#dragonashes writes

The shortcut to the Monster Embassy was everything he’d feared it would be and worse.  The spot he’d picked to teleport to - a small supply closet he’d hid out in a few times when tagging along with Boss - was more crowded than he remembered, and he knocked over several brooms and a bucket as he tried to find his footing.  He was lucky he hadn’t broken something.

He was also lucky that the embassy was too well-trafficked to make a barrier a possibility.  Trying to teleport into a barrier wasn’t something he’d ever tried, but...

...Wait.

He patted his pockets.  His empty pockets, devoid of a phone.  Oh, stars. He’d just gotten himself stuck outside, hadn’t he.  He buried the thought deep and carefully opened the supply closet door.  The hallway beyond was busier than he remembered, but no one questioned him when he slouched over to where he vaguely remembered the offices being.

It was uncomfortable being in the embassy, and not just because every bone in his body was screaming at him.  It was so bright.  The walls were light shades of green and blue and orange, and the ceilings were white.  There was plenty of lighting, but it was already an uncommonly sunny winter day; why did they need the lights on??  The simple benches in the hallway and a common area beyond gave the area a sleek and minimalistic feel.

It was the antithesis of what the Underground had been, with its darkness and grime and entire cities built from trash.  He didn’t know how to feel about that.

The office space in the embassy was a large room decorated in soft browns and greens and more potted plants than he’d ever seen in his life.  Doors along the walls had names and silly decorations, leading - he guessed - to offices for the senior staff. Several rows of cubicles on the edges of the room served as desk space for humans and monsters running to and from conference rooms and copy machines.  The open are in the center was like the eye of a storm: small groups had settled on the couches or were hovering near the tall bar tables, chatting in low voices or eating an early lunch.

He almost walked straight past Frisk’s office.  The room he’d thought was her office - a large and ostentatious space - turned out to be a conference room; hopefully, no one noticed him poking his head in.  In his embarrassment, he nearly didn’t notice a small, humble name plaque on a nearby door that read:

Frisk Dreemurr Ambassador for Monsters

That was it.  No fanfare, no mention of any of the other roles and titles she held.  Someone had stuck a stylized little paper angel near the doorknob, and there was a Delta Rune etched into the frosted glass, but it was surprisingly simple.

He hesitated, one hand raised to knock on the door.  What if she was mad at him? Boss was always angry when Sans showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.  Frisk wasn’t Boss, and had gone well out of her way to help him, but he couldn’t shake the comparison.

The door opened before he made up his mind.

“Sans?  Is...are you okay?  How did you get up here?”  She stepped aside and gestured him in, closing the door quickly behind him.

“You left your lunch.”  He held out the offending package.  “Your mom asked if I’d bring it to ya.”

“Oh.  Thanks.”  She set it on her desk, then moved it to the side so she could fiddle with some papers.  Her free hand was drumming a frantic beat on the desktop. “Do you have - no, you won’t be able to teleport back to the house with the barrier up.  Shoot. Shoot.”

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Yes, fine, I just have a very important meeting in a few minutes.”

The half-lie was so smooth he barely caught it.

He opened his mouth, about to say he could just go home, then realized his error.  He didn’t have a home anymore. “If I can borrow your phone, I can call someone at the house-”

“You're sure you can’t teleport home?”

“Too low on magic.”  Just the idea of teleporting again made him feel tired.

A ding! made her flinch and pull out her cell phone.  Whatever message she’d received made the crease between her eyebrows deepen.  “Sans, come with me.”

“Uh…”

“You’re dressed...fine.  Okay; this’ll work. Stay with me and do exactly what I say, please.  Oh; here.” She handed him a notepad and pencil. “Take notes or something; it’ll keep people from looking at you strangely.”

He wanted to protest, he really did.  Being ordered around had always grated on him, even after living so long under Boss’s rule.  But this was Frisk, who had saved his life and offered him sanctuary, and he couldn’t say no to her when she looked so shaken.  If taking control of the situation in this little way helped her regain her equilibrium, well, he'd survive. He’d been through worse.

The pair left the office area and went down a long hallway lined with windows.  Below them in the courtyard snow fell softly on the garden and the statues of a young boss monster and seven human children.  The walkways and flowerbeds were barely visible, little more than lumps and dips in the thick blanket of white.

Around a corner and down another hallway was a large conference room.  Frisk settled herself at the table with a motley group of other humans and monsters, gesturing Sans into one of the seats along the wall behind her.  He let himself be guided, a bit confused. Sure, some of the people looked pretty strange and were wearing funny clothes, but he saw nothing that could have caused Frisk to use her powers over time itself.

On the far wall, a logo of some kind was slowly appearing on a large projector screen.  A short human woman perched on a stepladder was tinkering with the setup, adjusting wires and pushing buttons on a remote she held.  After a few minutes the image suddenly changed and a second conference room, this one full of human men and women in dark business suits, appeared on the screen.  The remote was handed over to Frisk with a smile and a “call me if it starts making that sound again” as she was led out by one of the guards stationed at the door.

The guards were a combination of human security, easily identifiable by their uniforms, and the Royal Guards.  Sans was a little disturbed to realize that he didn’t recognize any of them. Either they’d been Hotland guards or they were new recruits.  Where was Undyne? Sure, she had other duties, but she tended to stick close to Frisk.

Maybe he was being paranoid.

The meeting itself was incredibly boring, at least from Sans’s perspective.  The most interesting part was when Frisk started speaking a rather musical foreign language, which was pretty neat, but it also meant he couldn’t understand what was going on.  Ten minutes in, and he was writing down macabre jokes in an attempt to stay awake and not embarrass her after she’d been so nice to him. The chair was supremely uncomfortable; he regretted ever worrying about the kiddo and agreeing to take her lunch to her.  Time ticked on slowly like he was sinking into swamp water. There was no reason for him to be there. There was nothing-

Actually, that human across from Frisk looked suspicious.  Sans tried to place him and failed completely, but something about him seemed strangely familiar.  He was wearing a picture ID badge - all the visiting dignitaries were - but it was too far away for Sans to read.  What he could see was the way the man was looking at Frisk.  It seemed...well. There was something there he couldn’t quite trace, something a little guilty and a little possessive and a little of something else that put him on edge.

The really strange thing was that Frisk never appeared to even glance the man’s way.  It was hard to tell from looking at the back of her head, but she certainly never spoke directly to him.  It was a large enough group that it was excusable, and he never spoke directly to her either, but the way she tensed every time he shifted made Sans wary.

A scuffle at the door made the guards tense, but a moment later Undyne shoved her way into the room.  Sans watched as she canvassed the room, did a double-take at seeing him, and softly stepped over to Frisk.  She whispered something in Frisk’s ear before joining Sans in the seats along the wall.

Sitting next to a live, sparking wire would have been less stressful.  She didn’t glance at him, didn’t ask why he was there or what he was doing, but he knew with absolute certainty that she was aware and curious.  Undyne didn’t seem like the type to be professional about such things, but she never did conform to what was expected of her. She just sat there, arms crossed, watching Frisk with a very intense expression.

Sans wondered if she remembered the anomaly as well.  Maybe she had a better idea of what was going on.

A sudden shuffling of papers marked either the end of the meeting or a break; he knew how long those things could get but hadn’t been paying attention.  Frisk stood abruptly and strode towards the door, followed by a rush of aides and politicians. Undyne turned to glare at him.

“...What?” he muttered.

The glare intensified.

More from a desire to get away from the crazy fish lady than anything, he followed Frisk out the door.

If she noticed him jogging along behind her, she didn’t react.  She just walked as quickly as she could towards her office without actually running.  Her office door smacked him in the face but she caught it at the last moment, letting him through before closing it quietly.

For all her composure and apparent easy confidence, Sans could clearly see her hands shaking.

“You...uh, you okay?”

“Yes.  Fine.”

“C’mon, give me some credit.  ‘M not that out of it.”

“Everything is alright.  I didn’t take you for a worrier, Sans.”

For the first time, he could see that she was deliberately baiting him.  How many times had she done that, used his fickle temper against him to avoid talking about something uncomfortable?  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He swallowed his temper and gave her a lazy grin.  “Wonders never cease. Was it that guy?”

“What guy?”  The way she stiffened said that she knew exactly what he meant, and she was too distraught to cover her reactions properly.  “There were plenty of-”

“Cut the crap.  The one who sat down almost right across from you.  Tall, brown hair, dark blue suit and grey tie? Ringing any bells, kiddo?”

“I...I don’t…”

There was a strange feeling of guilt as he watched her composure fail.  She didn’t wail or shriek or curse, just...sat there quietly, behind her desk, her face in her hands and her shoulders slumped.  Tears leaked out from between her fingers.

“Look, seriously, what’s up?  Are y’in trouble? I dunno how much good it’ll do, but ‘m sure Undyne ‘n I can take ‘im out if it’s important to ya…”

Her hiccupping laugh had an edge of hysteria to it.  “You don’t know how much that means to me, but...it’s a bit late now.  Stars, I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”

“Psh.  ‘Ts never too late for a good bit of revenge.”

“No, no, I’d just feel guilty if I unleashed you and Undyne on him now.  No matter what he...what happened. Can you hand me a Kleenex? That box right there on the edge of my desk.”

Sans found the bright cardboard box full of soft pieces of paper - Kleenexes? - and handed it over.

“Thanks.”  She blew her nose and cleaned up her eyes a bit.  They still looked red and puffy.

“So’s the meeting done?”

“Hmm?  Oh, yes.  I have a bit of paperwork and some phone calls, but Undyne offered to take you back to the house.  There’s no need to wait with me.”

He didn’t budge.  Not only did he not know where Undyne was, he also didn’t want to relive the day yet again.  He couldn’t see a clock, and he didn’t have his phone, so he couldn’t tell if this attempt had lasted longer than the previous one.  Had he made a difference after all?

“Sans…”

“Dunno where Undyne is.”

“You’re being...really difficult right now.”

“I’m a difficult guy.”

“Aren’t you also a recovering guy?  Didn’t your brother just try to dust you?”

He didn’t flinch.  He didn’t.  “I’m resting here just fine.”

“I see the way you’re holding yourself.  Your legs and your ribs be killing you right now. Just go home with Undyne, get some food and take a nap.”

“There’s something weird going on here.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“You were crying.”  He winced internally; it sounded like an accusation.

Instead of the anger he expected, Frisk just stared at her hands.  “Why do you care?”

“I owe you.  No, let me finish.  You ‘n Undyne saved my life.  You think I’m just gonna forget that?  And...well, we haven’t always gotten along, but I’d like to think that changed a little.  That we have some common ground somewhere.”

“You mean...Attie.”

“Well.  Uh. Sure.  I mean, you’re not half bad either when you’re not sending big boxes of peanuts to my house.”

She snorted, actually snorted, and he felt a reluctant grin tug at his mouth.  Okay, in hindsight, the peanut incident had been kinda funny.

“Whatever happened to them?”

“Gave most of ‘em to Grillbz.  He put them out at the bar. ‘Course Boss m-”  He felt himself choke on his words for a moment and cursed himself.  “Boss had me eat them breakfast, lunch ‘n dinner ‘till I proved they were ‘gone;’ he didn’t want good food to go to waste.”  His grin felt strained.

“Oh.  I’m sorry-”

“Pft.  Don’t apologize; that ruins it.  I did send you that box of live spiders first, remember?  It was good ‘n proper revenge.”

She smiled a little, but it looked reluctant.  “I guess it was. Those poor spiders were very unhappy after going through the postal system, I’ll have you know.  We got most of them back to Muffet, but I suspect we still have one or two who decided to hang out here in the Embassy instead.  Hah. Hard to believe...we didn’t get along for so long, and here we are. Funny how that works, hmm?”

“Y-yeah.”

Of course they hadn’t gotten along, he reminded himself yet again.

He’d killed her in cold blood.  Many times.

He kept forgetting that with this new camaraderie.

That was the reason he couldn’t flat-out ask Frisk what had happened before she moved time back.  If she didn’t remember doing it, he’d look crazy. If she did remember doing it, then that meant that she remembered how he’d tossed her around until her skull and ribs cracked, blasted her to ash, stabbed at her soft belly and delicate hands and sensitive eyes-

“Sans?  Everything okay?”

Everything was not okay.  He nodded anyways.

“You looked a little lost there for a minute.  What happened?”

“Just...remembering.  Something bad. Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize.  I’m...well, you saw. I’m hardly one to judge.”  She took a deep breath, folding and unfolding the Kleenex in her hands with steady movements.  “I knew that man. The one who sat across from me. He...he hurt me, very badly, and due to the circumstances he was never brought to justice.  I didn’t realize he’d been invited to a meeting with the Japanese ambassador, of all people. I usually have warnings about these things, but today…”  She shrugged.

Sans didn’t know what to say.  Why was she telling him this? Was this supposed to make him feel better?

“But...yeah, that’s why I rushed out of there.  I told them that I had a conference call. I may have lied a little.  In Japanese. So you didn’t find out.”

He stared at her for a moment, then burst into helpless laughter.  “Y’didn’t want me to find out?  Who the hell would I tell?  I don’t know those big-ass politician types!”

“I didn’t want you to call me out on it, okay?  Tact hasn’t...always been something you’re great at.  I mean-”

“Heh.  You’re right.”  It was weird, watching her try to justify her criticisms.  He knew very well that he wasn’t tactful.  He had no reason to be. He could dance around subjects that made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t care much about how it affected others.  It was something he’d probably have to work on, now. “So. You gonna tell me who that guy was?”

She eyed him warily.  “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Invite him out for tea and cookies.”

“Hah.  Nope. There’s no way in hell I’m going to sic you on him.”

“Alright, then, just tell me who he is.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d go after him on your own, and probably rope Undyne into it.  And it would be a huge international incident and I’d have weeks of paperwork just to keep you from being tried in the human court system.”

“And Undyne wouldn’t be?”

Frisk shrugged.  “She’s Captain of the Royal Guard.  Leaders of the Guard still have immunity from prosecution when executing their duties, just like they did Underground.  Of course, it would still look bad, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Drat.”  The immunity thing was one reason why the Guard had been so distrusted Underground: they were a law unto themselves, as long as they didn’t cross Asgore.  Of course, when Undyne had killed the former captain and assumed command of the Guard, she’d put that loophole to good use cleaning up both their ranks and the Underground in general.  It helped that she had trained under Asgore himself for a time; vindictive as the king was, he had enough of a soft spot for her that he didn’t give into the cries for vengeance from his people. He didn’t protect her from assassination attempts, but he didn’t hand her over to the crowds, either.  “This guy is important, then? If it would cause a big incident?”

“Yes.”

“And...he’s Japanese?  He didn’t look like the other Japanese people.  Actually, he looked familiar...”

“No.  Fine. He’s a lobbyist.”

Sans vaguely remembered the term from when he was sitting in on meetings early on in their negotiations, when they were trying to find an arrangement that would let them out of the Underground, but the definition escaped him.  “That’s...too bad?”

She smiled.  “It means he works for a group of people who all want the same thing...at least in theory.  Workers’ unions have powerful lobbies, for example: teachers, policemen, firefighters, actors, railroad workers, airline pilots: they all have large memberships and can carry some serious political weight.  There are also lobbyists for companies, like pharmaceutical companies and banks and telecommunications providers, and special interest groups like members of a certain race or religion or people who want something in particular. Part of what makes these groups so powerful is that they’re hired, not elected; politicians change, but lobbyists stick around.

“That man was working for a civil rights lobby when I...met him.  You probably saw him, too, in the meetings you sat in on when we were first trying to gain citizenship.  He wasn’t terribly outspoken, but he wielded a lot of power. He was here on behalf of a group of energy companies today.  I’m not sure who invited him, but he speaks enough Japanese that I couldn’t reasonably call his presence into question.”

“That’s...wait.  “Civil rights;” that’s what humans call the whole issue of treating certain people in certain ways, right?”

“Well...that’s not quite how they’d put it, but I guess that's a fair enough assessment.”

“Then he was fighting against monsters having rights?”

Frisk sunk down in her chair a little.  “No, Sans. He was fighting for monster rights.  He was on our side.”

“Oh.”  Even on the surface, things were so awfully messy.  “I guess that’s what you meant by “circumstances,” then.”

“Partly.  If I’d said something, he could have turned it on us and made us look bad.  There were civil rights groups on both sides, you know; some saw us as an infringement on their “turf,” as it were.  Everything in the civil rights world is comparative: the biggest victims win. A lot of them helped make changes for the better when they started out - and many still do - but the political side is a competition for eyes and ears and money.  And how do you beat being buried under a mountain and left to rot for millennia? There were many powerful people who didn’t want us up here.  It was partly thanks to this man’s intervention that we won, despite...well.”

“Despite what?”

“Please...don’t ask.”  She looked like she was almost about to cry again.  “I just...I can’t do this today. There’s a reason I haven’t told people.  Please, just let it go.”

Naturally, this made every bone in Sans’s body want to dig deeper, but he nodded instead.  He could find out in other ways.

Once he was feeling better, maybe.  He shifted and winced; he'd been able to ignore it in the heat of the moment, but he was still very, very sore.

“Alright, that's enough.  Let’s go find Undyne and get you home.”

“Yyyyup, okay.”

Undyne’s grin was sharp when she was told that Sans would be taking her up on her offer.  She looked vindictive.  The driving wasn’t nearly as smooth as it had been the last time he rode with her; he was pretty sure he had some new bruises on his ribs in the shape of the car door handle.

“What’s eating you?” he asked when they were stopped at a red light.  “Didn’t get your coffee?”

“No,” she growled.  “I mean...that’s not it.  You saw that asshole, right?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw no butts-”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

A soccer mom in the van next to them glanced over, worried.

“Heh, fine.  Which asshole?”

“The one sitting across from Frisk at the meeting, in the blue suit.”

“Yeah.”

“Whaddaya know about him?”

Well that was a pickle.  Had Frisk meant her explanation to be private?  Undyne was, famously, her bestie; did Undyne know?  “Frisk...said he was a lobbyist. Something to do with energy.”

“Hmph.  Just like her to leave out the important bits so she doesn’t worry anyone.”  The light turned and she looked back at the road, nimbly navigating around the soccer mom.  “Listen up, punk. The only reason I’m telling you this is because Frisk likes you now, and you haven’t gone after her.  If that changes I’m gonna have to dust you, but I’m not gonna spit in an ally’s face.

“So if you’re gonna be part of this friendship group thing, this is what you need to know.  That guy hurt her. Bad. Don’t know why or how, but I have my guesses.” Another red light allowed her to look over at him with an intense eye.  “Don’t you ever allow her to be alone with him, do you hear me?”

“‘Kay.”

“Stars-damnit, Sans, this is serious-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.  Don’t let her be alone with the asshole.”

“Good.  Do you remember what he looks like?”

“Uuuuhh…”

“Tch.  Here.” She unlocked her phone one-handed, pulled up a picture, and tossed it to him.  “Memorize that face. When your weak ass is healed up I’ll get you back in close quarters with him so you can get a good feel for him, too.”

It amused him that she was treating his ability to detect differences in magic like the dogs’ ability to pick up a scent trail.  He didn’t say so - she’d probably get mad and crash the car - but it was still funny.

“What’re you grinning for?”

“I’m a skeleton.  I can’t not grin.”

“You know what I mean!!”

“Car.”

“What-oh.  Don’t tell me how to drive, asshole!”  She swerved around the slow car all the same, barely missing its rear bumper.  “You’re in a mood today, aren’t you.  Bastard.”

He hummed in agreement.  “I’ll keep an eye out for this guy, though.”

“Good.  You followed Frisk to her office, right?”

“...Yeah?”

Undyne took a deep breath.  “Don’t be a fishstick about this, but...did she cry?”

He considered giving her a hard time for a brief moment, then relented.  “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

“Hah.  No wonder you’re so on-board; you never could put up with tears for long.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.  So many little shits from Snowdin owe you their lives.  Any proper sentry would’ve dusted them for breaking the law, but no, not you; they bawled their eyes out about how much their home life sucks, and you just growled something nasty and patted them on the head and sent them to Grillby’s.  And he would make them wash dishes and give them food.”

“They were kids, Undyne.”

“They were teenagers and plenty old enough to know not to paint obscene messages on the town bulletin board.  At the very least, a night cooling their heels in lockup would’ve done a few of them some good.”

“Hey, I stopped them when I saw them.”

“Yeah, and how often was that?  Once a month? I swear, you spent more time sleeping on that job than you did actually working.  At least you’re better at keeping an eye on things now, right?”

“Uh, right.”

“Sans…”

“I caught those kids going up the mountain a few weeks back, didn’t I?”

She sighed.  “Yeah, I guess you did.  But that doesn’t give you an excuse to start slacking off again!  When you’re back in business, of course.”

He relaxed against the back of the seat as they pulled in the driveway.  Undyne reached over and put two fingers on his skull to bring him through the wards, then cackled when he brushed her hand away.  “How long’ll it be ‘till I’m back in business, then, doc?  It’s not like injuries stopped us from working before.  It’s all sitting, mostly.”

“Yeah, but we don’t want your dear baby brother finding you at work; anything he’d do would be “on duty” technically, and he is your - ugh! - "boss."  Nope, you’re staying here with Frisk until your emancipation goes through, then we’re finding you another place.”

Frisk eyed herself in the mirror, face half-turned away.  The bruise from the doorframe (who runs into a doorframe?) was almost gone, healed by magic and time, but the remainder stubbornly kept showing through her makeup.

Oh, well.

It’s not like Sans would notice, anyways.  He was a great boyfriend, but not really the most...observant.  It was a little annoying sometimes, but no one is perfect, right?  That thought helped Frisk tamp down on the guilt she felt, using his flaws to hide her mistakes.

He’d just worry if he saw, anyways.  He cared about her; not as much as he cared about Papyrus (family comes first, and Frisk wasn’t really family) but enough.  And Frisk had seen first-hand what happened to anyone who messed with Papyrus.

With one last glance in the mirror, Frisk grabbed her purse and shoes and stumbled out of the house.  The drive over to the brothers’ house took only about ten minutes, so despite the bad weather she didn’t feel justified asking Sans to use a shortcut.  Despite his protests to the contrary, she guessed it took a lot of energy out of him.  He didn’t use his shortcuts very often, after all, and when he did it was mostly...well.  Mostly for her.

Frisk felt her cheeks heating.  He really was a good boyfriend. She couldn’t even count all the little things Sans did for her, from leaving her flowers to using shortcuts to bring her home after work to taking her on impromptu dates when she was feeling down.  It was one area where he always seemed to be entirely on-point: he always seemed to somehow know her mood, and was surprisingly good at adjusting his own behavior accordingly.

She smiled and eased her car into a smooth stop outside the brothers’ house.  Yeah, Sans was the best.  Sure, he wasn’t big on physical contact, but that wasn’t why she was dating him.  And if he sometimes needed a day or two to himself, well, didn’t everyone?  He always seemed so happy to see her again after he sorted himself out, and tended to be almost clingy.  Well, for him.  He usually hugged her, sometimes twice!  And rarely let her out of his sight!

She checked her phone one more time on her way up to the door. Sans hadn’t texted her back after she confirmed her arrival time; maybe he was in a mood again.  He usually let her know when he was feeling that way, though.  Papyrus would know, right?

Frisk knocked on the door and listened for the usual tussle as the skeleton brothers decided who would open the door.  Nothing.  She felt her stomach drop.  She was just reaching into her purse for the lockpicks Sans had given her when…

“...Human Frisk?”  Papyrus stood in the doorway, looking more nervous and distressed than she had ever seen him.

“Papyrus?  What on Earth is wrong?”

“I...please do not be angry.  I-I can explain-”  He muttered and rubbed his gloved hands.

Directness was usually the best way to reach the big guy. “Papyrus, calm down, okay?  I’m not angry.  I’m very worried right now because I don’t know what’s going on, but can we talk about it inside?”

“Oh!  Right!  Humans are not built for rain.”  He lingered in the doorway awkwardly, as if not sure he actually wanted to let her inside, before finally shuffling out of the way.

Frisk stepped inside carefully, keeping her footsteps soft. “Thanks.  Now what’s wrong?  I don’t understand why you’re being so…” Un-Papyrus-like “...quiet.”

“Oh.”  He paused, shifted, and glanced briefly towards the staircase that led up to the bedrooms.  “I...Sans is sleeping.”

That was a surprise.  “I...see.  I thought...we did make plans for this evening, but if he’s tired-”

“No, no, wait!  I have an idea!”  He grabbed both of her hands, vibrating in place with an energy very different than his usual self-confidence.  “I...I can go out on a date with you!  Yes!  That’s the perfect solution!  My brother can sleep, and you can get your date!”

“That’s...not the way it works, Papyrus.”

“What?  Why not?”

“Well...I’m dating Sans.  It’s not that you’re not a great guy - you’re the greatest! - but dating is a special kind of relationship.”

“I...do not understand.”

Frisk extracted her hands and sighed.  “You only date one person at a time, Papyrus.  It’s an exclusive relationship.  I’m not going to cheat on Sans with his own brother; that would be extremely disrespectful to both him and you.”  Okay, so humans definitely had exceptions to that rule, but she didn’t want to confuse the poor guy. Besides, she was a one-skeleton girl.

“Then...can he please have a break from the dating?”

“Um, what?”

“Don’t be angry!”

“I’m not angry; I’m confused.  Why do you think Sans needs a break from dating?”  She mentally ran through her most recent interactions with Sans.  He’d been a little more distant lately, but not so much that it threw up any red flags.  He’d seemed tired, but he’d been working overtime in the Core again.  He’d been looking forward to spending some time off with his brother and his friends.  He hadn’t said anything about his relationship with her; in fact, he’d seemed excited about their plans.

“B-because...hasn’t he done enough?  For you, I mean?  I...I just thought he would have paid you back by now.”

“What?”  She tried to keep her voice down - she really did - but some distant part of her mind recognized that she was starting to panic.  The low-level anxiety that had been simmering since she realized the house was too quiet skyrocketed.  “Pay me back for what?  Why do you think Sans owes me?  We’re dating.  He doesn’t owe me anything!”

“Oh!”  Papyrus relaxed and gave her a true smile for the first time that evening.  “Then you’ll let him stay home?  You won’t ask him to go on his date?”

“Um, no, Papyrus.  Dating...it goes both ways.  Sans doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

“Really??”

“Really.  People date because they like each other!”

Papyrus looked confused.  “Then...why did you make him date you?”

Coming from any other person, that would have been insulting.  This, though...this was Papyrus.  He wouldn’t know the definition of an insult if it hit him square in the face.  He sounded honestly confused...and that hurt.

“I-I didn’t-”

“You did!  You told him he had to date you because of your bet!”

“No, I-”

The kitchen table, covered in cards and bottle caps.  Thin, bony hands tapping lazily against the wood.  

“looks like i’m out.  what do i owe ya?”  

“T-take me out for dinner, and we’ll call it even.”  Crossed fingers, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t laugh.  

A long pause.  “...sure, kid.  lemme grab my jacket.”  

Their first date.  Right after a card game.

“I-I never meant…”

That stupid, stupid card game.  She’d been so proud to have finally beaten Sans at poker, especially when he’d been flagrantly cheating the entire time. She’d thought he’d just laugh off her demand for a date, not acquiesce.  Not actually engage her in intelligent conversation.  Not ask if he could take her out again sometime.

“...Human Frisk?”

Frisk looked up, trying to blink back the tears.  “I...I asked him for a date.  He didn’t have to agree.  Even if he thought he did, he only, uh, ‘owed’ me one date.  Papyrus, he didn’t have to date me.  You know that, right?  He knows that, right?”

He stared at her, confusion returning.  “Um, no?  You never said that the debt was paid.  Or that’s what he told me last night, when I asked him why he could not relax and take a break from the exhausting dating.”

“I...didn’t realize he needed me to say it.  He never mentioned anything.”  She made a mental note to text Sans later.  This had to all be a big misunderstanding.  They’d explain things to Papyrus, explain that they really were fine together and that Frisk wasn’t demanding a relationship from Sans in some weird and creepy bet gone horribly wrong.

“Nyehehe!  That’s my brother for you!  He constantly keeps things to himself.  But now that you know, you will tell him that his debt is paid, right?  You’ll let him sleep and won’t make him go out to the greasy non-Grillby’s burger place, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll let him…”

Sans wasn’t sleeping.  He was at the top of the staircase, staring down at the scene below him with wide, dark eye sockets.  As soon as Frisk glanced up, he stumbled back half a step and raised a hand in a gesture that made her gut clench.

A gesture of fear.  A gesture of self-defense.

He was...afraid of her.

She glanced away quickly.  “Thanks, Papyrus, for clearing that up.  I’ll be going now.”

“What?  Wait!  Human Frisk-”

She heard the door slam shut behind her but couldn’t recall if she’d pulled it shut herself or if it had been closed by some other means.  She was moving a bit faster than she intended; instead of planting her feet firmly on the steps at the end of the brothers’ front porch, she barely clipped them with one heel.  The change in momentum sent her sprawling on the front walk, cement digging harshly into both palms and one of her knees.

She pushed herself up roughly and staggered to her car.  Car door open, car door closed, lock engaged.  Deep breaths.  Too quick; slow down.  Deep, deep breaths.

Eventually she calmed down enough to drive.  Neither brother, thankfully, had followed her outside.  She pulled out quickly, seeing that she had a clear road behind her, and made her way back home.

It wasn’t until she was inside her own home with the door locked that she noticed the blood.  The scrapes on her palms weren’t deep but they were messy.  She hissed as she ran cool water over them, rubbing them gently in an attempt to clear out any debris.  There didn’t seem to be much; Papyrus kept his front walk very clear.  She glanced down. Her skirt was fine, but her leggings were torn over one knee.  The damage to her knee didn’t look as bad as her hands but she must have caught part of the gravel along the edge of the walk.  There were a few tiny stones embedded in the skin that stung horribly when she removed them.

The pain was a good distraction from her situation, but it didn’t last nearly long enough.  Eventually it ebbed to a dull ache, leaving her mind frustratingly clear.

Sans...had dated her because of some imagined gambling debt?

Part of her was furious.  There was literally nothing stopping him from explaining himself.  If he didn’t want to fulfill what he saw as his end of their ‘bargain,’ well, he just had to say something, right?  It wasn’t like that would have been unusual.  He and Frisk played poker all the time, and Sans (the cheater!) frequently demanded that she do something embarrassing as a forfeit when she lost. If she complained, he always offered her an alternative.  He never said that Frisk’s debt was paid.

Her mind stuttered at the thought.  Did...did Sans still think that she owed him?  Was he angry about his ‘forced’ dates?  Was he going to try to get revenge, now that she...that she…

Trying not to think, she eased her phone out of her purse.  No texts from Sans or Papyrus.  She couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed.  With shaking fingers, she tapped out a message to Sans.

You 7:18 PM The debt is paid.

It sounded...cold.  Impersonal.  What would Sans think?

She nearly dropped her phone when it buzzed a few seconds later.

Sans <3 7:19 PM k

...What?  Was that it?  Almost two months of dating, and he didn’t even have the guts to explain himself?

Of course he didn’t.  Skeletons don’t have guts.  

It wasn’t as funny when it didn’t come from Sans.

Well...fine, then.  Frisk didn’t need him.  She had freed all of monster-kind from a few hundred years of slavery with nothing but DETERMINATION and a pointy stick.  She was fine on her own.

Her phone buzzed again.  She was almost afraid to look, but hope bubbled up nonetheless.

Mom 7:20 PM My child?  I heard that you and Sans are experiencing a break-up. Are you quite alright?  Do you need a pie or a shoulder to cry on?

Well, THAT was fast.  How had…?

Oh.  Right.  Frisk opened her UnderNet app.  She’d turned the notifications off...gosh, probably almost a year ago, back when Alphys discovered Mew Mew Kissy Cutie was getting another sequel.  She usually used her computer to access the site; she had too many friends for a small screen.

A moment’s scrolling revealed a several strings of posts she’d missed over the past few hours since she left the Embassy.  The most recent was related to a single status update from...Papyrus.

CoolSkeleton95: Great news!  My brother is no longer dating the human!  

Yes, this was going to be painful.

ALPHYS: Papyrus, lol, that’s rude

CoolSkeleton95: No it’s not!  My brother is now free of his bad decisions and can live unburdened by debt!

StrongFish91: Papyrus, stop!  The humans can read what you post!

ALPHYS: OH NO THE HUMANS CAN READ ALL THE POSTS I MADE PRAISING THE NEW MEW MEW SPINOFF BEFORE I REALIZED IT WAS GOING TO BE DIRECTED BY SOMEONE WITH NO RESPECT FOR THE STORYLINE

ALPHYS: I AM COMPLETE TRASH

ALPHYS: FRISK IF YOU’RE READING THIS I DIDN’T MEAN IT

ALPHYS: I DIDN’T MEAN ANY OF IT

CoolSkeleton95: I meant all of it!

StrongFish91: PAPYRUS, STOP!!!

CoolSkeleton95: Why?  Human Frisk already knows the error of her ways!  We just had a decisive talk at my house when she was trying to lure my brother off to another ‘date.’

CoolSkeleton95: I’m not sure why you think I have no tact?  I am merely looking out for all my friends.

StrongFish91: THAT WAS A PRIVATE MESSAGE YOU PUNK, REPLY IN THE PRIVATE MESSAGE WINDOW!!!

StrongFish91: DON’T REPLY AS A RESPONSE TO YOUR OWN STATUS UPDATE!!!

The message chain had ended barely a few minutes before.

Well, there went her personal life.  She felt her cheeks burn, and brushed away a few angry tears that leaked out.  Papyrus really didn’t have a sense of tact; his status update was public.  Every monster in the Underground probably knew by now what a horrible person their ambassador was.  Worse, she knew that the human media had infiltrated the UnderNet over the past few years; this was going to be all over the news.

This didn’t just affect Frisk herself.  She’d deliberately tried to keep her budding relationship with Sans under wraps for a reason. It was easy, at first, when they were just dating (could she even consider them dates, now??) casually and no one really knew where to draw the line between ‘dating’ and ‘two friends hanging out.’  Once Alphys took a picture of them together with exclamations and emojis conveying how cute she thought ‘the new couple’ was together, it had made international news.  Sans hadn’t talked to her for nearly a week, completely thrown by the sudden attention.  He’d be dragged through that again, now.

On a larger scale, there were politicians just waiting for a sign of weakness in the Monster Kingdom.  It wasn’t that any of them hated monsters in particular; it was just politics as usual.  As a sovereign nation, the Kingdom of Monsters had been thrust into the rocky and explosive landscape of human governments with all the tentative alliances and subtle hostilities that implied.  Frisk had gotten some very pointed comments from friends and foes alike in the political arena when her relationship went public.  She didn’t want to imagine what her email and voicemail looked like now.

Her phone vibrated again.

Mom 7:30 PM My child, are you alright?  Are you engaging in mourning activities?  I can leave you be if you want.

The offer was tempting.

You 7:32 PM Thanks, but I think we need to meet up to discuss the fallout.  I don’t want the Kingdom of Monsters to suffer for my mistakes.

Mom 7:34 PM You do not mean that, my child.  I shall be over within the hour with fresh pie.  I was already baking when I got the message.

Translation: Frisk’s mom and dad had been planning their own date night, and this news had ruined their plans.  Their own fledgeling attempts to repair their relationship were being put on hold to fix their daughter’s mistakes.

Again.

You 7:35 PM You really don’t have to, Mom.  I’ll be fine.

Mom 7:37 PM I insist!  I shall see you soon.

Guilt flooded her.  She wanted...well, she wanted to text Sans, she realized.  He had been so supportive and kind to her over the past few months.  They’d been friends for years, ever since the Underground, but they’d become even closer while dating.  That...couldn’t all be a lie, right?  There had to be some basis for his actions that was actually grounded in genuine affection, or none of this made sense.

But then...why had he looked so frightened back at his house?  Even if it was some kind of impulse reaction, even if he’d been reacting to something other than Frisk’s realization that their relationship was based on a lie, why had he not cared enough to explain himself?  Or to try to reschedule their evening out?  Or to see if Frisk was alright?

Sans always knew when Frisk was upset.  It was uncanny.

Atlas (”Attie”) is the daughter of Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr, the Princess of Monsters and their primary diplomat.  Not much is known about her except for her age (seven years old, roughly corresponding to the time monsters began to leave the Underground).  Ambassador Dreemurr has declined to reveal who the father of her child is.

Pictures obtained of her show a girl notably shorter than average, with long brown hair and green eyes.  Because of her close resemblance to her mother no one has been able to prove paternity, though rumors and claims abound.

Speculation that Attie is half monster have been met with resounding denials from Ambassador Dreemurr, who insists that her child is fully human.  To date, there has been no reason to doubt this claim.

Attie is known to be under Ambassador Dreemurr’s protection from a magical standpoint, and does not leave home without heavy magical protections.  There are rumors that she was seen outside without those protections shortly before her mother was admitted to the hospital (as reported in the Ebott Morning Sentinel, October 28 and picked up by various news outlets) but this has not been independently confirmed.

She is known to be a precocious child, willing to attack others in self-defense and defense of others.  (See embassy security footage, 091821461031.)  She has been observed attacking other children if they upset her, though it is believed that this is in response to a perceived threat of bullying or physical harm.  No serious injuries have been reported in connection to such instances.

She is known to be home educated, primarily by Ambassador Dreemurr, Queen Toriel Dreemurr, and Captain Undyne.  No official school records exist; it is likely that they are kept by the Kingdom of Monsters instead of the Ebott Board of Education.  There has been no official statement of Attie’s intelligence or level of education, aside from a brief comment in a press briefing that revealed she was starting her education.

It is speculated that she has obtained no EXP or LV at this time.

Sans scrubbed at his bowl, giving a little grin when the cheese sauce came off without too much fuss.  That had been his mistake the first time they made mac ‘n cheese: he’d left the dishes for later, and had wound up getting in trouble with Boss when the sauce took too long to scrub off.

As long as he didn’t think about how much work he was doing it wasn’t too bad, really.  Attie usually followed him around everywhere and insisted on helping, so he didn’t have to do everything himself, either.

“Dry,” he said, handing the bowl off to his helper.  She took it from him, tongue between her teeth, and carefully rubbed a dry dish towel over it.

“Done!” she declared, placing it with over-exaggerated care on top of a small stack of other dishes.  “Can I wash the silverware?”

“Sure,” he said.  He peeled off his rubber gloves (he’d found out the hard way that food, water, and bones don’t mix well) and handed them over.  Attie swapped her towel for the gloves and carefully put them on, stretching her tiny fingers as far as she could into them.

The gloves went up to her elbows and were far too big for her hands, but there wasn’t much she could do to hurt the silverware.  She awkwardly fished a pair of spoons out of the dishwater, rubbed a dishcloth over them until the cheese sauce was gone, and tried to hand them to Sans.

“Rinse ‘em off,” he reminded her.

“Oh!  Right!”  She turned on the water and rinsed them off before handing them back to him for drying.

The little girl bounced impatiently on her toes, splattering tiny droplets of soap water across the kitchen, as Sans put the dry dishes away.  He looked at her for a long moment, tilting his head from one side to the other and tapping his jawbone.

“Ooookay.  I guess we’re done.”

“YAY!!!” The gloves flew off and landed on the floor halfway across the kitchen.  He retrieved them and tossed them back into the sink, listening for the telltale pitter-patter of feet that announced Attie’s presence.

She slid precariously into the dining room and scrambled onto the chair she’d claimed as hers, phone clutched in both hands.  “I can call Mommy now, right?”

“Sure.  But only for a few minutes; you’ve got more homework to do.”

“But it’s Friiiiiday!”

“Yeah, ‘n that means it’s the last day of school for the week.  But remember what Undie said: if you don’t finish on Friiiiiday, you have to do schoolwork on Saaaaaturday.”

Attie groaned in a way Sans knew wasn’t truly serious and dialled.  Her little feet kicked back and forth as she waited.

Her entire body crumpled after a moment, and Sans felt his own mood sink as well.  “She’s not picking up,” Attie said.

“She’s probably asleep again.  She needs lots of rest, remember?”

“Yeah.  But she was awake and talking to me earlier!”

“She sure was, but she might be tired again.  Remember when you woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago?  You went back to sleep after, right?”

“Yeah, but that was the middle of the night .  It’s the middle of the day right now.  Why is Mommy sleeping so much in the middle of the day?”

“You tell me.”

She sighed.  “Because she’s still sick after what the assassin lady did and she needs to sleep so she can heal up all nice and healthy.  That’s what you told me.  I still think she would heal faster if she was awake, though.”

“Do ya, now.”

“Yes.  Also, then I could go see her.”

“Well, let’s finish up the last bit o’ this schoolwork.  I’ll text her like always so she doesn’t worry; I’m sure she’ll text or call or somethin’ when she wakes up.  Okay?”

“Okaaaaay.”

The rest of the school day dragged by for Sans.  It wasn’t so much that the schoolwork was boring (at least, not any more than usual), but that Attie seemed to be entirely unable to focus.  Sans could empathize.  It seemed like a small eternity before she dragged out her paper and pencils and began to half-heartedly scribble some kind of picture for her art project.

Then Sans’s phone vibrated.

“Is it Mommy?”  Attie asked, nearly tripping over her chair in her mad dash for Sans’s seat at the table.

“Woah - hang on there, kid!  Gimme a sec.”  They both stared intently at the phone as the messaging app loaded.  Sure enough, the screen read:

Frisky Dreamer 4:45 PM Sorry I fell asleep.  Didn’t realize I was so tired.

The noise Attie made had his skull ringing.  “Okay, okay, settle down, alright?”

“MY MOMMY’S AWAKE!!!”

“Yeah.  Now do you wanna text her back or should I?”

“We both can!”

Sans sighed.

You 4:49 PM No problem I know the feeling

Frisky Dreamer 4:51 PM Is Attie there?  Is she okay? Oh.  Never mind.  She just texted me.

“Mommy wants to know if we’re both okay!”  Attie said.  “Can I take a picture of you?”

Sans hesitated.  He was absolutely certain that Frisk didn’t want anything to do with him.  “Uh, why don’t I just take a picture of you and send it to her?”

The kid rolled her eyes.  “Because she asked about both of us.  That means we have to send a picture of both of us.”

“Well, you’re outta luck; my phone doesn’t have one of those little cameras on the front.”

“That’s okay!  Mine does!”  She began scrambling up onto Sans’s chair, hampered by the fact that she couldn’t do much to move the skeleton currently sitting in it.

With a low grumble, Sans scooted away from the table far enough to lift Attie into his lap.  “There ya go.  Oh, wait a sec.”  The kid’s pigtails were looking a little lopsided.  He took the hair ties out and carefully re-gathered her hair, making sure not to pull to hard or get the fine strands caught in his phalanges.  “There.  Now you’re extra cute.  Happy?”

“Not yet; I still need to take the picture.  Smile and say ‘cheese!’”

“‘M always smiling, kid.”

She laughed.  “I mean a real smile.”

“You think you can tell the difference?”

“I know I can.  So smile really big like you’re happy, okay?”

He let his mouth fall into his default wide grin as the flash went off.  Attie hummed and examined the picture, frowning.

“That’s not a real smile, Mr. Sans.  We have to try again.”

She did try again.  Several times, in fact.  Finally, she came up with a picture that she declared “okay, but not great” and scooted off his lap to send it to her mother.

Sans caught a glimpse of it and felt his face growing a little red.  He really wasn’t photogenic, being a literal skeleton and all.  He wasn’t even sure what was going on with his mouth in that picture; it looked like he was scowling as much as smiling.

Frisky Dreamer 5:00 PM Not a fan of the camera?

You 5:00 PM SO Can we come visit today or r u 2 tired?

Frisky Dreamer 5:02 PM You can come.  Might want to check with the guards, though. Oh, and why do you use textspeak only half the time?  I know you can text in full sentences.

You 5:07 2 much werk Work

Frisky Dreamer 5:09 PM ...Right. By the way, can I ask a favor?

You 5:11 PM Whats it worth 2 u?

Frisky Dreamer 5:12 PM Add it to my tab. Can you bring some food in? Probably need to sneak it in; the docs don’t like outside food.

You 5:15 PM Uh sure Whaddaya want?

Frisky Dreamer 5:17 PM Something not too rich or smelly.  I’d go for plain bread at this rate.

You 5:19 PM I’ll see what i can do

He looked through the cupboards.  Undyne and Boss had gone on a competitive shopping trip a few days ago so there were groceries, but once again it was an eclectic mix of gourmet noodles and random ingredients he was pretty sure they had selected for the packaging more than the contents.  With a grin on his face, he grabbed a few things from the cupboard and a leftover container from the fridge, then stuck them in his inventory.

“Hey, kid, wanna head out?”

There was a pause, then Attie looked up from her phone. “What?”

“Wanna go see your mom?”

“YES!”  She dashed off to get ready.

A few minutes later they appeared outside Ebott Medical Pavilion, hand in hand.  Attie had adapted well to teleporting over the past week; she barely seemed to notice it anymore.

“You remember the way to your mom’s room?”

She thought for a moment.  “I think so?”

“Go ahead and take us there.”

“But what if I get lost?”

“I’ll be right here; I can ‘port us back outside if we get really stuck.  Okay?”

“...Okay.”

She did pretty well, all things considered.  She went down the wrong hallway after leaving the elevator (it was confusing; the hallways really did all look the same) but she was resourceful enough to correct herself after realizing that the room numbers were wrong.  Finally, they arrived at the new and improved security checkpoint outside Frisk’s room.

“I did it!” she said, bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah.  Great job.”

“Can I give your ID to Mr. Lesser Dog?”

Sans eyed the aforementioned canine, who was wagging his tail hard enough to knock them both over.  “Uh, sure.  Just watch for the-”

Thump.

“...You okay there?”

Attie picked herself back up and dusted off the knees of her jeans.  “I’m fine!”

Lesser Dog whined and leaned over, realizing that he’d hurt one of the few humans he liked.  Attie smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to give him a brief and gentle scratch behind the ears.

Beside him, Doggo shifted in what looked like a nicotine deprivation dance, but Sans knew better.

“Can I pet you too, Mr. Doggo?” the kid asked.

He thought it over for a moment, then leaned over with a long sigh.  Attie giggled.  Sans knew that Doggo wanted to be pet just as much as Lesser Dog did, he just would rather give up dog treats for life than admit it.

Literally.  The question had, actually, come up once or twice.

*Bone friend and little pup good boys,* Lesser Dog woofed, handing Sans back his ID.  *Can go in to see sick momma puppy.*

“Thanks, LD,” Sans said, giving the dog a scratch under his chin.  He snorted when the dog’s neck extended a little.  “You keep a good watch, yeah?”

*Lesser Dog and packmate Doggo will watch very good!  Dogs are good boys!  Won’t let anyone smelly past!  More pets?*

“Maybe on the way out, pal,” he said, steering a giggling Attie into the hospital room.  He didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time they’d seen Lesser Dog on duty; it had taken hours to get his neck back to a reasonable length, and he’d been growling and snapping at everyone in sight the whole time.

Frisk, thankfully, was still awake.  “Made it past the attack dogs?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yyyup!”  Attie said, bouncing on her toes.

“C’mere, you.”

Attie ran at her mother, skidding to a stop just short of the hospital bed before gingerly crawling onto it to give her a hug.  “I missed you,” she mumbled into Frisk's shoulder.

“I missed you too, baby boo.”

They sat like that for a moment, and Sans shifted awkwardly.  He felt like he was intruding.

There was a funny rumbling noise, and Frisk’s face started to turn pink.  Sans grinned; after living with a little human shadow for a week and a half, he knew that sound.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Maybe.  A little.”

Sans dug into his inventory and, with an elaborate flourish, pulled out a plastic fork and…

“...Tuna?”  Frisk’s voice was almost a full octave higher than normal.  She looked a little sick.  “I ask for something bland and low-profile, and you bring me...a can of tuna.”

“I cod not pass up the opportunaty."

Attie wiggled off the bed and stomped over to her babysitter.  “Mr. Sans, stop being silly with my mommy!”

“Heh.  Sorry, kid.”  He patted her right between her pigtails, then put the can back in his inventory.  After a moment of poking around, he withdrew the leftover container.  “Wanna show your mom what you made?”

“Yes!”  She grabbed the container and the fork he offered her and presented them both to her mother.  “We made macncheese, like I told you.  I think this is our best one yet!  We had to go to the store last night for extra cheese because Mr. Boss doesn’t like to buy cheese, so it’s suuuper fresh!”

“The only bread we had in the house was hot dog buns,” he explained, shrugging.

Frisk gave him a long look, carefully opened the container, and grinned.  “It looks great, Attie.  Thank you so much!”

“You’re so welcome!  Mr. Sans helped, too.  You should say ‘thank you so much’ to him, too.”

Sans opened his mouth to say that it really wasn’t necessary, but-

“Thank you so much, Sans.”

“Heh.  It’s nothin’.”

“I mean it.  Thank you, Sans.  Thank you for everything.  Including, of course, the mac and cheese.”

His eye sockets met hers, and he felt a jolt of...something.  Surprise, definitely.  Frisk...she hated him, right?  Heck, he deserved it!  But..she looked really, genuinely grateful.  When was the last time someone (besides Attie) had thanked him?  “I...uh, you’re welcome.”

They both looked away at the same time.

“Mommy?”  Attie piped up.  “Why is your face all pink like you’re embarrassed?”

“Um…”

“Oh!  Do you wanna kiss Mr. Sans?”

“ATLAS HOPE DREEMURR!”

Sans pulled the hood of his jacket up, knowing full well it wasn’t nearly as effective as he hoped.  This kid…

“Is that a ‘no?’  Undie says the blushing thing means you’re embarrassed or you want to kiss someone.”

Frisk gave a noise that sounded like a growl and took a few quick bites of the mac ‘n cheese.  “This is really great,” she said, a touch too loudly.  “You’ve gotten really good at this, Attie.”

The kid gave a devious little smile.  “Thanks,” she said, patting her mother’s hand.  “It’s okay.  You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

Sans coughed.  “Attie, listen to yer mom.”

“But she didn’t tell me to do anything!”

“Didn’t you ask me not to tease ‘er?  She’s still sick.  Stop bein’ so…” he waved a hand in the general direction of the woman he was not looking at.  “...silly.”

Attie sighed.  “Okay.  Sorry, Mommy, for embarrassing you.  Sorry to you also, Mr. Sans.”

“‘Tsokay.”

“You’re forgiven.”  Frisk dug into the mac ‘n cheese with the air of someone desperately hungry, but wanting to make her food last.

“We can make more,” Attie said, watching her mother closely.  “I didn’t know your tummy was so empty or we could have made some more before we left.  Right, Mr. Sans?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“But we didn’t know.  Mr. Sans said they would probably give you some sugar ‘n stuff through the bag thingies, and that you would get enough water that way, but I don’t think that counts as eating for real.”

Frisk hummed.  “I agree.  This is much more pleasant.”

Sans coughed into his hand.  “So why’d you want us to bring ya food?  Don’t they feed you here?”

“Well...yes.  It’s just...hmm.”  She took a few more bites, eyes narrowed in thought.  “Do you know my doctor?  Dr. Ray?”

“Yeah...I’ve met ‘im.”

“What’s your opinion?”

He looked at her, not sure where this was going.  Why was she being so...friendly?  Was this a trap?  Frisk could switch from friendly to aggressive very quickly when she wanted to.  “I.  Uh.  He’s a doctor?”

“Your honest opinion.  I think...well, I want to hear what you think of him.”

He sighed.  “I think the guy’s an asshole.  He doesn’t think much’ve other folks; doesn’t seem like it’s aimed at monsters particularly, though.  He just doesn’t like people he thinks are...hmm.  Lesser than him?  ‘M not sure how he decides that - education level, maybe? - but if you don’t fit his criteria, he thinks you’re basically worthless.

“He might not be aware of it.  He certainly thinks he’s right all - or at least most - of the time, and being aware of such a huge character flaw would puncture his ego.  He probably just thinks that he knows better than other people, and they should listen to him because he’s a doctor.  He seems alright at his job for all that; it’s probably a point of pride to do well.”

Frisk nodded.  “Do you think he’s a liar?  What reason would someone like him have to lie?”

“Depends on the lie.”  He studied her face.  She looked...wary.  What did all this have to do with food?  Had someone threatened her?  At least she could defend herself, probably better than he could...now that she was conscious, anyways.  “He might lie to protect himself or his job.  If he made a mistake, he might want to cover it up.  Doesn’t strike me as the type to lie for someone else, though, unless it suited his purposes or helped him somehow.”

“So you don’t think he’s malicious.”

“Not unless you’re a threat to him.  What he’d do if he thought you were tryin’ to hurt his reputation or upstage him…’m not sure.  But in general?  Like I said, guy’s an asshole.  ‘Course, I haven’t had any huge soul-searching conversations with the guy.  Could be completely wrong ‘bout him.”

“I don’t think so.”  She laid her fork into the empty container firmly.  “Sans, I haven’t given you enough credit.  You really are a lot more observant than you think.  I appreciate your input on this.”

He shuffled his feet a little.  It wasn’t...it was just how he was, how he’d survived so long on his own with a little brother to look after, not anything special.  “Tch…’ts nothin’.  What’s all this about?  And what’s it got to do with food?”

“Dr. Ray was acting strangely when I first woke up this afternoon.  I pressed the call button and he walked in instead of one of the nurses.  He told me that I’d been unconscious due to an accidental overdose.  He followed that up by being weirdly insistent that I eat, and...call me paranoid, but I didn’t trust him not to ‘accidentally’ add something extra to my food.”

His grip on his magic slid a little, and he felt his eye burn.  An accident?  Attie had been separated from her mother, unsure of whether she’d live or die...and the doctor was calling it an accident??

He couldn’t believe it.  And from the look on Frisk’s face, she didn’t believe it either.

“Calm down,” she said.  “There’s nothing we can do now.  He said that the matter was being handled, and that it wouldn’t happen again.  Of course, then he tried to take my phone.”

“What?  Why would he do that?”

“Consider this.  If you’re right, and he was trying to protect himself - his reputation, his job, whatever - he wouldn’t want me communicating with people who knew the truth, at least until he could run damage control.  Make sure he got his story straight. I assume someone does know the truth?”

“Uh, yeah.  Attie ‘n I were just leavin’ when you were...attacked.”

“Wait, so I was attacked?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No!”

Attie gave a wet sniffle.  “It was really scary.  There was an assassin lady and somehow she got past the dogs, but she was wearing the nurse clothes.  Sponges?”

“Scrubs,” he corrected.

“Right.  She was wearing the nurse scrubs, but she was on your bed and you were trying to get her off of you and she put some kind of poison medicine into your bags.  Then she started fighting Mr. Sans even though you told him not to fight her, but I think that’s okay because he didn’t let me get hurt.  Not even a little bit!”

Frisk looked at her daughter for a long moment, gripping her arms like she wasn’t sure the kid was really in one piece.  Then she looked over at Sans.  “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

He did.  He explained how he’d tried to contact Frisk on the day of the incident, but how she’d been unresponsive most of the day and asleep when they’d arrived.  He told her how they’d been kicked out of the room by the nurse.  He considered telling her that the nurse had made him uneasy, but...he didn’t want to make it sound like he was some kind of hero.

Instead, he played up Attie’s concerns: how she’d been worried, and had insisted they go back to the room.  The actual fight he described as factually as he could: the order of events, what he knew of the nurse’s movements, and the arrival of the dogs.

Frisk nodded along, looking a little overwhelmed.  “I...don’t remember any of that,” she said, finally.  “I remembered weird flashes of emotion, but nothing detailed or reliable.  I mostly just recall...burning?”  She rubbed her arm above where the needles were taped to her arm.

“I believe it.  Alphys ‘n some of the human doctors are still tryin’ to figure out everything that was in that bag the nurse hooked you up to.  They think she may’ve dosed you with something over time as well, but gotten impatient when it didn’t work as fast as she wanted.”

“She was a nurse, then.”

“Yeah.  ‘M kinda out of the loop, but I did a little digging on my own.  She was employed by the hospital as of three weeks ago, at least.”

“How do you know?”

“The local paper ran a story about the hospital and she was one of the nurses interviewed.  Gave her name as Graciela Lira, though I heard rumors that might not be her real name.  ‘Ts hard to tell; she apparently was a foster kid at some point, so her paper trail’s a bit hard to follow.  No one expected her to go after you, though.”

“Interesting.  Let me guess: she’s a monster specialist.”

“Worse.  Monster pediatric specialist.”

Frisk gripped Attie a little tighter.  “And...they still let her practice here?”

“Well, not right now.  Attie ‘n I saw the whole thing, as did Alphys’s security cameras; whatever the hospital told Undyne, she pushed back hard with evidence.  She’s got the nurse - whatever her name is - in custody.”

“Good.  I wouldn’t want someone like that around children.”

This was definitely outside Sans’s comfort zone.  It was almost like they were allies or something.  Granted, Frisk was probably still high on painkillers, but she wasn’t being nearly as aggressive as she usually was, even after his little joke earlier with the can of tuna.

Was this how Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr treated people she could actually stand to be around?  If so, he wanted to-

-DEFINITELY not do anything, especially after Attie’s stupid comments earlier.

He coughed.  “Well, hopefully you, uh, don’t go through that again.  The Guard’ll hold her until you feel better so you can interrogate her yourself.”

“...The human government is just letting this happen?”

“Yeah, not sure why.  My guess is they want something from us; your mom’s been in meetings all day, every day.”

It was traditional among monsters for the victim of an attack (or, in the case of a child, the victim’s guardian) to be the chief interrogator when bringing the attacker to justice.  The human government tended to frown on the practice, what with the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ thing they believed in, but they had been strangely accommodating in this case.  Either there was something about this lady that would’ve been dragged to light in a human court system or they were using her as a bargaining chip to get what they wanted out of Tori.  The Queen of Monsters was notoriously vindictive towards anyone who harmed her family, to the point where it clouded her judgement.

“...Sans?”

“Hmm?  Sorry.  Just...thinkin’.”

“Anything important?”

It still sat oddly with him that Frisk - of all people - was asking for his input.  “Just...theories.  Can’t prove anything.  It just...nothing about this seems right.  The timing of the attack, the way it was planned, the person who carried it out...and now what that doctor told you; it doesn’t add up.”

“If it was planned, it was done quickly.  Very quickly.  Either that, or…well.”

Or she didn’t really have appendicitis.  It was unlikely, from what he read, but still.  Either situation was worrying. Was it easier to induce a medical condition or to organize an assassination attempt in a matter of days?

“Are you done with grown-up talk?”  Attie asked, wiggling impatiently on the bed.

Frisk laughed.  “For now.  Sorry.”

“Can I show you my pictures?  I made you a whole lot while you were sleeping.”

“Sure!  Show me what you’ve got.”

It took almost a full hour for Attie to go through all the pictures she’d made.  Most of them, to Sans’s eternal embarrassment, featured him in some way.  And of course, each one had a story.

“This is Mr. Sans when he accidentally put his shirt on inside out and backwards because he was so sleepy.  You can see the tag on the front.  Oh!  And this is when we went to the park with Undie, and Mr. Sans tried to swing and fell off.  That’s why he’s on the ground.  I thought he was hurt, but he wasn’t.  This one is Mr. Sans and I drinking our juice after training.  It tastes reeeeeally bad…”

And so on.

“All of them look wonderful,” Frisk said after Attie had arranged the pictures back into a stack.  “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Me too.  I was worried I’d miss you a lot, and I did, but it was also fun doing schoolwork with Mr. Sans.  He knows a lot ‘bout science!  Do you think he can help me with my science sometimes after you’re better?”

Sans tensed.  As busy as he’d been, he’d almost forgotten that Attie wasn’t going to be in his life forever.  Frisk was going to heal, then she’d take her daughter home.  And he’d probably never see either of them again outside official functions.  After all, he’d seen Attie only two or three times in seven years, not including the time she’d been living with him.

All Frisk said was, “We’ll see.”

Which, in his experience, pretty much meant “no.”

It didn’t matter, he told himself as Attie chattered on about something.  He hadn’t even wanted to watch the kid in the first place.  He’d be glad when she was gone.

Well, he amended, not glad.  A week ago he would’ve been happy to see her go; but after so many nights of worry and nightmares, and so many days of tutoring and kitchen accidents, he’d maybe gotten a little...attached.

That really wasn’t good, under the circumstances.

A knock on the door interrupted Attie’s story of something Undyne had done the other morning.  He knew the routine well enough to know who it was.  “Time to go,” he said, collecting the empty container from dinner.  “Say good-bye to your mom.”

Attie sighed.  “Good-bye, Mommy.”

“Good-bye, Attie,” her mother responded.  “I’ll miss you.”

“I know.  But I’ll be back tomorrow!”

There was a strange look on Frisk’s face when they left; something resigned and a little sad.  She hid it well, but Sans was a master of reading expressions.

Chapter 1: Resolve

Chapter 2: Victory

Frisk dreams of stars.

It comes as a surprise to her; she has lived on the surface her whole life, not counting that one harrowing day in the Underground as a child.  For the past five years she has shared that experience with her monster family.  The stars form a lovely backdrop to her life, but they remain just that; there’s no reason why they should dominate her dreams.

The monsters were all initially intrigued by the stars - so different from the luminescent crystals that decorate the ceiling of the Underground - but the novelty has faded somewhat over the years.  There are exceptions, of course.  Notably, the skeleton brothers hold a stargazing party every month on the roof of the house they built at the base of Mount Ebott.  Attendance dwindled as monsters moved farther away from their old home, but there’s still a loyal contingent that makes the trip.

Frisk finds it harder every month, but she is still DETERMINED to spend time with her best friends. As homework levels and ambassadorial duties increase, she sometimes entertains the idea of skipping...just once.  And yet without fail, every month, she finds herself smooshed into the back of Toriel’s old minivan with Asgore, heading up to the skeleton brothers’ home.

Truthfully, she does enjoy herself.  Papyrus has branched out after discovering that there is more than one cooking show aboveground so his food has gradually become quite good.  The potluck tradition, though, was established long before his food became...well, edible.  Toriel always makes butterscotch-cinnamon pies for memory’s sake, with the occasional snail pie thrown into the mix.  Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, and Grillby all bring their favorite foods, though those tend to change a bit.

The evening always begins with board games, the weirder the better.  Dear, sweet Alphys - ever the nerd - once brought a tabletop RPG.  Papyrus put all his character’s points into Charisma and tried to talk down every enemy in the tutorial scenario, despite Frisk’s hesitant explanations of the combat system.  Asgore, who wound up being the game master, smiled sadly but allowed the interactions.

Papyrus still doesn’t understand why Alphys never brings the “TALKING GAME” back.

After board games interspersed with snacking, everyone heads out onto the roof of the brothers’ home.  It is probably the safest roof in the country: Papyrus built and installed a safety railing around the edge, and there are handrails running across the commonly-traversed areas.  If all else fails, both brothers are capable of catching their guests with magic.

Still, everyone uses the buddy system.  Toriel and Asgore always lumber up first, holding hands and ‘testing for weak spots,’ sticking to the extra-extra-reinforced areas.  Not to be outdone, Undyne tosses Alphys up (usually before the king gives the all-clear), then pole-vaults up using a spear.  Papyrus either gets caught up in the chaos or, when MK stops by, carries the little guy up the ladder.  After all, handrails a little less handy to someone without arms.

Grillby and his niece sit right on the peak of the roof so Fuku can feel special and tall, and the pair usually winds up squished between the enthusiastic former and current members of the Royal Guard.  Frisk and Sans bring up the rear, mostly because Frisk is a little scared of heights and partly because Sans is so lazy (though Sans always takes full blame), and they huddle on the edge of the roof near the ladder.

Then...stargazing.

Mount Ebott is not a lone mountain, but one on the edge of a vast range.  The geography isn’t conducive to large cities.  The brightest source of manmade light to be seen is a distant glow from a city almost three hours’ drive away.  The darkness around them is thick and all-encompassing, like the void.

The stars, though - the stars look like dust and diamonds.  On good nights there are faint echoes of color through the sky, highlighting the constellations like huge underlying waves of magic.  Sans knows what causes this - Frisk is pretty sure he knows all the stars by name, too, even the ones that only have weird strings of letters and numbers as names - but she herself never bothers to remember.  It’s easier to curl into Sans’s inexplicably soft belly and feel it jiggle as he laughs, then listen to his (tired...so very, very tired...) voice as he explains the sky again.

Everyone heads home in twos and threes, depending on their schedules.  Usually Undyne and Alphys head out first; Undyne is an absurdly early riser, and though she can operate on very little sleep she is enthusiastic about keeping herself “in tip-top shape.”  Grillby and Fuku head out next, accompanied by MK when his parents can’t pick him up.

Toriel, Asgore, and Frisk always leave last.  Sometimes Frisk can bargain her way into sharing Papyrus’s bedtime story before leaving, just so she can hear Sans’s voice some more.  It sounds even better when he reads to Papyrus than it does when he talks about stars; it has more energy, more  life.

Plus, he does the funny voices.  Frisk may be in her senior year of high school now, but the funny voices are still  the absolute best and she would gladly brag about them to everyone she knows if it wouldn’t embarrass Sans so much.  (It’s tempting to do so anyways, sometimes.  He’s great, but he knows  exactly  how to get on her nerves.)

“Thanks, folks!  You’ve been a great audience!”

“Yep.”

“We had fun today, didn’t we?”

“We sure did!  Do you know how much fun we had?”

“How much?”

“A skele-ton!”

The audience laughed.  Frisk laughed, too.  She’d been a little nervous, going to see a ventriloquist - she’d heard from the kids at school that ventriloquist dummies are creepy - but the show had been amazing!  The jokes and special effects had been really great, and the dummy had seemed almost...alive.

That was surprising, considering…

Well.

She was unbelievably curious.

“That’s all, folks!”  The ventriloquist stalked off the stage to applause and catcalls, his white hair swaying a little from the force of his retreat.

Frisk sat back in her chair.  Mom and Dad had come to the show because Gramma Jenny (Mom’s mom) had been friends with the ventriloquist way back in college.  He’d been known as “Jerry” back then instead of “Gerald the Voice.”  They had kept in touch - not really close friends anymore, but just normal people who were friendly and wrote letters to each other - and Gramma Jenny had wanted to see him again.

Then she’d fallen on a patch of ice and hurt her hip, and going to the show was out of the question.  Mom and Dad had decided to take Frisk instead, which Frisk found disappointing.  She was going to miss Terra’s sleepover!

It hadn’t been nearly as boring - or as scary - as she’d thought it would be.  It was almost - almost - worth missing a sleepover.  Still, Frisk had a hankering for an adventure.  She felt she deserved one, after the grown-ups made plans without her.

Mom and Dad were taking their time leaving the theater.  It was easy - almost too easy - to slip away from them where they sat, chatting with the people in the row behind them.  Mom and Dad knew lots of people; even a trip to the grocery store with them could be agonizingly long for Frisk.

She wondered how long it would take for them to notice that she was missing this time.

The backstage access in the old theater was easy to find.  It was a plain wooden door across from the concession stand marked “BACKSTAGE” in blocky painted letters.  It looked like someone had written a dirty joke underneath it; the words were just visible enough through the sloppy cover-up paint job to make Frisk blush.

The knob turned easily, much to her surprise.  She took a good look around her - grown-ups usually overlooked her, though some of them had a knack for sensing trouble - but it looked like no one was around.  The concession stand was closed and most of the people were congregated by the exits and the women’s restrooms.

Cracking the door open, Frisk caught a glimpse of a long, dark hallway.  She didn’t really know what to expect from backstage, having been in exactly two plays in her life (both of which were held in her school cafeteria), but she’d expected something...brighter.  She opened it a little wider and noticed light pooling out from under several doorways further down.

With one last glance, just in case a nosy grown-up had decided to look her way, Frisk slipped inside.

The hallway seemed brighter when it wasn’t competing against the harsh fluorescent lights of the theater lobby.  A bare bulb hung, unlit, in the center of the hallway, but the light from under the doors was enough for Frisk to see.  The hallway was narrow and felt a little like it was closing in on her, but someone had still found room to hang black-and-white pictures of old people on the walls.

A brief noise from down the hallway caught Frisk’s attention, and she remembered her mission.  She wanted - no, needed - to see that dummy!

One of the doors creaked a little and Frisk froze.  She counted - one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi - but nothing else happened.  Carefully, listening so hard her ears felt almost stretched, she crept closer.

The room inside looked like a storage room.  Stacks of boxes lined the walls in a haphazard fashion, topped with props and decorations.  There was what looked like a changing area set up against the far wall with a mirror propped up on a desk, several racks of costumes, and a large black trunk.  From what she could see in the thin crack between the door and the doorframe, there was no movement and no sound.  She waited several moments; when no one yanked the door open and demanded to know who she was and why she was creeping around, she put one hand on the door -

One of the doors further down the hallway rattled, like someone was messing with the knob.  She couldn’t afford to be slow and quiet anymore!  She threw herself into the room and closed the door almost all the way, then glanced around frantically for a hiding space.

There!  A stack of boxes in the corner was topped with a convenient lamp.  It looked just barely big enough to hide Frisk, if she crouched down and was very, very quiet.

She managed to get herself into position just as the door to the room opened.  Her heart jumped again as she caught a glimpse of the ventriloquist, carrying his dummy gently against his chest like a toddler.

“...And I appreciate the shed puns as much as the next man, but please run them by me first, alright?”

“Okay,” said the dummy.  “Tough crowd tonight, huh?”

“Well, yes.  I grew up not too far from here.  There’s an old saying about prophets never being respected in their hometowns.  I think the same applies to comedians.  Folks just think you’re a hometown boy, not a hardworking entertainer.”

“Eh, no biggie.  You filled the house and got a few good laughs; that’s what counts, right?”

Something seemed...off.  Sure, the kids at school told horror stories about ventriloquist dummies being alive, but that wasn’t...real, right?  She shifted, but the ventriloquist had moved too far into the room for her to see him around the boxes.  Great for hiding, but not so great for spying.

And yet…

“Yes,” the ventriloquist was saying, “I am glad we got such a good audience.  I’d heard Jenny was going to be here, but I didn’t see her in the crowd.  I’d like to step into the lobby to see if I can catch her.”

“No way!  Jenny White, from the letters?”

...Why was the ventriloquist dummy speaking?

“The very same!”  There was a shuffle, but Frisk couldn’t see what was moving.  “How do I look, old boy?”

“Tibia honest, I’m sure she’d be happy tie see you, buddy.  Gah - stop, you’re making it worse.  Let me...there we go.  Go out and knock ‘er dead, yeah?”

The ventriloquist left.  Frisk remained very, very still.  She half-expected the dummy to sit up and start talking again, but everything was silent.

Okay.  Okay.  It was fine.  It was just a slightly creepy old man who, for unknown reasons, talked to himself when he was alone in his room.

Right?

Or...had he known that Frisk was there?  Had he been trying to trick her?

She braced herself, feeling a strong swell of something grip the pit of her stomach.  It blotted out her fear and worry and left her feeling...determined.

She stood up abruptly, catching the lamp when it wobbled.  She thought she heard something clattering, but when she looked around nothing was moving.

She stepped around the boxes, tip-toeing just in case.

The dummy sat on the desk, leaned up against the mirror.  It was bigger than Frisk thought it would be.  She wondered how the ventriloquist moved it around so easily, but then again, it  was  a skeleton.  It probably didn’t weigh a lot.

It looked a little...silly, up close.  It didn’t really look like the human skeletons Frisk had seen in science books.  The hands and what she could see of the arms that disappeared into the sleeves of its snazzy tuxedo were thicker and more rounded, looking almost like human hands and arms despite their lack of skin.  They didn’t look at all like the x-ray Frisk had in her closet from when she’d broken her arm in third grade.

The skull was rounded, with actual cheeks and a slightly wrinkled forehead.  Frisk carefully ran a finger along the crease, being extra careful so she didn’t knock the dummy over.  It felt a little squishy, like rubber.  She wondered if the face could be molded into different expressions.  The wide grin was starting to get a little creepy.

The eye sockets were strange.  They were black holes, not at all like what Frisk remembered human eye sockets looking like.  Wasn’t there supposed to be something there?  She thought she remembered something in human eye sockets to hold eyes, which made sense, right?  But...hadn’t there been little white dots in the dummy’s eyes when it had been onstage?  How did the ventriloquist do that?

Tilting her head to the side, she caught a faint glow on one of the eye sockets.  It looked almost like the reflection of light off drying paint, visible without being shiny.  She inched a finger closer.  She wondered if it was squishy, like jelly…

“Yeah, no, kid.”

Frisk screamed and leapt backwards, the motion sending her tripping into a chair.  Unfortunately, she had too much momentum and toppled over the other side of the chair before hitting her shoulder on the floor.

She lay still for a long moment.  What the HECK??  Was the dummy actually alive?  How?  Had she just stuck her hands all over someone’s face??

“I, uh, can still see you.  C’mon out and talk, huh?”

Frisk curled in on herself, willing herself to be small and unnoticeable.  She thought she heard a sigh, but it sounded funny and she couldn’t be sure.

“Uh, you okay there, kid?  If you don’t come over here and talk, I’m gonna call someone.”

Frisk sat up.

“Hey, there you are, kiddo!”  The dummy waved its - his? - hand at her.  “Hey!  So, uh, do you usually try to poke people’s eyes out?  Doesn’t seem like a very nice way to greet a new friend.”

She sat, shakily, onto the traitorous chair.  “Y-you’re alive."  All the strength she’d felt earlier seemed to have drained out of her.  Mostly, she just felt tired.  And a little scared.  Talking skeletons, after all.

The dummy - or whatever he was - turned his head.  Those little white lights had reappeared in the black jelly that filled his eye sockets, making him look at least ten times friendlier.  “I...yeah.  Yeah.  I’m...alive?”  He said it like a statement that was just vague enough to be a question.

“You’re not sure?”

“No, no...I’m alive, really.  I’m just surprised that you came to that conclusion.”

Frisk puzzled the big word over in her head.  “Oh.  I mean...well, you’re talking, aren’t you?  Talking on your own, I mean.  You can move and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, sure.  How d’ya know I’m not a robot or something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You made puns.”

He laughed so hard Frisk was worried he’d fall off his desk or knock over the mirror or something.  “Yeah, yeah I did.  Man, you sound like my brother.”

“You have a brother?”  The thought of two little skeletons punning at each other with a dumbfounded ventriloquist standing awkwardly behind them made her smile.

“Yeah.  Oh, he’s a lot taller than me.  Almost as tall as Jerry, really.  I got the short bones.”

Frisk giggled.  “O-oh, sorry.  I shouldn’t laugh.  Mom says it’s rude to laugh at someone.”

“Hey, no skin off my back.  You’d have to be a dummy not to laugh at my jokes, huh?”  He waved his hands in a jazzy fashion, inviting more laughter.  “But hey, how’d you find your way back here, anyways?  I thought this place was supposed to be empty except for Ol’ Jer and I.”

She looked down and shuffled her feet.  “O-oh.  I, um, I snuck in.  I was…curious.”  It seemed awful to say, knowing that he was a real person and not just a fancy doll.

“Oh?  Why?”

“The dummy - you, I mean - looked too...real.”

There was silence.  Frisk looked up to find the skeleton staring at her.  She couldn’t read his expression.  “I...I’m sorry-”

“No.  N-no, it’s fine.  It’s just…” he laughed, but it didn’t sound very happy, “I guess I’m so used to being a dummy that...I’m not quite used to being a real person, y’know?”

She nodded.  It did sound pretty awful.  “So...I don’t mean to be rude, but what...are you?  I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re not human, but I’m not sure what else you could be?”

The skeleton’s grin widened, and he stuck out a hand.  “Oh!  I’m Sans, Sans the skeleton.  I’m a monster.  Have you ever heard of them?  There aren’t many of us.”

She took Sans’s hand and gave it a hearty shake.  “Nice t’meet you, Mr. Sans the skeleton!  I don’t think I’ve ever met a monster, but I might have heard about them once from Ms. Charelle at school.  She’s the history teacher, and she knows almost everything.”

“Oh?  Almost everything?”

Frisk grinned.  “She doesn’t know about the secret candy stash Blake has been hiding in her bottom desk drawer all year.”

Sans laughed again, for real this time, and Frisk smiled.  She liked making people laugh!  Especially Sans, who had one of those laughs that made her want to laugh too.

“You’re a good kid.  Well, when you’re not breaking and entering, that is.”

“...Oh.  Right.”  She shuffled her feet again.  She could feel her face growing hot.

“Hey, don’t sweat it.  How old are you, kid?”

Frisk mentally counted the days.  “Eleven and nine months and three days.  Almost twelve.”

“Heh.  Yeah.  You’re practically grown up, aren’t you.”  Frisk had heard that before, but Sans said it differently.  He said it sincerely, not like most grown-ups or older kids who said it like they were mocking a little baby.

Which Frisk definitely wasn’t.

“Yeah!  I’m gonna be the best grown-up ever!  I’m gonna stay up late and eat candy before bedtime, and read stories and make people laugh!  I’m not gonna be a stuffy old lady!”  She put her hands on her hips and put on her best serious face.

“Wonderful!  Then you’d fit right in here!”

Frisk froze.  Sans was looking over Frisk’s shoulder.  He wasn’t the one who had spoken.

Slowly, she turned on the chair to peek over the back.  The ventriloquist was standing in the doorway.

“O-oh, um, hi,” she said, “Did you know Sans is alive?”

The ventriloquist laughed.  “I am well aware, little one.  He’s the best joke partner an old man like me could ask for!  And you must be Frisk Walker, hmm?  Your parents are looking for you.”

Dread filled Frisk’s heart, only to dissipate when she heard Sans mutter, “More like Frisk Fall-er.”

She couldn’t help it; she giggled again.

“Sans,” the ventriloquist said, in a tone that was probably supposed to be scolding and fell pretty short.  “Anyways, Frisk, we’d better get you out to your parents, hmm?”

“Okay ,” she said.  She turned and waved.  “G’bye, Sans!  See you later, hopefully!”

“Bye, Frisk,” he said, waving back.

Frisk smiled.  She felt much better -

A hand came down firmly on Frisk’s shoulder, steering her into another room.  She felt a little faint, like she had when she first heard Sans speak.  “U-um...wait, stop-”

They stopped inside the doorway of what appeared to be another, smaller storage room.  The ventriloquist closed the door quietly and stared down at Frisk, looking a lot more serious than he had earlier.  “So, Frisk Walker.  What am I going to do with you, young lady?”

“T-take me back to my parents?”  The question came out much less confident than she’d hoped, more like a plea than a joke.

The ventriloquist huffed anyways.  “Yes, yes, in a moment.  I take it you don’t understand the seriousness of what you did?  No?  Well, I’ll explain it to you.  You look like a bright young woman.

“Monsters came up from the Underground, where they were trapped for centuries, about twelve years ago.  It doesn’t matter how; just know that they were Underground for a long time, then they were set free.

“The problem is that a lot of monsters were very angry with humans.  It had been humans who trapped them down there in the first place, after a big fight between humans and monsters.  No, no questions.  Just listen.

“So monsters weren’t happy with humans.  We humans, as it turned out, didn’t like being attacked by monsters.  Both sides were very convinced that they were right, but in the end, the humans won.  It wasn’t even a big fight.  Do you know what that means?  They don’t really talk much about it in school, I imagine.”

“No,” Frisk said to both questions.

“I thought not.  Well, no one wanted to kill monsters or stick them back Underground.  They might look different, but they’re still people; they didn’t deserve that.  We settled for a...mentorship program, of sorts.  Basically, a human can vouch for a monster.  The human is held responsible for the monster’s actions, and the monster is allowed to live in relative freedom in exchange.

“I was a volunteer at one of the monster refugee camps not too long after the war; I helped out however I could during the day, and did shows for the monsters and the other volunteers in the evenings.  That’s how I met Sans.  He was a comedian back in the Underground, you see.  He made some suggestions, and they were a hit.  Eventually we decided to take our show on the road!  He won’t go anywhere without his brother, so they both came with me.

“It’s not...perfect, of course.  We tried doing a monster-human act in the early days, but there was a lot of bad feelings towards monsters back then.  Too many people had been hurt or killed during the war.  So we moved halfway across the country and tried again, with Sans acting as a ventriloquist dummy.”

“How does that even work?”  Frisk asked, unable to contain herself.

“Haha!  Well, he wears a harness under his suit with a handle on the back that lets me move him up and down.  It’s a bit like the harnesses folks wear to fly across the stage in theater; it redistributes his weight.  Not super comfortable, but it does its job.  The rest he does himself.

“Do you know why I’m telling you all this?”

Frisk shook her head.  She’d been wondering that herself.

“It’s because I need you to keep a secret.  See, no one knows that Sans is a real person.  He doesn’t look like a human skeleton, so most folks just assume.  Every once in a while, though, we’ll get a curious person - like yourself - who gets a little too close.  No one’s ever actually talked with him, though; that’s a bit surprising.  He usually just plays dead until folks get bored.  Not pleasant for him, really.  I try not to leave him alone.  I...got careless today.”

“Oh.  I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t.  Sans is fine - he would’ve called me if he wasn’t - and you’re fine and I’m fine.  And your parents will be fine, as soon as we get you back out to them.”

“I promise I’ll keep your secret, Mr. Ventriloquist.”

“Haha!  Thanks, Miss Frisk.  And ‘Jerry’ is fine.  All my friends call me Jerry.”

Frisk nodded, her face serious, and shook the hand Jerry offered.  “Okay then, Jerry.  I’ll keep your secret.  Well, Sans’s secret, I guess.”

“Thanks.  We both appreciate it.”  Jerry opened the door and waved his hand, letting Frisk exit the room first.

They walked back down the hallway together.  Frisk resisted the urge to turn around and say good-bye to Sans again.

“Don’t worry,” Jerry said as they approached the door back to the lobby.  “You’ll see us again, I’m sure of it.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Sans take such a shine to someone.  I’m sure you two will be great friends.”

“Okay.”  Frisk wasn’t sure if nearly poking someone’s eye out counted as friendship, but she didn’t want to get in trouble.

“And write to us sometime, won’t you?  Your Grandma Jenny has the address.  Just be sure not to show the letters to anyone, okay?”

“Okay!”

They stepped back out into the lobby.  No one was looking at them, though Frisk could see a gathering of people still over by the women’s restroom.

“This way, Miss Frisk.  Your parents were over by the front door, last I looked.”

“Okay!”

Frisk skipped after Jerry, humming to herself a little.  What a day!  She’d missed the slumber party, sure, but she’d wound up with two super-secret friends.

She couldn’t wait to write them a letter!

“So...what was that about, Sans?”

“She’s the one.”

“That was melodramatic, even for you.  You’re not a movie villain.  She’s the one what?"

“Frisk is the one you’ve been looking for, the one who’s going to change the world.  Or, at least, take over your act.”

“What - her?  She’s ten!”

“Eleven, nine months, and three days.  Almost twelve.”

“...I’m not even going to ask how you know that.”

“Probably for the best.  I’m serious, though, Jerry.  I think she’s going to take over for you...in both of your roles.”

“She’s a child.  I’m not even sure she’s interested; and if she is, she’ll need training.  There’s no such thing as a natural.  This - what we do - is a lot of work, more work than most kids want to invest into anything these days.”

“Trust me on this; she’ll do it.  I can tell.  She’s the sort of person who will do anything she sets her mind to.  She’s...determined.”

“Well, fine.  I can see you’ve got your mind set on this.  What do you propose we do about it, though?  She lives here, and we...travel.  A lot.”

“You’re not getting any younger.  Why not take a year off?  Spend some time around here.  Your house is still standing, last I checked.  Paps’ll be happy to be able to clean the old place up and to get out of hotel rooms.  Working for monster personhood can be done here just as easily as on the road; heck, it’ll probably be easier to have a base of operations.

“As for work, wasn’t there that part-time opportunity with the local library system you were eyeing?  You can do that, and maybe pick up that school gig too.  Take Frisk on as an apprentice.  You won’t be free until nearly Summer anyways; she can spare some time then.”

“And if she doesn’t want to?  Dusty old backstage storage rooms are hardly exciting to most young ladies.”

“But secrets are.  Let her spend some time with us - you, me, and Paps - and it should make up for the...less exciting parts of the job.  Well, jobs.”

“...You really are set on this.”

“Yep.”

“Then fine.  We’ll finish out the tour, then…”

“Then we’ll see what skeletons little Miss Frisk has in her closet.”

Sans wedged himself further behind the display of large stuffed bears on Aisle 13.  That had been way too close.

He heard a crackle.  “Come in!  Agent Lazybones, come in!”

Sans fumbled with his walkie-talkie.  “Agent Lazybones here.  What’s your status, Agent Spaghetti?”

“Looking good from here.  I thought I saw someone chasing you and was worried.”

“Yeah, someone tried to jump my bones.  I’m okay, though.  The lady who had a bone to pick with me seems to have wandered off.”

He could hear Papyrus’s heavy breathing through the cheap walkie-talkie speaker.  “Agent Lazybones.  If you are not going to take this seriously, I will ask Fr...I mean, Agent Fartmaster, to help me.”

“Nah, I’m done for now, Agent Spaghetti.”

“Good.  Now.  Where are you?”

“Uh...Aisle 13.”

“Which one is that?”

“Huge teddy bears.”

“AHA!  I mean…‘aha.’  I see you.  You aren’t very well-hidden.”

Sans wiggled further behind a bear almost as big as he was.  “That better?”

Before Papyrus could respond, a pair of human boys ran by.  They couldn’t have been older than eight or nine and had the same brown, curly hair.

They stared at him.

“Mommy!  Mommy!  I want the Christmas skeleton!” one shouted, running back down the aisle.  The other just stared at Sans, his face slack and eyes wide.

Sans gave a little wave, and the boy gave a little wave back.  A smile creeped over the boy’s face.  Slowly, Sans brought a finger to his mouth in the universal signal for silence.

The boy nodded, a determined look on his face.  He marched back down the aisle, presumably to head off his brother.

“Agent Spaghetti, my position has been compromised!  Requesting plan of action!”

He heard a shuffle as Papyrus shifted.  “I thought you were going to stay hidden!  Oh, never mind.  There’s a stack of presents over on Aisle 16.  That should be to your...right?  No, other right.  Yes, that’s the right direction...oh!  Hide behind the robot display!  Quick!”

Sans ducked behind the robots, grabbing his Santa hat that threatened to fall off his skull.  “What’s going on?” he whispered into the walkie-talkie.

“The small humans who spotted you are looking for you again.  You need to get farther away!  But...not now.  They’re right next to-”

Sans turned the volume off.  He could hear the boys yelling enthusiastically, and a tired woman’s voice trying to corral their enthusiasm.  The noise slowly faded into the background hum of the department store.

“Agent Lazybones back.  Are they gone?”

“Yes, their mother appears to have captured them and is heading in the direction of the checkout.  You have another small human on your aisle, but she appears to be headed away from you.  Give...it...a...moment...ah!  There we go!  The coast is clear.  Keep heading towards Aisle 16.”

Sans made it to Aisle 16 without too much trouble and ducked behind the pile of - presumably fake - presents.  He tapped his phalanges on one and it sounded hollow.  “Okay, I’m there.  Where’s the target?”

“Ahead of you and to your left.  The Jolly Man is nowhere in sight yet; you should be clear.  Wait, wait; someone’s walking by...yes!  There!  Go for it!”

Sans turned off the walkie-talkie and clipped it to his belt.  With another quick look just in case Papyrus had missed something from his vantage point, Sans dashed across the open floor towards his target.

Near Aisle 16 was an open space that the department store used for seasonal displays and public events.  On this particular day the space had been cordoned off with faux red velvet ropes to form a waiting queue.  At the end of the queue was a chair, draped in red and white and currently empty.  A sign in front read:

        PICTURES WITH SANTA!

That wasn’t Sans’s target.  He was more interested in the large sack of presents behind the chair.  Each present - wrapped in shiny paper and bedecked with bright ribbons and bows - had a tag.  On each tag was a name.

On one of those tags, the name read, “Papyrus.”

That was his target.

Sans made it to the Santa picture area, ducked under the rope in a smooth motion, and skidded to a stop in front of the sack.  It was huge, bigger than Sans himself.  Many of the presents were small - he shuffled those to the side - but there were a few tantalizingly large ones further down that he could feel.  He climbed up on a plastic reindeer nearby for better leverage and cursed his short arms.  He...could...almost...reach…

“Sans?”

“OOMPH!”  Sans lost his balance and fell into the sack.  After a few moments of shuffling, he managed to reorient himself.  “Heya, kid.”  A quick glance over Frisk’s shoulder made his face flush a little.  “Heya, Tori.”

“Sans,” Tori said, looking torn between disapproval and amusement.

“What are you doing?”  Frisk asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Well, y’see…”  He shifted, and one of the presents pressed against the volume knob on the walkie-talkie.

“AGENT LAZYBONES!  ABORT MISSION!  I REPEAT, ABORT MISSION!  YOUR POSITION HAS BEEN COMPROMISED!”

Sans deliberately ignored Tori, who was doubled over and holding a nearby shelf for support.  “Papyrus wanted to know what he was gettin’ for Christmas.”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him.  “So...you dressed up in a Santa suit and decided to sneak around the store where Dad is going to be playing Santa?”

“Shhhh, kid!”  He checked that his walkie-talkie wasn’t transmitting.  It wasn’t.  He turned the volume back down.  “Paps...doesn’t know about that.”

“Papyrus still believes in Santa?”  Sans narrowed his eyes at the incredulity in the kid’s voice.  She shrugged in response, though, so he didn’t push.  “But...then, who buys his Christmas gifts?  Or Gyftmas gifts, I guess.”

In the background, Tori - who had nearly made is upright - broke into another fit of giggles.

“N-never mind, kid.  Say, wanna give me a hand?”

“Can’t.  There’s a rope in the way.”  Frisk patted the silky rope with both hands.  “There’s even a sign that says “Do not cross.”

“Huh.  Well…”  Sans wiggled and shuffled.  Almost...there...

He fell out of the sack, along with half the presents.  Thankfully, most of them fell on top of him, so the damage to the gifts was...minimal.

Laughing, Frisk helped him collect the errant packages and rearrange them back into the bag.  As he reached for the last one, she pulled it away from him slightly.  She waved wildly at the tag.

To: Papyrus

From: Santa

“Thanks, kid,” Sans said, tossing it lightly on top of the rest of the presents in the sack.  He ducked back under the rope.

“Wait...you’re not going to peek?  You’re not even going to shake it a little?”

“Nah.”  He was blushing again, he knew it.

They made their way over to Tori, who had calmed herself down a little.  “Y-you mean,” she said, still huffing, “Do you mean to tell me that you dressed up, distracted everyone, and staged a massive multi-departmental operation...to look for a present that you bought yourself and asked Asgore to use as a prop for the photo shoot?”

“It was a lot easier Underground,” Sans grumbled.

“And where is your brother?”

He pointed up.  Perched atop one of the department store’s support beams was a tall, lanky skeleton, waving down at them.  His battle body had been replaced with a pair of red and white striped pyjamas and a Santa hat for the occasion.  (Sans hadn’t been able to find or make a Santa suit in Papyrus’s size on such short notice.  They’d be better prepared next year.)

“O-oh dear,” Tori gasped.  “Shouldn’t we...get him down?  That does not look very comfortable.”

Sans turned the walkie-talkie back on.  “Agent Spaghetti, do you want to get down?”

“DO NOT LEAVE ME IN SUSPENSE, AGENT LAZYBONES!  DID YOU Fiii...I mean, DID YOU ACCOMPLISH YOUR MISSION?”

“Kinda.  I can give you some hints.  Didn’t get a very good look at it, though.  A Frisk-y kid here interrupted me.”

“AARGH!  And we were so close!  No matter; next year we will have a BETTER PLAN!”

“Sounds good.  Hey, head back to the corner of the store by the tires, ‘kay?  I’ll be right over to lift you down.”

“RIGHT AWAY, BROTHER!”  And he was off, parkouring across the support beams.

Sans turned to Tori, who had finally regained her breath.  “Welp, I’d better go help him down.  Are you two gonna wait here for the big guy?”

Tori smiled.  “I believe so.  Frisk may not believe in Santa Claus, but she wanted to get a picture with her father in-costume.  Will you two join us?”

“Nah, I think we’d better get out of here.  I think a few of the store folks have a bone to pick with me.  We’d better let things cool off around here.”

“Icy your point.”

“Heh, good one!  Well, I’m off.  Have a good time!”

“We shall.  You both will be joining us for hot cocoa this evening, will you not?”

“Sure thing, Tori.  See you then!  See ya, Friskles.”  He ruffled Frisk’s hair, ignoring the kid’s pout that looked more like a smile.

“Good bye...Agent Lazybones.”

Sans pulled his Santa hat further over his face and walked away a little quicker.  He was never going to live this down.