#badsansuary

There were questions, hidden behind the veil of closure. He didn't need to be a mind-reader to feel them lurking, seeing them in how sometimes their eyes would flicker to his back, expectancy fidgeting its feet no matter the fatigue. This had been a break from the usual pattern. This was different.

But Aspen asked no questions, not as Nightmare led the way down another corridor, circling up a flight of stairs to a space with a few doors. Wordlessly he pushed one of these doors open, beckoning for Aspen to step inside.

They balked immediately, confusion rising to wash away the tired neutrality off their face. Brow scrunching, eyes rapidly flickering from the room interior back to Nightmare, Aspen fidgeted like a nervous horse in the doorway.

"I - I don't understand." Was it fear that sweetened their words? Was it anxiety? Was it something else, something that wove emotions together into a delicious complex tapestry? Nightmare guessed it was simple doubt, muddying waters of thoughts trying to catch up to the situation.

"You don't?" he questioned. "I thought most mortals had bedrooms."

It was, admittedly, a large and rather lavish bedroom. Nightmare had no time for minimalism or bare essentials - except maybe for those who broke his rules or earned his ire. This bedroom, like all the others for his men, had a well-sized bed, a desk (probably unusued by most in the castle), some dressers for storing clothes, and an adjacent door that he knew would lead to a reasonable bathroom. This one was more unique with the addition of book shelves, one already populated by a few books. A fireplace already crackled within one of the walls.

Aspen's lips moved, trying desperately to form a response. Nightmare waited, hands clasped behind his back and eyelight fixed on the human. Their words, eventually, pulled themselves free.

"Why?"

"You need space to rest and recover. As easy as it would be to let you return to your home universe after each visit or mission, I cannot allow you to slip away every time, especially when you return injured." Gesturing to the room, he continued, "Given how much you come to visit, this was well overdue. And given your last missions, you need this more than ever."

It wasn't winning Aspen over, not yet. Their arms kept curled tight to their chest, a cat's tail pulled in close to the body.

"This….doesn't feel right," they murmured. "I don't-"

"Doesn't feel right?" Nightmare's voice took on an edge as his eyelight flared, socket narrowing as he stared them down. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about working with me, little crow. After all the trust I thought we'd shown each other, after all I have helped teach you of your skills."

"No-no!" Hands lifting, defensive and reassuring, Aspen shook their head. "No, I still want this. I still - I want to be part of this story. Learning more, being out there…" Lithe like a dancer, they side-stepped the shadow of their actions, of what working with Nightmare meant. Instead they exhaled slowly, gritting their teeth slightly.

"I feel like…I'm not part of the guys here. I don't really fit like they do," they explained. "I have a home to go back to, I have the other half of my life, I'm…I stay because you asked. I had a choice."

Bold words. Nightmare wondered if they would feel the same if they knew the truth, that if they hadn't agreed to his offer of being taught how their doorways worked then he would have kept them regardless. They kept a special brand of naivety just for him.

"You don't feel as if you deserve to be part of this," he suggested.

"That's - well - sort of." They ground a fist into their eye, wiping something away. "I don't, not really. I'm not strong like any of the others, I'm always getting in the way, I keep causing fights, I'm…I'm a liability more than anything."

Nightmare was silent at first. He turned the words over in his mind, watched as Aspen saw him contemplating their statement, and felt themselves sink into the quiet horror of suspecting they had said too much. That perhaps they'd reached out and pulled a hidden truth into the light.

"Maybe so," Nightmare said quietly. "You are weaker, slower. You're human. But everyone causes fights in this castle. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I can't exactly vouch for the emotional stability of anyone under this roof. Including yourself." He tipped his head to the side, acknowleding the wince on Aspen's face. "And frankly, as a human who still is running themselves ragged in living two different lives, catching up to satisfactory combat skills, you are maintaining your footing better than others could."

Reaching out, he pressed a hand to the doorway, caging Aspen into the room itself even while they hesitated in the transition space.

"If I felt your actions were not enough, I would not include you as such. If you were truly a liability, I would not send you to do the work I need completed." A pause. Let the words sink in and take a moment to start being considered. "If I thought you were undeserving of a space to be your own, for you to recover from injuries under my watchful eye so I knew you were taken care of properly, then I would not give this to you."

Aspen couldn't hold his gaze, staring down into his sternum, slow purposeful breaths keeping them calm. He could still see the glint of a tear in the corner of one eyelid. But it wasn't sadness that wept over the edges of their SOUL - it was shame mixed with comfort.

Pulling a key from a robe pocket, Nightmare held it up to Aspen. It was meaningless, in a castle of skeletons most of whom could shortcut anywhere. But the symbol of privacy meant more than that, as Aspen slowly took the key and slid it into a pocket of their own. Leaning back, Nightmare hummed quietly.

"Someone will be here soon to take care of your injuries, anything that still needs treatment. Otherwise I suggest you take the time to settle into these new surroundings. Make yourself at home."

For a moment it seemed Aspen had something to respond with. But the fatigue still hung back in their head and in their limbs. And their words were swallowed.

Head ducked down, Aspen began to sidle away into the room, only for Nightmare to catch their shoulder. Just a few seconds more.

"A moment."

Lifting up a small vial, Nightmare pressed a phalange to the opening. Corruption oozed down into the glass, turned it wholly black and iridescent, before the vial was tucked into an opening within a charm. He held the charm and silver chain out to Aspen.

"Here. To replace the one that Dust destroyed."

"Ah." They hadn't even told him. Sheepishly they hung the new locket around their neck, tucking it under their shirt. "Thank you."

As Aspen flittered away and into the room itself, Nightmare glanced up to the presence of a shortcut closing just a few steps away.

"Well timed," he commented, stepping back to allow Cross into the room. "I'll leave the patient in your capable hands."

"As capable as can be," Cross deadpanned back. "We're running low on supplies after Horror's ribcage cracking and Dust getting punched, shaken and frozen. Those might not have been big deals but stuff's going to start running out sometime." He glanced up, across to Aspen, who was now gingerly taking a seat on the bed. Just barely, Nightmare saw a softening in the soldier's face. "At least I don't have to worry about using bone wrappings for you."

Aspen managed a faint smile of humour, even as Nightmare huffed the barest laugh.

"They shouldn't be too bad. Consider them off the sparring roster for a few days. Treat what is visible and check for anything that isn't, then report back to me with any concerns."

The door closed behind Cross, leaving Nightmare in the empty corridor.

Not-so empty corridor.

He walked away, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted flagstones. His new little shadow flickered behind him, soon falling into step.

"How goes the frog in the pot?" Killer asked.

"Just another notch hotter," Nightmare replied. "Giving them more reason to stay will pull them a little more from their old life. Each small step lures them deeper in."

"It's kinda boring. Long games. Being patient." Killer scoffed slightly, before turning his head to look fully up at Nightmare. "You mean what you said? About them deserving to be part of this group?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." A little shooing motion, like brushing lint off his arm. "Go and check on Horror. I have our other new recruit to go meet with."

"Suit yourself, Night-Night."

The exploration of this monster settlement had gone easily enough, just strolling through the town and seeing what sort of people had posted up, what was the overall mood, did anyone squint at either Dust or Aspen for being outsiders or being, void forbid, a human? Walk around, try to avoid too much trouble, and leave back to the pick-up point to camp out for the next day of the same thing. Nightmare liked for them to go through at least a couple of days of these cycles after finding a new AU, unless something went wrong (like it often did).

And sure enough they'd just gotten through into the morning of the second day and now everything was snow pouring from the open skies above and Dust wasn't completely sure if the village was even close despite walking for what had felt like a solid hour.

A whisper travelled down his spine. "Failure."

Normally it was easy to brush those sorts of whispers off but the haze and the cold dug icy fingers into Dust's joints. Like the snow was trying to burrow into his mind each time he inhaled.

Wrapped up in many more layers than him, Aspen squinted through the heavy blizzard. The snow pasted itself over their coat and hair, trying to build layers where it could, wet and heavy. It was like they were turning into a snowman. Spluttering out another mouthful of snowflakes, they turned back to Dust.

"Maybe we should go back to camp," they called out over the snow. "We can follow our footsteps most of the way, although this sort of snowfall-"

"No." Dust started to trudge forward again. Groaning in dismay, Aspen wrapped their coat tighter and followed after him.

"What are we going to get if we go down there?" they pushed on. "Everyone will be indoors. If we try to get inside somewhere, we'll be noticed for sure."

Being noticed was tricky. Being noticed meant being seen, being possible recognised on a return visit. Remaining strangers and the odd loners from out of town meant being easily forgettable, given enough time for the memories to fade.

But his memory would not fade, not when it clung onto every kill and every loop, even when they threatened to blend together.

Dust lifted his hand to look at the snowflakes gathering on his gloves, not quite yet soaking in.

The light trickle of powder coated the cloth. It was grey. All monsters crumbled to grey in the end.

Frantically he wiped his gloves down, even as more snow blurred over his gloves and trousers.

"Murderer."

A flicker of red out of the corner of his socket. Aspen's voice calling out his name was a dull drone over the roar of the wind and the snow, and yet the whisper was still clear as the crisp of cold.

"Fraud."

Dust kept walking. Eventually, Aspen stopped trying to get him to stop.

More gusts pushed flurries into Dust's vision. The snow blurred across the snow, turning the landscape into white on white static, fighting the shadows of the clouds to create some vague mottling of the world.

Something moved.

It was so easy to see, the way that movement, that shape, broke through the perpetual haze. Dust froze, attention snapping towards where the person had been, already disappearing into the blizzard. His magic sparked over his fingers, ready for a target.

He waited. Staring.

There. A shape, rising towards him again, broad shouldered and wielding….a trident?

"Why would you betray us?"

Dust's breath froze, just for a second. Then he struck out at the incoming horror, pulled out of his own past, King Asgore's face disintegrating into dust and snow as the bones flew through without a shred of resistance.

"Murderer."

That warm voice so cold and furious, hissed from behind Dust's shoulder. Another shape loomed, this time Toriel's expression of despair and fear was shattered by Dust lunging towards her, sharpened bone fragments scattering her image.

The blizzard roared around him, suddenly feeling so much colder. There was something wrong out here, something rotten, some part of him causing the past to reek in the bitter snow. Dust stared wildly around, waiting for the next attacker to form from the falling snowflakes, adrift alone in a sea of white on white on white on dust on grey on fragemented monsters-

"Dust!"

Hands grabbed his hoodie, shaking him roughly. Dust blinked the snow from his sockets, staring into Aspen's face of red cheeks and gritted teeth. The briefest anger smouldered and vanished into concern, reading something he'd left out in the open before he could close it again.

"I heard you fighting, what happened?" they asked.

"There's…there's nothing." His words curled, voice too thin. Too close to breaking. Dust's gaze flashed around, seeking out the movement in the snow again. "Nothing, nothing."

Aspen squinted, taking a moment to look around as well. The snow had been churned up by Dust's attacks, but they couldn't see any other signs of people.

Dust was too busy cradling his skull, trying to force his breath to even back out. Papyrus drifted into view, teeth curled in a disgraced sneer, his outline blurred by the snowflakes.

"Weak."

"I'm not weak!" Dust snapped back, causing Aspen to flinch backwards. They opened their mouth to retort, only to see how his gaze didn't fix on them - there was something else that Dust's vision was hooked on. Something else he was responding too.

Life or death. It wasn't the case, and maybe Nightmare would be angry about it afterwards, but Aspen wasn't going to let Dust continue to spiral out with the threat of freezing looming over them both. They reached for the locket and pulled the vial free.

A bone slammed into their wrist and another into their hand. Pain flared up the limb, a choked cry strangling itself as Aspen hurried to cradle their arm tightly. Wide eyes rang with the shock, hurrying to refocus their thoughts, before glancing to the one that had struck the blow.

Dust stared them down, trembling hand outstretched. Haggard breaths met the tremor that rattled his ribs.

A raised spear. A plea to a friend.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sans."

Those were gone now and Aspen was starting to paw through the snow with their one free hand, muttering harried shivering words.

"No, no. Not the key. Not that." The realisation was slow, freezing them over until they were left hunched over the ground, clouds of breath to match their panting exhales. Then a glower was levelled on Dust.

"What?" he snapped.

"You just fucking lost our emergency rip-cord back to the castle!" Aspen retorted, pulling themselves up to full height (a whole extra inch on top of Dust - it was nothing but they stood like it meant something). The anger roared off them, a dozen, a hundred, a thousand voices whistling through the blizzard wind.

You killed us.

Dust braced himself for the next blow, fingers itching for his magic, another set of bones already materialising in the snow.

Taking a step away, Aspen turned and hid their head in their hand, a broken sob of frustration and pain rising up. They stared out into the storm, eyes briefly vacant, their mind turned inwards. Before finally reaching back and grabbing Dust by the arm.

"We're going back to the camp."

"What?!"

"Face it! We're not going to be going anywhere in a hurry, especially not down to the village and you-" They let go of his sleeve long enough to grab him by the hood. "-are not well right now." The heat died for a just long enough to be soft, to be that sickening soft that ground against Dust's teeth and itched against his spine. "I'm not going to let something bad happen to you too."

"Too late, genius," Dust spat at them. "It already happened."

Gaze hardening back to ice and turning on their heel, Aspen continued to plow their way back up the slope. Their grip did not relinquish Dust's hood, dragging him after them. And he writhed, he screamed back at them. When he brought another bone down on their knuckles he watched their softness vanish completely, a blind rage that slugged that bruised fist across Dust's face.

In the fringes of blizzard, he could see them. Mocking him. Loathing him. Papyrus at the forefront as always, his scarf fluttering like the remains of a dead bird in the wind.

It took a long, painful time to get back to the cave that had been picked out to shelter in. Snow had buried itself in Dusk's sockets, under his sternum, in his shoes. The cold itched against the bones that now stung from slaps and punches. A similarly bruised Aspen found a place to slump against the stone wall and rest their forehead on their knees.

He could walk away. He could walk straight back out into the blizzard, down towards the village. Down into the open hands of ghosts and their judgement.

But now, despite the fighting, all Dust felt was exhausted. Like the whispers had left themselves behind in the whistling wind and snowflakes.

Finding a different wall, he curled himself up on the ground.

The cold burrowed deep and hollowed out his insides, in just the right way.

At some point Aspen made a new fire, fumbling with stiff fingers over the firewood and flint. Dust could hear them crunching through rations, and watched a stubborn hand shove him a box of….something. It was some kind of monster food. Dust could eat it.

It ended up being something to pass the time at least.

Outside the wind continued to blow, occasionally spewing a mouthful of snow into the cave, the flakes melting quickly on the stone floor. The vague sense of light began to fade, until only the fireplace remained to illuminate. Dust rolled onto his back, staring across at the embers, and beyond at Aspen. They glowered back with glittery eyes, red-rimmed.

"…Weak," Dust grumbled under his breath. Like his face didn't still ache. He just closed his sockets and let his mind sink.