#it feels like every time i do something to preserve myself im punished for it

[angelstrawbabie420]

in my quest to quell my pain ive only hurt myself worse. damned if i do damned if i dont.

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 14: In Which Much is Explained

...And Undyne plays therapist.

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

Previous: Chapter 13: In Which Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Next: Chapter 15: In Which Sans is Hired

Click here for the story overview.

Weeks passed in a similar manner.  Though Sans didn’t breathe a word about Attie, or Frisk, or his missing phone data, he thought about them almost constantly.  It seemed like Attie and Frisk took up almost as much of his life in their absence as they had when they were actually part of it.

He made sure not to walk past Frisk’s house on his way to and from the park where he sold hot dogs.  It was pretty far out of his way, actually, especially on sore feet.  He couldn’t even remember why he’d started using that route in the first place.  It was much easier to take the straight path through the heavily monster-populated part of town, even if he could feel eyes on him.

The feeling was particularly strong one evening as he was walking home from his sentry shift.  He was almost sure someone was following him, but that could’ve been a trick of his half-mad mind.  Pulling double shifts on top of selling hot dogs was utterly exhausting, even though - or, perhaps, because - it had been such a boring job lately.  Sure, sentries were technically supposed to keep humans out of Mount Ebott and dangerous monsters in, but few people were stupid or reckless enough to try crossing either way.  Every once in a while some dumb human teenagers would dare each other to go up the mountain, but they were easily turned back.  Sans hadn’t had that pleasure in...well, since long before he met Attie.

He glanced over his shoulder.  His shadow didn’t duck behind the building fast enough, and he caught a glimpse.  A single figure, humanoid, face covered by the hood of a jacket.  Dark clothing.  Short, around his height.  Slender.  The faint outline of a rounded chest.

...What was a lone woman doing out at night in this part of town?  And tailing him, no less?

She was following him relatively closely, which was...not as annoying as Sans thought it would be.  At least if someone got stupid and jumped her he’d be close enough to hear the ruckus and intervene if things got out of hand.  He resolutely ignored the idea that he wouldn’t have cared before Attie came into his life.

The woman stalked him past Grillby’s, and he resisted the urge to stop in for a drink.  Grillbz would report to Boss if there was enough money in it for him, and Boss was still unusually cranky.  The last thing Sans wanted was a repeat of his punishment from the day Attie disappeared; that had been nearly a month ago, and he still felt a little sore when he stood for long periods of time.

Sighing to himself, Sans cut back towards his apartment building.  Hopefully she’d just confront him and get it over with.

He held the door to the building open with one foot and shifted, watching the woman tense from the corner of his eye socket.  “You comin’ in or what?”

She sidled along the building, a little unsteadily, and put a hand on the door.  As she passed him, the yellow glow of the bare bulb in the hallway highlighted the curves of a familiar jaw and cheekbone.

“F-Frisk?”

Frisk held a finger to her lips and stepped into the hallway, letting him close the door behind her.  She made a motion with her hand that took Sans a moment to decipher.

“O-oh, yeah.  Uh.  Sure.  C’mon in.”

He lead the way up to the apartment he and Boss shared, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“SANS!  You sack of SHIT, you’re LATE!”

Sans dodged Boss’s attack on instinct, then felt his very soul stutter.  Frisk had been behind him.  He turned to look, but thankfully she stood…

...well, mostly unharmed.  She had a scratch on her left arm from wrist to elbow, skin and a thin line of blood showing through the tear in her jacket.  Considering the trajectory of Boss’s attack and the fact that she’d been caught by surprise in the narrow hallway, it was impressive.

“Kiddo, let’s-”

“Oh, Ambassador Dreamurr!  I apologize.  My underling-”  Boss kicked Sans out of the doorway- “Neglected to tell me that we would be having such a prestigious visitor in our humble home.  Are you harmed?”

Sans heard Frisk confirm that she was mostly alright.  The attack had been aimed him, after all; it hadn’t been very damaging.  She accepted Boss’s invitation to enter the apartment, but not his offer of dinner.

“SANS, GET OUT.  The Ambassador has something to discuss with me.”

He nodded and limped towards the door.  Grillby’s it was, then.

“Actually,” Frisk said, not moving from her spot in the doorway, “I need to speak with Sans for a moment.”  She glanced between him and Boss, amusement evident in the slight quirk of her eyebrow; Sans could only imagine what their expressions looked like.   “Alone, please, Papyrus.”

“Yes, your highness.”  Boss saluted and strode back towards his bedroom, shooting a very nasty glare at Sans as he went.

Screw this up, and you’re dust, the glare said.

Sans gulped audibly.   Message received.

Then they were alone.

“Do you, uh, want to sit...down?”

“Alright,” Frisk responded.  She headed not towards the couch that he’d been vaguely indicating but towards the dining room table.  He shrugged lightly and followed her.

They sat across from each other for a long moment, neither speaking.  He wasn’t sure how to break the silence without violating Boss’s rules, so he waited for Frisk to start first.

“I owe you,” she said, finally. Her voice was low, like she didn't want Boss to overhear.

“Uh…”

“What do you want?”  The question held a lot less animosity than Sans had been expecting, especially considering how completely she’d cut him out of her life.

“I…”   I want to see Attie again, he yearned to say.   Just for a moment.  Just to make sure she’s okay, and doing her Science and Math, and eating properly; nothin’ weird.  Just to say goodbye.

“Do you think Frisk wants a filthy pest like you in her daughter’s life?”

“I don’t...want anything,” he said, fiddling with his fingers.

“What?  Nothing?”

“Nope.  Never...uh, never did.”

And it was true.  From the day he’d found Attie in the bushes outside her house he hadn’t even considered collecting payment for his actions.  It showed a stunning lack of self-preservation on his part - Frisk was a powerful woman, and her favor could get him nearly anything he could ever want - but he was just...tired.

“Then, why-”

“I just didn’t want a kid to watch her mom die, okay?” He took a deep, needless breath, fighting to keep his voice down.  “I don’t...I don’t know where this idea came from that I want you dead’n a ditch somewhere, but that’s...not true, okay?  We...you ‘n me, we haven’t always gotten along, sure, but I don’t get along with most folks.  Hell, I don’t get along with Grillbz half the time.  Doesn’t mean I’m waitin’ in a back alley for him, tryin’ to extort money off ‘im whenever he’s having a bad day.”

“Okay, but you’ve done so much for us.  For me.”  Frisk’s hands pressed to the dingy tabletop without regard for the stains that littered its surface as she leaned towards him.  “Even if you didn’t help us so you could have something to hold over my head, isn’t there something you want?  I...I can talk to Papyrus about getting your shifts reduced, at least?  It isn’t fair that you should have to make up time when you were helping me.  It’s not like you were slacking off.”

“It’s fine.  Someone’s gotta watch the old place.”  And most of the other sentries had families, which was more of a consideration now than Sans wanted to admit.

“Okay, well...are you sure?  Is there anything you want?  Anything at all?”

A picture, he wanted to say.  You and Attie, smiling.  Just one - just something to remember the both of you by.  Something to remind me that you aren’t just the pretty painted statue I always see on TV.

“The ambassador’s daughter is too important a secret to be entrusted to the likes of you.”

He shook the thought away.  “Just...be happy, okay?  And make sure the kid does her Science.”  He couldn’t meet her eyes.

Weak, whispered his mind.   This is why you should stay away from them.  You’ll only drag them down to your level.

Frisk nodded, slowly, looking almost as lost as he felt.  “I...okay, I will.”

He gestured towards her ripped sleeve.  “And get your mom to patch that up, okay?”

“Alright,” she said.  She fidgeted with the ragged edge, apparently not bothered by the wound.  “Are...are you okay as well?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?  It looked like Papyrus kicked you-”

“I’m fine.  Really.”

Silence dragged on until it felt uncomfortable, then a few seconds past that.  Frisk watched him carefully the entire time, as if trying to peek into his soul by way of his eye sockets, but he forced all emotion down, down and away from her prying eyes.  There was no need for her to worry about scum like him.  “Well, then.  I suppose...I’d better leave you be, then.  And truly, Sans, thank you."

He nodded.  He didn’t think he could form words around all the things he couldn’t say.

“I’ll...see myself out.  If he asks, please let Papyrus know that I’m not happy with him; he’ll understand what it means.”  She stood, pushed in her chair, and was gone before Sans could think of a reason for her to stay.

He retreated to his room before Boss realized Frisk had left.  Passing on a message like that would probably cause a screaming fit, and he didn’t think he could handle another screaming fit.  His bones felt strangely fragile, like he was about to fall apart at any moment.  And what was there to keep him together?  Sans had just given up his best chance of getting everything he wanted, and he couldn’t tell if it was the right thing to do or the worst mistake of his life.

For most of the night he just sat on the edge of his mattress, face in his hands, and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down his cheekbones.

The next morning, he felt awful.  He hadn’t slept much at all but managed to drag himself out of bed on sheer force of habit.  The apartment seemed too quiet, just like it had every day for the past month.  How long would it take for him to get used to normalcy again?

Boss was out, as usual.  It abruptly occurred to Sans that he didn’t know what day it was.  He’d been counting days, sure (it had been 26 days since he'd last seen Attie), and it should be possible to figure out the day of the week from that, but he didn’t think his foggy mind would stand up to that much math.

He shuffled around in various pairs of dirty pants until he found his phone, only to find that it was dead.

Great.

It took only a moment to plug it in on his way to the kitchen, but even that felt like too much work.  It was surprisingly early; if he actually needed to go to his hot dog stand, he wouldn’t even have to run.  He stared for a long moment at the coffee machine, debating whether it was worth the effort.  On the one hand, it was even more work and he felt exhausted.  On the other hand...caffeine.

Deciding that caffeine was necessary to keep him going through the day, Sans dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine and started it up.

The door to his apartment slammed open just as the final drips of coffee were disappearing into the carafe.  For one terrible moment, he thought it was Boss; he nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort to get his back to the wall.

“...The hell, asshole?”

“Oh.  Hey, Undyne.”

“It’s CAP...y’know what?  Never mind.  Where’s your brother?”

“Uh...not here?”

“Don’t eff with me.  I can smell coffee.”

Sans wondered just how long Undyne had gone without sleep.  She looked nearly dead on her feet.  On the other hand, it was hilarious that she was still censoring her language around the apartment.  “Y’do remember that I can make coffee too, right?”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah, right.  Just didn’t think you’d bother.”

He sighed.  “Sit down, I’ll get you a mug.”

She grabbed at the piping hot carafe, ignoring the potential for burns.  “MUGS ARE FOR-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want some too.  Go sit down or somethin’.”

Undyne actually sat down (in a chair, no less), which said a lot about her mental state.  She growled something under her breath when Sans moved the carafe, but settled down a little when he poked a mug of coffee into her field of vision.  The carafe itself followed, minus the contents of his own mug.

“See,” he said, sitting across from her at the table, “We can pretend to be all civilized.”

A skeptical eyebrow begged to differ.

“So, uh, whaddaya need Boss for?”

“He’s supposed to be on patrol around town this morning and he’s not answering his phone.  He always answers his phone.  So, that’s worrying.  Especially since there’s been an increase in weird stuff in the past few weeks, ever since...well.  You remember when Frisk was attacked by that bitch in the hospital?”

Sans did remember, but he was pretty sure the real “bitch” was the one who brought down the would-be assassin, not the assassin herself.  He knew better than to say that out loud, though.

“So, now that Frisk is able to perform the official interrogation we’re getting ready for the trial.  There’s a weirdly vocal group of humans who think we targeted this lady for some bullshit reason.  Don’t know who spread the rumors, but some of them are saying that we, I dunno, accused her at random because of her skin color??  Hah.  I don’t discriminate when taking down people who threaten my besties.”  She took an aggressive gulp of coffee, then refilled her mug.

“That’s weird.  Do they have any proof?  I mean, we caught this lady in the act.  We have video evidence of what happened.  ‘Ts not like we lined up a bunch’ve humans and framed the one that’d cause us the most trouble.”

“Eh, most of the human media won’t touch our footage; they say it’s fake.  Lotsa folks are saying we made up the whole thing, especially since the hospital’s official stance is that it was some kinda huge accident.  HAH!  I’m glad we got Frisk out of that place; one of the doctors was apparently bein’ a real creep.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.  Someone was tryin’ to get the hospital to keep her locked up for ‘mental distress’ or some kind of bullshit like that.  Kept tryin’ to turn away visitors, too.  That’s why there was the big rush to get her out of there.  Didn’t think you’d dump the kid on her right away, though.”

Sans’s head was spinning.  A doctor?  Was that Dr. Ray?  And: “...I didn’t dump the kid, Undyne.  Boss sent me out and passed off the kid before I got...uh, back.”

She stared at him.  “What are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about...about Frisk’s kid, right?”

“Yeah.  Attie.  You know her name, I know you do.”

He fidgeted.  He didn’t want to be having this conversation, especially not in his own dining room.  If Boss found out…

“Hey.”  Undyne leaned over.  “What the hell is going on in this dingy little apartment, anyways?  I get one story from Papyrus - and he’s my vice-captain; I know exactly how trustworthy he is - and I get another story from you.  What’s your game?”

“...Nothing?  Look.  I...I like the kid, okay?  Yeah, she was a little annoying at first, and I’m not convinced she won’t grow up to be a tyrant to rival Asgore, but...she kinda grew on me.  I tried to do my best with her, but Boss...he got worried.  He didn’t want Attie around someone like - well, like me - any longer than necessary.  I’m an asshole, remember?”

“Hmm.”  She finished up the last of the coffee, tilting the mug back to catch every last drop.  “Y’know, Papyrus can be a manipulative bastard sometimes, but usually I can call his bullshit.  This is just weird.  There’s no motivation for any of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I texted him as soon as I heard that Frisk was released.  We needed security to escort her home and all that, especially since she wasn’t in particularly good shape.  He was in charge of that part.  He showed up with Attie and without you, which was weird.  Said you were tired of watchin’ the kid; to me, at least.  Told Frisk she missed her mom too much.”  She paused, rubbing her eyes.  “Actually...I guess I knew something was up.  Attie’s story didn’t match his, after all, but she’s scared enough of Papyrus that we figured she didn’t have the full story.   Dammit.”

“I mean...it’s not a big deal?”

A forceful punch made a dent in the tabletop.  “It IS a big deal, you ASSHOLE!  My vice-captain lied to me!  I mean, that’s normal - he’s overdue for his annual assassination attempt, after all - but I’m supposed to RECOGNIZE it!  I’m LOSING my EDGE!”

Sans shuffled around the table and took the chair next to Undyne.  He had the weird urge to pat her on the back, like he'd do for Attie when she was upset, but thankfully quashed it.  She’d probably bite his arm off if he tried.  “Hey, it was a weird situation for all of us.  Boss, uh, explained things to me after; I think he was just lookin’ out for the kid.  I’m really not the best caretaker, remember?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Uh, what?”

“What did he ‘explain’ to you about this?”

He thought back to his battle with Boss in the park.  “He, uh, said that Attie was too important to be trusted with me.  He pointed out that...well, I’m not the most reliable guy, y’know?  And Frisk and I haven’t really gotten along.”

Undyne examined him through her single narrowed eye.  “And yet, she snuck out of the house, past our defenses, and wound up here last night.  Now, why would that be?”

She knew about that?  Was it a setup?  “Uh...she was sayin’ thanks?  She thought she owed me somethin’.”

“IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, YOU BAG OF BONES!  She came here because she DOESN’T hate your guts!  She CARES ‘bout you!  You impressed her!  She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

“But I am…”

“SHUT UP.  I’m Captain of the Royal Guard; I’ve seen your employee file.  Your real file.  The one without bizarre grease stains blotting out half the information.”

Sans hadn’t realized he’d missed a copy of those documents.   Good to know.

“I know what you’re capable of.  I know what you’ve done.  Oh, and while we’re on the topic: expect Asgore to give you a call sometime this afternoon about your... other job.”

“Okay…?”

“My point is, you pass yourself off as a lazy asshole.  Heck, most of the time you are a lazy asshole.  But somehow, Frisk saw something different.  Something she, well, doesn’t hate.  She really was grateful that you, y’know, saved her freakin’ life and took care of her kid out of the blue for a couple weeks, and she was a little hurt when you didn’t contact her at all after giving Attie back.  By the way, why didn’t you contact her after...well, after Attie went home?  They haven’t heard from you at all, which backed up what Papyrus said, but when they tried texting you their numbers were blocked. That's just not right.”

“So, uh, Boss kinda...messed with my phone.”

“WHAT?”

“He took off Frisk’s and Attie’s numbers, all the texts, the pictures…”

“WHAT?  Even the ones where we were doing training poses??”

He grabbed the carafe, started another pot of coffee, and scooted down the hallway to grab his phone.  It gave him whiny messages about having a low charge, but it turned on.

“Here,” he said, sliding it in front of Undyne.  “I don’t know how he blocked numbers, though.”  He didn’t want to watch her look through it - the missing pictures and texts still stung - so he retreated back into the kitchen to watch the coffee finish up instead.

He didn’t have many pictures left, so he was still fiddling with the coffee machine when she shrieked in outrage.  “THIS IS AWFUL!  Those were GREAT poses!”

“Yeah.  I sent ‘em to Frisk, y’know; she still has 'em, I bet.  She’d probably send them to you if you wanted.”

“HELL YEAH!  Hey, do you want them too?  You took ‘em, after all.  Even if he’s blocked Frisk’s number somehow, he wouldn’t dare block mine in case I need to text you for work.”

“Better not.  Boss still goes through my phone sometimes; if he finds a pic of Attie he’ll be pissed.”  He brought the full carafe to the table and set it in front of Undyne.  She needed it more than he did, and if it kept her talking…

“Hah.  Never understood why you put up with that bastard.  I mean, I put up with him because he’s got a good head for strategy and he’s a natural leader and I outrank him, but he just yells at you. And beats up on you, if Frisk's right about that.  That’s grounds for you to leave the family.  Why stay?”

“He’s...Boss?  I mean, we’ve always been that way.  Him ‘n me against the world.”

She downed an entire mug of coffee in one go.  “You know the world’s not like that anymore, right?  There’s only so much I can do as his boss, but there are other people willing to - urgh! - help.  Hell, go make puppy eyes at one of those human abuse rehab programs; they literally throw parties every time a monster shows up at their door.  They’d get you set up somewhere else.”

“C’mon,” he sighed, “Does that really sound like me?  Whatever you think you know about me from those files, I gave up a long time ago.”

A strange look grew across Undyne’s face.  It was the same look she wore when she had defeated a particularly challenging enemy, but without the wide-toothed grin.  “Attie misses you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

Sans had no response to that.

“She told me so yesterday morning.  She’s sad that you won’t call her.  Thinks you don’t like her anymore.”

“Undyne, stop.”

“Hmm?  Why should I? I thought it didn't matter. I thought it wasn't a big deal.”

“Look.  It really is better if she just...forgets about me or somethin’.  ‘Sides, Boss said I’m not allowed to even say her name.  How’m I gonna-”

A fishy fist left another dent in the table.  “THAT’S THE POINT!  If Papyrus isn’t around, he’s not your ‘Boss’ anymore, right??  Yeah, I know it’s not normal for us to break up families, even now that we’re on the surface.  And I know that he's the head of your family.  But...sometimes you just gotta pick your battles, okay?  Besides, I KNOW you pay the bills around here.  You can move out any time you like.  File for emancipation so he can’t drag you back and all that.  And then maybe my besties will stop talking my gills off about how much they miss your bony ass.”

The thought of anyone missing his ‘ass’ was laughable, but he felt his skull turning colors anyways.  “I...uh, well, maybe.  I mean, it’s not so bad ‘round here, y’know?  And like you said, we’re family and I pay the bills.  Who’d take care of the ol’ place if I leave?”

“STARS, HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT, WOULD YOU??  THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU!”  She chugged the remainder of the coffee.  “NOW I’VE GOT A CAFFEINE HIGH AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!  I’VE GOTTA RUN THIS OFF BEFORE MY MEETING!  LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE YOUR BASTARD OF A BROTHER!”

She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing around in Sans’s skull.  She had a point, he knew.  There would be plenty of advantages to living alone.  No more punishments, more free time, the ability to cook his own meals…

...missed shifts because he didn’t get out of bed on time, time lost staring into nothing, crippling loneliness…

No, he wasn’t ready to go it alone, no matter how bad things got.  Boss was just...Boss.  Just the same as any other monster.  They were family, and that meant something to monsters.  Abandoning your family meant you were the lowest class of monster, worse than froggits.  Worse than dirt.  If Undyne and Frisk were worried, well, maybe they had forgotten just how bad things had been in the Underground.

He owed Boss, and that debt would never be repaid.

With a heavy soul, he tied his sneakers on and made his way over to his hot dog stand.

Boss, as it turned out, had been summoned by Asgore sometime early in the morning.  Undyne came down from her caffeine high long enough to text Sans about that, and to send him forceful messages in all caps warning him not to repeat anything she said while sleep-deprived.  He smirked.  Over the time he’d been taking care of Attie, Undyne’s attitude towards him had changed.  It was strange, having the excitable and ruthless Captain of the Royal Guard as some kind of...of friend, but it wasn’t bad.  He respected her, actually.

And in light of that respect, he reconsidered her words.  She had said that Attie missed him.  Just the thought of that tugged at his soul.  It shouldn’t have, of course; he’d only known her for such a short time.  And she was a little human kid.  Why should he care about a little human kid?

He deliberately did not think about the kid’s mother.

Luckily, he had bigger problems to take his mind off things.  Just as Undyne had predicted, Asgore called him just after Greater Dog and Lesser Dog stopped by the hot dog stand for lunch.  Sans cleared his nonexistent throat, willing himself to keep calm; the King of Monsters was terrifying, even over the phone.  “Uh, hello, your majesty.”

“Hello, Sans.  I am calling to discuss your return to a job you have not held in quite some time.”

Fear locked his bones.  “Uh, w-which job?”

“Hmm.  You have held several positions, have you not?  I feel that a phone conversation is not the best place to discuss this.  Come to my castle in the Underground immediately.”

“Y-yes, your maj-”

The king had already hung up.  Sans texted Undyne with shaking fingers, letting her know that he’d be late to his sentry shift due to a meeting with the king, then sent the same to Boss.  Better safe than sorry.

He grabbed a spare ‘dog and closed down the stand.  A sudden thought prompted him to glance down; he was still in his pyjamas.

Teleporting from an alley to his room saved him a lot of time and potential embarrassment.  He listened closely, but everything seemed quiet; with any luck, Boss was occupied elsewhere.  A sharp ding from his phone made him jump, but it was just Undyne telling him to take the first of his shifts off.

He changed into his button-down shirt and slacks, still clean from the last time he wore them, then stepped into a shortcut.  He couldn’t teleport all the way to the top of Mount Ebott - even if the distance wasn’t too much, there were magical protections in place - so he went in stages.  His first teleport brought him to his favorite lookout spot, just a short jog from the sentry station he handled most often.

The air was crisp and cool and the forest smelled like winter.  From his lookout spot he could see the town laid out below, rows and rows of houses and hospitals and schools and businesses tied together by thin veins of black.  There was a bit of activity in the streets, probably humans and monsters getting ready for Christmas (and maybe Takersfaire, if the monsters were feeling bold), but it was barely noticeable from such a distance.

A slight breeze wiggled its way between his bones as he walked towards his station.  There were two barriers on Mount Ebott: one just below the sentry stations, and one closer to the entrances where the original once stood.  The first - designed to alert sentries when someone approached the mountain - didn’t do anything in particular to block normal entry but he couldn’t teleport through it.  It was annoying to have to stop, walk through the barrier manually, then teleport again, but it was an old routine and he managed.

The second barrier, the one that protected the Underground from most intrusions, was one of his least favorite spots in the whole world.  It was almost entirely Frisk’s work.  Her magic always felt hostile against his bones; no matter how many times he climbed the mountain, he was always a little afraid that her barrier would refuse him entry...or dust him outright.

It was a surprise, then, when he didn’t feel the familiar crackle of angry magic as he approached.  Worry niggled at the back of his mind; had Frisk not refreshed it recently?  It had been a month since she was released from the hospital; surely she’d climbed the mountain at some point...right?  King Asgore still lived Underground most of the time, after all, and she loved him like a father despite everything.

The low hum of powerful human magic filtered slowly into his senses, more noticeable the closer he got.  Within arm’s reach of the barrier, it was so strong that it rattled his bones a little.  It felt nothing at all like he expected.  He carefully held out one hand towards the barrier, and found…

Gentle.  Welcoming.  “Hi, Sans!”

“What the hell?”  This...wasn’t normal.  Actually, what had Undyne said?

“She CARES ‘bout you!  You impressed her!  She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

...Yeah, Frisk had refreshed the barrier, alright.  He felt his entire skull turning colors.  Beads of sweat began to form under his collar and his breathing picked up.

Magic, even Frisk’s weird human magic, dealt a lot with intent.  When he and Frisk had been passive-aggressive enemies - and they had been as long as he could remember, exchanging japes and the occasional harsh word off and on - her intentions toward him had been wary and antagonistic.  Now…

Well.

Sans crossed the barrier and stepped into a shortcut before he could think too hard.

A pool of brilliant light met him on the other side.  Once upon a time this had probably been a majestic hallway, a tribute to the golden sun the monsters hadn’t seen for generations, but with so many more urgent problems and a general lack of reliable builders it had fallen into disrepair.  By the time he had seen it for the first time it had been half-buried and caved in, more of an obstacle to reaching the palace than an entryway.  It had only gotten worse over the years.

Now, it looked like someone was in the process of repairing the old place.  Most of the rubble had been cleared out and the weak parts of the ceiling and walls had been reinforced with scaffolding.  The shattered stained glass windows had been removed; lead scraps were piled in a corner, waiting to be repurposed.  The artificial light sources were harsh without the scraps of color the broken windows had provided.

The world...really was changing.

“Sans?” a deep voice boomed through the hallway, shattering his reverie.  “Come through to the throne room.  You and I have business to discuss.”

[swampgallows]

i need help. i cant do anything. even in europe all i did was trail behind. i didnt book anything or research anything. i just followed along. everybody else planned everything and i just followed behind.

i dont know what will happen to me without coverage. i need to make calls but i dont know what will happen. i really need help and i really want to be able to do things without my parents. there is so much my parents dont know and that i dont feel safe telling them. there is so much i dont trust my parents with but they control everything. they dont even know i quit my job because i was going to kill myself. ir eally want to get help. and i really need to get help. and i feel like the only way i can truly do it is if im entirely removed from this environment for an extended period of time. i thought europe would be the thing to help me enough but during the last few days when i realized i was going to have to come back here i started panicking and getting sick. and since i got home my body has been rejecting even the most mild of foods (oatmeal, applesauce, eggs and toast) and i cant sleep for more than a few hours at a time, at random. and i cant focus on anything again, and i only managed to draw something for a little bit when my mom was at the hospital again. 

i hate that i cant do anything alone but i feel like when im by myself i’ll disappear. but even when im with people i fall out of existence and stop being a person. i cant be here. im struggling to be here any more as a person. 

i had canceled my wow subscription (i guess?) so it wouldnt charge me while i wasnt playing and i havent started it back up again yet. i opened hots but i didnt play it. i cant even play video games. 

i really need help. i really need to get somewhere where i can be away from this environment and get help or im just going to sit in my bed until i die. im dissociated more than im grounded  nowadays, even on the trip. if eel like unless im in a super safe and time-constrained situation (like a rave or at a restaurant?? or something) i cant be a human being. like i have to have a scripted event and i cant exist outside of it. i dont know what to do with myself unless im being perceived or something like that. 

i hate writing about this stuff on tumblr but it’s making me lose my mind if i dont get it out somehow. it’s just spinning in my head and all i can do is sit here. it’s 4 in the morning and i thought about cleaning my room to do something productive while not having to be a person, per se, but it’s 4am and it would be too loud. i thought about getting in my car and driving around a little while the streets are super empty but my mom is awake and sitting by the door.

im so fucking sick of my parents knowing about every single thing i do. i cant be a person independent of them if i cant do or say anything without them knowing. and even if i put up my middle finger and say like FUCK YOU IM DOING THIS like my sister does it doesnt matter, in the end they still control everything and they still KNOW. i still have to come back to their house to go to bed, and even if im gone for days they know im gone. my sister is looking into renting a place with her shitty chaotic boyfriend (even though she swore up and down that she would NEVER move in with him) just so she doesnt have to fucking live here. AND SHE’S 29 AND I’M 27 WE SHOULDNT HAVE TO STILL LIVE WITH OUR PARENTS BUT NO ONE IN MY GENERATION CAN AFFORD TO MOVE OUT WITHOUT LIVING WITH 9 STRANGERS FOR 800 A MONTH EACH, AND THOSE NUMBERS ARE NOT EXAGGERATED

it was such a relief when i was in europe to just not check in with them at all or have to tell them anything. not even ‘hey i’m here safe!’ fuck you. i barely even posted on facebook about it except for checking in to places on swarm, and not to tell them, but just to do it, because it’s what i’d do anyway. “thanks for the update” my sister wrote, like i was supposed to tell them sooner. it’s none of their fucking business. they are not part of the equation at all. i bought the plane ticket, i paid for my share of the hotel and hostel and apartment, AND i was planning to drive myself to nate’s house until my mother fucking berated me about it and dropped me off instead (they were using my car that week anyway). 

my sister is on a career path and so is my brother and im not. i havent tried learning coding again in a while. i really do not have anything to live for, im not in love with anybody and i have no dreams and i dont even want to get married really and i DEFINITELY do not want children, i still feel like a child, i feel too helpless and stupid to do anything, my art is WAY below the professional level and i couldnt even fulfill all the commissions i took, i barely even draw for myself. i dont do anythign for myself. i cant even take care of myself. im full of self-destructive impulses maybe because i feel like if it gets bad enough my parents will give a shit about me, or something, but they dont, or they cant, theyre incapable. i think about all the healing i have to do and all the trauma ive been through and how my mother takes even that away from me, using it to further her own self-flagellation about what a bad mother she is. even if i killed myself, my suicide would matter to her more as a means to further punish herself than as a loss of my life. and i know this because when i was hit by the car and didnt have the self-preservation to call for help or do anything, all she did was scream at me at the top of her lungs and then complain about what a bad mother she was that she apparently never taught us to call our parents.

i had to throw up when we were driving back to lax to drop cookies off and i thought i could make it. i puked all over myself, bad, in nate’s car, and he said, “you need to just tell me if you have to and i’ll pull over.” and i legitimately didnt even think of that. i am so accustomed to just suffering in silence and then getting punished afterward that i didnt do a solid for myself or for my friends by just giving a heads up about what was happening to me. i just let it happen and dealt with the consequences. and that thought really unnerved me. why didnt i say something? did i really think he would get mad at me for asking, for having the audacity to get sick? was i embarrassed??? well i was sure as fuck embarrassed for puking all over myself like a fucking infant, so why didnt i just say something? like who the fuck does that? i just sat there fighting it, thinking it would go away, instead of saying like “dude, can we pull over? i think im gonna throw up.” maybe i didnt want to be an inconvenience, or ruin the good time, or be needy, or draw attention to myself, or possibly make cookies late for her plane (she had more than enough time and it wouldnt have been a problem at all. pulling over for a minute wouldnt have mattered. we werent even on the freeway.) so why didn’t i even think to say something?

i was never like this. i was never somebody who didnt stand up for myself.

or was i? i dont know. i have avenged people in the past, speaking up for them when they didnt have anyone on their side, so why cant i speak up for myself? i didnt say anything when i was being molested, or raped, but i was just a child. but ive been ground down more and more to be more subservient, quieter, helpless, and the few times i try to defend myself or make a stand or speak up i end up saying a very wrong thing or being extremely rude or just embarrassing myself by saying something foolish. or i come off as aggressive. 

aggression.

i have nothing so i have nothing to ground me and nothing with which to assert myself. as time goes on i feel weaker and weaker, more and more feeble and like i need permission to be alive. i cant be open with my family about nearly any of my beliefs or interests, hence why i am so fervent and adamant them in spaces that i can be (like, here, for instance, blogging until i am blue in the face about warcraft and dumb rave shit). in person i feel foolish among other wow fans, who play the game better than i do and know more about the lore than i do, and i am made to feel like an imposter (FUCK YOU spellcheck i prefer the -er) or an idiot or a “fake fan” or like “wow you dedicate so much of your life to this and you still dont know a fucking thing, what a loser, what a moron”. and i feel that way about rave shit too. hanging around other DJs and shit who know so much more about their specific areas, things im not necessarily against knowing but havent really done the research on my own, i feel like i’m nothing, too.

i dont have any worthwhile qualities and especially nothing that i’m capable of doing to a lucrative or productive degree. i have a worthless art degree, speaking of which, after 5 interminable soul-crushing years at a university that ground me in its teeth and made me feel like i belonged as a smear on the pavement. and then i almost was that after being hit by a car during what was supposed to be my final semester. 

im just really not supposed to be here and i have nothing to offer. and i know nobody is “supposed” to be here but i dont even have the means to act like it or to make myself useful. i cant even be useful to myself. i cant even do the things i have an inkling of wanting to do. i just start hitting myself or crying even when i try to do the things that will make me happy. the amount of times ive been at my tables mixing away and then beating the shit out of myself at the slightest mistake and having to sit in the bath for an hour to calm down are innumerable. drawing isn’t as violent, unless im interrupted, in which case it becomes a heavy weight, like an anvil on my forehead, screaming about all the time i was wasting, and how i spent x hours on this and it still looks like shit or it’s completely pointless or “oh orcs again how fucking original you fucking cuntrag of course your favorite is the inexcusably evil and violent genocidal piece of shit character you constantly try to “fix” in your head and make excuses for because youre a broken worthless idiot addicted to abuse since being used is the only function you have in this world”

im kind of glad r/incel was banned because i was developing kind of a hate-read addiction to seeing screenshots on here. i never went to the reddit itself but being raised on that kind of mentality brought back a lot of feelings, and i was trying to train myself to just laugh at those posts, but so many people like that have ruined me in the past that i ended up feeling like i had a duty to “hear” them out. i was practically raised by men who would now be classified as “incels” and that rhetoric comprised a bulk of my understanding about sexuality, especially when my introduction to the entire concept of sex was through entitlement via rape. i thought letting myself be abused was some act of altruism, and that men wanting to possess me was something admirable and validating, especially since i was so ugly, that they in turn were being charitable by allowing themselves to be associated with me, that the least i could do was let them get some kind of pleasure out of it. 

sure i didnt know any better as a child but im still fighting these feelings as an adult. i cant even navigate my own feelings about men. the pirate wants to go to bar sinister again on saturday (with smee, luckily) but i still cant feel out if it’s a date or not, and i still cant decide whether or not i’m comfortable with it being a date, since i dont know what attraction is, i dont want to hurt the guy’s feelings, and i’d like to stay friends, and i dont want to make him mad, and i dont want to lead him on either, and i DONT KNOW WHY i am basically arguing with myself as to whether or not i should ‘let this happen’, that i should just allow something to happen to me, again, because i “pursued” this man enough to let him know i wanted to get to know him better and hang with him outside of just seeing him on the bus, but i do not believe i have ever consciously pursued someone romantically IN MY LIFE (and if i did i was the last to know i was doing it). i have never had the thought “I want to date this person” because i dont fucking know what dating is, i dont know what anything is, i dont fucking know anything, i am not someone who would intentionally make a “First Move” on someone in the way of “wow i want to kiss this person so i had better get to know them better” like they do in the movies.

ultimately i guess i cannot ever imagine someone respecting me and being reciprocal with me. cannot ever imagine someone wanting to be around me for me and not because of some ulterior motive, like that theyre in love with me because of some shit emotional labor they squeezed out of me or some naive infatuation theyve conjured up in their heads about how we’re going to be married someday even if i explicitly reject them outright on several separate occasions, or how they’re so emotionally stunted that me being a cordial human being and sharing a trace of interest with them (wow youre a girl, AND you play video games? AND you have hooves?) translates into a crush because they have zero boundaries or understanding of women. 

cause like, im a fucking disaster area. i dont even want to be around me. i cannot even look at myself in the mirror, my insecurity is volatile, i’m incredibly unstable and i have no self-preservation or means of independence. if you want to be dragged down in every facet possible, look no further: i am a living embodiment of trench foot. so because i deem myself having no value i dont see why anyone else could. which is why im comfortable with traces of platonic shit and why social media is perfect. it’s meaningful enough interaction to let me know that i, individually, have value, but superficial and ephemeral enough to know it’s not because anyone has any weird fucking obsession with or bias toward me. my art appears on their dash in a flash and if they like it, they like it, and that’s it. they dont gotta say shit, and it’s an entirely objective Unit of Value not based on any expected performance from me or my identity as a human being. Just, deemed worthy, and if they add their own addendum or something it’s because they’re contributing to something larger, not directly feeding into my ego/personhood. 

and in turn, on my blog i can provide whatever sort of content i want without expectation and at the end of the day even if it goes unnoticed, im not doing it for any means to an end so ultimately its impact is irrelevant. like, thank fucking god. my blog doesnt provide a service to people where they expect some kind of Product, and they can opt out at any time. as long as im not going around hurting people (and obviously i would never want to do that) my blog doesnt matter, and i dont have to matter. 

“you matter”. fuck off. maybe i dont want to matter. maybe im better off just being a transient, tied to nothing and no one to keep from burdening anybody or burdening myself by feeling like i have to be fucking “useful” all the time. 

for how truly invisible i feel all the time, it’s ironic how much i wish i could be.

[brieflyrainytheorist-blog]

Brain farts....

So to turn to a cathartic exercise, I write to try and process my brain.

Let me explain myself.

My story is a long one, too long to go into detail for now but to summarise…. my life started to change from a chaotic dysfunctional everlasting death wish to something that I feared and had no experience of….functionality

Or what appeared to be functional as I observed the rest of the ‘normal’ human race in the 1st world do.

Straight out of rehab, I almost immediately jumped into a relationship… initially had no intention of it having any longevity, after all I was so damaged-who would want me or more importantly put up with me.

But he did and 16 years of the relationship lasted somehow, producing 2 beautiful children.

But it wasn't enough for me. I didn't love him. I loved who he was and I think that is different, he was my constant, he was my secure base if I'm looking from a psychological theory aspect but I didn't love him which bred contempt.

I think, or at least I'm currently experiencing, I am a sexual creature who loves the feel of another human being.

I didn't in this relationship, it was an act to just get pure primal needs met and in the 16 years we were together, I probably actually slept in the same bed for 1 1/2 years of the relationship.

He didn't do oral sex so nor did i. I’d accepted that as normal. Sex never got more exciting than missionary, don't get me wrong, there were periodic glimpses of passion but few and far between. Since leaving the relationship and having had some good sex since I'm still stunned I accepted that for such a long time.

After 5 years of the relationship, I had grown as a person, starting to discover some resemblance of self worth, not much, but it was there and I felt guilt for this relationship, knowing I was always looking elsewhere but not actually acting on it.

I attempted to end it and was greeted with a sobbing, begging person, promising to try harder and please not to leave him……Oh shit…. I was NOT expecting that. I felt so bad, I agreed to try and carry on.

I think from that moment onwards that had sealed fate for this relationship. He then was waiting for the inevitable and I was so wracked with guilt from seeing a broken man cry…. I carried on slightly resentful for another 11 years.

We both grew separately in this time in other areas of our lives and I think that was what we were good at as a couple, we encouraged each other to better ourselves, we both individually slowly nurtured a growing self worth, just not enough to be able to let go of each other. Two children knowing something wasn't right but unable to be honest about what that was.

The eventual end could have been dealt with better by myself as I chose one of his most vulnerable times of his life. 3 days after his father died.

This not only demonstrates my selfish nature but also my inability to hold onto things until I burst and have to act.

I was expecting a repeat of what had happened when I ended it before. But nothing, no resistance, no begging and no tears.

In fact the only tears were mine of guilt.

He very quickly got into another relationship and is still in it. He cannot be honest with me about how serious it is but for a rebound, it’s been at least a year and a half. 

This stings me repeatedly. He wanted to walk leaving everything, take nothing of the 16 years we had built together. I could not understand. Still struggle with that but I'm guessing it's a preservation for him.

We still communicate-ish. On a very basic level in terms of the children.

I get angry when he talks about his new relationship and he throws money at me to try and keep me ? Happy ? Quiet.

So now I'm free…. What to do with that? Actually my solid base is now gone and that scares me, I could literally do anything. Although I now know that I have the ability to be a functional human being in this world, as I have been proving this to myself over and over again, it has taken my emotions right back to that dysfunctional being who had no filters. The primal me.

So In my best decision making ability - NOT, I hit the dating sites with vengeance.

Sex is disposable, can be the most primal thing on earth and it is so good when you find someone who knows what they are doing.

Before I start, i have written exclusively about men here, but i am Bi, I just haven't entered back into that world yet. It scares me a little, i may decide that actually it’s a woman that I want need after all….However I do like cock, too much to let it go.

I like a man to take the lead but due to my dubious past, I have also had a lot of experience and am open to a lot of things to hit my pleasure zones.

The thing I struggle with is the emotions. Is it even possible to separate the natural chemicals produced by seeing the same person repeatedly?

I have tested the waters with different men and if they are good, i repeat, if they are not i don’t…

My situation so far on the ones that have left some form of impact on me

I accidentally bumped into a guy, that initially had no interest in really. Then I fucked him. Holy shit!! He hit every physical button he could.  Maybe it wasn't even that good but I have been starved of my bodily feeling that way I clung on like a limpet.

Mentally and emotionally not really there initially and if I'm honest, not really physically attracted to him other than what he did in bed.

So he has just ended this ‘thing’ we have been doing for the past month-essentially 3 weeks of fucking pretty much every other day.

He tells me he wants a relationship now and the fuck buddy thing is not for him and that our wants are different.

I don't want to jump into another relationship so soon. I want to explore this awakening of my sexuality before the menopause kicks in and I have no interest any more.

But I do want emotional human contact too that is more than a friendship level… Maybe I want my cake and eat it? I can be very selfish sometimes.

I feel hurt from this rejection and my emotional maturity isn't at the place where I can be rational about it, My head tells me that he has spotted I am fundamentally damaged and that he’s not going to go there.

Of course i have made it all about me…again selfish

I’m struggling to let go of this rejection.

He’s a sweet bloke and I actually admire that he can show that level of emotional awareness to know when to back out until he finds what he wants. I hope he does… the child in me tell me he wont find such great sex again…. But thats my bolshy streak! Its how you know to get the best out of a situation i guess……

So meanwhile in a different reality but parallel to the one I've been talking about…. I am still on the dating sites…. Yes, fuck boy is right really, I don't particularly want exclusivity unless the world collide and makes me see that this is the ‘one’ whatever fantasy realm that exists in….

I have been speaking to someone for quite a while now,  a lot longer that fuck boy has been around and I love talking to him. I call him the Brain. I haven't met him and I'm almost afraid to as I don't want to lose what we have got in his company of chat.

We speak most days, some days all day long.

He hits my emotional intelligence level, I think anyway, I can cum when just thinking about conversations we have had. Trouble is if I meet him, I'm so afraid the chemistry wont be there. This is what you don't get chatting.

There is intellectual chemistry no doubt. But it boils down to physical again.

I don’t even know what he truly looks like either. He won't show me another picture. I don't entirely trust that he is single either.

Im afraid of losing him or the persona that he has created for me.

There is another boy, and I use that word loosely due to the fact he is 29, 14 years younger than me who tells me he wants to fuck me… he’s new. I think I might try him. No long term intention….

And then there is Chris. Chris was one of the first I started with. Again I haven't met him, I was going to but he bottled it.

He’s sweet but brings out the punisher in me. I kind of like stringing him along. I’m a bitch right? I may still fuck him but I like the fact he still try to get me to meet him. I told him it was 2 strikes and then out and he bottled both times.

He has narcolepsy, the nurse in me wants to know if he will crash while I'm fucking him…. Yes, I’m a perv!!

There are others that I'm chatting to but no-one who has made any sort of impact.

What do I get from it all?

I guess there are multiple levels of stuff.

Firstly validation that I cannot obtain for myself. 

The physical aspect forfils my physical and sexual desires. Thats chemical.

There is also an element of punishment in there too. A shame shock if you like. It challenges all my catholic guilt that I seem to lug around like a sack of rubble.

If I enter something and get rejected it validates my core belief that I am mad, bad and unlovable. There is some sort of sick investment in there that keeps me mentally unwell. Maybe I like that as it defines me to myself.