Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's 6 am. One glance outside the window left you wondering why the sun wasn't rising yet, but the rain that suddenly pelted against the glass quieted those thoughts. 

Even though your television was permanently set on the weather channel, you're definitely sure it said zero percent chance of rain. This station was never helpful and you'd change the channel if you could but you were never really sure where the remote went... Looked everywhere for the damn thing. Maybe the fey had a bone to pick with you and decided to take it just to watch you struggle. 

"Troublesome little fuckers..." You mumbled. You rubbed your jaw with your left hand and your other laying limp in your lap, waiting to be wrapped in the last of your bandages that you replaced every day, but today you were procrastinating. It gets boring doing this every day since your arm started growing back, right now, from the elbow to the tips of your fingers, the thing was all bone. You're just waiting for the muscle to take.

After you finish wrapping the bindings, then comes the gloves with those little grippers. The cloth was annoyingly voluminous, which made it hard as hell to get the gloves on, but if you wanted to open up doors and use your phone, then you needed to do this.

Y' see, This whole debacle happened a few months ago, freelancing for constructors’ here and there who were down a few people due to common workplace accidents. That’s where you come in. The pay is good due to the high casualty rate and all that, but it seems no matter how you roll the bones, they always come up snake-eyes.

Now, why they were teaching the newbie how to work a backhoe indoors will never make any lick of sense no matter how many ways they phrase it. You weren’t even going to begin to question how he managed to hit the only stack of steel poles next to the only other person in the warehouse, subsequently crushing their whole arm and with no possible chance of recovery, the doctors needed to amputate.

That unlucky fucker was you. 

Your arm would be completely back by now if they hadn't completely cut it off, but what were you supposed to say? Nooooo Doctor, don't cut off my meat bag of bone dust no human could possibly ever recover from, just let it dangle there until I die a natural death~. 

That would raise too many questions.

It's like fate herself decided to fuck you sideways with her wooden staff- sword- er... whatever the humans were drawing her with these days. To be honest, you aren't actually sure she's a real deity... Nonetheless, you were gonna stay annoyed with her in your head.

At that point you were out of what was supposed to be a year-long well paying job, so, you packed all your shit into a bag and made a call to one of your friends that owed you a big favor, you were gonna cash-in for a mansion up in Ebott. Though, you were only renting, so you did what she asked of you to keep that good rent-free ball rolling! Your hospital fees had already been paid by the company, so there wasn’t much of a point in staying at the place you were living in any way. There are always new places to explore.

Now here you are and today is perfect.

So you launched yourself from the couch, immediately scurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. Upon entering, you were all too aware of the mess you decided months ago you would clean up "later". A pile of clothes, some dirty some clean, were in a mound on your chair that you sat on every day regardless if there were clothes on it or not.  There was a wide variety of books that sat on the shelf above your desk, most of them very old, and others you found in dumpsters and the like. But one, in particular, you've had since the day you set out on your own two hundred years ago.

It was bound by hand, with a nice leather (faux?) finish and your name carved on the front. Flipping through the front reminded you of your days as a vagabond, never really being able to find a job but content with whatever happened anyway. Now you lived in Mt. Ebott with a job as a lifeguard during the summer that you've been doing for over a decade or two now because you saved the owner's, previous owner's, previous owner-

Oh, gods above, it's hurting your head to even think of how that all went down. The point is you saved a man's life and now he and his sons and daughters that inherit the place let you come back around as a thank you, and really, it was the best-case scenario.

Ahem, as you were saying.

A really long ass time ago you decided to go on a long journey of self-discovery, and, to keep things in the short-term, your father was a god and your mother a mortal. Now here you are some odd years or so later trying to figure yourself out in the wildest way possible.

This leather-bound book was a list through A-Z of all the powers you knew of currently. You dragged your nail down the coffee-stained paper, flipping through it a few times, trying to find where you left off. Finally, you landed on a page labeled under "N's" which was covered in brackets and flower doodles like many of the pages before it.

The pen writing was smudged but still easy to make out and your eyes scan down the list.

Nature Enhancement

Necrokinesis

Aha!

Necromancy

You were, what some would call aware that raising the dead is a crime against life itself, and if a reaper caught you, you'd be in pretty deep shit. Assuming you can actually necromance... Is necromancy a skill you learn or one your born with? You know what? You don't really care. 

Flicking away the stinkbug that always manages to find its way onto your keyboard, you frantically tapped away to find the place of the closest gravesite. You had already been preparing for this moment for about a week. Spread out on your bed were borrowed old grimoires (some so heavy they made the mattress dip), co-written by necromancers and mages, and just average library books in hopes that you'd find something to help you. 

You looked for old gravesites that had been long since abandoned, for the bodies reduced to only bones and ash. It was easy, for the most part. Tourists love to visit places like that for some reason, but it just gave you the willies. At least this way you wouldn't have to deal with guts and innards. 

Let's see... the closest gravesite was a few hours away... you could make it there and back and be home for dinner! You mapped out your journey on your phone so you would be ready by the time you made it outside.

Upon glancing outside, you realized it started raining harder, and while most plans would be canceled in this kind of weather, it did nothing but make it all more important that you do it today.

Picking up your journal, you positioned it between your hands, flicking your pinkie finger backward. The book vanished into a pocket realm that you've had since you decided to try "summoning", it was on the list, but you liked to jump around a bit when you found something cool. 

Object summoning is actually a lot cooler than it sounds. You've never tried anything bigger than a suitcase (it makes traveling WAY easier) but now that you're considering it, you gotta test the limits eventually! 

Soon enough, you were popping out the front door and sprinting towards your sports bike. It was a deep green that blended to the background of the forest. Water pooled in the seat cover, but you came prepared! You, in fact, are already wearing a bright yellow raincoat with a hood. That's not something you see every day!

You sat down and gracefully put the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and seemed to echo among the surrounding forest before it quieted to just a rumble.

Damn, am I overcompensating for something? 

You smirked at yourself before speeding off.

The gravel crunched beneath your tires as you transferred from your driveway to the main roads. It was much smoother here, barely any potholes like you'd see on your way into the city. Trees completely surrounded you in a thick forest that stretched on for miles, the leaves appearing greener, healthier even than the ones near your house. On the ground in front of you, light filtered through the leaves above dancing and shining like the sun was one big disco ball and this was a fairy dance.

You, in your immense state of boredom, tapped your fingers on the handles, humming a light tune you couldn't hear. Your left hand fiddled absentmindedly with the radio before the sweet, sweet sound of Cherry Pie blared from its speakers. 

Oh fuck yeah. It's been a while since I've heard this absolute bop.

You sang along to its catchy tune, wiggling the handlebars lightly so the motorcycle swerved in a serpentine motion. 

"SHE'S MY CHERRY PIE!" You felt the wind in your hair,

"COOL DRINK OF WATER WHAT A SWEET SURPRISE!" The chilly breeze on your skin,

"TASTES SO GOOD MAKE A GROWN MAN CRY!" The somewhat sweet aroma of gas at your nose,

"SWEET CHERRY PIE, AW YEAH!" You had to resist the urge to fist bump because damn this song hits. 

The thunderous boom of the speakers distracted you for long enough that when you came to, the trees going by in a blur. A quick glance at the speedometer- HOLY SHIT. 102 MPH?!?! 

You knew about your lead foot, but you never knew it was this bad when nobody was watching. You eased your foot off the gas but didn't bother with the breaks. You were just gonna cruise until you got there.

At some point, the rain had stopped, but you didn't seem to notice.

***

 Here it was. The graveyard. You can't say you've never been in one, but you've never visited one in roughly a century. Suffice to say, you made it so there was no reason to visit them. No friends, no family. You've been pretty successful too. Except for... the whole necromancy thing. 

The dark, angry clouds above growled in discontent, bright flashes of lightning illuminating your face as a warning to leave while you still have time. You held your head high, even though the consequences of continuing would be a shitty, life-threatening ride home. 

You hid your bike strategically behind a thicket of trees. You didn't need some curious passersby wondering what exactly you were doing in an abandoned cemetery. Your mind flicked across the idea of what would happen if they found what you were doing. Sorcery is considered highly illegal and punishable by death, but nobody's seen a sorcerer in, what, like a few hundred years?

It's not like you wanted to do this, anyway. You just had to cover all the bases.

You flipped your backpack off of your shoulder, glass jars clinking as you pulled them out, one by one, various ingredients you can't remember the names of, now lined up in front of you.

Last, but not least, you plucked a golden bowl from your bag. It seemed to shimmer in the dark, its hazy glow appearing even when the lightning doesn't flash, and out of habit you tapped the side of the bowl with your nail, the metallic ringing calming your nerves. 

The first one was a pink substance that boils behind the glass. You grunted and wheezed, trying to get the damn jar open. Who the fuck closed this, a bodybuilder? In a flash, it popped open, the liquid fanning outwards from the force, spreading around the forest floor. Only half the jar making it into the bowl, the rest seeping deep into the earth. 

Next came blue sludge, you tipped it over fully and it stuck to the bottom of the glass like five-year-old grape jelly. You gave the bottom a hard whack, the sludge immediately dislodging itself and submerging into the pink liquid, letting out a ferocious scream. You quickly slammed your hands over your ears, feeling hot blood trickle out. 

When the screaming finally let up, you grabbed the whisk and stirred them together, the sludge only making silly putty fart sounds, which, surprisingly, did nothing to help your mood. 

Finally came the last ingredient. From a beautiful snot green bottle was Mountain Dew, and everybody knows it's strong enough to wake anything from the dead- and you just made that up. Worth a shot though. 

You slowly poured the green toxin over your Deadly (alive-y?) Mix. The previously thick texture being reduced to nothing but grey slush that swirled on its own in the wooden bowl.

You finally stood up, the grey liquid lapping at the sides of the bowl, almost like it was trying to escape. You walked to the closest grave, dry, yellowed grass crunching underfoot. The only place life seemed to grow here was where the bodies were kept. Strange. 

You transferred the liquid onto the olive green grass in the shape of a pentagram. At first, the thick substance mellowed on the top of the grass before quickly plunging into the depths of the dirt. Then a minute went by. Then five… 

You subconsciously smacked your lips. Wait, when did they get so cracked? You glided your thumb over the damaged skin before frantically searching your pockets for your chapstick. Left? Right? Back pocket… back pocket… damn. 

Your eyes drifted to the bowl on the ground, about a handful of a drink still in it. 

You smacked your dry lips again. 

No guts no glory. 

Hah. 

Fuck it.

Bottoms up. 

***

Your eyes flashed open in an instant. The wet grass beneath your body soaking into your clean clothes and muddying your knees where the rips in your jeans were. Your left leg was hooked around the seat of the fallen bike while the other was spread in the other direction. You pushed yourself to your feet, joints cracking in dismay of your sleeping habits, but to be honest it doesn't feel like you've slept in days.

You tore your phone from your coat pocket, quickly eyeing the time, 3:36 am, then the percentage, 4%. Huh. 4 percent? That's new. This phone usually lasted for days, not to mention it was at 100% when you left the house. You just shrugged it off, happy it didn't take any water damage.

You stood up, dusting the dirt off your jeans before turning around.

You made eye contact with a skeleton about a foot shorter than you. He wore what appeared to be black chest armor that fits snug to his bones and stopped right where his ribcage ended, leaving his spine exposed. So a crop top with booty shorts AND that huge WWE lookin' ass belt, you're sure you had a summer outfit that would match his perfectly. The purple bandana that was tied loosely around his neck (but not without care) was the only thing on his body that looked damaged, he must have had it for years.

His arms crossed over his chest and his permanent scowl twitched deeper the longer you looked. 

"Hello?" 

"FINALLY. FOR A MOMENT I WAS WORRIED YOUR PUNY HUMAN BRAIN HAD STOPPED-" He blinked. How...? Hmm. Maybe raising the dead had more complications than you were ready for. "WHAT? NO COWARDLY RUNNING AWAY LIKE THE OTHERS?" 

A smile erupted onto your face regardless. 

"WOW! I honestly never thought this would have worked but I mean look at you! I know necromancy is a dying art and all butthisturnedoutreallygreat!!" You practically beamed in pride! Who knew necromancy could be so easy? 

His face contorted from confusion to anger like a crack of lightning.

"I'M NOT DEAD YOU PEABRAIN! IS EVERY HUMAN IN THIS FUCKING TOWN AS STUPID AS YOU ARE, OR ARE YOU JUST AN OUTLIER?!"  He shook his fist as close to your face as he could reach. You weren't sure how his voice could get any louder, but you saw a few crows off in the distance scatter from their tree.

You ignored the barrage of insults.

"So... you're sure that you're not dead?" You didn't think it was possible for him to look angrier.

"YES! WHY WOULDN'T I BE SURE?" You could tell he was insulted, and that you fucked up. Just a little. 

"Well, I mean cause ya," You looked down at his spine, "Ya know, you got uh, everything hanging out there," You gestured at him, waving your hand in frantic circles.

"I'M ONE OF THOSE "MONSTERS" FROM UNDER MT. EBOTT. YOU MUST HAVE HEARD OF THE MALEFICENT SCAR!" Damn. If looks could kill. "RING ANY BELLS IN THERE?" 

Oh. 

You tapped at your chin in thought, letting your bottom lip jut out to pretend you were thinking harder than you were, trying to not show how flustered you were from probably coming off as, well for lack of a better word, rude as fuck.

"Mmmm, No. You seem more like a Cherry to me," 

"EXCUSE ME?" 

"Hmm yeah, the Cruel Cherry has a better ring to it-" You began picking up your motorcycle, dusting off the seat.

"DON'T IGNORE ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU-!" He stomped his foot into the ground, splashing mud onto your jeans.

"Or the Cerious Cherry!" You did little jazz hands, letting your bike rest on your hip before walking it up to the road, the skeleton in tow. 

"SERIOUS DOESN'T START WITH A 'C'!" His arms rested angrily on his hips while you sat on your bike.

"Can I treat you to some tea later?" Your question caught him off-guard because he clamped his mouth shut. "You know, for coming off as rude." 

You didn't give him a chance to speak before handing him a piece of paper with your number on it. He swiped it from your fingers, and you watched as his eyelights scanned over the numbers, like, three times.

"It's a date, then?" His eyes flicked up to see your shit-eating grin before you started your bike, tearing out of the little spot you were in and back out onto the road before you gave him a chance to respond. 

"THE MALEFICENT SCAR WOULD NEVER GO ON A DATE WITH A MERE HUMAN!"

Neither of you noticed the tall figure standing in the trees.  

Chapter Text

Chapter Warnings

Mild Gore?

The rocks growled under your tires as you pulled your motorcycle from the driveway to the garage. Water sloshed out of your boots as you went to the switch to close the garage door, pooling into the spots where your own personal cementing job had gone wrong. The whole floor was completely uneven! You're glad Casey hasn't come to visit before you touched it up... there's no telling how he'd react to something that wasn't done professionally...

You shook off the thought before looking out the window and what was about to make your life 10x harder than it had to be. 

100 yards of a hedge maze separated you from your own house. Looming and ominous, not easy to bypass unless you knew the way through it already, and the problem here isn't remembering the way through it, the problem is that the rain is pouring harder than it was when you got home. Despite those things being 3 times the size of you, they didn't block any weather. 

Here you were, at the door. 

You slammed it open, making a dead sprint for the entrance of the maze, shoes spraying mud up the sides of your pants. You veered left, right, another right, left, and right. Te leaves on the bushes held sturdy against the wind, almost as if they were made out of solid brick, but It'd be stupid to think-

Your toe slammed against a rock lodged in the mud. The ground went out from under you as you slicked through the mud and on to the wet grass and into the harsh hedges. Your head was in an uncomfortable position slanted against the ground, the rest of your body suspended in the air like some cruel head-stand. A piercing crunch came from your neck as you felt the bones and muscle splitting. 

You groaned as you slid out of the man-shaped hole in the hedge, prickly vines that had a death grip on your clothing sliced little holes into your jeans and shirt. It was a piss poor time to find out those leaves felt like brick as much as they resembled a brick. Some day you were having, huh. 

The front door was a blessing to see, but if there were any angels around... well you doubt there would be. This house is disguised by a magic barrier with the added protection of the maze. Any onlookers would just see dense forest unless you took the illusion down for a special occasion, but that rarely ever happened.

Upon entering the kitchen, it was on sight. Like a cat with opposable thumbs finding a hidden treat bag, you were all up in the refrigerator, leaving no apple un-turnovered. 

Cake, grapes and the vines, cheese, eggs, turkey that's a week too old, you name it, and it was eaten. A month's work of groceries gone, but it was worth it, just so you could do something stupid and write it down for when you told your Hilarious Hogwash and Miraculous Misadventures Journal to a group of unsuspecting kids. Maybe the weirdness would keep them away like you were the old witchcraft crone on the block that parents were nervous about. Super Scary Black Magic... HA! 

Your attention turned back to the situation at hand and thumbed the scratches on your thigh as they slowly stitched themselves up. You hadn't eaten since before you left the house, leaving your body without the backup energy it needs for situations like these. Especially when you wanted to poof things into existence from your pocket realm, that takes more energy than you'd expect. This whole cheese wheel? Gone! That's why you always carry snacks! Except... when you just weren't carrying any. But what can you do when you're forgetful.

Anyways, It's hard to explain. After a few years, you just decided to stop questioning it and just roll with it. 

After your full course meal and a half, you waddled upstairs in a tired slump. The door was ajar, the way you left it. You tried pushing it open but clothes snagged along the bottom, rendering it unmovable. With a sigh, you let your weight fall into it, attempting to open it farther. Your muscles strained against the door before it gave out altogether and you passed out on a pile of dirty laundry. 

*******

Roughly a week had passed, you frequented the news channel since you found out you could use your phone as a remote. 

Mostly, the news was about monsters and their recent descent from the mountain and into the human world. Maybe if you just watched the news before this you could have saved yourself the embarrassment. 

Today on the TV was a large goat-looking monster, dressed to the nines in a kingly purple cape accompanied by golden armor. Damn, what is it with monsters and armor? Maybe it's a cultural thing. You flicked the volume up as he began to speak. 

"Citizens of Ebott, as many of you know, I am King Asgore of the Underground. I am aware of the controversy we have sparked since becoming known to the public," His maw barely opened, a clear tactic to hide his fangs to avoid fear-mongering, "But we are in dire need of shelter, and while thousands of monsters have homes, there are many that don't. All I ask is that you open your hearts and minds to accepting monsters into your homes until we are able to live on our own. Thank You," Well, that wasn't a very long speech. 

King Asgore backed up as a man in a dark suit approached the pedestal. Figures they probably had him on a time limit to keep him from saying something to freak the public out. 

The new guy pulled out a thin stack of notecards, shuffling through them until he found the one he was looking for.

"I know this is a big change for all of us," Wait, that voice sounds familiar, "We will be distributing monster families to the trusted people of the public to keep them safe in these trying times. As stated in Monster Relations article three, paragraph two, you are required by law to house them without question and to treat them as your own. If those monsters are to be harmed under your care, it will result in serious jail time and a hefty fine,"

He cleared his throat. 

"That is all," Without hesitation, the voice of reporters roared to life followed by persistent camera flashes, mics held high enough they started to obscure the vision of the camera. 

You checked the time on your phone. Shit. You sprinted to the door, grabbing your pre-made bag, and hit the road. 

Leaving your motorcycle in the employee parking spot you ran up the wooden steps and into the building. Quickly you changed to your red lifeguard bathing suit with red stretch shorts for more coverage. You nodded to the lady at the desk, she knew who you were. Most of the people that worked here did. 

You stood outside the changing room, eyes taking in the thing you've missed so much in your travels. The tan concrete that surrounded the pool had custom seashells and starfish engraved into it. The water glistened against the high sun, but despite the heat, there weren't many people here. Taking a few quick steps out onto the concrete- 

"Ouch, OUCH, OUCH!!" You grabbed your searing foot, hopping backward and falling right into a hulking chest. 

"Hey, Punk. Why don't you watch where you're going?!" A grave voice growled from behind. You whipped around to see a rather large fish monster, whose scarlet red ponytail hung down by her legs. Before you could meet her eyes, there was a stinging pain on your forehead. "HAH! You must be that dweeb that's supposed to be "training" me. Don't be surprised when you realize there's more you could learn from ME!" She pulled her hand away from your face to point at herself with her thumb, and at that moment you realize she had flicked you.

A cheeky smile tugged on your lips. "Oh yeah?! Well, I've been doing this since before you were born, Sharkbait,"

With barely a moment to respond, she hoisted you up and chucked you into the pool. "NGAAAAAHHHH!!!" You belted out a scream before it was silenced by the water. 

"WHOEVER SAVES THE MOST LIVES BY THE END OF THE DAY WILL BE NAMED THE ULTIMATE LIFE. GUARD." Her chest puffed out in pride, "I WAS CAPTAIN OF THE now-disbanded ROYAL GUARD, THAT ALREADY HAS THE WORD 'GUARD' IN IT!! YOU WON'T STAND A CHANCE!!!" And without waste, she dived into the pool, slinging you onto her shoulder and out of the pool. 

"That's one to zero, Brat. Have fun trying to keep up." She barked out a laugh before giving a light wave goodbye. What just happened...? 

You shook off your confusion, quickly making your way to your post. The same ladder, every year without fail, was broken. So you grabbed the top step, hoisting yourself past the broken pieces and clumsily sat in the chair. 

You spent most of the day in your lifeguard stand, the umbrella steeling itself against the sun. The day just kept getting hotter, yet still, not many people had bothered to show up to the pool. ]At one point, the place was completely empty, except for you and Undyne. She hopped off the tower, making a show of her muscles as she stood up to lock eyes with you. She flicked her two fingers from her eyes to yours, waltzing off to the bathroom for her ten-minute break. 

You dashed to the small storage shed across from you, attempting to open it with your key. For a second, you worried it might have rusted over too much before it clicked open. Ah-ha! This is exactly what you needed! You grabbed your supplies to set it up before going back to where you were supposed to be. 

Not too much later, Undyne got off her break early. She strode out of the break room before stopping quickly to stare at the water with an eerie stillness in her muscles. 

In the water was a wet floor sign, held up by a floatie.

Her hands started to shake before they clasped around her mouth, tryin' real hard to hold back a snort. The veins in her neck popped out from the effort of holding it all in. She quickly retreated back into the breakroom. After the door shut, a not-so-muffled laugh belted from the room before she came back out so stone-faced it could put easter island to shame. 

It was nearing the end of your shift. A few sets of parents and their kids wadded in the shallow end. Undyne's head, ever so vigilant, never left the occupants, unless it was to check on whatever it was you were doing. You waved every time she did it, too. And every time, without fail, you watched her grumble, huff, then look away. 

Your eyes drifted back down to the water, and what was usually clear was now ā̷̝̺͕̹̻̜̖͈̹̦͍̲̫̏̋̅̈́́ ̶͙͚͈̖͓̭͈͎̒̃̈͆̇̊̆̓̀̎͂͘͜͝͝ͅm̴̼͍͓̦͆ữ̵̭̗̤͍̈́r̸̮̰͓͔̙̩̓̓̈̈́̈́̐̆̿̐̓̚͜k̵̫͚͊͠ͅÿ̸̠̬̬̖̫͉̟͖͓̲̈́̅͊͋̐̍͘͝ ̴̣͋̄͗̏̎̊ģ̵̛͕͈̳̉̈̇̂̈́̽͋̌̓̒̓͠͠r̵̭̰̝͉͕̻̱͉̆̂ȩ̴͙͓͍̱͕̤̺̝̦̯̈́̂̿̀̈́͋̊̓ȩ̴̻͙̬̻̰͓͉̙̖̳̖̝̾̿̋͌̒̒̉̉̚͝n̷̡̹̺̙̘̠̱͊̈́̆̈́͠͝ͅ that swallowed you up to your very core. You couldn't breathe, couldn't see, everything was so, so dark... so cold...

Your trance was quickly broken like a softball through a window by a familiar voice. "HEY!!!! ARE YOU GONNA SLACK OFF OVER THERE OR SAVE SOME FRESHWATER GUPPIES?!" Undyne stood on her chair, shaking her fist over to you. There's nobody even in the pool... "DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE!!" 

"Oh yeah?! And what are you gonna do once you get over here?!?!" You belted back, gauging her reaction from afar. 

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna NOOGIE YOU REAL HARD!!!" Her sharp teeth clicked as she laughed. 

"I doubt you'd even be able to catch me!" You retorted yet neither of you made an attempt to move. Just two dorks screaming at each other. She looked as if she was about to yell something else before a pair of skeleton monsters approached her.

You climbed down the ladder, now was the best time than ever for a bathroom break since you didn't take one earlier. The pads of your feet barely stung by now. You pulled a granola bar out of your fanny pack, gnawing on the stale oat bar. You stood under the umbrella, finally getting to stretch your legs after a long day of sitting when you decided to listen in on their conversation. 

You squinted your eyes hard, trying to see past the sun's harsh rays.

They were very different from the one you met a week ago. Both of them were opposites in height, but strikingly similar in character by the way they jumped around excitedly, loudly exclaiming to Undyne all the different types of pasta they've seen since coming above ground. Undyne mentioned something about a sans and the tall one in swim shorts with a spaghetti pattern scoffed about how he's just being a lazy-bones again.

She pointed to his tank top (with spaghetti straps). "What's the point in even wearing that, it's not like the humans can tell you're basically naked without it," She snickered. 

"UNDYNE!!" The smaller one piped up, "THAT'S INDECENT!!!" he was wearing a floatie vest instead of a tank top. His blue swimshorts had an array of TacoCats TM, it looked like he waltzed right out of 2008 scene kid culture. 

"HA! That's THEIR problem, kid," She chuckled. You watched them silently continue their conversation, not noticing a slim figure getting closer and closer to you.

"whatcha lookin' at?" A voice, smooth like honey, had startled you out of your stupor. Whipping around to see the culprit it was none other than- 

"Yikes, how many of them are there?" You deadpanned.

"i could say the same thing about you humans," His voice held no humor, and yet you couldn't help but laugh. He seemed shocked at first, his hands shuffling in his orange sweatshirt with a pair of basketball shorts. These were just regular clothes... You paused a moment before piping up again.

"Could you do a favor for me?" Your cheesy smile drew his attention. 

"water you askin' me to do?"

~~~~~

It took him a while to get up there, you watched him the whole time, continuously checking the big clock at the exit of the pool area just to be sure you weren't being too impatient. But no, it really took him all of ten minutes to climb the ladder to the high dive. You figured he would change his clothes first but... no.

"hello everyone, I will be executing the swan dive," His voice was monotone as if he was tired, or just didn't care. Out of your view, the tiny blue one looked slightly panicked, but you wouldn't know why. 

With his hands still in his pockets, he jumped straight up, and chest-first into the water. There was nothing "swan" about it.

You half expected him to fall apart like a bag of bones, but he sank anyway. 

When he hit the water and didn't come back up you took that as your queue and dove in after him. He had sunk all the way to the bottom and just stood there, staring up at you. Grabbing him by the waist, you threw him over your shoulder. He weighed basically nothing, which made it easier. As soon as he was out of the pool, the two other skeletons and undyne were by your side as the orange one hacked up water. 

"that went swimmingly," He patted your back, then standing up completely to knock the water out of his skull.  

"PAPYRUS I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE OKAY!!" He stretched his arms up to grab Papyrus' face, "HOW COULD YOU FORGET YOUR FLOATIES?? WHAT IF SHE HADN'T BEEN THERE?!?!" 

"good thing she was, huh sans?" He shrugged off the question. Sans? So there are two Sans'?

You gracefully slid over to Undyne, lifting a hand to whisper at her.

"One to One," You gave a shit-eating grin as she yelled in frustration, shaking her fists in the air, startling the three other skeletons. "Catch Ya' Next Shift Sharkbait!!"

A very scaley hand gripped your arm, "Oh HO HO, not yet, Punk. We've gotta settle this tie," She grabbed your head like a melon, pulling you up to her eye level. "We're gonna play a game of chicken," Her raspy voice laced itself with sinister undertones. 

Somehow, someway, you were on Sans (Who papyrus called Blue) shoulders, in the pool after closing time staring directly at Undyne who's sitting on (who you recently learned was) Papyrus' shoulders. You were in the kiddie section because Blue was too short for anything deeper. Undyne stared down at you from a whole 5 feet above you.

You were starting to think this was rigged. 

"HA! Don't give me that look, any warrior makes good use of their allies!" She pumped her fist before you interrupted.

"You kidding? I was just feeling a little sorry for you because Blue and I are clearly the ultimate team!" You boasted, letting your chest puff out.

"YOU CLEARLY HAVE NOT SEEN UNDYNE AND I WORKING TOGETHER BEFORE! I AM A SKELETON OF HIGH STANDARDS, OF COURSE! I WOULDN'T ACCEPT ANYTHING LESS THAN THE COOLEST!!" he quickly ducked his head down to Blue's height before quieting his voice. "We Are A Great Team Too, But I Am Just Striking Fear Into The Human!" 

"He's right, I'm practically shaking in my boots with how hard you bamboozled me," 

"That's right, human! Shake in your pitiful boots while Papyrus and I take you-!!" You gripped onto the bottom of her feet, using all your force to fling her backward into the pool without uttering a word, Papyrus, who still had a firm grip on her legs, was sent flying back with her. 

She thrashed her way back up to the surface of the water, "BEST TWO OUT OF THREE,"

*****

At some point, you must have fallen asleep when you got home because you woke up on your back, which was stiffer than a stick in concrete. Twisting over to grab your phone that was on the coffee table you could feel each disc pop like kettle corn.

Shit, now you're hungry.

You flicked your phone on, the harsh light stinging your eyes. A text message rolled its way on screen.

10:50 am

???

I'M WILLING TO TAKE YOU UP ON YOUR OFFER FOR TEA, BUT ONLY BECAUSE I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO!

Be still my beating heart. 

Rolling your eyes, you messaged back, deciding to mess with him a little.

You

Who is this?

Scarface

YOU MUST BE JOKING? You can practically feel the pissed-off-ness radiating from the message itself. Let's not mess with him too much, he might change his mind. 

You

Hah! Yeah, I am. You paused before typing out the next part. I saw two other skeletons today. Do you know them?

Scarface

I'M GUESSING YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT BLUE AND PAPYRUS? THOSE TWO ARE EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE.

There was a lull in the conversation before he messaged you again.

SO, ARE WE DOING THIS OR NOT?  

You

My place or yours?

You set your phone back down before it immediately lit up with a notification. 

Scarface

DEFINITELY YOURS. 

You proceeded to text him your address, but after fifteen minutes there was still no reply. Pursing your lips, you decided to send him one last text.

You

Bring somethin' to eat will ya?

***

It's now noon. 

Scar had messaged you that he'd be on his way soon, luckily you had already started baking your dessert. So, you sat the kettle on the stove, turning the flames on high before walking off to finish preparing. 

You pulled the piping hot Danish Pastries from the oven, not giving them a chance to cool down before adding the jelly and cream cheese, letting both of them melt to the 

You stared into your reflection, it returning your gaze. Somewhere deep in your own eyes, you are reminded of what Papyrus had said. 

"MONSTERS LOVE PUZZLES!! IF YOU WANT TO IMPRESS SOMEONE, THAT MUST BE THE FIRST THING YOU DO!!" 

You made your way to the closet in the hallway. Opening the doors caused dust to rain down on you, a thick layer resting on you like flour in a cooking recipe gone wrong. You shook it off before reaching for the top shelf. It was a big blue box that had been in there for years. Something your grandma gave you before you stopped talking to your family all together. Call it sad. Call it stupid, but shit happens.

You brought the box back to the living room, the pieces of the puzzle left to roam free on the coffee table. You hit the lid to the box to keep the end result hidden. With no real sign of them anywhere, you got up to turn the heat down on the kettle. You turned around to face the TV through the big doorway between the living room and kitchen. You have no idea what its called so let's move on. 

The TV has flicked on to the News once again. Ugh, not this again. You flicked a few channels over to a talk show. King Asgore is on screen again, for the second time today. You swiftly vault over the back of the couch and into your favorite spot, notable only by the slight dip when compared to the other cushions. The host starts.

"So, I've heard many things about the monster culture, and I can tell you we are all just dying to know if it's true," Asgore, for a public figure, definitely had a hard time disguising how he felt because he visibly stiffened. "Can monsters use magic?" The word seemed to purr on his tongue like he knew he had caught Asgore off guard, or asked a question he was told to avoid. 

He seemed to notice his own frigidness, allowing himself to relax before answering. "As you know, monsters are able to use magic, but by law are strictly prohibited," His speech was clipped, obviously wanting to talk about anything else. 

"So, what do you think about collars?" The Host knew he'd struck a nerve, but before Asgore could respond, his companion piped up. 

"Ohh Darling~, the kinky kind?" His metallic yet sultry voice was pleasing to your ears. The camera panned over to him, so obviously he made a seductive pose in his chair. You heard the audience laughter turn into fangirl screams as his tongue ran across his pearly teeth, loosening his tie, and slightly spreading his legs wider. For a moment you were entranced. He sure is hot-

KNOCK KNOCK. 

You almost screamed as two heavy fistfuls of love pounded on your door. You immediately changed the channel back to Ebott Weather just in time before the door burst open and two skeletons walked into the entrance hallway. You couldn't see them but could hear them, clearly. 

"You shouldn't just enter without an invite, m' lord," An unfamiliar voice drawled. Purple smoke careened around the corner while you awaited the other's response. Your elbow rested against the back of the couch as your interest, of who the other guy was, piqued. 

"SHE DID INVITE ME," Scar spat.

"a week ago." The other retorted. 

"THIS MORNING."  He practically hissed back as they came around the corner. Neither of them was shocked to see you staring at them from the couch, and if they were, they didn't show it. Scar locked eyes with you, but your gaze drifted over to the taller one. Strikingly similar to Papyrus and Papyrus, you mused.

Papyrus'? Papyrusen? I saw a flock of Papyreese?? Brian Regan much?

His purple hoodie was torn to high hell on the outside, but through the cuts, you could see miscolored purple peeking through. He's patching up his own coat. 

And in his hands was a glass container with a blue lid. Oh, Gods, you hope its food. 

"Hey, Cherry Pie. Who's your friend?" Your grin grew wide as you watched his browbone furrow. 

"THAT'S MY BROTHER, I SEE YOU'RE JUST AS ADDLEPATED AS YOU WERE WHEN WE LAST MET." He squeezed his nasal bone, looking as if he was regretting this already.  

"Number one, I can't even spell that word," That earned you a snicker from the tall one. "Number two, I'm not just gonna assume you're related. Assuming got us here in the first place," 

"THAT IS A FAIR OBSERVATION. SOMEONE WHO MAKES AS MANY MISTAKES AS YOU DO SHOULD BE SURE TO TAKE PRECAUTIONS," Is all he said before sitting down in the fancy black armchair you kept across the room but never used. The tall one just stood there, rigid where he stood. His sockets were void of his purple eyelight things. Was he uncomfortable or-?

"honk chu," What, "honk chu," The fuck? Was he sleeping standing up? 

"MUTT! WAKE UP, YOU LAZY IDIOT!" Scar gripped the couch so hard his phalanges came close to piercing the leather. Mutt didn't say anything but slid down onto the couch backward so his legs were hanging off the back. The glass case of food almost slid off of his chest when he let go of it, and in desperation to keep that food, you scrambled over the top of him to save it before it hit the ground. 

You had basically flung your entire body over his chest, letting all your weight rest on him. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment as his eyelights popped back into place to stare at you lazily. 

"Sooooo... I'm guessing you're Papyrus, too?" You gave a wary grin, not moving from your uncomfortable position. 

"is it that obvious?" His head cocks to the side. It's kind of cute. 

"No, not really. I'm not sure who else I could have met that also is made of bones, freakishly tall, and is called Papyrus," You tap your chin in mock thought before scooching back off of him and into your spot on the couch. "I mean how many more of you are there? Can't be too many more that I haven't met right?" 

Mutt gave a shrug, "depends on who all you've met so far," 

"Okay, here's a list. Papyrus, Papyrus, Papyrus," You counted off on your fingers, glancing over to Mutt to see if he would catch the joke. He didn't, so you just continued, albeit awkwardly. "Sans and Sans," 

"that's it?" He blew out a long breath of smoke, yet there was no cigarette between his teeth, "you're missing Papyrus, Sans, and Sans." 

"So you're...?" You started, rolling your hands in circles in hopes they would elaborate. Scar has been awfully quiet.

"cousins," "BROTHERS," They said simultaneously, Scar looking at Mutt, irritated. Seriously, when was he not?

"brothers," "COUSINS!" They switched positions quickly.

"WELL, WHICH FUCKING ONE ARE WE GOING WITH?!" Scar yelled, picking up the book he was reading, looking like he was about to launch it at Mutt's head. 

"WAIT, wait, wait, it's good just don't go throwin' my shit around, and let's just call 'em your cousins. Alright? It's all good, I get what it's like to want to distance yourself from family," Despite the subject of what you said, the tone was lighthearted enough that neither of them questioned it. 

Clasping your hands together, you stunned them out of comfortable silence. "What'd ya make?" 

"ENCHILADA CASSEROLE," Scar was curt with you, like always, but it didn't bother you any. 

From a chef's standpoint, there were very many things wrong with what you were looking at. The chicken was brown on the outside and pink on the inside, the vegetables were burnt so bad that they shriveled up like a spider, the tortillas were harder than rocks and the enchilada sauce acted more like a protective barrier than something to add flavor.

Upon hearing the kettle's whistle, you popped up from the couch to take it off the burner. Two teacups with their respective bowls were laid out, so you grabbed another one for Mutt. The cups were frilly and white with floral trim and a golden rim. The handle was frail, for the teacups were a family heirloom, and though you had lacked respect for your parents, something about throwing away something that belonged to those eons before you seemed distasteful. It felt like maybe they were watching over you, but that was probably just your lonely, nagging brain talking. Right?

You added the tea bags to the kettle, dunking them until the water turned a nice golden brown. Huh, they really weren't kidding when they said Undergrounds Specialty Golden Flower Tea lived up to its name. 

The brand Undergrounds is a specialty drink company, from the underground, like duh, that makes coffee and tea made of pure magic. You're also very much aware the name is a pun, but for now, you were going to ignore it. 

You lined the cups up on a silver tray. Hmph, maybe this would impress him. You bought the dumb thing on a whim but never ended up using it. Until now.

Moving back into the living room, you found that a quarter of the Enchilada Casserole was gone. Scar must have seen your confused reaction because he spoke up before you could get a word in. 

"YOU'RE LUCKY I STOPPED HIM WHILE I HAD THE CHANCE TO. HE'S NOT EXACTLY KNOWN FOR HIS MODERATION," He must have been talking about Mutt, but from what you've seen, he was still asleep upside-down on the couch. 

Without much hesitance, you pointed down to the glass container. 

"You gonna want any of that?" Mutt's eye socket opened only the slightest.

"IT'S YOURS," Scar said, with nothing but a mere passive wave.

You couldn't see it, but Mutt was watching you like a hawk. Most likely to gauge your reaction to his bro's horrible cooking. 

You cut a hefty piece off for yourself, letting the guck splatter onto your plate. 

"Dude, this looks so good," You mumbled to no one in particular, but heard a 'hmm' from Scar, too busy sipping his tea to come up with a response. Your stomach growled deeply before you dove straight in, fitting the whole piece in your mouth in one go. 

Cheeks puffed wide and meat threatening to spill past your lip, you gave Scar two thumbs up! You could tell he was really impressed, but what came out of his mouth instead was 'I didn't think you could get any worse'. Crazy how a language barrier can change the way things are interpreted, huh?

"I'M GETTING YOU A TOWEL!" And here he is, yelling again.

Scar stood in your kitchen, a purple blush dusted his cheekbones as he frantically searched the kitchen, trying to keep his mind off of you. 

No one's ever complimented my cooking except Papyrus...

He rummaged around your kitchen for barely a moment before finding the paper towels, bringing them back to you. Only to find the Enchilada Casserole completely finished off and not a spot of sauce on your face or fingers. 

His blush would have come back tenfold if he wasn't too focused on one thing.

"DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO SAVOR ANYTHING? GODS ABOVE, YOU ARE JUST LIKE MY GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER." 

"You sayin' I ain't nothin but a hound dog? Because I'm not the one that's cryin' all the time."

Then there was a paws. 

And he turned to Mutt who was totally not holding back a laugh.

"I Have A Horrible Suspicion That Was A Joke And A Pun Rolled Into One And I Would Like To Be Removed From This Abode As Fast As Possible." His words were less of a request and more of order because he was already storming out of the room and into the entryway. 

"guess that's my queue to leave, Kitten. Catch you next time," He got up faster than you'd seen him move all night, striding quickly after his brother. You got up to follow him, but as you went to say goodbye they were gone before you even heard the door open, leaving a sweet smell of smoke and citrus behind. 

...Kitten?

Chapter Text

Chapter Warnings: Character Death Mention, GORE

This is kinda Scar's POV? but not really.

Scar scoffed at the miserable excuse for an apartment that they've been stuck in for the past week. 

He stood outside the apartment complex, only to open the door to be faced with stairs. There are ten of them. Ten. And the government couldn't do any better than a one-floor apartment. A one-floor apartment that was in a duplex and they only had access to the second floor. 

There are no main light fixtures in any of the rooms, so they live from lamp to lamp to see. There's a hole in the roof, which causes a leak throughout the house that they have to constantly cover for, meaning countless water-filled buckets for the less graceful to fall into. It's already happened more than once. Oh, and the electricity is fucking shit too, Scar can't tell how many times he saw Vanilla sprint downstairs to flip the breaker when it popped just for plugging in the vacuum.

Now he's at the top of the stairs, Mutt a few steps behind. Scar looked to his brother, who despite being three steps below him, still had to look down to meet his eyes. 

Scar looked out the window that shines down on this spot during the day. Blue would go on and on about how this was the best spot in the house because its the only window where the light shines through due to all of the other sides of the house being covered by the thick trees of the forest. Scar couldn't understand why anyone would even bother breaking the barrier when the sun was so effulgent all of the time that he could feel it chasing the darkness out of his sockets. That is to say, he preferred being underground more. 

It's dark out now, which means most of the others are asleep. Emphasis on most. 

"If we're lucky, maybe they have tired themselves out by working in the labs," Scar thinks to himself. A lucky turn of events indeed because at least half of the bunch tended to be up at this hour on most nights. Besides Red, who looked like he'd rather spend all his time with his brother in their room than with anyone else in the house. 

A floorboard in the livingroom squeaked. 

That idiot mongrel! How could he not think to shortcut us to our room in the first place? It's like that idiot wanted us to be spotted. 

He turned to give a silent scowl to his brother, but Mutt was looking elsewhere. Almost as if he was thinking deeply about something. Which almost never happened. 

With the quietest voice Scar could muster, he spoke, "Do You Have Something To Say?" 

Mutt still never caught his eye contact, the smoke rolling from his mouth as he began to speak, voice barely above a whisper. "let's talk in our room," 

"If Only Someone Had Teleported Us There In The First Place," 

"if only," He silently laughed. 

Scar let out a low growl, resisting the urge to stomp up the last few steps. 

It was more of a challenge than one might think to move to their room without alerting the more... nosey skeletons of the bunch.  Without a moment to hesitate, he made his way down the hall to his room, before stopping dead in his tracks when a smooth voice came from the dark of the living room. 

"what are you two doing out past curfew?" It just couldn't have been anyone else, could it? His down-at-heel orange hoodie clashing with the shadows, so much so, that Scar was displeased with himself that he hadn't noted his presence sooner. 

"Stretch." Scar's manner was calm, a rarity, but only done so as to not wake up any of the others. 

"scar," Came the unwavering threat-laced name from his mouth. "what are you two doing out past curfew?" 

 Mutt still remained silent, the big help he is. 

"Tea At A Human's Place," There was a beat of disbelieving silence from Stretch as he stared on. 

"it's okay to call her a friend," Mutt teased, wheezing a laugh as he felt his brother's eyes bore into him, stopping only to punch his own chest when a horrid cough followed. 

"Now Is Not The Time For Jokes." 

"definitely not," Sans said, turning on the little lamp so the lesser beings without a need for a scotopic adaptation could see. "you know better than to go outside past the hours we're given,"

"Pah, As If Those Idiots Would Have Half A Brain To Find Us," His face remained neutral, but his tone hinted at something more playful, like an in-joke none of the others would understand but Mutt. 

Stretch had to laugh, "with how you talk about humans I'm surprised you were caught hanging with one," 

"oh, the humanity!" Mutt threw his arm over his eye sockets, which only earned him a small chuckle from Sans, and while Stretch normally laughed, he didn't this time. 

"we have to be careful with what they think about us to avoid them taking what little rights we have away!" Stretch snapped. It was clearly a solid argument, but the thought of being policed around by lesser beings made Scar's theoretical blood boil. 

"I WILL NOT HAVE THE HUMANS DECIDING WHERE WE CAN GO AND WHEN WE CAN LEAVE!" He barked, earning a heavy stomp from the tenants upstairs. 

Sans sighed into his hands, "just follow the rules- until we can get a host family and test the waters with them," After all, that's what Sans was waiting for, the perfect place to hide and work on the machine. "if we're lucky, we can get a house with no host," his words were meant to calm the waters, but they seemed to have no effect. 

"I Doubt They Would Let That Happen," Scar lamented. 

Stretch nodded along with him, ignoring Scar's comment, "sans and I have been thinking since there's so many of us and they want to give us a 'comfortable living space' it would be unlikely they put us with people and rather have cameras set up around the place, which we could easily avoid," 

By the time he finished talking, the swapfell pair was gone.  

*****

There was barely any coffee left from the pot you made this morning. It was a specialty flavor, strawberry cheesecake. You got an ad for it once and bought it on a whim, and to be honest, you don't even like coffee, but the bags under your eyes were evidence of another sleepless night. You needed this. 

Your phone lit up with another message. 

Axel Grease - 9:45 am - You up yet, Shithead? Followed by two peach emojis.

You - Who, me? ;) 

Axel - FINALLY! And here I was worried I'd catch you on your fifth nap of the day. 

You - At 10 am? 

You - Wait, don't answer that

Axel - IM COMING OVER NOOOOOOOW!!! 

You - IT'S TOO EARLY FOR THIS!! 

Axel - What r u gonna do, hide your house from me?

You - Yes. 

Axel - Sugar tits, no~ :,( 

You - Just kidding, get that juicy ass over here, bitch!! 

You huffed in amusement at the new pet name "Sugar Tits". Since Axel is coming over, taking down the illusion(?)-barrier thing is essential. A glass display case in the living room, locked with a key, but easily smashable with a rock, had a small grey button behind the miniature statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war strategy, that would power the protective barrier on and off. 

Flicking the button, you ran to the window to catch sight of it as it went down. The world outside of the barrier was tinted light blue, with a red hue around living things. Like a thermal camera. 

The drop started at the dead center of the dome, rippling down the sides like water on an umbrella before the earth below seemed to ingest the magic it was made up of. 

You didn't set this system up, by the way. Jett had- something about "keeping you safe" like she didn't already know about the whole undying thing. 

Setting your phone back down on the counter, you rubbed your temples in thought.

Ever since you were twenty-one, a best-friend soulmate tattoo appeared on your arm. Adahlaide Thorn. She was around sixty-seven and you'd think a best friend soulmate would be closer in age range, but not everything turns out that way. Adah was a mage who taught you a few things here and there. She was someone aware of your predicament, more or less "felt it in your soul", but probably more from the fact you still looked twenty-one when she was now ninety-seven. 

She liked to pretend she knew everything like that, it was charming in some way.

In her will, Adah left you a gift. A silver bracelet that had only one charm with a piece of quartz in the center. Something meant to help with "your soul" or whatever that meant.  It's a nice reminder, anyway.

After that shit-show of plummeting mental health and a few years with a chance to recoil from the stress, you woke one day to find Adahlaide's name was crossed out and replaced with Jett Jones. 

At the time, you joked about what a stupid fuck-ass name that was, but they turned out to be one cool person. It took you twenty years to meet them and spent the next eight attached at the hip. 

You don't like to talk about what happened. 

Your phone wheezed under the stress your vice grip gave it. The metal splintering and the glass cracking along the edges. Sometimes you hated reminders. 

Your eyes lazily drifted to your left wrist, your right gloved hand trailing down the names until you got to the third one in the row. 

Axelrod Briar. 

Somewhere along the line, you figured out your soulmate was just being continuously reincarnated, with minor changes to the personality each time. Lots of people don't have this problem though, and that is painfully evident by the way they stare at your wrist, begging to ask questions that you've heard hundreds of times and aren't too fond of answering again. 

You stared intently at the lone ant that crawled across your kitchen floor. Food was never left out, so this is pretty strange, to say the least. You checked the direction it could have come from. The couch. 

The front door banged open, a loud yell echoing from the main hall. 

"YO, ASSFACE! DID YOU CHANGE THE LOCKS AGAIN?!" and like clockwork, you completely forgot what you were thinking about. 

"NO, DUDE. I TOLD YOU TO TWIST THE HANDLE LEFT NOT RIGHT! ...DID YOU BREAK MY DOOR AGAIN?!" You belted back. 

...

"...no?" This time her voice was much quieter and you had to strain to hear. 

Sighing, you continued, "It's fine, I have a few spares in the garage." 

"You just keep spare doors?" Axel questioned as she rounded the corner. Her spiked blue mohawk hitting the doorframe and bouncing back at attention without so much of a hint that it was bent at 90 degrees. 

"They were on sale," You said defensively, crossing your arms. 

"Why do you just buy things cause they're on sale?!" 

"IT WAS A BARGAIN DEAL, DON'T FUCKING SCOLD ME!" 

"LANGUAGE, BITCH!!"  She pulls you into a headlock, closing your airway and just to add insult to injury, noogies your hair that you spent actual time on this morning! Ruthless! 

"NOOO NOT THE NOOGIE!! LET ME GO YOUR PITS STINK!!" You rasped, clawing against her muscles. 

Stature wise, she won by a long shot. Standing at a monstrous 6'10" she easily towered over anyone you've ever met. She was well past toned and nearing in the range of a body-builder while still maintaining peak flexibility, and by that I mean she can still touch her shoulders. Take that fitness buffs! 

Despite being absolutely massive, she was nowhere near as strong as you. Your "Natural Olympian Strength" as Axel likes to put it. 

Just as black dots blot your vision, she lets you go. "Anyways," She claps your back with enough force to knock the wind out of you, "What have ya been up to since I've last been 'round? Anythin' illegal?" She whispers the last word with a mischievous glint in her eye that says 'That's what I've been doing and I hope you won't disappoint'. 

"Oh, just like, tax evasion. The same thing as last year," You moved to the counter, looking for those pastries you forgot to serve when you had visitors. Where could they have gone? 

"Ugh, nothing else?" 

Axel was a part of a gang. A very dangerous one at that. One that keeps the streets safe on one hand, but more dangerous on the other. A strange imbalance you could only find here on MT. Ebott, where strange things happen. 

"Well, existing for one," She let out a groan. "but other than that, I haven't gotten out much." 

She pulls you into a side hug, face leaning in close to yours. Eyes far too intense for what comes out of her mouth- 

"Let's go tag a bridge!" 

What? 

"What?" The question comes out more as a laugh when you break from her hold and continue searching the cabinets for where you misplaced the raspberry treats. 

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! We can even run from the cops, just like the good ol' days!" She practically beamed as she recalled a memory from last year. 

"Hey, I'm not saying I'm not gonna do it, so don't get it twisted!" You held up your hands in mock-defense. "We can do it tonight," 

"Sounds good," She nodded, then pursed her lips, "Yo, you got any food? What's under this towel anyways," She moves to the table without missing a beat, unraveling the towel to reveal a jam-stained mess with a note the size of fortune cookie paper that was unbothered by the dirty things surrounding it. 

A mess of numbers that looked like they were burned into the paper with a precision laser, evident by the fact that you could see the table through the number holes. 

"'S that a phone number? You got admirers already?" She said with a wink, but you didn't notice. Too busy plugging the numbers into your phone, a little too dense to realize it was a phone number at first, but you were somehow able to tell it was only one number off from Scar's number. Meaning, It must be Mutt's. 

You quickly message the number. 

You -How'd you enjoy those pastries B) 

The response was a lot faster than you expected. 

Mutt - I think I overdoughed it and now I'm kneading more 

You - Not to make a half-baked pun, but they're as easy as pie to make if you want s' more? 

Mutt - Taking three bad puns is gonna put you at a high whisk situation. 

You giggled, forgetting Axel was even there. 

"Who're you texting?"

You jumped, surprised, "First of all, not a whore. Secondly," tucking your hair behind your ear in a jokingly flirtatious manner, "A boy," You batted your eyelashes for an added effect.  

"Lemme see!" She grabbed your phone, easily prying it from your fingers. 

"Wait! GIVE THAT BACK!!" You screeched as she began furiously typing on your phone. 

"Oh, you guys are punning back and forth? Lemme think..." She held it high above her head, still typing with grace as you climbed up her arms, almost reaching the phone before she started to spin in circles, flinging you off of her and into a tuck and roll from the kitchen into the living room.

"FUCK!" You scrambled to your feet and back to the kitchen, launching yourself onto her back and pulling her down. She let out a scream before dropping your phone, which you caught with ease. Your eyes flicked across the sent messages.

You - I know something good enough to eaAKSNDONFIOHIOHIHOFKN MMMM

You - SorRTY my PHonE is brookkdkdkkdenen hhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Mutt - You alright there, kid? 

You - (Y/N) Is really RUFF around the edges but I'm sure you'll grow to love her ;)) cause she certainly likes you, I mean I've never seen her get this worked up about someone

Oh, gods above, this is HORRIFYING. 

You - MY FRIEND TOOK MY PHONE SHE DOESN'T MEAN WHAT SHE SAID 

And after watching your phone for a few minutes and not getting a response, you threw it at Axel's head. She let it hit her, but it just bounced off her with a hollow thunk from her skull as she reviewed you with her calculating eyes and a smile she tried to hide. 

"Why would you EVEN-" You weren't mad at her, but you pretended to be- for banter reasons. 

Except... You can't help but feel that the text conversation was going to lead to something regrettable. 

"Jus' want ya to get a dick appointment before you do anything rash. Clean out the bat cave-" 

"DO N O T CALL IT A BAT CAVE," 

"Oops, yeah I shoulda known better than to mention bats," You deadpanned. 

"Dude, you're making it worse," You gave her a half-hearted jab to the ribs when your phone lit up again. 

With some mild hope that it was Mutt who had finally responded, you were a little surprised to see it was Scar who texted you. 

Scarface - WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING TO TEXT MY IDIOT BROTHER? DON'T YOU KNOW BEING A DIMWIT IS INFECTIOUS? 

Scarface - NOT THAT YOU COULD BE ANY MORE BRAINDEAD.

Scarface- AT LEAST I DON'T FALL ASLEEP HALFWAY THROUGH A CONVERSATION! 

So, mister human hater slash human tolerater comes crawling back. Heh. You'd be beaming with pride at getting him to actually want to have a conversation with you if Axel wasn't giving you her "knowing" side-eye. You wiggled your eyebrows back, not bothering trying to explain what was really happening, just let her believe what she wanted.

"Now, go get dressed so we can go out," She shooed you away then made herself comfortable on the couch. 

You moved up the winding staircase, gliding your hand alongside your movements, feeling the little nicks in the wood before stopping at the second floor to look at the empty hallway. The cobwebs, while you didn't mind spiders, were getting out of hand. That's a good thing, you think. Prevents the usual people (and by usual I mean most people are afraid of spiders) from even bothering to snoop around your house. That is, assuming they get past the protective barrier in the first place. 

You stuck your finger into the cobweb that lined the doorway from corner to corner, it blocked the entrance in, but nobody slept here, at least you hope they didn't. Continuing, before you put any bad thoughts in your head- 

Ah! The third floor! You spared a passing glance to the attic door just a little farther up. The staircase would cut off with just enough space for a human to stand between the floor and the ceiling where a small square imprint with a string attached was. Sighing contently with the fact it looked unbothered, you were down the hallway, stopping at a wall, roughly ten feet between the next door and the last, dead center of the wall. 

Fixing your hands on the wall, you gave a hearty push, the wall beneath your fingers swinging open like an actual door but with no handle. There was no magic for this illusion, just expert craftmanship on your part. And when you shut the door behind you, there is no trace of an entrance anywhere on the wall. 

The door led to a mini-hallway, seriously like only 3 feet long, before it opened up to your room. A singular twin-sized bed was in the far left corner, a nightstand a little to the right of it with a small vintage lamp on the top with hand-painted stars made to look like it came right out of the '50s. 

A small cherry wood vanity to match the nightstand pressed right up against it with barely any wiggle room. The glass could use a bit of cleaner, but you never check yourself out much anymore, so did it matter? You normally do your makeup in the downstairs bathroom if you really need to, the lighting was better in there, after all. 

Then to the right wall was a complete closet stretched from wall to wall, like a walk-in... but more like a walk-alongside, that was filled to the brim and practically exploding with clothes but not all of them were yours. Some were from years before you even moved in for the first time, and you've lived here quite a few times, mostly when you try to keep yourself on the down-low, but other times you just need a vacation. 

And vacation you will. There was a nice pool outside just begging to be cleaned. You can't see it from the window above your bed, but you can see it from the kitchen. It's just the start of summer and- 

-and for a moment your head popped back into what you were supposed to be doing.

You flung the closets folding doors open, a horrid waahhh-rump! echoed from them as they clashed with the wall. Some WD-40 would fix that right up! You've been meaning to get to it, you swear! 

The clothes were arranged by use then color, so dresses to the far left and jackets to the far right, anything else was in between the two, color order being black, red, orange, white, yellow, blue, pink, purple according to what colors on shirts blended into the next, but nothing blended into green so you left it in front of the jackets to sit in shame. 

A wordless annoyed scream from downstairs let you know you were taking too long. 

You threw on an old white hoodie that could be described in one word: Junk. It was sleeveless, so you put a thin, long-sleeved, dark green shirt on to accompany it. Along with high waisted brown pants with a nice leather belt, the kind that creaks with the smallest movement. You slipped into some chunky white boots that you used to bleach until your nose felt numb, but over the years kinda grew out of it, so now the dirt and grime build up on the bottom left a trail from your room to the ground floor as you made your way down. 

"Ready!" You exclaimed, proudly puffing out your chest to show off the 'fit but when you opened your eyes you realized Axel was paying attention to something on the floor.

"(Y/N)... Why... is there a chunk of lasagna on your floor...?" She said carefully. You ran over to check what she was talking about, and sure enough, there was a big blob of chewed up Enchilada Casserole. The same size of that 1/4 that went missing last night. Why is it on the floor?!

"Gross," Was all you had to say, before grabbing Axel's hand and leading her out the door, leaving the mess behind for the ants to figure out.

*****

Today Papyrus and Blue were out of the house- something about "checking out the Italian restaurants around town". They had recently taken a liking to this book they called a "pasta logger", which was already filled with the freshest places to eat in the town next to Mt. Ebott, but they insisted on adding their own commentary on the places so they could make sure they always picked the best places to go when they needed to eat out. Usually, when something like that happens, its because there isn't enough time to cook or when the cooking goes horribly wrong (even for their standards). Most often it's leaning towards the latter.

Sans took a look around the empty apartment. Stretch was already gone, which he hates to admit is his first choice when Papyrus is gone. The two UnderFell brothers aren't around during the day, only in the house at night before curfew to avoid more run-ins with the law. Due to their "edginess", they get stopped rather often, by other edgy characters or law enforcement that think they're dangerous or acting suspiciously. 

To be fair, it didn't help that Edge threatened to bash that cashier's skull in for not being able to look him in the eye. 

Which meant Sans was alone for today. He didn't even bother checking to see if Scar or Mutt would want to go anywhere. Scar would definitely decline in the rudest way he could think of and Mutt followed Scar. Not that either of them are good conversation makers in the first place. 

Sans is already outside before he really thought of where he was going. Grillby's, his mind uttered, but by now he should be remembering that there isn't one anymore. Much to Grillby's distaste, the skeleton monster hasn't left him alone about opening up shop around here. Sans turned down a random street. 

"I'm working on it," His flames crackled in annoyance. His host family's kitchen island keeping them separated from each other as he cleaned an already sparkling glass over and over out of habit. "You know how these people are," His voice notably quieter. 

He couldn't have been talking about his host family. No. He meant anti-monster groups. They managed to show up wherever monsters were like they spent all of their time keeping tabs on the news. Papyrus would've given them a round of applause for being able to unionize so quickly and efficiently if it wasn't for such a cause. Sans remembers watching Papyrus droop in his seat and roll up the tinted window, smile drooping ever so slightly before the man in the front comforted them to the best of his ability. 

Sans finally started to recognize the area around him. There was a store that sold monster food right down the block. He'd been there a few times, but he hasn't been eating much unless Papyrus makes it, and yesterday he commented on how Sans' bones were looking thinner. 

"I don't know, paps, maybe you need to get your eyes checked," Sans joked as Papyrus screamed in mock agony, but not sparing him a worried glance when he thought Sans wasn't paying attention. 

Sans' eyelights scanned the humans' souls around him, most of them were below a LoVe of one. A healthy mix of every type of soul blotted his vision, and he was surprised there were so many souls of kindness around. Back in the underground, he had joked around with Alphys about the only humans with those types of souls were children and Patience souls were saved for the adults. But just because their main trait had a good connotation doesn't mean they weren't corrupted when their souls were brought out of their bodies.

He can't say he had a good feeling about humans since the resets. 

Sans shook his head from those thoughts. Not today. He couldn't think about them today. He talked to Frisk after they made it down the mountain, where the reset would usually happen just before the town. The options for them to Reset, Save, and Load is gone, and while that should bring him some peace of mind, it doesn't. Maybe its because he felt safer underground despite knowing he would live and die there. Maybe its because he wouldn't have to live with the unpredictability of humans.

Nearing the street corner that he thought was close to the store, he looked around for it, not realizing he bumped into a large man until it was too late and he had him pinned to the brick wall next to him, Sans' white shirt crumpling under the man's hands. 

"A monster like you should watch where he's going if he doesn't want to end up dead," His nasty breath swirled into Sans' nasal bone. 

Check. 

Adam.

LV: 1 HP: 42/50

ATK: 13 DEF: 10

*Does not like monsters, if you couldn't tell.

His yellow soul brightened at the Justice he thought was being served.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Both Sans and the man snapped their heads to where the voice came from. A young woman, wearing a white jacket that's grossness could rival his own, looking more pissed off than Adam, with another girl directly behind her who was tall as shit, with a big blue mohawk. 

A few bystanders stopped to watch, none wanting to intervene but invested in the drama that was about to unfold. 

Adam's dazed expression quickly switched back to the previous one he used with Sans, "Oh, what? Are you some sort of monster fu-" before he could finish his sentence, her fist collided with his jaw, sending him flying across the sidewalk.

The blue girl stood behind her, ready to step in if it looked like she needed it. She studied Sans with piercing eyes and the woman who saved him paid him almost no mind, eyes trained on the man's still form. He let out a groan, muffled by the concrete and a random girl whispered to her friend that she was gonna "call the police".

The girl in the white jacket snatched his wrist into a vice grip, "C'mon let's go!" and she took off without seeing if he'd actually follow. He didn't have much of a choice, he could have never slipped out of her hand even if he wanted to. 

Faces rushed past them, and her friend moved to run behind him, shielding his view from unruly eyes and possible other offenders that could come their way.

By the time they stopped they were in a store, but not the one Sans was looking for.

Taking this moment to relax, he checked their stats. 

Axelrod

LV: 2 HP: 60/50

ATK: 15 DEF: 10

*Is just glad that everyone is safe

Her orange soul of Bravery swelled in her chest.

Sans shuddered at her stats. Level two? So far, he's only seen one other human with a level above one and that was before the reset. 

Then the girl who helped him looked over. 

"You doin' alright?" She panted, hands resting on her bent knees, face and shirt soaked with sweat. Not that he looked any better right now. 

Check. 

Huh?

Check.

Nothing came up. No stats, no soul outline- just a blank slate. 

When he dropped out of his thoughts he realized he was staring right at her chest, like some sort of perv. 

"It's fine, nothing gets under my skin," Sans said with an easy smile on his face. Despite how her friend's stats were a little off, he didn't feel any onset danger. Yet. 

She guffawed at his awful pun, Axelrod smacking the back of the girl's head for allowing herself to find those jokes funny. 

"so..." Sans kicked his slippered feet awkwardly, "what are your names?" 

"Well," She makes a dramatic pose with her hands, "This is Axel! And I'm (y/n)!" Her smile was wide as she waited for his response. 

"(y/n)?"

"Yup!"

"that name's kinda strange don't you think?" He knew what humans thought about his. 

Her smile never faltered, nor did she miss a beat. "ORDINARY NAMES LEAD TO ORDINARY EXPECTATIONS!" She belts at the top of her lungs, flexing her arms 90 degrees as she posed. A few people turned to look but the cashier didn't even flinch. This probably happened often, Sans concluded. 

"you got anything easier to pronounce," Sans joked and (y/n) gave him a look. 

"Actually, I do!" Axel declared, pushing her friend out of the way and pulling a book out of her backpack. Its label read Greek Gods and the Mysteries We Have Forgotten. Axel flipped to a page from memory, shoving it in his hands to point at what she was talking about. A river in the underworld and Sans swears he's heard of it before. 

She continued, while (y/n) remained silent, "I've been trying to get everyone to-"

"NO" She bonked the back of Axel's head with an inflatable tube. Where did she even get that?

"To call her Styx, like the river?" Axel shoves her away as she tries to climb on her back. 

"It seems like the name is gonna stick," Sans replied loudly, causing Styx to groan in frustration. 

"Alright, are ya hungry?" Axelrod finally spoke up, clapping her friend on the back as a dad would. Her body jostled like it was going to slingshot across the store before she steadied herself, giving Axel a look. 

"I will hate you, even on my deathbed," Styx glared with her arms crossed and her frown did the impossible, and deepened. "This name is stupid," she just sighed when she got no response. Almost like a lightbulb turned on above her head she shot up and exclaimed- 

"What's your name?!" 

"s-"

"Just kidding I already know," She gave him a cheeky grin.

"oh, do you now? and what would my name be?" 

"Sans!" A mischievous glint in her eye when Sans choked on his own words. Okay, that freaked him out.

"how did you-" 

"I met your brothers," 

For a moment, Sans was at a loss for words. 

"...which ones?" 

"Uh," she counted them on her fingers, "Papyrus, Blue, Stretch I think his name was, Scar aaaaand Mutt," 

Sans wasn't surprised she met Papyrus and Blue, they tended to make friends everywhere they went but..."scar and mutt?" 

"Uh-huh," Styx bounced on her feet. 

"Listen, man," Axel butted in, "Can we like, get something to eat and talk about this on the way? I'm getting hungry," 

Noting Sans' awkward expression, Styx stated, "No worries, they've got monster food here. Now let's get you a ham sandwich,"

*****

You looked over at the skeleton that had been walking alongside you all the way to the bridge, taking no bites out of each sandwich you gave him but when you turned to look the whole thing was just gone. You had both pitched in to buy Sans a whole loaf of monster bread, ham, and provolone, but the bottle of ketchup came from nowhere. 

The entire walk had consisted of awkward silence, so bad to the point you'd thought he'd split off to do his own thing, but he had stayed, giving you an anxious glance every now and again, like you didn't notice. 

"Hey Sans," he turns, "what is the loudest kind of sandwich?" His dim eyelights practically explode in their sockets as he replies. "I don't know, what is the loudest kind of sandwich?" Axel's stink-eye going unnoticed to your senses. 

"A B. YELL T!" You wailed the last part as Axel threw you over her shoulders, sprinting down the hill and under the bridge. Sans tried his best to keep up with the tall woman, stopping every five seconds to wheeze out a laugh.  

She almost chucked you into the water but decided against it when your pleas had swayed her. Sans finally caught up, only to take a seat on a big rock to catch his breath. 

"Oh thank the Gods we're finally here and I don't have to listen to you two," She sighed in contentment, sticking one earbud in to listen to her favorite song, Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen.

You reached into your small pocket, activating your pocket dimension to pull out a blue spray can. 

Axel's eyes bugged out of her head as she studied you, and a beat of regret shocked through your mind. "How did you do that?" Her pointer finger gesturing wildly at your pants. Well, you're in the thick of it now. 

"Do what?" You say, reaching into your shirt, activating it again to pull out a black spray can. 

Sans's eyelights were now trained on you, a curious flicker in his eye as he mimicked Axel's question. 

"how did you do that?" and now you felt strained to answer. Monsters, known primarily for their magic, humans NOT being known for their magic because they supposedly don't have any, and now a monster was curious about your magic? You held a steady smile, hiding the evergrowing panic. 

"I used to be a-uh, clown," You coughed, "and I didn't wanna tell you, Axel, cause then you'd know where I get all my good jokes from, and then you'd TAKE them from me," the beginning was an obvious lie, but you really didn't want her to take your jokes. 

"that still doesn't explain how a can could fit in your pocket," he points down to your pants. 

"What, you've never seen a clown car? Explain that science boy," Sans reeled, his neverending smile dropping before he could catch it, quickly recovering his expression, scratching his head in thought. Good luck, you wish him as he sat back down on the rock he was on earlier, content on watching you two work. 

Axel had already stopped caring, opting to spraypaint an orange and red phoenix onto the wall to cover the old tags that had rotted away from years ago.

You checked back on the newcomer. This time his back was turned to you, he whipped out a flip phone, the same lazy smile peeking from the side of his face as he punched letters into a message frantically. Almost as if he had noted your gaze, he stiffened his movements, so you pull out one last can before getting to work. 

You started with a white base, rounding out any edges that were too sharp to give it that soft look. Next, adding the two black circle eyes with the upside-down heart for his nose. You turned to check on Sans, to see if he's noticed what you're doing. Luckily, he still seems to be texting. 

Finally, you get to use the blue, angling it to get the curve of his eyelight just right. You had to turn away from it for a few seconds to get fresh eyes on it when you turn around. 

Yup, that looked just like him. A spitting image, you think, before spitting onto the ground next Axel's feet. She doesn't turn around, much to your dismay. Which leaves Sans to bother. 

You whistle in his direction, quickly catching his eye from his phone, getting up and walking over to you. 

"whaddaya need, kid?" You never realized just how short Sans was until he was directly below you. Even blue had an inch or three on him, which was weird because at first, you thought they were all identical, just with differences in their facial features. Well, you were clearly wrong, cause shit, this guy had to be short-short. 

There was an awkward silence forming while you were deep in thought. Sans took that time to glance around you at the artwork on the wall. 

"whoa, is that me?" suddenly, you felt a bit bashful. Heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized it was probably really weird to paint someone you just met. You just seemed to be full of stupid ideas you don't think through. He probably thinks your creepy and weird-

You were startled out of your thoughts when Sans spoke again. "that's... really good. where did you learn how to do that?"  

"Well, you can go to school for it," you started, wringing your hands nervously, "but I just kinda, I don't know, learned how to do it myself? Like by watching other people do it and practicing," 

He scratched the back of his skull, "Not a lot of people did arts 'n' crafts back in the underground... so seeing this kinda talent is... new. Could you possibly teach my bro? He's been looking to learn how to do that kinda thing if you don't mind?" His face held a look of sincerity you hadn't seen from him ever. How could you say no?

You nodded to him, "Hell yeah! I'll teach your bro!" Your voice wavered slightly, though you tried to stop it. Sometimes siblings could be so sweet to each other, its something you rarely ever saw from humans. It could just bring tears to-

"I'll probably tag along too. It gets kinda bonely at home." Axel twitched, her spraypainting stopped as she listened in, and you remained silent for your own safety. Sans stayed still a moment before continuing on the slaughter. 

"Tibia honest, I find that pun quite a rib-tickler, but if you didn't find it very humerus I have plenty more where that came from." Her neck snapped to look over at him so fast your sure it almost broke. An eerie shadow enveloped her eyes as she became more and more irritated. 

"ok, well if the puns don't strike your fancy, maybe the jokes will," He paused for dramatic effect, unaware of the circumstances they were in. "what is a skeleton's favorite instrument?" 

You tried everything from blurting out the answer, covering your mouth, ignoring Sans joke (and failing), pretending to not listen, plugging your ears- but nothing worked. You couldn't stop yourself.

"A TROMBONE," You screamed as Axel whipped both of your cans into orbit like rockets. All of you stood there, watching them go before they came crashing down on the building surrounded by a barbwire fence. The place had been abandoned a while ago but "Trespassers will be Shot" signs littered the yard and walls. 

Axel began packing up her stuff, sandwiches, paints, and cool rocks she found by the river bank. 

"And just where do you think you're going?" Two loud 'dings' rang from your phone before you quickly set it on silent, shoving it back in your pocket.

"Home, to my girlfriend who doesn't have distasteful humor," She shucked the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. "You should meet her sometime." A gloomy aura radiating from her body as she stared at you for longer than considered acceptable, then she turned on her heels and began walking off. 

"What! You're not gonna help me-" you pointed to the fences, "help me, uh-" she stopped to look at you again. "get my stuff, uh, back," The words died in your throat when you realized she was completely serious. Damn it. You didn't mean to annoy her. Maybe she was just having a bad day, you should let her cool off and see if she wants to hang out tomorrow. 

You turned to Sans, a singular blue bead of sweat dripping from his brow to his chin, eyelights flicking away to study the ground below. 

"Sans~" You stretch out the syllables in his name, more blue sweat forming on his skull. He doesn't answer. 

"Do you wanna, maybe, I don't know- Help me get my paints back?" You crept closer with every word, "Please? I'll get you more sandwiches?" 

"Make it hotdogs and you're on." The sweat instantly stopped. Alright, that is so FUCKING weird. 

"Let's get going. Oh! Check it out, Axel left her bolt cutters!" You grabbed them by the handles, giving them a click for good measure. 

Sans chuckled. "Who just leaves boltcutters?" 

"Crazy bitches," You said, fondly. 

You made your way over to the fences, Sans trotting close to you. Eventually, he stopped in his tracks. Assuming he read one of the signs, you turned to reassure him, but he beat you to it. 

"(y/n)," 

"Yes?" 

"This is illegal," His perpetual smile twitched downwards before returning to its usual form. 

"Like, only a little," That was so painfully obvious the wrong thing to say. 

"I- we- how am I supposed to explain to you that we monsters have been trying our hardest to be accepted amongst you humans. If they catch me in there, it could be all over," He squeezed his temples, the seemingly malleable bone moving underneath his fingers. 

"For something minor like trespassing?" 

"trespassing isn't minor!" He belted, hand leaving his face to give you a very stern, parental look that he probably uses often.

"Sans, look," You slung your arm around his shoulder, having to bend down awkwardly. "See those windows? There's no glass. And the walls? Completely cracked from outside to inside," You let go of him, taking a step back. "It's been abandoned for a really long time dude. We're gonna be fine,"

He took a moment to think it over. "Fine. But you owe me more hotdogs." He said smugly. 

"Its a date then," His face flushed a deep blue when he registered what you said. 

"i- that's- that's not what I meant," He spoke meekly, and if he could purse his lips, he would be. 

You gave him a soft pat on the back, "I'm just getting your goose," 

Running over to the fence, you missed the confused stare of Sans. Using the cutters, you got to work on the fence. 

"that for me?" He was back to his normal self, cheesy comical smile, and laidback stature. 

"I don't know what would give you that idea," You quipped, looking down at the Sans-shaped hole you made. It even included extra bumps for the puffs in his jacket. "This is for me," You proceeded to try to fit through the hole that was much smaller than you, hoping the spot in the middle would give you enough room, but the sharp metal clawed your pants down the thighs and into your skin. At this point, you were already most of the way through, so you gave it one final push. Good thing you didn't like these pants. 

Sans went through after you, fitting perfectly and narrowly missing the metal on all sides. 

"don't know why you were having such a problem, it's the perfect size," He chuckled.  

"Oh, shut up Sans!" Playfully, you pushed him to the side. You weren't expecting him to be so light,

or to fall right on his ass. 

"oof, you hit hard," He rubbed his shoulder, legs sprawled out while he made no attempt to stand up. You grabbed him by the skeleton equivalent of an armpit and hoisted him up onto his feet before his shorts got soaked with mud. 

"Sorry, I wasn't intending to absolutely demolish you there," 

"it's alright," 

"You sure?" You felt a little weary to have just made a friend and to push them around like this. The uneasiness of something new, unsure of if they meant it when they said that it's fine. 

"No bones about it," Was that distant screaming? It sounds familiar. 

"Sans, do you make a pun out of everything?" 

"To patella you the truth, I don't knee-d to but I like to," 

"I can't tell if I need to laugh or cry," You said with a blank face. 

"Well, since we're committing a cryme-"

"No, don't even finish that sentence-"

"Finish the sentence? We haven't even been arrested yet. I'm glad you think ahead," You gave him a disgusted glance before taking off towards the door of the building. Your feet sloshed into the mud which dotted your pants along with accidental squeezes of the spraypaint bottle. The building was a fair distance from the fence, most of the area covered by tall grass that made it so the sun couldn't dry the ground beneath it. 

You tried to listen to the area around you to see if he was following but to no avail, the only thing you could hear was your heart pumping loudly in your chest. You thought about turning to look but this is a race to you, and you'll be damned if anything trips you up. 

The door was just ahead, wooden, and falling off of the hinges. You willed your body to move faster, hearing the muscles scream in protest.

"The sandwiches aren't enough!" They plea. "We're still trying to fix your arm!" 

The door now mere inches from the hair on your skin, you swing your good arm upward, sending chunks of the door flying through the cemented room.

Sans was already... what. Sans was ALREADY HERE?!?! 

His smug grin plastered on his skull sinking to a freaked-out frown. His boney hand pointing to something on your body. 

"Your... your arm!" His voice unusually strained as he looked at your arm. You quickly panicked. Fuck! The skeleton arm- no, no the bandages on that are fine, then what-

Down at your left arm was a deep impalement made by a stray splinter. Maybe splinter wasn't the right word for it, more like a log. 

"We need to take you to the hospital. Now." Oh, that just won't do.

"Sans, it's the size of my finger, I'm fine," You tried to reassure him with a calm, but stern, voice. 

He took a moment to mull it over. "No," he let out a breath. "that thing is huge and is almost pushing out of the other side of your arm! We are going to the hospital!" He demanded. 

This is bad. You can't go to hospitals. Compromise, (y/n), compromise. 

"Fine, I'll go!" No, you won't. "Let me get my paints first," Then I'll run like hell. "Then you can take me to the hospital," He looked as if he was about to argue, but quickly let it go seeing as you were already headed for the stairs. 

At this point, you were questioning why he hasn't just asked if you could buy new cans yet. Truth is, these were one of a kind. You had a whole set hidden in your pocket realm, maybe close to a hundred because you're a bit of a collector. Hermes, the messenger god, was attempting to deliver these bad boys to some mortal that sold his soul to him or something, you weren't fresh on the details, but since you had managed to catch up to him and the mortal was already dead before delivery, so he let you keep them. 

You had just assumed he was a soul guide all this time, that's what the books say, maybe he took the delivery boy job recently? 

You were really only trying to catch him to get information, he's the only one that leaves Olympus anymore, but the only thing in that noggin was addresses and gossip... You hate to admit that you asked him for Zeus's latest Sexscapades and Hera's wrath that followed. 

"Classified information!" He declared. "Unless you have something interesting you want to share?" 

You're rounding the second flight of stairs when you stop in your tracks, Sans' nose ramming into your spine. 

Before he says anything, you whisper to him. "Do you hear anything...?" He doesn't respond right away but pauses to listen with you. 

"no," came his reply that was the same volume as yours. 

"Good, good," You nod your head and purse your lips, unsure, but pressing on anyway. You had definitely heard something. An echo from one of the lower floors. This thing was built like a parking garage, everything echoed so fuckin loud, like is someone walking or is it just an earthquake, amirite? 

It's probably Axel, her lust for adventure knows no bounds, but her lust for her girlfriend, however- NO, NO don't say that, that is a HORRIBLE joke. 

You continued up the next 6 flights with no problems. Maybe the sound just was your imagination. Or some sort of animal. 

Finally, at the roof, the door was already missing, which is a damned shame, you've got a collection to build. 

"isn't it a little creepy this building is in the middle of nowhere," Sans chimed in, sweat once again dotting his forehead. He was looking at you with those shrunken lights that made you feel queasy with nerves. 

"Nah, it happens a lot around here when people move away or you don't get enough business... Or if they're doing something illegal in one of these places," 

"Oh, huh," Was his only reply before you both began searching for the cans in silence.

It was a pretty big roof, to say the least, with tons of those fan things at the top that you checked and re-checked behind countless times but found nothing. Around five minutes later you were checking behind another fan that you weren't sure you checked yet. Sans was behind you, facing the woods which was to your right. He crept up to the edge, you turned your head to stare at him, perhaps a little impolitely. 

His eyes looked dull, a tilt on his head as his eyes closed slowly. 

The sound of rushing footsteps had both of you snapped out of the trance, a deep, scratchy yell coming from them as Sans whipped around to see who it was. 

"YOUR BODYGUARD ISN'T HERE TO SAVE YOU FROM THIS ONE!" In a flash, without thinking, you scrambled to your feet and body checked Sans to the side, the man presenting a look of shock but not slowing down as he slammed all his weight into you. Your hands grabbed towards his shirt, nails ripping through the fabric until they found their purchase on the hem. The momentum sent both you and him flying over the edge. 

"Fuck!" You screeched as he threw a swing at your head. You're mid-air, give it a rest, buddy. 

You grabbed for the neckline of his shirt, twisting his body below you in hopes to soften the blow to your body. He sent a swift kick to your stomach, effectively pushing you away from him just before you hit the ground. 

If you had thought all of the ground surrounding this place was soft, squelching mud, you'd be wrong. Concrete is not as soft as it looks through the wind blur and definitely not as comfortable like it is on a hot day. You landed on your chest, skull barely holding together from the force. Your lung had popped, though, your pained scream garbled by blood. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet when you heard Sans's voice come from nowhere.

"(y/n)...? Oh, fuck..." followed by violent retching. Rude. You knew you looked horrible but not as bad as Jackass John Deer over there. 

Once his puking fit was over, he came closer to you. Fuck, he can't learn that you survived a fall like that. It would be so bad, you'd have to move away, far, far away and change your name again. So you opted for the better choice. Stall your breathing and close your eyes.

His soggy slippers were next to your face, known by the smell alone as he examined your body, not daring to touch, though. He eventually moved away from you two, to talk to himself in private, you guess. Tuning your ears to listen, you caught on to bits and pieces. 

"...shit... call the police? no... will think I did it... fuck... do I do?" His phone was gripped harshly in his shaking hand, cursor hovering over 'Alphys' before he quickly snapped it shut. It won't do him any good to call someone, if anyone else found out they could be in deep shit with him. There was only one choice. 

Eventually, the mumbling stopped. There were no noises for a minute, then ten, then twenty, an hour, two. 

Your eye popped open to check the area, yep he was gone. He didn't even try to bury the bodies, lazy ass. Not that you wanted to dig yourself out of a grave, once was enough. 

In the time you were waiting for him to leave, you stalled the healing in your arm to focus on the more important parts. Once the blood had stopped leaking internally, you decided it was alright to sit up. Your ribs were still arranging themselves in their chest and your femur had started to fuze itself back into place, albeit awkwardly, but setting it now would do no good when you still have to get home. 

Welp, time to walk.

Calling Axel for a ride would have been a bad idea. She was probably still mad, but most importantly, you didn't want her to see you like this. Dying and falling apart. If you had a mirror to look into, you'd probably vomit. 

Your foot collided with something small and hard. You looked down, currently irritated at whatever was hindering your movement. 

The three spray cans.

Of course. 

You should have checked the area before the roof, and you would've avoided this altogether. 

You quickly shoved them into a pocket dimension, grabbing a sandwich on the way out to help yourself heal on the long walk. 

*****

Finally, you arrived outside of your house. Your head had healed a good amount, you probably looked like your old self aside from a few bruises. Your ribs are still tender in some spots due to all of the walking and moving them around. They won't fully heal for another week or so unless you relax and take care of it soon. Your femur was still broken, and whatever started to repair itself there earlier had been set back to how it was when you first broke it.

You limped up the steps to your house, unlocking the door and pushing your way in with your weight, not bothering with the shoes. It was still daytime, thank the gods, because you cant extend your body enough to reach the pullies on the hallway light fixture. 

You started to pass the living room entranceway to get to the bathroom when a voice stopped you. 

"and where were you?" Came the cool voice of Mutt, who was facing away from you, in a chair that's pointed towards the window. Upon saying nothing, he continued. "you should know better than to ignore my brother. he-" and then he turned to look at you. Getting an eyeful of your battered body and puffy irritated face. If its a fight he wanted, he wasn't going to get it. The pain would be too overwhelming. 

"Aw, jeez, kid, what happened to you?" He approached you slowly, back slouched to meet your eyes, and arms lightly stretched outwards to you. You failed to reply by the times his hands softened against your shoulders. He picked you up, flexing the damaged bone making you wince. "sorry," 

Why were you letting him touch you? Whatever beats walkin'.

He sat you down on the couch, giving you a quick once over before asking you where your medical supplies were. "The bathroom down the hall," 

He came back with cotton balls, peroxide, and some ace bandages. Dabbing some of the peroxides onto the cotton balls, he wiped them on the bloodied scratches that littered your face. Mutt held you by your chin, moving your head around to check if he missed anything, his hot breath washed over your neck almost made you flinch and push him away, but he was already moving to your leg. 

You swallowed thickly as he set the bone, not uttering a single sound even as he wrapped the makeshift bandages around your leg. Mutt gave you an odd look, you gave him an irritated one back. "you seem to be all cleaned up," 

A 'Fuck off' rose in your throat but died into a "Thank you", the threatening tone from earlier not sitting well in your stomach. 

...

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," You met his gaze and his eyes darted away. "I just couldn't stand seeing my brother get stood up by- by, a uh-" He scratched the back of his skull, the scraping of it really beginning to get on your nerves. 

"Human," you finished and he stammered for an excuse. "It's cool, I know he doesn't exactly think too highly of us," It's not cool, but you were gonna become friends with that fucker even if it kills you. 

"...right... so if I needed to tell him why you weren't responding to him, its because you...?"

"Fell off of a building," You replied begrudgingly as you checked your phone, not paying him any mind as he hummed at your answer. 

*Message from Undyne (2)

Undyne (16:30) - Hey, Punk! You're invited to anime night with my girlfriend and a few friends. It's at 7 pm!  

Undyne - I better c u there!! If not, you're in for a world of HURT!

You (18:24) - FUCK IM ON MY WAY AKLSNFLDANFLNDLK

You quickly got up on your good foot, pushing past Mutt on your way to your room. "where are you going??" 

"NO TIME TO EXPLAIN IT'S JUST IMPORTANT!" You yelled, already up the steps and changing in your room. A nice black tank top with a red flannel, accompanied by black skinny jeans and red converse. 

You rushed past Mutt on your way back down, almost knocking him over as you ran out the door. "LOCK IT BEHIND YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE!" You shouted back to him as you ran through the maze.

*****

Undyne had texted you her address before you left, it was pretty deep into the town, but on the safer side. 

You pulled up to what you assumed was her house, it was huge and blue, with a white picket fence and a rock path that went from the front door to the backyard. You unlocked the fence from the front and sprinting to the front door upon realizing it was 6:59 and if you were late, Undyne would not hesitate to beat you up. 

Bounding up the door, you stopped upon hearing a few new voices you've never heard before. Oh, well, meeting new people shouldn't deter you from being on time! 

A few swift knocks to the door had everyone inside silenced when a baritone voice whispered to another. "Its cool, kiddo, I've got it," then you waited for the feet to approach the door before they stopped. "Who's there?" Their voice held a joking manner, like the one you'd hear from a comedian or something.  

Pfft, was this meant to be one of those knock-knock jokes? Well, you did start it. 

"Nobel!" You responded, oh this one was good. 

"...Nobel who?" 

You laughed, already thinking about the punchline. "Nobel... that's why I knocked!" The man behind the door laughed twice as hard with you, which made you double over with even more laughter.

Eventually, it died down and the knob twisted as the man began to open the door for you. 

Sans-

"...(y/n)?" His eyelights shrank as thin as a dagger blade, his bones rattled lightly while he waited for you to say something, anything.

Oh shit.