Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sans had always imagined that his journey out of the Void would be one filled with triumph applause and the warm smiles of his loved ones as they finally remembered his existence. However, reality did not match his expectations, as tended to be the case.

He stumbled out with no grace (although perhaps to say that he was pushed would have been more accurate), alone, lost, and into an unfamiliar frosted forest. After years spent with the constant absence of sensations that the Void provided, the snowflakes slamming harshly against his bones felt surprisingly painful. They looked so delicate and yet he could swear they left a thousand tiny cuts on him. It was torturous… but also somewhat grounding. The latter was likely the reason why he moved so slowly toward the nearest sentry station he could see to try and get some shelter, despite the chorus of voices screaming at him to hurry.

His knees buckled underneath him a few steps away from the small wooden structure that served as a symbol of hope and safety amidst the storm. However, he didn’t let that moment of weakness stop him from doing what the souls wanted. He crawled the rest of the way, ignoring the way his arms stung, and the unpleasant sensation of his body rubbing against the dirt and snow underneath him. He only stopped once he was safely curled up underneath the base of the post. His temporary shelter didn’t manage to block out all of the icy bullets, but it did shield him from most of them at least. Enough to satisfy the kids, and that was everything that mattered to him at that moment.

In the Void there had been hardly anything for him to do aside from sleeping. He hadn’t realized how fed up he was with it until right then, when he was forced to sit idly, waiting for a break in the weather. His eye was starting to droop, and the souls were doing their best to keep him warm and cozy, they were trying to lull him into that dreadful darkness yet again. He knew their intentions were good, all of them were great kids, much better companions than he was to them, but it took every last drop of willpower he had to avoid yelling at them to cut it out (he could have justified the outburst by reminding them that they couldn’t be sure they’d landed in their universe. It was preposterous to believe that anything else even existed out there, but something about that place didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the spilled bottled of ketchup pressing against his ass, or the car magazines scattered around when he was pretty certain that nobody was into that stuff, his brother only ever liked them because he constantly yapped about them to him after all… He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew for a fact that something was off. But bringing any of that up would have only increased the kids’ worries and they deserved better than that).

The storm was still raging just as much as when he’d stepped foot into the Underground when he heard two voices approaching him. One was high-pitched, somewhat distorted, and completely unfamiliar. The other was low, barely a whisper (he wouldn’t have heard it had the wind not blown in his direction), but it was one he knew quite well. It was one of the only two voices he’d been allowed to hear during his time in the Void (with his ear canals instead of in his head) after all. His own.

“This is why I hate going to that old hag! Why’s the weather always so shit out of the Old Ruins?!” the high-pitched voice whined childishly. Sans remembered the human, he remembered the feeling of dread and the pressure he could feel during the Genocide Run that erased him from existence, and while they weren’t exactly the same, that person reminded him of Her an uncomfortable amount.

No further confirmation was needed, he knew who he was up against, and he was unwilling to hesitate a moment further, lest the pair managed to make it into Snowdin and close to…

“Do you want my jacket?” it was that other voice that kept him locked in place. It was wrong. It shouldn’t have belonged to anyone else, and certainly not to someone on that side of the conflict. And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t resent the monster behind it. Something about the way they sounded so lost and eager to please made him think of a mistreated puppy.

Sans had never been a dog person, but maybe that monster would be the one to make him reconsider his stance.

He shifted his position slightly, just enough to see out of one of the fissures between two of the planks of wood that made up that sentry station. The child he saw on the other side was familiar, their red eyes were unmistakable, although they lacked their usual glow. Looking closer, he noticed that their nose had reddened, and so did their fingertips, and their ears. They weren’t quite as indestructible as Her either then. There were even white puffs of breath coming out of their mouth every time they exhaled a breath. It was weirdly humanizing to see.

But what caught Sans’ attention the most was the skeleton monster walking just a step behind them. They were maybe a couple of centimeters shorter than Sans. They were wearing a dark-gray jacket with blue undertones lined with thick fur instead of the flimsy electric-blue hoodie he himself was wearing. There was a weird dark substance falling from their eye sockets, and a floating glowing red target in front of their chest. They were also lacking the deep slash wound Sans had, and their skull was intact, with no colorful flames coming out of it at all.

They were different. Undeniably so.

And yet…

Sans had no doubt that they were one and the same. Two sides of the same pathetic coin.

He kept watching as the human stopped in their tracks and spun around, trusting their hand out toward their companion and tapping their right foot expectantly. They were already wearing a heavy wool pullover, and yet they seemed to feel no remorse for taking the only item of clothing fit for the weather that the other was wearing and leaving them in nothing but a bone-tight long-sleeved black shirt and white gym shorts. What a little shit.

Justice’s voice erupted above all the others then: “We can’t let them get away with that!”. They sounded just as determined as they always did. And, as it often was, Sans was inclined to agree with them.

Patience was trying to keep them calm and hold them back, likely wanting to assess the situation a bit better instead of rushing into action blindly, but Sans couldn’t. The skeleton in front of him wasn’t shivering or showing any signs of distress, and they had technically been the ones to offer the jacket in the first place. And yet Sans knew that there was something sinister about that scene. It left an uneasy feeling in his marrow.

With a pop and flash of yellow light, he appeared right in front of the two odd fellows.

The human froze for a moment, too busy eyeing him in confusion to decide whether to fight or flee from him. The skeleton, meanwhile, gave him a wild grin and immediately pulled out a knife from their pants’ front pocket (the fact that they chose to use an actual metal knife instead of their magic could only mean one of two things: either they were unable to use bone attacks, or they were heavily underestimating Sans’ abilities).

Sans didn’t pay too much attention to the other skeleton. He just summoned a giant flaming hand and grabbed them with it and then squeezed them between its palm and the ground. The souls were keeping the flames at a comfortable warmth, so it probably wasn’t too bad of a position for them to be in. He didn’t miss the look of intrigue the other threw his way, but, for the time being, the human was the one he intended to deal with.

“If you’re cold you should either go back to the Ruins you came from and wait for the storm to pass there or hurry to the next town over. Taking his jacket was not the right move” he was honestly somewhat surprised by how level his tone was during that whole speech. With how much the young human resembled Her, he figured he would not have been able to refrain from getting equally as enraged as he usually was when that little fucker was even just mentioned in his presence. But something about how utterly human they looked cooled a lot of that boiling rage. They looked like a kid. And an actual kid, not an anomaly masquerading as one.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he’d be letting his guard down around them. He wasn’t stupid, he could infer from the dread that clung to them like a foul smell and the monster dust staining their clothes what those two had been up to in the Ruins. He knew that walking in there now would break him as there would be nothing to greet him but silence and stillness, it would be like stepping back into the Void he just escaped.

But he didn’t need to foolishly give out his trust to show them some mercy.

The human let out a loud and obnoxious laugh at his statement. “Seriously? You’re gonna pick a fight with me over a damn jacket? That’s the weirdest hill anyone’s ever picked to die on. I don’t know who you are, or how you managed to hide from Killer and me for so long, but you’re a blast! Make sure to make your final moments entertaining enough to make me want an encore, yeah?”. They sounded cocky and arrogant, but Sans could tell that most of that was a bald-faced lie. They hadn’t moved into a fighting position yet. He wasn’t stupid enough to assume that their threats were empty, but he could tell that they’d sized him up and realized that they didn’t like their chances. Unsurprisingly, they turned toward the one they called ‘Killer’ with the same unhinged smile they’d tried to use to get him to run and hide (little did they know that he couldn’t do that unless he wanted Bravery to mock him until the day he died. Again). “Stop acting like an idiot and destroy him, Partner” they ordered.

The fiery hand tightened its hold on the other skeleton in preparation. However, they didn’t try to wiggle out of its grasp. They didn’t gather their magic to try and teleport out. They didn’t even move their head to look at the human who had just spoken to them. They were still lying perfectly still, eye sockets glued onto Sans. He noticed then that the other lacked any form of eye light, kinda like Papyrus. And yet he could feel them staring, reaching beyond his outer shell, down to his core. It was an intense and incredibly unsettling glance.

The human huffed, annoyed by the lack of response, and used the toy knife they were holding to poke the side of the other skeleton’s skull to try and garner any reaction from them at all. Nothing.

Sans was starting to worry that he’d been too rough in the way he’d handled them when they finally spoke up again: “You’re interesting. I want to dissect you”. There was a sense of awe in their tone that almost got Sans to blush despite how dark Killer’s words had been. It was stupid. He was certain that the other had meant it in anything but a flirtatious way, and yet…

Perseverance audibly gagging in his mind was what snapped him out of that very weird train of thought he’d embarked upon.

The fact that he hadn’t been around anyone but his father figure for who knows how long was really showing. He didn’t miss being in a relationship, mostly because he’d never been in one even before his untimely demise, but he’d clearly lost a lot of his social skills and his ability to interpret cues during his time in the Void. It made sense, but he was certain it would end up being annoying later on down the line.

The human pulled a disgusted face that made him wonder if they’d interpreted their partner's words just like he had. “Gross”. They shook their head and turned back to face Sans. “Ignore him. He’s an idiot. Maybe the cold really is getting to his head…” they sounded like they were genuinely considering that possibility. Their hands even moved to shrug off the fur-lined coat they’d ‘borrowed’, before a particularly cold gust of wind made them think better of it. Apparently, they were more willing to put up with Killer’s weird mood than with the cold.

With Killer’s inaction, they’d reached an impasse.

It was clear that the human was not gonna back down nor fight, and Sans, if possible, wanted to avoid a violent escalation of the situation as well. Because, despite the souls’ best efforts, his body had not yet recovered from his escape. Every single one of his bones ached, and he was almost certain that the cracks that already covered a majority of his skull had expanded, he could see now and again a couple of specks of dust floating down in front of his eye light after all.

Could he still win the fight? Probably. But he certainly wouldn’t get out of it unscathed. Besides, he did not believe that violence could teach anybody anything. All it did was continue the same cycle that had gotten him trapped in the Void in the first place.

However, the stalemate didn’t last long because, as it seemed, the human had an ace up their sleeve.

The outline of a black soul manifested on their chest and, soon after, a bright red button with ‘RESET’ written on it appeared in front of them. Sans barely had the time to notice Killer’s eyes go wide and wonder why that was before the human smiled at him, cheekily waved goodbye, and pressed it.

Sans stumbled onto a snowy path with no grace, alone and lost in an unfamiliar frosted forest. After years spent with the constant absence of sensations that the Void provided, the snowflakes slamming harshly against his bones felt surprisingly painful. They looked so delicate and yet he could swear they left a thousand tiny cuts on him. It was torturous… and yet familiar.

He blinked as recognition slammed into him and the memories of what had just occurred flooded back into his mind at once.

That was the power of a human. No. That was the power of an anomaly.

If left alone, they would corrupt the timeline he’d found himself in (because he’d had an inkling from the very start that he hadn’t miraculously landed in his home universe and that it wasn’t a coincidence that there was someone else there who looked almost identical to him, except more dangerous. Besides the fact that it wouldn’t have been possible after… after everything, that place just smelled different). And perhaps, as an outsider, he would remain unaffected. But he’d rather die than leave any version of his loved ones alone to face the atrocities that were in store for them.

With a singular glance in the direction the exit of the Ruins must have been in, he turned around and headed for Snowdin. As much as he loved Toriel, he wouldn’t be able to convince the old lady to turn her back on a child in need (and perhaps a skeleton she’d come to befriend through the door) by himself. He needed help, and he had two people in mind that he knew he could rely on, no matter the universe.

Chapter Text

Snowdin was just how he remembered it: a small quiet town filled with happy people, lights, Gyftmas decorations that nobody could be bothered to remove no matter the season, and advertising signs. In another life, he would have been mingling among the town's folks, stopping by Grillby’s any time he was hungry, perusing the Librarby for any new and interesting volumes they may have acquired from either the dumpster or the big city, and firing off puns at anyone willing to listen. In another life, he would have basked in the attention he received, eager as he’d been for the spotlight since he was a child.

But that wasn’t his life.

Everyone he met on the main street of Snowdin was nothing but a stranger. They glanced at him with eyes filled with curiosity, and he felt like an exotic plant all of a sudden. Bravery was working overtime to try and keep him from panicking, but it wasn’t working. After all, while they could influence his emotions greatly if they so chose, they’d all come to the agreement that they wouldn’t unless they found themselves in a life-or-death situation. Kindness and Patience, being the two youngest souls, had to be reminded of it sometimes, but the others were all great at sticking to their promise. Sans was thankful for that, the last thing he needed when lost in unfamiliar and hostile territory was to have an identity crisis. Another one (they'd been awfully common for him during his time in the Void. After all, there was little there for all of them to do aside from thinking. And there weren't many happy thoughts to be had when stuck in isolation waiting for your world to die so that you could properly fade away too).

No amount of pulling his hoodie down over his face helped him against all the stares of the bystanders either. The fact that the flames coming out of his skull weren’t actual fire and could go right through the fabric didn’t help with that, as the bright flashing colors attracted plenty of unwanted attention by themselves.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to parade around the whole town to find the skeleton he was looking for. Papyrus was standing right outside of Grillby’s asking anybody who went in or came out of the establishment if they’d seen his brother anywhere. He kept reiterating to anyone who would listen that he was worried as he hadn’t found him in his bedroom that morning and he wouldn’t return his calls either. Everyone he turned to kept dismissing his concerns, insisting that perhaps his brother had just had a late night drinking out by his post near the Ruins’ door, and probably had simply fallen asleep there like usual. If Papyrus tried to assure them that he’d checked already, they would only tell him that maybe his brother had gotten covered up in snown and perhaps Papyrus had missed him among all the other snow puffs. It happened. And, anyway, he was all bones, so why worry when it wouldn’t affect him regardless?

Every word that was spoken left Sans feeling rather queasy.

Back when he had been properly alive in his universe, had people been so careless with his well-being as well? He had never had a drinking problem as far as he remembered, however, he had been known to fall asleep in very awkward places, occasionally with a bottle of ketchup still in his hand. Who knows what people might have assumed about him seeing that! How often had his brother’s worries been laughed at? How often had he been less than a passing thought, easily forgotten and pushed aside until he was no longer anyone at all?

Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine.

He couldn’t, in good conscience, just stand there while everyone treated a version of his brother like an inconvenience. Just there to ruin their day with his worries and his sour mood, as if there was anything inside that greasy paradise that was more important than him (It was hard to keep the image of the skeleton standing in front of him separate from that of the kid he raised himself. They were blurring together a bit more every second, and he didn’t know if that was due to the grief of deep down knowing he’d never see his real loved ones again, or if he was just such a despicable person that he’d throw himself at the first chance to replace those he lost. Those were sentiments that it was best not to delve into, that’s what he kept repeating to himself). No bland burgers or dry fries were valid justifications to turn their backs on someone begging for help. Especially if that someone was Papyrus. 

Filled with Integrity, he stepped forward.

His soul was thumping loudly in his chest, scratching at his ribcage, demanding for him to stop, turn around, and avoid the imminent danger. He understood why he felt such panic at the mere idea of interacting with anyone after not doing it for years, but it had been so easy before! He managed to stand up for another Sans and look an anomaly in the eyes and scold them for their thoughtlessness. He hadn’t broken a sweat at any point during that whole confrontation. Be it the adrenaline, the familiarity of Killer’s voice, or whatever other excuse he could come up with, it had simply been easy. And yet Snowdin’s stressful environment and seeing someone who looked… close enough to his brother to pass for him (although their fashion senses were entirely different) had him hyperventilating despite skeletons not even needing to breathe. Had the Void truly turned him into a cowardly social outcast? Would he ever get over that fear?

With some encouragement from the souls, especially Integrity who metaphorically grabbed him by the hand and dragged him over to where Papyrus was standing, he managed to find the courage to tap the familiar stranger on the shoulder.

Papyrus immediately spun around. There was hope in his empty sockets, probably the hope of finding his brother standing there right behind him, but it faded instantly as his eyes landed on Sans, and was instead replaced by utter confusion. “Who…? I Didn’t Know There Were Other Skeletons In The Underground… Especially Skeletons Who Look So Much Like Sans! Except A Bit More…” he squinted his eyes at the crack in Sans’ skull, visible even through the hoodie. Was he trying to come up with a polite way to tell him that he was broken beyond repair? Because Sans was well aware of it. He knew he should have been dead already. His life was something borrowed by force. To an extent, he still resented Gaster for it, and so did the souls (that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t grateful for it too. The fear of death was an innate thing for most, and he was no exception to that. It was just… their relationship was complicated). “Colorful!” his brother’s copy eventually enthusiastically settled on.

That was not what he expected.

The surprising kindness managed to rip a smile out of him.

It was nice being recognized for something other than his pitiful state or his power. He never should have doubted that, if there was one person out there who would be willing to look past all of that, it would be a version of his brother. Much like the Papyrus he knew, he was kind. Hopefully not to the extent that it would harm him (he still remembered clear as day all the times his little brother decided to approach Her with open arms and a positive attitude thinking that it was all She needed to change Her trajectory in life. And every time he ended with his head a couple of steps away from his body, still alive as he watched the rest of him turn to dust), but it was a good quality to have when not brought to an excess. It helped those around him feel at ease. Especially Sans who, up to that point, had been shivering like a small-sized dog. It filled his ribcage with warmth. 

If Sans had a say in it, this Papyrus would get to keep whatever amount of innocence he had left and his smile. Even if that meant that he had to get his hands dirty.

Working together with this Papyrus to ensure all of that, however, did raise another issue that he hadn’t originally thought of. The universe he was in already had a Sans (unless the brother Papyrus had been talking about was that Killer fellow he met. Although it was easier to imagine a world with two of him than a world where he’d ever be willing to harm those he loved for any reason, especially by working right alongside an anomaly. The only time he did anything of the sort was when he knocked Undyne unconscious, but that was different. He was following Gaster's orders and they were trying to save them all), so he couldn’t introduce himself with his name.

Understanding where his thought process was going, almost all the kids chimed in at once with their ideas for a name (and Sans had every intention of listening to them since they were all sharing a vessel. It was fair for them to get a say in the matter, even if he was the one manning the ship most of the time so to speak). “We need something manly! Like ‘Axe’ or ‘Ace’!” Bravery yelled first, always the loudest and most excitable of the bunch. “I like Ace, it makes us sound smart” Perseverance conceded, though the likelihood that she actually liked something and wasn’t just going along with the idea because she had a soft spot for the younger boy was so low that it was almost nonexistent. Regardless, Bravery cheered at her approval. “But that’s not a very skeleton name… gotta call ourselves something like ‘Arial’ or another font if we don’t wanna give away our whole deal” Justice pointed out. Perseverance was quick to defend her opinion by noting that they couldn’t use a font that none of them spoke or it would be weird regardless. Their bickering was interrupted by Kindness’ soft voice: “I like Color” she said “It’s a happy name, and we deserve some happiness”. All the bickering ceased at once. 

Who could have the heart to say no to that?

Color’s mind was quiet once again as he offered Papyrus his hand to shake. He didn’t have a whoopee cushion strapped to it, there was no way to get one of those in the Void, and thinking about it gave him a sense of nostalgia that he would have rather ignored. “Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, my name’s Color”.

Papyrus’ handshake was just as firm and enthusiastic as Color remembered.

He’d always been such a happy presence in everyone's life. Undyne was lucky to be able to call him her brother (and no, Sans was definitely not jealous of that. He hadn’t spent most of what little time he had awake in the Void wondering which one of them had been the better sibling, and he hadn’t cried when he’d realized it most likely hadn’t been him. Anyone claiming otherwise was a dirty liar). For a moment he wondered if that was the case in this new universe as well, but he dismissed those thoughts just as quickly as they arrived. They threatened to launch him into another spiral, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

“What does your brother look like? Maybe I can help you find him” Color offered as soon as the handshake was over.

Papyrus was happy to answer him. Unsurprisingly, the skeleton he described wasn’t Killer. Not at first, at least. He started by saying that his brother looked a lot like Color, albeit a bit scrawnier and an inch or two shorter. His hoodie also looked rather different, it was fluffier, duller, and visibly handmade (apparently his brother had liked sewing since they were little or something. Papyrus appeared to have the habit of losing himself in anecdotes when he spoke). It was also likely stained as his brother tended to be a bit careless with greasy foods and with his preferred condiments. His shorts were mostly white and awfully inappropriate for the weather (rich coming from the guy wearing the shortest booty shorts he’d ever seen). And his shoes were some old beaten-up things they’d found in the dump years prior. Papyrus was pleased to say that they were at least closed shoes, and threw a judgmental look at Color's furry slippers as he spoke. He would have liked to defend himself by saying that there wasn't a weather in the Void, so his footwear was perfectly fine, but, truth be told, he'd worn those things for as far as he could remember. So his excuses didn't hold up to scrutiny for even one second. 

Color carefully listened to it all, ready to pat himself on the back for getting the ‘two Sanses’ theory right, when Papyrus hesitantly whispered: “He’s Been Hanging Out With Some Bad People Lately…”. Never had he heard his own brother be that quiet, so it took him by surprise.

Uncertain of whether he’d heard him correctly or not, he looked up, searching Papyrus’ face for any hints of what he meant. The other skeleton was looking away. His phalanges were twisted together into a tangled mess of badly concealed nerves. Weird. He was pretty certain that regular monsters like him shouldn’t have been able to remember what happened during the timelines that had been RESET. Hell, Color still wasn’t entirely certain why he did, and he was at least an external entity, likely to be less tied to the rules of this new world than any of its residents, as well as having the combined determination of six human children in him!

And yet, he recognized that guilt. That fear. That uncertainty. That horror.

It was a specific cocktail of emotions that only those who knew could experience.

After a few moments of heavy silence, he finally found the courage to speak up: “… then why do you want to find him? Wouldn’t you rather hide?”. He needed all the help he could get against the anomaly (or anomalies? He knew that those things could possess different entities within the world, but he was pretty certain that they could only take over one person at a time. And with both that bratty human and Killer acting unusually violent from what he was hearing, it wouldn’t have been too absurd to assume that they were puppeted by similar beings), but that didn’t mean that he would force anyone into doing something that terrified them for his benefit.

If there was one thing he’d never been it was cruel.

Sure, sometimes he lost his temper with a bit too much ease, and he’d said his fair share of things he regretted during heated arguments, especially to Gaster, but he always tried his best to remain kind. Sometimes he messed up, but he always apologized and always did his best to rectify his behavior (he wouldn’t have a chance to do that ever again with some, not with Gaster, nor with the people he had loved and unwillingly left. But he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about how the last thing he’d said to his father figure was an accusation born of ignorance. He didn’t want to think). He could be brash and impulsive, but he wouldn't pressure someone else to follow in his footsteps. Especially if he was heading straight into uncharted and dangerous territory. 

Papyrus let out a loud and dramatic huff. “I Would Never!” he sounded so offended as he yelled at the top of his nonexistent lungs. The volume of his voice attracted a few new stares, but, while they made Color uncomfortable and got him to sheepishly look at the ground, the other skeleton didn’t seem to care at all. He struck a confident pose, his scarf billowing behind him like a cape. “No Matter What Path My Brother Takes, He Is Still My Brother. And He Needs Help Now More Than Ever. He Just… Doesn’t Realize That Yet. But That’s Okay, The Great Papyrus Is A Patient Skeleton That Never Gives Up! Nye Heh Heh!”.

Color was in awe. He could feel Bravery rousing up again, resonating with the sentiment, and he could imagine Perseverance giving him a nod of approval, the highest form of praise most could hope to receive from her. Even Integrity chimed in with a hum of approval.

The loneliness and hopelessness of the Void had made him forget how resilient and hopeful monsters could be. Especially his little brother.

With no further hesitation, he nodded. “Let’s save him then”.

Chapter Text

Color realized rather quickly that, before he and Papyrus could proceed to deal with Killer in whatever manner ended up being appropriate, they’d need to recruit some more muscle. After all, as powerful as he was thanks to the souls, he was still arguably one person (that wasn’t entirely accurate, but getting into specifics about how technically he was a plural entity with a variety of identities who all shared the same body would have gotten too complicated to explain to Papyrus in a timely manner. And he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get into it seeing as introspection tended to get him spiraling). He couldn’t hold down Killer and fight the human at the same time, especially if the anomalies affecting them decided to disregard their puppets’ health and safety in favor of throwing everything they had at them.

And, well. While Papyrus wasn’t weak per se, he did refuse to fight if it meant actually injuring his opponents. Despite his desire to join the Royal Guard one day, he wasn’t a fan of violence. Which meant that he worked perfectly as the heart of their operation, but not as much as a backup for Color if things turned nasty.

There was someone else that Color had considered taking on from the very start, mainly because of her role in his universe: Undyne. If there was anyone that could stand her ground against an anomaly it was the hero of their story. Sure, the one he knew hadn’t managed to save the day, but she’d tried and she had certainly put on a valiant fight. She was a badass in her own right even without any formal training. He admired her just as much as he envied her and the life she got to live by his brother’s side. The life that once included all three of them, but that he was entirely erased from.

His feelings on the matter were complicated.

Thankfully, from the little conversation he and Papyrus had on their way out of Snowdin, he learned that the Undyne of that world was nothing like his. He was hopeful that a further distance between her and the one he knew would make interacting with her easier than summoning the courage to approach Papyrus had been.

They cut their conversation short because, upon entering Waterfall, he was immediately overwhelmed by the sense of peace there. It reminded him of the Void in a way that he despised. His only saving grace was that the water cascading around them and the echo flowers dotted around that area kept the silence looming over them at bay. They were not as grounding as the snowflakes constantly pelting against his bones, but they were something.

Thinking about it now with a bit more clarity, perhaps that was why he’d found Killer’s desire to dissect him so alluring. The experience promised to be excruciating and pain, so far, had been the only consistent coping mechanism he’d been able to find. It was the only physical sensation that he’d been afforded in the Void, and, even still, it had been muted there. It was his one and only constant and he needed it to function. He didn’t know what that said about him, but he had a feeling that his edgier alternate self would have loved to pick at his mind until he managed to make sense of it all.

Papyrus was not oblivious to his internal turmoil and he’d done the best he could to keep talking and entertaining Color while they walked the long and narrow cave that led to Waterfall’s first puzzle. Color repaid that kindness by not listening to a single word he said. His skull was too full of statics for it, and his hands were too busy sinking into the flimsy fabric of his hoodie to communicate his predicament. However, by the time he found himself avoiding massive rocks to ford the river he had managed to regain some control of himself again, and his brother’s copy finally allowed himself to take a break from the constant chatter.

Bravery tried to propose catching the boulders with their bare hands to build a bridge with them, so he’d had to quickly compose himself to reign in the little gremlin before they got them all squashed to death or drowned. Integrity in particular wasn’t much of a fun of the idea of remaining in the river any longer than necessary as that had spelled death for him in life. In the end, just to be safe, Color summoned a giant flaming shield that he used as a level of extra protection that he didn’t even end up needing. And, for as quick as he tried to be, crossing the stream still took him about double the time it took Papyrus, both because of his short ass legs and because he’d forgotten about his ability to teleport altogether in his panic.

Already, he knew that he would never live down the embarrassment even if Papyrus was courteous enough to never mention it again. And that was a big ‘if’ as his brother had never been the kind of guy to let petty little grievances and small insignificant failures go. He would never mock someone for an insecurity of theirs or for an actual weakness they had, but he had no mercy when it came to inconsequential stuff.

Once his feet hit the wooden dock on the other side he looked up to find Papyrus snickering. However, whether it was because they didn’t know each other well yet, or because he too had some distinct differences from Color’s brother beyond his sense of fashion, he didn’t say anything. He even covered his mouth as if he was trying to hide the fact that he found his companion’s poor performance amusing.

What an odd fellow that he was.

The next set of puzzles went much better. Bridge seeds were one of the most charming props that monsters had adapted to use to add some entertainment and protection to their streets in Color’s opinion. They were straightforward to use and they glowed a wonderful pink light once they bloomed giving the area around them a more magical ambiance. And the contrast they created between their fragile looks and their sturdiness once anyone stepped on them provided them with a layer of complexity that, for example, the hot air vents in Hotland lacked entirely.

It was a pity that, instead of being used consistently throughout the whole area, they were confined to that one spot as far as he remembered. He did have a vague recollection of someone, maybe Dr. Alphys, mentioning that they were just too hard to cultivate to be implemented all over, but there had to be more efficient ways of creating more. They constantly looking for solutions to problems that didn’t exist (who needed a robot with a soul? Especially when said robot was mostly a scam being just a ghost possessing an admittedly impressively crafted metal shell. And why had he been allowed to persist in his existence when, by Gaster’s own admission, he had been a failed experiment?), what was one more?

The Wishing Room, which was up next, was clearly more of a sore spot for Papyrus than him. His companion took a few moments to look for his brother’s telescope in there, only to find it smashed and half-buried in a corner. He insisted that he was okay, but it was clear that his words couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Color didn’t know what to say to make his hurt go away, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just knelt next to him in the wet grass and helped him recover every last piece of that object.

The idea of destroying something of such high sentimental value was vile to him.

Had that been the anomaly’s doing? Or had Killer been trying to sever whatever connection he had to whoever he’d been before he’d started ‘hanging out with some bad people’ of his own accord?

He couldn’t imagine ever choosing to give up on stars. Dreams of them had been one of the few positive ones he’d had during his imprisonment. He knew that the ones he could see from that room were just glowing rocks hanging from the ceiling there and they weren’t too dissimilar from the ones that simulated a day and night cycle in Snowdin or New Home where the ceiling of the Underground was higher up and allowed for more magic to coagulate into them. But still, the wonder they inspired in his soul was real. The fact that he still could remember it even after so many years was a testament to that.

If Killer had been the one to destroy his telescope, then the next logical question was: what led him to that point? It was something they would likely need to figure out if they wanted to have any hope of helping him. Although it was hard to make any guesses when their information was so incomplete.

Once they’d gathered all the scattered pieces of Killer’s passion, they moved on through the long and dark corridors of Waterfall. While that area as a whole was undoubtedly one of the most breathtaking in the whole Underground, Color had never realized how much dead space there was in it as well. The monotonous scenery and the low density of puzzles made moving through most of it a rather dull thing. And it didn’t help that when they finally abandoned the second dimmest section, they found another smashed telescope, although Papyrus wasn’t quite as bummed out about that one as it had only ever been used for practical jokes before, of which he wasn’t the biggest fan.

It seemed pointless to sit there and argue about the importance of that object when Color knew they wouldn’t reach an agreement on it, but he still believed that it was a bad sign that Killer had gone out of his way to sabotage another one of his interests.

Sure, Color hadn’t been truly alive in a long ass time, so he couldn’t remember exactly how important comedy had been for him. But he had a vague feeling that it had once provided an escape for him. A way to feel, if for only an hour or two, that the world wasn’t weighing on his shoulders. That he could be something more than just a parent to his younger brother, a lab assistant to his father figure, and a Judge to the King. That he could be a person beyond what use others had for him.

It was possible that he was just romanticizing a past long gone, but he had a gut feeling that the picture his vague memories painted was the truth. And even something beyond that. Maybe, once upon a time, his comedy routines had been a much-needed moment of levity for his counterpart as well.

Kindness shared that sentiment. He could feel her presence next to him, looking back at that faulty telescope, now broken and forever discarded, with a sense of pity. “I wonder when’s the last time he truly laughed…” she mumbled. She sounded so small, even younger than she already was, and there was nothing Color wished for more than to be able to hug her. Unfortunately, his kids weren’t allowed that comfort. They never would be.

They walked the mossy road through the glowing rivers in silence. Color was too distracted by the way the softness of the ground was canceling out the sound of their footsteps, and Papyrus was… he didn’t know. Probably lost in his own worries. He had a lot to shoulder and he was still young. If he was the same age as his brother, then he’d been out of his stripes for merely a few years. He wouldn’t have blamed him if everything became too much for him to deal with. Hell, he couldn’t believe how optimistic he’d managed to remain despite apparently retaining some memories from all the RESETs and his deaths.

Undyne’s fish-shaped house was just up ahead, thankfully. And she was out front, training with her dummy (most likely a ghost-possessed one if his memories served him right. He didn’t know why ghosts liked those things so much. They didn’t give them much mobility. Did they just like standing there ominously staring at any passerby so much that their stillness felt like a great compromise?). She looked nothing like the piano prodigy he knew. She was buff, her bare arms were covered in scars, and even her hairstyle was entirely different, bolder.

Despite what he originally assumed, the stark contrast between her and the Undyne he knew didn’t help him feel better, it only emphasized how much he missed his home even more.

She turned around when she heard them approaching, and Color couldn’t help but notice the fact that even the way she moved was nothing like that of his once-sister. She wasn’t graceful, she moved with purpose. Not any more or any less than she needed. And yet she still exuded the same amount of energy and curiosity. That was perhaps their only commonality.

Undyne rushed over to give Papyrus a noogie (which he immediately loudly protested). Color thought he would be spared since they didn’t know each other, but he was sorely mistaken. As soon as she was done squeezing his brother’s counterpart for all he was worth, she picked him up and secured him under her arm to give him the same exact treatment. “Who’s this that you brought with you, Papyrus?!” she asked (more like yelled) while still rubbing Color’s skull. Some things never changed…

His Undyne might have been somewhat more demure in certain contexts, but she’d always been just as exuberant and obnoxious. She was a brat. An insufferable one at that. He remembered that the first time he’d ever met her was after going to look for his brother at the dump (he’d begged him to stay home while he quickly went over to the lab to deal with an emergency, but he’d never been one to listen to orders. Probably because Color was always too lenient and permissive with him…) and she’d outright refused to give him back until he guessed the password they came up with (it was ‘Fluffy Bunny’. It took him way too long to figure out something so simple, and that was one of the few things he was glad had been erased from history). And, even after he’d won her stupid game, she’d insisted that Papyrus was now her brother, so they should have been allowed to do a sleepover together. And eat ice cream. That last one was for the inconvenience of Color ruining their fun.

She was a menace.

For a moment, he wondered how that all unfolded the second time around. The timeline without him must have been very different. For starters, he knew that was the day when Undyne and Papyrus decided they’d be siblings for real… just the two of them against the world.

He shook his head to clear it from the melancholy slump he was starting to get into, freeing himself from Undyne’s hold in the process.

“It’s a long story” he muttered, answering her question in Papyrus’ stead.

“Can We Come Inside A Moment And Talk?” Papyrus added helpfully.

Undyne frowned. She must have picked up on the seriousness of the situation because she ushered them in without any further remarks.

Chapter Text

Undyne’s house was a lot more plain than what Color remembered from his world. There were no trophies of her musical successes and no anime posters hanging up on the walls. She still had her beloved piano, but a layer of dust had accumulated on it, which made him assume that it was hard for her to find the time for it. The only piece of décor he could see was a giant sword leaning against the wall. He couldn’t quite tell if it was real or if it was a replica, but Bravery wanted it regardless. The kid insisted that it was the third coolest thing he’d ever seen after Perseverance and himself.

It broke Color’s heart to gently remind him that they wouldn’t be able to take it with them. They had nowhere to store it since they didn’t have a house there and, besides, it would have been stealing. And, no, he was not willing to just ask for it when he was almost certain that his request would be taken as either an outright threat (if the sword was real) or rather childish (if it wasn’t). And there was no amount of pouting and claiming that he was playing favorites and that he would have caved had Kindness or Patience been the ones to ask (which wasn’t even true. He would never pick between the kids) that could convince him otherwise!

While Color and Papyrus got seated, Undyne made some golden flower tea. At least that was a familiar detail. It had always been her favorite even in his world. And it wasn’t an easy one to get, from what he’d heard she received it as a gift from the King himself. It wasn’t something one could just buy at a shop due to the rarity of golden flowers, they only grew in the palace and the old ruins.

Soon, a steaming cup was placed in front of him and he accepted it gratefully. It would help uplift his mood a bit before he had to throw himself into a long explanation of who he was, how he’d gotten there, and why they’d gone to Undyne for help. Almost all things that he barely understood himself!

How was he supposed to explain who he was? Because he wasn’t just Sans anymore, so that wouldn’t work. And he would have liked to say that he and the six human souls all had entirely separate identities, but that would have been a straight-up lie. The kids couldn’t remember their names (it was why he was stuck calling them by the soul trait they embodied. He was trying to work on getting them some nicknames, but he’d never been good with that, unfortunately. And some of their suggestions were too wild for his comfort). Integrity’s only real memory was his death and the same was true for Justice. And many of the others only remembered the awful lives they left behind, and what pushed them to climb up the mountain they heard no one came back from. Due to that uncertainty regarding their past and identities, it was easier for them to assimilate him and each other, it made them feel more whole.

Sans, for his part, did his best to maintain his own sense of identity. He repeated the events of his life to himself over and over again so often in the Void… and still so much of it had slipped out of his grasp. He couldn’t remember how Papyrus laughed anymore. He couldn’t say for certain what Undyne’s favorite color was. Many scientific concepts that once would have come easy to him were now locked behind a wall of fog. It was as if the Void had chipped away at him bit by bit. Just as it did with Gaster. Hell, seeing how far that slow corruption could go, it was impressive that he’d managed to retain most of his physical attributes at the very least! His pseudo-father couldn’t even say that.

There wasn’t much he could say now that… yeah.

“So” Undyne was tapping her foot under the table. She’d been patiently waiting for either of her guests to spill the beans, but she must have noticed by then that it was never gonna happen. Papyrus was mostly clueless still, and Color was too much of a coward. “Are you guys gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess? And do I get any hints?” she was trying to keep her tone light and jovial, although the attempt felt a bit strained. Something told him that she’d trained her patience even less than his sister.

Almost as if responding to Undyne’s barely-restrained anxiety, Patience flooded Color’s mind with the soothing sound of waves crashing against the beach. They weren’t much of a talker, almost all of their communication happened with images or sensations. It was honestly impressive how much they always managed to get through despite that.

Reflexively, Color relaxed his posture and unclenched his jaw. He only notices how tense he’d been after doing that, as multiple of his joints pulsed a few times with a dull ache. “My name is Color. I know I look similar to your Sans and that’s… that’s because I kind of am him”. Papyrus’ and Undyne’s eyes went wide. His with shock, hers with incredulity. Maybe he should have asked if they could call Alphys and tell her to come by as well. She probably knew about the alternate universes theory and could have both lent him some credibility as well as helped him explain (the latter would have been especially helpful since that too was one of the concepts that had faded away in time). Bravery filled up his soul, and, with his support, he found it easier to persevere. “I come from another universe. One very similar to this… that doesn’t exist anymore. I’m- I’m the only survivor of it. Well, me and the six human kiddos I suppose. Although they’re kinda dead? Then again, so am I. Really, I think we’re more classifiable as zombies right now than monsters or anything else-”.

His rambling was interrupted by Papyrus gently lying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. The gesture felt grounding. He didn’t know if the other was trying to reassure him, if he was pitying him for what he’d just said, or if he was trying to subtly tell him to cut it short. He wouldn’t dare look up at his face to figure it out for fear of what he’d find there. However, he appreciated the small touch regardless, even if it hurt after feeling nothing for so long. Would the pain ever stop? Did he want it to?

“Is that why you came here with Papy? Do you think what happened in your world could happen here?” Undyne asked. Her tone was stern, and urgent. It was surprising how quickly she’d turned her opinion around on his preposterous claim, and even more shocking how fast she’d picked up on the threat at hand. Color always knew that she was clever, but, to be completely honest, he still saw her as that young child who had stubbornly demanded he buy them ice cream so many years ago, and sometimes that made it harder for him to accept how much she’d grown. On top of that, he was still in denial himself about what had happened to his home.

Had she just asked him why he wanted to put a team together with so much urgency, he wouldn’t have known what to answer. Deep down he knew they had to do something before that world too was corrupted beyond repair, but his mind refused to wrap itself around it. Doing so would have meant acknowledging (truly) that there was no going back, there was no future reunion to look forward to, there was nothing waiting for him at the end of this little passion project he’d embarked upon. Had there been any other possibility, Gaster wouldn’t have pushed him out. The old man believed in fighting to the very end. Had he seen a way out, even an unlikely one, he would have reached for it with all of his might.

But there was none.

The human- anomaly- whatever the Hell She was- had won. It took years and so many RESETs, but it happened. He wondered if She was happy now, or if She simply went off to destroy whatever other copy of the world she’d gotten her grabby little hands on.

He hoped She was just as miserable as She made him.

It was unrealistic, but his hope would be the very last remnant of his world to die.

Despite all of Bravery’s help, he wasn’t able to summon any words. All he could do was look down at the half empty cup of lukewarm tea in his hands and nod.

“I Thought Our Goal Was To Save My Brother…” Papyrus muttered. He sounded a bit confused but, above all, his voice was dripping with disappointment.

Did he think that Color was turning his back on his brother like everyone outside of Grillby’s had? That he would forget about him and dismiss Papyrus’ concern with some possibly unfounded accusations? As if his brother being lost somewhere when there was a human set on killing everyone in the Underground who would soon come through was something to scoff at… He knew that the bar’s patrons couldn’t know about that last part. It didn’t matter how many times they’d been wiped out, they couldn’t remember it. Only Color, Papyrus, and (he assumed) Killer could. That said, he was still irritated by their attitude as they knew that the possibility was always there. Their King had six souls trapped in his basement, they knew.

“Something happened to Sans?!” Undyne screeched, her voice more shrill than he’d ever heard before. “Our Sans I mean” she added after a moment with a glance in his direction. It still didn’t feel like she fully believed his words (and who could blame her? What happened to him sounded like a plot straight-out of one of those anime she and Alphys loved to watch. Had he not found so many pieces of evidence to support the idea that he was no longer in his version of the Underground, he also would have doubted his own conclusions), however, she was trying to keep it respectful and not outright call him out on it, and he appreciated that.

Not wanting any misunderstandings to hang in the air too long, he immediately threw himself into another explanation, this time trying to keep his side tangents to a minimum. “Your Sans is under the control of one of the entities that destroyed my universe. I think. And so is the human that accompanies him in his carnage. Well… I’m assuming as much from our encounter earlier today”. They hadn’t behaved entirely like Her , and both of them seemed to have more free range to communicate with outsiders than any of Her puppets ever did. However, the human did have that damned RESET button… he wasn’t sure what to think. Perseverance theorized that maybe they were less vessels and more just followers of that kind of entity. Hopefully, if that was the case, getting them out unscathed would be easier. “This whole thing is rather confusing for me too, and I’m no expert. All I know is that if we just let them do their thing eventually there will be nothing for us to save. So we need a plan. We need a way to banish those beings once and for all. And you two are the only ones I could think to go to for help…”.

Gaster would have done a better job than him at conveying what they needed. Had he been the one who managed to leave the Void, he would have had a fully-formed plan and several backup ones. He would have had a whole ass list organized in alphabetical order!

Then again… it wasn’t like that had gotten them far before.

Their world was still gone. Everyone Sans had ever loved was gone. Everyone but the kiddos who were stuck to him against their will and who were trying to make the best of their situation, even though he could tell how much they missed having their own bodies. They’d never get that kind of independence again. All they could aim for was taking over their shared vessel here and there. And even that they couldn’t afford to do often, because Sans’ soul was much more unstable than theirs and could easily get snuffed out.

Everything would have been so much easier had he been able to claim that he hated Gaster for the position he put him in, the pressure he left him under. But he couldn’t. He resented it, of course, but he was just as grateful for the second chance he’d gotten at life. He couldn’t say that he totally loved it either, however, and it was partly because there was a little nagging voice at the back of his head that kept wondering if the old man had been able to do it all along… Could Color blame him if he made the selfish decision of keeping him by his side despite everything just to stave off the loneliness? The souls inside of him were split.

“I think we should talk with Alphys too” Undyne decided after a few moments of reflection. “She’s smart and this sounds like a smart people problem”.

Instead of answering with a silly quip about how the Great Papyrus was, of course, the most clever being in existence, his brother’s copy just nodded. His back was hunched still. He looked tired. And that was a feat for a guy who never slept and somehow still never ran out of energy.

Color wished he could wrap him up in a blanket and keep him somewhere safe.

Since he couldn’t do that (no version of his brother would ever think of allowing himself to hide away while someone he loved was in danger), however, he just agreed to Undyne’s suggestion as well.

Chapter Text

Sans’ recollection of Alphys was spotty at best.

He was aware of her role as the Royal Scientist and he knew that they’d once worked side by side at the lab. But their relationship had never evolved into one of friendship. Or, if it had, that aspect of it had long since disappeared from his memory.

There were a few more things he’d been able to deduce having her in front of him. The lab coat she wore wasn’t fit for her species, it hung awkwardly over her tail and dragged onto the floor when she walked. It was a tripping hazard and she had to readjust it constantly to avoid stepping over it. It belonged to someone else once, most likely a predecessor she did not feel like she could match up to. The chances that she struggled with impostor syndrome were high, and Sans couldn’t for the life of him remember how brilliant she actually was (he remembered that she was clever, of course, but not what field she excelled in, nor what feat had granted her the position she currently covered), so he didn’t know how to sooth her. The deep bags under her eyes and the nervous way she had of constantly scratching the top of her hands with her claws hard enough for some scales to come loose was a clear indication that her struggles didn’t end at how well she felt she measured up with the past either.

In general, while he couldn’t say with certainty that the two of them had been anything for each other beyond coworkers, Sans found himself wishing that they had. When he was younger, he could have used a friend. And she still could.

Seeing how close they stood, he could deduce that at least she had Undyne.

The Captain of the Royal Guard may not have been the same monster he remembered from his world. She didn’t possess the same innate elegance, she hadn’t been able to cultivate her passion for music as much as his sister had, and she was a bit more crass and obnoxious. But she still cared. Deeply. She kept those she loved at arm’s length, but still squarely behind herself, shielding them from everything she didn’t deem them fit enough to face.

In an ideal world, all of them would have been able to share their baggage with each other, to unearth all the secrets that were keeping them down, stopping them from achieving their full potential. But their world, much like Color’s, was less than perfect, and his three companions were doing their best with the cards they’d been dealt. And doing what they thought was right sometimes meant lying (either through deceit or omission) to those they loved most. A kind of sacrifice Sans was very familiar with.

Alphys caught onto what was happening very quickly once Color mentioned the alternate universes theory. She even contributed to the discussion with a simplified explanation of it: she introduced the Multiverse as a forest, every tree a different beginning, and every branch a possible ending. In that theory, all of them existed at once. Every possibility, no matter how unlikely, had come to fruition somewhere. It wasn’t a theory she’d ever given much credence to, but Color’s presence there all but confirmed it.

The short scientist produced an absurd amount of gadgets from her pockets. Things that Sans would once have known by name, but that, nowadays, he could do nothing but admire for their colorful displays of lights. Some of the kids whined about wanting to press all the buttons that covered every part of them that wasn’t a screen and he had to figuratively bat their hands away to keep them at bay (a painful endeavor when the urge to reach out and fidget with the pretty shiny things was just as strong within him). She used those to measure… something. What she got out of the machines was a string of code that he could only imagine to be the blueprint of his being, what he was at his core in a more complete sense than just looking at his forever dusting soul would have allowed. And from that, she was able to guess that he belonged to the same tree as them, he was likely to be only one branch removed from being their Sans.

It made sense. Gaster pushed him out of the Void and he hadn’t landed in his own world, so he must have tumbled to the closest universe after that. It was just that, with the many differences he’d already been able to spot between their worlds, he struggled to imagine that they could have been so interchangeable.

Had even just a tiny thing changed, instead of ending up in the Void with his father figure while his world restarted to account for his absence, he could have stood side by side with the human, hands covered in the dust of his family and friends alike. Both fates were grim and he couldn’t imagine choosing between them. Although, he supposed, at least Killer was remembered.

It didn’t matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he’d done his best and that he was at peace with the outcome he’d been faced with, knowing that his existence had been so superfluous stung. Knowing that the world would have been fine without him hurt. And knowing that it was so easy for him to disappear without any notice was excruciating.

Ironically, now his universe was at the mercy of the one they’d unwillingly left behind. Anything that faded from his mind would be gone forever. But, instead of making him feel vindicated, that only scared him. It wasn’t a case of him finally being in control, because there was no power for him to be had. Memories faded to make space for new experiences, it was a natural process, one he couldn’t stop, and he despised that. He wished above everything that he could hold onto it all. That he could forever immortalize it in a way that not even his death could erase. Because he’d been in their shoes and he knew how awful it was to one day not be remembered. There was no worse fate that he could think of.

Unfortunately, beyond repeating every fact he still remembered about his world over and over in his mind any time he had a moment, there was nothing else he could do. Patience even tried to show him images of cameras, their way to try to console him and remind him that if he held on a little longer, maybe he could discover a new passion and a road to healing at once. But, as much as he appreciated the suggestion, he didn’t think they fully grasped the fact that their universe was gone. There was nothing there left for him to photograph. There was nowhere for him to return. No new start to be had in a familiar place.

All they’d been left with was something different. Something new and alien.

The only saving grace he was afforded was that there was no time for him to be moping around and to surrender himself to despair. He couldn’t slow down when there was a whole universe in peril. Integrity was the only one of the souls to bring up the fact that this attitude couldn’t be healthy for him, and, since he was alone, his contributions were easily ignored (well, Sans acknowledged his words, of course. Those kids were already dead, the last thing they needed was to feel like specters in what was their body and their mind too. He just conveniently moved on without letting his concerns impact his decision making). Maybe he would come to regret that one day, but that was a problem for future him to deal with. He couldn’t be bothered.

Color, Alphys, Undyne, and Papyrus decided they had everyone they needed right there.

Alphys needed some time to get a read on what was happening so that she could come up with a plan to combat the anomalies’ influence, so it was up to the rest of them to buy her that time.

Undyne donned her armor complete with that creepy helmet all Royal Guards wore that made their eyes glow in the darkness of it, Papyrus checked that he had unobstructed access to all of his attacks, and Color… well, there wasn’t much he could do to prepare for the upcoming battle. Sans gave a pep talk to the souls and that was it. The comparison made him feel woefully unprepared for what was about to happen.

At least Bravery was hyped. He was ping-ponging around their shared mind, talking incessantly about how he would have disposed of the two menaces easily if he still had his old boxing gloves. Justice couldn’t stand it anymore after a while, and they very dryly brought up that he’d fallen right outside of the Ruins. His reckless behavior and readiness to fight hadn’t gotten him far at all. As a matter of fact, their cautious attitude and predisposition to standing up for what they believed in had apparently gotten them the furthest (even if they could remember none of it. They’d been able to figure out as much mainly from the fact that their toy gun and their cowboy had could be found in New Home still). And Kindness was the one who had survived the longest, and they all knew that her approach to things was to hug first and ask questions later.

Sans tried to intervene before Justice could take things too far with their lecture, but wasn’t able to. Bravery shut up entirely, his spark was gone, and their mind felt desolate without him. Perseverance quipping in with a: “Look at what you did” didn’t help either, because it just sent Justice recoiling as well, rendering them mute too.

The silence in his mind would have been more bearable had Papyrus and Undyne offered some chatter on the outside as they waited just beyond the Ruin’s door for their enemies (could Killer and the human even be considered that? They were trying to save them, but he had to remind his allies multiple times that they couldn’t hold back because of that. Those two were gonna come back after death, they weren’t. So they were gonna treat them as foes. But did that mean that they were or did that mean that Color’s approach was wrong?) to emerge, but they were just as silent. Too worried. Too focused. Too tense. They couldn’t find it in themselves to utter a single word and neither could Sans.

They waited there for hours.

At some point, Undyne started doing squats and push-ups to keep herself warm. Papyrus eventually joined them. He was surprisingly resistant to the harsh weather, so that wasn’t his issue, but staying still for long periods of time wasn’t something he was used to. Besides, if he was anything like Sans’ brother, then he would never pass on an opportunity to train his nonexistent muscles and hone his already impressive combat skills.

No word was spoken between the two even as they worked out side by side.

Color enjoyed the way frost was seeping into his bones. He loved the way snowflakes left shallow cuts on his weary bones. And, while once he would have found the experience of letting himself be drowned in snow wholly unpleasant, there was something alluring about being able to feel so much all at once now. So he didn’t move. He didn’t make any attempts at finding some reprieve from the harshness of the weather. He just stood stock still, eye lights fixed on the purple stone of the door. His mind was too numb and empty for him to be able to refuse the pain, his only anchor.

Eventually, the heavy stone door did creak open.

A heavy thud could be heard on the other side, and Color cringed, knowing what that indicated. Before they prevented any more RESETs from happening, he would force the human to do it one last time, he decided. Toriel and all the monsters that resided within those Ruins deserved to live just as much as those outside of them did. He would make them understand. One day.

Dust wafted out first, then laughter, and then, finally, their opponents stepped out of the darkness.

“It’s always so easy” the human boasted as they twirled a dusty toy knife in their hand. “She’s so gullible”. All the good humor vanished from their face at once as they caught sight of him, then of Undyne, and then of Papyrus. Their smile quickly morphed into a frown. “What the heck is happening today?!”.

Killer was nowhere near as bothered by their presence. It was almost as if he’d expected it and he was itching to get to it already. He was on Color in an instant. His fist connected with Color's skull and pain like he’d never felt before shot through his entire body. “I want to see what you’re made of” he whispered, low enough that not even his human leader could have heard him. “Don’t let me down”.

A shiver of excitement ran down Color’s spine.

Just like that, the fight had been engaged. There would be no running away this time, no resetting, not until they were done. Sans knew that he should have been terrified or at least concerned for the well-being of his brother’s and sister’s counterparts, but he trusted their strength and he felt like he needed it, so all he could feel was trepidation.

A smile settled on his face as his arms were enveloped in multicolored flames.

“I won’t” he promised.

Killer’s smile turned ever-so-slightly more genuine at that.

Chapter Text

Color was by no means a fighter.

He’d lived in the Void for decades as his world reshaped itself to accommodate his absence. And there were no enemies there, only him and his father figure. Still, he’d tried here and there to initiate a sparring session (usually by throwing the first punch and hoping for a reaction), but Gaster was a generally nonviolent guy even when provoked. Not because he was a particularly gentle soul, just because he’d never learned how to fight and refused to use the endless amount of time they had there in the empty nothing they were trapped within to learn. As if he had anything better to do when all his planning and thinking never led them anywhere…

Oftentimes, when he ended up experimenting with his newly acquired powers it was just because one of the souls got especially restless. The first one to crack was usually Bravery. Had the kid been born a monster, or maybe even later on in human society, he definitely would have been diagnosed with some kind of hyperactive disorder. Restlessness and boredom were his norm. He wasn’t the only only one subject to wanting to fuck around and find out, however. Perseverance was endlessly fascinated by magic. It was something that humans had lost centuries before she was ever born, so being able to summon fire and a variety of bullets was something she felt the need to study (fighting Killer, he was strongly reminded of her somewhat unethical methods and scientific drive, it made him want to save the other more). Justice too, for as much as they insisted they were the most level-headed in the room, was still fourteen. At that age, it was normal to have more energy than one knew what to do with. Besides, as long as they didn’t harm anybody, there was nothing wrong with them letting off a bit of steam against one of the crumbling columns that existed there in the Void (they were the only monster-made structure to be found there). Kindness too sometimes needed to move, but the games she proposed were never a simulation of combat, usually, they pretended to be adventurers off saving a pretty princess from peril.

Integrity and Patience, unlike the others, never complained about being still too long. Patience in particular often bemoaned the amount of exercise they put themselves through when there was so much sleep they would have liked to catch up on. Meanwhile, Sans always got the impression that Integrity would have liked to join the games, but the kid was the eldest and he always put an unfair amount of responsibility on himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to have fun until he was certain that everyone else was happy and safe, and he could never be entirely certain of that back in the Void, nor now that they had escaped it for that matter.

Since most of the times Color tested his powers it had been as a form of play, he didn’t have the best control over his magic. And that put him at a disadvantage against Killer who, as he could tell from the get-go, was trained to kill (just as his moniker implied), knew how to handle himself both in close combat as well as from further away, and never missed.

By the time Color understood that there was no point in dodging, he already had a bone sticking out of his shoulder and a few more cracks running through his skull. Kindness was putting all her effort into healing the body as the fight progressed, but, at the start, that effort had almost seemed futile. Thankfully, Justice soon reminded him that their magic could be used defensively just as much as it could offensively, and, with a shield in hand, they fared much better.

Nowhere near as many of his attacks landed. And, when they did, it was almost as if they hadn’t.

Killer didn’t look particularly sturdy. His handmade hoodie was fluffy and it afforded him a certain amount of protection from the elements, but it did nothing to protect him from the barrage of lasers that kept coming at him. And yet, despite everything, every time he was hit his smile just grew wider and he upped his efforts tenfold. In a way, he reminded Sans of the kids. Of the way they had persevered through every hardship, the Underground threw at them and came out the other side still holding onto their sense of identity. His opponent stubbornly refused to let anything keep him down for long. Not pain, not the distant pleas of his brother to come back home and stop the rampage before it was too late, and not even the blue magic Color used on his soul (with the latter being the oddest detail. He hadn’t understood that the red target floating in front of his chest was the very core of his being. It was unheard of for a monster to parade it around so freely, even in a peaceful little town like Snowdin, it could be dangerous to do. Even more baffling was the fact that Killer could continue fighting just leaving that very important piece of himself behind. It was horrifying to see. It shouldn’t have been possible for either a monster or a human to do. And, as much as he didn’t want to speculate, he was inclined to agree with Perseverance’s suggestion that maybe he was neither).

They’d been at it for a while when Color noticed that something wasn’t adding up.

From the corner of his eye socket, he would sometimes notice Undyne dealing the final blow to the human’s soul, he would clearly see it shatter, and then, a second later, he was once more getting punched in the face as if the whole fight had just started.

It wasn’t a RESET. He wasn’t stumbling through the forest, confused, and trying to figure out where he was and what his next move would be. It had to be something different, but it still messed with his perception of time. And, not only that, but every time, he struggled far more to remember what had happened before the time jump. There was no helpful sense of déjà vu to light up the dark fog of his memories. Even the pain that bloomed across his bones every time was nothing more than some scattered embers. It was enough to keep him tethered and reassure him that he wasn’t going insane, but not enough to give him some clarity.

Things worsened when, after yet another jump, Killer didn’t even try to hit him. He instead remained standing by the door to the Ruins, staring at his human leader with a neutral expression that, nonetheless, read as clear annoyance. He only turned back to Color after a good five minutes when he’d apparently decided that the fight had gone on long enough for his ally to maybe score a victory. Only for another jump back in time to happen right after that.

Had Color been more aware of what was happening, he might have called that latest disturbance in the timeline a mockery, clearly done to piss off their buddy. But, disoriented as he was, all he could do was keep himself from falling on his ass in the snow when Killer came at him once again.

At least the souls weren’t as affected as he was by what was happening. Perseverance had an especially high tolerance for that bullshit and had taken on the leading role. She wasn’t controlling their shared body as they wanted to avoid having Sans’ soul crumble to dust mid-fight (they didn’t know what would happen to the rest of them or their shared body if that was to occur), however, she had become almost a commander, yelling out orders and helpful reminders any time she saw fit. All while Integrity worked behind the scenes to keep the younger souls calm and focused on their own tasks.

Together, they were a well-oiled machine.

And, maybe, had they been the only ones fighting, they could have won. Their chances would have been low, none of them were soldiers after all, but there would have been the possibility.

Unfortunately, Undyne and Papyrus were there, and they didn’t have a gaggle of children impervious to time jumps there to keep them grounded and remind them to switch around their attack patterns. So it was inevitable that they would fall to the human when not even death could keep them down.

It could have been hours since the fight had first started, or it could have been mere minutes, but when it came to an end, it happened in what felt like an instant.

A moment of distraction cost Color everything. He heard Papyrus yell out for Undyne, his voice loud and devastated. The Captain of the Royal Guard hadn’t gone down without a fight. To the very last second, she held on to life. She didn’t dust like most others, she melted with a smile on her face and tears trickling down her cheeks. It was the first time Sans actually witnessed any version of his sister die, and maybe it shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it did since he’d barely just met this one, but his one good socket filled up with tears and his bones started shaking all the same, perfectly mirroring Papyrus’ reaction.

When Killer slammed him to the ground, it could maybe have counted as an act of mercy.

He could still hear Papyrus’ speech about how he believed in the human, how he believed that they could do better, that they could choose to be kind and choose to spare monsterkind. Just as he heard the human laugh at the idea and the sound of bones snapping when they stomped on his skull as he’d seen them do many times before. But he couldn’t see any of it. It was the first time that he’d been spared that sight despite not being trapped in the Void. He could still feel his soul shatter as grief and guilt consumed it, but at least he hadn’t been made to watch. It was the one good thing he could hang onto.

Because the worst part of being the last survivor of their little expedition was being hit by the realization that it had all been in vain. They couldn’t stop an enemy that wouldn’t remain dead. From the very beginning, they never had a single chance. They couldn’t even buy enough time for Alphys to figure something out, because the spacetime continuum kept being altered. They were utterly fucked.

And it was all his fault.

Color was the one who had kick-started that whole plan. He was the one who led Undyne and Papyrus to their slaughter. He was the one who’d been so busy with Killer that he’d neglected to help them (to whatever degree his confused state of mind would have allowed) and he was the one who had frozen up when it mattered the most. Once again, just like back then, he’d proven himself to be nothing but a failed experiment, too weak to save his world, and too weak to save this new one.

All he could do at that point was resign himself to his fate and accept that his life would come to an end.

As a final act of grace to the children who had been by his side for years, he closed his eye so that they couldn’t see the final blow coming. It would have been cruel to let them live through another traumatic death, for as much as Bravery begged him to do otherwise, to not lay down and surrender, to face his enemy head-on an kick-ass. He couldn’t do that to the kids, and he couldn’t do that to himself.

Sans was tired.

And yet, that final blow never came.

Instead, warm breath crashed against his cheek. “Stay down Firefly. I don’t know if a RESET can bring you back, so just stay down” the words were nothing but a hoarse whisper. The tone was one of pure surprise. As if Killer had been just as shocked by his act of compassion as Color was.

The barely-there touch lingered for only a moment, not enough to bring Color the comfort he desperately needed, and then it was gone. A whole mound of snow quickly replaced it, destroying that lingering warmth and hiding Color away from view.

He heard two pairs of steps retreat and banter resume as if the two people walking away hadn’t just committed a massacre.

Even once their voices faded, Color remained still. He let the frost invade his bones right down to his marrow. He let it freeze over his battered soul, almost wishing it would finish him off. It was painful and uncomfortably damp, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to get away from the sensation. Not when he knew that he deserved that and worse for failing everyone. Himself, the kids, Undyne, Papyrus, and his whole universe.

What a pointless existence.

The screams in his mind grew louder and louder. The kids were trying to get a reaction, any reaction, and he would have liked to give them that satisfaction, but he couldn’t. He was numb. Defeated. And oh so tired.

Perseverance filled his soul, and even that wasn’t enough to get him up. He directly caused the deaths of two monsters he promised to help. No amount of determination could fix that now. There was no point in getting up and chasing down Killer and the human. Not only were they likely far gone by then, but what could he do all by himself (a callous little voice in his mind tried to insist that he would fare better now that he had no emotional attachments holding him down. It felt alien and it was easily dismissed. He would have rather died than stopped caring after all)? All he could do was spit in the face of Killer’s mercy and get himself killed.

Color didn’t remain lying in a pile of snow for long, however.

Soon… Sans stumbled onto a snowy path with no grace, alone and lost in an unfamiliar frosted forest. After years spent with the constant absence of sensations that the void provided, the snowflakes slamming harshly against his bones felt surprisingly painful. They looked so delicate and yet he could swear they left a thousand tiny cuts on him. It was torturous… and yet familiar.

He blinked as recognition slammed into him just as it had once before.

Not all was lost, the souls chanted in unison. They had a chance to do things differently, to think of another plan, to tackle this in another way. Sans couldn’t give up. They begged him to promise them that, promise that, for as long as their spirits persisted, he wouldn’t lay on his side like an abandoned mutt and let himself perish of a broken heart. They wouldn’t forgive him if he did. Ever.

Sans was tired. Sans was numb. His soul hurt. His body hurt.

And yet, he promised.

Chapter Text

Sans and the souls took a moment to consider their options.

Trying to brute force things had led to a tragic end, so repeating that strategy and hoping it would lend them better results wouldn’t work. However, there was another more sneaky approach they could go for. Integrity was the one to come up with it.

He pointed out that Killer and the human, possessed as they may have been, seemed to be after their own entertainment. The first time they RESET, right after meeting Color, was likely because they feared he could put an end to their fun too early. His wild display of magic (with multicolored flames coming out of his cracked skull and sliced ribs) must have thrown them for a loop. The second time they met, they were already expecting it, so the impact wasn’t as great. And, because of that, they only RESET after they were done with their rampage. Likely, after there was nobody left they could find to kill. It was possible that some survivors had remained; there were some great hiding spots strewn around the Underground, but they weren’t worth sniffing out for what little EXP they could provide.

So what if they just made it so that everyone (or as many people as they could manage, at least) was too hard to find to make killing them worth it? What if they fought violence with boredom instead of more violence? What if they tackled the root of the issue instead of trying to deal with the results? They couldn’t play on the defensive if they hoped to change things. That’s what their last encounter had proven to Integrity. They needed to be proactive. They needed to hit them in the only place where it would hurt.

There were a few flaws with that plan.

For starters, Color doubted his ability to convince everyone to evacuate. His years spent in the Void had left him with subpar social skills, and it showed. It had been a miracle that Papyrus bothered to listen to him at all, and the fact that he did only spoke to his infinite kindness, not to Color’s persuasiveness.

Aside from that, reaching the whole underground at once wasn’t feasible. Not unless he had some help so that he could go work in the Ruins while someone else tackled the rest. And, based on how little time it took Killer and the human to get through the Ruins before, he knew that he didn’t have the time to teleport to Alphys’ lab (if he even remembered how to do that still) and explain everything about alternate universes and time travel to her so he could get her on his side.

However, with so little time to think, Sans found that those obstacles had to be tackled quickly and that he couldn’t slow down to think about them too much. He was already running toward the camera he knew to be next to the entrance to the Ruins before he could finish thinking things through.

Once he reached the bush it was hidden in, he roughly pushed the prickly branches covering it aside and pointed it up at his face. “I need you to get everyone hidden. Get Mettaton on air. Blast it from every intercom you have. They have to be impossible to find. I don’t have time to explain who I am or why, but please. Please trust me. I need your help, Dr. Alphys”. As soon as he’d uttered that final plea that he could do nothing but hope didn’t go unheard, he pushed himself up, ignoring all the aches in his creaking joints, and summoned a hand blaster.

He couldn’t teleport somewhere he couldn’t visualize, that much he knew, even after all that time. And he hadn’t been inside the ruins before. Not even back in his own world. After all, he’d been created after King Asgore and Queen Toriel had separated, and the entrance had been sealed ever since. He remembered trying to find holes he could sneak in through as a child, but he’d never succeeded in his endeavor. And neither had his brother and sister once they were old enough (and mischievous enough) to learn about all the legends surrounding the place, most of which were undoubtedly nothing more than horror stories meant to scare kids away from it, and want to take a crack at the adventurer's lifestyle themselves. Undyne especially was ecstatic at the idea of fighting the dangerous human guards that were rumored to be stationed at the entrance of the Underground (it was the most popular explanation as to why they’d never attempted sneaking past the Barrier that way) and proving her worth. Growing up, she had calmed down a lot.

This time, he didn’t try his luck finding an entrance.

With one hit, the locked door that hid untold mysteries from him his whole life crumbled.

The recoil made Color stumble for a moment, but Justice (who had a feeling they’d grown up shooting back before they’d ever fallen into the underground) helped keep them steady. With a modicum of effort, instead of falling on his butt, he used the momentum to stumble forward. And, as soon as he was stable enough on his feet, he started running like his life depended on it.

Because it kind of did.

Killer had been merciful once, but there was no reason to believe he would be again. On the contrary, it was likely that if he came across Color trying to ruin his fun by shooing away as many Ruin monsters as he could (he wasn’t too sure of what he could find in there aside from the occasional ghost) he would regret ever having spared him in the first place and would quickly rectify his mistake. If that were to happen, Color hoped that Alphys heed his pleas and already started getting everyone to safety. And, more than that, he hoped that Papyrus (who seemingly was able to retain his memories after RESETs) would understand what he was going for and would keep the ball rolling even if he didn’t come back. His brother had always been a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. He just tended to think a little differently than most. So Color’s hope was strong.

Color didn’t waste time admiring the ornate door he’d just destroyed, nor wondering what material could be that made the rudimentary stone walls around him appear such a bright purple. He would have loved to explore if given the chance. And perhaps one day that opportunity would present itself, once he was done freeing that new world from its anomaly and maybe once he’d figured out for certain what had happened to his own world. But that day was far off into the future and all he did at that moment was run.

After reaching the end of the long ass corridor that separated the bulk of the Ruins from its exit, he reached another door that he blasted a hole through, this time making sure he wouldn’t use quite as much force so that he could minimize the risk of his shoulder dislocating. Skeletons’ bodies were held together by strong magic, so it was rare for them to malfunction, however, Color wasn’t entirely a skeleton. He wasn’t even a skeleton for the most part, he just had the body of one. And his stay in the Void had taught him pretty quickly that his body was weak. It cracked easily, certain pieces struggled to remain attached, his joints kept locking up, preventing any movement, and his bones kept popping out of their sockets. Thinking about it, he realized that all of those issues had been less pronounced ever since he left the Void. However, they were still something that concerned him and they were something that could slow him down significantly if he wasn’t careful.

Passed the second door, the corridor curved to the right and then ended on a long flight of stairs that Color took two at a time.

Instead of emerging in a public square as he’d expected, he ended up at the entrance of someone’s cozy home. From the brief glance he caught of a tuft of white fur wafting in the air, he figured it must have been Toriel’s home, to Sans’ and Kindness’ relief. The others didn’t have a strong opinion on the old Queen any which way. Patience only sent through the picture of a steaming slice of pie and a comfortable-looking chair in front of a fireplace about it, which seemed positive, but with them, it was always hard to tell. That said, they all agreed that she was more likely to forgive a sudden home invasion than most. They also all agreed that she would be the hardest to convince that the human was dangerous. Thankfully, as she seemed to live furthest away from the Surface entrance of the Underground, she would be the last of their obstacles if they played their cards right.

They sneaked past the opening to the living room where the old Queen was fast asleep and then went out through the front door and started running once more. Ignoring the creepy dead tree in front of the house ended up being quite the feat because Perseverance was fascinated by it. Thankfully, all Sans needed to do to get her to focus again was promising that, once their mission was over, they would be coming back to study it.

The path through the rest of the Ruins was mostly linear and easy to follow. Color found the toy knife that the human had been wielding both times he’d seen them in one of the very few dead ends that there were and quickly took it and stashed it away in his pocket. They probably would have been able to kill every monster around even with their bare hands, especially since they wouldn’t stay dead, but he hoped that would be at least a minor annoyance. Mainly because he was feeling spiteful. Being forced to witness a version of his sister dying in front of him and then hear a version of his brother do the same soon after had left him in quite a sour mood (his flames were even more pointy and agitated than whenever Gaster decided to give him one of his long and pointless lectures). Go figure…

Avoiding dangerous-looking holes in the floor and suspiciously-placed patches of foliage (seriously, where were all those leaves coming from? The only tree they’d seen was naked and black. Possibly entirely rotted and yet still somehow standing), they didn’t encounter anyone in the first couple of rooms they traversed. That was, until they got to a longer rectangular room with three monsters he’d never seen before- at a better look, he noticed that there were three similarly-sized ones and a miniature version of the same amphibian-like beings. They resembled some of the Final Froggits he’d met in the CORE before, but they were significantly less scarred and lacking the usual crown those guys loved to wear. Some of their other features were also different, but not enough to immediately jump out to him after so long since he’d last been in the CORE.

A quick check revealed a very sad ‘Life is difficult for this guy’ state. Knowing that it was about to get a lot harder for them unless he acted quickly strengthened his resolve even more.

Color approached the monster closest to him. “Hey” he greeted, keeping his voice low not to spook them, and also because he was completely out of breath after running the whole way there.

“Ribbit ribbit” was all the monster answered. And yet, somehow, Color understood them perfectly. Although it would have been more accurate to say that the human souls within him resonated with the message and shared its meaning with Sans. “I have heard that you’re quite determined for a skeleton…” was what it truly meant.

The fact that they already knew that left him a bit baffled. That said, if they knew his mission and understood his intentions, that only made it easier for him to convince them to run into hiding. Hopefully. He could have used a helping hand at that moment since he was entirely out of his depth trying to talk to people.

Not for the first time since he’d arrived in that strange world, he wished that Gaster had been there instead. Or perhaps that he’d been there also. His father figure was always happy to chat away with anyone willing to listen (which in the Void had only been Color and only sometimes. He shuddered thinking of him all alone, with no one there to bounce his ideas off of. Was he still alive? Would that have been a better outcome than him disappearing like the rest of his loved ones, or would death have been a mercy?). There was no doubt in his mind that he would have handled the pressure of socialization and having to play hero much better than him.

And yet, soul filled with Justice and Perseverance, he threw himself in the best explanation he could. “Some very dangerous people are about to come through here. They’re not gonna show any mercy. Please hide and get as many people as you can to hide as well”. He was wringing his hands together and glancing at the other monsters in the room nervously. All of them had turned to look at him and listen to what he had to say. Even the ant-sized one hidden away in one of the many cracks in the wall (that one, at least, there was a good chance Killer and the human wouldn’t find).

After a moment of consideration, the Final Froggit lookalike spoke up once more: “Ribbit ribbit” it said, which, in Color’s head, translated as: “I’ll tell all of my friends to tell their friends’ friends. The Ruins will know. But no one dares to approach Toriel”. The underlying request was obvious.

Convincing the old Queen would be up to Color, and he was not looking forward to it.

From what he remembered of her, she was stubborn to a fault. She was a kind and compassionate soul, only trying to do what was right. Trying to protect the poor children who passed through that miserable cage. They weren’t at fault for their ancestors’ cruelty, and yet they were the only ones who paid for it. Her mission was noble, but it didn’t take into account that, sometimes, kids could be cruel too. And, if not them, the entity that controlled them sure was. She was merciless.

Still, for as reluctant as he was, he knew that he would have never been able to forgive himself if any harm were to come upon her. So he asked the little guy in front of him one final question: “Do you know where she is?”. Maybe she was still where he’d left her, fast asleep in her chair, but he was also fairly sure he hadn’t taken the most direct path to that room, and she could have overtaken him. It was better to be safe than sorry.

The monster in front of him hopped toward the small one in the crack in the wall and whispered something to them. The smallest of the bunch disappeared and, after a few moments, it reappeared and delivered the answer to the other’s question. The whole exchange left one of the other guys incredibly confused. They were looking at the wall as if they’d seen a ghost and they were muttering under their breath: “Ribbit ribbit” or “There are four frogs!” over and over again.

There was something amusing about the fact that not even hearing that they were in mortal danger managed to leave them so unsettled. Was life truly so hard for all of them that the prospect of death didn’t bother them, but a change in their routine did? If so, he would need to do his best to help them out once the whole ordeal with the anomaly was over.

The monster he’d been talking to soon hopped back toward him. “Ribbit ribbit” it said once more, which this time meant: “She rose from her slumber and is coming this way. Wait by the old tree. We’ll take care of the rest”.

And so he did.

Chapter Text

Color let himself fall backward into the Void. His eyes were shut as he did so. All the souls knit themselves together, anxiety thrumming through their shared consciousness, loud as static. It was all over in an instant, and yet it still took him a moment to allow himself to look around yet again and regain his footing.

Teleportation had once come to him as natural as existing.

Back before he’d been erased from existence, he had used it for the most mundane of reasons. It allowed him to run more sentry stations than anyone else in the Underground, but he would have been lying if he said that such a noble reason was the only one he used to justify his excessive splurge of energies. Sometimes he wanted a burger and, well, Grillby’s was only a small fall away. Sometimes he wanted to check in on his siblings during his break on the days he was performing his comedy nights at Mettaton’s Resort, and thankfully, his home was always within reach for him. And, sometimes, the extra mobility came in handy during combat, especially for a monster as weak and fragile as him (a failed experiment if Gaster’s words were anything to go by).

Now, while he still recognized the necessity for it in certain circumstances, he tried to steer clear of it as much as possible. Taking a shortcut once already put a strain on his soul; the ever-present vice grip of anxiety on it only tightened, which made rainbow pearls of sweat bead all over his bones.

And that was without even considering the harm it brought to the souls.

Humans were more compact than monsters. Their bodies and souls weren’t built for alternative forms of travel nor for extended uses of magic. They were great sources of it, but they weren’t good at channeling it themselves, which is why the ultimate form of being had been considered hybrids once upon a time. A monster that absorbed a human soul into their being became something completely other, an almost unstoppable force capable of leveling armies single-handedly. Or that’s what the stories said, at least.

In Color’s lived experience, the most that combination amounted to was a lot of cool visuals and very little substance. But maybe they’d just been unlucky and, instead of having their best traits combine when they were forcefully merged together, only their weaknesses joined forces. So now he was left with the weak body of a monster and the aversion to teleportation of six human children that had never before undertaken any means of long-distance travel that wasn’t by foot or horse.

Nausea sure felt weird when they lacked the proper organs required to experience most of the symptoms…

By the time Toriel made her way out of her cozy little abode, thankfully, the worst of the sickness had subsided. Color still couldn’t manage to stand by himself, but the black tree that he’d spotted earlier and had used as an anchor point for his landing functioned well as a support. It was sturdier than its rotten appearance would have led one to believe.

While he did feel better, he knew his skull still looked greener than if he’d taken a bite out of Papyrus’ spaghetti after so long of eating none, so it wasn’t surprising when the old Queen rushed to his side with the disposition of an overly-concerned mother. She’d always been the caring type, from what he could remember. Her warm voice and inviting character had helped Sans through some of his worst days. Back when he’d found himself alone, barely out of stripes himself, raising two kids. At the time, he’d been drowning in a sea of responsibilities.

Sans had never been meant to be a father, of that he was certain. He didn’t have the energy to keep up with a small hyperactive pile of bones and a hot-headed fish with a big case of cuteness aggression, all while working several low-paying jobs that barely allowed him to make ends meet.

The day he discovered the voice beyond the old door to the ruins was one of the worst ones in his life before She ever came into the picture. Kids at school had been picking on Papyrus, and Undyne had ended up in trouble with the principal for standing up against the bullies a little too well. Not knowing how to handle the situation, he’d lightly scolded her on their way back, which had resulted in an all-out screaming match between the two of them. She refused to just stand down and accept injustice in the name of keeping the peace. She had no patience for dickheads, and she emphasized more than once. Once they got home, she shut herself in her room and refused to come out. She even refused dinner and the usually effective nice cream bribe.

And Papyrus, ever the empath, had struggled to keep anything down himself. He hadn’t cried, but the puffiness of his eye sockets betrayed how close to it he’d been.

There was nobody Sans could turn to for advice. Usually, anyone he asked flippantly told him to go to a family therapist, as if he could afford that. And none of the books on child psychology he’d fished out of the dumpster provided him with a magical solution either. The best he’d managed to do was put Papyrus to sleep, whisper goodnight to Undyne through her door, and then go for a walk to hopefully push all of his feelings of inadequacy down where they wouldn’t bother anyone anymore.

He’d walked further than he’d meant to, and he collapsed against the door. And then, believing himself alone and far, far away from anyone who could have been impacted by his tears, he had let himself come undone and vent all of his frustrations to the wind. Except nature hadn’t been the only one to hear his cries. There was a voice there who listened attentively and offered him the comfort he so desperately needed as well as some practical pieces of advice coming from someone who, much like him, had once raised a very sensitive kid, and a more hot-tempered one that was always prone to get in trouble.

She’d been the one who helped him get a job as the Royal Judge, although she’d warned him of how taxing it would be. Ultimately, though, it had been worth it for the pay. Through the years, she’d been a friend and a mentor to him. He’d seen her only in pictures and portraits whenever he visited Asgore’s castle, and yet it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that she was the one he was closest to after his two kiddos.

Seeing her again after so long brought forth a ton of emotions he didn’t have the time to unpack. The biggest one of all, however, was relief.

Relief at finding her alive. Relief at having someone fuss over him for once (something he never got to experience as he’d had to shed his stripes early to step up for his brother). And, above all, relief at having gotten there in time. There was no trace of Killer or the human yet. Color had a chance.

“Oh my… you look injured, little one”. Toriel’s paw was the size of his skull, and yet it didn’t hurt him when she pressed it against his weary bones. Much like her voice, her movements were gentle. Kind. It wasn’t long before green magic flowed freely from her palms, mending what little it could.

Unfortunately, most of Color’s wounds could not be healed. Fragments of his being had been consumed by the unforgiving Void. His bones were now brittle, and the cracks marrying them were just as permanent as the colorful flames coming out of them.

After basking in the warmth of healing magic for a couple of minutes (and letting Kindness replenish her reserves as he did so), he gently wrapped his bony fingers around her wrist and lowered her fluffy white paw. There were some complaints about it from the younger kiddos, but it had to be done. Sans knew that most of the souls couldn’t remember their own parents, and even those who did (like Patience, for example, and, he suspected, also Perseverance, although she was never too forthcoming with what her memories consisted of) still craved a good parental figure. They had him, but again, he wasn’t made to be a dad, and he wasn’t always the best at it.

It was easier for him to cover the role of older brother, although he did try to be there for them in the way they needed as much as he could manage. Especially since he knew that Integrity tended to don the mantle of the authority figure any time he slacked off. And, for as mature as he was, he was still a teen, and he didn’t deserve the pain that came with growing up too fast. No one did.

“My Queen” he started, only to be immediately interrupted by Toriel waving away the title bashfully. “None of that, you can just call me Toriel or Tori” her tone was firmer than usual. He’d only ever heard her speak like that when she’d made him promise that he wouldn’t harm her child unless it was his very last option. So, recognizing the weight behind her words, he obeyed the order without hesitation. “Tori, I’m here to warn you of a grave danger. One that hopefully the rest of the Ruins are already hiding from”. He took a moment to try and compose his thoughts. Being vague was easy, but he would need to get into some of the more unbelievable details of the situation to get her to understand why she needed to go along with his plan. Because of that, he kept his eye light on her soft paw, not wanting to see if he’d already lost her. Being so bad at talking to people was the worst curse he could have had at that moment. “I know that what I’ll say will sound unbelievable, but I need you to give me a chance. I-I don’t want anything to happen to you…”.

Too many times he’d sat with his back against the door listening to the eerie silence on the other side, knowing that there was nobody left to answer to his pleas. Too many times, he had been made to imagine a pile of dust in her place. While she arguably wasn’t family, it hurt just as much.

Even when he knowingly spared himself from that pain, he could still tell whenever the time came to judge his own human. He could always read it in their STATs. He could tell how thorough they’d been, how many lives they’d ended, who they’d chosen to spare, and who hadn’t been quite as lucky. There hadn’t been a single time that her name had not been among those of the fallen.

Grief was tiring.

“I promise to you that I will listen” Toriel reassured him. It wasn’t quite her giving him a chance yet, but it was a decent start, and he wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

With a deep breath, he once again launched himself into an explanation of what was going on. He didn’t have any faith in it working. Hope had never been Sans’ strong suit despite it being the main component of his soul. Thankfully, there were six very brave and surprisingly optimistic kids there to give him courage. Bravery, especially, was very vocal about his desire to just rip off this band-aid and move forward. His boundless energy was contagious. “My name’s Color. I come from another world that was destroyed by an entity that is now here. Me and a couple of others tried to stop it by force, but we… we failed… and… and… and…”. What was the best way to explain that time had been RESET? That she had already died at least twice since he’d gotten there? That he didn’t know what he was doing? That his current plan was based on a lot of assumptions and some very flimsy connections drafted up by a dead teen? Why was it always so hard to help people?

Was Color just not cut out for it?

Was that it?

Was he doomed to fail from the start because of his own incompetence?

“And we now decided to take a different approach” a voice younger than his, and yet colder and far more calculated, escaped his teeth. “We’re playing hide and seek this time!” a young, giggly girl spoke through him. “We’re taking the beat ‘em with boredom approach to this knife fight” a boisterous voice added loudly, his mouth twisted into a smirk as he did so. “The likelihood of this plan succeeding is not much higher than the last, however, it’s still worth trying. Anything is better than giving up” another female voice, this time calmer and more factual, joined the conversation. “The important thing isn’t for us to win, it’s for them to lose. They deserve their comeuppance” the last voice concluded, filled with righteous fury.

Color never knew that the kids could do that.

Patience was the only one who didn’t add to the conversation, but they still supported all the others from the back of their shared mind by making them all feel how proud he was of the rest of them.

Toriel blinked a few times, confused, shocked, and taken aback by that whole display. Once the initial wave of messy emotions wore off, however, she teared up and she quickly pulled Color into a hug. “I could recognize my children everywhere, even if they’re not really mine. I can’t say I fully understand what is going on, but I promised each and every one of you that I would protect you once upon a time. I may have failed to do so in the past, but if there is something I can do now to rectify that, I will”. Despite the abundance of emotions that must have been flooding her soul, he voice didn’t waver. It wasn’t the time for that kind of vulnerability, and she knew that. Unlike Sans, she was an expert at steadying herself when things got dire.

Once more, relief flooded Sans’ battered soul.

Hopelessness had kept him under for so long that he’d forgotten that he wasn’t swimming alone anymore. He didn’t have to do everything by himself. He was the caretaker of the kiddos, sure, but they weren’t nearly as defenseless and unprepared as he tended to think they were.

Besides, those around him were wonderful people. They weren’t exact copies of the ones he’d left behind, but they were no more cruel than them. And he was doing them a disservice, always assuming that the worst possible outcome would come to be if he went to them for help. His sister would have told him to get his head out of his ass and drop the self-deprecating attitude if she could see him now. And his brother would have seconded that message, albeit a bit more nicely.

“Let’s hide then” he said.

Toriel nodded. “There is an old room that I don’t think they’ll be able to enter. Let’s go there”. With that, she offered him her paw, and he let her guide him to safety.

It wasn’t up to him to save he rest of the underground. Their lives rested on Alphys’ shoulders. All he could do was trust that she would listen to his desperate pleas for help. And, after that encounter with Toriel, he couldn’t help but be a bit more optimistic about his chances.

Chapter Text

The room Toriel took Color to was, surprisingly, not under construction like the sign hanging on its door claimed.

While it was rather simplistic (no posters hung from the walls, the beds were made, and no little trinkets decorated every available surface), it was fully furnished. Two single beds had been pressed against opposite walls. Next to the one on the left, there was a locked wardrobe with a dusty mirror hanging from one of its doors, and an open chest full of mismatched shoes of varying colors and sizes. A doll and a little goat plushy had been tucked under the covers with their heads resting on the pillow. Next to the bed on the right there was a dresser with a framed photo on top of it of Toriel, a human child that looked a Hell of a lot like the one going around killing everybody, a small goat monster with a huge bright smile that could light up a room, and who he could only assume to be Asgore (identifying him had been made harder by the fact that a flower sticker had been placed over his face).

It didn’t take a genius to understand what the room was for.

It was a mausoleum.

The corpses of Toriel’s dead children weren’t there, but the function of that place was the same nonetheless. It was somewhere she could go to feel close to them. Maybe talk to whatever presence she could imagine still lingering in the air.

It was a space so private and sacred that Sans couldn’t help but feel like his mere presence was soiling it. He should not have been allowed in there. The kids were a different story; they were innocent, young, and they’d been loved by the old Queen all the same. They had been hers once upon a time. He was sure that, if he looked closely, he’d be able to find little mementos of each of them as well, peppered around the room. Other than the shoes, which every soul within him immediately excitedly pointed at. It wasn’t often that they found something they could clearly remember, something that had once been theirs. Sort of, since they were in an alternative universe. But Sans was nothing like them. He wasn’t a lost child who had wandered up a mountain he’d been warned against, pushed by hopelessness, despair, or curiosity; he was just a failed experiment some guy created in his basement. And he’d done some horrible stuff in his life. He killed the last fallen human again and again, he did nothing as his friends were slaughtered en masse, he got distracted while another version of his brother and sister were defeated and brutally murdered… he was not a good person.

In an attempt not to touch anything of importance there and not stand awkwardly in place either, he walked up to the old dirty mirror and gently wiped the surface of it clean with the sleeve of his hoodie (as much as he could reach of it at least).

“Despite everything, it’s still you” Perseverance whispered as soon as Color was able to see his reflection. He watched as the flames coming out of his skull turned fully purple and curled into the shape of a teenager with fake glasses and a book in hand. She wasn’t looking at herself, however, she was looking at whatever remained of Sans’ soul buried in his rib cage.

Sans rolled his eye and huffed. “You’re being cheesy again, Percy”. It wasn’t a critique, even if it was phrased like one. He appreciated her attempt at making him feel like he belonged there among them. It was unusually sweet of her. Unfortunately, his self-esteem was a bit too far gone to recover so quickly.

Still, the teen apparently liked his poor attempt at a jokey remark, because she disappeared within the fire once more with a creepy little laugh that was far more like her than the earlier comforting words.

Toriel was left baffled by that whole exchange. In part, probably because she could only hear one side of it.

She joined him by the mirror and cleaned up the upper part of it that he couldn’t get to on his own. “I don’t come here often” she explained apologetically. Maybe she thought that he’d approached the mirror because he couldn’t stand to see any amount of mess, instead of the real reason for it, which was that it seemed to be the object there with the least amount of sentimental value tied to it. He figured it was the one thing he couldn’t ruin. Had she been able to see his old bedroom in his world, she would have likely discovered the truth (as his brother had always said, he was a bit of a trash gremlin). Did that place still exist? The True Lab remained after Gaster and his followers were erased from reality, but Sans' disappearance had been much more entwined with the code of the world. Years of history had to be rearranged to accommodate for it. His brother and sister got new backgrounds, new lives, new stories. He doubted any trace of him had lingered. “It’s not that I don’t want to” the old lady continued after a few moments of silence “Sometimes remembering is just so… draining”.

Color hummed in thought. “But you wouldn’t want to be forgotten, would you?” his tone came out harsher than he’d meant it. It sounded as if he was scolding her when he knew he had no right to do so. He didn't know what it was like to be tasked to remember, he only knew the pain of being forgotten. 

Memories were just a touchy subject.

He knew that he'd been erased from the minds and souls of those he once knew, and would one day fade from the history of the new world he landed in as well. He couldn’t live forever, he was mortal. Probably. As the first hybrid between a monster and several humans who had mostly come to be within the Void, he couldn’t be certain of anything, but it was hard to look at his cracked and aching body and think of it as something that would last. One day, he’d turn to dust, and all the souls trapped within him would finally be able to rest. And, slowly, those very few who knew him would also disappear. Maybe with the exception of Gaster, who was trapped somewhere without time, but his memory was that of a mortal, and one day his mind too would need to get rid of him to make space for new, more useful knowledge. Maybe it already did.

So, yeah, he was well aware that few were remembered by history, and someone as unremarkable as him would never be among them.

However, he wished others made as much of an effort to delay that inevitability as he constantly did for them (even if they hadn't asked him to do so, even if they didn't know, even if it was pointless when he'd never see them again). Was that too much to ask?

To his surprise, the old queen didn’t take offense at his brashness. The people of that world were almost all so astonishingly kind that it filled him with hope. “I don’t know…” Toriel admitted quietly. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I wouldn’t mind those being forgotten. And… sometimes I do hope… I’m full of resentment toward Asgore, but I do hope that he’ll forget me. I hope he’ll move on. Being stuck in the past as he is, is a horrible curse”. Gently, she rested one of her big, warm, fuzzy paws against his cheek before he could even think to come up with a rebuttal. “If you’re afraid of it, my sweet child, maybe instead of looking to the past for reassurance I could persuade you to look at the future?”. To explain what she meant, she opened one of the drawers of the dresser and pulled out an old Polaroid camera alongside a couple unopened packs of blank Polaroids. “Asriel was always a fan of these things. Pictures, recordings… they helped him save all the moments in time he held most precious. I used to enjoy photography as well, but… recently I can’t find that spark anymore”. She turned around and offered all that she’d retrieved to Color. “I’m sure you’ll make a better use of this old junk than that old rickety drawer, yeah?”.

Reverently, Color wrapped his phalanges around the strap attached to the camera and secured it to his bony neck, then he took the unopened stacks of blanks and stashed those in his pocket. The kids were all giddy at the idea of having a new toy to play around with, and they urged him to try out. Sans, ever the softhearted bastard when it came to them, acquiesced. He used his blue magic to pull Toriel close to him, and she bent down with a giggle.

In the picture he took, their expressions were goofy. Toriel puffed up her cheeks and widened her eyes as much as she could to make it comical, and Color could see a total of six fiery hands making bunny ears behind his head. It was precious, and he would treasure it.

One RESET would likely be enough to destroy it for good, but the memory would persist in his mind and soul. And the passion for photography that had been created within him that day would last for as long as he did; he could feel it.

Before they could take any more silly pictures together, a pair of feet stomped down the hallway of the room they were hiding in, followed by an almost imperceptible shadow (Killer was in many ways far more dangerous than the human he obeyed due to his stealthiness. And, while Color felt a certain degree of protectiveness toward the other skeleton, he needed to keep that in mind). Reflexively, Toriel pushed Color behind her and prepared herself for combat. It was nice to know that she’d taken his messy and rushed warning seriously (or so it seemed for just a moment).

The human slammed open the first two doors they found, then, unsatisfied with the absence of anyone waiting in those bedrooms to surprise them, they let out a loud, frustrated scream. “This makes no sense!” they yelled “What is going on? The only idiot we found was Flowey! And Toriel didn’t even come to stop his attack! This is stupid. This is unfair. I’m not even having fun…”. Once again, the fact that they were nothing more than a misguided child hit Color like a truck. Their tone was petulant, they were throwing a temper tantrum, and they were upset at the absence of the old queen (who he could now only assume had once been their mother) for all the wrong reasons, but were nonetheless still huffy at not receiving her help when they’d expected it. They were a kid. A violent, genocidal, and possibly possessed little child.

For as much as Color resented them and was scared of them because of what he’d already witnessed them do, he still couldn’t help but pity them a little bit.

His resolve to help both them and Killer hardened.

“My child…?” Toriel whispered, confused, hopeful, hesitant, and scared all at once.

Before Color could try to stop her, she was out of the room. And, swearing a bit under his breath, he followed hot on her trail.

To stop Toriel from delivering herself on the sharpened stick the kiddo was holding tightly in their palm, Color teleported right in front of her, facing the human. “Toriel, wait! I know they look like your child, but they’re dangerous!”.

The old Queen didn’t listen to him. She gently pushed him aside, exclaiming: “Nonsense!”. After witnessing the little room she’d built, likely a replica of the one her kids once had back home, and left untouched even after all those years, he knew that there was no hope of reasoning with her. The weapon the human was holding was in full view, and even that wasn't enough to put a halt to her suicidal approach.

Instead of saying anything else, he wrapped her soul in blue magic and yanked her back to him before pushing her back into the room and slamming the door closed. He was left huffing and panting by the effort that had taken. He knew he couldn’t survive a fight in those conditions. But maybe he could hold the door shut long enough for Toriel to understand that it was life or death and that she needed to lock herself in, maybe even push all the furniture she could in front of the entrance for good measure (had she been a wiser woman, she would have done so already. But emotions were at the core of the being of most monsters, and she couldn't be faulted for falling in that category).

Killer and the human watched the entire scene with matching curiosity.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?” Killer asked once Toriel had disappeared from view. “The empty Ruins, I mean. Maybe also that missing knife”. He was grinning as he spoke, and he interrupted himself to let out a shrill laugh. “You have not let me down yet, Firefly”.

The human pulled a disgusted face at the nickname, and Color could hear Percy groan in annoyance in his mind as well. Those two could have been such good friends under different circumstances…

“He’s breaking our game!” the human whined yet again, stomping one foot repeatedly on the ground and crossing their arms with a pout. They were glaring at Killer, but it looked to be less out of anger and more because it was the only thing they could think to do to keep themselves from crying.

At that look, Killer’s shoulders slumped.

The two of them remained locked in a staring contest for a while, then Killer sighed, teleported next to Color, grabbed his wrist, and pulled both of them through a shortcut and off to Waterfall. “There, this should be far enough for their highness to have some fun without your interference”. He stepped back, probably trying to go back the way he came, but Color stopped him, instinctively grabbing onto his sleeve. “What?”.

“Stay?”. He pointed around so the other could notice that they were entirely alone, as he already had. Alphys had seemingly pulled through, because the Ruins weren’t the only empty area there was. “If you just stay and talk with me instead of going back, I promise I’ll make it worth your while”. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard. Maybe he hoped that the human would be more hesitant to get into fights without their loyal servant by their side. Maybe he just wanted to take the first opportunity that had presented itself to understand his enemies a bit better. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be alone again.

Whatever the reason, he was relieved when Killer shrugged and plopped himself down right there on the wet moss. He pulled out a couple of plastic gloves from his hoodie pockets before touching anything with his hands, then he patted the ground next to him to invite Color to join him.

What an odd guy that he was.

Of course, Color didn’t hesitate to take the offer.

Sitting so close to the other had its dangers, especially when Color was already so tired, and when his emotions were all over the place (he was worried about Toriel’s safety, scared of being left by himself, hopeful for the conversation ahead, still somewhat giddy because of the camera hanging from his neck, there was so much going on in his mind… and the kids were all equally as lost as Sans was, which didn't help one bit. Usually, Integrity was good at keeping them all on track, but since his plan seemed to be working out he wasn't too concerned about what else they got up to while they waited to see it through), but, somehow, he had no doubt in his mind that nothing would happen to him. For no discernible reason, he trusted Killer.

Time would tell if that was a mistake or not.

Chapter Text

The first thing Color learned about Killer by spending some time with him was that he didn’t like to beat around the bush. If there was something he was curious about, he wanted to know all about it at once.

“What exactly are you? I can smell, like, seven different people whenever you’re around. And yet, you just sound like me. I guess a little bit more rusty on the speaking front, but still rather similar. And your magic feels so different from skeleton magic! It’s warmer. It crackles like fire and smells odd. Like a ton of different odors clashing. It’s not bad, just… weird”. That rant was the longest he’d ever heard Killer speak since he’d gotten there. Color wanted to take it as a sign that the other felt comfortable around him to some degree, at least enough so that he was willing to express himself. However, he wasn’t entirely sure about his assumption being correct. He didn’t know the guy enough to say for certain that he never got so chatty. “I can also tell that you’re not from here. You smell odd. So, where did you come from? And how did you get here? And why haven’t you gone back yet? I’ll probably think of other questions to ask as you answer. If you keep up your side of the bargain and make things interesting as you promised, at least. But that’s everything for now” he continued talking rapidly, only slowing down at the very end. Had he had lungs, he would have been panting by the time he was done.

Color, who had only just sat down and gotten comfortable with the feeling of wet moss under his ass, was overwhelmed by the barrage of questions.

In his mind, Justice joked that, for the first time since they’d been all joined in one body, they’d found someone who could out-yap Bravery. Giggles resonated from everyone, aside from the boy in question, who was busy pouting about it.

Truth be told, Gaster had been a very talkative guy as well. Especially if Color ever did something that the old man wasn’t too happy about. He never yelled, never really grew upset, but he didn’t hold back when scolding them. Sometimes it felt as if he derived joy from it. And Sans’ feelings on the matter were rather conflicted in part because of that. It was hard to accept even the most valid pieces of critique leveled at him when he could tell that they didn’t come from an honest place and instead were a result of a desire for something different, something new (they didn’t get much of that in the Void, which made his father figure’s desire for conflict a more understandable one, but it still didn’t justify him being an ass to get what he wanted).

Nothing was ever what it seemed with the old scientist. Part of Sans wanted to believe that he wasn’t a bad guy; he’d saved him from certain death and deletion after all, but… sometimes Gaster made it hard to hold onto that hope. The things he said could hit deeper than he claimed to realize. And his ignorance on the matter didn’t make the wounds he left behind hurt any less.

So far, Killer was nothing like him.

Sure, he also looked at Color as if he was an interesting subject worth dissecting (he’d even vocalized a desire to do so when they first met), but none of it felt as if it could easily be misconstrued as malicious. He was just curious and easily excitable. Kind of like a puppy.

After a couple of minutes, Color had managed to gather his thoughts enough to formulate a response: “It’s hard to say for sure what I am. I’m the Sans of my universe and the souls of the six fallen children that came before the Anomaly that devastated our world. And… wait- did you say you could smell it?!”. All the talking had filled up his head so much at first that he’d taken in very little of what had been said. Especially since he’d thought it more important to focus on the actual questions. But now that he was calmer, the rest of what had been said hit him at once, leaving him completely bewildered.

At first, the kids hadn’t caught that detail either, and the chaos that ensued in their shared mind now that it had been pointed out was deafening.

Integrity was quick to point out that Killed hadn’t used any visual descriptors for any of his claims, ergo it was possible that the only reason why he’d mentioned so many details that to them felt creepy (because it was so rare for anyone to ever acknowledge smell in conversation with others) was that he couldn’t see too well. Perseverance muttered something about how she’d been thinking the same and would have said it had he not stolen her thunder before she could. Justice only argued that Killer sounded like a serial killer and, when questioned on how they could possibly know that, mentioned that they were pretty sure there were plenty of those back in their days (they could never remember much, but Sans grew more and more concerned with every detail he learned about them nonetheless). Bravery insisted they ask Killer what he smelled like. And Kindness and Patience remained quiet, the conversation was likely too far out of their realm of expertise for them to add anything.

The souls had been so noisy that Color almost missed it when Killer responded. Thankfully, he managed to catch onto it in time to hear the tail end of it: “… my nose is basically my eyes since then”. It wasn’t enough for him to grasp much (although Integrity was already acting quite smug about having been in the right), but it at least gave him a hint of where to start asking questions. Before he could, however, Killer started laughing. “You really weren’t listening, were you? I can hear your flames crackling in distress”.

Color’s cheeks lit up in a rainbow of hues.

He had promised to make that conversation worthwhile for Killer, and he was failing spectacularly at it already… why he ever thought he had what it took to save that world was beyond him. Before, he’d been worrying about whether Toriel would be able to hold her own against the human for as long as he kept the fallen human’s little servant occupied, but now he was starting to think that he was the one in trouble. The old Queen would be fine. She was a Boss monster with years of experience dealing with annoying little kids, he was a mess of a monster with years of lack of social experience under his belt. He was the one with the obvious disadvantage.

Despite his worries, Killer didn’t seem to mind his inattention too much. “I just said that my code was messed with, and my sight has been heavily affected. I can see things in big blotches of color, but that’s pretty much it. It’s not too bad, though, ‘cause my sense of smell, taste, and hearing are great” once he stopped laughing, he simply repeated himself. There was no anger in his tone. No aggressiveness. Nothing negative at all. If anything, he still sounded rather curious and excited.

On his part, Color was horrified.

From the beginning, he knew that something had to have gone wrong for any version of him to turn violent. He never would have considered harming his brother and sister (any version of them). Hell, he had hardly been capable of standing up against Her while She wore the body of an innocent child, even after all the carnage She caused… he was quick to anger, but he wasn’t a violent guy. But hearing his theories confirmed so nonchalantly was heartbreaking.

Color didn’t know what ‘code’ was.

He had a few theories, mainly consisting of what little he could piece together from his vague memories of his time as a scientist, but none that he was certain about. Regardless, whatever it was, what sounded like minor changes to it affected Killer so deeply that he’d been left permanently disabled because of it.

Maybe the other wasn’t possessed like Color originally assumed, but was what he was going through any better? Was having a fundamental part of him altered without his consent something he could even come back from? Was it fixable? Would he have been interested in fixing that? Was it just something they had to learn to live with? Did it make him a different person altogether? Would trying to revert him back to being Sans kill Killer? Had the same thing happened to the human, or were they being controlled? Or were they the ones who changed Killer’s code in the first place? What if there were no anomaly in their world? What if all their issues were self-made? Did that change anything? Would he still want to help them if that turned out to be the case? There were so many questions buzzing in his head, and he didn’t have answers for any of them. He didn’t know what to do.

“Oh… that’s- that’s rough” was all he could manage to not-so-cleverly say.

Killer shrugged, unbothered by his underwhelming response. “It’s fine, I’m used to it by now”. Was everything that came out of his mouth while they were alone gonna be concerning? Because Color was starting to get the urge to swaddle him in a blanket and lock him up somewhere safe. “Now, if this topic is done, can you answer the rest of my questions?”. Killer’s empty eye sockets were once more on him. Even knowing that he could barely see anything out of them, his stare still felt intense and frightening; it dug deep. Too deep for comfort. How that was possible, he didn’t know. However, he did get the feeling that Killer hadn’t told him the entire truth of his situation, not that he had any obligation to do so. They barely knew each other. They’d exchanged only a couple of sentences back and forth before they’d gotten to Waterfall. And Color had yet to do anything to prove himself trustworthy. He hadn’t even kept up his part of the bargain yet.

Wanting to rectify that perceived mistake, Color let himself be dragged past all the concerning things Killer had mentioned, and answered as best as he could all the questions he remembered: “As you guessed, I’m from another world. Technically, I was in the Void there before I arrived here. The Void is a space outside of time and barely connected to the world everyone else lives in, where all those who have been forgotten end up. I don’t know how I got here exactly, and that’s the reason why I haven’t gone back… that and I don’t know if I have a place to return to”. It was the first time he’d admitted that last part aloud to himself. Tears built up in his socket just thinking of it. It was so unfair, he’d lost everything twice, and he never even got to say goodbye to any of his loved ones. The kiddos hadn’t either. They never got their stuff back. They never got to see Toriel one last time. They were just stuck with Sans against their own volition and had to deal with his misfortune until the day they all eventually passed away once more. It sucked. “I promised to make this chat worth it… but I’m realizing there’s not much I have to offer”. To calm his anxiety a bit, he started fiddling with the strap of the camera Toriel had gifted him.

It was hard to live in the moment when there was nothing Sans had to live for.

The only purpose he had was to help those around him, and he was starting to realize that he wasn’t good at doing that. No matter what the kiddos tried to claim.

“What are you talking about? Firefly, are you a dumbass?” Killer’s blunt tone startled him out of the self-deprecating spiral he’d been slipping into. “You’re fascinating! I’ve never heard of anything like you before! This world is so… boring. Everything is always the same. Their Majesty tries to keep things fun, but I can tell they’re getting just as bored with killing as I am. And everything else we’ve done a thousand times already, too. You’re a breath of fresh air”. He remained still as he spoke, eyes sockets fixed on Color’s, tone entirely flat. And yet, even if his behavior didn’t give any indication of that being the case, he could tell that Killer was having a blast and that he meant every single word he said. He must have been bored for a very long time to genuinely find Color so entertaining… “And your presence here opens up a whole bunch of new possibilities! I mean, now we know for sure that dimensional travel is possible for one thing. So we don’t have to be stuck here forever. I just have to…” his voice tapered off. All the excitement he was displaying a moment prior vanished and left its place to a true blank slate.

“Just have to?” Color questioned, confused by the sudden mood shift.

Killer’s body language was so subdued that it was easy to miss. Especially for someone like Color who’d spent such a long time with barely anyone around. His understanding of those around him was rusty at best. So it took him a while to notice that Killer’s shoulder where ever-so-slightly hunched in; he was tenser than he’d been even during their fight. His demeanor shifted to what it had been at the very start, when Color had spied on him and the royal brat from the small slits in between the wooden planks that made up the sentry station near the exit of the Ruins.

“I’d need to talk to their majesty about it. They’re… not always the most receptive…” a tinge of fear colored his words now.

It was yet another reminder that, while the human was a child, there were some things they did that were likely unforgivable. Whether they were the ones who’d changed Killer’s code or not, they were still reaping the benefits of it, and they were abusing the position of power that change had granted them. Navigating that whole mess would not be easy. But, as his kiddos reminded him, neither he nor Killer was alone dealing with it.

“Would you like some help with it then?” he offered. He had a feeling that Killer already had far too many choices taken away from him. He didn’t want to add one more to the pile. “Sometimes it’s easier not to face your demons all alone”.

Surprise took over Killer’s previously blank expression. “… why? Why do you want to help? I hurt you. I’ve done some stuff that would send you and those kiddos of yours running. You don’t wanna get involved-”.

“Right now, we’re not talking about what I want. We’re talking about what you need” he chided as gently as he could. He didn’t want to be too harsh with a guy who was already spiraling; he knew how far back that could set someone from personal experience, but he also wouldn’t let him talk himself into refusing his outstretched hand for stupid and irrelevant reasons. Percy pointed out that he was being a tad bit hypocritical, considering the fact that he was the king of shooting down any aid, no matter how desperately he needed it, but her valid points fell on deaf ears. They weren’t talking about him right now. “So, do you need some help, yes or no?”.

Still a bit hesitant, Killer nodded.

And that was all the convincing Color needed.

“Let’s go talk to them, then” he offered Killer his hand. The other took it.

“Should we take a picture first? In case things go horribly wrong”. At his noise of confusion, Killer pointed at the camera hanging from his neck still. “I’m guessing that’s the reason why you’re carrying that thing around”.

“Oh! Good call!”.

He squeezed himself close to Killer, once again ignoring how dangerous that was. If the other had wanted to get rid of him, he would have done so already. It wasn’t as if it was that hard. His body was falling apart even without any outside help. He raised his camera with one arm and snapped a picture.

Once it developed, it looked kind of adorable. Killer was standing there just as awkwardly as him. They both looked like they didn’t belong in their own bodies. They both looked lost. They both looked tired and scared. But there was some hope there, gleaming in Color’s eye and shining in Killer’s tiny smile. The bunny ears were absent from this picture, but the kids still appeared as a soft blanket enveloping them both. They were all gonna face whatever lay ahead together.

Chapter Text

The Ruins weren’t as silent as Color had expected them to be when they reached them. The corridor they landed in after Killer pulled them both through another shortcut was empty, but the dust he dreaded finding there was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, they were greeted by the quiet sound of chatter from a room further into the house.

Killer summoned a glowing red knife, twirled it around a couple of times, seemingly for no other reason than that it amused him to do so, and then settled on keeping a rather loose and relaxed grip on the handle of it. He appeared relaxed, his shoulders were down, his head was held high, and the familiar thrum of awaiting battle magic was completely absent from around him. And yet, Color could tell that the fear he’d seen in him earlier, when the topic of confronting the human came up, hadn’t just up and vanished. He could tell that his new friend was ready for a fight, whether that ended up being against him or against the one he thought to be in charge.

And, while he hoped that no further violence would be necessary (enough dust had been spilled, enough grief had polluted the air, more violence would lead to nothing but another cycle for them to get trapped in), he too prepared himself for the worst case scenario. He cleared his mind and made sure that all the souls within him were paying attention and ready to intervene if needed.

Involving the two youngest ones, Patience and Kindness, was never ideal for Sans. He wished he could have let them have a normal childhood, one where they wouldn’t have had to fear for their life so often, one where they could have expressed themselves, used their shared body at will, and ran around to play games with other kids their age, but that wasn’t the opportunity they’d been dealt. Gaster freed them from the endless Void before it took away all of their spark, but he doubted the old man had any idea of where he was sending them, what mission he inadvertently assigned them. Had he known, perhaps nothing would have changed. But they couldn’t know that for certain.

Once he’d made sure that everyone was on board and ready, he hurried to follow after Killer, who had already begun walking away, following the faint whispers they could hear echoing down the corridor.

They found the human in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table, and kicking their feet underneath their chair excitedly. They weren’t alone there.

Toriel was standing in front of one of her kitchen counters, whipping up some sweet cream to pour over the chocolate mousse she had already arranged in the four fancy wine glasses she had set to the side. She was singing in a language forgotten by most, one Color was all too familiar with as it was the one Gaster insisted on using to communicate (it wasn’t as if the old man didn’t know any others either, he just liked being eccentric). That was probably what he’d originally confused with talking. He was so used to hearing his father figure drone on for hours on end in that language that all melodic qualities of it were lost on him.

The human was the first to notice their arrival. They sprang up with the speed of a wind-up toy and threw themselves at Killer, hugging him tightly. “Killer! Mom is making us dessert! I don’t think we’ve ever gotten dessert before. And it’s chocolate too!”.

Killer was, understandably, confused. He didn’t reciprocate the hug. He just stood there, stock still, eye sockets wide, and teeth slightly ajar. His hands were hovering somewhere in front of him, too, and his hold on the knife he’d summoned was now a tad bit tighter. His head slowly turned to Color, and he could say for certain that he’d never before seen someone looking so lost.

Color wanted to intervene, but, not knowing how, he opted to step toward Toriel instead.

An excited human could mean a world of trouble, but they didn’t seem to be dangerous at the moment. They were just acting their age for once, showing genuine happiness about something other than murder and the suffering of others. Maybe that was the real them, underneath whatever kind of corruption their world had undergone. Or maybe it was just another aspect of their personality. Maybe they could be a genocidal child and be happy to spend some time with their mother, and the two things didn’t need to be as contradictory as they felt. He didn’t know them well enough to be able to discern what the real them was, if there was such a thing, if there was hope. All he could do was try to have some faith and figure out what had happened while they were gone.

Killer let out a pitiful whine when he stepped away, which almost froze him in his tracks. He reminded himself that the other was okay, though. He’d be keeping an eye on him throughout. Nothing would happen to him, not if he had any say in the matter.

He went to lean against the kitchen cabinets, still facing that weird, awkward hug that was unfolding before him, and whispered (hopefully lowly enough that the human wouldn’t hear it): “Tori, what’s going on?”.

Toriel stopped singing. She threw a glance behind herself and was visibly relieved to find the human sufficiently distracted. “I may have underestimated the danger we were in a little bit” she admitted sheepishly. Now, ‘a little bit’ wouldn’t have been how Color would have liked to put it. She revealed their hiding spot to two beings who were dead set on eradicating every single monster in the Underground after all. She could have very well died because of it. He had been prepared to find her dust all over the corridor Killer dragged him away from when they returned. It had been the peak of idiocy. Still, he was willing to be the bigger person and let that wording slide that one time. “When you left, my child went to attack me, and I reflexively threw some candy I had in my pockets at them. Then I remembered you and the kids telling me that violence hadn’t solved anything in the past, and I noticed that they were startled enough that maybe I could entice them with one of their favorite desserts and buy myself some time to decide what to do. And now we’re here”. She concluded her explanation, gesturing at what she’d cooked. Sadness took over her expression as soon as the embarrassment of that ridiculous encounter faded. “What happened to them? They used to be such a sweet child…”.

Even after so many years, after so much violence, and after the human’s latest attempt at Toriel’s life, the love she had for them hadn’t diminished. Fear was there, too, now. It sat alongside it, coloring it in a different shade, perhaps, but not weakening it.

It was enviable to be able to hold on to attachments with such a passion.

Her question led to some wondering on his part, too.

Once upon a time, did the Entity that destroyed his world also have a family? Someone who loved Her? How about the kid She inhabited before Color’s disappearance? Was there anyone out there who missed either of them as ardently as Toriel did with the child she had reunited with only once it was too late? Could they have been saved? Could he have changed the fate of his loved ones by taking a different approach to dealing with that whole mess? Was there any point in asking himself all that now that his universe was dead and gone?

Hell, he didn’t yet know if it even made a difference that this human was showing some humanity!

Maybe, despite that, they were all still equally as doomed.

“I can’t say for certain…” he muttered, truthfully and bitterly. He was supposed to be the one with all the answers, and yet there was so very little that he actually knew. The years he’d spent in the Void with Gaster and the many before that he’d stood in the Judgment Hall, waiting for his moment to intervene like the passive observer he’d been trained into becoming had amounted to almost nothing. The title of ‘failed experiment’ that his father figure assigned to him seemed more fitting with each day that went by. The souls tried to claim otherwise; Kindness reminded him that they were still young, they could still learn, Integrity reaffirmed that at least he was doing his best to remain true to his morals, Perseverance told him to stop crying about it and start figuring shit out, and Bravery happily announced that, ignorant or not, they’d still saved a ton of monsters that day! He wished he could take some kind of solace in their words, but, at the moment, they rang hollow. Well, Percy had a point, but she was being an ass about it, so he kinda ignored her. “I’m happy you’re alive, at least” he added with a small smile once he noticed that his prolonged silence had soured her mood even further.

Toriel reacted positively to his last statement. She turned to him and gave him a small, thankful smile, then went back to decorating the four glasses. She positioned the whipped cream in the center and then grabbed some mixed berries from her fridge and put them down all around the little white mound.

Those chocolate mousses looked cute, almost professional. He’d never known that the old Queen was such a great cook, despite having spoken to her quite regularly once upon a time. Then again, she never said much about herself. She let him vent a lot, but when it was her turn, she preferred to just exchange puns. Maybe this version of the old lady was different. It was hard to tell.

Once he could tell that she was done, he grabbed two of the wine glasses and set them down in front of two of the chairs. Toriel transported the other half of the desserts.

Noticing their movements, the human let go of Killer, leaving him no less confused than he’d been that entire time, and bounced on over. They didn’t wait for Toriel to get them a spoon to eat either, instead they just dug in face first like the members of the dog guard loved doing.

The sound of the human’s mouth meeting the pudding made Killer recoil. Now likely nauseous, he grabbed the chair that had been next to them and carried it over to Color’s side, then he grabbed his mousse with blue magic, put on a clean pair of gloves, and took one of the spoons Toriel was holding, still with magic. His issues with dirt had already been obvious before, but he hadn’t thought them to be quite so severe.

Color made a mental note to be very careful with how he handled his new friend going forward.

Even more peculiar, however, was the way Killer ate all the berries, then sniffed the rest of the contents of his glass, and left them there, untouched.

He had so many questions, but they could wait for a more opportune and private moment. For the time being, he just offered Killer his portion of fruit. The other took it gladly.

“So…” Toriel started, the first to break the ice and wave away the uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled over them all. “May I ask why you attacked me earlier, my child?”.

The kid finished off their mousse in record time and only gave themselves the time it took for them to lick their face clean to think about what to answer. Then they shrugged. “I’m bored” they nonchalantly confessed. “And it doesn’t matter anyway, you’ll forget about it all. Everyone does”.

“Not everyone” Color interjected. “I remember. So does Papyrus. And I’m sure that annoying flower that always used to challenge me back when I was still the Royal Judge of my world does too. He seemed odd enough for that. And, even if we didn’t, your actions wouldn’t be free of consequences. Because of someone behaving just like you, my world doesn’t exist anymore. I’m the only remnant of it. This is a dangerous path to go down”. He knew he was being harsh, even if he had tried his best to avoid using a too stern tone. He didn’t want to scare them with apocalyptic views of the future. They were a child (their various odd behaviors never failed to remind him of that. A kid capable of untold evil could still be naive and easily frightened), and he’d never met one of those who took well to being yelled at when scolded. He knew he had to be careful if he wanted to have any chance of getting through to them. But he also couldn’t help but remember that Papyrus's infinite kindness and understanding had never gotten him anywhere, not in his world and not in that one. They needed to face the truth, and sometimes that wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.

“Papyrus remembers…?” Killer muttered, shock evident in his tone. So far, he’d never given any indication of caring about what happened to his younger brother… and maybe now Color knew why that was.

While he could never have imagined hurting or letting anyone hurt either of his siblings, even if he had been certain that there would be no lasting damage, he could understand how that could have made it easier for Killer. However, he was glad to hear that, while his code had been altered as he’d mentioned, whoever or whatever had done that hadn’t managed to entirely erase his attachments.

They changed it, but they’d failed to destroy who he once was.

“Yeah” he admitted. “He does. I don’t really understand why, I don’t get how any of this works, but I know he’s one determined and cool guy”.

Killer snorted. “Yeah, he is. And that’s probably why”.

Before he could ask for a clarification, the human spoke up again, cutting the emotional moment short. “Why should I care, though? This world can disappear. It’s not like it’s got much else to offer, anyway. It’s boring. I’m bored to death. And so is Killer. Besides, it’s not like anyone will be left to be sad if we’re all gone, right?”.

That was a sentiment he could relate to more than he would have liked to admit. And hearing something like that coming from the mouth of a child finally made him realize how depressing that way of thinking was. Some of the souls loudly cheered when he connected the dots, for them, it had been a long time coming.

There had been many times in his years in the Void, and, if he wanted to be honest with himself, even before and after his time there, that Sans had contemplated the futility of his existence. What was the point of fighting an enemy that couldn’t lose? Why wasn’t he just letting himself rot away when there was nothing for him to do and nothing to look forward to? How could he let six children remain trapped in that monotonous existence of his when death would have been a far kinder outcome for them? He was tired. He had no energy left to try. He had exhausted all of his fighting spirit. He was an empty husk of his former self. Everyone he loved had forgotten him. There was no point to it all. Those were all thoughts that bounced around in his skull constantly. He never had a single moment of respite from them. The best he could aim for was to overpower them with a never-ending list of tasks for him to accomplish, although keeping himself busy constantly also didn’t help with the constant marrow-deep fatigue he felt.

Did that mean that he was just as corrupt as the child or that he had been looking at that situation all wrong?

“Dimensional travel is possible, though” Killer blurted out. He immediately tensed up after speaking his mind, as if he was expecting that not to be well received.

Indeed, the human narrowed their eyes at him. “And? Every other world is gonna get boring too. We’d just be delaying the inevitable. I say we play this game for as long as we get to, and then, when the time comes, we watch it all burn down around us! At least that will be something new!” they were grinning wildly as they proposed their idea. Gone was all the irritation they’d started with, it had been entirely replaced by a manic sort of glee.

Killer turned toward him, silently pleading for help.

He had promised that he wouldn’t have let him face his demons alone. Saying something that contradicted the human had been hard enough for his friend; his job was over. And Sans truly wanted to keep his promise. He wanted to come in with a revolutionary speech that would have changed the human’s whole outlook on life. He wanted to be the hero he’d been desperately trying to become ever since he’d arrived in that universe. But he didn’t know how.

Not by himself.

Fortunately, as the souls reminded him, he wasn’t alone. Never. Not anymore.

“You’re the boring one. Of course, you’re not having fun when you refuse to play any game you didn’t think of first!” Bravery took over first, puffing up his cheeks and crossing his arms. “It’s not fair for you to decide that it’s over for everyone else, too” Justice added, far sterner than Color had previously been. “Do you truly not care about the fact that your behavior is harming all those around you? Including your mom? And everyone else who once loved you?” Integrity questioned after trying to pull off his best disappointed dad voice. “What if we create a fun game for you?” Kindness offered, she had always been one for compromises. “For starters, we can try to keep these two idiots from pining so hard…” Perseverance added with a small smirk, clearly trying to lessen the tension in the room with some good old teasing. She certainly succeeded in making both Color and Killer blush.

His friend’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of blue, and noticing that only made the heat in his skull rise further, to Percy’s annoyance.

From the corner of his eye socket, he noticed Toriel smiling fondly at him. At them.

The human scoffed at Color’s words. “I make the rules, I’m the most determined, that’s why I get to decide-”.

They were interrupted by Killer. “Actually… looking at our STATs right now… I’m more determined than you” he sounded just as confused saying that as the human looked hearing it. “You let them get to you” that time, his tone was accusatory. “You’re not as strong as you say you are” he concluded scathingly, before teleporting away without another word.

“Fuck” Color and the human exclaimed in unison.

Chapter Text

The human marched silently by his side as they headed for the camera hidden in the bushes right outside the Ruins. They didn’t say a single word after the shock of Killer’s disappearance faded and Color launched himself into action. He doubted they would have even followed him along had Toriel not pleaded with them to do so, insisting that they couldn’t leave a friend just like that.

Were they and Killer friends?

Did people who were that lonely have friends?

Color crouched down in front of the bush and moved around the leaves until he found what he’d been looking for. “Alphys… I know I’m asking a lot again, but…”. How could he have explained their situation? The human by his side, trailing him like a shadow? What kind of help did he need? He didn’t know what was gonna happen. He didn’t know what Killer would do. He didn’t know anything…

Surprisingly, the human stepped in. They crouched down by his side, grimacing when their knees his the wet ground. They did complain about the cold that one time… mindlessly, Color shrugged off his hoodie and offered it to them to put under their legs. They gave him a curious look, but took it regardless, wrapping it around their shoulders instead. What an odd child…

“Dr. Alphys, you don’t know me, but I’m… I need your help. My… my friend is lost. And he may do something stupid. We need to find him. He’s… he’s a skeleton. He looks kinda like this guy-” they jabbed a thumb in Color’s direction as an explanation “Except less colorful. We need to find him quickly… is there any way for you to help…?”. Every word they said came out uncertain. Vulnerability didn’t suit them; it deprived them of that mask of nihilism they needed to survive. Maybe some would have considered that a good thing, even progress, but he wasn’t so sure of it. Pushing too soon could harm them in ways he didn’t know how to fix.

Was there anything in that situation that he knew how to fix? Hadn’t it been obvious from the very start that he bit off more than he could chew? He knew nothing about code, nothing about that new world or its inhabitants, nothing about anything.

But, if he gave up then, just because doing the right thing was hard and fixing an unimaginable amount of issues seemed downright impossible, then wouldn’t he prove the human’s reasoning that nothing mattered after all? That there was no point in trying anything new when that too would eventually grow to feel pointless? That there was no escape from the cycle that entities beyond their comprehension had trapped them in? That maybe sitting idly by and watching the world go up in flames was all that there was left for them to do?

Sans had always struggled to do things for himself. He didn’t consider himself a selfless individual; he just couldn’t find any motivation to keep going when the only one it would benefit was him. He wasn’t worth fighting for. Which was why Papyrus and Undyne had both been a blessing; they were brilliant, brave, wonderful kids, and they were his everything. Looking after them, he had almost forgotten the crushing feeling of worthlessness that leered at him from the shadows that lurked outside the circle of light his two stars cast on him. For a while. And then… then the anomaly came, and nothing had been enough. Then the souls came, and they were six troubled kids, all dead far too young for the benefit of people who should have been made of hope and love but showed them neither. They kept him going for years, they still did. But there were more people he could act for now. The human from that new world, Killer, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus… all of them were great reasons for him to keep moving.

Instinctively, that time too, he figured he could just push all his worries down a little bit further and keep going because there were people who needed him. Because he wanted to prove to the kid something he himself didn’t believe in. Because… because everyone, aside from him, brought something wonderful to the world, and he needed to preserve that.

“What are you talking about? Firefly, are you a dumbass?”. There was an earnest spark in Killer’s empty sockets. It wasn’t visible, but it was felt. His smile was beautiful. It was contained, modest, and yet it could have lit up a whole room. It certainly lit up Sans’ world… “You’re fascinating! I’ve never heard of anything like you before! You’re a breath of fresh air”.

Color blinked away a few tears.

Oh…

He was someone else’s beacon, too. He never considered that before. He didn’t want to stop being that.

And wasn’t that weird? There was something there that he wanted. Someone he hadn’t spent enough time with yet. He still didn’t know how to fix anything, but… the human wasn’t the only one he wanted to try for, were they? They were one of the reasons, but… doing something for himself made him feel something he’d never felt before. It was an emotion that lay somewhere between relief and excitement. It forced him to acknowledge that, even through all the repression, the pain, the misery, through everything his life had thrown at him up until then, he was still alive. He wasn’t only a vessel for the souls to stick around a little bit longer and maybe get to enjoy some fragments of their stolen youth or a hero there to save the day, he… he could be a person.

The souls all cheered at his revelation, which was embarrassing, but it made him feel warm all the same.

His soul pushed on; he needed to persevere.

An intercom crackled to life from somewhere unseen. “Uh-uh, I think he’s- he’s in Snowdin? Papyrus’ house… I- I- should I send Undyne? I- I don’t-” Alphys sounded scared, uncertain. She sounded just like he always did, frozen in place by the sheer number of choices forced upon her.

And yet she didn’t run and cower, did she?

“Of course” Bravery scoffed in his mind. “That’s what courage is, dummy. We’re all scared. We’re all lost. But someone has to do something, otherwise the whole world would be still and that would be boring as Hell”. His kids were so wise sometimes; he was very proud of them.

Without hesitation, he pushed himself up and offered the human a hand up as well. They took it, silent as a shadow once more. He really needed to get that kid some professional help as soon as possible. Though… finding one that would take them on as a client when they’d killed all of monster kind several times over might not have been the easiest goal to achieve. But he would figure something out. He always did.

“No, don’t. Tell her to stay on standby, but not to go in. We need to deescalate the situation and in diplomatic conversations she’s always a…” he paused for just a moment as he caught up with what he had been about to say. It had been so long… He grinned and finished his sentence just as he had intended: “A fish out of water”.

The human and Perseverance groaned in unison at the bad pun.

In another life, he was certain that they could have been best friends.

For a few seconds, there was silence on the other side of the intercom, then a soft giggle came through. “T-that was really bad” Alphys said, even though she was still chuckling under her breath. Not everyone could appreciate his great puns, and that was okay; it meant that there were more for him and Toriel, at least if she shared the same sense of humor that his version of her did.

“We’ll be fine” he promised. To Alphys, to the human, to the universe, and, for once, also to himself.

Papyrus’s house was silent from the outside. The Gyftmas lights that decorated the outside of it at all times of the year were off. Curtains had been drawn to cover every window. And the door, which usually remained unlocked just in case anyone needed to barge in unannounced for a friendly hangout or a favor, was bolted shut. The other monsters were still in hiding, so there wasn’t a single sound there to offer them a reprieve from the bleak atmosphere.

The human was nervously fidgeting with a golden heart locket that hung from their neck. They were nervous. It wasn’t the same kind of overwhelming fear Killer had displayed before at the idea of bringing something up to them that they hadn’t yet considered. It wasn’t a fear of punishment. They just looked like a little kid who was getting ready to tell their parents that they failed a test in school. As if what worried them most was the possibility that their friend- subordinate- whatever their relationship was, would be disappointed in them.

Their bond was twisted, unhealthy, possibly codependent, but there was something genuine there, too. Maybe, if they both wanted to, they could try to salvage it. Color hoped that it was possible, because he wasn’t sure whether either of them could handle having to cut off one more piece of themselves.

Without looking at them, he squeezed the human’s shoulder, then he summoned a bone and used that to break the lock of the door.

He didn’t know what he had been expecting to find inside. Maybe dust. One or two piles. Maybe the two brothers tearfully hugging as they reunited. Maybe nothing at all.

Instead, what awaited him was a faint orange glow coming from the kitchen and more silence. The stench of death wasn’t permeating the air, and neither was the lingering crackling of battle magic. Everything was in order. Just as he remembered it.

Color shook his head and then ventured further in, toward the light.

The first thing he saw when he entered the kitchen was a big red button with ‘ERASE’ written on it. His soul tried to leap out of his ribcage when he noticed the still-gloved hand hovering just above it. Killer’s focus wasn’t on it, however. His face was angled toward his brother, who was just standing there, silently pleading. It was a standoff of sorts. One he didn’t understand, and he may have been too late to keep from escalating into a full-blown tragedy. It was the kind of view that, on any other day, would have made him falter and give up.

It had always been so easy for him to surrender.

But not that time.

“Killer, what the Hell do you think you’re doing?!” he found himself screaming. It was rare for him to raise his voice; he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done it. While he had always been quick to anger, his ire was a silent thing. Much like Bravery, he had always been a punch first, talk later kind of guy. He managed to rein it in somewhat in the years, but one could never fully change their nature.

However, his outburst was so unexpected that it served its purpose perfectly.

The button hovering in the air between the two brothers faded out of existence, blinking in and out of view a couple of times before disappearing for good, and Killer turned to face him. “Firefly…? You really shouldn’t have come here. I was about to fix everything. To free everyone” he sighed, turning away from him once more. “Please, leave”.

“I Don’t Want To Be Free Of You, Brother-” Papyrus tried, finally freed from his still cage now that the immediate threat of the button was gone.

Unfortunately, his love backfired. Killer was in no place to accept it. He snarled: “I’m not your brother anymore”. He sounded like a wounded animal, fighting back in a desperate last-ditch attempt at survival. Color wanted to approach him, but he knew that people in that state were the most volatile. He wasn’t concerned for his own safety; had Killer wanted him dead, he’d had ample opportunities to make sure that he met a bloody end, but he couldn’t predict what he would do to himself, how far he was willing to go to put an end to that endless misery. Based on Papyrus’s words and the label of the button, he could make a guess, and he didn’t like the conclusion he’d come to.

He was still racking his mind for what to do, eagerly taking in all of the souls’ suggestions, when the human stepped forward. “Then why are you here?” they asked simply. “Why visit him? You aren’t planning to have some fun by killing him-” the mere idea got a flinch out of Killer “So what gives?”. After a few beats went by with no response, their brows furrowed, and they stepped forward. They grabbed Killer by the front of his turtleneck and pulled him close to their face with an angry growl. “You think that just ‘cause you have a bit more determination, you’re now in charge?! Answer me!”.

“Human-” Color said, right as Papyrus tried to reach out for them and pull them back securely behind him. Of course, while the taller skeleton could remember how dangerous they were, nothing could stop him from giving them an endless amount of chances. They were just a kid, and they could do better; that was his philosophy. Maybe then, Color was the weird one, because his first instinct at seeing Killer getting yelled at (even if the reasons for it were arguably justifiable) was to cradle him against his side and hide him from everyone who had ever or could have ever harmed him. Maybe he was a bit of a jealous dragon…

The human rebuked both of their attempts. They ignored Color and shrugged off Papyrus’s hold.

Despite their worries, Killer actually responded well to that direct order. “I- I wanted to say goodbye… Your Majesty”.

The human huffed and let go of him. “Only to him?”. It sounded as if they were pouting, but Color couldn’t see their face in the position they were in, so he couldn’t be certain. “You were gonna delete us both, and you were only gonna say goodbye to him?”.

“You don’t like goodbyes” Killer pointed out.

“Yeah, duh. They’re stupid” the human shot back childishly. Their tone ripped a nervous chuckle out of Color. Even in a situation like that, they couldn’t help it. Angry, cynical, sadistic, destructive… they could be all of that, but it didn’t change their nature. It didn’t change that, once upon a time, before they died, before their code was altered, before whatever led them to walk up a mountain they knew they wouldn’t return from, they had been a kid. There was something comical about being reminded of it once more when lives were on the line. It was becoming a common occurrence. “… we don’t need a goodbye when we’re not going anywhere, right?” they mumbled after a few moments of silence. “There are other universes or whatever. Even if we ruined this one for good, it’s not the end. You said that. You can’t take it back just because you got the upper hand in our game, it’s not fair”.

Papyrus was scratching the top of his head, clearly confused by it all. His sockets met Color’s, and an unspoken question was asked. Color gestured that he would explain later.

It wasn’t the time. Killer and the human needed their closure.

Much like Color had his revelation, they needed to have theirs.

“You’re always unfair…” Killer muttered. “But…”. And his face turned once more to face Color. His expression softened marginally, his shoulders slumped, and he let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t like breaking the rules of the game. And I did say that. Firefly, what do you think? What do I do? I could fix things. I could do what’s right. Or I could be selfish. I could keep playing. What would you do?”.

The truth was still that Color would have sacrificed himself. No amount of introspection he could have in one single day could change his mind completely. Things were never quite so simple in life. Healing was never so quick. And hurdles were often behind every corner.

But that wasn’t quite the correct answer.

“This isn’t about what I want… but I’d like it if you stayed. Even if you can’t do it for yourself. Even if you have to justify it with whatever rules the human set in place for you. Even if you think it would be selfish and wrong. I’d like it. I want to get to know you. I want to find a way to give you what you need while you’re still here. I want to give you all the help you’ll accept. So… stay? For me, for the game, for whatever reason, feels best. Stay”.

The human grumbled something about how it was typical of Killer to immediately seek out a new owner now that they were no longer in control. It didn’t sit right with him, but hopefully, they would have time to unpack that later down the line.

For the time being, all he cared about was that Killer teleported right in front of him and crumpled in his arms. It was a miracle that he’d even had the reflexes to keep them both standing, entangled as they were in one another.

“Okay…” Killer whispered. “I’ll do that”.

Chapter Text

Nobody was surprised when Killer fainted.

A breakdown of the magnitude of the one he had was sure to leave anybody exhausted. Color knew that well. After all, there was a reason why he struggled constantly with a bone-deep fatigue that made it hard for him to even think on most days. Stress and sudden bursts of heightened emotions didn’t only take a toll on the mind, they were just as much of a physical issue as all the injuries he would forever be dealing with.

Thankfully, they had been in his and Papyrus’s house when Killer collapsed, so finding a comfortable place for him to lie down hadn’t been hard.

Originally, Color had been planning to carry him to his room, but Papyrus insisted that it was too much of a mess (his bed was lacking a frame, he didn’t have a pillow, and his sheets were all balled up in a sweaty mess. On top of that, trash was littered everywhere on the floor, and a small tornado had somehow formed in one corner. Cleaning was impossible and pointless due to all the RESETs. Sans vaguely remembered his room looking much the same back in his universe, but he remained quiet about that fact out of embarrassment), so they brought Killer to Papyrus's room instead. And, if the content sigh their tired friend let out as soon as his bones hit the soft mattress was anything to go by, he was very happy with their choice.

Once Killer was set, Color and Papyrus joined the human back again in the kitchen, only to be immediately interrupted by Undyne busting in, dressed up in her full set of armor, and battle spear in hand. She seemed baffled to find the three of them just standing there, alive and well, enough so that the monologue she’d launched herself in at first (something about justice and freedom mixed in with several different intimidation tactics, Color wasn’t too sure about the specifics, as that day had been far too overwhelming for him to be able to take any more in) came to an abrupt halt once they came into view. Once she realized that the danger had already been dealt with, she awkwardly coughed, took off her helmet, and joined their small circle silently.

It was clear that she had no clue who either he or the human were, because she kept throwing them suspicious glances while shifting closer and closer to Papyrus to mutely offer him her protection, and he couldn’t help but find it sort of amusing. Mainly because, without all of those time-altering powers they had before, the human genuinely was nothing but a child. One that had committed quite a few atrocities, but a relatively harmless one nonetheless. As for him, well, he was crumbling where he stood. His bones were flaky, there were fractures all over them, and half the magic he possessed had to constantly be used to heal him. They, currently, were the opposite of a threat.

Alphys arrived a few minutes after, huffing and panting, clearly having ran the whole way there. Her cheeks were flushed and her scales were covered in sweat, so Papyrus rushed to get her seated and Color grabbed her a glass of water so she could hopefully recuperate a bit.

Color was starting to get a sense of déjà vu from the whole situation, although the silent presence of the human watching them all from a shadowy corner did keep him anchored to the moment. It probably should have been unsettling. Hell, he was willing to bet that ‘intimidating’ was the vibe the kid was going for! But after everything he’d witnessed that day, he couldn’t find it in himself to summon any fear. They were capable of evil (even seeing Papyrus and Undyne standing there, alive and well, didn’t ease his soul of the guilt he was feeling for not being able to save them the first time around. And he knew he wasn’t the only one to blame there. He knew that working to get past that would take time), sure, but he now knew that throwing candies at them was a viable strategy to handle their volatile temper, and there was no going back for their reputation.

“I- I wanted to come and- and stop Undyne but-” Alphys’s eyes shifted around nervously, refusing to land anywhere near Undyne. Her nervous stuttering worsened any time she even got close to looking the other woman’s way. Color felt bad for her. He knew how difficult public speaking could be; he’d struggled a lot with it fresh out of the Void and still did. More than once the souls had to take over and speak for him already precisely because of that reason. So, he went to sit down next to her on the sofa and offered her an encouraging smile. She seemed to appreciate the gesture and even reciprocated with her own wobbly one. “I- I know the plan was to have just you and the- the human talk things through, but I- I’m afraid I was too slow. Sorry”.

Undyne let out an awkward laugh at that. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing here, Al” she did her best to soften her voice in the way she only ever did around the lizard. Sans remembered that kind of attitude shift even from his own world. His sister had always been more subdued than this version of her, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t be brash at times, and maybe a bit careless with other people’s emotions. But she had a good heart. And she always did her best to patch things up when she noticed she’d messed up. And, with Alphys, she’d always been especially sweet about it, he always had an inkling of a suspicion that she most definitely liked her because of that. They were both so obvious about their crushes that it was at times painful to see how oblivious they could be about each other’s feelings. He never interfered, of course, and he even kept his brother from trying anything. They needed to figure things out at their own pace. But man… sometimes he truly wished he could have just opened their eyes to the obvious truth. “I am a bit of a hotheaded dumbass sometimes. And they’d already solved everything by the time I lost my patience anyway” she confessed after a long pause in the conversation. One that she’d probably used to think her actions over one more time and decide how she felt about them in retrospect.

For as much as Color sometimes got frustrated with Undyne’s (both versions of her) lack of forethought, he did appreciate her ability for introspection.

Sitting there and witnessing all of that only made him miss his world and his family more. The scene felt cozy and familiar. Despite that, he knew that it was all from a time far back in the past that he could never reclaim. Not only because his world was likely to be gone, but also because he’d been banished from it long before that. He should have been over his grief by then, he’d had years to mourn, and yet…

Was there an expiration date on pain? How long did he still have to wait?

“Well, I, For One, Am Happy That You Both Are Here” Papyrus announced, striking one of his dramatic poses that somehow got his scarf billowing behind him even though they were indoors. He was truly the coolest. Though his expression turned more somber once he noticed that he had everyone’s attention and that they were a bit less lost in their own anxieties now. He glanced back at the human, then up at the door to his bedroom, and back at the three of them. “I Think We Need To Come Up With A Plan To Deal With… Everything. I’m- I’ll Admit That Even I, The Great Papyrus, Am A Bit Out Of My Depth Here. And I Have Yet To Find A Book On How To Help Your Brother Not Want To… Erase Himself From Existence Or Kill Everyone Else Out Of Boredom. Nor How To Help A Human Drop Their Murderous Tendencies. It’s Troubling” he admitted to all of his insecurities with an honesty and readiness that was rather refreshing, despite the dark turn his words had taken.

His plead for help also functioned as a succinct but effective explanation to catch everyone up to speed with their situation.

Alphys seemed rather uncomfortable at the mention of Killer’s suicidal tendencies, not that he could blame her, it was a sensitive topic. He also didn’t miss the way Undyne grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard when the topic came up, as if she knew exactly where thoughts would wander, and quickly tried to prevent that journey from happening. He refused to look any further into it, however. It wasn’t his business and the last thing he wanted was to pry somewhere he wasn’t wanted and make an already bad situation worse.

Instead, he looked away from the group, back at the human who was tapping a foot on the ground nervously, their expression twisted in a grimace. They must not have appreciated people talking about them as if they weren’t there. As if they’d forgotten them. Discarded them until listening to their opinion was convenient once more.

While he knew for a fact that hadn’t been Papyrus’s intention (it was clear that version of his brother was just doing his best to keep himself together so he could be the rock everyone else needed, and that kind of heroism didn’t always jive with everybody), nor that of the rest of them, he also knew that their good will could only get them so far. And it was better to de-escalate before any conflict could even arise.

So, he excused himself from the conversation, which got him a concerned look from Papyrus and a somewhat suspicious one from Undyne, then promised he’d be back soon, and walked on over to the human.

“Human-” he started, only to be immediately interrupted.

“I have a name, you know?” they remarked snarkily.

He had not, in fact, known that. Despite the fact that six out of seven souls that made up Color were humans, Sans never wondered if names were a thing for humans. He knew none of the kids that were saddled with him had one. Though, as they were quick to remind him, that was just because they’d forgotten them. And, since their deaths and the subsequent empty vacuum that had formed in their memories, they had been using their soul traits as names. So, practically speaking, they did have those.

Basically, there was no real excuse for his ignorance, he just never thought to question his preconceived notions until that very moment. “Right… what’s your name again? Did you already tell me? Because my memory is, admittedly… pretty bad”.

The human let out a huff and rolled their eyes at him. They were acting like an angsty teenager. Sans would have known, he’d had to raise two of those. Hell, he never could quite forget Undyne’s punk phase and Papyrus’s terrible attempt at copying her. Those had been dark times… however, they had taught him to have more patience and not take the attitude he was given personally. It never was anyway. “Chara. You can also call me ‘Your Highness’ though” they huffed out after a few moments. “I don’t think I told you before, but you better not forget it this time!”. Their cheeks were all puffed up, and they’d put their hands on their hips and puffed out their chest like a proud bird. They could be funny sometimes.

“I promise I won’t” he said, even if he wasn’t sure he could keep that promise. Maybe later he could take a picture of the kitchen and write that tidbit of information behind it, so he could have it immortalized. Kindness suggested they make a scrapbook so he had a bit more space to add all the context their pictures could need on the side or below them and, while he and the other souls all loved the idea, he also knew they weren’t likely to get the opportunity to bring it to fruition any time soon. Once they could, however, they’d absolutely be doing that. “Now, Chara, I could see across the room that you were quite upset. Wanna talk about it?”.

Chara rolled their eyes again in an attempt to act unbothered. It was a complete failure. He could see right through them. There wasn’t only anger and bloodlust boiling underneath the surface, there was pain, too. And he knew how easily that could be redirected. It could be sharpened into a weapon while nobody acknowledged it, and he wanted to prevent that outcome.

Apparently, however, he took too long to say anything, because Bravery took his chance to butt into the conversation: “Do you wanna have us guessing until we figure it out? Is it that you’re jealous of Papyrus’s cool pose? Me too! Man, it looks like it’s straight out of a video game!”. He’d always been very excitable and eager to talk when possible, whether he had an audience or not. Color couldn’t be upset about him taking over now that he had an actual chance, not when the poor guy had spent years being miserable, first being trapped in a coffin in the King’s basement, and then being stuck in the Void. It hadn’t been easy for any of them, but especially not for him.

“It’s odd when you do that…” Chara mumbled. They didn’t seem upset about it, just confused. “And that’s not why I’m annoyed” they immediately added, raising their voice a bit, only to then, once again, lower it into a whisper to say: “I don’t even know what a ‘video game’ is…”. Color could feel the disappointment radiating off of Bravery at that last statement, but he had the common sense not to make his feelings known right then and there. It would not have ended well otherwise. “It’s just that… I know you guys don’t like me. You’re probably happy Killer has all the power now so you can get rid of me or forget about me”. The frustration they’d been harnessing until then left them leaving space only for an awful numbness. Seeing someone so young look so empty… that was a truly awful sight. “It would be for the best. Everyone should discard me eventually. Azzy did, the Player did, and Killer… he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t, but he was about to. If everyone does it, it must be right”.

There was a lot to unpack there, and Color didn’t have the tools to do it yet.

However, it cost him nothing to reassure a troubled kid, especially when all he wanted to say was nothing but the truth. “I’m not abandoning you. Goodbyes are stupid, remember? I can’t force the people you hurt to forgive you, though I suspect a few of them will want to, but you still got me in your corner. And, eventually, once we figure out how to travel to other universes, you’ll have other kids to play with too. And a therapist. Because Stars only know, you definitely need one” he kept a teasing tone for the last part, but he did mean it. He was pretty sure that everyone there could have benefited from seeing a specialist. And, of course, Integrity reminded him that he was on that list too, but he did his best to ignore him.

He’d had enough mental breakdowns to last him a while, he didn’t need to unearth more trauma.

His little speech thankfully got a small smile out of Chara. “You’re weird… not too bad though”. In angsty teenager speech that was the highest of honors and he was satisfied with it.

“Wanna go talk things out with the others now?” he offered, hopeful.

Chara shook their head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that” they admitted honestly in what he was coming to see as a rare show of vulnerability. “I think I’m gonna go hang out with Mom a bit. Maybe look for Flowey, we’ll see”. Before he could even interject, they raised their hands placatingly and added: “No killing. I promise”.

“I trust you” he answered with a simple nod. Surprise flashed across their face, closely followed by happiness and pride. They became surprisingly easy to read once he’d gotten used to looking past that ever-present anger they put forward. “Take it easy” he added with a smile and an affectionate hair-ruffle.

They swatted his hand away and puffed out their cheeks defiantly, but he didn’t miss the slight fondness underneath it all.

They’d be fine, he decided. He’d make sure that everything worked out. He owed it to them, to Killer, and also to himself.

Maybe that world hadn’t been meant to be the second chance at life he’d been hoping to get for the past two decades (maybe longer), but he still wanted to make it into one. And he owed it to himself and the souls to, at least, try to do so.

Chapter Text

Color, Killer, Chara, and Flowey were all gathered in Alphys’ laboratory for the first of the self-improvement lessons that the scientist had planned together with Papyrus and Undyne (likely while he had been busy comforting the human).

Originally, the idea had been that only their resident murder-inclined buddies had to attend those, but then Color had jokingly mentioned that he could have used the break for an eternal nap, and Papyrus hadn’t taken that too well. Quite the opposite, in fact. After letting out an offended screech and narrowing his lightless eye sockets at his crumbling appearance, he had strongly encouraged him to attend as well. He had originally considered denying that demand; however, it was incredibly hard for him to say no to any version of one of his siblings. Besides, he’d reasoned that he could be there as an emotional support for Killer and Chara as well as an extra layer of protection for whoever would be teaching.

He hadn’t expected the little annoying talking flower to be there. Justice seemed to have some particularly strong feelings on the matter. They didn’t remember why, exactly, as their death was the only thing they could ever clearly recall, but they knew they didn’t have a single ounce of trust for him. Sans and Perseverance theorized that it could have been because they’d been tricked by that soulless weed before, and maybe it had even led to their death. Something else could have happened; however, that was their current working theory. So, being trapped (nobody was holding them there, and the doors were all unlocked, but Color wasn’t one for backing out of a commitment he had agreed upon) in a small room with the guy was a rather tense and uncomfortable affair.

Regardless, for Alphys’ sake, he was trying to do his best to pay attention and make the best of the situation.

The others were nowhere near as keen to show interest as he was.

Killer was the only one among them who made some kind of effort. He had some one-use gloves on, and he’d come equipped with a notebook and a pen. At some point, he had been trying. But his attention was so fickle that, after merely ten minutes, he had already been distracting himself with anything that caught his attention. That happened to mostly be the flames coming out of the cracks in Color’s skull. He’d even wondered in a whisper at one point if he could cook a marshmallow in there, an idea Kindness, Bravery, and Justice were quick to cheer on inside their shared mind. Sans hoped they wouldn’t go through with it. He didn’t know if it would work; however, if it did, having to scrub the inside of his skull from any sticky residue left behind sounded unpleasant to say the least.

Chara was still highly guarded. The only reason why they’d even agreed to attend the lessons was because Toriel promised them a slice of chocolate cake after each one. They were an easy kid to bribe, that was for certain. Of course, getting them there had only been one of the hurdles on the road to their recovery, and, perhaps, it had also been the only one they could overcome, because they’d shown up with a knife and an attitude that spelled war. They kept an unwavering eye contact with Alphys throughout while playing with said weapon menacingly. Color didn’t get the impression that they were actually gonna attack, however, their already anxious teacher was seriously struggling to keep her composure.

As for Flowey, well, he was sitting in a flower pot in Chara’s lap. Nobody knew how Papyrus had managed to wrangle him in there, and he sure as Hell didn’t look happy about it. He was pouting, and he’d crossed two leaves that grew on his sides in front of him, as most other monsters would have arms. Any time anyone glanced his way, he repaid them with a death glare. And, as if that hadn’t been distracting enough, he hadn’t stopped mumbling angrily under his breath since they’d gotten there.

Alphys, too, couldn’t truly focus under those conditions. She stammered even on her good days, but they were half an hour into her presentation about what their prospects were if they decided to pursue some higher studies (which at least two of the people there had already done if Killer’s past matched his in any way), and she was struggling to get through even one sentence. Her hands were clasped tightly on the hem of her lab coat, and they were trembling faintly, while her tail swished around wildly (a sign of stress in lizard monsters as it meant that they were preparing to drop it to distract whatever predator was pursuing them and run. Most could grow it back again, but sometimes the new one would look odd and wonky. And that’s how he could tell that Alphys’ one already wasn’t her first).

Before he got the chance to speak up and break that awfully oppressive atmosphere that had come about (he hadn’t yet decided what to say, just that he needed to do something before someone got hurt), Mettaton threw the metal doors of the lab open and strode in as if he owned the place. His sparkly attire grabbed Killer’s attention immediately (and no, Color wasn’t at all salty about that… Sans, on the other hand, maybe a bit), and Alphys let out a breath of relief upon seeing her friend. Flowey and Chara were nowhere near as impressed. The human, in particular, had to shield their eyes, and he assumed it was because all the light that reflected off the performer’s body and outfit was hurting them.

“Al, darling, what is up with the dreary atmosphere in here? You all desperately need the help of a Star!” he emphasized the last word by digging out some glitter from his pockets and throwing it up in the air around him. Color had to concede that the robot definitely knew how to make an entrance.

Alphys rushed over to his side and grabbed his hand before dragging him forward. She was lucky that Mettaton was in his box form; otherwise, he would have most likely stumbled in the rush. “Y-yes. Yes, thank you for coming. Uhm… I-I think I’m not r-really cut out for this. I d-don’t know why I tried. I-I was trying to give them a n-new future perspective. You know. S-studying, science, all of t-that. Maybe you c-can take over?” she rambled while manhandling her poor robot friend into position in front of them and then gathering her things so she could make a swift exit.

Color felt awful for her.

Truthfully, he did think that getting the kid at least to go back to school would have been a worthwhile endeavor. Maybe the annoying flower as well, he did sound rather childish too at times, and, while soulless, nothing indicated that he couldn’t learn new things and find his path in life.

Of course, Mettaton was eager to dazzle them all with his knowledge of theater and performances, and that too looked like a great lesson for them. Especially for Chara and Killer, as both of them seemed to struggle when it came to emotional regulation and, in general, being in touch with their emotions. Flowey did too; he clearly needed some help to manage his anger; however, maybe working through it in therapy first would have been better in his case. But giving up on the first lesson for that one didn’t seem like a solution to the problem; it just felt like running away, and neither Bravery nor Integrity would stand for that.

“Dr. Alphys” Color interjected before the lizard could stutter her way out of there. “You’ve made a commitment here. It may not mean a lot to you, but it does to the rest of us”. Slowly, and making sure to maintain eye contact with her, he stood up and walked over. “I know it’s not easy”. At that, he threw a quick yet stern look over at Chara and Flowey, both of whom recoiled slightly. “But if you’re intending to back down now, you better explain so clearly to the ones you’re bailing on, not to Mettaton. You owe them that much”.

Had he been too stern?

He knew that he could be too harsh at times. Since his younger siblings had studied how to exploit his soft spot for them to always get what they wanted, he’d had to develop a backbone of steel. Being a single parent hadn't been easy when he hadn't even been an adult himself, and being unable to ever be firm in his decisions would have made it downright impossible.

But Alphys wasn’t his child. She was an adult, and she already struggled with anxiety and other issues. And the last thing he wanted was to exacerbate her sense of unworthiness. She was brilliant, and she’d worked hard to get where she was; he wasn’t trying to imply otherwise. But she couldn’t always run away at the first sign of hardship; it wasn’t healthy.

A minute went by in complete silence. Alphys looked stunned, like a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Color was starting to think that maybe he needed to backtrack and lay off of her.

Maybe he had gone too far. Maybe there had been no need to push her when she was already down.

Mettaton must have been thinking along those lines, too, because he cleared his throat and produced a microphone from one of his pockets, ready to get the show rolling and ignore that small spat. He didn’t get to do so, however, as Alphys finally found the courage to step forward and speak up for herself: “N-no, he’s right”. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, and Color took that as an opportunity to step aside and lock eyes with their two troublemakers. They seemed less inclined to misbehave now that they knew they had his full attention, and he regretted not putting them in their place from the beginning. “I agreed t-to help Papyrus and Undyne with you g-guys. I-I may be scared of you, but I m-made a promise. And… education is important. You t-three said you already tried e-everything, but… this may open up new paths for you. It m-may be a bit boring at times, heh, I know I c-couldn’t always focus when m-my professor droned on e-endlessly about alternate universes, but that just means that you’ve g-got yourself a challenge! And, as Undyne always says, you c-can’t back down from a challenge until you’ve c-crushed it!” she got fired up toward the end enough so that a flame of passion started to burn in her eyes.

That was the spark she’d been missing all along.

And what she’d said was a great hook for Chara and Flowey, since both of them were just as prideful and stubborn as Undyne, if not even more so than her. They exchanged a look with each other and nodded in agreement. “We’re in” they declared in unison.

Killer was still distracted by all the colors in the room, but Color had expected as much. The other skeleton was younger than him, but it was still likely that he’d studied alongside his version of Gaster anyway. If anything, at least to understand his own creation (that was, assuming that he and that world’s Papyrus had also been made in a lab). Doing more of the same wouldn't be too appealing to him. Though… he did catch him fidgeting with his soul for a moment and looking pensive, so maybe there was a chance after all?

It was hard to tell. Killer’s ever-present neutral smile made it really difficult to read him.

But, well, he wasn’t complaining and the other two seemed happy, so Color decided he was satisfied with that first lesson, too. Even if the Perseverance and Integrity both remarked that he himself hadn’t gotten much from it, seeing as he’d been worried about everyone else the entire time…

He promised them that he’d try harder to relax during the next lesson. Surely, Undyne’s discipline meant that he would need to be less concerned about his murderous friends' intimidation tactics, right?

Chapter Text

Undyne’s idea originally had been to train some energy out of them, something about how venting their feelings through a controlled fight was sure to get even the mopiest of them back in shape, but one look at Killer’s longing expression toward any blade he caught a glimpse at, Chara’s chilling smile, and Flowey’s sharpened roots got her to quickly change her mind.

Probably for the best, as she’d delivered them some leather armor the day before they were supposed to be wearing it for their safety, and Color didn’t like the feel of it one bit. The texture of the knee guards, especially, was too rough, and he knew that his already sensitive bones would have been bruised by the end of the day if he got those things anywhere near them. Besides, the chestplate piece was so thick that he doubted he would have been able to bend down with that on, and most of his strategy during fights was to rely on his high mobility to avoid each and every blow, as any one of them could likely have been fatal.

Probably.

He couldn’t look at his own stats, but, while he’d been fully alive, his body had been on one hope. The kids insisted that they were tough and wouldn’t go down so easily, and, while they were probably right, Sans couldn’t help but wonder if it would matter when the body they all inhabited was still his…

Regardless, with the idea of guard training discarded, Undyne moved them all into her house and announced that they’d be cooking instead. “I’ve been teaching Papyrus too, just so he can have some alternative to the guard since… yeah” she explained to try and squash the worry clearly visible on Chara’s face.

Flowey scoffed. “You should let him in” he grumbled. “He’s stronger than he seems”. There was no deep admiration behind his words, but they didn’t sound mocking either. More so as if he was simply stating a fact. One that he was almost forced to admit, as if he was under the belief that everyone already knew his words to be true, deep down. Either that or he thought that people remaining oblivious to Papyrus’s capabilities would have made for a more boring course of events.

While he didn’t remember all that much from his past, Color knew him to be right. But he also knew that Undyne’s reservations when it came to allowing Papyrus access to his dream job had never been about a perceived lack of combat skills. Especially not back home in his universe, since he’d trained the two of them side by side. And then, once he was gone… well, neither of them joined the Royal Guard, did they?

Point is, the issue had always been more of a matter of morals.

“I know he is” Undyne answered, proving his point. “But I just… I don’t want to see him hurt. And he’s got too big a heart to get through this job unscathed”. She looked away for a moment, gaze lost somewhere they couldn’t see. Had that been his sister, Color wouldn’t have been so surprised to see that more vulnerable and honest side of her. Perhaps it was a result of her growing up under his roof alongside his brother, but she’d never shied away from openness. Seeing that same kind of display come from this battle-hardened version of her, however, was quite unexpected. Perhaps the two versions of her were just more alike than he’d assumed.

It made it easier for him to know how to interact with her, but also harder for him to keep the line between past and present from blurring.

He was starting to get lost in his own thoughts when Killer leaned against him, eyes closed, and teeth slightly parted to let through a string of exaggerated sleep noises. Undyne turned to glare at them, and Color felt his cheeks light up rainbow.

Immediately, he went to raise his hands in a placating gesture and assure her that he had nothing to do with that mischief, but he noticed rather quickly that he couldn’t do so without bumping Killer off, so he resigned himself to giving Undyne a sheepish smile instead.

“I thought we were here for a lesson, all we got so far has been some boring whining about my- about Papyrus” Killer whined, high-pitched and theatrical. He then brought the back of one of his hands to his forehead and let himself fall toward Color, and he had to scramble to grab him so he wouldn’t hit the floor. Thankfully, he managed to do so, but to say that his soul was beating faster than it had since their fight was an understatement. “I’m about to die of boredom” he continued, unbothered by his near fall. If anything, he looked smug that his performance had gone off without a hitch and that he’d managed to interrupt everyone’s idle chatter so easily.

Was Killer a theater kid? Was that what he’d learned that day?

Chara let out an amused huff, Flowey only rolled his eyes, and Undyne sighed.

If Alphys had given her and Papyrus a little rundown of how their first lesson had gone, as he suspected, she must have known to expect some chaos. Because, while the murderous three had agreed to try and better themselves, their mentality regarding that world being nothing but their little playground hadn’t changed. And boredom would, without a doubt, be the easiest way to get them back on the wrong path.

That wasn’t sustainable long-term.

They had to teach those three to deal with all emotions in an appropriate way, even the unpleasant ones. But, Color figured, that would likely be coming after they got a few things to look forward to in life. Keeping them from doing something drastic had to be their priority. Patience flooded his soul, and that was how he knew that they agreed. They had to bide their time.

“You little scoundrel!” Undyne reprimanded, loudly but jokingly. It got a small smile out of Killer, though he didn’t push himself out of Color’s hold even then. He just stayed there, as slanted as one could be. “Alright, alright, let’s get started. So, you guys have a few options: we could make some pasta with mixed vegetables sauce, or we could try out the cookie recipes book that Gerson gifted me a while ago”. The sparkles that appeared in her eyes when she mentioned the old turtle and his gift made it clear which option she preferred.

“Admit it, you’re just tired of always cooking spaghetti from all your lessons with Papyrus” Flowey mocked. It probably had been supposed to be a lighthearted jab, but he wasn’t too great at controlling his tone, and everything he said ended up sounding spiteful.

Maybe those acting classes with Mettaton really were a great idea. From the start, he’d thought that they could benefit Killer and Chara, but maybe Flowey could have used some voice lessons, too. And, as some of his kids gently reminded him, he could have as well, since he wasn’t much better when it came to expressing himself. He always ended up either being too nervous or too brash. Perhaps putting on the mask of a performer could help him gain the confidence he needed to just be himself.

But that was for the future.

Now what he had to focus on was… cooking. Which he could sometimes be almost alright at. He had once managed to make a quiche with Toriel’s step-by-step guidance, and it had ended up tasting pretty good. It turned out only slightly burnt, and that was just because he’d been told that it was better to go a bit over than for it to have a soggy bottom; otherwise, someone could have gotten salmonella. It was a strategic fuck-up.

“We always burn down my house when we try” Undyne admitted with a shrug, eyebrows knit together in confusion. Certain things never changed.

Color still remembered the one time he’d let his siblings help him in the kitchen. They’d been whining about how tired they were of hot dogs, burgers, and fries every day (which, unfortunately, were all the items on Grillby’s menu), and not even the promise of a trip to the dumpster to search for new tasty snacks had helped to settle their mood. So, instead, he’d decided to do something that he’d read in a pedagogy book, and he’d involved them in the process. He told them they could learn to make something together, and he’d even let them choose what they would attempt. Needless to say, the only reason they still had a house after that was because Snowchester had been going through a blizzard, and the snow quickly extinguished the fire. The funny thing was that they’d only been chopping tomatoes (while he went to buy some pasta since they’d forgotten it) when they set the kitchen ablaze. He was still uncertain of how they’d achieved that.

After that, he’d gone to the Ruin’s door and begged the old lady to impart some wisdom to him.

Despite the fear he’d felt that day, he held a great deal of fondness for that memory. Things had been so simple back then…

Flowey laughed at the answer and, while Undyne was distracted by him, Chara swiped the cookie recipes book from her. Color had been ready to spring into action when he noticed, but it turned out that all the human wanted was to find the most chocolate-heavy item in there. Once they figured out what they were going for, they walked up to their teacher and, without taking their eyes off of hers, they silently pointed at the double chocolate cookie with chocolate drops inside and chocolate sprinkles on top.

The mere sight had Killer gagging, so Color excused himself, picked up the other skeleton, and carried him off to the couch. He had a feeling that neither of them was too passionate about cooking anyway. Besides, they needed the energy to deal with the inevitable sugar rush that would come after.

Once he was seated and comfortable, he looked down and found Killer’s cheeks glowing a faint dark blue color. How odd, he thought that his magic would have been red.

It took Integrity scolding him for manhandling Killer for him to realize what he’d done. Soon, his cheeks were alight as well, much brighter than those of his friend. His skull felt hot enough to cook an egg on it, and he couldn’t even make a joke about it without a chorus of all the kids, as well as Killer, begging him to let them try.

“Strong…” Killer whispered, more to himself than for anyone else to hear.

Still, Color had heard him, and, despite the embarrassment still burning in his cheeks, he couldn’t help but tease him about it a bit. It wasn’t his fault; Killer was just too cute. It almost made up for all the murders… maybe that wasn’t the best time to let the two notions mix in his head; he was bound to find the thoughts that would come out of it too thrilling for his own good. “Oh yeah, I’m all muscles” he flexed his arms without summoning any of his ecto-flesh (not that it would have been any more impressive even if he’d done so, he hadn’t had a proper workout since his siblings had stopped needing him to train them) so that the sleeves of his hoodie could sag pathetically around his bones. “Hope you’re into that” he tacked on the last part as a continuation of the joke, but, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he was a little bit curious about what Killer’s answer to it would be. Maybe it was stupid to get so invested in an alternate version of himself. A bit narcissistic even. But he couldn’t help it.

He was attached.

Killer snickered, and Sans, once again, thought that he looked adorable doing so. Happiness suited him. “Did you just forget that I can’t really see what you’re doing?”.

“No?” Color lied.

It wasn’t a very convincing one, and not even Killer, who so far had seemed to admire most stunts he pulled, seemed all that impressed by it. “Uh-huh” the other closed his eyes and relaxed against Color. “I’m not ‘into’ much of anything, I don’t think. I don’t know if I’m able to be. I can imagine how disappointing it must be for you to miss out on such a catch” he ended his speech with a self-deprecating chuckle.

They really were two sides of the same coin, huh? Because that complete lack of self-worth was something incredibly familiar to Sans as well. He knew it was something that they’d need to work on, but, truthfully, he didn’t know how to. It was one problem he couldn’t solve for himself, so trying to guide others through it didn’t seem like a worthwhile endeavor. However, maybe once they figured out how to access other universes, they could find someone more qualified for both of them.

For the time being, he focused on tackling the first part of Killer’s speech. “I really don’t mind either way. I’ve never been much for romance myself. Truthfully, all I’m hoping for is to just hang out like we have been doing. That’s more than enough for me. I still hope you’ll be able to figure out for sure what you want, but that’s only because I want you to be happy. And I think figuring out who you are as a person is vital for that”. Slowly, he reached out to brush his fingers against Killer’s gloved hand and, when the other responded positively to the touch, he gave it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Killer nuzzled his side with his face and muttered: “You’re a weird one…”.

“I’ve been told that a few times now”.

“Should make it into a pin then. So people will know that you’re aware”. Killer brought their intertwined hands up to Color’s chest, above his flaming scar, right where his soul was. His movements were mindless. He was lost in thought. “I should make you one. I used to be good at that kind of stuff… maybe Papyrus kept the materials”.

Color smiled, genuinely. “I would love to”. He didn’t add that he was certain that his brother hadn’t touched a single thing of his. That the last thing Papyrus would have ever wanted to do was to destroy his last few memories of Killer. He wanted his friend to see that for himself, to realize that he still belonged, that he was still loved. After all, words could only go so far; he needed factual evidence to be convinced.

They were similar in that regard, he thought, as the phalanges of his free hand fiddled with the camera Toriel had gifted him.

Chapter Text

Papyrus had chased Color, Killer, and Flowey (who had been sticking around a lot more than Sans’ version of him ever had back home) out of the house while he set up his lesson.

They were out for almost the whole day, Color and Killer hanging out together at the Librarby, and Flowey off somewhere on his own. He didn’t give them any warning before dipping out of there. He wasn’t the most social of monsters (quite the opposite, in fact, he seemed to find everyone irritating), so it wasn’t surprising, but it was still saddening. He must have been really accustomed to loneliness.

It was st some point past dinner time that they were all called back and allowed to witness the fruit of all of Papyrus’s hard labor, and it was something to behold. Every inch of the floor in the living room had been covered in pillows that had been meticulously taped down so they wouldn’t move. All the power sockets around had been covered up. All the corners and hard edges of the furniture had been sanded and rendered smooth and harmless. And yet, amidst all of that child proofing, there were some odd and dangerous constructions; three chairs had been piled up in the center of the room, barricades had been erected to cut off access to the kitchen with more or less anything Papyrus could find, and, lastly, against one of the walls were an empty planter, two bags of dirt, and a variety of seed packets.

Color didn’t know what to make of any of that.

“Killer, I think your brother is insane” was Chara’s comment on the whole thing. They had arrived a bit later than the other three of them, but they really hadn’t missed much since all the lot of them had done in their absence had been to stare slack-jawed at Papyrus’s creation.

Had that been his brother, Color would have been rather offended at the comment. People always judged his little bro’s way of interacting with the world. They considered him too eccentric, too loud, too weird. To protect him, Sans had built up an especially high level of sensitivity to those kinds of comments. After all, if he noticed first, then maybe he could make it so that the words never reached his brother.

But that wasn’t his universe, and he had to get it through his thick skull that it wasn’t up to him to fix every single issue that arose there. Sometimes he had to back off and let people handle their own issues.

It wasn’t easy for him, but he gave it a try.

Only for Killer to laugh at Chara’s comment and shoot back: “Trust me, Partner, you’ve seen nothing”.

Color opened his mouth to scold his friend for his rudeness and lack of tact, but Patience held him back. They flooded his mind at once with so many pictures of a smiling Papyrus that he froze in place. Though when he finally broke out of his state of shock and looked forward, he noticed that what he’d been shown hadn’t just been mere illusions. Papyrus was looking at his brother and the human with nothing but fondness. Hell, from the pose he was striking, it looked like he was also taking pride in their mocking!

It was possible that Color had jumped to conclusions a bit too early. Perhaps the monsters in that universe had been kinder to Papyrus than they’d been in his own, and maybe there never had been a reason for Killer to grow quite as protective of him as he himself had been of his brother.

There wasn’t a whole lot he knew about that world beyond what he could infer from the similarities between it and his own.

Papyrus simulated the sound of someone clearing their throat (of course, as skeletons, they had no such thing, but that had never stopped anyone from using it to give more flair to a speech) to get their attention, then, once all eyes were on him, he struck a dramatic pose. Somehow, his cape was billowing in a wind that only he was subject to. Color’s brother could do that trick as well; he was pretty sure that it was some form of magic. “I, the Great Papyrus, have decided to focus my lesson on trust and communication!” he proudly declared. His usually empty eye sockets were sparkling with determination; he was resolute in his goals. Which didn’t bode well for Color, who only really trusted him and Killer among those present, and also sucked at talking after his years spent in the Void.

Of course, he knew that the idea behind the lessons was that they were there to learn and grow as people. In theory, he knew that it was perfectly acceptable for him to be unskilled in certain aspects. But, in practice, he worried that, when tackling something he struggled with, he’d be less alert to any odd behavior from his murderous classmates. It didn’t matter how much the kids insisted that his friends could handle themselves and that he couldn’t keep shouldering every responsibility he came across, because his own mind wouldn’t stop screaming at him that he couldn’t fail yet another world.

His posture must have been particularly tense and rigid because he felt Killer wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, almost as if to shield him from whatever was bothering him, like he had done with his friend back in Undyne’s kitchen.

It helped him relax marginally, but he doubted there was anything that could dissipate his anxiety altogether. Not until that lesson was over.

Oblivious to his turmoil (or maybe just trying not to draw too much attention to it), Papyrus turned to the chair stack he’d made. “This Is The First Exercise, I Call It The Mighty Trust Fall!” he explained giddily. Under any other circumstances, Color would have found his excitement infectious. He was such a bright monster that it was hard not to crack a smile when he radiated positivity with all he had. Unfortunately, stormy clouds had settled over his mind, too thick for any of Papyrus’s light to filter through. “One Of You Will Be Lifted Onto The Chairs, And The Other Three Will Be Underneath. But Here’s The Catch, The Person On Top Will Be Blindfolded-” he pulled some strips of black fabric out of thin air while mentioning that “And Will Let Themselves Fall Off The Chairs. They Will Have To Trust That The Others Will Catch Them”.

Chara scoffed. “This sounds stupid” they remarked, crossing their arms and frowning.

“It’s An Ancient Human Ritual! I Read About It In A Magazine I Found In The Dumpster” Papyrus argued back.

Color couldn’t tell which of them had more of a point. Silly or not, the exercise sounded absolutely terrifying, especially for him, since he still didn’t know how fragile his current body was. Could a fall from that height kill him? What about Killer? For as different as they were, they’d both started off as more or less the same guy. Killer was seemingly a bit more artistically inclined than him, and more particular about his cleanliness, but he doubted either of those details would have had any impact on his sturdiness. Although, since his friend had recently acquired the power to rewind time, he was probably better off than him. Unless the human had gotten that back. It was still unclear to him how any of that worked.

While he was still busy worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong, Killer squeezed his shoulder one last time before stepping forward. “I will go up first. I can hardly see anyway, so I doubt I’d be very useful as a catcher”.

Papyrus welcomed his sacrifice with a smile. However, his cheeriness evaporated a bit when he went to grab his brother to lift him onto the chairs, and Killer flinched away from him. With how touchy he was toward Color, he never would have thought that he’d be so distant toward someone else. Then again, the two brothers did have a complicated relationship; maybe he just needed time. And that must have been the conclusion that Papyrus had come to as well, because he raised his hands and stepped back. And, in response, Killer gave him a grateful smile.

After the awkwardness between them lifted, Killer used his blue magic to put himself on the chairs, and then he turned with his back toward where Color, Flowey, and Chara were standing. He’d forgotten to put on the blindfold, so that was likely a way to circumvent the need for it.

Color immediately rushed to position himself right behind Killer. He knew he could lift him up with ease, so catching him without toppling over should have been easy for him. Certainly easier than for the scrawny human or the little weed without arms. Although, despite the obvious difficulty of the feat, seeing his enthusiasm apparently gave Flowey and Chara the motivation they needed to also give it a try. They’d both looked at him as if he were crazy at first, but then Killer started letting himself go, and they immediately joined his side.

In the end, catching Killer had been a team effort. Flowey used his roots to make a sort of net that he put under Color’s and Chara’s joint arms as a fail-safe, and nobody got hurt as a result.

It was more than just that, though. They not only succeeded, but they also had fun while doing so. As soon as the initial fright of Killer’s fall evaporated, they all looked at each other and laughed. It was such a ridiculous situation. They were standing over a floor covered in thick pillows, and yet they’d been afraid that something could happen. They cared. All of them. And maybe that wasn’t trust per se, but it sure as Hell felt like the beginning of it.

One by one, they all let themselves fall. Even Color. With all his fears and all his lack of trust. He still let Papyrus tie a blindfold around his eye and let himself be embraced by the void. The rush of air in his ear canals was too short-lived to make a sound, and the darkness wasn’t long-lasting enough for memories of the Void to creep back in. He was safe, and he was saved before his face met the plush ground.

Delighted with their performance on the first task, Papyrus hurried them along to the second of his contraptions. Apparently, he’d turned the kitchen into a labyrinth, and he’d drawn up two maps for it. This time, the idea was that they’d split into two groups. For each group, one person would be wearing a blindfold and venturing into the labyrinth, while the other remained outside with the map and gave them directions. They needed to reach the kitchen sink and retrieve one of the bones Papyrus had left there, and then make their way back to the entrance. It was supposedly an exercise to improve their communication skills that their host had dubbed ‘The Mighty Labyrinth of Whispers’ (Color assumed that the name was just to make it sound cooler, because quietly whispering the instructions seemed counterproductive if they wanted to be heard by their teammate).

In the end, he and Flowey stayed outside, while Chara and Killer went in.

The entire time, Flowey and Chara did nothing but bicker. The human insisted that the little flower was the worst at giving instructions, all while he yelled back that they were the ones who refused to listen. While they struggled, Color and Killer had a really easy time. Mainly because Integrity had completely taken over for Color and was dishing out orders with his usual calm and collected demeanor. He pretended not to be too invested in the challenge, but Sans could tell that his competitive spirit was burning like he’d never seen before. He knew that, before falling into the Underground, Integrity had been a classical dancer, and he’d learned from the few times the kid had mentioned his past that it was a harsh profession. Maybe what he was seeing was the influence of his background seeping through.

Regardless, he and Killer won.

Papyrus was, once more, elated by how well that day was going. Even more so when his brother offered him a high-five. Color was certain he’d seen a tear roll down his cheek at the gesture.

Honestly, he was pretty surprised too. That was the first of the lessons that had gone smoothly. Alphys had tried her best, but being the first in line had not done her any favors. Chara and Flowey had still been incredibly on edge and guarded, and they’d made sure to intimidate her. And even Undyne hadn’t managed to get through the program she’d laid out for them. And, even after they’d moved onto the cooking lesson, Color and Killer had dipped before things could get interesting.

Truly, Papyrus was something else. He was so cool!

The last of the exercises of the day was clearly meant more to allow them to wind down than to reinforce their communication skills or their trust in each other.

They were led to the planter against the wall and told to work together to fill it with dirt and plant whatever seed they agreed on unanimously. Color didn’t particularly care about what kind of flowers they went for; they were all pretty in his opinion. Killer and Chara, however, seemed dead set on golden flowers, which Flowey, despite looking like one, wasn’t the biggest fan of. They argued about it for a good five minutes, but eventually, they did manage to reach an agreement. Half the planter would be filled with golden flowers, and the other half with a colorful variety. They were all satisfied with the idea, and they got to work on it quietly.

Papyrus brought them some chamomile once they were done. “Good Job!” he praised them.

Chara was giving him an undecipherable look as they grabbed a cup and one of the cookies from the tray he was carrying. “But we won’t see them bloom…” they muttered almost sadly. “After we did all this work…”.

“Nye Heh Heh, Guess You’ll Have To Come Back Here And Water Them Until They Do Bloom If You Want To See Them. All Of You Should. Wink”. There was no motion that accompanied Papyrus’s last word. Color wasn’t even sure if his specific skull structure would have allowed him to wink, since it was more rigid than his or that of Killer. Nonetheless, he appreciated his lack of subtlety with his schemes.

That planter had been a trap. A way to give Killer and Chara one more thing to care about, so they wouldn’t restart their cycle of death and destruction. There was some irony behind it, certainly. But, mostly, it was just sweet. It showed how concerned Papyrus had been, not only for himself and the Underground, but also for them. It was a form of reassurance that, despite everything he remembered, he was still there for them, he still loved them.

The day concluded with them building a little pillow fort by taking some of the pillows Papyrus had taped to the floor (to his utter dismay) and having a sleepover together.

Despite the fact that they hadn’t received a lecture like they had with Undyne and Alphys, Color still felt like he’d learned something valuable that day.

Chapter Text

Having had to raise himself as well as his younger siblings, Color had taken on a myriad of bizarre jobs in his life. He’d worked in Gaster’s lab when he was still in stripes (he assumed he had to have been nothing more than an intern at the time, but his memories regarding it were fuzzy at best), he’d been a comedian at Mettaton’s resort, he sold hot dogs as well as a variety of junk he found in the dumpster in Waterfall, he scammed people (in funnier ways every time so that they wouldn’t be too mad about it), he was a waiter at Grillby’s for a while (until his boss discovered his real age and told him he couldn’t be around alcohol yet, legally), he’d been the Royal Judge and a Sentry. He truly had done it all.

And yet, as he stood in the middle of a makeshift stage they’d hastily assembled that morning out of some wooden pellets they’d stolen from a nearby construction site, he realized that he’d somehow managed to hit a new low.

For his lesson, Mettaton had decided that they’d be putting on a dramatic play for all of Snowdin. Something about a little girl traveling to a faraway land full of odd and magical creatures and having to meet the ruler of that realm to go back home? He wasn’t sure. Honestly, the subject wasn’t the issue. Especially since they didn’t have enough people to cover the whole cast, so their robotic host had decided that he would take on all of the major roles, while the four of them would be covering stuff like talking trees and flying monkeys. None of them was even sure of what a monkey was supposed to be. Chara mentioned something about a guy on the Surface getting ridiculed for saying that humans were monkeys, and that was all they had to work with.

No, the problem for Color was that he was still getting used to having any amount of attention on him. It goes without saying that in the Void, he’d never had to deal with it.

He knew that entertaining a crowd was something he should have been good at. He remembered fragments of his old comedy shows where he fired one pun after another, and the crowd erupted in laughter every time. Back then, he’d been a talented showman. His only critic had been his little brother, who mainly insisted that he should have tried to explore other kinds of humor sometimes. But he’d lost his spark entirely and now, where once there was passion and wonder, he only had fear.

Color was staring at the crown of leaves they had hastily stapled together for a quick, makeshift tree costume, completely lost in thought, when Mettaton approached him. The robot, currently in his more human-like form (which he was half-sure the other was only using to get to tower over all of them), gently used one finger to push his chin up so that their eyes could meet. “My my, Darling, I’m going to need you to look a bit more alive than that” he teased. “What’s bothering you?”.

Back in Color’s universe, his relationship with Mettaton hadn’t been the best. The robot was a crappy boss. He didn’t pay him what he was worth for the weekly comedy nights, and the only reason he’d stuck with it for so long was because he loved making people laugh.

This version of him, however, came off as far more caring. He’d dropped everything to set up that lesson, all because Alphys had asked him to. And now he was checking up on Color with seemingly no prompting from anyone (Chara was too busy figuring out how to put fake plastic wings on Flowey to have talked to him, while the little weed had a glare that could kill and was definitely in an unapproachable mood. Killer, meanwhile, was sitting at the edge of the stage, with a small, round pocket mirror in hand, trying to figure out how makeup worked). So, while he wouldn’t have opened up to the Mettaton back home, he found himself inclined to do so there.

“Just… nerves” he admitted quietly. He didn’t think he was ready to go into details about what exactly he’d been through with someone who was effectively a stranger to him yet. Maybe he’d never be. But he figured he could skirt around his trauma and still get through to Mettaton what he needed help with. “Any advice to deal with stage fright?” he asked with a small, nervous smile. He felt the need to wrangle his hands together; unfortunately, he was still holding the very fragile crown of leaves he’d made, and doing so would have crushed it.

Mettaton brought the thumb and pointer finger of his free hand to his chin to strike a pensive pose. Color admired his commitment to making every aspect of his life as dramatic and theatrical as possible. He kind of wished that he had the determination required to craft a whole new persona for himself and stick to it forevermore. Not just because he didn’t much like himself, but also because he was of the opinion that most people needed a confidence boost, no matter how fake it was. Perhaps if he kept at it for long enough, the mask he decided to don could become his true face.

After the minute or so the paparazzi already gathered there (on Mettaton’s request) needed to capture the robot’s best side, he relaxed his posture once more, wrapped an arm around Color’s shoulders, and led him backstage (which was just an empty alley to the side). “I think this conversation deserves a bit of privacy” he explained at Color’s questioning look. “It may be hard to believe, but I used to be really afraid of talking to others. I used to plot out in my diary how every interaction would go. And then that evolved into me writing out how all of my shows had to play out down to every detail” he laughed at the memory, as if for him it wasn’t painful to recall that he’d once been an outcast. Maybe he had a similar way of seeing the past as Toriel. Perhaps he, too, believed in not necessarily forgetting, but moving on. “And I’ve gotten plenty of crappy advice to deal with it. ‘Imagine the audience in their underwear’ or ‘just don’t look at them, pretend they’re not even there’. It doesn’t work. What does work is practice. Anxiety lessens over time. There is no magical spell to get rid of it immediately. At first, you just have to be brave”.

Bravery cheered at that. He always insisted that courage was the solution to most issues, and was happy to be proven right for once. Justice teasingly remarked that they thought he was fearless, and he scoffed at it. As if that notion was a ridiculous one, and not something he’d insisted upon many times before. Admittedly, his soul likely wouldn’t have been such a bright orange had he truly never been scared. There was no bravery without fear. Much like every other soul trait, to exist, it needed balance.

That said, for as glad as he was to hear Bravery be so happy, he didn’t know if that was the kind of advice he’d be able to follow. Because Sans, the skeleton he used to be before the kids had made his life so much richer, had never been brave. He was about as far from it as one could get. He was the type of guy to give up at the first sign of difficulty, to quit at the first scare.

He had overcome many difficulties; he hadn’t always just run away, but he’d never once done so for his own benefit. It was easier for him to put on a bold face when faced with adversity if he was doing it for someone else. And there, right at that moment, there was nobody else for him to be fighting for. Killer, Chara, and Flowey were all having an… acceptable time. Two of them were having fun, and the weed had yet to go on a murderous rampage, so he considered that one a win. There was nobody who would gain anything by his going back on that stage and playing the part of a talking tree but him.

Perseverance cut those thoughts off before he could tell Mettaton that he wasn’t feeling it and then high-tailed it out of there. “Oh no, you don’t” she hissed. “I haven’t put up with you and Killer flirting at every chance you get for you to surrender as soon as things get fun. Go out there and kick some ass!”. Despite her age (he wasn’t an expert in humans, but Integrity had mentioned before that she was undoubtedly younger than him, and that guy was still a kid, too), she managed to sound just like every upset parent he had ever heard before. It got him to straighten his spine, smile at Mettaton, thank him for his time and encouraging words, and march out of there in no time.

He would never stop marveling at how impressive all of the kids were.

As he walked, he heard Mettaton let out a startled laugh, which made his cheeks burn with embarrassment. That had been a really abrupt way to end their conversation. Many would have considered it perhaps a bit rude. It had gone badly enough that he knew he’d be thinking about it randomly in the middle of the night for years to come. But it hadn’t been the end of the world. It was a disaster, but he’d survived it.

That revelation wasn’t enough to assuage all of his fears.

The years of isolation he’d endured had stuck to him. The effects the Void had on his mind would linger, possibly for the rest of his life, however long that ended up being (he still wasn’t fully sure of how bad his physical condition was. Every time he took a shower or got ready for the night, he was careful not to let his eye light linger on the spiderweb of cracks running through his bones. That sight filled him with dread). A therapist could maybe help him work through that kind of stuff, but where he was currently, he didn’t have access to one. So, for the time being, that persistent dread he felt when doing anything out of the norm was there to stay.

But knowing that failure wasn’t the end did help spur him forward.

Killer was waiting for him when he got back to the stage. He’d done an impressive job with all of his visible bones (those being his skull, neck, and the tips of his phalanges), making them look like the bark of a tree. The atmosphere there was quieter now. A quick glance around revealed that it was probably Flowey’s doing, as several thorny roots emerged from the ground where the paparazzi had previously stood. Color saw no dust mixed in with the snow, so he didn’t worry about it too much. That newfound silence allowed him to more easily focus on Killer.

He let his friend paint his bones as well. Killer was careful to steer clear of all of his injuries, not wanting to cause him an infection. His fingers were gentle and light. He had his ecto-tongue summoned just so he could bite it as he focused. It was an adorable sight (a thought that made Perseverance audibly gag yet again. Sans was amused by her pure hatred of anything that could even vaguely resemble romance).

As he sat there, letting Killer take care of him, and watching Mettaton trying to wrangle together Chara and Flowey, who had now decided to endanger their costumes to dive into the pile of belongings the paparazzi had discarded when they’d run away earlier, he figured that maybe he’d made a bigger deal out of that whole situation than he needed to. Anxiety still churned in his marrow, but he could get through it. Hell, he was starting to think that he could even manage to relax!

Who knew that Mettaton of all people would be the one to teach him how to slow down?