Just Cause
An Undertale Fanfiction
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source (you are here)
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source (you are here)
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
The moment the door to the Ruins opened, Sans knew he was about to regret making a promise.
The translucent glimmer of the newcomer’s stats slipped into view along with a hesitant foot, and the wary face that peered through the opening was marred by the numbers that floated beside it in the sentry’s prying vision.
Level of Violence two. Eighteen Execution Points.
Bit young to be a murderer, aren’tcha, kid?
The door was opening wider now, and as the young human emerged, Sans watched their every movement carefully.
Timid footsteps. Tense hands that hugged their body like a protective shield. Quick, nervous glances at the trees around them, as if any second something could jump out and kill them.
The movements of a terrified victim, not an aggressive predator.
The sight filled Sans with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. On the one hand, not having to deal with a remorseless killer with a powerful soul was a good thing.
On the other, it meant the situation was a lot more complicated than he liked, and the odds of his search ending today were not looking good.
Heh… part of me was hoping they’d look jaded. I’ve already scratched so many people off of my “maybe the source of the time anomaly” list, a new candidate would’ve made my day. But it looks like this is their first time around the mulberry bush – at least, as far as they know.
And they’ve already killed a few people, probably in self-defense. The “self-defense” part makes it harder to justify killing them, but the “killed a few people” part makes it harder to justify leaving them alive so they can do it again.
Heh.
A bitter memory reared its head, turning his indelible grin into its closest approximation of a wry smirk. I say it as if any of this really matters. This timeline may have lasted longer than the others, but this isn’t the first time the anomaly has let things run longer than usual. Sooner or later, it always resets.
And if this human isn’t the source of the problem, it probably doesn’t matter whether I kill them or not. We’re all coming back either way.
So I guess I may as well have fun… with…
Wait.
That face…
Shock struck him like a firehose to the face, freezing his breath as the human’s glance strayed in his direction. Narrow eyes, rounded features, all washed in fear… and looking almost right at him.
Did they notice me hiding here?
A quick teleport moved him out of their view, and he narrowed his eyes, watching them with renewed intensity.
It might have been a fluke, but for a second there, I thought they knew where I was going to be. As if they’d caught me there before.
And also, that face…
This was no longer fun and games. Yes, he would play games with them, but it would be no simple matter of killing irrelevant time.
Maybe it won’t matter in the long run. But if it does, I want to know who you are, what you’re doing here, and if this really is your first time.
~*~*~*~
I wonder if I could go back far enough.
Frozen powder crunched beneath Frisk’s feet as they stepped out of the Ruins, and as the door closed behind them with an ominous BOOM, the icy air instantly started seeping through their clothes. Their arms pressed around their body, trying to fend off the cold, but their guilt and the flower’s cruel words were not so easily held at bay.
Maybe I could find a way through without killing those Vegetoids. But… I’ve already saved my progress after that fight, so it’s probably too late.
I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to go through that again. But I feel so… so… UGH!
Their fingers plunged into their sweater, digging angry folds in the fabric, and their clenched jaw felt like it was going to break their teeth.
Why do I have to feel this guilty?! It’s not like I started that fight. They killed me over and over, and wouldn’t stop no matter what I did. So they deserved it, didn’t they? They gave me no other choice.
Their feet nearly caught on a heavy branch, and they jolted into the air just in time to avoid tripping. A sharp gasp filled their lungs with cold, and they glanced around hastily, probing the trees for the gleam of watching eyes.
Careful, Frisk! If a stick could catch me by surprise, so could a monster! Toriel said the people out here would kill me – which isn’t really any different from the Ruins, but here they’ll also take my soul.
I wonder what happens when my soul gets taken. What will they do with it? Will I be awake to-
CRACK!
The child launched into the air, whipping around and brandishing the stick before their feet touched the ground. For a moment, they stood frozen and trembling, and their heart tried to escape through their throat as they stared at the place where the branch used to be.
It was broken. The solid, heavy length of wood, easily as durable as any of their limbs, had been shattered into fragments.
What did that?! WHERE IS IT?! Their frantic eyes swept the trees, darting as fast as their mind could process, and their breathing shook as it picked up speed. Whatever it is must be HUGE. And fast. There’s no way it should’ve been able to hide again before I turned around.
Is it Asgore? Has he found me already?
Their glance shot to the Ruins’ distant door, and for a second, they thought about trying to run. But Toriel had told them not to return, and she’d also said that door only opened one way.
They couldn’t go back.
There was nowhere to hide.
And even if there was, they’d never outrun a creature that fast.
Maybe if I don’t move, it won’t attack me. Monsters didn’t usually come after me when I wasn’t moving; it was when I walked near them that they started a fight.
But whatever it is is closer to the Ruins, so maybe if I keep walking away, I won’t get close enough for it to notice me.
The child glanced over their shoulder at the seemingly empty path, their eyes sweeping nervously across the rows of trees that made it all too difficult to see whether or not they concealed a living form.
There was no sign of monsters anywhere, except for that one broken branch. With a pounding heart, Frisk forced their legs back into motion, constantly scanning the forest on each side, the deceptively empty path behind, and the road of unknown perils ahead.
A dark brown shape came into view, stretched across a deep gap in the snow, and Frisk squinted as they cautiously moved toward it. Are those… pillars? With a flat board on top, and… a bridge between the pillars? OK… I’m not sure why there are pillars, but at least I won’t have to go into the woods to get across that hole.
Who knows what might be hiding in the-
CRUNCH.
The sound of a single footstep in the snow brought them whipping around again, and Frisk stared, confused, at the footprint that had appeared beside their own on the path behind them. It’s like someone just appeared there, put one foot down, and disappeared.
Did whatever it was teleport?
Oh, NO. Now there are monsters that TELEPORT!?
Their footsteps quickened, but even as the bridge drew nearer, they knew that no amount of speed would save them from an enemy who could pounce without taking a step.
Will it go past the bridge? Will I be safe there? Or will even worse monsters be waiting for me?
The bridge was a few feet away. The wood looked smooth, and Frisk slowed down, reluctant to run across the slick surface with snow-covered shoes.
The snow behind them crunched.
Frisk’s whole body froze. If I don’t move, it’ll teleport away, right?
Crunch. CRUNCH.
It didn’t! It’s moving closer! No, no no no…
Their heart thundered, a cacophony of motion in an unmoving cage, and their instincts’ screams to freeze or flee seemed to tear their mind in two.
Should I run? No, that didn’t work – I can’t outrun it.
If I don’t move, it won’t kill me, right? Monsters always wait their turn; they won’t attack if I don’t move.
Unless teleporting monsters are different. Or ALL the monsters out here are different. The thought twisted their heart into a choking knot, and their hands began to shake. Do monsters outside the Ruins have different rules? What if they attack no matter what, and then take your soul before you can go back to when you saved?
What if they don’t just kill you? What if they torture you first?
The footsteps were almost close enough to touch, and their back tensed against the imminent pain that already felt inescapable. Should I turn around? No, that might count as my turn and make it attack me. I don’t know what to do!
“Human.”
The footsteps stopped. No voice reached their ears, yet the word in their mind was as audible as their own startled gasp. That isn’t the voice that was talking to me in the Ruins, but… it knows I’m human.
Toriel said all the humans who fall down here die. Is them being human why Asgore took their souls?
There are so many things I should have asked about.
“Don’t you know…” There was that voice again. “…how to greet a new pal?”
The flood of terror paused in their mind, and its edges started to trickle away. A new pal? Are you… saying you want to be friends?
I’ve heard that before.
The fear returned in full force, alongside a rush of suspicion. If it asks me to catch any pellets…
“Turn around and shake my hand.”
That… probably won’t kill me? OK…
With small, tense movements, Frisk turned to face the monster. As they did, surprise and confusion swept through them, and they found themselves staring blankly at his grinning face.
A… skeleton? Their hand rose numbly to meet his, and their thoughts began to race. How is that possible? He has no skin. And probably no muscles. How did he move his face to talk? How does he move at all? His head looks empty. How does he think?
I hope he’s not thinking about murder.
The skeleton’s hand closed around Frisk’s. His fingers were as hard as they’d expected, padded only by his fuzzy white mittens, yet his palm felt strangely soft against theirs.
For an instant, his grin widened. Then he squeezed.
~*~*~*~
There were many things Frisk had been expecting. Murder. Torture. Scolding. A lesson on the rules of this strange world, if they were exceptionally lucky.
A whining, wet, protracted fart had not been on the list.
The skeleton’s chuckle bubbled up in a throat that lacked every structure that should have been required for speech, and Frisk watched in bewilderment as he spoke, forming the words without lips and presumably without a tongue. “Heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It’s ALWAYS funny. Anyways, you’re a human, right?”
I hope this isn’t the wrong answer. But judging by how he greeted me, I think he already knows.
Frisk nodded tentatively, and the skeleton glanced sideways, his smile rising to reach his eyes. “That’s hilarious.” His gaze returned to them, and he added, “I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton. I’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. But… y’know… I don’t really care about capturing anybody.”
The breath that had frozen in Frisk’s lungs began to leak out, but they didn’t dare let their guard down fully.
For all they knew, he might still be planning to throw some friendliness pellets at them.
“Now, my brother, Papyrus,” Sans continued, “he’s a human-hunting FANATIC.”
So we ARE being hunted because we’re human.
And Dash and I wanted to escape to this place.
“Hey, actually, I think that’s him over there.”
CRAP! Panic slammed through their chest, and Frisk twisted around, their eyes darting as they followed Sans’ stare. In the distance, a tall, colorful figure was charging down the path, and the human’s heartbeat quickened as their gaze swept the area in search of an escape route.
As if seeing their alarm, Sans offered a solution. “I have an idea. Go through this gate thingy.”
Frisk turned to stare at him, baffled. Before they could ask why a person who was supposed to be on the lookout for humans would tell them how to avoid his own brother, he insisted, “Yeah, go right through. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.”
Everything about the situation seemed suspicious, but faced with the imminent threat of a human-hunting fanatic who looked like he was at least a head taller than them, Frisk didn’t see many other options. With a one-way door behind them and a thick forest on either side, any attempt to retreat would find them trapped in a dead end.
As they raced across the bridge, Frisk heard Sans’ quick, light footsteps behind them, somehow managing to match their pace without sending his pink flip-flop slippers flying.
Papyrus was drawing closer, but he didn’t seem to have noticed them yet. Once they were across the bridge, Frisk pulled to a halt, not sure where they could go that a human-hunting fanatic wouldn’t think to look.
Behind them, Sans also paused. “Quick,” he instructed. “Behind that conveniently-shaped lamp.”
Frisk hastily complied, ducking behind the oddly-placed household decoration just as Papyrus came charging into the clearing. For a moment, they were certain they’d been seen; it didn’t seem possible that he hadn’t noticed them before they bolted from view. But to their relief, all of his attention was fixed on his brother.
“Sup, bro?” Sans greeted the taller skeleton, and Frisk peered cautiously around the edge of the lamp as Papyrus glared at their benefactor.
“You know what ‘sup’, brother! It’s been eight days and you still haven’t… Recalibrated. YOUR. PUZZLES! You just hang around outside your station! What are you even doing?!?”
“Staring at this lamp. It’s really cool. Do you wanna look?”
I KNEW IT! Frisk’s body froze, and their mind raced. I wanted to believe he was a good person, but I KNEW he was lying about helping me! This is just another ‘friendliness pellets’ thing – he was setting me up to get caught by his brother!
Damn it, damn it, where can I hide that they won’t see me running to?!
“NO!” Papyrus’ voice rang through the clearing like a gunshot, and Frisk flinched, their eyes widening as they watched the angry skeleton.
To their surprise, instead of inspecting their hiding place, he turned his back on them, stomping and pumping his fists like an angry toddler. “I don’t have time for that! What if a human comes through here!?! I want to be ready!!! I will be the one! I MUST be the one! I will capture a human!”
As suddenly as it began, the tantrum stopped. Papyrus’ face and voice brightened as he spun to face Sans, and he struck a dashing pose, with one hand resting on his chest while the other curled into a determined fist at his hip.
As if to enhance the grandiose display, a light wind began to blow, picking up his scarf and waving it dramatically as he continued, “Then I, the great Papyrus, will get all the things I utterly deserve! Respect… recognition… I will finally be able to join the Royal Guard! People will ask… to… be my… ‘friend?’”
That tone… With a single sentence, the situation had been painted in a new light. The way Papyrus’ voice faltered, the uncertainty in his inflections…
I know that tone. That’s how people talk when they to believe what they’re saying, but can’t.
Like how I wanted to believe that Sans wanted to help me.
If Papyrus is as lonely as me, then I wonder if-
“I will bathe in a shower of kisses every morning,” the skeleton continued, cutting off their thoughts and smothering their hope in a shower of bafflement.
Do monsters kiss each other all over when they’re friends? Or do they have a way to actually put kisses in the shower?
At this point, neither would surprise me.
“Hmm,” Sans mused, and Frisk tensed, silently urging him to not to bring up their hiding place again. “Maybe this lamp will help you.”
No, stop it! I know you’re trying to help your brother make friends, but is it really worth my life? Is my life… worth less than him making friends?
Is it worth anything to anyone out here?
“Sans!!” Papyrus shouted, turning his back on them again. “You are not helping!! You lazybones!!”
Or maybe… he is helping? A timid ray of hope shone through the fog, and the sting of betrayal faded. Every time it seems like Sans is trying to draw his attention to me, Papyrus ignores me even more.
Is Sans trying to get me caught, or trying to keep me from getting caught? I wish I could tell.
I have no idea how to feel right now.
“All you do is sit and boondoggle,” Papyrus yelled, and Frisk’s throat tightened. “You get lazier and lazier every day!!!”
Oh, no. As their fear of immediate capture shrank, a new dread found room to grow in their mind. He’s really mad at Sans. Is Sans about to be punished for not doing his chores?
“Hey, take it easy,” the smaller skeleton protested, in a tone that sounded strangely like he was more amused than upset. “I’ve gotten a ton of work done today.” He winked. “A skele-ton.”
“SANS!!!”
“Come on. You’re smiling.”
“I am and I hate it,” Papyrus complained, glaring with his eyes but unable to suppress the smile that tugged at his mouth. A deep sigh swept slowly through his hollow rib cage, and the grin melted into melancholy confusion. “Why does someone as great as me have to do so much just to get some recognition?”
“Wow, sounds like you’re really working yourself down to the bone,” Sans observed, and Frisk simultaneously smirked and cringed while irritation flashed across Papyrus’ face.
“UGH! I will attend to my puzzles,” he growled, then his expression softened into something more like resignation. “As for your work? Put a little more… ‘backbone’ into it!!!! Nyehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
With that, he trotted off, returning just long enough to deliver a final “Heh!” before disappearing down the snowy path ahead.
As his brother vanished from sight, Sans glanced toward the lamp. “OK, you can come out now.”
Frisk slipped out of their hiding place, glancing cautiously down the path to make sure Papyrus wasn’t coming back for another “heh.” As if reading their mind, Sans pointed out, “You oughta get going. He might come back. And if he does…” He winked. “You’ll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes.”
Despite their lingering concern, the child felt some of the tension draining from their shoulders. It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t seem to care that I’m human. I wish more monsters felt that way.
I’m not sure why he kept pointing out the lamp, but if he wanted me caught, he would have just gone over and pushed me out, or left me in the open, right?
Or is that just me falling for friendliness pellets again?
They’d hesitated too long, and Sans was looking at them with a glint of curiosity in his eye socket. “What’s the holdup?” he asked. “Look, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”
For half a second, Frisk relaxed a bit more. And then…
“It’s just a dark cavern full of skeletons and horrible monsters.”
Well, that didn’t help. The child’s shoulders slumped. “Are they really that horrible?” they asked quietly, and Sans shrugged.
“Just a few of them.” He winked again. “The rest are merely terrible.” Seeing the look on their face, he added, “Ah, lighten up. I’m just kiddin’ with ya. Just keep hiding behind randomly-placed conveniently-shaped household items, and you’ll be fine.”
“O…OK.”
~*~*~*~
As the human child began to slip away, Sans watched their furtive, anxious movements and the numbers that floated above their head. The kid could be dangerous – their stats made that clear. But the way they were slinking down the path, like a beaten puppy trapped in a house with its tormentor… it made the magic in his rib cage twist.
That isn’t the body language of someone who’s hunting for someone to kill. It’s the look of someone who’s been hunted long enough to start biting back.
Maybe keeping them away from Papyrus isn’t the best idea. Those two might be good for each other.
Who knows – maybe he can change their mind about monsters, and make things safer for everyone. “Actually, hey…”
They jerked to a halt and glanced at him, with the speed of someone who didn’t dare ignore a person who was speaking. Their face held a mixture of worry and hope, like they were clinging to the chance that his next words would be friendly, but afraid to risk expecting it.
They really do look like a scared, lonely kid. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given that they’ve been sentenced to be executed without a trial.
I should probably word this gently.
“Hate to bother ya, but can you do me a favor?”
They turned to face him more fully, with a quick glance over their shoulder to see if Papyrus was coming back. “Um… OK?”
“I was thinking… my brother’s been kind of down lately…” They nodded, as if they’d noticed the pain beneath the grandstanding, and the sight encouraged Sans.
So they’ve still got enough tenderness in them to notice when someone else is hurting. And, judging by their expression, to care at least a bit, even if he is a human-hunting fanatic.
That’s a good sign. Cold comfort for the people they killed, but at least there’s hope for the other monsters they run into.
“He’s never seen a human before,” he continued, watching as a flash of trepidation swept across the human’s face, “and seeing you might just make his day.”
The child glanced nervously at Papyrus’ retreating footprints, then turned their face back to Sans. “But you said he wants to hunt me.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry – he’s not dangerous. Even if he tries to be.”
The human still looked unconvinced, but Sans could see that half-buried glow of compassion straining against their fear. “OK,” they finally acquiesced, their tone uncertain, but their shoulders tense with resolve. “But if he tries to capture me, I’ll have to hide behind a lamp again.”
Trust the world’s sense of irony to create a being who was both lethally dangerous and amusingly naive. They really are still a child. “OK. Thanks a million. I’ll be up ahead.”
~*~*~*~
Frisk was starting to conclude that at least some of the monsters in this dark cavern really were that horrible.
Snowdrake was a terrible comedian. What kind of performer didn’t know that murdering his audience wasn’t funny?
Ice Cap was bewildering. They still weren’t sure what combination of actions made the egotist leave them alone; they’d resorted to alternately complimenting and ignoring it until it went away.
Doggo, at least, had been straightforward. He’d told them what to do, and they’d done it, and they hadn’t gotten hurt. They wished more monsters had been like that.
And Sans and Papyrus… even now, as they sank into a snow poff with a giant dog monster on top of them, Frisk still wasn’t sure what to think of the skeleton brothers.
Papyrus was loud, tall and assertive – not a combination life had taught them to be comfortable around. But he was also goofy, airheaded, reflexively friendly despite his own intentions, and – true to Sans’ claim – had thus far proven harmless.
Like a big, noisy, scary puppy who was trying to chew on their legs, but couldn’t seem to resist nuzzling them instead.
And then, on the other end of the spectrum, there was Sans.
Where Papyrus was dauntingly tall and angular, Sans was reassuringly short, round and unimposing. While Papyrus was easily provoked into yelling, and it seemed like a miracle that his light-switch anger hadn’t escalated into violence, Sans was unflappably quiet and casual.
Papyrus had expressed an intention to capture them, but seemed incapable of making a plan that would actually result in that outcome. Sans had claimed that he had no desire to catch them, and yet…
And yet he’d made a show of vanishing and reappearing, his skeletal body could exert enough force to shatter a stick as thick as Frisk’s arm, and the human had little doubt that if his ambition had matched his brother’s, he could have easily accomplished what Papyrus had thus far failed to attempt.
One was big, loud and imposing, but seemed incapable of being a real threat. The other was small, quiet and superficially reassuring, but Frisk strongly suspected that he was the more powerful of the two.
And he was watching them.
Every time they completed a puzzle, they could feel his glowing pupils staring at them. Watching, evaluating, judging.
When they solved the puzzle that was supposed to look like Papyrus’ smile, only to die and be forced to do it over, he’d instantly noticed the speed with which they accomplished the task, and the way he commented on it didn’t make it sound like he really believed they were that good at puzzles.
And always, always, they got the feeling that he knew something he wasn’t saying. Like he saw everything they wanted to hide, and was keeping an eye on them.
But he hadn’t hurt them.
He’d joked with them. Given them advice. Acted like the two of them were casual acquaintances, or maybe even friends.
Sometimes, when they were talking with him, and he spoke of his clearly fictitious business ambitions or gossiped about his brother’s more comical traits, Frisk was almost able to forget that they were a human in a world full of monsters that wanted to kill them.
It felt… good. Like an echo of the safe, normal life other people theoretically had, but they’d only ever dreamed of experiencing.
A large, fuzzy, metal-clad weight stirred on their legs, jolting them back to the present moment. On their lap, Greater Dog squirmed and whined, and Frisk yanked their arm out from under the monster’s armored bulk, firmly petting its silky head in an effort to appease it.
I wonder if it knows it was hurting me. Dogamy and Dogaressa seemed to know.
I wonder if I should have killed them.
They’d seriously considered it. Even after coming to the mistaken conclusion that Frisk was a little puppy, the dogi had assailed them mercilessly, flinging hearts and swinging axes toward their vulnerable soul.
And even as they’d walked away from that fight, leaving the canines with their minds newly opened to the potential of dogs petting dogs, Frisk’s steps had been slowed by the fear that they’d just left a pair of merciless puppy-killers loose in the underground.
Is some poor puppy going to lose its brother because of me?
Greater Dog twisted in their lap, flopping over with its legs dangling in the air, and Frisk absentmindedly scratched its chin, wishing the armor wasn’t blocking their access to its soft, fluffy belly.
I probably should have killed those two. But what if they and Sans were friends?
I can’t do that to someone who’s nice enough to be my friend, even if he is a little scary sometimes.
At least… I hope we’re actually friends.
The events of an all-too-recent battle tumbled through their mind like burning coals, and Frisk’s teeth pressed into their lip as their fingers tightened in Greater Dog’s fur. Sans seems nice, but… he just stood there and watched us fight. I thought Gyftrot was going to kill me – it came so close.
And he just stood there and watched.
Would he have let me die?
The thought sent a tremor through Frisk’s breath, and their teeth sank deeper into their lip. Toriel wouldn’t have let that happen. But she isn’t here, because I didn’t listen and I left.
But would she have let it happen, if she knew what I did?
Their stomach twisted, and for a moment, Frisk wondered if they were about to puke on the dog that was half-asleep on their lap. With a straining swallow, they forced the sick feeling down, and their hands began to shake.
I wonder if Sans knows. Maybe that’s why he’s watching me so closely.
But if he knew, why would he make friends with me? Wouldn’t that make him want to kill me? Isn’t it a sentry’s job to stop people who kill people?
No wonder he didn’t want to help me. Except that… he did. With the lamp, and when he gave me that hint about blue stop signs.
I’m so confused.
Their breath was starting to shake audibly, guilt and loneliness combining with cold to send tremors shuddering through their whole body. A tear fell onto Greater Dog’s nose, startling the monster from its doze, and a soft whine leaked from its muzzle as it scrambled out of its armor.
Oh no, I woke it up, what’s it going to-
A warm, wet tongue slid across Frisk’s cheek, lapping a tear from their face, and a fuzzy paw nestled gently on their leg. Big, worried eyes stared into theirs, and this time, there was no mistaking the meaning of its whine.
It cares about me. The thought swelled in their chest, followed by a trembling sob, and they buried their hands in the monster’s fur, pulling it into a desperate hug. I don’t have to wonder or guess this time. Even if it wanted to kill me before, right now, I’m sure it cares.
The dog whimpered sympathetically, craning its head to lick the child’s cheeks faster than the tears could fall. Frisk buried their face in its neck, hugging it even harder as the sobs built into deep, ragged gasps.
The canine leaned into the embrace, and its affection fell like rain on desperately parched soil, spilling over in more and more tears until Frisk felt like there was nothing left to squeeze out. At last, with a deep, shaky breath, they set their hands in the snow and pushed themselves unsteadily to their feet.
“Thanks,” they said, giving their comforter a few last strokes on the head. “I needed that.”
The dog barked softly, gave their nose two parting licks, and then leaped into its abandoned suit of armor, somehow managing to pilot the outfit away with its rear end sticking out where its head should have been.
The sight drew a small giggle from Frisk, an unexpected bit of mirth at the end of the emotional storm. As they started to move in the canine’s wake, their spirits rose a bit.
Maybe the monsters here aren’t that bad. At least, not all of them.
They may not be as nice as Toriel, but if they’re at least as nice as Sans, Papyrus and that dog, I think I can make it.
The translucent glimmer of the newcomer’s stats slipped into view along with a hesitant foot, and the wary face that peered through the opening was marred by the numbers that floated beside it in the sentry’s prying vision.
Level of Violence two. Eighteen Execution Points.
Bit young to be a murderer, aren’tcha, kid?
The door was opening wider now, and as the young human emerged, Sans watched their every movement carefully.
Timid footsteps. Tense hands that hugged their body like a protective shield. Quick, nervous glances at the trees around them, as if any second something could jump out and kill them.
The movements of a terrified victim, not an aggressive predator.
The sight filled Sans with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. On the one hand, not having to deal with a remorseless killer with a powerful soul was a good thing.
On the other, it meant the situation was a lot more complicated than he liked, and the odds of his search ending today were not looking good.
Heh… part of me was hoping they’d look jaded. I’ve already scratched so many people off of my “maybe the source of the time anomaly” list, a new candidate would’ve made my day. But it looks like this is their first time around the mulberry bush – at least, as far as they know.
And they’ve already killed a few people, probably in self-defense. The “self-defense” part makes it harder to justify killing them, but the “killed a few people” part makes it harder to justify leaving them alive so they can do it again.
Heh.
A bitter memory reared its head, turning his indelible grin into its closest approximation of a wry smirk. I say it as if any of this really matters. This timeline may have lasted longer than the others, but this isn’t the first time the anomaly has let things run longer than usual. Sooner or later, it always resets.
And if this human isn’t the source of the problem, it probably doesn’t matter whether I kill them or not. We’re all coming back either way.
So I guess I may as well have fun… with…
Wait.
That face…
Shock struck him like a firehose to the face, freezing his breath as the human’s glance strayed in his direction. Narrow eyes, rounded features, all washed in fear… and looking almost right at him.
Did they notice me hiding here?
A quick teleport moved him out of their view, and he narrowed his eyes, watching them with renewed intensity.
It might have been a fluke, but for a second there, I thought they knew where I was going to be. As if they’d caught me there before.
And also, that face…
This was no longer fun and games. Yes, he would play games with them, but it would be no simple matter of killing irrelevant time.
Maybe it won’t matter in the long run. But if it does, I want to know who you are, what you’re doing here, and if this really is your first time.
~*~*~*~
I wonder if I could go back far enough.
Frozen powder crunched beneath Frisk’s feet as they stepped out of the Ruins, and as the door closed behind them with an ominous BOOM, the icy air instantly started seeping through their clothes. Their arms pressed around their body, trying to fend off the cold, but their guilt and the flower’s cruel words were not so easily held at bay.
Maybe I could find a way through without killing those Vegetoids. But… I’ve already saved my progress after that fight, so it’s probably too late.
I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to go through that again. But I feel so… so… UGH!
Their fingers plunged into their sweater, digging angry folds in the fabric, and their clenched jaw felt like it was going to break their teeth.
Why do I have to feel this guilty?! It’s not like I started that fight. They killed me over and over, and wouldn’t stop no matter what I did. So they deserved it, didn’t they? They gave me no other choice.
Their feet nearly caught on a heavy branch, and they jolted into the air just in time to avoid tripping. A sharp gasp filled their lungs with cold, and they glanced around hastily, probing the trees for the gleam of watching eyes.
Careful, Frisk! If a stick could catch me by surprise, so could a monster! Toriel said the people out here would kill me – which isn’t really any different from the Ruins, but here they’ll also take my soul.
I wonder what happens when my soul gets taken. What will they do with it? Will I be awake to-
CRACK!
The child launched into the air, whipping around and brandishing the stick before their feet touched the ground. For a moment, they stood frozen and trembling, and their heart tried to escape through their throat as they stared at the place where the branch used to be.
It was broken. The solid, heavy length of wood, easily as durable as any of their limbs, had been shattered into fragments.
What did that?! WHERE IS IT?! Their frantic eyes swept the trees, darting as fast as their mind could process, and their breathing shook as it picked up speed. Whatever it is must be HUGE. And fast. There’s no way it should’ve been able to hide again before I turned around.
Is it Asgore? Has he found me already?
Their glance shot to the Ruins’ distant door, and for a second, they thought about trying to run. But Toriel had told them not to return, and she’d also said that door only opened one way.
They couldn’t go back.
There was nowhere to hide.
And even if there was, they’d never outrun a creature that fast.
Maybe if I don’t move, it won’t attack me. Monsters didn’t usually come after me when I wasn’t moving; it was when I walked near them that they started a fight.
But whatever it is is closer to the Ruins, so maybe if I keep walking away, I won’t get close enough for it to notice me.
The child glanced over their shoulder at the seemingly empty path, their eyes sweeping nervously across the rows of trees that made it all too difficult to see whether or not they concealed a living form.
There was no sign of monsters anywhere, except for that one broken branch. With a pounding heart, Frisk forced their legs back into motion, constantly scanning the forest on each side, the deceptively empty path behind, and the road of unknown perils ahead.
A dark brown shape came into view, stretched across a deep gap in the snow, and Frisk squinted as they cautiously moved toward it. Are those… pillars? With a flat board on top, and… a bridge between the pillars? OK… I’m not sure why there are pillars, but at least I won’t have to go into the woods to get across that hole.
Who knows what might be hiding in the-
CRUNCH.
The sound of a single footstep in the snow brought them whipping around again, and Frisk stared, confused, at the footprint that had appeared beside their own on the path behind them. It’s like someone just appeared there, put one foot down, and disappeared.
Did whatever it was teleport?
Oh, NO. Now there are monsters that TELEPORT!?
Their footsteps quickened, but even as the bridge drew nearer, they knew that no amount of speed would save them from an enemy who could pounce without taking a step.
Will it go past the bridge? Will I be safe there? Or will even worse monsters be waiting for me?
The bridge was a few feet away. The wood looked smooth, and Frisk slowed down, reluctant to run across the slick surface with snow-covered shoes.
The snow behind them crunched.
Frisk’s whole body froze. If I don’t move, it’ll teleport away, right?
Crunch. CRUNCH.
It didn’t! It’s moving closer! No, no no no…
Their heart thundered, a cacophony of motion in an unmoving cage, and their instincts’ screams to freeze or flee seemed to tear their mind in two.
Should I run? No, that didn’t work – I can’t outrun it.
If I don’t move, it won’t kill me, right? Monsters always wait their turn; they won’t attack if I don’t move.
Unless teleporting monsters are different. Or ALL the monsters out here are different. The thought twisted their heart into a choking knot, and their hands began to shake. Do monsters outside the Ruins have different rules? What if they attack no matter what, and then take your soul before you can go back to when you saved?
What if they don’t just kill you? What if they torture you first?
The footsteps were almost close enough to touch, and their back tensed against the imminent pain that already felt inescapable. Should I turn around? No, that might count as my turn and make it attack me. I don’t know what to do!
“Human.”
The footsteps stopped. No voice reached their ears, yet the word in their mind was as audible as their own startled gasp. That isn’t the voice that was talking to me in the Ruins, but… it knows I’m human.
Toriel said all the humans who fall down here die. Is them being human why Asgore took their souls?
There are so many things I should have asked about.
“Don’t you know…” There was that voice again. “…how to greet a new pal?”
The flood of terror paused in their mind, and its edges started to trickle away. A new pal? Are you… saying you want to be friends?
I’ve heard that before.
The fear returned in full force, alongside a rush of suspicion. If it asks me to catch any pellets…
“Turn around and shake my hand.”
That… probably won’t kill me? OK…
With small, tense movements, Frisk turned to face the monster. As they did, surprise and confusion swept through them, and they found themselves staring blankly at his grinning face.
A… skeleton? Their hand rose numbly to meet his, and their thoughts began to race. How is that possible? He has no skin. And probably no muscles. How did he move his face to talk? How does he move at all? His head looks empty. How does he think?
I hope he’s not thinking about murder.
The skeleton’s hand closed around Frisk’s. His fingers were as hard as they’d expected, padded only by his fuzzy white mittens, yet his palm felt strangely soft against theirs.
For an instant, his grin widened. Then he squeezed.
~*~*~*~
There were many things Frisk had been expecting. Murder. Torture. Scolding. A lesson on the rules of this strange world, if they were exceptionally lucky.
A whining, wet, protracted fart had not been on the list.
The skeleton’s chuckle bubbled up in a throat that lacked every structure that should have been required for speech, and Frisk watched in bewilderment as he spoke, forming the words without lips and presumably without a tongue. “Heheh… the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It’s ALWAYS funny. Anyways, you’re a human, right?”
I hope this isn’t the wrong answer. But judging by how he greeted me, I think he already knows.
Frisk nodded tentatively, and the skeleton glanced sideways, his smile rising to reach his eyes. “That’s hilarious.” His gaze returned to them, and he added, “I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton. I’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. But… y’know… I don’t really care about capturing anybody.”
The breath that had frozen in Frisk’s lungs began to leak out, but they didn’t dare let their guard down fully.
For all they knew, he might still be planning to throw some friendliness pellets at them.
“Now, my brother, Papyrus,” Sans continued, “he’s a human-hunting FANATIC.”
So we ARE being hunted because we’re human.
And Dash and I wanted to escape to this place.
“Hey, actually, I think that’s him over there.”
CRAP! Panic slammed through their chest, and Frisk twisted around, their eyes darting as they followed Sans’ stare. In the distance, a tall, colorful figure was charging down the path, and the human’s heartbeat quickened as their gaze swept the area in search of an escape route.
As if seeing their alarm, Sans offered a solution. “I have an idea. Go through this gate thingy.”
Frisk turned to stare at him, baffled. Before they could ask why a person who was supposed to be on the lookout for humans would tell them how to avoid his own brother, he insisted, “Yeah, go right through. My bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.”
Everything about the situation seemed suspicious, but faced with the imminent threat of a human-hunting fanatic who looked like he was at least a head taller than them, Frisk didn’t see many other options. With a one-way door behind them and a thick forest on either side, any attempt to retreat would find them trapped in a dead end.
As they raced across the bridge, Frisk heard Sans’ quick, light footsteps behind them, somehow managing to match their pace without sending his pink flip-flop slippers flying.
Papyrus was drawing closer, but he didn’t seem to have noticed them yet. Once they were across the bridge, Frisk pulled to a halt, not sure where they could go that a human-hunting fanatic wouldn’t think to look.
Behind them, Sans also paused. “Quick,” he instructed. “Behind that conveniently-shaped lamp.”
Frisk hastily complied, ducking behind the oddly-placed household decoration just as Papyrus came charging into the clearing. For a moment, they were certain they’d been seen; it didn’t seem possible that he hadn’t noticed them before they bolted from view. But to their relief, all of his attention was fixed on his brother.
“Sup, bro?” Sans greeted the taller skeleton, and Frisk peered cautiously around the edge of the lamp as Papyrus glared at their benefactor.
“You know what ‘sup’, brother! It’s been eight days and you still haven’t… Recalibrated. YOUR. PUZZLES! You just hang around outside your station! What are you even doing?!?”
“Staring at this lamp. It’s really cool. Do you wanna look?”
I KNEW IT! Frisk’s body froze, and their mind raced. I wanted to believe he was a good person, but I KNEW he was lying about helping me! This is just another ‘friendliness pellets’ thing – he was setting me up to get caught by his brother!
Damn it, damn it, where can I hide that they won’t see me running to?!
“NO!” Papyrus’ voice rang through the clearing like a gunshot, and Frisk flinched, their eyes widening as they watched the angry skeleton.
To their surprise, instead of inspecting their hiding place, he turned his back on them, stomping and pumping his fists like an angry toddler. “I don’t have time for that! What if a human comes through here!?! I want to be ready!!! I will be the one! I MUST be the one! I will capture a human!”
As suddenly as it began, the tantrum stopped. Papyrus’ face and voice brightened as he spun to face Sans, and he struck a dashing pose, with one hand resting on his chest while the other curled into a determined fist at his hip.
As if to enhance the grandiose display, a light wind began to blow, picking up his scarf and waving it dramatically as he continued, “Then I, the great Papyrus, will get all the things I utterly deserve! Respect… recognition… I will finally be able to join the Royal Guard! People will ask… to… be my… ‘friend?’”
That tone… With a single sentence, the situation had been painted in a new light. The way Papyrus’ voice faltered, the uncertainty in his inflections…
I know that tone. That’s how people talk when they to believe what they’re saying, but can’t.
Like how I wanted to believe that Sans wanted to help me.
If Papyrus is as lonely as me, then I wonder if-
“I will bathe in a shower of kisses every morning,” the skeleton continued, cutting off their thoughts and smothering their hope in a shower of bafflement.
Do monsters kiss each other all over when they’re friends? Or do they have a way to actually put kisses in the shower?
At this point, neither would surprise me.
“Hmm,” Sans mused, and Frisk tensed, silently urging him to not to bring up their hiding place again. “Maybe this lamp will help you.”
No, stop it! I know you’re trying to help your brother make friends, but is it really worth my life? Is my life… worth less than him making friends?
Is it worth anything to anyone out here?
“Sans!!” Papyrus shouted, turning his back on them again. “You are not helping!! You lazybones!!”
Or maybe… he is helping? A timid ray of hope shone through the fog, and the sting of betrayal faded. Every time it seems like Sans is trying to draw his attention to me, Papyrus ignores me even more.
Is Sans trying to get me caught, or trying to keep me from getting caught? I wish I could tell.
I have no idea how to feel right now.
“All you do is sit and boondoggle,” Papyrus yelled, and Frisk’s throat tightened. “You get lazier and lazier every day!!!”
Oh, no. As their fear of immediate capture shrank, a new dread found room to grow in their mind. He’s really mad at Sans. Is Sans about to be punished for not doing his chores?
“Hey, take it easy,” the smaller skeleton protested, in a tone that sounded strangely like he was more amused than upset. “I’ve gotten a ton of work done today.” He winked. “A skele-ton.”
“SANS!!!”
“Come on. You’re smiling.”
“I am and I hate it,” Papyrus complained, glaring with his eyes but unable to suppress the smile that tugged at his mouth. A deep sigh swept slowly through his hollow rib cage, and the grin melted into melancholy confusion. “Why does someone as great as me have to do so much just to get some recognition?”
“Wow, sounds like you’re really working yourself down to the bone,” Sans observed, and Frisk simultaneously smirked and cringed while irritation flashed across Papyrus’ face.
“UGH! I will attend to my puzzles,” he growled, then his expression softened into something more like resignation. “As for your work? Put a little more… ‘backbone’ into it!!!! Nyehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
With that, he trotted off, returning just long enough to deliver a final “Heh!” before disappearing down the snowy path ahead.
As his brother vanished from sight, Sans glanced toward the lamp. “OK, you can come out now.”
Frisk slipped out of their hiding place, glancing cautiously down the path to make sure Papyrus wasn’t coming back for another “heh.” As if reading their mind, Sans pointed out, “You oughta get going. He might come back. And if he does…” He winked. “You’ll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes.”
Despite their lingering concern, the child felt some of the tension draining from their shoulders. It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t seem to care that I’m human. I wish more monsters felt that way.
I’m not sure why he kept pointing out the lamp, but if he wanted me caught, he would have just gone over and pushed me out, or left me in the open, right?
Or is that just me falling for friendliness pellets again?
They’d hesitated too long, and Sans was looking at them with a glint of curiosity in his eye socket. “What’s the holdup?” he asked. “Look, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”
For half a second, Frisk relaxed a bit more. And then…
“It’s just a dark cavern full of skeletons and horrible monsters.”
Well, that didn’t help. The child’s shoulders slumped. “Are they really that horrible?” they asked quietly, and Sans shrugged.
“Just a few of them.” He winked again. “The rest are merely terrible.” Seeing the look on their face, he added, “Ah, lighten up. I’m just kiddin’ with ya. Just keep hiding behind randomly-placed conveniently-shaped household items, and you’ll be fine.”
“O…OK.”
~*~*~*~
As the human child began to slip away, Sans watched their furtive, anxious movements and the numbers that floated above their head. The kid could be dangerous – their stats made that clear. But the way they were slinking down the path, like a beaten puppy trapped in a house with its tormentor… it made the magic in his rib cage twist.
That isn’t the body language of someone who’s hunting for someone to kill. It’s the look of someone who’s been hunted long enough to start biting back.
Maybe keeping them away from Papyrus isn’t the best idea. Those two might be good for each other.
Who knows – maybe he can change their mind about monsters, and make things safer for everyone. “Actually, hey…”
They jerked to a halt and glanced at him, with the speed of someone who didn’t dare ignore a person who was speaking. Their face held a mixture of worry and hope, like they were clinging to the chance that his next words would be friendly, but afraid to risk expecting it.
They really do look like a scared, lonely kid. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given that they’ve been sentenced to be executed without a trial.
I should probably word this gently.
“Hate to bother ya, but can you do me a favor?”
They turned to face him more fully, with a quick glance over their shoulder to see if Papyrus was coming back. “Um… OK?”
“I was thinking… my brother’s been kind of down lately…” They nodded, as if they’d noticed the pain beneath the grandstanding, and the sight encouraged Sans.
So they’ve still got enough tenderness in them to notice when someone else is hurting. And, judging by their expression, to care at least a bit, even if he is a human-hunting fanatic.
That’s a good sign. Cold comfort for the people they killed, but at least there’s hope for the other monsters they run into.
“He’s never seen a human before,” he continued, watching as a flash of trepidation swept across the human’s face, “and seeing you might just make his day.”
The child glanced nervously at Papyrus’ retreating footprints, then turned their face back to Sans. “But you said he wants to hunt me.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry – he’s not dangerous. Even if he tries to be.”
The human still looked unconvinced, but Sans could see that half-buried glow of compassion straining against their fear. “OK,” they finally acquiesced, their tone uncertain, but their shoulders tense with resolve. “But if he tries to capture me, I’ll have to hide behind a lamp again.”
Trust the world’s sense of irony to create a being who was both lethally dangerous and amusingly naive. They really are still a child. “OK. Thanks a million. I’ll be up ahead.”
~*~*~*~
Frisk was starting to conclude that at least some of the monsters in this dark cavern really were that horrible.
Snowdrake was a terrible comedian. What kind of performer didn’t know that murdering his audience wasn’t funny?
Ice Cap was bewildering. They still weren’t sure what combination of actions made the egotist leave them alone; they’d resorted to alternately complimenting and ignoring it until it went away.
Doggo, at least, had been straightforward. He’d told them what to do, and they’d done it, and they hadn’t gotten hurt. They wished more monsters had been like that.
And Sans and Papyrus… even now, as they sank into a snow poff with a giant dog monster on top of them, Frisk still wasn’t sure what to think of the skeleton brothers.
Papyrus was loud, tall and assertive – not a combination life had taught them to be comfortable around. But he was also goofy, airheaded, reflexively friendly despite his own intentions, and – true to Sans’ claim – had thus far proven harmless.
Like a big, noisy, scary puppy who was trying to chew on their legs, but couldn’t seem to resist nuzzling them instead.
And then, on the other end of the spectrum, there was Sans.
Where Papyrus was dauntingly tall and angular, Sans was reassuringly short, round and unimposing. While Papyrus was easily provoked into yelling, and it seemed like a miracle that his light-switch anger hadn’t escalated into violence, Sans was unflappably quiet and casual.
Papyrus had expressed an intention to capture them, but seemed incapable of making a plan that would actually result in that outcome. Sans had claimed that he had no desire to catch them, and yet…
And yet he’d made a show of vanishing and reappearing, his skeletal body could exert enough force to shatter a stick as thick as Frisk’s arm, and the human had little doubt that if his ambition had matched his brother’s, he could have easily accomplished what Papyrus had thus far failed to attempt.
One was big, loud and imposing, but seemed incapable of being a real threat. The other was small, quiet and superficially reassuring, but Frisk strongly suspected that he was the more powerful of the two.
And he was watching them.
Every time they completed a puzzle, they could feel his glowing pupils staring at them. Watching, evaluating, judging.
When they solved the puzzle that was supposed to look like Papyrus’ smile, only to die and be forced to do it over, he’d instantly noticed the speed with which they accomplished the task, and the way he commented on it didn’t make it sound like he really believed they were that good at puzzles.
And always, always, they got the feeling that he knew something he wasn’t saying. Like he saw everything they wanted to hide, and was keeping an eye on them.
But he hadn’t hurt them.
He’d joked with them. Given them advice. Acted like the two of them were casual acquaintances, or maybe even friends.
Sometimes, when they were talking with him, and he spoke of his clearly fictitious business ambitions or gossiped about his brother’s more comical traits, Frisk was almost able to forget that they were a human in a world full of monsters that wanted to kill them.
It felt… good. Like an echo of the safe, normal life other people theoretically had, but they’d only ever dreamed of experiencing.
A large, fuzzy, metal-clad weight stirred on their legs, jolting them back to the present moment. On their lap, Greater Dog squirmed and whined, and Frisk yanked their arm out from under the monster’s armored bulk, firmly petting its silky head in an effort to appease it.
I wonder if it knows it was hurting me. Dogamy and Dogaressa seemed to know.
I wonder if I should have killed them.
They’d seriously considered it. Even after coming to the mistaken conclusion that Frisk was a little puppy, the dogi had assailed them mercilessly, flinging hearts and swinging axes toward their vulnerable soul.
And even as they’d walked away from that fight, leaving the canines with their minds newly opened to the potential of dogs petting dogs, Frisk’s steps had been slowed by the fear that they’d just left a pair of merciless puppy-killers loose in the underground.
Is some poor puppy going to lose its brother because of me?
Greater Dog twisted in their lap, flopping over with its legs dangling in the air, and Frisk absentmindedly scratched its chin, wishing the armor wasn’t blocking their access to its soft, fluffy belly.
I probably should have killed those two. But what if they and Sans were friends?
I can’t do that to someone who’s nice enough to be my friend, even if he is a little scary sometimes.
At least… I hope we’re actually friends.
The events of an all-too-recent battle tumbled through their mind like burning coals, and Frisk’s teeth pressed into their lip as their fingers tightened in Greater Dog’s fur. Sans seems nice, but… he just stood there and watched us fight. I thought Gyftrot was going to kill me – it came so close.
And he just stood there and watched.
Would he have let me die?
The thought sent a tremor through Frisk’s breath, and their teeth sank deeper into their lip. Toriel wouldn’t have let that happen. But she isn’t here, because I didn’t listen and I left.
But would she have let it happen, if she knew what I did?
Their stomach twisted, and for a moment, Frisk wondered if they were about to puke on the dog that was half-asleep on their lap. With a straining swallow, they forced the sick feeling down, and their hands began to shake.
I wonder if Sans knows. Maybe that’s why he’s watching me so closely.
But if he knew, why would he make friends with me? Wouldn’t that make him want to kill me? Isn’t it a sentry’s job to stop people who kill people?
No wonder he didn’t want to help me. Except that… he did. With the lamp, and when he gave me that hint about blue stop signs.
I’m so confused.
Their breath was starting to shake audibly, guilt and loneliness combining with cold to send tremors shuddering through their whole body. A tear fell onto Greater Dog’s nose, startling the monster from its doze, and a soft whine leaked from its muzzle as it scrambled out of its armor.
Oh no, I woke it up, what’s it going to-
A warm, wet tongue slid across Frisk’s cheek, lapping a tear from their face, and a fuzzy paw nestled gently on their leg. Big, worried eyes stared into theirs, and this time, there was no mistaking the meaning of its whine.
It cares about me. The thought swelled in their chest, followed by a trembling sob, and they buried their hands in the monster’s fur, pulling it into a desperate hug. I don’t have to wonder or guess this time. Even if it wanted to kill me before, right now, I’m sure it cares.
The dog whimpered sympathetically, craning its head to lick the child’s cheeks faster than the tears could fall. Frisk buried their face in its neck, hugging it even harder as the sobs built into deep, ragged gasps.
The canine leaned into the embrace, and its affection fell like rain on desperately parched soil, spilling over in more and more tears until Frisk felt like there was nothing left to squeeze out. At last, with a deep, shaky breath, they set their hands in the snow and pushed themselves unsteadily to their feet.
“Thanks,” they said, giving their comforter a few last strokes on the head. “I needed that.”
The dog barked softly, gave their nose two parting licks, and then leaped into its abandoned suit of armor, somehow managing to pilot the outfit away with its rear end sticking out where its head should have been.
The sight drew a small giggle from Frisk, an unexpected bit of mirth at the end of the emotional storm. As they started to move in the canine’s wake, their spirits rose a bit.
Maybe the monsters here aren’t that bad. At least, not all of them.
They may not be as nice as Toriel, but if they’re at least as nice as Sans, Papyrus and that dog, I think I can make it.
Author's note:
If you want to read my original novels, you can find them here.
If you'd like to help me publish new chapters faster, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can spend more time writing stories and less time doing other things to make money.