#Those bed bugs are terrified of Papyrus by the way

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 7: In Which Skeletons are Explained

...From a scientific and magical point of view, of course.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 6: In Which Everybody Threatens Sans

Next: Chapter 8: In Which The Internet is Invoked

Click here for the story overview.

By the time Sans tracked down Attie (who had somehow crawled into the dryer and was rocking herself back and forth) it was after 1:00.

This was a problem, he realized as he consulted the schedule Undyne had pinned to a cupboard with a paring knife.  Lunch was supposed to end at 1:00, and he had no idea what to even start cooking.

“Can I have a hot dog?”  Attie asked.  “You make hot dogs, right?”

“Uh...sure, but…”

“Okay!  Where are they?”

“I don’t think I…” He checked the fridge, just in case.  The shelves, to his surprise, had actual groceries on them.  Huh.  Someone must’ve stocked up.  Half of this stuff he didn’t even recognize.  Weird.

To his everlasting shock, one drawer held a six-pack of ‘dogs.  On the package was a pink sticky note covered with Boss’s handwriting:

YOU CAN HAVE HOT DOGS FOR NO MORE THAN ONE MEAL PER DAY, SANS. BUNS ARE IN THE CUPBOARD. ~THE G&T PAPYRUS

Ooooookay.

Sure enough, a quick survey of the cupboards (also stocked with more food than Sans was used to seeing) turned up a package of buns - the good kind, not the cheap tasteless things he threw on the ‘dogs at his stand.

Cooking them properly was...more work than he really wanted.  He didn’t have a rolling warmer in the apartment, and he didn’t want to wait for the ‘dogs to slow cook anyways.  He slipped both ‘dogs into their buns and stuck them in the microwave for half a minute.

Amazingly, the ‘dogs didn’t explode (unlike most things he microwaved).  He sent out a tentative thread of magic to feel for temperature, not trusting his bones to give him an accurate read.  It felt...less than boiling hot, but beyond that he wasn’t sure.

“Uh, here, kid.  Bone appetite, heh.  Careful; not sure if it’s hot.”

“Okay!”  Attie grabbed the ‘dog with both hands, took a big bite, and winced.  “Iff a liffle hoff,” she said, mouth full.  She swallowed anyways, so he wasn’t too worried.

“Hey, kid; if that’s too hot for ya, wanna see somethin’ cool?”

“Sure,” she said, before taking another huge bite.

Sans opened his mouth, tilted his head back, and shoved the entire hot dog, bun and all, into his mouth.  He felt his magic protesting - he wasn’t really made to do this - but he ignored the discomfort and resisted the urge to cough.

Attie was staring at him with huge eyes, a half-chewed bite of hot dog visible in her mouth.  He waited a moment for his magic to dissolve the ‘dog enough to talk, then laughed at her.  “What, you can’t do that?”

“No,” she said around her masticated food.  She closed her mouth, realizing her error, then chewed and swallowed with a thoughtful look on her face.

Sans knew that look.

The girl held the remaining half of her ‘dog out to him.  “Teach me,” she demanded.

“Yeah, no, kid.”

“Why not?”

“Humans aren’t built like us.  You’ll choke yourself, then Undyne’ll kill me, then Boss’ll kill me, then your mom and her mom’ll kill me.  I’ll be super dead.”

“You’re silly, Mr. Sans.”

“Yep.  That’s me, regular comedian.”

“Teach me!”

"No, kid!”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”  She blinked rapidly, her lower lip extended.

“What, is that supposed to make me more willing to teach you how to suffocate on ‘dogs?   Hell no, kid!  And stop making that face; the lip shit is super creepy!”

“Awww,” Attie muttered, dejected, to her ‘dog.

“Tell ya what.  You finish your ‘dog, and when it’s science time I’ll tell you all about how a skeleton can eat a whole ‘dog at once.  Okay?”

“Okaaaaay.”  She finished her meal in the largest bites possible, sending herself into more than one coughing fit.

Science wasn’t next on the list, though.  Next was something called Grammar, which Attie tried her best to wiggle out of.  She wouldn’t capitulate until Sans reminded her that she couldn’t see her mom until her schoolwork was done.

Schoolwork went by very quickly after that.

He wasn’t sure how much of it was actually correct - according to the note Undyne had left, the worksheets would be delivered to Tori for grading - but he was impressed by her speed.

True to his word, he spent the entire 45-minute “Science” time slot sitting at the dining room table explaining what he knew about a skeleton’s magical digestive system.  He even let Attie drop things into his mouth - jelly beans, mostly, after they found some in the cupboard and he accidentally revealed that he’d never eaten them before - so she could see that they vanished instead of dropping out the bottom of his skull.

“You don’t look like a real skeleton,” Attie said, peering intently at the juncture where his skull met his spine.  “You’re shaped really different.”

“I promise you, I am 100% a real skeleton.  I just don’t look like a human skeleton.”  And if he had a buck for every time he’d had to explain that to a human he’d have a whole herd.

“That’s what I meant, sorry.”  She narrowed her eyes, then leaned over and slapped both hands to Sans’s cheeks.

He flinched, hard, but the impact - despite its force - did no actual damage.  He stifled the urge to slap her hands away.  “What’chu up to, huh?”

“Your face feels funny.”  She tapped her fingertips against his cheekbones.  “You feel kinda soft.”

He growled.  He wasn’t used to being touched, and having someone - even someone so small - put her hands on his face was really uncomfortable.  “You can stop that now, kid.  Don’t make me remove you.”

She paused, then looked him in the eye sockets.  She must have been able to read some part of his expression because she snatched her hands away and sat back into her chair.  “Sorry, Mr. Sans.”

“‘Tsokay.  Just...don’t do that again, yeah?  You wouldn’t want me to put my hands all over your face, would’ja?  No?  Then don’t do it to other people.”

“But you’re so cool!"

He coughed.  “That’s no excuse, kid.  You gotta ask before you do that to someone.”

“Why?”

“It’s...polite?”

She tilted her head to the side.  “But you don’t care about being polite.  You’re a asshole.”

“Just...it’s...yer mom’d kill me if I taught you bad habits, okay?  And it makes people uncomfortable, and I know you’re too young to really understand yourself in relation to others but you don’t do things like that, okay?  You’ll learn as you get older.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s kinda rude to call people assholes.  Just...while we’re on the topic.”

She giggled.  “Okay.  But you still are one.”

“You got that right.”

Silence.

He rubbed the back of his vertebrae.  “Ooookay, then.  Uh, what’s left on the list?”

Attie ran into the kitchen and consulted the note.  “Art!” she called back.

“Huh?  Art?  What kind of pansy school bullshit is that?”

The girl stomped back into the dining room.  “My favorite."

“...Oh.”  He pondered this.  “So...what do you do for ‘art?’  I don’t know a damn thing, but isn’t art pictures and stuff?”  Hadn’t Boss called his spaghetti ‘art’ at some point?  Did that count?

“I mean...I guess I can color,” she said.  “I have my coloring pencils in my bag!”

“Okay, but...aaaand she’s gone.”  Sans pondered chasing after the kid, but decided it would be too much effort.  He was tired.  Between keeping up with Attie and texting Frisk periodically throughout the day, he really just wanted a nap.

She returned a few minutes later with a box of pencils and a pad of paper.  She didn’t say anything or ask questions - a miracle, given how the rest of her schoolwork had gone - but instead hummed to herself as she emptied the box of pencils across the table and began to draw.

The scratching of the paper and the off-key humming was...strangely calming, actually…

“Mr. Sans!”

“Hrk-wha?”  He sat up quickly and looked around.  When had he put his head on the table?

Attie was leaning towards him.  Her pencils were packed up and sitting neatly atop a small pile of loose papers.  “You were asleep,” she said.

“Oh.  Uh, sorry, kid.”

“‘Tsokay.  Mommy takes naps sometimes too.  I don’t usually take naps anymore ‘cause I’m a big girl now, but Mommy says that sometimes grown-ups work too hard and have to take naps.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”  He was feeling pretty groggy.

“Also, your phone was ringing.”

“Shit!”  He dug around in his pocket until he found the offending hunk of metal.

“Bad word!”  Attie howled.

Frisky Dreamer 3:25 PM Sans, you’re late for your check-in.  Just because I’m drugged into unconsciousness does not excuse you not sending an update and stuff. I am so high right now Ignore that last one

Frisky Dreamer 4:03 PM Sans, I haven’t heard from you in two horse. Hours.

Frisky Dreamer 4:22 PM SNAS, ANSER UR DAM PHONE!

“Uh, kid?  Don’t you have a phone too?”

“No...oh!  Wait!”  She pushed herself back from the table and tottered off down the hallway.  Sans sighed and tapped out a message.

You 4:26 PM Were doing art Kid really drew me into it

The response was immediate.

Frisky Dreamer 4:26 PM You fell asleep again, didn’t you.

You 4:27 PM Hey do u wanna have us come visit u or not

Frisky Dreamer 4:27 PM Whatever.

He grinned.  Apparently, that worked on both mother and daughter.  Speaking of which… ��Kid?  You find that phone?  We need to head out if we’re gonna go see your mom.”

“I found it!”  She returned with the phone in all its pink and blue glory.  “I have a message from Mommy, see?”

There was, indeed, a message from Frisk asking (in a much nicer tone) how her day was going.

“Hey, what’s that less-than-three thing mean?”

“Oh.  It’s a soul!  See?”  She held the phone on its side.

“That’s...weird.  And isn’t that upside down?”  Sans flipped the phone on its other side.

“But I’m a human!  Our souls go the other way.”

“Oh.  Right.  Anyways, are you ready to go see yer mom?  I’d better let her see for herself that you’re in one piece.  I don’t think she believes that I haven’t eaten you yet.”

Attie giggled, but awkwardly bundled into her coat and shoes anyways.  She seemed to be struggling with her shoelaces.  It was funny to watch.

“You, uh, got that, kid?”

“Maybe.  These aren’t my favorite shoes.  My favorite shoes are pink and they have flowers on them and they light up when I walk, which is why they’re my favorite.  Those ones have velcro on them so I don’t have to tie them, but these ones just have shoelaces.”

Sans nodded noncommittally.  He briefly considered helping her but…

...Nah.

She eventually knotted them into submission and tucked the ends of the laces inside the top of her shoes.  Shrugging, she grabbed the stack of papers and tucked them under her arm.  “Okay!  I’m ready!”

“Uh...what’s with that stuff, kid?  I thought that was your art.”

“It is!  I drew pictures for Mommy.  I’m gonna show her and see if she can hang them up in her hospital room.  She usually hangs them up on the ‘frigerator, but there isn’t a ‘frigerator in her room I don’t think.”

“Fair enough.  Okay, you ready?”

“Yep!”

He put both hands on her shoulders.  “One, two,” and... teleport.

Attie grabbed onto his arms for support when they reappeared in a protected nook across the street from Ebott Medical Pavilion.  “Oh!  That time it wasn’t so bad!”

“Yeah.  You should get used to it soon enough.”

“That’s pretty cool!  Can you teach me how to do that...that…”

“‘Ts called ‘teleporting,’ kid.  Disappearing and reappearing in a different place, kinda like the world’s best shortcut.  It’s a bit more complicated than that, but...it can get pretty sciencey.  And no, I’m pretty sure I can’t teach you how to do that, either.”

She pouted all the way up to her mom’s room.

He opened the door first, not wanting to interrupt anything, but Frisk was awake.  And waiting, of course.  “Sans,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument, “Why don’t you come on in.”

He came right the heck on in, one hand guiding Attie in front of him.  “Say ‘hi’ to yer mom, kid.”

The girl paused for a moment, staring at her mother.  Frisk did look pretty bad still.  Sans hoped Attie wasn’t going to scream or cry or cause a fit; he knew he’d be blamed if she did.

“Hi,” she said in a very quiet voice.

Frisk smiled.  It was the same smile she’d worn earlier when he sent her the picture of Attie and Undyne, and he fought the urge to look away.  “Hey, baby girl.  Won’t you come up and give me a hug?”

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you when you’re sick.”

“I’ll be okay.  Just make it a gentle hug.  No jumping.”

The little girl tiptoed up to the bed, leaned up, and gently put her arms around her mother.  They both sighed at the same time.

“Now what did you bring me?  Oh-Sans, chair.”  She gestured towards the aforementioned furniture, which had been moved against a wall.

Sans sat.

“I brought you pictures!”  Attie said.  She laid out each page individually on the bed, covering the blanket almost entirely.  “This is the room where I slept last night.  See?  It’s full of skeleton stuff!  It belongs to a guy called Mr. Boss, but Undie said that wasn’t his real name.”

“It isn’t,” Frisk said.  “His real name is Papyrus.  But go ahead.”

“Oh, right.  This is Mr. Pa-py-rus’s room.  He let me sleep on his bed, ‘cause he said Mr. Sans’s room was pretty messy.  It is, y’know.”

“Oh?  When were you in Sans’s room?”

“I hid in there before lunch.  Mr. Boss - I mean, Mr. Pa-py-rus - came in and was beating up Mr. Sans because of paperwork.  Then Mr. Pa-pyrus tried to fight me until Mr. Sans finished the paperwork.”  She held up another picture.  From his vantage point, Sans could barely see three blobby figures: two black and red, one blue and pink and black.  “See?  Mr. Pa-pyrus is trying to fight me ‘cause I told him not to beat up Mr. Sans.  Mr. Sans finished the paperwork before he stopped talking.  He talked a whole lot, more than Granny Ree does sometimes.”

“Papyrus...tried to fight you.”

“Yeah.  I was kinda mad that Mr. Sans did paperwork instead of saving me, but it’s all better now.”

“What?”

“He said ‘I’m sorry, kid’ and I said ‘I forgive you.’  And he said that he would’ve stopped Mr. Papyrus if he’d really started fighting, so it’s okay.”

Frisk pulled her daughter in for another hug.  Over the child’s head, she gave Sans a long, intense look.  He squirmed in his chair a little.

“Fine.  I guess...it’s okay, if you aren’t hurt.  I’ll have to have a long talk with Undyne about this, though; I don’t want you in a house where someone’s going to attack you at random.”

“It wasn’t an ‘at random!’  He tried to fight me because I told him not to beat up Mr. Sans.  Remember?  I told you.”

“That’s right.  Hey, Attie, could you do something for me?”

“Yyyep!”

“Can you get me a drink of water?  There’s a water fountain at the end of the hallway, out and to your left.  Here’s my cup.  Go out, fill the cup with water, and come right back so you can show me the rest of the pictures.  Don’t spill.”

“Okay, Mommy!”  She wiggled off the bed, careful not to wrinkle any of her drawings, and left the two adults alone.

Sans glanced at the side table.  “You already have a cup of water,” he muttered.

“That’s not the point.  You know that.”

He did.  “Look.  You know that the best way to get Boss to stand down is to give him what he wants.  He wanted paperwork; I finished the damn paperwork.  It’s not my fault Undyne changed her schedule without telling me.”

“If you hadn’t fallen asleep in here earlier, you wouldn’t have had to rush.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly running on a whole lotta sleep.  You know, after carting you and Attie all over town last night.”

Frisk’s hand clenched the blanket over her knee, then relaxed.  “I...that isn’t what I wanted to talk with you about.  Sans...does that happen on a regular basis?”

“The naps?  Well sure.  I’m-”

“Not the naps.  Don’t play dumb.  You know what I’m asking about.”

The look on her face said that she was not in the mood to be messed with; she wanted answers, and she knew he could give them.  Strange, that this human was the only one to realize that his stupidity was an act.  “...Yeah, I know.  And…”

What could he say?

“Sans?”

“Yeah.  Just...I don’t know how to answer that.  Boss...he gets aggressive when he’s angry, you know?  And I’m one of the things that makes him angry the most.  It’s my fault, really.  You get it, right?”  He winked.

Frisk’s expression didn’t change.

“A-anyways, I’ll watch the kid closer.  She can...I dunno, hide out in my room when he’s around.  I’ll clean up and everything.  That way she won’t have to see it.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.  I didn’t ask why it happened, or whose fault it was, or how you plan to cover it up.  I asked how often it happens."

“...Not as much as you’re thinking, but more than you’d like.”

“How typically vague.  Are we talking once a day?  A week?  A month?”

“Couple times a week?  I dunno.  I’ve never charted it out.”

“Alright.  Alright."  Frisk took a deep breath.  “That stops now.  Whatever you and your brother do when there aren’t kids in the house, that’s your...ah...business-”

“Hey!”

“-but I won’t have the pair of you scarring my daughter.  Both of you will be on your best behavior, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Mommy!”  Attie shuffled in with a glass full of water, her tongue peeking out from between her lips and a look of concentration on her face.  “I...almost...have...the...water...OOPS!”

She tripped over her own feet and the water spilled.

“Attie!”  Frisk was halfway out of bed before she was stopped short by the plastic tubes the doctors had stabbed into her arms.

It didn’t matter much; Attie was floating gently in mid-air, faintly glowing.  “Blue!” she cooed.

“Sans,” her mother said, “Put her down.  Gently.”

He did.

No one spoke for a long moment.

“I’ll excuse it just this once, because it looked like you were keeping Attie from getting hurt.  But if you ever - ever - use blue magic on my daughter again, I will hunt you down.  Is that clear?”

“Yeah, Boss.”

Frisk slammed her hand onto the bedside table, causing both Attie and Sans to jump.  “I am NOT your BOSS, Sans!”

“Yeah, uh, sure.”

A nurse popped her head into the doorway.  “Everything alright in here, sweetie?”

“Yes,” Frisk said.  “We’re fine.  Sorry to disturb you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.  Anytime a loved one is sick tempers run high, y’know?  Y’all just take a deep breath; no worries.  Oh, and visiting time is almost up, unless your honey there wants to stay the night.”  The nurse wiggled her eyebrows.

It took Sans a beat to realize that the nurse meant him, not Attie, and he wanted to crawl into his own hood in embarrassment.  “Nah, gotta get this kid into bed.  Early mornin’ and all that.”

“Alright, then, sweet thang.  Y’all take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”  She closed the door gently behind her.

Sans carefully avoided looking at the humans.

“Alright, Attie; time for you to go now.  Come give Mommy a kiss and head home with Sans, alright?”

There was a shuffle as Attie did as requested.  “Can I come see you tomorrow?  I didn’t get to show you the rest of the pictures.”

“Maybe.  Mommy’s pretty tired.  If everything goes well, then yeah.”

“Okay.  G’night!  Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

“You too, Attie.”

“I won’t.  I bet the bedbugs are scared of Mr. Papyrus.”

“I’m sure they are.”

A small hand in his interrupted Sans’s studied ignorance of the proceedings.  He glanced down to find Attie grinning up at him.  “Ready to go, kid?”

“Yup!”

“‘Kay, then.”  He gently started to tug her out of the room.

She resisted.  “Wait!  You didn’t say goodbye to Mommy!”

“Uh...bye, kiddo.”

“Her name isn’t kiddo, Mr. Sans.”

“Bye...Frisk?”

The woman on the bed breathed deeply, but didn’t look at him.  “Text me when you get home.  You owe me a few check-ins.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They left.

[thethrillof]

start of a weird bug tank au hollow knight/undertale crossover thing b/c i am embracing self indulgence! fuck it!

warning for the hollow knight being an absolute wreck and death-related stuff

Do not think.

It fails. The situation is beyond anything it has encountered, has heard of, was warned of.

Do not speak.

It cannot. If it tried, it would choke on meticulous lifetime habit and Her infection. The last words it has heard, shaking its tiny body, meant nothing.

Do not feel.

It does. Terror. Confusion. Terror increasing, in that the confusion does not belong solely to it and that is horribly new.

Do not hope.

That is simple enough. It knows not what could be hoped for, here.

The Hollow Knight drips infection across the strange white cloth beneath it, legs curled stiffly to avoid pressing against the glass wall of its prison.

The holes eaten away in its chest, stomach, and arm are no longer agonizing. Another creature had taken care of that.  Perhaps several. They had been moved between multiple hands. The details were lost in the haze of Her rage; all but the hands each being more than the length of its body. It had nearly fallen. It had tried to fall. Do not feel, do not feel, do not feel.

It is so tired.

She is not enraged. She is not screaming. She is waiting behind its eyes, panic stabbing through its body in a burning rhythm.

She directs its head without care. Face aimed to the side, it can see more than a white blur from above, a pink stripe along the floor outside. A creature, waiting across an abyss.

She unfurls its body. Her chanting direction of slaughter, unceasing for years, is now silent.

The distant creature lies still.

It recalls an impression of what must have been eyes, golden brown, staring into the clear cell intensely.

The creature is not watching now. Quiet. Sleeping.

Its body moves. It resists now that it has space to do so, leaving its single arm uselessly resting against the branch in the center of the cell.

…When had the other been lost?

Do not think. It gives Her purchase.

The stump that is left flares with a memory of its shape, and She grasps the branch, begins to drag its body upward. The Temple contained them both for too long. An echo of Her rage, newly building, blinds and deafens it back to submission. A chance for true freedom is here. She will succeed and it will break, again and again, as it has done before.

It is so tired.

It.

It wants.

It wants everything

to 

stop.

Do not hope.

When it can see through its own eyes once more, the giant creature is within arm’s reach.

^

Frisk wakes up with a tiny white face right in front of theirs.

It’s just luck that they don’t slam their head into the wall when they fling it back, away from something way too close so suddenly.

They stare at each other across the length of their pillow, unmoving, as Frisk starts getting their bearings back. The stickbug, the one they got from the monsters on the side of one of the mountains. It got out. Somehow.

They ask how the heck it did that.

Which, of course, does nothing.

Carefully lifting their head and resting it on their hand, their eyes slide back to the jar on the windowsill. The napkin they’d secured with the rubber band had a hole ripped all the way through, as if their stickbug had jumped straight up and out. And maybe it did. It must’ve taken some pretty big jumps to get all the way from there to the desk to their bed, unless it climbed down and back up. A quick glance at the floor shows that Mom’s pie is there, though a bug-sized bite or several probably wouldn’t be something they can see.

The stickbug sways, twitches, pitches forward, so fast they barely notice. It’s tiny, so it doesn’t have far to fall, even if it did to the blanket, and it doesn’t. It rests face-first against the side of the pillow instead, almost like it’s still standing.

Do bugs breathe? They gotta, since Mom said not to close them in the jar. The stickbug is entirely still when they get in real close, holding their own breath to see if it’ll move. When it doesn’t, they gingerly nudge it into the palm of one hand, where it curls its one upper leg against itself. Arm, maybe. They don’t know too much bug stuff, except that bees don’t sting unless you’re mean first. And that it’s not actually a stickbug. Real ones actually look like sticks. This one looks like it’s made of black wires. Wirebug just sounds weird.

Toriel is the one who knows the bug stuff. They showed the stickbug off to her first, asked her to help it, ‘cause it was bleeding all over. They never actually asked what she thought it was. Didn’t have time.

She’s the one who got the jar and let them decorate it. And she’s the one who told them, very gently, that she didn’t think the stickbug would make it overnight. Her healing magic helped, but it’s not made for fixing bugs. “Bugs rarely live long lives, my child,” she said. “It will be pleased with whatever you give it.” They think she might’ve been lying, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

It looks like it started bleeding again after they fell asleep. The orangeness is dripping down its face, uncomfortably warm where it runs down the finger that its head’s propped to rest against. Mom healed that before, they’re almost absolutely sure.

They could put it back in the jar. Leave it. To maybe get better?

Or maybe not. Maybe leave it to die.

Alone.

Frisk’s fingers curl around the stickbug a little more. They’re still pretty sleepy. It’s nowhere near dawn, still sometime after Toriel went to bed. They shift and settle their back against the wall.

It’s just a bug, but it’s still alive now. Even if it won’t be for long. Even if it can’t see, or doesn’t know what’s happening. It might--after all, Muffet’s spiders were smarter than the ones that they’d met on the Surface before. Maybe they hadn’t been paying enough attention.

They sit up better, even though they’re sleepy, shifting their hands to let the stickbug stretch out over both their palms if it wants.

They’d never died alone, of course, but even the company of somebody (or somebodies) trying to kill them somehow seems like a less awful thought. That’s terrifying, though they can’t explain why, even to themselves. Any death sucks (though getting ate is probably the worst).

Mommy! Daddy!

No. They push those thoughts off. That wasn’t alone. He was, they weren’t, game over.

It was almost like dying alone, down in the Lab. Before they got to talk the the Amalgamates in the right way. It was just cold, dark, unsettling, voices dancing around their ears and coming from their own mouth, sometimes. It was terrible.

It was cold. The echoes of air and distant Amalgamates were awful, otherworldly music.

It was cold.

It’s cold.

It’s so cold--

Until it isn’t.

Sunlight scalds their face and circles wheel around their head and they press their hands over their eyes, snarling. Frisk was busy remembering!

Something is above them. It’d be blocking out the light if it had shadow but it is the light, so they get even angrier at it. Her. HER. HER, SHE, THE RADIANCE brands into their brain.

They snap at the Radiance to get away from them.

“Little creature,” she roars sings hums laughs. “Greater beasts have tried to order me away.”

The light ripples underwater. There’s no water.  Her words pump toxin through their skin.

They move their head, cracking their eyes open. The world’s clouds and light and just a bit of stone under their back. They’re lying down. They shouldn’t be.

“Little creature. I wonder your purpose.” She does not. Certainty of a goddess that knows all, unshaken as earth scorched to nothing.

(The thought of a lie does not come to them. Fortunately, this doesn’t matter.)

Moving is painful. The sun beats down on them in waves, hot as fire, sharp as spears, and they have had enough of that.

They are not alone.

“Little creature.” She reminds them of meeting Papyrus, but that’s an insult to him. Overwhelming, alarming. Nothing to hide behind here. Undyne, bellows of justice, cutting through. Asgore, the whispers and rumors, the coffins, the warmth.

None of their sadness. None of the pain. Liar, liar, liar. They want their dagger.

“I am here. Listening. Speak. Stand. Allow me closer.” Burnt sugar sweet. A warm last breath. Love broken, love lost.  

The heat presses down harder.

They remember climbing a mountain. They remember finding a home.

Hissing words that Toriel would ground them a month for, grasping without sight, knowing what they want is right there, right next to them on the stone. A head that’s not a head, a shell, a mask, a face, a little white face with orange eyes that they blindly claw at, spilling the nasty goop to leave the space behind. It’s not a little face, it’s a mask longer than either of their arms, and after they’re done it’s held defiantly against their chest.

She screeches.

They screech back.

“You reach for that empty thing!” Her words vibrate through their teeth. “That lie! That wyrm-born abomination! You know nothing! Not where it comes from, not the shattering of my light! You will release it. You, creature, fragile, pathetic, little CREATURE. Listen! LISTEN. Do not turn your back. Nothing again. LITTLE CREATURE. COME HERE. YOU WILL RELEASE ME. YOU WILL KILL IT. YOU WILL END WHAT REMAINS OF HIM.”

The mask they hold is so, so, so cold, it bites into their skin worse with the orange burning.

A child braces for pain.

A child grits teeth.

Fought a God made of every SOUL of every monster they ever met, built of l-o-v-e, full of LOVE, stars and colors screaming and whirling and ripping them to bits. They died and died and died and refused. Hopes and Dreams and Determination, all swirling and ripping gracelessly out of their chest.

They tell her: no!

They tell her: My name’s Frisk!

They tell her: I don’t care!

They tell her: This stickbug is MINE! They’re mine! Not yours!

They are a Fallen Child even if not The Fallen Child, and they lost their fear the first time they tripped into fire, were consumed and shattered by it, and they prove this by twisting, sliding, leaping off the stone to plummet into the dark under her horrible terrible beautiful screaming--

They land with a jolt in their bed, foggy gray light filtering in through the window.

Blinking afterimages of gold circles from their eyes, they adjust their neck and look at the stickbug still in their fingers. Their stickbug, they think with a shadow of anger that’s already fading with wakefulness.

Their stickbug sits up, staring at them with deep black eyes.

Frisk gives it a tired grin.

Look, they whisper. Survived the night after all.

[salvaation]

Can I suggest a scenario for when Titan Sans inevitably realizes Frisk is sapient? Say they're out in the wild and he's made the umpteenth comment about them being no more than a smart bug, humans can't possibly have souls, and Frisk reaches their breaking point and shouts "HOW WOULD /YOU/ KNOW?" and starts ranting at him, sick and tired of being afraid, calls him a hypocrite. Something in this reaction forces him to an "oh shit" moment and he teleport away to get a grip on himself. (1/2)

(2/2) As he teleports he leaves Frisk behind in his panic. Frisk took the shock on his face as anger and assumes he left them on purpose, and now they're out in the open and at risk of being found by other monsters. (that's all I have for now, whether or not the other monsters find Frisk is up to you)

Frisk hated her life.

She had a nice home, plenty of food, clean water, a warm bed. She had people that cared about her. But she was still stressed and terrified every single minute of every day.

Toriel was kind and sweet, she cared for Frisk happily, making sure the girl was clean and fed, doing her best to make the human feel welcome. Papyrus was cheerful and friendly, always willing to talk with her and solve puzzles, or tell stories when she was feeling down. He carried her around on his shoulder, snuggled up in the scarf he always wore, and tried his best to keep his brother from bothering her, even if he wasn’t successful all the time.

The girl shuddered as her thoughts turned to the third monster of the household.

Sans was… difficult. He didn’t seem to care about her aside from keeping her alive, and had all but said that he didn’t give a shit about how she felt. He was cold and uncaring, treated her like nothing more than a toy for his satisfaction. She hated how weak and helpless he made her, unable to do anything to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to her. He never even called her by name; in fact, she doubted he even knew it.

When Toriel asked if Frisk would be alright going out with Sans - just for a brief outing, the motherly woman assured -, the girl froze. She was trembling, eyes wide and staring blankly upon hearing the words.

“Frisk, if you do not want to I will not make you, of course.” Toriel reassured, cradling the girl in her soft hands. “I will request that he not upset you, and if he does simply tell me, alright? You will not have to do this again if so, I simply… I am hoping he will make an attempt to get to know you.”

“I…” Frisk trailed off, thinking over the option for a few minutes. “If- if it’ll get him to- to stop, I’ll do it.”

Toriel smiled down at her, gently placing the girl on her shoulder.

“That is what I hope for, my child.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Frisk clung to Toriel’s ear, trembling in anxious fear as she listened to the conversation. She was trying to hide from the skeleton, shrinking away whenever he glanced towards her.

“Sans, are you listening to what I am saying?”

“yeah, tori. take the squirt an’ go scout around.” He replied nonchalantly, waving a hand lazily in the air. “no prob, i can handle that.”

Toriel stared firmly at him, trapping his gaze with her own.

“If I hear you have done anything to upset Frisk, I will not be pleased.”

Frisk could see how the woman had been a strong queen years ago - that one sentence carried the weight of a royal decree, and even though the girl wasn’t being addressed she still felt compelled to obey.

“alright, alright, fine. no messin’ with th’pipsqueak, got it.” He groaned, dropping his skull back against the arm of the couch. “i ain’t gonna do nothin’, don’t worry.”

“You had better not, Sans. I will be disappointed with you if so.” Toriel said, raising a hand to her shoulder. Frisk hesitated for a moment, cautiously glancing between her open palm and the skeleton staring at her, before stepping down.

She tried to refrain from shuddering as she stepped onto Sans’s hand, the bone cool and smooth beneath her feet. His fingers curled up over her head, like the bars of a ghoulish cage, and then she was stuck with him. He paused for a moment, before lifting her to his shoulder, ignoring the little gasp she made when he moved.

“there, that good? not gonna bother the squirt or anything.” The skeleton grumbled, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie. Toriel sighed, once more giving Frisk a gentle smile before he disappeared.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Sans walked in silence for several minutes, grumbling to himself as he ignored the little human perched on his shoulder. She was quiet in return, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“hey tiny. you cold?”

His voice startled Frisk out of her thoughts, getting a wide-eyed stare in response. It took a moment to process what he’d said, confusion clear in her expression.

“i asked if you were cold. s’windy, and yer shakin’ like a whimsun.” He repeated, sounding exasperated with her lack of comprehension.

“Oh, n-no, I’m okay.” She replied, wrapping her arms around herself.

Frisk was rather cold, in fact, but she was unwilling to accept any ‘help’ he might offer - it always came with strings attached. She’d rather tough out the chilly air than deal with whatever he had in store.

“alright, pipsqueak.”

She flinched at the nickname, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

Why does it bother me so much? It’s just a stupid name, nothing to cry over. The girl scolded herself, drying her eyes roughly with her sleeve.

A flash of color caught her eye, drawing her attention. It looked like an old blanket caught in some bushes - probably from a scouting mission years ago, but it would be nice to have.

“Hey, um. Can you please let me down for a second?” She asked timidly, her hands shaking even when she clasped them together to hide it.

“what for? ya gonna run off like an idiot? won’t get far, there’s tons’a monsters around here, squirt.”

Frisk clenched her jaw for a moment, trying not to lash out at his dismissive comment.

“I asked to be put down, please. I shouldn’t have to explain my reasons for everything, I can make my own decisions you know.” She replied in an even tone.

He looked at her for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

“oh stars, that’s hilarious - ‘i can make my own decisions’, no ya can’t tiny, yer nothing more than a bug.”

She’d been treated like this by him for months, dismissing her opinions and comments with a wave of his hand, ignoring anything she said to make decisions for her. He’d completely refused to listen to her polite requests, but this was the last straw.

Furious tears stung her eyes as she turned, feeling her magic spark in her chest.

“And how would you know?!” She shouted, bristling in anger. “You never bother to actually talk to me, you won’t even use my name - did you even know I had one? Doesn’t seem like it, you always call me those stupid little nicknames and I hate it!”

“hey, settle down-”

“No, don’t tell me to settle down! I am a person just like you, and Papyrus, and Toriel, and I demand to be treated like one!” She was on the ground. Frisk didn’t know when that happened, but she didn’t care. Her fear and anxiety had finally reached a boiling point, and it had boiled over into pure, unfettered rage.

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself, you greedy coward! I am not a toy for you to do whatever you want with, and I’m done being treated like one! If you’re going to bully someone around, then go find someone else, because I’m through!! You’re such a fucking hypocrite, justifying the way you treat me by what humans have done - do you want me to do the same?? I’m a fucking orphan, my parents were killed when the Barrier fell, but you don’t see me walking around blaming you for my own losses - my family, my friends, my brother. How would you feel if you lost everyone who cared about you in one single moment? I’ve been dealing with it for six years!”

She was crying now, vision blurred and distorted by the endless river of tears that streamed down her face.

“I just- I just want to be seen as a person, is that too much for you?” The girl sobbed, her anger dissipating as she abruptly fell to her knees.

Sans was absolutely silent, simply staring down at her. Immediately she regretted saying anything - he’d said flat out that he’d have no problems killing her, and she just screamed at him and insulted him.

“I- I’m sor-rry,” she whispered, shrinking into herself in fear. She heard him move, letting out a sigh, and she closed her eyes tightly, tense and fearful of what he was going to do.

But then he just vanished. She sat on the ground in shock for a few seconds, staring at the empty space where the skeleton had once stood, but she was completely alone.

“No! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it please don’t leave me here, I’m sorry I’ll be good I-I’ll listen and I won’t tell Toriel anything, just please don’t leave me here alone!”

No one was around to hear her pleas.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

He leaned heavily against the wall, running shaking hands over his skull as his mind replayed the words that had been screamed at him.

Hypocrite

Coward

Bully

“oh stars, i didn’t- i didn’t realize, or maybe i didn’t want to- i fucked up, didn’t i.” He whispers to himself, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, resting his elbows on his knees.

You were selfish, and didn’t want to consider anyone else’s problems, you wanted to be able to take your anger out on anyone you wanted. What’s a few tears from a human, they’re just animals. So what if it cries, and begs, mice do the same when the cat comes.

He felt sick as all the guilt he’d managed to avoid came crashing down in an instant.

“No, please, I don’t want to die I’m sorry! I just wanted to help people I never wanted to hurt anyone please I can’t die like this.”

“I won’t let you hurt them - they’re intelligent, they were showing concern for each other. It’s like nothing anyone’s ever heard of, don’t kill them!”

Stars, she’d risked her own life to protect them, and what did he do in return? Laugh at her fear and distress, ignore her pleas for mercy. He really was a hypocritical, cowardly bully.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Frisk managed to free the blanket from the bushes, getting a few scrapes in the process. At least she wouldn’t freeze - but a blanket wouldn’t be much help if a monster found her.

Or a hungry predator.

Goosebumps rose on her neck as she turned, looking between trees into a gathering darkness. If she spent the night out in the open, she doubted she’d survive. Probably what he was hoping for, leaving her out in the wilderness all alone with no way to get back.

“Stupid idiot, why did I do that??” She berated herself, kicking a rock in irritation - shit, that hurt.

The girl started walking, looking for someplace where she could hide away for the night, but wasn’t having much luck. It was getting dark far faster than she’d expected, and as night set on so too did a bone-chilling cold.

The wind whistled eerily through the trees, sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the rapidly dropping temperature. Finally she found somewhere to rest - an ancient tree with a hollow beneath its roots, far from comfortable but it was better than nothing.

The little human curled up in the hole, shivering even as she pulled the blanket tighter around her. Sleep would be difficult to find that night.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Sans sat in the dark of his room for hours, it seemed, before a knock sounded at the door.

“Brother, are you in there? Toriel is wondering where you and the human are, she is getting worried.”

Papyrus.

He couldn’t let Toriel know what he’d done. Leaving the human by herself in the wilderness hadn’t been what he’d wanted, but her explosive outburst overwhelmed and shocked him, and he acted without thinking.

“I just want to be treated like a person, is that too much to ask?” Her face was stained with tears, months of repressed fear and anguish coming to the surface as she sobbed on the ground. He didn’t know what to do, what to say - was there even anything he could say that would make this better?

As he watched, nightmarish beasts crept out of the shadows, drawing nearer and nearer to the girl. He tried to say something, tried to pull her out of danger, but he could do nothing but watch as they pounced, teeth and claws tearing her to shreds while she still pleaded.

“Why? Why? Why would you be so cruel? Why would you hurt me? Why did you leave me out here to die?”

The shadowy creatures began to melt into each other, coalescing into a huge form that slowly stood upright.

He was staring at a horrifying vision of himself, teeth and hands stained red with blood. The nightmarish creature smiled cruelly as him, before lifting a finger to its mouth in a shushing gesture.

He couldn’t look away, staring in horror as it opened one hand, revealing a broken body that shook with silent sobs. He stared transfixed as the nightmarish vision lifted her towards its face, bloody fangs parting to reveal an endless black void.

And then his position switched. He could taste hot metal - it made him sick, he wanted to vomit but he couldn’t. A terrified girl stared back at him, cornered between him and a wall.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong!” She cried, pressing herself back against the wall as if to disappear.

He couldn’t control his own actions, could only watch as he reached out, ignoring her shrill cries, ignoring the sobs of pain as he closed a fist around her and squeezed. She choked, tears dripping from her chin as he felt bones give under pressure. Even then, he couldn’t stop, could only stare in horror as her fragile body was crushed by his hands.

He jerked back with a strangled cry, hands covering his mouth in horror. It took a while to remember where he was, tears muddling his vision as he tried to breathe.

it was just a dream

Relief flooded through him, even as he sat on the floor trembling. It was horrifying, what his mind had conjured up, but he knew that it could have been so much worse - it was, he wasn’t the one trapped and helpless, unable to do anything but beg.

“stars, i never meant to hurt her- but i didn’t care what she said, if i liked it i assumed she must too.”

Then he remembered what had happened before. He’d left her out there, alone, with no way to find her way back. She could be hurt by now, or worse- the thought was cut off abruptly as he shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to go down that road.

Again, he vanished from the room, reappearing where he had been hours before. But there was no sign of the girl.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Frisk awoke in discomfort. Nearly every inch of her ached, sore and strained muscles crying out a chorus of pain whenever she moved. The oppressive darkness had begun to lift - it must be near dawn.

She slowly got to her feet, holding back whimpers of pain as more aches made themselves known. But she didn’t have time to worry about that, she had to figure out how to get back.

The human began a slow, stumbling course into the trees, knowing neither which direction she was headed nor what waited for her there.

It was a panther.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Sans had been searching for over an hour, and still had found no sign of the human. He was getting frantic as the images from his nightmare bubbled up in his mind, sending thoughts of finding a bloody, mangled body to the front of his consciousness.

At one point he thought he’d caught her scent, but it was gone moments later, leaving him unable to track her. It had been so long, he was starting to lose hope that he would find her at all.

“kid! c’mon, where are you? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to be such a jerk - and i was, you were right, i’m a jerk and a bully, but i’m sorry. please, come back.”

No response came.

He stopped, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring down at the ground. There was still absolutely no sign of the missing girl, and he didn’t know how long she could even last out here. What if someone else ran across her, and took her back as a pet? Or if a bear or something had decided she would be a good meal.

That morbid line of thinking was interrupted by a shrill, pained scream not far away.

The skeleton knew that voice, and plunged towards the source without hesitation.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Frisk had managed to lose the panther, or at least she hoped she did. There was no way she would be able to run any longer.

She’d bolted blindly into the trees when she heard it scream, not looking where she was going until she had already plunged over a sharp drop. She hit the ground hard, hearing something snap as unimaginable pain shot through her leg. It was painful to even breathe, any movement at all sending more lances of red through her shin. It was definitely broken, and bleeding badly as well.

Tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks, mixing with blood from various scrapes and scratches she’d gotten during her desperate flight. When sweat dripped into the cuts it stung, but that small pain was a welcome distraction from the agony elsewhere. She’d managed to drag herself up against the rock face, tucked into a little alcove that at least gave her some meager protection, but she wasn’t optimistic about surviving another night. She rested her head against the cliff, allowing her eyes to droop as labored breaths filled her lungs.

Footsteps, but they were so big and loud. The ground shook with them, making her yelp in pain. That wasn’t nice, and she vaguely remembered something else not-nice that came with the footsteps.

“shit! hey, kid, can you hear me? c’mon, say somethin’.”

That voice was not-nice too, and she remembered when she finally managed to open her eyes. The skeleton that had tortured her for months loomed over her, casting a long shadow that blocked out all the light. She made a strangled sound, trying to crawl away despite her broken leg, which only made it worse as the fractured bone split her skin.

“No please don’t hurt me I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you mad I’ll be good I promise just please don’t hurt me anymore.” She sobbed, curled up as far away from him as she could get.

“hey, no no no, don’t cry please, i’m not gonna hurt ya, i’m sorry i was such a jerk but i’m not gonna hurt ya, okay?” He assured her, sitting down so as not to present such an intimidating figure.

Stars, he’d really messed up hadn’t he. She was so scared of him that she’d hurt herself trying to get away even with a broken leg. And she was bleeding so much.

“come here, i won’t hurt you. i’m not upset with you, i just want to help okay? is it okay if i touch you?”

Frisk stared up at him, looking for all the world like a hurt, caged animal. Wide, panicked eyes peered up through her wild hair, sticks and leaves caught in the tangled locks. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood, clothes tattered and stained.

And it was his fault. If he hadn’t been so cruel to her, she wouldn’t have been so afraid, wouldn’t have lashed out and made him panic. She wouldn’t have spent a night alone in the woods, and wouldn’t have been so badly injured if he’d just listened.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, looking at her silently for a few moments before slowly reaching towards her, keeping his hand loose and trying not to seem threatening. The girl still whined, eyes widening impossibly as her gaze fixed on the approaching hand. She cowered back against the rock, trembling in terror but helpless to escape.

“hey, shhh,  i’m not going to hurt you, really. i just want to take a look at your leg, is that alright? i can help, really.” He murmured gently, stopping when she let out a frightened cry. It would take a lot of work, but he wanted to try and fix things between them.

Ever so slowly, he managed to slide his hand under her, doing his best not to disturb her broken leg as he did so, but she still made pained noises whenever he moved her. Once she was off the ground, he lifted her up, fingers curled protectively around her tiny form.

“stars, that looks bad… i dunno if i can fix it, kid, but i’ll do my best.”

Sans moved his free hand to touch the broken limb, but was interrupted by a frightened scream.

“No, don’t touch me! It hurts, don’t hurt me any more.” She cried, recoiling from his approach with fresh tears in her eyes.

“hey, i’m not gonna hurt you, doll. i just wanna get that leg fixed up, alright? m’sorry, i shouldn’t have treated you so bad but i just didn’t know.”

He’d really fucked up, hadn’t he. Frisk was hurt bad, and was too scared of him to let him help - and even if he tried, he doubted any attempt to heal her would have any effect, if she wasn’t willing. Magic was obnoxious that way. He couldn’t shortcut back to the house either, not with her hurt like this - passing through the void in such a bad condition was a bad idea, and Toriel would rip him a new one if he showed up with the kid bloody and broken.

“i won’t touch your leg, alright? is that okay?” It was harder to heal without touching the injury, but in her state there was no way she’d let him - in fact, he was surprised she hadn’t tried to jump off his hand yet.

The girl sniffled, staring wide-eyed in caution as he slowly moved his other hand towards her again. True to his word, he didn’t try to touch her leg, just cupped his hand over the limb. A look of concentration etched onto his face, the intensity making her whine slightly in fear.

It wasn’t completely healed, but at least her tibia wasn’t sticking through the skin anymore. The wound was left as an angry red welt, the skin thin and tender - it wouldn’t stand up to any rough treatment, but she wasn’t bleeding there anymore. And the bone hadn’t been mended all the way - it was still fractured, but it wasn’t a complete split anymore.

“there, see? that’s better, right - doesn’t hurt anymore.” Sans reassured her, cupping his phalanges around her as he stood. “jus’ rest for now, i’ll get ya home safe. no tricks or anythin’, really.”

Frisk didn’t trust him, but she was exhausted. She tried to stay awake, but the adrenaline crash from her terrified flight, the restless night before that, and countless stressful days prior took their toll. She was out like a light.

While he walked, Sans tried to come up with some excuse that the ex-queen would accept for the long absence and the girl’s injuries.

the kid wanted to take a look at somethin’, and we got separated. i looked all night, but by the time i found her she’d been hurt real bad by somethin’.

No, there was nothing he could say that Tori would believe. She was more cunning than her matronly attitude would suggest - she’d have to be, to have ruled monsters for so long. It would be best to tell the truth - albeit a heavily modified version.

He’d gotten in an argument with the kid, and she’d stormed off in a huff. He let her alone for a while to calm down, but when he went to get her he couldn’t find her, and ended up looking all night. He found her all bashed up that morning, and came right back to get her fixed up.

Yeah, that would work. Hopefully.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Frisk slowly became aware of her surroundings, first noticing a comforting softness that cradled her gently, the surface so comfortable that she would have gladly returned to sleep.

But she wasn’t tired, and after a few minutes of laying still she was bored. A quiet groan escaped her as she shifted slightly, hearing her joints pop as she stretched before sitting up and finally, slowly blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

The girl barely managed to contain a terrified shriek at what she saw. She was on the table in the front room, sitting in the box of fabric that served as her bed - it normally sat on Toriel’s bedside table, but clearly had been moved. Mere feet from where she’d been sleeping was the face of her nightmares. Sans was leaning heavily on the table, arms folded and skull resting on them as he snored.

Silently, she tried to creep further from the cruel skeleton, but when she tried to stand lances of pain shot through her, causing her to collapse with a hurt cry. Terror flooded through her as the sound broke the silence, eyes wide as she stared at the monster before her, breathless.

He shifted slightly, opening his sockets to reveal fuzzy lights floating in the black, which centered on her fallen form after a brief moment.

“hey, you doin’ better now?” He murmured, reaching one hand towards her.

Frisk tried to scream, but her voice cracked painfully, only managing a strained gasping sound as she tried to retreat from his reach.

To her utter bafflement he stopped, fingers curling slightly into a loose fist before withdrawing. The girl stared, trembling as she lay sprawled on the surface of the table.

“i… yeah, that’s- sorry.” The skeleton seemed at a loss for words, shifting his gaze away uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his skull, now leaning back into his chair. “prob’ly shoulda expected that, really - s’not yer fault, a’course.”

Nothing he was saying made any sense. Actually, nothing about this situation made any sense to her. She’d been asleep here, clearly for a while judging by the crust in the corners of her eyes, and he’d been there too - why hadn’t she woken up in his stomach, like countless other times? And why had he stopped when she cried out - he had the audacity to even look concerned about her.

“Wh-” She started, breaking off with a quiet cough. “Why…?”

He glanced at her briefly when she spoke, but looked away again when she stiffened and gasped slightly.

“i… ya prob’ly got a lotta questions, don’t ya. but lemme say somethin’ first, okay?” He sighs, running a hand down his face before looking back at her, sitting quietly for a brief moment as he tries to find the right words - if there even were any. What do you say to a kid that you’ve emotionally traumatized for months without realizing that’s what you were doing?

“m’sorry, i was a huge dumb jackass t’ya, an’ ya didn’t deserve that. shouldn’t’a treated ya so bad, an’ i understand if ya don’t wanna see me ever again, really, but i just - i fucked up, i fucked up real bad an’ i wanna try to do better now. ya don’t gotta agree, but i just… i wanna second chance ta try an’ start over. i didn’t realize how scared ya were -  or maybe i did but i just didn’t care, i don’t know, an’ i know there ain’t any reason for ya to forgive me, frisk, but i just. i didn’t think about how ya felt, an’ i’m really truly sorry for that. f’ya don’t want me around jus’ say so, an’ i’ll leave ya alone, i promise. i’ll get outta yer hair and stay away, so ya don’t gotta worry or be scared anymore.”

Frisk stared silently at him as he spoke, every word just adding to her complete and utter bewilderment at the situation she'd found herself in. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing - he was seriously going to apologize, try to make everything okay after the months of terror she’d gone through because of him. It wasn’t enough to scare her so much she couldn’t sleep, he had to mock her now too?

“Why should I believe anything you say to me? You’ve never cared before, why would that change now?” The girl didn’t intend to voice her thoughts, tone scathing and furious as she spoke. But by the time she realized, it was too late to take it back. “I-”

“no, yer right.” The skeleton interrupted, raising a hand placatingly. “i was a piece’a shit t’ya, an’ there’s no reason fer ya t’believe anything i’m sayin’. an’ i don’t blame you, frisk, really. i wanna try to be better, cause i realized i was wrong, an’ it made me feel sick - i’m disgusted by what i did t’ya, kid, an’ i’m honestly sorry, but you don’t hafta forgive me.”

“I… I’m gonna need some time.” She replied shortly, hands pressed together tightly in her lap. There were a lot of things she would have to think about, after what he’d said. It was insane to expect a decision right after that bombshell, and she was still having trouble accepting that it was actually happening. “I’m just… I’d like to be alone for a bit.”

“alright.” Without further comment he stood and left, leaving her even more disoriented in the sea of confusion she was floating in.

Frisk probably wouldn’t ever trust him completely - certainly she could never trust him as much as Toriel or Papyrus -, but if he was actually willing to change, she would let him try. No matter what, mercy was always an option.