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Chapter Text

Sympathy for the Devil
Prologue: (the boring beginning bits)

The human took the long way to work. It was a chilly spring morning and the fast talking man on the radio had promised rain. The human couldn’t find her umbrella that morning, but she chanced it anyway. The human had woken up with her bed-sheets tangled around her legs and her fat tabby cat sitting on her face. She pushed the cat off. The feline threw her a reproachful look and slunk away. The human rose and discovered, dismally— that she had woken up to a Monday morning.

It wasn’t rainy, just—wet. But the promise of rain hung in the air, while the fat clouds overhead grumbled with thunder, as if they were arguing with each other trying to decide whether to rain or not. The human bustled down alleyways. She pulled her hood down over her head. She didn’t run, but kept a brisk pace and kept her eyes down.

The long way was more secluded—yes, but it cut through the southern district, skirting around the edges of the city. This was the poorer side of town. The bad part of town. The monster part of town. The barrier had fallen but humanity had been quick to erect a dozen more in its place. Not physical barriers like before. No, these barriers came in the form of ‘human only’ signs in the windows of stores and restaurants. They came in the form of organized crime, in racial slurs spattered on the subway walls, in the form of paranoia, in the form of an unspoken border slicing down the middle of the city. in the form of separate but equal.

The human crammed her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie. She kept her nose pointed at the sidewalk, keeping as much of her face obscured as possible. She did not stop to admire the yellow flowers in the store windows. She said nothing, when she bumped shoulders with a hairy towering stranger—and picked up her pace when he grunted a soft ‘excuse me’. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was alien—a nail that stuck up oddly from the others. She tried to make herself unnoticeable, ignoreable wary of a hammer come to pound her back into place. It was an unsettling walk to say the least.

But at the very least it wasn’t crowded. Few monsters came out of their houses this close to dawn. A local gang had strong armed their way into establishing an unofficial curfew for all monsters. They didn’t want monsters milling around town after dark. But even so, the soft morning light was beginning to slowly draw the denizens of the southern district out of their homes and into the streets. The human felt a cold hand of fear wrap itself around her heart. Bollocks. She needed to hurry. Yet despite her anxiety she kept her same course through the streets.

The human couldn’t have handled the subway that morning. She just couldn’t. Too many people all crammed together in a sweaty awkward clump—each one practically buzzing muddled emotions. Buzzing with stress, with anxiety, with exhaustion— No, the human had to take the long way to work. Even if she had to walk in the rain through the southern district. It would be worth it.

The human let out a breath of relief when she neared the old meadow mill apartment complex. Once she was past it, she would come to the point where the road forked—the unspoken crossroads between the northern and southern districts. She was almost in the clear. The western fork was just a few yards and a chain link fence shy of the freeway. The human could hear the honking and rumble of the traffic barreling by and felt a twinge of pity for the monsters who had to live so close to the noise. But she didn’t dwell on it. She would take the eastern fork of the road—the one that led back into the familiar. Back home.

a sudden crash in the alleyway behind the apartment building caused the human’s heart to leap into her throat. she spun, searching wildly for the source.

“PLEASE COME OUT LITTLE DOG!” a loud voice sounded through the ambiance of clattering garbage cans and lids. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS ONLY WISH TO ASSIST YOU.” This time the human heard a distinct snarl in the mix—it sounded like a dog. A very agitated dog. The snarl rose into a yelping snap and the loud voice let out a gasp. More crashing. A trashcan lid bounced and rolled out of the alleyway spinning to a stop near the human’s feet. She was ready to bolt, feet poised to run, fist’s clenched so hard that her nails dug into the palms of her hands. But then…

“P-PLEASE… YOU’RE BROKEN…THE RED STUFF IS SUPPOSED TO STAY INSIDE OF YOU…I-I’M SURE OF IT…” the voice quavered softer than before. The human frowned chewing her lower lip until she tasted blood... The terrifying voice from the alleyway sounded as though it was biting back tears. The human’s shoulders fell. Bollocks….

Against her better judgment, swallowing down all the lectures her parents had drilled into her head about stranger danger, all the news reports of monster attacks and gang violence—the human approached.

Chapter Text

‘where’s your sense of danger? I swear you were born without any ‘spidey-sense’’ That was what the human’s parents had said about her. She had always been a spacey person, even when she was little. She’d have hopped right into a kidnapper’s van if he had candy or a puppy. Realizing this, the human’s parents went to great lengths to drill some sense into their child’s head.

‘Never eat candy you find on the street.’—they would say.

‘If someone you don’t know offers you a ride home,--run’

‘Never talk to strangers.’

The human pressed her back up against the cool bricks of the apartment complex, steeling herself. She was right around the corner from the alleyway now. The monster’s voice went on in that same coaxing tone—only to be answered with more snarls and keening. The human squeezed her eyes shut.

‘Never let a stranger inside the house.’

‘Never go out by yourself after dark’

‘Never go into a dark alleyway with a monster even if he sounds like a nice guy...’ The human’s mind chimed in sardonically. She was shaking now. ‘…even if he has a puppy…’ Heh. Her parents would have been disappointed in her life decisions. She turned the corner.

The human wasn’t sure what she had expected when she shuffled into the alleyway. But whatever her frantic brain could manage to conjure up was nowhere near as bizarre as what she actually found. A skeleton. it was a living breathing skeleton. How was that even possible? Her mind swam trying to process what she was seeing. It was freaking huge! The skeleton was crouched down on its (his?) hands and knees, rear-end in the air. It had a cheekbone pressed to the dirty ground as it tried to peer under the dumpster. Normally such a sight would have made the human laugh. Her mind was swimming before—now it was flat out drowning. Oh bollocks.

Why had she come into the creepy monster alley for again? For the life of her she couldn’t remember. All she could do was stand there and gape like a bass with its mouth open. Why wasn’t she backing away? She SHOULD just back out of the alley and pretend this had never happened. The monster hadn’t seen her yet, too preoccupied with the dog. She could slip away without it ever knowing she was—

The Skeleton drew back sharply letting out a loud high pitch yip as he jolted to his feet, suddenly seeming to grow to an impossible height. It let out another garbled yelp, clutching it’s glove covered hand. The human felt a chill race down her back. Ah. There it is. The spidey sense. She ducked behind a recycling bin. The alleyway was silent for a moment. Only the sound of the dog’s nervous growling. Had the monster seen her? She should just run for it. Get up and charge to the border, and pray that those very long skeletal legs wouldn’t overtake her before she got a good scream out. The human shifted to a squat heart banging around against the inside of her rib cage. But then— .

“A-AH… IT APPEARS YOU HAVE BITTEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS LITTLE DOG.” The loud voice broke the silence. Cementing the human in her shoes once more. “THIS IS CLEARLY AN UNFORTUNATE…ER…ACCIDENT. YOU MUST HAVE CAUGHT THE DELICIOUS AROMA OF SPAGHETTI ON MY HANDS… YES… YOU’VE… MADE A MISTAKE…” He sounded so unsure that she risked a peek from her hiding spot. The skeleton had his back to her, standing over the dumpster. One gloved hand scratching the back of his skull. For the first time, the human saw him proper. He was easily more than eight feet tall by her estimations. But he didn’t loom exactly—not how she thought he would. Rather his posture was almost awkward, he kept alternating between wringing his hands, and shifting them to his hips or face—like he wasn’t sure exactly what to do with them. The skeleton sudden struck a heroic pose, one hand fisted against his sternum the other on his hips. The wind even seemed to pick up a little, causing his little red cape to flutter dramatically. The human gawked.

“FRET NOT, ONCE I THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAPTURE YOU, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO EAT MY AMAZING SPAGHETTI WHENEVER YOU WANT!” he declared with a hearty ‘nyeh heh heh!’ His laugh immediately turned into a choke when the dog took this opportunity to dart between his legs. Making a bee-line towards west fork. Towards the freeway.

The human acted on impulse, leaping from behind the bin and threw her arms out to block the dog’s escape from the alleyway. It nearly tripped and skidded over its own feet when the human pinched off his exit. It fumbled around with a keening yelp, its mouth frothing, eyes wild. The skeleton was right. The dog was hurt. Bits of dried blood crusted around its neck, there was something shiny tied there, but the human barely had time to take it all in before the dog darted back beneath the dumpster, disappearing once again among the garbage. For a brief instant the human felt relieved. Crisis averted. That is, until she realized she was standing in the mouth of the alleyway. Exposed. Her eyes darted upwards and instantly locked with a pair of black eye sockets. Impossibly—the sockets widened. The human felt her face pulling its fish impersonation again. Oh Bollocks…

Chapter Text

This…wasn’t how she’d expected things to go. But then how often does reality live up to our expectations? Seeing as how she was practically trespassing, human had expected a much more hostile meeting. True, there wasn’t any sort of law that forbid humans and monsters from intermingling. But it was something that just didn’t happen. Humans steered clear of the monster part of town and monsters did likewise. After all, humans had imprisoned the monsters in an underground prison for centuries. And monsters were said to be capable of ripping the souls right out of people’s bodies. Obviously there would be some bad blood between them. The human had expected anger, disgust, which would quickly escalate to violence. The monster would rush her, shout threats and obscenities, maybe even call for his pals to help him run her off. And when that happened, the human would fight, flee, beg—whatever it took for her to escape in one piece. She was ready for aggression—but not for was what actually followed.

“OH! GREETINGS SMALL…” –he looked her up and down- “…TRASH-DWELLING HUMAN! WHAT CAN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, DO FOR YOU?” The monster beamed, bending down as if to get a better look at her—glove covered hands wresting on his knees. The human took an automatic step backwards. What? She tried to absorb what he’d said—to make sense of it. But her mind kept hitching over the phrase ‘trash-dwelling’. Her eyes roved over the monster groping for understanding. He wore thick bright red rain boots and some type of armor. The armor was a bit scuffed and dirty—probably from hunkering around in the trash. The skeleton shifted under her gaze, smiling waning. The human blinked. Bollocks. He…he’d asked a question hadn’t he? The human opened and closed her mouth dumbly, trying to formulate a polite way of saying ‘please don’t murder me’, but brain didn’t seem to be working right. Nervous beads of sweat began to form on the skeleton’s forehead. He was waiting. Say something.

“you’ve got a McDonalds wrapper stuck to your shoulder” the human blurted out. Why? Of all things was that what her mind chose to focus on? The skeleton faltered eyes dropping. And sure enough, he had a grilled McChicken wrapper sticking to the roundish armor of his left shoulder. He snatched the wrapper up, crumpled it, and tossed it over his shoulder. It left a smear of ketchup in its wake. With a nervous sort of laugh He began brushing himself off, looking anywhere but at the human.

“u-uh you’ve….you’ve got a little-.” She gestured vaguely to the ketchup on his shoulder. He paid her the briefest glance before pulling out a Kleenex and rapidly began wiping his arm clean.

“BETTER?” he asked.

“you got it…”

Another beat of silence. What now? The human was at a loss. All those perfectly reasonable courses of action she’d considered—like running for it or screaming her head off—now seemed kind of…well, rude. Seeming to feel that this exchange was quickly devolving into another staring match, the skeleton decided to break the silence. “EHEM..” He cleared a nonexistent throat, then shifted into his previous confident pose.

“I…I SEE YOU HAVE BEEN RENDERED SPEECHLESS SMALL HUMAN. A PERFECTLY NORMAL RESPONSE IN THE PRESENSE OF ONE SO MARVELOUS AS THE GREAT—“

“What happened to the dog?” The human hadn’t meant to interrupt and she winced, hearing the accusation in her own voice. Bollocks, where did her manners go? The monster’s skull drew back, smile falling.

“I…I DON’T KNOW EXACLTY.” He admitted. “ I HEARD IT WHINING DOWN THERE WHEN I CAME TO DISPOSE OF MY GARBAGE. I THINK IT MIGHT BE HURT.” the skeleton tapped his fingers together. “IT EH…IT WON’T COME OUT.”

The human drew in her chin. There were few things she took pride in. But her ability to read emotions had always been something she was good at. Hell, It was probably the only thing she was good at. That’s how she came to work at the local animal shelter. She knew how to read body language. And this monster, for the life of her just seemed so….genuine. Was that the reason she hadn’t run away from the beginning? Her eyes flicked from the worried skull above her to the dumptster where the injured animal hid. She set her chin. Alright. Time to do something ballsey…

“Let me see.” She strode towards the dumpster and the skeleton moved aside to let her pass as she knelt down. She could feel the monster hovering over her, watching the scene. Ignore it. Just focus on the dog… The dog looked like it was on its last leg. It was small, mangy— some kind of shiatzu- pug mix. It had a thick metal wire tied around its neck so tight that it had cut into its flesh, leaving it bloody and raw. The fur was so matted and overgrown that it seemed to have trouble seeing clearing through it. The dog might have been white or a light grey, it was hard to tell under all that grime. It let out a whine and the human felt a stab of anger. Who would leave an animal in this kind of condition? She reached a hand slowly, coaxingly towards the opening.

“WAIT!” suddenly an enormous gloved hand grabbed the human’s wrist and yanked it back. The scream she’d been holding in, escaped from her throat and she yanked her arm. The skeleton released her instantly, fumbling back and falling back on his rear. Her hand raised reflexively to her chest and she spun around to face him. The skeleton balked, crab walking back away from her, looking for the life of him like she had just slapped him.

“I-I’m sorry...” the skeleton whispered. Or at least, as close to a whisper as someone like him could manage. He wrung his hands. “I, the great papyrus do not think you should get too close to the dog.” awkwardly, the skeleton pulled off one of his gloves to reveal the white hand bones underneath. a long  splintering crack running the length of his palm—it almost looked like cracked china. The human’s eyes widened.  that’s where the dog bit him… “I..I don’t really understand why… but please away from its mouth…”

Oh…Ouch. The human felt a wave of guilt for screaming. She’d never have guessed that an eight and a half foot skeleton could pull off a ‘kicked puppy’ look with such finesse. She ran a hand over her face, taking in a deep breath.

“You want to help the dog right?”

“OH YES, YES OF COURSE! BUT IF IT IS A MEAN DOGGIE, THEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, INSIST THAT YOU STAY AWAY FROM IT.” He wrung his hands, then reached hesitantly towards the opening. “HERE—I WILL PULL THE DOG OUT. YOU KEEP YOUR TINY HANDS AWAY…” Without thinking she grabbed his wrist.

“No, don’t. It’s okay really. I do this for a living, “ she tried to sound reassuring. “and I don’t think its really a mean dog, its just scared is all.” The skeleton cocked his head as if the concept was entirely foreign to him. She tried to clarify. “Y’see, sometimes when animals get scared they act aggressively to try and scare off whatever is scaring them. They’re just protecting themselves.”

“I WOULD NOT HURT THEM. I AM THEIR FRIEND…” The skeleton mumbled. The human bit her lip. She felt like she was talking to a child. How should she put this…?

“It just… doesn’t know that you’re its friend yet. When an animal is scared, it can take time for them trust. Especially if they’re hurt like this one. So trying to reach in and grab them isn’t going to work.” The skeleton reluctantly obeyed. He raised his palms frowning at them miserably.

“THEN…WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?”

The human pointed to the other side of the dumpster.

“Shh. Sit over there so you can box it in if it tries to escape out the side. Let me handle this. And keep your voice down. U-um, I mean please…” she flushed, realizing what she was doing. Here she was, a tiny 5-foot-nothing girl barking orders at a giant skeleton monster as though he was one of her little brothers. If the skeleton was offended by her slip, he didn’t show it, but quickly scrambled- half crawling over to the spot she’d indicated. He sat down and drew his knees up under his boney jaw. The human took a deep breath and went to work.

Earning the trust of a frightened, injured street dog wasn’t a quick process. It involved a lot of waiting, a lot of coaxing and—in the human’s experience—a lot of treats. She took It slow, reminding herself of the steps. don’t stare or look directly into its eyes. Keep your distance at first. use soft words and coaxing to get it comfortable. Show it that you’re gentle. Offer it treats. The human patted into her bag and pulled out the ham sandwich she’d packed for lunch. She tore off tiny pieces and tossed them under so that they landed close to the dog’s snout. After several minutes of soft words and coaxing, the dog brought his snout closer and gave the sandwich a sniff, then it snapped the food up. The second it swallowed Its nose instantly snuffled around for more. The human put a little into her hand and held it out to the dog.

There was a soft cooing sound. The skeleton—true to form—hadn’t moved so much as an inch from where she pointed. But when he saw the dog begin to crawl towards the proffered hand, he clapped his palms together, his entire body practically vibrating with joy. Gingerly the dog took the bite of sandwich. The human risked brushing her fingertips over its snout. The dog gave them a lick. The skeleton rocked trying his hardest not to make a sound. his boots clicked together eagerly and his bony hands clasped in front of his mouth to suppress any unbidden chirps of glee. The human continued to pet and coax the dog until it was all the way out into the open. It wiggled forwards and stuck its face into the human’s side. Her entire body relaxed and she turned to see the skeleton gaping at her in wonderment, as though she had just pulled a rabbit out of her hat. He made a move like he wanted to touch the dog but then lowered his hand uncertainly.

“DO YOU THINK HE’LL LET YOU PICK HIM UP…?” Papyrus asked. The human tried to shift the dog closer and it practically melted into her arms. She smiled, and gave him a nod.

“GREAT!” he leapt to his feet motioning towards the apartment complex. “COME HUMAN, BRING THE DOG INSIDE.”

The human’s smile froze as she remembered where she was. And who she was with. Oh. Oh this was sketchy. True she’d warmed up considerably to the big goofy skeleton. But going into the apartment of a monster she just met? Hell, this right here was 52 original flavors of sketch. She looked at the skeleton’s hopeful face, then at the tired animal curled up in her arms, then she sighed. Screw it. In for a penny, in for a pound. She nodded her assent.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The skeleton closets

The skeleton's apartment was surprisingly normal. The human cast her eyes around the space, expecting to find cobwebs and pagan alters. But no, It was merely a simple three bedroom flat with a small kitchen and living room. There was a bowl of fruit on kitchen table. So normal. It was almost disappointing.

"UHGH! LAZYBONES… HE'S LOCKED THE DOOR AGAIN…" The human blinked snapping out of her reverie.

"Sorry—what?"

Papyrus was tugging on the doorknob of one of the rooms, trying in vain to open it.

"MY BROTHER, HE'S LOCKED UP THE LAB AGAIN AND HID THE KEYS!" papyrus groused, stomping one of his large boot covered feet.

"Oh." She shifted, the mangy little dog was beginning to grow heavy in her arms. "Uh, maybe we could use the kitchen table or—"

"NO, NO SMALL HUMAN, THE KITCHEN TABLE IS FOR SPAGHETTI, NOT FOR MISSIONS OF EMERGENCY ANIMAL RESCUE." papyrus let out a 'NYEH HEH HEH' and patted her on the head. The human jumped, startled by the gesture. But to her credit she didn't scream or pull away this time. Papyrus—thankfully, did not seem to realize her moment of distress. He was scratching a bony finger along his jawbone making a soft 'scrit scrit scrit' sound. The human waited, wishing she could put the dog down.

"HELVETICA!" papyrus exclaimed with a snap of his fingers.

"Hel-whaty-what?"

"… PROBABLY COERCED HIS FAITHFUL PET INTO TO GUARDING THE KEY WHILE HE WAS AWAY!" Papyrus declared, marching over to a fish tank in the corner of the room. "HA! WE'LL JUST SEE ABOUT THAT?" The human pulled a face and followed. Damn that skeleton could move fast. curse those abnormally long legs... The tank was lined with paper bedding and fake plants and had a large grey rock right in the middle. The human squinted inside, but couldn't figure out where this 'Helvetica' was hiding. From the setup she figured it was probably a snake or small lizard. Papyrus pulled off his glove and reached a boney hand into the tank. Gingerly he lifted the rock up.

VERY CLEVER BROTHER, USING YOUR PET ROCK TO GUARD YOUR SECRETS!" he produced a small brass key from under the rock, beaming. " BUT TOO BAD HE IS NO MATCH FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The human glanced between his proud grin and the key he brandished triumphantly. She shrugged and gave him a polite clap. "NYEH HEH HEH…" He ran a bony finger down the length of the rock as if he were giving it a pat then put it back into the tank. He then poured a handful of what looked like bits of multi-colored construction paper and littered it down on top of the rock. It's not polite to stare… The human gave her head a little shake and looked away. Papyrus wasted no time unlocking the offending door and ushering the human inside. The lab was white, sterile and immaculately neat. The walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books and computers. There were strange diagrams and notes on nearly every surface. The human frowned.

"um. Papyrus? Are you sure its alright for us to be in here?" she asked feeling as though she were intruding on someone's private space. Obviously whoever owned all this had gone to the trouble to lock it up and hide the key. So was it really okay for them to be barging in like this?

Papyrus simply patted her shoulder and kept walking, nyeh heh hehing as if he thought she'd made a joke. The tall skeleton milled around like he owned the place, so she decided to let it go. Towards the back of the room was a metal examination table. It wasn't a bad place to work either, the clean surface and the overhead lights were almost identical to the ones they used over at the shelter. Papyrus motioned to the table.

"YES, PUT HIM DOWN HERE!"

Carefully the human placed the dog down on the cool surface and turned the lights on she could better see the extent of the damage. She grimaced. The dog's neck was worse off than she'd first thought. The fur around its neck had fallen out replaced by raw, rancid smelling gashes. Probably infected. The dog would no doubt need antibiotics. She took a deep breath patting the head. First things first.

"We need to get this wire off. Do you have anything we could cut it with?"

Papyrus squinted giving the metal wire an experimental poke. He scratched his jawbone.

"POSSIBLY…I DON'T KNOW. SANS DOESN'T REALLY LIKE ME BRING KNIVES AND SHARP OBJECTS INTO THE FLAT ANYMORE…" sans—that must have been the brother. The human raised a brow.

"why not?"

"I THINK HE SAID HE HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT BEING ATTACKED BY KITCHEN APPLIANCES. IT SEEMED TO HAVE GIVEN HIM QUITE THE SCARE." Papyrus shrugged, looking through the drawers. "I ASKED HIM IF HE WOULD LIKE ME TO THROW OUT THE BLENDER AND WAFFLE IRON AS WELL BUT HE DECLINED…. NOT SURE WHY…AHAH!" the skeleton produced a large pair of metal shears from a drawer, holding them out to her. "THIS SHOULD WORK!" The human took them dubiously. They looked sharp, but could they really pierce the metal wire? It was worth a try.

"Keep him distracted, um… please." she added on the last bit as an afterthought. The skeleton began cooing and patting the dog comfortingly while she began washing the wound. The dog jumped at intervals when she brushed over a particularly sore bit of his neck and Papyrus would instantly lean down and pepper the animal's head with kisses. How do you even kiss without lips? The human gave her head a little shake. If she kept getting stuck on every bizarre thing she'd be here all day. Focus… carefully, she slipped the edge of the blade under the wire. She winced the wound smelled rancid—probably infected. Just how long had the dog been tied like this?

After a deep breath and a nod from papyrus, she squeezed down on the shears. But the wire was too thick, and she put little more than a scratch on its surface. Grumbling she tried squeezing harder. And Harder still. The wire remained intact. C'mon….c'mon…. she put her weight into it.

SNAP!

There was a sharp yip. it took the human a second to realize she'd screamed. The shears had broken in half, two blades separated from each other. Something red glinted on the tip of one of the blades. Papyrus' eyes bugged out.

"HUMAN! OH MY GOSH! YOUR HAND!" papyrus shouted. "YOU'RE BROKEN, I'VE BROKEN YOU OH MY GOSH!" Her hand? She looked down to find a thin bloody gash across the palm of her hand. She flexed her fingers and the blood pooled up in the crevices of her palm. She blinked. Oh.

"CURSE MY FOOLISHNESS! I SHOULD NEVER HAVE MADE YOU USE THE IMPROPER TOOLS FOR THIS DELICATE OPERATION! IT'S ALL MY FAULT, HUMAN I AM SO SORRY-"

"uh…no, its fine…" her palm wasn't bleeding too badly, the wound must not have been very deep. Suddenly a white cloth was pressed down onto her palm, hiding the red from view.

"QUICKLY! APPLY PRESSURE! CAPTURE THE RED STUFF HUMAN! DO NOT LET IT ESCAPE!"

"Capture…?"

Papyrus ran into the bathroom and returned moments later carrying a small white box with a red X on the front. A first aid kit? Why would a skeleton even need one? They didn't even have any skin.

"H-HERE! NOT TO WORRY HUMAN, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL ADMINISTER THE ADHESIVE MEDICAL STRIPS." Papyrus got down on his knees in front of her—his head was almost level with hers. He held up A fistful of drugstore band aids. The band aids had Hello Kitty on printed on them.

Oh.

And just like that—it happened. A barrier fell. Whatever fears and reservations the human had about this huge, guileless loud, wonderful, skeleton shattered. It just burst. Soundless. Gentle. No more yielding than popping a soap bubble. And then it was gone.

"H-HUMAN…?" Papyrus brushed a large, oddly warm hand over her head. And just like that—the human began to laugh. She laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes, so hard that it hurt her ribs. Relief. The skeleton stared at her as though she had suddenly sprouted a second head. His fingertips clicked together nervously. The human grinned up at him, then raised her wounded hand up for him to see.

"Look…we're twins…."she snorted. Papyrus let out a belabored groan.

"THIS IS NO TIME FOR JOKES HUMAN! I—"

"Charlotte." The human interjected. Papyrus blinked, then gave his skull a little shake as if he'd lost his concentration.

"I….WHAT?"

The human wiped the corner of her eyes on her sleeve. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders.

"My name is Charlotte." She put out a hand as If this was their first meeting, grinning broadly. Papyrus lit up like a Christmas tree.

"IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU HUMAN CHARLOTTE!" He grabbed her hand in his and shook it vigorously—previous annoyance all but forgotten.

"Likewise. Uh, sorry about your scissors…" Charlotte said, looking over at the broken pieces.

"THAT IS QUITE ALRIGHT HUMAN-! THEY WERE MY BROTHERS ANYWAY." Charlotte pulled a face but let that one pass. She tended to her hand thoughtfully.

"We're probably going to need some wire cutters to get that thing off. Not sure if anything else would work as well…"

"I THINK KNOW JUST THE PERSON WE CAN ASK."

"Another monster?" Was it rude to assume?

"YES SHE LIVES A FEW FLOORS UP—I'M SURE SHE'LL HAVE THEM!"

It was decided that papyrus would go upstairs to his friend's flat to see if she had a pair of wire cutters they could borrow. Charlotte didn't really want to stay there alone. But reluctantly agreed so that someone could keep an eye on the dog.

Minutes ticked by and charlotte sat by the dog, patting his head. she waited. Half an hour passed. Charlotte glanced at her watch. What was taking papyrus so long? The human got up, stretching a kink out of her back. She was definitely going to be late for her shift at work. Better shoot the boss a text… To her annoyance her phone was dead. She scoured the room for an outlet so she could charge it up. She found one near a stack of file folders and plugged it in. The topmost folder was a bit dog-eared and torn, probably old. She glanced over the label.

'Properties of the human soul.'

Charlotte blinked.

They say monsters have the ability to rip people's souls right out of their chests. They say that's the reason they were locked underground to begin with. Charlotte wasn't sure who 'they' were, but they said a lot of things. Still…Charlotte glanced around. Papyrus still hadn't come back from his friend's apartment. He was so loud about everything he did—certainly she'd hear him when he came back in…right? Charlotte chewed her lower lip. It couldn't hurt to take a peek could it?

Whenever Charlotte had heard people talk about souls it was either in a religious setting or in a new agey- buy-my-overpriced-incense- kind of way. But this… the pages were lined with algorithms, and charts that looked like something out of a college text book. She squinted at the numbers, trying to make sense of them. On one page there was a detailed illustration of a human body. It was labeled and for the most part looked fairly accurate. But in the center of the person's chest there was a cartoonish looking heart. What was that? But she didn't get the chance to investigate further.

THUMP.

Charlotte had always been good at reading emotions. It was about the only thing she was good at. So she felt the drastic shift in the atmosphere of the room long before she saw anything else. The air seemed to grow thinner, sharper colder… The glow of the halogen lights seemed to dim, and a feeling of coldness began to spread over Charlotte's body. The warm comforting feeling papyrus left behind was sucked out of the room, like the air being let out of a balloon. The comfort was replace with…with…

The dog began to growl, hackles rising—it must have felt it too; the electricity in the air, the feeling of staring eyes—of cold, ferocious rage focused like a laser on her back. Charlotte trembled…she wasn't alone. A deep, faintly raspy voice boomed behind her.

" HUMAN...TURN AROUND..."

Slowly, Charlotte obeyed.

A dark shape loomed in the doorway. Two pinpricks of white light, trained in her direction. Charlotte took a shaky step backwards. The pinpricks roved over the scene. When they landed on the human again they narrowed dangerously. She took a shaky step backwards. The shape advanced. Bollocks they were huge, standing nearly two feet taller than her, built big and broad—a far cry from papyrus' scarecrow build. When they drew nearer, the pinprick eyes glowed bright enough that she could make out the figure's face. A skeleton, round and wide. They wore a wide toothy grin that didn't reach their eyes. The eyes locked onto her and then…and then…

Oh. Bollocks. That rage. Never in her life had she felt such suffocating, animosity directed at her. Not just anger but something deeper. Loathing? Charlotte drew her hands up.

This is what you expected isn't it? Are you really that surprised?

Charlotte felt hot tears sear her cheeks. She was going to die. Oh bollocks she was going to die. The only way out was behind the skeleton, past that brick wall of crackling rage. She needed to run; she could not. She needed to shout, to call out for help; she could not muster much more than a terrified whimper as her back hit the wall. No way out. No way out. No way out. No way out. No way—

There.

Charlotte's eyes fell on the broken scissor blade which lay forgotten on the table. All at once her mind was clear. All the fear, the rage, the uncertainly—was muffled, as though it had stepped into the other room. In its passing was a kind of detached calm. The shiny surface of the blade seemed to wink at her in the dim light. She was filled with...

The back of Charlotte's head smashed against the wall with a sickening crack and all the terror and rage came howling back into the forefront, demanding attention. She tried to shake the stars from her eyes as a deep throaty chuckle rumbled from the skeleton. Charlotte's breathing hitched. She couldn't move. Why couldn't she move?

"I know what you're thinkin' pal.."

Then all at once the skeleton was right there looming over her. His skull less than an inch from her own, nose to nose. She could feel his breath on her face. The lights had gone from his eye sockets, leaving empty black holes gaping back at her. The skeleton's grin widened.

"It's a baaaaad idea…."

Aaaaaand another cliffhanger. 

For whatever reason, the whole time I was writing this chapter... this was all I could imagine...

Chapter Text

Thank you all for the reviews!

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“Johnny, rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.

'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Devil deals the cards.

And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold,

But if you lose the devil gets your soul.”

-The Devil went down to Georgia

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Chapter 4: Kill or be killed

Charlotte’s body grew numb with terror, staring back into those soulless black eyes. She had to do something. Say something. Appeal to his better nature—anything. What had papyrus called him again?

“S-Sanss…” she managed to croak. The skeleton brushed a lock of hair from her face and put a finger to his teeth in a ‘shh’ gesture. He snapped his fingers.  Blue light seemed to dance around them, casting frightening shadows on the walls. His left eye began to glow with blue light. A glowing blue iris trained on her chest. He took a step backwards and made a beckoning motion with his pointer finger.

Tugging. Something tugged in her chest, like an invisible fishing line had latched onto he. r heart and was now intent on yanking it out of her chest. She drew in a sharp gasp. It tugged, and tugged until…

Green. Green light began pouring from her chest. Suddenly she felt exposed. Vulnerable. It was like that summer where she fell asleep by the pool and got sunburnt so badly that it ached. Every time her skin so much as brushed up against anything, It sent waves of pain through her body. Charlotte felt raw. Naked. Fragile… Then she saw something floating in the center of the glow. A little emerald valentine heart the size of her palm. It pulsed, and she realized that it did so in sync with her own heartbeats.

They say that monsters can rip a person’s soul right from their chests.

Their souls….

Bollocks.

Suddenly the lights flashed. Briefly, like a hiccup. Then slowly the room grew lighter again. Charlotte tried and failed to slow her breathing, but her heart was bouncing off her ribs like a pinball. She chanced a glance at sans. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His eye sockets were wide and staring, fat beads of sweat forming on his skull. He was frowning, so deeply. So…confusedly? Then he drew closer again reaching out a hand. Charlotte flinched—he was close enough to grab her soul. Close enough to—

The skeleton’s hand hovered just a few inches shy of her soul. He was squinting at it, frown growing more pronounced. He stared at the soul, so deeply that his gaze was almost a physical sensation unto itself. Charlotte felt fresh tears sear her cheeks. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Suddenly The skeleton’s eyes shot up to meet hers. The blue glow was gone from them, replaced with the familiar white dots of light. And Charlotte realized that the animosity she’d felt earlier had dissipated. All his rage had gone stale. Now he just stared at her, looking lost. Like he was seeing her for the very first time. His hand began to tremble.  The little green heart fluttered out from between his fingertips, and back into her chest. He didn’t even attempt to stop it from slipping away.

Suddenly whatever held Charlotte in place vanished, and she drew in a deep gasping breath, letting herself slide down along the wall onto her knees. She coughed deeply, massaging her throat. The skeleton stared. He took a few stumbling steps backwards. A comforting calm wrapped around her like a blanket, and her eyes were drawn back to the shears on the table.

Pick it up. While you still can.

Her shaky hands moved automatically towards the scissor blade. Trustingly. She picked them up and her hands stopped shaking. Her eyes darted to sans who was staring at his own shaking hands. This…wasn’t real…A sharp stab of anger flashed over her. Anger…? The calmness wrapped itself around her heart. Seeming to coo and whisper sweetly in her ear.

Cut him.

C-cut him…?

“HUMAN! GOOD NEWS!”  Papyrus’ voice echoed through her like a splash of cold water in the face. The calmness flickered out like a candle being snuffed. She dropped the blade, eyes flashing towards familiar figure in the doorway. Relief. “UNDYNE DID NOT HAVE ANY WIRE CUTTERS BUT DR ALPHYS WAS—“

Charlotte raced across the room. Sans fell back like a house of cards when she drew near but she blew right past him and threw herself at the taller skeleton. Her face pressed into the spot where his navel would’ve been, her arms wrapping around as much of him as she could reach. 

Papyrus’ wonderful innocence surrounded her. A short burst of surprise that melted into pure joy.

“WOWIE!” Papyrus gently swept the human off her feet and into his arms, hugging her to his chest like a teddy bear. “HUMAN I APOLIGIZE! I DID NOT REALIZE YOU WOULD MISS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SO MUCH  IN MY ABSENSE.” He squeezed her tighter, squinting his eye sockets shut. “YOU—EH…?HUMAN? WHY ARE YOU SHAKING?” Charlotte felt sans turn to stone from across the room. “ARE YOU GETTING SICK? DID- DID THAT CUT CAUSE YOU TO BECOME ILL?” She shook her head slowly and snuck a peek in sans’ direction.

He looked like a deflated balloon. All of the terrifying emotion from before was gone as if it had never been there to begin with. In its place stood… well, sans. Or rather, what charlotte expected Sans was really like. In the light, his face looked far less sinister. Round, almost cartoonish. He was giving her a look that could only be described as sheepish. The human shook her head.

 Okay. Okay...This is the sketchy part of town. The skeleton had walked in to find a blood-stained stranger alone and looking through his private files in a room that was supposed to be locked. Not only that but she was human.  Charlotte took a deep breath. What did that make her in his eyes? A burglar? She tried to imagine what her reaction would be if she came home to a strange blood covered monster in her house. Maybe his freak out wasn’t as unreasonable as she’d thought.

“Its…its nothing…”Charlotte said, rubbing her red-rimmed eyes on her sleeves. “Its just…allergies…”

San’s eyes locked on hers and Charlotte thought she saw a hint of surprise. Papyrus hummed.

“AH WELL, ANYWAY. HUMAN! MEET MY LAZYBONES BROTHER SANS.” He introduced. “NO DOUBT HE’S BEEN ASSAULTING YOU WITH BAD PUNS SINCE HE GOT HOME. ITS BEST TO JUST IGNORE HIM.” Charlotte forced a nervous smile.

“Hi sans…” Charlotte said. Sans looked her up and down. Then snorted.

“Sup kiddo” he turned to papyrus. “So, Where’d ya find this dirty, little bitch bro?”  

What?! Charlotte flushed an indignant squeak escaping her lips. Sans patted a hand on top of the dog’s head and it nipped at him.

“OH, HE WAS HURT, SO WE BROUGHT HIM INSIDE.” Papyrus hummed. “THE HUMAN AND I ARE RESCUING HIM.”

Charlotte blinked between them. Had he really just…?

“It’s a ‘she’ actually.” Sans caught charlotte’s gaze and winked. Oh. He did…. First he acts like he wants to kill her, then he seems confused and sorry, now he’s teasing her like their old pals? What was this? Was he being cold? Or was he trying to dissolve the tension from before? Bollocks this guy’s  mood swings were going to give her whiplash. “Anyways, that’s cool bro, the mutt looks a little dog-eared to me.”

“SAAANS!” Papyrus let out a whine, but he didn’t seem genuinely displeased. Sans sauntered closer grinning at Charlotte.

“But anyway, where did you find this human bro?”

“I FOUND HER IN THE TRASH!” Papyrus declared giving charlotte another squeeze. Charlotte reddened reminded of their uncomfortable run in in the alleyway. She suddenly realized that the skeleton had been carrying her around in his arms this entire altercation. Awkward…

“Eh, not too surprising, this neighborhood is practically a garbage dump litter-ally!” Sans laughed. Not the deep raspy, sinister chuckle from before—charlotte tried to push that memory from her thoughts—but it was a rich, mellow sort of sound. Warm. Friendly.

Insincere 

Charlotte pinched her temples. What was wrong with her today? In a bid to preserve whatever dignity she had, charlotte slipped down from the skeleton’s arms and dusted herself off.

“So um, you said you found the wire cutters?”

“OH YES! I WENT TO UNDYNE TO BORROW SOME BUT SHE DIDN’T HAVE ANY. BUT SHE REMEMERED SEEING SOME IN ALYPHS’ LAB, SO WE HAD TO HEAD ACROSS TOWN TO PICK THEM UP. I AM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET BACK. I HOPE I DID NOT LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR TOO LONG.”

Charlotte shook her head quickly.

“no no, its fine. Sans and I were just uh,” she sneaked a peek at san’s face but his expression was unreadable—“Getting acquainted.”

“Yeah.” Sans mused, putting his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. “Welp I’ll leave you to it. I’d love to stay and chat but I haven’t wheelie-bin paying attention.”

Oh bollocks. She was never going to live down that garbage thing was she?

“SAAANS!”

“See ya kid. Hope this numskull doesn’t waste too much of your time.” With a wink Sans slipped out the door and headed to his room.  Charlotte watched him go, more confused about the punny skeleton than ever.

“HE’S NOT SUCH A BAD GUY,” Papyrus sighed suddenly. Charlotte jumped. Oh bollocks. Had he read her mind? Could monsters even— “HIS JOKES ARE TERRIBLE, AND HE NEVER LIFTS SO MUCH AS A FINGER WHEN IT COMES TO HOUSEWORK.  HONESTLY SOMETIMES I WONDER WHAT HE’D DO IF HE DIDN’T HAE SUCH A GREAT BROTHER LOOKING OUT FOR HIM.” He patted her shoulder. “BUT HE’S GREAT IN HIS OWN WAY. TRUST ME.” Charlotte regarded the grinning monster, head tilted. He was always smiling. Was he really so oblivious to what was happening? Or did he simply choose to ignore it? She forced a grin and patted his good hand.

“Sure papyrus. Uh, lets get this pooch taken care of hm?” The two of them set to work cutting through the wires on the dog’s neck.

“THERE! YOU’RE FREE DOGGIE! FREE!” Papyrus declared waving his arms over his head dramatically. The dog opened its eyes, gave her tail a feeble shake and closed hem again. Charlotte didn’t blame her. The dog had been frothing at the mouth when sans had come raging in. She had calmed down considerably since sans had left. The moment he was gone, the dog slumped down in exhaustion. Charlotte could definitely relate to that feeling.

“I think she’s still a little tired Pap.” Charlotte mused. The skeleton seemed to sag at this.  Charlotte bumped his arm with her own and smiled. “Hows about we draw this doggie a bath while you think of a name for her? Hm?” That was all it took. Papyrus had the dog in his arms and went bounding off into the hall, clamoring excitedly about getting to  use his bubblegum  scented bubble-bath and wondering which action figure the doggie would like to play with in the tub. Charlotte felt a more genuine smile taking root. He was just like a child. It took so little to make him happy. Physical contact. A little smile. Then he lights up like a firefly. Charlotte found she rather liked making him happy. She stepped out of the lab to follow him. Then stopped. Sans room was right across the hall. Door closed. She could see lights moving around underneath the door.

She should say something to him. They hadn’t had a chance to talk privately about what had happened…before. She should clear the air. Maybe apologize? Even if it wasn’t entirely her fault, charlotte had always found that apologizing for a bad encounter had a way of smoothing things over. She needed to settle things. Charlotte made a move towards the door but a sudden thought stopped her.

Take it with you.

She blinked, eyes drifting back to the scissor blade she’d dropped. A chill ran down her spine. It was a misunderstanding. I don’t need it. But the uneasy feeling didn’t go away. Steeling herself Charlotte forced herself to march over and knock on sans’ door. There was a pause. Then the door swung open.

Charlotte took an involuntary step back. Gone was the plastered smile from before. It was just the two of them. He frowned down at her, expression unreadable.

“Yeah?”

Charlotte bit her lip, trying to steady her heart.

“Eh… Hi sans.. I just wanted to um…” She shifted, lowering her eyes, unable to keep the haunting face from before out of her head. Just look down. Breathe.  It was easier to talk to her feet than him. “I just wanted to apologize..”

The skeleton grunted and she could feel him draw back slightly. She sucked in a breath and continued.

“I’m sorry if I…startled you before… It must’ve been heh, creepy to find a stranger in your house. I…I understand…” she shifted sneaking a peek at his face.  He just stared at her, as If he’d never seen anything like her before. “A-and I’m sorry for looking at your stuff. Papyrus had been gone for awhile. I guess I was just curious…but that was rude too huh?” she forced a hollow laugh and conked her knuckles to her skull playfully. “Duh…heh...heh…”

Silence. His eyes were on her again, roving over her face, searching for…something. He then let out a tired chuckle, posture growing less tense.

“heh, you really rattled my bones kiddo…”

“Yeah…I was um… hoping we could start over?”

 It took him a lot longer to answer that one. The silence hung long enough for charlotte to feel a bit queasy. Then he chuckled and put out a hand.

“Sure kiddo. Names’ Sans. Sans the skeleton.”

Charlotte felt her stomach do a little somersault and she smiled. Hopeful again.  I told you I wouldn’t need it. She thought to…no one. She didn’t know why, but she felt as though was proving something to herself. That she could still trust. That she didn’t need to be afraid. She didn’t remember taking the scissor half from the skeleton brothers house. But there it was in her pocket when she finally reached work. Later, when it got dark outside she would wonder about it. But right now...She didn’t notice the way San’s smile froze when she took his hand and shook it. She didn’t notice a lot of things. But they happened.

“Names’ Sans. Sans the skeleton.”

“Its really nice to finally meet you sans”

“ And you’re name was… ‘Charlotte—something’ right?”

“mhmm. But most people just call me Chara.”

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DUN DUN DUUUUUUN!

Anyways, another cliffhanger guys.

I hope you’re enjoying this garbage as much as I enjoy writing it.

Let me know what you think and what your predictions are for the next chapter. Your comments give me liiiiife.

;)

Also:

I have to name this dog now… Any ideas?

It’s a pug- shitzu mix. Kinda wall-eyed. Its fur is off white. It doesn’t seem to like sans.

Give me some ideas guys.

Also…..

“Where did you find this human bro?”

“I FOUND IT IN THE TRASH!”

This pretty much sums up 90% of the undertale fandom in my opinion.

Feel free to visit my trashcan anytime bros.

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE 1: Sans

Her soul was green. Not greenish yellow. Not teal. But honest to goodness, genuine green. That was rare in in of itself. Green; the color of healing magic. Of empathy. Of kindness.  Breathe. Just breathe…

Empathy, Kindness and healing…heh… the exact opposite of—

Sans buried his skull in his hands. He must be losing his mind. After all he’d been through, was it really so suprising that he’d eventually break? He’d lived through too many resets, cried over papyrus’ dust until his emotions ran dry. Killed her too many time…

Green. He reminded himself again.

He steadied his breathing. Focus. There were more differences than just the color weren’t there? They were older—that much was clear. And the hair was longer, darker, less ruddy than he remembered. But those eyes…Sans suppressed another surge of venom. They had the same damn eyes!

Large and childlike with long dark lashes. All soft angles. And the color—there was no mistaking it—so dark and doe-like, with a glint of something else…something the color of human blood. The color of Determination.

Breathe. No more resets. No more resets. The kid promised him before they…before they— Just breathe….hell...just keep breathing...

For the tenth time, sans looked over the stats he’d jotted down after their encounter. He had them memorized by now, but he needed to see them again…

Name: CHARA

LV: none

EXP: none

That much should have been enough for him to see. For him to realize.

HP: 40

A bit on the low side compared to most of the adult human’s he’d encountered. Ridiculously low for her.  But by monster standards, pretty good.

But then there was the defense. Holy shit that had hit him like being hit by a train....

DEFENSE: 0

How the hell was that even possible? To be so utterly defenseless? Sans knew he wasn’t one to talk, but he at least 1 defense. Even whimsum had greater defense than that. Even…

That stupid kid… She sought him out alone. Even after… Sans felt sick.  He could’ve… He almost…

Was she really that dense? Why on earth would she seek him out after what he did?!  Did she really not realize how close he’d been to ending her where she stood? He’d done it so much…so many times…If he hadn’t pulled her soul… if he hadn’t noticed…

No LV…

No EXP…

No DEFENSE…

Sans knew himself enough to know that he wouldnt’ve have held back. And without even thinking murdered a tiny friggin innocent little—

Sans’ fists clenched. Just how the hell did someone like that survive anyway? In a world like this one? She’d sought him out alone… Fuck. She was waaay to weak to be so trusting. Too fragile to put her lives in the hands of someone…someone like him.

Green soul. Kind soul. That was a rarity among humans. He should have known the moment she turned around. The moment her eyes filled with fear. The fear he’d sent roaring into her. She…never showed that kind of weakness. Ever. She was always in perfect control of her emotions. Always calm. Emotionless. Cold. Determined.

Humans didn’t come with as much variety as he was used to. They were almost always about the same. Two arms, two eyes. A nose below that. A mouth. Hair in a variety of colors… Of course.

Heh. That was kinda racisist wasn’t it? Well paint me bigoted.

Sans didn’t laugh at his own joke. he closed his eyes. Of course some of them would start to look the same to him. It was just a coincidence. Of course…She was dead. Frisk was dead. No more determination. She-Chara was dead.  She was never, ever coming back.

“SAAANS! LOOK! THE HUMAN GAVE ME HER PHONE NUMBER!”

“That’s great bro.”

“I THINK SHE REALLY LIKES ME! DID YOU SEE THE WAY SHE HUGGED ME? SO CUUUUTE! I KNEW WE WERE DESTINED TO BE BESTEST FRIENDS!”

“Heh. Could be a fluke. You sure she was really trying to hug hyu-man?”

“NOT EVEN YOUR RIDICULOUS PUNS CAN SPOIL MY MOOD! SHE LIKES ME! SHE REALLY LIKES ME! FOR A SECOND THERE I WAS BEGINNING TO THINK THAT SHE WAS….WELL NEVERMIND! ITS NOT IMPORTANT ANYMORE! NOTHING MATTERS NO MORE! OH! HERE!” papyrus shoved his phone into san’s hands. “ COPY DOWN HER NUMBER INTO YOUR PHONE! IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO CORRUPT THE HUMAN WITH YOUR RIDICULOUS PUNS, THEN I THINK YOU SHOULD SPEND TIME WITH HER TOO!”

Contact info:

Address: 345 blackwood st.

Number: xxx-xxxx-xxx

Contact name: CHARA

“yeah bro…” Sans grinned terribly. he copied down her number and address. “I’m sure I’ll be spending a lot of time with your new friend…”

 WELCOME TO THE PLOT KIDDIES...

BUCKLE UP.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: My universe will never be the same

Charlotte let out a sigh of relief when she saw Daphne—the night manager behind the counter instead of her usual manager Trish. That was a surprise. Daphne was a student at the university, working through an art degree, so she worked most nights and rarely stuck around this late in the day. Charlotte wondered where she found the time to go to school and still put in 40 hours a week at the shelter. Did she ever sleep? Judging from her appearance charlotte suspected that she didn’t.

Daphne dressed for comfort. Always in oversized clothing and beanies. Her short, choppy hair had been blonde once. The pretty golden blonde that most women would kill for. The moment she’d turned 21 however she dyed the whole thing green with lime Kool-Aid. It was starting to fade out again near the tips. She wore dark circles beneath her blue eyes—which were always half-massed in a tired, disinterested sort of scowl. She wasn’t unfriendly per se. Just uninterested. Daphne was sitting at the front desk reading a magazine. Her dirty VANS propped lazily up on the counter.

“Yo.” Daphne grunted when charlotte passed her desk.

“Sorry I’m late, a bunch of stuff happened this morning” Charlotte apologized. She steeled herself for a reprimand but Daphne merely shrugged and turned back to her magazine. And that was it. No questions. No lectures. Just a shrug. But that wasn’t anything new. Daphne rarely got after anyone for anything. She never raised her voice or complained about things not getting done on time. Whenever their volunteer Annie, left the kennels uncleaned (which was nearly every weekend) Daphne would just wander over and do it for her. Charlotte wondered if Daphne had stayed so long after her shift to cover for her being late. She sagged with guilt.

“I really am sorry…” Charlotte said. “It was work related…well sort of, there was this dog and—“

“Don’t worry about it babe” Daphne grunted, with what charlotte took for amusement. “Her majesty, the Ice Queen of Narnia isn’t coming in till noon today. You’re fine.”
Charlotte’s face flushed. Ice Queen. That was Daphne’s name for Trish the day manager. And it wasn’t too far from the mark… Trish ruled the shelter with an iron fist. She was always ready with a lecture and a frown if she found anyone slacking. She was a shrewd woman in her early thirties. To be frank, she was more or less a tall, dark haired scowl in pink scrubs.

“Is she sick or something?” Charlotte asked, hanging up her coat.

“Naw. Jury Duty.”

“Bummer…”

“Yup…” Daphne set the magazine aside and paid Charlotte a lazy glance. “Well?”
Charlotte blinked shoulders coming up.

“Well what?”

“You said you were late because of a dog, yeah?” Daphne grunted rubbing her eye on the back of her hand.

“Right! Right, uh well she was a toy breed mutt, roughly two years old. she had some wounds around the neck and a helluva lot of fleas. Probably mange too. I didn’t have my car with me so I left her with the guy who rescued her.” Charlotte explained. Daphne nodded slowly, eyes shut. She took a long drink from a Starbucks cup then stood.

“Kay. So are we going to pick her up or is this dude going to bring her by the shelter?” Daphne asked.

“um…” Charlotte blinked. She hadn’t known if the van was there or if Dave Allard—the shelter’s vet—was even in, so she told papyrus she’d call him once she got to work and they could discuss their options. He’d seemed reluctant to let the dog out of his sight though. She dug her phone out.

“Probably, I promised I’d call him once I got here, hang on,” Charlotte dialed up papyrus’ number. She was about to press send when she froze.

Oh.. right… Papyrus was a monster… Monsters didn’t come around this part of town. Charlotte blinked shaking herself. How had she forgotten? It hadn’t seemed like an issue when she’d discussed it with him. But now…She bit her lip and glanced at Daphne who was slipping on her oversized coat.

Would Daphne be willing to drive out with her to the monster side of town? What would she think about Charlotte leaving the dog with a monster? And what about Papyrus? He was already enamored with the little fuzz ball. If they ended up bringing her to the shelter, would papyrus even be allowed to stop by and see her?

Charlotte pinched her temples. Dave…She knew Dave did house calls when it was absolutely necessary. He was a nice enough guy and seemed to care an awful lot about animals. But.... would he really be comfortable working at a the skeleton’s house? How did her co-workers even feel about monsters living so close? How did she feel for that matter?

Charlotte sank into a chair, phone lowering. She didn’t know. She’d never thought about it before. Never had to think about it before. To her it felt like having papyrus over at the shelter didn’t feel like a big deal at all. He was safe to be around—harmless. A total cinnamon bun. He wasn’t like other monsters.

And you’ve met enough monsters to make that distinction have you?

Something in her brain seemed to sneer and Charlotte stiffened. This was…

Why had she never thought about this before? She’d never questioned why things were the way they were before. It had always just…made sense. Yes, that’s right. It made sense to keep the monsters separated. They hated human right? They ate people’s souls, wielded powerful magic that humans could only begin to understand. They were different, alien, other. They were dangerous…

weren’t they?

He isn't. Charlotte reminded herself. Papyrus was nothing like how people on the news described monsters. He didn’t seem angry about being imprisoned in Ebbot for so long, nor did he appear to wish humanity any ill will. He was…well, friendly. He’d been kind and welcoming right from the beginning. Gentle. Thoughtful.

Charlotte rubbed her temples. If it had just been Papyrus. If Papyrus had been the only monster to come out from ebbot. If he’d been the only one humanity was so keen on keeping away, then Charlotte would have thought this whole separation business was ridiculous. But wasn’t that just because she knew him? When she’d first seen him she’d been terrified. She’d wanted to keep him as far away from her as possible. But now…

Now the idea of someone—anyone being afraid of him left a bad taste in her mouth. It was wrong. It would—oh bollocks—it would hurt his feelings, wouldn’t it? Papyrus was too innocent. Too kind for that sort of treatment. The more Charlotte thought about it the more sick she began to feel. The thought of someone hating him, of barring him entrance into their store, or library—of them avoiding his eyes, of treating him like he was some sort of monst-

Oh…

Oh Bollocks…

“You okay babe?” Daphne grunted. “You kinda went quiet there for a minute.”

Charlotte didn’t reply. Something was breaking—shattering to bits somewhere deep inside of her. Everything was different now… wasn’t it? When had the world changed so much? When had she changed? Charlotte wanted to stop her world from shifting, wanted to reach out and hold onto the way things were for just a little longer. She wanted to be ignorant. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to be blameless…

But…

…But…

…But…

That’s selfish. Isn’t it greenie?

This morning everything was fine. The monsters were far away. They didn’t live where she lived. Didn’t shop where she shopped. They didn’t have names. They didn’t have warm voices and kind eyes. They didn’t tell the worst jokes or give the best best hugs. They weren’t people.

And now that they were; now that she knew.

Things weren’t okay anymore.

“Earth to Chara,” Daphne conked Charlotte on the head with her sketchbook. “You having a seizure or somethin?” Charlotte shook her head slowly. “Heh. That’s a relief. The only medical no-how I’ve got is docking ears, tails and neutering shit. An’ somehow I don’t think that’d help.” Charlotte felt something slug her shoulder—Daphne’s closest approximation to affection she guessed. Charlotte took a deep breath and looked up at her manager. She let out a nervous laugh.

“Hey Daphne…so uh…how do you feel about monsters?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Patient Soul

Daphne Job was not the type of person who got rattled easy.

A few months earlier—when charlotte and Daphne were little more than strangers—some local scrap metal yard went under. Several of the company’s guard dogs ended up at the shelter. They weren’t bad dogs really. Heck, Charlotte thought they were the smartest, most obedient dogs she’d ever worked with.. Brady—a brawny Doberman sat up perfectly still on the examination table while Charlotte removed his microchips. She was In the middle of doing this when…it happened. Charlotte heard the backdoor open and Annie came in leading another Doberman with a loop pole.

In Annie’s defense, she was only 15 years old at the time and had been volunteering with the shelter for less than a month. She couldn’t have known what would happen.

With a crash and a flurry of snarls the examination table toppled over and Brady charged the other dog before Charlotte could even make a sound. In an instant the two animals connected in a clash of teeth. Then came the confusion. Snarling. Fighting. Ripping. Annie was the first to let out a scream. She tugged on the pole trying to pull the enraged dog back. But with all the jerking and thrashing, it was all the poor girl could do to keep ahold of it. Charlotte ran for a spray can and doused the dogs with water. They hardly seemed to notice they were so enraged. Panicking now charlotte ran into the back room to fill up a water bucket. But then out of the clear blue she heard a yip and a scream from Annie.

Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. Was all her frantic brain could manage. They bit someone. They bit someone! But when she turned the corner she found…Daphne.

Daphne grabbed Brady by the scruff and wrenched him away from the other dog—effectively separating the two animals. In an instant she had pinned Brady on his back. Her legs straddled his sides to keep him in place. She had some kind of hold on the dog’s neck and seemed to be using all of her weight to keep his chomping, foaming head pinned to the ground. The other dog strained at the pole, still all teeth and growls, but Annie—bless her—had somehow managed to keep ahold of his pole, keeping him out of mauling distance from Daphne and Brady. Brady thrashed and foamed, white visible all around his wild eyes, and Daphne seemed to be having trouble keeping him down.

“Put him in the kennel.” Daphne grunted. She didn’t raise her voice, But Annie and charlotte flinched and stumbled to obey as if she had. Working together they heaved the dog back towards its cage. All the while Charlotte heaved with terror. The dog grappled with this pole still trying to get at Brady, but they had a good 6 feet of pole separating them from his jaws. Daphne had nothing.

Charlotte forced the animal into the kennel. She dug a tranquillizer from Dave’s desk and went charging back into the room.

Remarkably, Daphne had kept her position atop the enraged dog and somehow managed to keep him pinned to the ground with all ten fingers intact. And even more amazingly, she had managed to get a muzzle onto his face. Charlotte fumbled with the tranc, but Daphne raised a hand.

“He can’t bite. Don’t waste it.” she grunted. “Just wait.”

That was easier said than done, Charlotte hovered over the scene. But Daphne just kept her position holding the dog down, waiting. Completely calm. After what seemed like ages the dog let out a tired snort and calmed, its glossy black fur shining with sweat. Daphne then scratched his ears and stood up, clipping a leash onto his collar.

“Hey. He get ya?” Daphne grunted. Her impassive voice taking on a slight edge. “The dogs. They bite either of you?”

“N-no..” Charlotte breathed. Annie, who was shaking from her toes to the end of her little blonde braids shook her head. Daphne’s shoulders relaxed.

“Good.” She grunted lugging Brady towards his cag. “Means we don’t have to put either of em down…”

To say that Daphne’s performance caused a stir around the shelter would be an understatement. Dave was positively scandalized when he heard about what happened, and he scoured all three of them for injuries. Annie was considerably rattled, and she took some time off from her volunteer work. It would be weeks before she could go near Brady’s kennel again. But no one took the news with more alarm than Trish—the day manager.

For more than a quarter of an hour, she ranted and yelled at Daphne for being reckless and stupid. At times her voice grew so shrill and loud that some of the dogs began to howl.

Charlotte didn’t much like Trish at the best of times, but listening to her rave and lecture Daphne just rubbed her the wrong way. Trish and Daphne were both managers. Trish didn’t have any right to boss her around like she did with Charlotte and Annie. But true to form Daphne didn’t seem to care one way or another and just stood there and listened. Her eyes half-mast as if she was ready to fall asleep in spite of the screeching.

It wasn’t until later when Charlotte was mopping out the kennels with Daphne that she worked up the courage to say something.

“How did you do that?” Charlotte muttered. Daphne grunted.

“Eh. I used to work at a Doberman kennel back home. Some of those dogs can get a little loco.”

“But you just…grabbed him…What if he’d bitten you?”

“Sometimes when they start seein’ red like that, spray bottles don’t cut it. When they fight like that—it’s not something you can just ignore. Dogs like that will fight until they kill each other.”

Charlotte considered this. But decided to let the matter drop. They worked in silence for a good while. When Charlotte went to fill up the mop bucket Daphne called her back.

“Hey. Chara.” Daphne grunted causing Charlotte to pause. “What I did back there was real stupid. Don’t you ever try something like that yourself. Ever. Ya hear?”

Charlotte nodded.

Daphne wasn’t the type to get rattled easy. She was probably the bravest person Charlotte had ever met. But it was more than just bravery. She never raised her voice, never got irritated with anyone. She sat there and listened to Trish verbally rip her a new one without so much as a word. Charlotte wasn’t sure she could have stayed so calm with the ice queen breathing down her neck like that. How did Daphne do it? No matter what happened, Daphne was always filled with Patience.

******

“So Daphne, what do you think of monsters?”

Charlotte felt more than a little anxious asking. And she watched Daphne’s face. Looking for some kind of reaction. A scowl of disgust, a frown—anything. But Daphne just glanced at Charlotte and blinked slowly in that ‘too tired to care’ way of hers. Charlotte played with the hem of her shirt as Daphne looked her up and down.

“They’re big” Daphne grunted.

“Big…?”

“Yeah. Like friggin huge.” Again Daphne shrugged. Charlotte studied her, sucking in her cheeks. That’s one hell of a poker face…

“And…? What else do you think of them?” she pressed Daphne turned her body till it was facing Charlotte.

“Some of em look like furries” Daphne nodded. “And others look like they belong on the cover of a meatloaf album.” A smirk ghosted across Daphne’s face and Charlotte huffed.

“Anything else…?”

“My mom and dad think they’re a sign of some biblical apocalypse thing. All fire n’ brimstone.” Daphne mused. “Started filling our storm cellar with water and  MRE’s  like it’s the friggin cold war.”

“I’m serious Daphne.” Charlotte groaned.

“Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?” Daphne grunted impassive as usual. Charlotte started backpedaling

“uh…”

BIIIIING! Charlotte’s phone buzzed cutting her off. saved by the bell. Charlotte fumbled to get it out, thankful for the distraction. She answered without even glancing at the id.

“Hello?”

“HUMAN! IT IS I THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” The voice came out so loud that charlotte jumped and drew the phone away from her ear. She cast a mortified glance towards Daphne. The green haired girl raised a brow. “ I KNOW THAT WE AGREED THAT YOU WOULD CALL ME WHEN YOU REACHED YOUR PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT, BUT I HAVE WONDERFUL NEWS! I HAVE FINALLY DECIDED ON A NAME FOR THE DOGGIE!”

Charlotte rubbed her temples. “That’s really great Pap—“

“OH OH! PERFECT! HUMAN, SANS HAS JUST ARRIVED HOME FROM WORK, LET ME PUT YOU ON SPEAKER PHONE.” There was a shuffling sound then a click. “IT’S THE HUMAN, SAY HI SANS.” The

“Hi Sans.” smaller skeleton’s deep voice rumbled in the background. Papyrus made a noise.

“SANS NO JOKES!” Papyrus groaned.

“Okay. so sans no Sans jokes is…” Sans hummed thoughtfully. “You’re saying you want me to make more jokes? I’m not too good with the whole double negative thing.”

“YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE!”

“I thought I was sans?”

“So um, papyrus..” Charlotte interjected before the tall skeleton could spiral into another wave of bickering. “What did you decide to name the dog?”

“AH YES! I HAVE FOUND A TITLE TRULY BEFITTING OF HER GREATNESS.” Papyrus declared, instantly forgetting his squabble with sans. “I HAVE DECIDED TO NAME HER DOGGIE. WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

Charlotte squinted. Daphne who seemed to catch every other word thanks to papyrus’ volume paid her a measuring look.

“Doggie… Gee paps, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little strange?”

“STRANGE?”

“You know, naming a dog ‘doggie’.”

“I DON’T FOLLOW.”

“I don’t know. It’s just, not really a name.” Charlotte tried to explain. “I mean you’re just calling her what she is, right? Isn’t that’s like calling a human ‘human’? I—wait…”

Oh…

Sans laugher roared in the background. Charlotte folded her arms self-consciously, well aware of Daphne’s eyes on her. Bollocks. She had only known sans for a few hours, but it still seemed like he laughed the hardest when she—herself was the punchline.

“SANS! GET UP OFF THE FLOOR AND STOP LAUGHING! I CAN’T HEAR THE HUMAN!—SORRY HUMAN, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?”

“Nothing pap. I think Doggie’s a perfect name. Very…fitting.” Charlotte said hurriedly trying to pat the blush from her cheeks. Sans, though he’d quieted a bit, made no attempts to stifle his laugher. She cleared her throat.

“So uh, speaking of Doggie, I’m just waiting on the resident Vet to come into work so we’ll know what our options are. You’ll probably need to come drop Doggie off at the shelter.” Charlotte explained.

Sans stopped laughing abruptly.

“Not a good idea.” He grunted. “See if you can get the Doc to make a house call over here or somethin”

Charlotte shifted. Dave probably wouldn’t go for that…

“Oh, eh maybe… but would it be y’know…safe..?” Charlotte cringed at how awkward that sounded. “…for y’know…people like us..?”

Sans chuckled. Not his ‘I just made a joke’ laugh. Not his ‘poking fun at Chara’ laugh either. This one was humorless. Deep. Cold.

“Kiddie…we’ve got more to worry about on your streets.” He chuckled darkly. “Trust me on that…”

Charlotte felt a cold finger of chills trace down her spine.

“I WOULD LOVE TO MEET YOUR DOCTOR FRIEND HUMAN” Papyrus threw in. “YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS ARE WELCOME TO OUR HOME ANYTIME.”

“Thanks paps…” Charlotte took a deep breath. “Listen I’ll text you once I know what’s going on. Take good care of Doggie in the meantime okay?”

“YOU CAN COUNT ON ME!” papyrus declared, seemingly giddy with joy. Charlotte smiled weakly.

“Talk to you later?”

“OKAY! BYE BYE SMALL HUMAN!”

“Bye…”

Click.

Charlotte slipped the phone back into her pocket. Daphne was leaning against the wall, looking tired as always. Charlotte twiddled her thumbs. Bollocks. How she was even supposed to begin to explain all that?

“So…” Daphne began.

“So…”  Charlotte repeated rocking on her heels. Daphne quirked a brow, looking charlotte up and down.

then she snorted.

“So. what kind of monsters are they, these friends of yours?” Daphne asked . “Meatloaf or Furry?”

Charlotte felt the tension leave her body.

“Meatloaf…” She said shyly. Daphne grunted again, her smirk returning. She headed back to her desk.

“ friggin sick.”

*******************************************************************8888

So, here's what we know so far...

dunno. Pictures help me keep it all straight. ;)

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Snared

“What on earth were you thinking Miss Charlotte? Is this some kind of joke?”

To his credit—Dave didn’t yell, per se. The Doc scarcely had the heart to raise his voice to an animal, let alone an employee. Rather he just sort of huffed his disapprobation like a tank engine, puffing out his words as he paced back and forth, pausing ever so often to glance at Charlotte, and gesture wildly.

“We can’t have those things hanging around here!” He huffed. “We don’t need people saying things…”

Charlotte bowed her head nervously, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She’d known that Dave wouldn’t be too keen on catering to monsters. Yesterday she would have said the same thing. But… She hadn’t expected her boss’ vehement disapproval to sting as much as it did.

“Maybe I could…” she trailed off in a small voice. Dave was already shaking his head no. “I know where they live and all… we could just m-make a house call. Nobody would have to know about it. They just want to help the dog. They’re not going to do anything bad…”

“Chara…” Dave ran a hand through his messy black hair. His initial anger now spent. He looked tired. Older somehow, like stress had lined his face long before its time. He sank into the chair across from hers and slapped a newspaper down on the desk before her. “They found that girl last night.”

“Girl?”

“That college kid from north Ebbot. The one who went missing a few weeks back. They found her body last night in a dumpster behind some monster bar. All torn to pieces.” Dave massaged his temples. “I know that most kids your age don’t often read the morning paper. But maybe you should have a look…”

Charlotte stared numbly down at the article. It wasn’t like she lived in a bubble. She’d seen the news reports on TV about young people in town going missing. Heard the whispers in the subways and on the streets, rumors of monster involvement. Talk of foul play. Charlotte looked away. Dave let out a long sigh.

“Apparently the kid was so mutilated that they had to run the dental records to prove that it was even human.” Dave put his hands on his hips. Charlotte tasted hot bile in the back of her throat. “And you wanna invite those creatures here? Really Chara?”

“They’re not— papyrus is my friend.” Charlotte swore silently feeling the beginnings of hot tears forming in her eyes. Oh bollocks, she was terrible at this… “Just because some monsters may have—it doesn’t mean that he had anything to do with—listen, I know him okay? Papyrus isn’t like that. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Dave pinched his temples, letting out a low huffing sigh. Charlotte sniffled embarrassingly. She wiped the evidence on her sleeve. Then it came. That calm, buzzing feeling in her chest. It wasn’t a physical change. Just a feeling. Like someone had just stepped into the room while her back was turned. Charlotte glanced around but it was only her and Dave in the crampt little office.

Then came the words. Unmistakable. They formed so clearly in her mind that it was almost like a voice, whispering in her ear. Charlotte felt a chill at the words.

Lie.

Lie?

Tell Dave you’ve known the bone bag since he moved into the city.

“Just how long have you known this fellow Miss Charlotte?” Dave’s voice was distant. Charlotte could barely hear it over the pounding over own heart. The voice pressed on, becoming clearer with every new word.

If you want to have your way you’re going to have to bend the truth greenie. Simple as that.

Greenie…?

“Miss Charlotte are you listening to me?”

This…isn’t real…

You met a giant skeletal monster alone in a dark alleyway, four hours later you’re vouching for him like you’re old friends? The—whatever it was—seemed to scoff.  

I can’t lie to my boss…

“Chara…?”

Just what do you think Dave will think of that? You’re an idiot Greenie. And only an idiot would trust your judgement.

But I-

Can do this.

Charlotte felt sick to her stomach.

“Chara?”

Greenie

GREENIE!

W-what?!

He’s speaking to you.

“O-oh!” Charlotte stood abruptly, wincing at the sound of hearing her voice out loud. “S-sorry sir, what were you saying?” She put on a smile. Her hands shook.

Dave gave her a long hard look, brows knitted up with concern. He reached over and pulled the newspaper away, hiding it from view in his coat pocket.

“I’m sorry Miss Charlotte. I shouldn’t have said anything about that girl. You’re such a sensitive kindhearted young lady. I should have realized it would disturb you. Please forgive me.” He sighed. “I just don’t want to open the paper some morning and learn that they found you in a dumpster behind some seedy monster bar.” Dave sighed patting Charlotte’s shoulder in a fatherly sort of way.

“I-I won’t… Papyrus isn’t—he’s my friend”

“May be.” Dave nodded. “But Even if your friend is the exception, that neighborhood is bad news Chara. I can’t allow  you to put yourself in that kind of situation over a dog. Do you understand?

Charlotte nodded miserably, and wished she could shrink in on herself and disappear. Or melt into a puddle and sink down through the floorboards.  Dave nodded and rose, in a ‘that’s that’ sort of gesture. Charlotte felt stupid. She felt confused, embarrassed and wrong. She wanted to reason with Dave. To make him understand how…how wrong everything was. But the words never made it to her tongue. The calm feeling grew.

I can help.

Charlotte stiffened.

w-what..?

I can say what you can’t Greenie. Trust me.

W-who are you…?

You know…

I-I don’t understand.

You don’t have to right away. All you have to do is

L e t   m e   I n….

Dave leaned down to give Charlotte one more pat on the shoulder before turning away. He was leaving.

“Dave…” charlotte felt her lips moving, felt the air leave her mouth, felt her vocal chords tighten and contract as her tongue formed words. But that wasn’t her voice.

 “I’m sorry to have upset you. But what I said before still stands. Papyrus is harmless. If you don’t trust him I understand” Her voice was calm and level headed—hell it could have given Daphne a run for her money. It sounded confident, smooth—with just a taste of disappointment that caused Dave to pause and turn around. Pins and needles. The feeling came over Charlotte’s arm. And without her permission, her hand slid up and touched Dave’s shoulder, her eyes meeting his.  “..I But I hoped that after all the years we’ve worked together you could have at least trust ME, Dave.” A brief flicker of guilt behind Dave’s eyes. But before he could respond, Charlotte’s hand slid from his shoulder with a calm sigh.

“I understand perfectly if you do not want monsters hanging around here. And I don’t blame you for not wanting me to take this case. You’re just trying to be a good boss. I will respect your wishes and not use company time or resources to work on this case. However…” Charlotte looked down her nose at the man—something she had never ever done to anyone. Her head swam. But her voice came out smooth and calm. “What I do in my free time is my business. If you will not allow me to treat this animal during work then I will wait till I clock off. If I you do not want me to use the company truck, or medical supplies then I will respect that. I can always walk. Thank you for looking out for me sir. I won’t mention this again.”

She inclined her head and turned to leave. Dave stood frozen in place, mouth slightly open. Outwardly charlotte was calm and collected, but inside she was stammering like a broken record.  

What…was that…?

The voice in Charlotte’s head seemed to let out a low whistle and the pins and needle feeling faded.

“Wait…” A large hand fell onto her shoulder. Charlotte glanced back.

“I really can’t stop you can I?” Dave ran a hand through his messy hair, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast.  “I’ve never seen you this determined Chara. Heh. You’re just too good for this damn world aren’t cha kid?” he let out a deep sigh. “I’ll go pack up the van. We’ll head out as soon as Trish Clocks in.” Charlotte watched him shuffle off to get his medical bag. Somewhere deep inside, she could feel the presence smirking.

##############################

The next few hours of work were a blur. Charlotte kept herself as busy as possible, scrubbing out the kennels, feeding the animals. Charlotte was on her hands and knees scrubbing a black stain on the floor of one of the cages. The kennel was unnaturally quiet, all Charlotte could hear was the scriting of her brush against the sterile white tile.  She scrubbed until her hands felt raw and pruned. Don’t think about it. She repeated it like a mantra. It worked for a while. Between scrubbing and toting water, she could almost forget. Almost feel like nothing had changed at all. Then came the buzzing calm.

You’re not insane.

The mop bucket in charlotte’s hands clattered to the ground sloshing dirty water onto the fronts of her pants. Charlotte let out a tiny yip, her hands clapping down over her ears. It was back.

“What are you..?” She whispered to the open air.

Magic. It was accompanied by an electric sort of feeling that spread to the tips of her fingers and toes. She sucked in a breath at the familiarity. Where had she felt that before? Where…?

The memory of a dark room crashed over her like a bucket of freezing water. Electricity. Electricity in her bones. In the tips of her hair. She was a live wire. A terrible smile just a breath away from her face. A single, burning blue eye. Charlotte steadied her breathing at the memory. The memory of magic…

Recognition came first, then relief. Nothing about this made sense. But she knew she wasn’t insane. She could cling to that understanding like a lifeline. I’m not crazy…

Charlotte sank to her knees and began cleaning up the spilled water, scrubbing automatically—robotically as her brain groped to wrap around everything else. Magic…

Are you…Sans' Magic?  Charlotte thought to the voice. It seemed to stiffen at the mention of the skeletal monster.

I’m your magic. It corrected. Charlotte’s head came up.

Humans don’t have magic.

But they did once, didn’t they Greenie? Charlotte frowned. That was true wasn’t it? Humans were the ones who built the barrier weren’t they.

Humans had magic before the barrier. After it went up the magic bled dry, growing less and less powerful with each new generation until it was practically nonexistent. The voice hummed thoughtfully. Why do you think that is?

Charlotte shook her head.

Because we didn’t NEED it anymore. Humans only really need magic to protect themselves from monsters. No monsters, means no magic.

Charlotte squinted trying to make sense of it.

Think of magic like a normal part of your body. A muscle. If you never use it, eventually it will begin to atrophy.

This isn’t real… Charlotte groped for understanding. Just something solid to stand on.  

W-why me? Why is this happening now?

The voice-magic-thing hardened. Charlotte felt an inexplicable stab of loathing. The intensity surprised her.

That comedian…

Sans…?

You never needed me until that comedian came along. Until he decided to yank your soul out of your chest and leave you there wriggling and exposed like a snail out of its shell.

Charlotte shivered at the comparison.

He could have crushed you greenie. And you would have just sat there and let him.  The accusing tone made Charlotte shrink back. But lucky for you he knocked something loose. It’s about time you grew a backbone…

Charlotte pinched her eyes shut. It was right. Wasn’t it? She’d never had any Spidey sense. That’s what people said about her wasn’t it? That she was too naïve, too trusting to be allowed to make her own decisions? And they were right. Charlotte sank to her knees clenching and unclenching her fists against her wet pant legs. He’d attacked her… and she’d just stood there with her mouth hanging open as he ripped out her soul. Too stupid to survive…

It’s not your fault. Suddenly the voice was soft and comforting, like being wrapped up in a blanket straight out of the dryer. Charlotte sniffled. It’s okay. I’m here now.

And Charlotte trusted it. The voice had brought clarity. It urged her to action. It alerted her to dangers she wouldn’t have even considered. It did what she would have been too afraid to try, said what she couldn’t. It protected her. Could this…this thing really be what she’d been missing her entire life?

Charlotte squinted her eyes shut once again, breathing slowly. Searching. The voice was pulsing from her chest. Right next to her soul. But it was separate somehow. The presence had stayed with her even when San’s had pulled her soul. That tiny presence. Charlotte saw a glow of red flutter behind her eyelids. Then it was gone. She opened her eyes.

“T-thank you.” Charlotte whispered out loud. “I…I don’t understand exactly what happened. But you…you protected me didn’t you?”

Don’t think of us as separate people. I am a part of you. An instinct maybe—your common sense. If you acted on those instincts then it was your choice. Not anything I did.

Charlotte shook her head.

“N-no, I could never have talked like that to Dave. I-I’m not clever enough to—“a scoff—

Clearly you are.

Charlotte breathed out slowly looking at her raw pink hands. It was all so strange. She was just…Chara. Stupidly trusting, scatterbrained Chara. She was the girl who took the long way through monster territory because the subway crowds made her feel sick. She was the kid who couldn’t buy clothes second-hand because no matter how many times she washed them they still ‘felt’ like the previous owner. She was Chara—the sentimental simpleton who cried for over an hour after watching Toy story 3 for the first time. Sensitive, timid, trusting useless Chara.

But…

But.

That magic—this confusing thing that claimed it was a part of her—Strong. Calm. Charismatic. In control. Could something like that really have been inside of someone like her? She’d spent her whole life painfully aware of all the ways she wish she wasn’t.  She always wished she could be strong, clever, determined. But she knew she wasn’t. The presence caressed her soul, running down its length like stroking a kitten.

I’m you…If you think that I am strong, and clever and determined, Greenie. Then you must be too.

A tear bit Charlotte’s cheek. She’d always been such a crybaby. Hadn’t she?

That… that’s really clever voice…

Naturally. Charlotte’s lips twitched with sudden mirth.

Glad I thought of it… Charlotte felt the presence snort dryly.

That’s the spirit, greenie.

 Charlotte laughed. It felt good to laugh. 

The more you trust my guidance—the more you let me in… the less of a difference there will be between you and I. You won’t feel like you’ve got two people in your head. And greenie, you won’t be afraid anymore.

Charlotte felt herself beginning to smile. She really did feel better after talking to the magic.

You’re meeting yourself for the first time. Your true self—greenie. The person you were meant to be. Everything is going to be better now. Charlotte felt herself sink into the warmth and comfort the magic provided. For the first time in forever, she felt special. Worthwhile. Determined. The magic cooed, sinking deeper.

I know it’s confusing now. But soon everything make sense. And one day you’ll be able to look into the mirror and say ‘it’s me—Chara’.

##########################################################################################################33

Thats not comforting. Thats not comforting at all... '

well crap bros, Chara finally rears her ugly head. This does not bode well.

I always wondered how Chara managed to convince someone as kind and gentle as frisk to commit such atrocities. My guess is that they've got a silver tongue in that creepy little mouth of theirs. So this is my take on Chara I guess. smooth, charismatic, manipulative and dangerously determined.  

Thats just how I see it anyways. You guys let me know what you think of this interpretation. Kay?

Chapter Text

AN: H-hey guys… *dodges rotten vegetables* I know, I know! I promised the skelebros would be in this chapter. But a certain SOMEBODY, decided to derail the chapter with their OWN nonsensical little cameo. I blame them.

This is already a long chapter, and I couldn’t figure out else to cut it without it feeling to jarring. So…heh… sorry, that’s all I got folks. Expect Skelebros in the next chapter and enjoy an early release of a super long chapter in the meantime.

That being said, I really appreciate your guys’ feedback. I have some concerns about how this story is flowing. ..

What do you guys think of Dave?

Does Chara seem to OOC to you?

What do you hope to see in the next few chapters?

What are your predictions?

Kay…

I’m gonna go hide in a hole now…

###############################################################################3

@ RubyDracoGirl: glad you’re enjoying it. No, don’t worry, the kid in the dumpster wasn’t frisk. That’s waaaay too horrible. (Even for me to write.) Frisk will be explained soon enough. Stay determined. ;)

@ MaliciousGravy: yeah I noticed that too. Heh. That’s what I get for updating at 2 am huh? Anyway I’m glad you’re enjoying the twistiness of this twist.

@ Tangibility: I love dramatic irony. So sooo much.  ^^  let me know if Chara gets too OOC.

@ BirdyBones: aww, nothing like a fresh cup of reader tears to start off a day right. ;)   I’m glad you’re enjoying Chara anyway. Its creepy, I know she’s an evil little tartlet—heck, I’m writing her— but sometimes I feel a little taken in by her personality.  Guess I just have a lot of Sympathy for the Devil! Eeeey!....

……..

…………………………….

I’ll show myself out…

#####################################################################################

Chapter 8: The good people

“Remind me again why you’re here Miss Job?” Dave huffed from his place at the driver’s seat.

“What do you mean boss?” Daphne grunted. “Chara’s coming.”

“Miss Charlotte has to come along—she is our only contact with the monst- with the patrons.” Dave glanced at her from the rearview mirror. “This is a dangerous case miss Job. I am not comfortable with my employees taking unnecessary risks.”

“Sure sounded dangerous from what I heard.” Daphne grunted dryly, pulling her headphones back on. “Especially for us –how did he put it again?—‘tiny-doggie-fixing-humans.’” She winked at Charlotte before turning her music up and zoning out of the conversation.

Charlotte grinned. She felt ten times better about this house call to papyrus’ flat now that she knew Daphne would be coming too. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dave. She was just nervous about how he would react to an eight foot skeleton—especially one as exuberant as Papyrus. It was cause for some pause. The way Dave talked about monsters made her cringe. What if he said something unkind in front of Papyrus? The more she played out the different scenarios in her head—the more her stomach began to churn with worry. She pinched her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Red…?

What is it Greenie?

You don’t think that Dave would hurt Papyrus if he gets scared…do you?  

That’s a possibility.

But Dave is so nice. I mean I’ve seen him stay up all night trying to get half-starved puppies to nurse.

Oh?

Up until now I’ve never known him say a bad thing about anyone. Not even when Trish leaves her cigarette buds in his potted plants. But now… well you heard him. He called Papyrus a ‘thing.’

You’ve called him worse. Just not out loud. Charlotte flinched.

That was different. It was before I knew him… She shook her head in frustration.

You know what I mean. This is all uncharted territory for me. Feels I don’t even know my friends anymore….

Oh bollocks that sounds terrible… What I’m trying to say is, I know that Dave is a good person and all, but I don’t know how accepting he will be about this. I never had to worry with him till now.  It’s just frustrating.  

The voice sighed and charlotte could feel its presence stroke her soul comfortingly.

Oh Greenie...Welcome to reality. It’s ugly. We’re all ugly deep down.  The voice sounded almost…bitter. Where did that come from?

What do you mean…?

I mean that people are sick Greenie. And those good people of yours—they are the worst of all.

Why?

Because in the end, most people are ‘good people’ but it doesn’t matter how nice they seem, or how many three-legged puppies they save from drowning—there still something rotten in them. They’re still part of the problem.

Charlotte frowned. She thought back to how Dave had barred the monsters access to his animal shelter. Come to think of it, most stores and restaurants in town had ani-monster signs and notices. The sweet old lady at the cafe who always adds an extra shot of salted caramel to Charlotte’s morning coffee—she had a human’s only sign hanging in her window. Charlotte’s head began to ache.

 You’re right…. Charlotte felt Red let out an approving hum at this.

I think…I think that most people are basically good—like Dave. But it’s like you said, he’s part of the problem too. Good people do lots of bad things without even realizing that they’re bad.

Charlotte looked out the window, watching the houses pass and the human pedestrians begin to thin in numbers. They were approaching monster territory.

Most people aren’t really malicious or going out of their way to cause anyone pain but they still do.

You’re right Greenie. The presence curled closer, cooing softly. What are we gonna do about it?

Charlotte’s head came up.

We?

You said it yourself, people are a part of the problem. But what about us? Are we part of the sickness?

Or are we the cure?

“We’re here”

Charlotte sat up quickly. The truck had come to a stop.

Just think about it greenie.

 Charlotte didn’t respond. She just hurried out of the truck and went to help Dave unpack. She tried hefting one of the medical bags up but Dave swatted at her, waving her off.

“Too heavy for you. Turn loose. I’ve got this.”

“Don’t hurt yourself old man.” Daphne grunted. She and charlotte started off towards the apartment complex. Daphne wore her trademark disinterested scowl but Charlotte noticed the way her eyes kept roving the area, and the way she kept close to Charlotte—their arms almost brushed as they walked.  Maybe she wasn’t as relaxed as she let on. They reached the double doors to the lobby, and charlotte stepped up to open them. They didn’t budge. She tried again. Locked? Then she noticed the card reader on the door pane.

Oh…That’s right...

The first time she came here she had papyrus to let her in. Okay… She glanced around for a callbox. Maybe she had to be buzzed into the apartment building. Sure enough, a relatively new looking callbox stuck out from the wall with neatly printed little flat number cards identifying each flat.

Only problem was that there was a spear sticking out of it.

Charlotte did a double take. When the spear didn’t disappear she sagged.

Why?

Just why…?

The spear had punctured right through the metal, (the edges around the spear were melted as though the tip had been red hot when it went through. Some of the little buttons were still blinking. Most of them looked dead. Daphne let out a low whistle.

Well crap.

“Heh. Bingo.”  Daphne waved Chara over. She’d found a small glass booth adjoining the building. There was a little blue  sign taped onto the other side of the glass.

 “Place is a crap shack.” Daphne grunted ringing the little bell on the counter. “How do they afford a full-time doorman?” Charlotte elbowed her in the ribs.

“Shh! be nice. What if somebody hears you?” Charlotte cast a nervous glance at their surroundings.  She was already sweating bullets, the last thing she wanted to do was offend a strange monster by bad-mouthing their home. Daphne raised her hands lethargically.

“Just sayin.”She grunted. “So. What do you reckon these are?”

“hm?”Charlotte followed to green haired girls gaze. On the booth’s counter sat several…

What were they exactly? Several small metal objects decorated the counter. They looked for all the world like garbage, old aluminum cans, tin foil and scrap metal all twisted up into strange shapes. Gingerly, Charlotte picked on up and turned it over in her hands. It sort of looked like a flower. Yes—she could definitely make out a spindly coat hanger stem and five petals made from what looked like tuna can tabs. Charlotte drew in her chin. Was it supposed to be art?

“WHAT WHAT WHAT?!” came a suddenly bellow. Charlotte jumped dropping the flower-thing onto the floor as Daphne immediately stepped in front of her.  Pins and needles. Charlotte’s hand was in her pocket, gripping the handle of the scissor blade before she could even register the flailing yellow shape that shot at her.

 “DESPICABLE DESPICABLE DESPICABLE HUMAN! YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” Charlotte spun to face her attacker. What looked like a ratty yellow training dummy in pieces floated before them. An old-school red bellhop hat perched upon its head. The dummy vibrated with anger. Charlotte stared. But the pins and needles feeling—the electricity of Red’s touch petered off just as quickly as it came. Charlotte’s hand released the blade. Her body relaxed. Red groaned.

“um…what?”

“LOITERING! ATTEMPTED THIEVERY! DISTURBING THE PEACE!” The dummy ranted, seeming to pace bobbing in midair before them. It wasn’t attacking them. But it certainly didn’t seem friendly either. Daphne shot Charlotte a questioning glance. Apparently Charlotte’s two hours around a monster seemed to have made her the resident expert on the subject. But Charlotte just shook her head equally stumped. She prodded for Red—hoping she’d be able to explain what was happening but all she got in reply was a distinct wave of irritation. Charlotte bit her lip. Guess she was on her own.

“Sorry, we weren’t trying to cause any trouble” Charlotte raised her hands, giving what she hoped was an innocent smile. She decided to redirect the conversation. “Y-you’re the doorman right? It’s nice to meet you—“

The dummy scoffed but raised its head higher at this.

“You are correct foolish trespasser! I am a Doorman that lives inside a DUMMY! I am called the MAD DUMMY! ALL fear and quake in my presence!” Its voice was kind of pitchy. It squeaked often like an old clarinet, and not in a pleasant way. “No mortal soul may enter here without MY PERMISSION! YOU have aroused my anger human! and now you will PAY THE PRICE for your sins!” It let out another earsplittingly ominous laugh as it hung over the two humans.

“...His name is Dummy?” Daphne grunted. She earned another elbow in the ribs from Charlotte.

“W-we’re not trespassing sir. Actually we are here to see a friend. If you could just buzz us into their apartment we’ll get out of your hai—“

“ACK! MURDER! MURDER! MURDER!” The dummy squalled, floating around the counter so he could gape at the ground near Charlotte’s feet. Charlotte followed his gaze and winced. The flower thing’s petals had broken fallen off when she dropped it. The dummy’s eyes were bugging out. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GLORIOUS RECYCLEABLE MASTERPIECE!?”

Oh...

“I am so sooo sorry…” Charlotte stooped down hastily to pick the broken thing up, face burning. “M-maybe I can fix it!” She set it up on the counter like before and tried to piece the petals back on while the dummy hovered around her, fuming in her ear. “T-there! All better!” Charlotte threw on a breathless grin and held up the flower for the dummy to see. The entire bud fell off and smashed against the floor. She let out a gasp.

You are so weird…

The dummy looked as though it might explode.

“PUT. THAT. DOWN.”

“Um…Right.” Charlotte set the twisted stem onto the counter and bobbed down to gather up the bits of the bulb. “Do—do you want me to put this up here on the counter or…?”

“JUST LEAVE IT!” The dummy shrieked. Suddenly a beefy hand grabbed Charlotte’s wrist. She and Daphne were yanked roughly behind a tall white coated figure. The man’s bulk hiding them from view.

“Get away from them.” Dave hissed. He’d dropped his supplies and came running when he caught sight of what was happening. Now he stood erect, eyeing the dummy with an intensity and evenness Charlotte had never seen from him before. Dave wasn’t a young man. His dark hair was already beginning to streak with grey. However he had a wide chest and shoulder and he had an intimidating enough barring to cause the Dummy to pause and look him up and down. Charlotte peeked out from behind the doctor.

“A doctor? Doctor…doctor?” The Dummy muttered to itself, ‘teeth’ clicking together thoughtfully.

“There is a sick animal in this building.” Dave said slowly clearing his throat. His voice was deeper than normal, like he was trying to sound more intimidating. Apparently Charlotte wasn’t the only one who noticed. Daphne let out a low snort from underneath Dave’s other arm.

“Sick?” The dummy blinked. Dave nodded.

“A monster named Papyrus called us to come and have a look at it. So if you please—buzz us into their apartment so we can get to work.” Dave intoned.  The Dummy stared. It tilted its head to the left. Then to the right. Then it harrumphed and flung itself violently at the glass window of the booth.

Charlotte let out a tiny scream, hands covering her mouth in horror as the dismembered bits of the training dummy scattered lifelessly to the concrete.

“Whatever…whatever…” The dummy’s mumbling voice drifted from inside the booth. Charlotte stepped forwards to peer through the glass and caught sight of a  small shape rifling through a filing cabinet.

It was kind of…well, adorable actually.  The monster was literally a little yellow bedsheet ghost. It was cartoony with big eyes and a jagged mouth—almost like a little kid’s drawing.

“Flat number 209…” It floated over to his personal callbox and pressed a button. “Papyrus! You have questionable company…” The ghost gruffed testily, speaking into an earpiece. He doesn’t even have ears. How does he even…? Charlotte shook herself. Not important right now.

“I’ll send them right up.” The ghost jabbed another button and the double doors of the apartment complex opened.

“Heh. Thanks Casper.” Daphne was the first to step through the doors lugging Dave’s bags behind her. Charlotte did a double take. When had Daphne gone back for Dave’s medical bags? Dave put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and began to follow the green haired girl inside. Charlotte thought she felt the doctor’s hand tremble. But it could have been her imagination.

As they entered the lobby, the little ghost popped its head out of the side of the wall and followed them with its eyes. It’s face glowed an odd yellow color and it drifting over to them. The ghost paid Charlotte a withering glance before shoving a folded piece of notebook paper into Dave’s hands.

“Um… thank you?” Dave raised a brow.

“hmph!” the little ghost shot back through the wall and out of sight. They headed upstairs with Daphne taking the lead, lugging two or three heavy bags behind her. Normally Dave would have stopped and made her hand them over by now, but he seemed distracted. He had opened up the note and was staring at it in red-faced consternation.

“What did they say?” Charlotte asked leaning up on her tiptoes to see the paper better. Something was scrawled hastily with red ink.

555-012-2345

Hey doc,

I wish I was your coronary artery, so that I could be wrapped around your heart. 

Call me. We can Netflix and chill. ;)

-Dummy

 

“You guys okay back there?” Daphne grunted from the top of the stairs. Dave flushed deeper. he crumpled the paper hastily and shoved it into his pocket.

 “Miss Charlotte, I’ll give you a 50 cent raise if you keep this between us.”

Charlotte fought down a laugh, keeping a pinched tight smile on her lips.

“Yes sir.”

#############################################################################

Sooo... I didn't plan the phone number bit. Actually came as a complete surprise to me when I was writing it. 

Apparently Madstablook likes Dave's deep, sexy 'I'm-trying-to-sound-scary-even-though-I'm-secretly-pissing-myself' voice.  Haha

DaveXMadDummy...

Kawaii as hell.

Just ignore me readers.  Its past my bedtime.XD

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Have Mercy

Charlotte rapped on the door, putting on a confident grin. Sure, Dave and Daphne’s first encounter with a monster had been a little rocky. But now that they had arrived at Papyrus’ flat, she was certain that the awkwardness was behind them.  Then the door opened and her heart sank.

“Oh…hi Sans...”

 Sans looked over the group of humans, grinning unreadably. He was easily a head taller than Dave, and more than three times as broad. He seemed to take up the entire doorway with his bulk. She felt Dave stiffen next to her. Why couldn’t papyrus have answered the door?

“Sup.” Sans rumbled.

“We’re here to check up on Doggie.” Charlotte motioned to the other two humans. “This is my coworker Daphne, and my boss Dave.”

“Y’don’t say?” Sans barely paid Daphne a second glance, focusing in on Dave like a laser beam. Sans grinned. It wasn’t a nice grin.  He stepped up to man, extending a hand. Dave accepted it, his own hand all but disappearing in the skeleton’s massive grip.

“Pleasure.” Dave intoned, his smile tight. They locked eyes.

Oh bollocks…

“Dave is our resident Veterinarian, Sans,” Charlotte said. She tried edging closer to step between them, but Daphne’s fingernails dug into her arm, keeping her in place. She cast Charlotte a warning glance.

“Animal doctor huh?” Sans rumbled squinting down at the man. “Maybe you can clear somethin’ up for me then…”  He began picking his teeth lazily with his pinky finger. Dave leaned back slightly.

“I’ll…do my best…”

Oh Bollocks he’s terrified. Charlotte realized. She could feel the fear rolling off of Dave, even though he tried not to show it. She felt a genuine stab of annoyance towards the pun-loving monster.

 Why? Why was Sans doing this? Did he just make a point to intimidate every person he meets? Dave was already so uncomfortable. It was a miracle she’d even convinced him to drive down there at all. And here came Sans, shattering all her hard work in one fell swoop. Why did he have to make everything so hard?

The monster leaned lazily against the door pane, causally looming over the man. Dave swallowed, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat. But the doctor held Sans’ gaze and stood his ground. He raised a questioning brow to the monster as if to say ‘well, what is it?’ Charlotte couldn’t help but feel a little impressed with his nerve. She never thought the kindly doctor could be so...

Brave.

 “Bout how much does a wooly mammoth weigh?” Sans rumbled.

.

“I don’t know.” Dave intoned.

The little white lights in San’s eye sockets burned a little brighter, his grinned widened.

“Enough to break the ice.”

beat.

Sans let out a booming laugh, slapping Dave on the back.

“I’m just messin with ya Doc, come on in!” Sans voice was suddenly warm and jovial. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye socket before turning back into the flat, waving for them to follow.

“Hey Bro! Humans are here!” Sans called into the house. Said humans, exchanged glances. Charlotte forced a confident (though slightly apologetic) grin and strode inside. After a moment her co-workers followed.

Papyrus had dragged the examination table into the living room. Papyrus stood there cradling Doggie in his arms like she was a newborn baby. She was all wrapped up in a blanket with multicolored fluffy bunnies printed on it. Though it was still clearly weak, the dog looked much better than the last time Charlotte had seen it. Its eyes were brighter, and it waggled its tail when the humans entered the room. Charlotte smiled.

Four hours of love from Papyrus and its already like looking at a different dog.

Papyrus lowered the dog and laid her gently on the examination table. He tucked in her blanket around her. Then he stooped down and plant a kiss between her eyes.

Oh.

Oh bollocks.

That did it…

Right in the heart...

It was all Charlotte could do to keep from squealing and grabbing the big doofus into a hug right then and there. How was this cinnamon bun even related to a guy like Sans? So sweet…

When papyrus straightened, his eyes fell on the three new humans standing in his living room. His jaw dropped. Joy. Overwhelming wonderful joy and energy—the kind a six year old might feel when they meet santa claus for the first time, emanated from the skeleton. So intense that Charlotte’s grin faltered.

Wait…

Without warning Papyrus shot at them, a whirlwind of excitement. Charlotte felt Dave and Daphne turn to stone beside her. Papyrus literally leaping over the examination table with his extra-long legs and charged towards the newcomers. He crossed the room so fast that Charlotte half wondered if he’d be able to stop in time before plowing them all into the ground. In an instant, Papyrus had Dave’s hand pinned between two of his own and was shaking the man’s entire arm with gusto.

“I AM SO HAPPY YOU ARE HERE TINY-DOG-FIXING-HUMAN!”  He cheered, so loud that it almost hurt their ears. “I KNEW YOU WOULD COME! OH DOGGIE WILL BE SO HAPPY!” He gushed.

“Uh, papyrus…” Charlotte put a hand on the skeleton’s wrist, trying to reign him back. No dice. Papyrus actually lifted Dave off the floor and crushed him to his chest.

“SANS SAID YOU PROBABLY WOULDN’T COME! BUT I KNEW BETTER!” He spun around happily then held the human out at arm’s length, beaming at him. Dave’s tight smile was still there. Still frozen in place like it had been carved into solid stone. Charlotte grimaced. One look at the man’s ashen face was enough to tell that Sans had been officially dethroned from his current position as the scariest fucking thing Dave had ever seen. Daphne had backed up a few feet, eyeing the skeleton dubiously.  Papyrus set the shakey man back down on his feet. “I KNEW YOU WOULD COME.. I-I NEVER GAVE UP HOPE!”  The skeleton sniffled. He actually sniffled. Charlotte turned to mush when she noticed them. Fat orange tears were forming in the corners of the monster’s eyes.

Oh have mercy…

Charlotte let out a coo and threw herself at the monster, hugging him tight.

So cute! So cute so cute so cute so cute so cutesocute so-

Shut up Greenie!

Charlotte couldn’t help it. His happiness was so contagious. So overwhelming. She couldn’t help but share in it. Papyrus scooped her up and started dancing her around the room, nyeh heh hehing. Red seemed to grow more irritated at being ignored.

You’re making a scene. Stop.

No response.

Stop dancing.

Nothing. It took a moment for Red to realize. Charlotte couldn’t hear her right now. Red groaned.

Why are you so weird?

But she knew very well why. That’s what made it all the more irritating.

This was why Charlotte hated crowds. Why she avoided the subway, and hated confrontation. Why she always cried during sad movies—no matter how cheesy. Why she was so good at reading emotions. Why she trusted so easily, and felt everything so intensely.

The green magic leaking from Charlotte’s soul surrounded Red, shining so bright and loud that she gave up and slumped down to wait it out. 

Green soul. Weak soul. 

Green magic. Useless magic. It would only make her suffer more in the end. Only make her miserable.

It had to go.

The power to feel the emotions of others. The power of empathy.

That had to be the first thing to go.

#######################

The mini celebration lasted for only a few seconds, but it felt much longer. When Charlotte finally got back on her own feet she noticed. Daphne was almost smiling. Dave wore a frazzled smile, watching them. Confused. Still rattled. But his eyes shone with laughter.  Apparently Papyrus’ exuberance was much more endearing when it was directed at someone other than him.  Sans—it seemed—had left the room.

Coming slowly down off her high, Charlotte began introducing her co-workers once again. Take-two went a hell of a lot better. The exchange was polite. And Dave seemed much more relaxed when he approached the table where Doggie slept.

Then came testing. Dave seemed to zone out once he started working, checking different parts of the sores, taking temperatures. Except for the occasional ‘hmm’ he was silent. Sans sauntered back into the room a little while later, silently observing the doctor work. After a few minutes the man sighed and got to his feet.

“She’ll need stitches for the sores. I can clean them out and get them set up no problem but they’re definitely infected. She’ll need to be on antibiotics for a few weeks.” Dave listed off. Papyrus nodded furiously, scribbling this all down, though he didn’t understand anything about ‘infections’ or antibiotics in the least. “Then there’s the mange. She’ll need medicated baths for a while. Lots of rest. I’ll be able to know more after I shave her.”

Papyrus was giddy. “DID YOU HEAR THAT DOGGIE? THE DOGGIE-FIXING-HUMAN IS GOING TO TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOU!”

“This might take a little while if you’re wanting me to do it here.” Dave said, getting out the needed tools. “Could be a few hours. Is that alright?”

“OF COURSE! YOU ARE WELCOME TO STAY AS LONG AS YOU NEED TO!”

Dave’ hmmed’ and went to work. Everyone else hovered around watching him, offering help when they could. There wasn’t much for anyone else to do though and an uncomfortable silence began to fall over the scene. Charlotte began to regret having so many people come. No one really talked to each other. No one really KNEW each other except for Charlotte and Papyrus. And papyrus was too busy holding Doggie’s paw and muttering assurances to really break up the awkward silence.

So it came as a shock to Charlotte when fifteen minutes into the operation, Daphne sauntered over to Sans.

“Hey. Big guy.” She tugged on the hem of his sleeve to get his attention. The monster paused before glancing down at the human. “Wanna do me a huge favor?”

Charlotte pinched her eyes shut. It was all she could do to keep from ripping her own hair out. Things had just calmed down. Sans’ brow bone raised.

“What kind of favor?” the monster rumbled.

In response Daphne dug into her backpack and pulled out a well-loved sketchbook. She flipped it open to some figure drawings and held it up for Sans to see.

“So I’m a Graphic Design major, yeah? I’m supposed to have five more sketches done for class tomorrow morning.” Daphne squinted up at Sans, closing one eye. “Would ya be pissed and go all ‘fee fi foe fum’ on us again if I draw you?”

Charlotte froze. She couldn’t tell if Sans got the reference or not but judging by the dumbfounded look on his face the meaning definitely hit home. Somewhere in her chest Charlotte felt Red resurface. She snickered faintly.

Oooh…Ballsey…

For some reason, Sans’ eyes flickered to the doctor. The two shared a look that Charlotte couldn’t put a name to. Then Dave turned his attention back to the dog. Sans immediately stooping slightly to grin at the green haired girl.

 “hmm… That all depends pipsqueak, you gonna paint me like one of your French skeletons?”

“Naw.” Daphne shrugged turning to a clean page. “It’s whatever. You can just sit on the couch and do nothing if ya want.”

“You’re in luck then” Sans chuckled, and Charlotte thought she saw genuine amusement in his eyes as he flopped down on the sofa. “I’m a pro at sittin around doin’ nothing.”

Daphne settled down on the floor cross legged setting up her supplies as Sans lazily stripped off his hoodie and undershirt before laying back onto the sofa. Charlotte stared. He really was all bones underneath all those layers. While the basic structure was pretty much the same, Sans didn’t really look much like a human skeleton. His bones were big and thick, and seemed much sturdier than normal. His build wasn’t right for a human either. Charlotte wasn’t an artist, but even she could tell that his anatomy greatly skewed. In the center of his chest, partially obscured by his ribs— floated a little white inverted heart.

Daphne paused, squinting hard at the heart. She nibbled the end of her eraser thoughtfully.

Sans winked—one eyesocket closing impossibly as he grinned down at the artist.

“Like what ya see pipsqueak?” he snorted. Dave’s head came up at that remark, but seemed to let it pass.  Daphne blinked slowly pressing a white chalk pencil to black paper. She shrugged.

“You got some weird-ass eyes.” She grunted.

Seriously, was she trying to get a rise out of him? Charlotte’s brow knit up. Maybe she actually was.

But the skeleton was far from offended. He let out another rumbling laugh, his ribs and shoulders shaking to illustrate it.

“Well you got some weird-ass hair kiddo”

Daphne smiled at this. A tiny, almost imperceptible daphne-sized smile.

“Thanks. I try.”

And that was it. Sans lounged there idly. Daphne went to drawing. Dave turned back to work on the dog.

Papyrus took Charlotte’s hand. “COME TINY HUMAN! LETS MAKE DINNER! I WILL TEACH YOU THE DELICATE ART OF CREATING FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI!” Charlotte nodded slowly and allowed herself to be steered off towards the kitchen.

Charlotte kept an ear out, trying to listen to what was happening in the living room, but the door muffled the sound too much for her to understand what anyone was saying.  A few times, Sans’ booming chuckle reached the kitchen. Once Charlotte thought she even heard Dave’s laugh mixed in there. Was everyone really just…getting along? Just like that? She shook her head slowly.

How’d that happen?  

 Red groaned weakly somewhere inside of Charlotte’s chest.

You really are an idiot…

#############################################################################33

TL;DR

Charlotte and papyrus be like:

Charlotte:

Papyrus:

At first, Chara be like:

But then...

They were still:

And 

and:

.................

.......................

So then Chara be like:

 D E S T R O Y   A L L    F E E L S S S S S S....

Chapter Text

 Chapter 10: Let The Horror In

“Smells good Pap” Sans rumbled as he walked into the kitchen. “Just came in to say that the humans are leaving.”

“WHAT?” papyrus looked up from the stove—stricken. “WHAT ABOUT DINNER?!”

“Doc finished up on th’ pooch. He left some pills, fancy shampoo and instructions on how ta take care of her.” Sans shrugged “ ‘parrently he’s gotta drop th’ pipsqueak off at class ‘n to get back to work.” Sans threw a glance in Charlotte’s direction. She winced. That’s your cue to leave.

“Tell them I’ll be right out.” Charlotte said. She patted her apron to get the leftover flour off of her hands. Sans’ eye lights flickered and he stiffened, turning to stone. Hate. It hit like a bolt of lightning. Charlotte threw the skeleton a nervous glance, but he was focused in completely on the white powder on Charlotte’s hands. A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine. The lights left his eyes.

“Miss Charlotte?” Dave poked his head into the kitchen. Sans blinked, and the moment was over. She let out a breath.

“Sorry Dave, just getting cleaned up, I’m coming.” She waved to the man.

“EH, DOGGIE-FIXER- HUMAN?” Papyrus edged towards Dave, fingertips clinking nervously together. “DOES THE TINY HUMAN REALLY HAVE TO LEAVE?” He asked nervously.  that innocence. it was like…like a child who found brought home a stray cat. The ‘can we keep her…please..?’ feel to it made Charlotte smile. Dave regarded the monster for a long moment. Then he smiled weakly.

“Her shift is over. As of twenty minutes ago, Miss Charlotte is a free bird.” He shrugged. Charlotte’s head shot up, eyes darting to Dave. What?! “She’s a grown woman, you’ll have to ask her if it’s what she wants.” Charlotte gaped. Dave gave her a rueful smile, hands going into his pockets. Was he really just…?

I’ll be damned. He actually trusts us Greenie.

Red sounded almost smug. Charlotte shook off her surprise and felt her face fall into a grin.

“Well, if you don’t need my help at work, then sure. I’d love to stay for dinner Papyrus”

The tall skeleton let out a squeal of joy and suddenly Charlotte was eight feet off the ground in a back-breaking hug. Her cheek pressed into the skeleton’s thin bony one.

“THIS IS WONDERFUL! WE CAN EAT FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI, AND WATCH METTATON TOGETHER, AND—“

Charlotte noticed Dave standing close to Sans. They appeared to be talking quietly about something, but Papyrus’ booming voice in her ear made it impossible to tell what about. Some kind of understanding had formed between the two. Both were nodding. Sans’ eye lights had dimmed.  

“what…what did he say to you?” Charlotte asked after Dave had gone. she tried to sound casual, but her nervousness came through nonetheless. Sans regarded her.

“Nothin much. Just asked me to make sure you get home okay tonight.”

Charlotte smiled, shoulders relaxing. Sans grunted.

“Whats that look for?” he slipped past her into the living room. “Never said I agreed to it.”

###########################################################################3

Making spaghetti sauce with Papyrus was a lot messier than Charlotte had expected it to be. Apparently, the secret to expertly cooked spaghetti sauce was to punch the raw vegetables until they bent to your will and transformed into sauce. And the harder you punched, the more delicious the sauce would become. The two of them stood at the counter pounding tomatoes into pulp. Charlotte had to admit, it was kinda fun—stress relieving almost. For whatever reason, Sans  kept coming in and out periodically to ‘help’ with dinner. Charlotte used the word help lightly since Sans really didn’t do anything but mill around the kitchen, and make the occasional vegetable-related pun. To be honest it was a little nerve racking. No matter which was she turned she could still feel the skeleton’s eyes on her. She tried to ignore it. At some point Papyrus bounded off to get some clean ovenmits.

“Hey kiddo” the baritone voice rumbled charlotte making her jump. When had he come up next to her?  She glanced up to find Sans grinning face above her. “What do humans and spaghetti noodles have in common?” Another pasta joke.  Did he ever run out? Charlotte forced a smile and shook her head.

“I dunno. What do humans and spaghetti noodles have in common?” she said, humoring him. Sans leaned down, brushing a lock of hair back so he could whisper in her ear.

“They both wriggle when you eat them.”

Charlotte’s heart turned to ice. The memory of Sans’ hands inches from her soul, close enough to grab it—came unbidden into her mind. Her eyes darted up to his.  The skeleton took one look at her expression, before he burst out laughing.

“You really are an innocent little girl, aren’t you?” Sans leaned down and ruffled her hair rather hard. Charlotte paused, eyeing him confusedly. He winked. “lighten up bucko, I’m just messin with ya.”

“SAAAAANS!” Papyrus groaned as he stepped back into the room. “ARE YOU BOTHERING THE HUMAN WITH YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES? IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE IN HERE YOU MAY AS WELL PUT ON AN APRON AND HELP!” This only seemed to feed Sans’ amusement.

“Sorry bro, just came over to bug the human.” Sans shrugged, as if this made things all better. He turned back to Charlotte. “Anyways, kid, I just came in here to warn ya.  ya might wanna clean your hands quick before those juices set in too much.”

“Um…Why?”

“Didja never notice that when ya make spaghetti sauce yourself, your hands smell like garlic for weeks?”

Charlotte glanced at her sauce covered hands. Curiously she brought a hand up closer to her nose to give it a sniff.

Greenie wait—

SPLAT!

The moment her hands neared her face, Sans bumped her elbow, causing her to slap Sauce all over her face. The apartment shook with San’s booming laughter and Papyrus’ incredulous shouts about his immaturity. Charlotte drew her hands away from her face and blinked. Everything was red…

How are you this gullible?

It took awhile for Papyrus to finally calm down and for Sans to stop laughing. But when they did Papyrus slumped over to her, looking sheepish.

“I APOLIGIZE FOR MY BROTHERS CHILDISH PRANKS. LETS GET YOU CLEANED UP...” Papyrus sighed, he put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulders and led her to the bathroom. The skeleton’s bathroom was small, with a cheap looking tub-shower. Charlotte winced at the sight of it, imagining someone as tall as papyrus trying to cram themselves down into a tub that size. Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror and winced. It had gotten everywhere, even in her hair.

“HUMAN! YOU MAY USE OUR SHOWER TO WASH YOUR HAIR IF YOU WOULD LIKE!” He began digging into a hall closet pulling out items. When he turned back to her he had his arms full of toiletries. There was a fluffy pink towel, two bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a hairbrush, and a clean washcloth. The skeleton beamed and held out the items proudly.

Charlotte stared. The first aid kit, the oven mitts, and now a bunch of hair products? Skeletons didn’t have hair or skin. She shook her head slowly reaching out to take them.

“Papyrus…? Not to be rude or anything, but…why do you have all of this?”         

The Skeleton’s smile fell, and he glanced away awkwardly.

“Oh… heh” he muttered, voice going surprisingly soft. “We bought those a while ago for when Frisk came to visit.”

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat.  Anger. Fear, disbelief, outrage, horror, scandal, rage-  Easy…

She had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from flying into a panic. Frisk.

Frisk had been the little kid who opened the barrier freeing all of the monsters. The one who had acted as their ambassador. Of course Charlotte had heard of Frisk. Everyone had heard about her. And about what  had happened to her.

Frisk had been the monsters sole benefactor from the beginning, urging public officials to trust them, rallying support for the monster’s full integration into society. Giving such sweet, heartfelt speeches about how if everyone just came together, we could all live in harmony.  The poor kid. She lasted less than two months.

Charlotte wasn’t sure exactly how it happened. But apparently there had been an incident at one of their peace rallies. It hadn’t been a public event really. Mostly just the kid giving a speech to the bulk of the monster population here in the city. It happened so fast, catching everyone off guard.

 Some claimed that Frisk was shot while she was onstage giving her address. Others insisted she was smothered to death by the crowd of monsters when came down after the address. Some swore they saw a bright blue flash in her chest just before she fell.

There hadn’t been many humans in the crowd that day. but it seemed like everybody knew somebody who swore they saw what really went down.  The media kept surprisingly close mouthed about the whole ordeal. Most figured that the government had paid to keep everything quiet. The ‘official’ story claimed it was an accident. Nobody really believed that.  Some even  believed  that it have been one of the monsters that killed her. Why else would the government work so hard to keep a lid on it?

That little girl had practically been the patron saint of the monster’s cause. If she’d been slaughtered by one of them… Well that certainly didn’t bode well for the monsters did it? The murkiness surrounding Frisk’s death opened the flood gates for anti- monster sentiment.

Less than a week later another story surfaced, claiming that the Monsters had killed six other children, stealing their souls for some kind of ritual. Since it apparently happened underground, nobody had any proof of this aside from hearsay and speculation. But the one point that each version of the story agreed on was that the ritual required seven, human souls.

After that, there were practically no human representatives for the Monsters. The media clamored for answers, assailing the king and queen to confirm or deny the claims made against them. But they elected not to answer. The king grew distant after that day, rarely seen in the public eye anymore. He seemed colder. Less accommodating to the humans demands.  For most, his silence was all the proof they needed. The world breathed out—losing whatever optimism they might have felt towards these strangers. Then they inhaled, all together and let the horror in.

Charlotte remembered when she’d heard about it. She’d been at the café getting lunch when a young guy rushed in through the front and yelled for the old lady to turn on the TV to the news report. The café soon erupted in conversation. In angry, horrified voices.

Those horrible creatures from mount Ebbot. They’d murdered a little girl. The only person who stuck up for them. The only one who seemed convinced they were good. They’d killed her. They gobbled up her soul, sacrificed her for some kind of evil ritual. That’s what everyone said. Everyone was shouting and talking at once, not even seeming to hear each other.

Charlotte had knocked over her coffee mug, hands rising up to clamp over her ears. Anger, anger anger. Fear, disbelief, outrage, horror, scandal, rage,anger anger anger anger…  It was everywhere. It was smothering her. She couldn’t breathe.  Horror. Rage.

Revenge.

Papyrus… he’d  known Frisk. He’d been one of Frisk’s friends.

“Oh…” was all Charlotte could say. Papyrus shifted the pile of toiletries into her arms.

 “Yes… well, M-might as well not let them go to waste. Hm?”

They’d been angry, afraid, horrified by what had happened. About what those beings were capable of. The overwhelming fear…

Suddenly Charlotte felt a gentle hand graze her cheek. She sniffled and lifted her eyes. Papyrus smiled down at her. Sorrow. It fell from him like rain on her face. He was in pain too, wasn’t he? She could feel the ache behind his mask of innocence. The empty ache of loss. Of regret. Papyrus had been their friend. Their friend. The skeleton’s hand lingered on her face, he began softly rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Wiping away the sauce. And the tears.

“Papyrus” Charlotte quavered guilt creeping into her. “What are you doing comforting m-me for?” she sniffled, patting his hand. She was being stupid. Selfish. He was the one who had lost someone important to him. He was the one chance for a peaceful life had been shattered. She had no right.

  “I’m sorry pap. I’m just a mess. I’m the one who should be—be comforting you. I-I should be the one trying to  make you feel better.”  The skeleton nyeh heh heh’ed softly.

“Silly human. You already do.”  

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FEEEEEEEEEELS!

Must. counteract. With. Huuuuuumor….

-...................................................

Okay. 

So I imagine that later on Charlotte wakes up in the middle of the night and is like.

“wait a minute… ‘wriggle when you eat them’…..?”

……….

.................................

....................................................

Red was that a SEX JOKE?!

I am so sorry readers...

Chapter Text

AN:

Thanks for being patient. Sorry if the last one was slow moving, or confusing. I know I dropped a pretty big bomb. But it will all make sense soon. I promise.

Thanks for sticking with this. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 11: Where you stand

It was a fun night. Charlotte talked and laughed and ate until she felt both wonderful and awful at the same time. She giggled at each and every one of Sans’ terrible jokes. Ignoring his measuring eyes, and leery grins. Charlotte laughed and listened as papyrus rattled on about the newest metta-something movie or his latest culinary epiphany regarding magically-infused linguine.  She talked about her job working with animals, her fat grey tabby cat, who once ate an entire ball of yellow yarn after she accidentally left it out. She told them about her classes at the university, and her aspirations to become a veterinarian like Dave.

Charlotte talked and laughed and listened—

But thought of nothing.

The human smiled, ignoring the cold cancerous blade in her pocket. She laughed and prattled—drowning out the logical voice in her chest, and the growing suspicion that had taken root in her heart. She did what she did best. She ignored it. She suppressed it, pushing it down and hiding it behind an easy smile and a pair of dark-lashed eyes. The emotional equivalent of sticking her fingers in her ears and humming loudly. After 19 years of sharpening this skill—the human was a pro.

She kept a lid on it. Until the sun had all but fallen from the sky, and dusk began crawling out the claim the world. Until Papyrus gave her one last warm, enveloping cuddle and wished her a safe night. Until she left those safe guileless arms and stepped out into the twilight air—with a sneering bona fide, monstrosity at her side. 

“Gettin’ dark. Lemmie walk ya part of th’ ways home.” Sans rumbled.

 “You really, don’t have to do that…” Charlotte pulled her hood up, keeping the brim down as far over her face as it would go. The skeleton put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“Doctors orders. Tibia honest I don’t think I have th’ guts to cross him.”

Charlotte ducked her head, obscuring her face further. She could feel San’s eyes roving over her. Judging her.

“Heh, that’s your cue to laugh kid. Or y’know…to emote at all.”

When Charlotte said nothing, the skeleton let out a low sigh, and began leading her off into the night.

He knew Frisk.

I know…

You just gonna stick your head in the sand and pretend nothing’s different?

I’m…I just…

It was one thing to hear a rumor of foul play. To see a news report of something terrible happening—to sit on the sidelines and watch as everyone scrambled to pick a side. It was one thing if the scandal was far away from her own life— something beyond her reach of influence. Something alien, all wrapped up in politics and hearsay. It was quite another to suddenly be so close to the problem. To know the players long after learning the score.

It was scary.

Well Greenie?

I don’t know…

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means I don’t know…

Well you’d better make up your mind soon. This is your chance.

My chance?

Don’t you get it? If Sans knew Frisk then maybe He’ll have known what really happened.  Charlotte raised her eyes slightly, so she could peek up at the monster walking beside her. He had his eyes trained forwards, wearing a frozen grin as always. Charlotte closed her eyes.

I know that.

Red was quiet for a moment. Before she let out a cold humorless laugh.

You knew what they were when all this started. When you decided to waltz into their lives. You knew what people said. Can’t tell me you forgot.

I didn’t! I mean…it’s just…This...this might change everything. Papyrus and Sans aren’t just a couple of monsters off the street anymore. They’re not just… random citizens who were uninvolved with the whole scandal.

So. If the rumors about what the monsters did to Frisk were true, it wouldn’t have affected your view of Papyrus? Another cold laugh.You love them in spite of them? A scoff. How very noble of you.

T-that’s not what I meant! I mean…I’ve watched the news. Our government does fishy stuff all the time don’t they? But those people—they don’t represent how everybody feels— do they? And…and you can’t really blame an entire species on the actions of just a few…right?

So even if King Asgore did murder a bunch of children, that doesn’t necessarily mean that all monsters are murders—is that what you’re saying?

Well…yeah, I-I mean I guess…

And your big grinning friend could still be innocent, couldn’t he? Still be worthy of defending?

W-well…

And the two of you can  just laugh and skip off into the sunset,  innocent unaffected  by the political bullshit that just hit the proverbial fan?

Why do you have to be so mean to me?

Because someone has to keep you safe Greenie. You’ve already proven that you aren’t good with making decisions by yourself.

You wanted to believe that Papyrus was just a neutral party in all this. That he was uninvolved with what may have happened. But now you know better. He knew Frisk. Apparently very well too.

So now… what happened that night when Frisk died. It makes all the difference, doesn’t it?

You wanna know where to stand? You’d sure as hell better get your facts straight greenie. All I’m saying.  Charlotte closed her eyes, feeling crushed under her own uncertainty.

So… what do I do?

Start digging Greenie. Only way you’re going to learn the truth.

Okay…

“Sorry…” Charlotte mumbled aloud. Sans paused slightly, glancing down at the human.

“hm?”

“I don’t…know what to say to you.” She mumbled rubbing her arm with a free hand. “I just I don’t know what I said or did to make you hate me so much…”

That caused the monster to stiffen. He stopped walking altogether, paused beneath a streetlamp. The cold light casting shadows down his skull.

“Heh… What makes you think that I hate you?”

“I’m not stupid...”

That opened the flood gates. Stupid, frustrated feelings began pouring from the girl’s mouth before reason could stem the flow. “You can’t stand being around me. You’re always watching everything I do, like you’re expecting me to—I don’t know what… You keep—keep glaring at me like I’m some kind of…of…” Bollocks. Here come the tears… Red groaned, growing cold in her chest.

Why do you always always have to cry?

Charlotte didn’t reply, trying to force down the tears before she tried to speak again.  Sans’ hard expression softened almost imperceptibly around his eyes. But his teeth remained clenched, his grin growing pained. A large hand reached for her face, then paused in the air—conflicted, before slowly lowering back to his side. A soft growl-like sound rumbled in the monster’s chest. It wasn’t aggressive per se, but Charlotte still couldn’t place the reason for it. She wiped her face and dropped her eyes once more to the pavement.

“Is it…is it just because I’m human?”  Charlotte muttered, not daring to look at his face. “I-I…whatever I did to you Sans’ I’m S-sorry…”

“Oh dear. Is everything alright?” A deep sonorous voice filled the air, so large that Charlotte could feel it reverberate through her very bones. She ducked her head—automatically, embarrassedly trying to hide the tears on her face.  All at once the dim light above them was gone, and Charlotte found herself swallowed up in the shadow of someone big. Someone very very big. Charlotte’s eyes slid to the skeleton at her side. He too was completely dwarfed by the presence, towering over them.

Then the skeleton chuckled softly, and spoke, his words lighting a fire of trepidation and wonder inside of the human’s soul.

“Heh. Heya Asgore.”

Charlotte began to shake, head ducking lower, doing all she could to keep her terror from bubbling to the surface. All the videos, news reports, pictures and descriptions clawed their way up into the forefront of Charlotte’s mind.

She didn’t need to look up to know it was him.  She’d seen him so many times before, staring up at her from the pages of magazines. He was a giant. A horned, heavily armored, golden-haired giant. He towered over reporters. Over other monsters.  This was him. The monster everyone was afraid of. The one they said killed all of those children. Murdered them. Taken their souls. One reporter had described him as ‘looking up at some pagan incarnation of Satan himself. Baphomet—given flesh.’  This was him. Asgore Dreemurr—the monster king.

A fuzzy paw— big as a hubcap— rested a top Charlotte’s hood covered head. The air caught in her throat.

“Small one, are you feeling alright? You are shaking.”

Help me…

But Red had gone quiet, stepping into the other room when she heard Asgore’s voice. Charlotte called out to her, desperate for help.

But no one came.

“Small one…?” A small tug of paternal concern. Charlotte took in a shuddering breath.

Okay…okay…Breathe…don’t panic. You’re fine. He’s fine. He hasn’t seen your face. He doesn’t know you’re human. Breathe…

Charlotte shook her head quickly letting the heavy paw slide off of her. She instantly cringed closer to Sans’ chest, trying to hide in his shadow.

The paw lowered. Heartache. Disappointment. Bitterness laced with remorse. But no anger.

“Don’t take it too personal boss,” Sans’ warm chuckle cutting through the tension. “S’my fault really. Kiddo’s new around here. ‘Fraid she hasn’t had a very…good time…”

The monster king was silent for a moment. Charlotte could feel his eyes on her. Then she felt and heard the monster lowering himself down. He was close now, she could feel it. She pressed her face into Sans’ chest. Too close. Bollocks He was way too close…

“I apologize, and I hope that you will feel more welcome in the future little one.” The paw returned patting gingerly over her head, she pinched her eyes shut, unable to keep herself from imagining those powerful hands crushing her head like a grape. The monster seemed to sense her trepidation because he sighed deeply.

“T-thank you... Y-your majesty” she peeped, voice slightly muffled by Sans’ hoodie. The king paused and the paternal feeling intensified. He let out a chuckle like distant thunder and lifted his hand away, rising to his feet. Charlotte’s head felt strangely cold without it’s weight. Charlotte felt the king’s attention turn from her to the skeleton, and she released the breath of air she’d held in.

“I am glad I ran into you Dr. Sans. I know that it is your day off tomorrow, but a group of humans from the bureau are stopping by the embassy tomorrow morning, and I think we would all  feel more... comfortable if…well…”

Charlotte felt the skeleton’s belly shake from laughter beneath her cheek. If she hadn’t been so utterly terrified, Charlotte knew she would have been embarrassed about how she clung so close to him. She barely knew Sans and he was far from a friend. But to his credit, he didn’t pull away from her grip. Something she was eternally grateful for.

“No problemo boss. I’ll make sure to stop by after my shift at the hotdog stand.”

“Good man. I will see you tomorrow at noon then.” The monster king moved away, and Charlotte once again felt the cold yellow light of the street lamp on her again. She peeked out an eye to see that the monster king had his back to them and was striding off down the dark road from whence he came. She watched his retreating back, the tension in her chest began to recede. Her frantic breathing beginning to slow.  The monster king paused a few yards off, but didn’t turn around to look at them. His voice came out soft, sympathetic and low.

“Human… It was nice to meet you.”

Then he was gone. Charlotte stared after him, torn between terror and wonder. He’d never seen her face. How...how long had he known?

Sans seemed to stiffen around her and Charlotte winced raising her head sheepishly. He was frowning. But he hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t thrown her under the bus or forced her to do anything she’d been uncomfortable with. That—she supposed—was a mercy unto itself.

 Now the skeleton just frowned down at her face. Searching. Whatever he sought he must not have found because his frown deepened.

Charlotte released him with a sniffle, shying away. She was too relieved, to confused and overwhelmed to truly feel embarrassed.  

“You wouldn’t let him see your face.” Sans rumbled. “Why?”  The demand wasn’t as cold as it could have been. But there was an edge in it that caused the human to look away in shame. She shrugged lamely. The skeleton hummed.

“Were you really scared? Or were you just too ashamed to show your face? To scared to have him recognize you?”

“Recognize me…?” It was Charlotte’s turn to frown. “S-sans…I’ve never met the monster king before…?”  Sans advanced grabbing her chin and raising her face so that she was forced to look at him. It wasn’t a rough gesture, but Charlotte winced all the same.

“Really?” he pressed. “Not ever?”  Her brow furrowed, head shaking slowly.

“I was… I just heard a lot of stories about him… I wasn’t expecting to meet him...I-I was scared sans…” shining pearls began welling up in the corners of her eyes again. She blinked them away, but they clung still to her lashes. San’s brow lined with thought. Then he released her face and turned away.

“Shouldn’t be scared of th’ king kiddo.” Sans sighed, running a skeletal hand over his tired skull. “He don’t like it.”

Charlotte should have asked him right then and there. Should have demanded answers for the skeleton’s bi-polar moods swings. For his suspicion and nonsensical questions. Answers for what really happened to the six human souls, for what happened to frisk. For everything. Instead she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve and shuffled closer to the monster.

“T-take me home…” she whispered. Her fingers stretched out to take the hem of his sleeve. “Please…just—I-I just wanna g-go home…” A pregnant silence passed between them. Then the skeletal fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Alright kiddo—alright.” The skeleton began leading her gently towards the human border. “Let’s go home…”

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More emo-ness. Jeez I'm really sorry for all the feels guys. But its necessary for the plot. Trust me. ;)

Let me know your feelings about whats happening. I am very unsure about how I feel about these last two chapters and Any feedback would be extremely helpful. 

Thanks for sticking with this.

Chapter Text

 AN: .....

What is that thing....? 

 .....

oh well...

I have no words for what I am about to subject you to dear reader. No words. :0

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Chapter 12: Slythely

The day following her run-in with Asgore, Charlotte got up and spent the better half of the morning scouring the internet for information about the Murders and the six human souls.

Gathering said information was much easier said than done. Sure there were plenty of blogs and conspiracy theory sites raving about Asgore’s alleged murder spree. But none of them seemed particularly credible. And the ones that were simply restated information she’d already heard.

There were allegedly 6 other humans that had fallen before frisk. It was believed that Asgore had killed them and taken their souls. Dark magic. Blood ritual. Yada yada yada. She already knew all of that. Where were the original sources? Why was no one sure where the accusations had first come from?

Switching up her strategy, Charlotte began searching for blogs and interviews that were written by monsters instead of just about them.

This proved far less simple. There seemed to be so few articles and websites written implicitly by monsters. Was it just that the internet was still new to them? Had they not had the chance to get involved yet?

 She came across a few monster blogs here and there. But none of them mentioned so much as a whisper about the fallen children. The thought that all the murder accusations might be the ramblings of paranoid people made Charlotte feel better. Maybe frisk WAS the only human to have fallen down. Maybe the king really was innocent. He had seemed so kind when he’d spoken to her. Despite his terrifying presence—he’d been gentle, courteous even. It would have made things so much easier if he was—just that. But Charlotte had to be sure. So she kept searching.

While none of the blogs seemed to give any evidence of other humans in the underground, everyone had a lot to say about Frisk. A common theme among monster writers seemed to be to either describe where they were and what they were doing when they felt the barrier fall, or to describe the first time they met Frisk.

Charlotte couldn’t help but smile. Each story was so overwhelmingly positive. So genuine. Her fears about the monsters having ill intentions were shrinking. Bollocks they were all so…kind.  It didn’t seem like any of them harbored a grudge towards the child, or towards humanity. This—charlotte realized—was completely at odd with the way the media portrayed monster kind. Charlotte began to feel as though they were being grossly misrepresented— At least as far as the general populous was concerned. In fact, the majority of them had been so unfamiliar with humans that many hadn’t even realized she was human until much later.

Post after post, Charlotte forget about her research and began to really enjoy the sweet interactions. It was her ninth post when she came across a quotation from an old monster called Gerson.

“The human stopped by my shop on her way to the capital. A little lump of a girl with a mop of ragamuffin hair and an old pink tutu. She had been rather quiet, polite, and she struck me as an old soul, just like the other. She purchased a bag off crab apples and made idle chit chat asking the occasional—“

There.

Charlotte did a double take. Her eyes scanned the block of text.

“…and struck me as an old soul, just like the other.” There it was. Hidden in an unrelated tangent about frisk. A casual reference. A slip. Charlotte reread the passage several times before printing out the page. There had been an ‘other’. 

Okay. New game plan.

Charlotte began searching through posts related specifically to monsters first encounters with frisk, hoping for another revelation like the first.  After several tedious hours of weeding through entries. Red jumped suddenly in Charlotte’s chest.

There! Right there! Look at the keywords.

Pins and needles. Charlotte’s hand flew up to point at a search result near the bottom of the 12^th page. It was a link to a blog entry but when she clicked on it the website claimed that the entry had been deleted and that the author no long had an account with the website. Charlotte frowned.

There isn’t anything here…

The cache. See if you can view a screenshot of the page from a previous date.

Bingo.

Red had been right. There was a screenshot of the post before it had been deleted.

“I wasn’t old enough to have been around before the barrier went up. Hell, I can name only three that can still claim such a thing. But I recognized the human for what she was the moment I saw her.  How could I not? She was so similar to the one I’d seen as a child. The one king Asgore had in his possession. It’s been nearly 30 years, but can still remember the tiny struggling creature pinned between the king’s claws. It was stubborn—determined, and it’d given him quite a lot of grief with its fighting. I found myself rooting for it, suppressing a laugh every time its tiny shoe covered foot connected with the king’s nose. My father, however; was not amused. He hovered over the scene, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as the human writhed, spitting obscenities that would make even salty old Gerson blush.  But they gave in eventually. I was disappointed. “

“When I first encountered Frisk she was in Hotland, near the MTT resort. I saw her, but she did not see me. That was good. I was never too good with small talk anyway. She was pudgier than the last, and I had the sudden urge to grab her. To squeeze her. To keep her for my own. But I knew too well about King Asgore’s decree regarding fallen humans. So reluctantly I let her pass. Frisk was so determined, that I found myself rooting for her as well. She was strong. I hoped perhaps she would not meet the same sad end as the first.”

Charlotte stared at the entry. Two simple paragraphs—that changed absolutely everything. This proved it. At least one other human had fallen before Frisk. A human it seemed had come into King Asgore’s dominion. A ‘first’ as the writer called it.  And one—it seemed—that had met some sort of unpleasant demise. It also mentioned a law or decree from Asgore regarding humans, but it did not elaborate and Charlotte began to feel frustrated with the lack of information. She was so close to a breakthrough…

But most compelling bit of evidence was the fact that the blog and profile had been deleted just two days after Frisk’s death.  There was so much there to consider, and yet it raised more questions than it answered. Charlotte needed to know more. She needed to talk to the writer. Meet them if she could. There were too many questions left unanswered.

 Charlotte printed off the page and searched it for any to identify the writer. The only clue was the username ‘Slithely’. Charlotte dug out her phone and shot a quick text to papyrus.

*have you ever heard of a monster called Slithely?

*I HAVE NOT. WHY???? :-O

Charlotte chewed her lower lip choosing her reply carefully. It wasn’t that she really had anything to hide from papyrus. She just didn’t want Sans getting wind of what she was doing. He worked for the king after all, he of all people would be the least approving of her digging for information that clearly were not supposed to be found.

*Nothing. They just seemed interesting is all, and I was hoping to talk to them. But I can’t find their number or address anywhere.

Papyrus didn’t answer. Charlotte wondered if she had been too obvious in her nosing. She started another google search, hoping that the username wasn’t just a nonsensical pseudonym.  This time she searched the keywords ‘Slithely’ and ‘monster’. What she found was several news reports and a Wikipedia article.

The Wikipedia article defined Slithely as: The first monster from Ebbot to be charged with assault against a human.

Oh. That didn’t sound pleasant. She read on.

“Slithely, a short tempered ophidian monster—was arrested earlier this afternoon for attempting to strangle an ABC news reporter. The reason behind her attack is unclear but the charges against the monster were later dropped. Officially chalked-up as a ‘cultural misunderstanding’.” 

Ophidian?

It means ‘snake-like’

Oh. Lovely.

Charlotte felt Red snort.

Sure know how to pick em. Don’t you?

Charlotte’s phone buzzed.

*NYEH HEH HEH!!!1 HUMAN! I HAVE LOCATED MISS SLITHELY!!!! :-D

Charlotte scrambled to reply.

*Really?! How?

*IT WAS A SIMPLE PUZZLE FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! I MERELY LOOKED HER UP ON THE UNDERNET!

Undernet…? Charlotte turned the unfamiliar word over in her head. Was that like some kind of monster internet site? She shook it off. Not important. Her phone buzzed again and she found that papyrus had sent her the full address. The monster appeared to live about a thirty minute drive from her home, farther north in a smaller farming town closer to the base of mount Ebbot.  Charlotte let out a whoop and jumped up, doing an impromptu victory dance. Her grey cat Asriel watched her lazily from his usual spot on her bed.

*PAPYRUS YOU ARE SO AWESOME!!! SERIOUSLY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW! THANK YOU!!!

Charlotte texted back then plugged the address into her phone. The directions popped up with a little ping and Charlotte swelled with determination. She had a lead.

  *****************************************************

I’m surprised you’re letting me do this. Charlotte said as the last bus pulled away, leaving her standing alone on the countryside, near the foothills of Mount Ebbot. Red had been quiet the entire trip up. Charlotte wouldn’t admit it, but Red’s easy compliance with her plans to track down a known human-strangler for information had left her a bit uneasy. She’d come to expect Red to chime in before she made a poor choice, to warn her. But in this case, Charlotte knew her choice was bad—yet her sardonic red side remained silent.

Aren’t going to try and stop me? Lecture me? Charlotte shifted, watching the bus clunk off back towards town.  I’m doing something stupid again right? Finally Red sighed. A belabored, sound.

Yes. Yes you are. She agreed. However… I get the idea that nothing I can say will change your mind about doing this. Isn’t that right? Charlotte snorted, starting down the dirt road.

That’s right.

So if we’re really doing this, I need to set up some ground rules.

Okay. Shoot.

If this monster turns violent, if they show even the slightest sign of aggression—you are to let go immediately and let ME have full control.

Why?

Because in the last fight you had with a monster you froze up. You didn’t listen to me. We can’t afford that kind of hesitation. Charlotte frowned, kicking at a rock as he went. It was true, she was useless in a fight. Her other half however, always kept a clear head during a crisis. She didn’t hesitate the way Charlotte did. But still….

 I can protect us Greenie. You know that. Don’t you trust me? Charlotte took a deep breath.

I trust you.

Slythely’s house was off the beaten path, and charlotte had to pick her way slowly through the underbrush to find it.  The monster’s cottage was very green settled in a marsh of spongy green moss and wildflowers. A little handmade path of flat river rocks led up to a round front door that looked like something out of a Tolkien novel. Charlotte started up the path. 

 Wait wait, hold on a second. What are you going to do?

What?

When you talk to the monster lady. What’s your game plan? What are you gonna do?

I…was going to ask her about the other human?

No. Bad.

What do you mean bad?

Think about it Greenie,  if they’re really hiding something, then flat out asking her is the worst thing you can possibly do.

But…then how else would we get the information out of her?

You gotta be sneaky Greenie. Don’t let her know what you’re really after. She’ll be more likely to reveal things accidentally if she’s not on to us.

So I’ll ask again. What’s your game plan Greenie?

Oh…um

Pull over. I’m driving.

Wha-hey!

I’ll help you get your foot in the door. Then you can take over.

Fine…

 For a few moments Red was completely silent, giving off the faintest buzz of cognition. She was thinking hard.

 Charlotte’s fingers snapped. She bend down and rubbed dirt on her hands, then patted it over her face.

What are you doing?

Greenie. I need you to cry for me.

Cry?

We’re pretending to be lost. Only reason I can think for us to wander up to this random strangler’s house. If you want me to get you inside I need you to look more shaky and pathetic.

I…I can’t just cry on demand..

Oh please. You’re always bitching and moaning about something. At least it’ll be useful for once.

Hey!

Riiiip! Red tore the sleeve off of Charlotte’s blouse and tossed it aside. Just think about something sad.

That was my favorite shirt!

So cry about it. You cry about everything else. 

If you need tears so much then why don’t you cry?  Charlotte huffed. Red faltered.

I can’t.

Oh? Why not?

I just can’t.

Ahah! See? Its not so easy to just cry on demand. 

Red inhaled deeply, seeming to grow cold and calm. Pins and needles. Charlotte’s body strode over to the pathway and sat down.  She reached over and picked up a large rock up from the ground. It was heavy, and took two hands to properly lift.

What are you doing…?

Red ignored her. She slid Charlotte’s ankle over a sturdy rock, adjusting the angle purposefully. Then she hoisted up the heavy rock and held It high above her head.

Wha- are you insane?! Stop!

Red heaved back and brought the rock down  as hard as she could. Charlotte let out a panicked scream. But the rock never connected with her ankle. It came down a little to the left, hitting the dirt. Charlotte shook, staring in terror at the rock that had nearly crushed her ankle. Tears cut unbidden down her cheeks. She felt her lips form a wide grin. Red vibrated in her ribs. more gleeful than Charlotte had ever felt from the magic. It vibrated so hard that it hurt her chest. Red was laughing at her.

Did you really think I’d cripple us Greenie?

You….y-you have a sick sense of humor… Charlotte let her breathing slow, burning face sinking between her knees.

Well, it was better than actually hurting you. The voice mused. Charlotte felt herself jerk to her feet and begin walking towards the front door.

She rapt on it. there was a stirring in the house. The door opened a crack, and a slitted, reptilian yellow eye peered out to regard them.

“I-I’m so sorry to b-b-bother you!” Red whimpered, ducking Charlotte's shoulders and looking up through her eyelashes at the stranger. “b-but I-I’m lost and I can’t find my way back to the human t-town.” Charlotte cringed at Red’s impression of her. Red vibrated again. Of course she found it all hilarious. The eye looked her up and down.

“What happened to your shirt? Did you fall down?” The voice sounded mature, feminine, like a woman in her early fifties perhaps. Their words were laced with concern, and Charlotte felt a stab of guilt. The monster seemed like such a nice old lady too...

“I-I don’t know… there was a ravine. R-rocks… I-I hit my head….” Charlotte’s arms wrapped around herself pitifully. Oh, Red was enjoying herself immensely. The presence jabbed at Charlotte’s soul—

The equivalent of elbowing someone in the ribs to get their attention. Charlotte’s face hiccupped, but inside she could feel Red shooting her a playful look. Then she repeated Charlotte’s words from the previous evening, with such accuracy that it sent a shiver down Charlotte’s spine.

 “Please…I-I just wanna go home…”

The door swung open and a shape shot out at her, beige scales filling her view. Charlotte let out a yelp as she was suddenly enclosed by coils as big around as her own waist.

“OHHHHHH!” The female voice cooed. In an instant Charlotte was face to face with a beaming bow-shaped, snaggle toothed grin on a wide, monstrous head that looked for all the world like a hooded cobra. The slitted yellow eyes were fixed on Charlotte. The little black pupils turned into what looked like upside down hearts.  The coils gave her a squeeze. “Come heeeeere my squishhhh…” The round door behind Charlotte shut with a reverberating thud.

#####################################################################################

Welp. Looks like Charlotte managed to work her way into Slythely’s good graces. Though I’m not sure getting back out of them will be as easy….

Slythley is pronounced (SU- LITHE- LEE)

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the hell out of this character.

Prepare to be squished squish-teen times…

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Questions and Answers

“Oh my dear sweet squishy child! Come in! Come in!” The snake woman gasped. Charlotte felt Red reel in disgust when the coils started squeezing them again. It wasn’t painful, or even very hard, but it caught Charlotte off guard and she let out a gasp. Red recoiled, relinquishing control so she wouldn’t have to feel the coils.  “You poor thing! You must be so famished! Please! Don’t be shy, Come in!”

Charlotte, having very little say in the matter— was dragged along by the coils into a quaint little sitting room. The coils rose up and set her onto a large couch with clear plastic over the seats. Then they released her.

“There now! Just squish right here on the sofa dear—that’s the ticket. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

The snake woman began to dig through an old trunk in the corner, and Charlotte realized numbly, that the snake had arms. The long snake body gave way to what looked like a fairly humanoid upper torso. The snake woman had two, pudgy little arms, and wore a cute polka dot apron over her front. Charlotte shook her head slowly, reminding herself that this wasn’t an actual snake—just an ordinary monster who happened to look like one.

Like papyrus.

 “ah!” Slythley pulled a multicolored blanket from the trunk. At least—it looked like a blanket. The object was made of expertly crocheted yarn, like an afghan blanket. However the shape was off. It appeared to be shaped like very long, gigantic sock that went on and on and on… Slythely held it up, squinting at the blanket. “hm.” She glanced at Charlotte with measuring eyes. Then she clucked, shrugging it off.

“There we are, dearie lets get you all warmed up…” the old snake began wrapping the blanket around Charlotte’s shoulders. “Can’t tell you how pleased I am that you dropped in. Rarely get visitors this far up the mountain. Bit secluded, but the sun—ooh! The sunshine is doing wonders for my complexion.” Slythely chattered on as she wrapped the blanket around charlotte…. And around….and around… Charlotte nodded mechanically throwing in ‘hm’s and ‘yes ma’am’s when she deemed it appropriate.  But the snake kept talking, and the blanket kept wrapping. Just how long was this thing?

“There! All snug!” the snake clapped her hands together beaming down at Charlotte. The human—to her credit—could no longer move her arms under all the layers. But she forced a nervous grin back to the snake woman.

“Heh…thank you ma’am…”

There was a whistle from the kitchen and the snake woman perked up. “Ah! That’ll be the water! Would you prefer cocoa or tea my dear?”

Charlotte tried shrugging, but her shoulders wouldn’t move right, so she nodded.

“Um…eh, thank you ma’am. Tea would be fine…”  

Slythely beamed then slithered off into the kitchen. The moment she was gone, charlotte wrenched with all her strengths struggleing against the blankets in attempts to get her arms free. The itchy woolen sock-blanket was hot, and it didn’t allow for much give. Soon she was sweating, trying to break free, but the coils of blanket held firm and she finally she gave up, leaning back against the sofa, panting softly.

Welp. Old bag has us right where she wants us now.

Red grumbled. Charlotte shut her eyes, still catching her breath.

Looks like.

What horrors do you think she has in store for us? Tea cakes?

Shouldn’t make fun of her… she’s nice….

Nice? pfft.  So you got a battle plan or what?

I’m….still thinking…

I’ve got some ideas…

Think I’m really going to trust you again after last time?

The rock thing? That was a joke.

Pretty mean joke.

It got us inside, didn’t it?

Next time you wanna get your foot in the door, it’d better not be mine!

Noted. So…may I…?

Fine…just one question. Then its my turn. Okay?

Yes yes, fine.

“Bags or leaves?” Slythley’s voice snapped them out of their conversation.

“sorry?” Charlotte said.

“I said,  do you prefer tea leaves or tea bags?” Slythley repeated,  setting up a bone china teaset on the table before them.

“Oh, tea bags please-“ Charlotte began, but was elbowed in the soul as Red scooted over to take control.

“you have such a lovely home Mrs. Slythely,” Red hummed. They reached for the proffered tea cup, before realizing Charlotte’s arms were still pinned to her sides. She forced a grin. “Very…homey…”

“Thank you dear! I’d like to think so!” Slythely came to settle up close to Charlotte of the sofa, wrapping a coil around the entire thing. Charlotte bumped red, irritably. She didn’t like being cut off mid sentence.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Red questioned. “No wait, let me guess…interior designer!” Red winked charlotte’s eye sticking out her tongue just slightly. Charlotte frowned internally. How did Red get so good at charming people?

The snake lady let out another tittering laugh, her coils tightening around the sofa.

“You flatter me child! No no. In my day, I was the underground’s most reputable dance instructor!”

Both Red and Charlotte paused at this. Charlotte’s eyes  slid to the snake body.

“ A…A dance instructor?...wow..” Charlotte piped up, regaining control.

“I was one of the best in my day. Did you know that I instructed mettaton? Ha! That was years ago, back when the dear still went by hapstablook, and still glowed pink everytime anyone gave him a compliment!”Charlotte nodded encouragingly. Even though she hadn’t a clue what the snake lady was going on about. Red shoved into her soul.

I wasn’t finished.

I promised you one question and you asked it. Now its my turn.

But it was a leading question. You dolt, don’t you know how to work a conversation?

Uhgh. Fine. Go ahead and finish…and stop ignoring her while she talks! Its super rude!

Oh yeah…

 “—He really was a prima dona, even back then—but he really was quite good, despite the fact that—you know—he hadn’t any feet…”

Red grinned toothily, letting out a little chuckle.

“That’s incredible ma’am. Wish I could have seen it. I’ll bet you were good. ” Red nodded.  “What got you interested into dancing anyway? Were your parents dancers?”

Oh I see…

“Dancers?! MY parents?! HA!” The snake lady laughed shaking her head. “ No no no no, my dear girl. My parents, grandparents and great-grandparents were all pediatricians.  None of them were too keen on my unconventional hobbies…”

“Pediatricians? You mean like…. Children doctors?”

She laughed, holding up her hand to wiggle her clawed fingers.

“Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘cold doctor hands’, doesn’t it?” The snake lady cuddled in closer, letting out a long sigh.

“But no, I was stubborn. Practiced every chance I could get.  They eventually learned to live with a dancing snake for a daughter.” She shrugged. “But then we were all a bit optimistic back then. I remember when-“

Pediatricians!

I know, I heard.

If king Asgore was going to hurt the human why did he take them to see a doctor?

Search me.

This could mean he actually cared about the humans that fell! This-this…

Maybe. There’s also the possibility that the doctor was in on it too though. And what about the decree about fallen humans? What was that all about?

And why would it make Slythely reluctant to even speak to Frisk? Why was she worried something bad would happen to them…?

And why cover it up?

“More tea dear?” Slythley said out of the blue, holding a bone china teapot up politely. Charlotte blinked glancing down at the untouched now cold tea sitting before her on the table.

“Oh, um… no thank you.” Charlotte replied. The conversation dwindled into a comfortable silence.

Well, what are you waiting for? Ask her your questions.

Uh….

And be subtle…

Right…

“Miss Slythley?” Charlotte piped up. “What do you think of King Asgore?”

The snake woman’s polite smile wilted, her eyes focusing on Charlotte’s face.

What the- how is THAT subtle greenie!? The old snake  lowered her teacup to the table.

“Why do you ask dearie?” Slythely asked. Charlotte ducked her head.

“I-I dunno… I mean—“ Charlotte ran a hand over her hair. “I see him on the news all the time… But I don’t really know anything about him…”  The snake studied Charlotte’s blushing face for a long moment. Then she sighed.

“King Asgore is a complicated man. As I’m sure you’re aware.” Slythely said.

The hell are you doing Greenie?

You already tried being sneaky. Let me try being honest…

 “I don’t mean to offend you or anything ma’am. It’s just that, well…” Charlotte suppressed a shudder, looking into her untouched tea. “He frightens me.”

“Why that’s—“The snake woman began but seemed to think better of it and shut her mouth. She frowned, regarding the human,  then dropped her eyes to the side.

“That’s…That’s…understandable…” Slythely muttered. She let out a deep sigh and began running her fingers through Charlotte’s long hair. “You have to understand… He wasn’t always this…frightening—as you call it.”

Charlotte lifted her eyes, surprised at the admission. She’d expected the monster to defend the king adamantly or at least to brush off her fears as ridiculous.

“What do you mean?” she prodded.

“When I was a girl, the kingdom was full of hope. Certainly, we were still imprisoned under the earth, but there was a sense of…optimism for the future. Nowhere was that hopefulness more pronounced than in household of the royal family.” Slythely smiled ruefully.
“What…what happened?”

“Bad things, child.” Slythely muttered, squeezing Charlotte a little closer. “Bad things…” Charlotte steeled herself, worried about what would come next. “We really—we don’t speak of it… but after that, the king…lost his way. He grew colder…more cynical.

Charlotte stiffened, trying to remain patient. Slithely was clearly withholding the full explanations, being careful of her words.

“He changed. And lady Asgore—the queen—she didn’t much like the man he was turning into. She left him, abdicating her throne and leaving him alone… After that, well…everything just went downhill from there.” Slythely glanced at Charlotte.

“Whatever you may hear my dear—please…You mustn’t judge him too harshly. Being hurt can make a person do things they wouldn’t otherwise have done.” She ran her fingers through charlotte’s hair, absently. “He’s…he really has been trying, and for a while I really believed he’d managed to turn things around. But…with recent events…things have not been easy for him.” The slit eyes regarded Charlotte. “My dear…can you possibly understand that?”

She didn’t. But Charlotte found herself nodding anyway, giving her best encouraging smile. The snake sniffled, and returned it.

############################################################33

The road home seemed a lot longer than when she’s come. Slythely had offered to walk them to the bus stop but Red had settled for directions back to the main road. They ought to have taken her up on the offer. By the time they reached the bus stop, the last bus had already come and gone. Disappointed, charlotte began following the road dismally. There would be another bus stop eventually. She tried to process everything she’d learned. Which honestly wasn’t much. But it felt like a lot. She didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t know yet if she thought Asgore to be a murder or a victim of circumstance. But what she did know was that something terrible had happened. Something that had troubled monster-kind deeply. Something that they worked to keep hidden from humanity. Something big. Now Charlotte had to walk that long road alone. Impartial as always. And more conflicted now than when she had started.  Then came the rain.

Four hours in the rain, plus a ten minute bus trip and Charlotte was crawling into bed, a sniffling frozen mess.

Can’t get warm. I’m going to be sick in the morning. I know it.

Yech…You’re already sick greenie. I can feel your nose running. Nasty.

Despite the coldness, Charlotte thought she could sense a little nervousness from the voice. Charlotte didn’t reply to Red.  She just curled up under the blankets cradling her throbbing head. Eventually she got out her phone and sent a text to Dave, letting him know she was ill, and probably wouldn’t make it to work the following morning. She received a text back, from Dave, letting her know it was alright to take the day off to recover.

Then she sent a text to papyrus, letting him know that she wasn’t feeling well and that his ‘super-meta-movie-marathon of friendship’ he’d planned for tomorrow night was probably a no go. Then she curled in on herself and closed her eyes. Her phone buzzed several times more after that.  But she didn’t hear it. She was already asleep.

##################################################################################3

Aaaaand another chapter bites the dust!

(Say, I wonder if that song is offensive to monsters? What with the references to mass killings and dust and all. Might have to work that bit of awkwardness in later…)

I’m gonna explain this thing since, 1: because I don’t think it will ever be explained to Charlotte. And 2: its probably the cutest thing ever and IMO and I need to share it with the world.

Soooo…

For those of you who haven’t already guessed; the part where Sylthely is describing seeing a human for the first time is a description of her watching them try to give Babycakes Chara a flu shot.

Forgive me. I love double meanings. If you haven’t noticed. Double meanings, horrific implications, misunderstandings—you name it.

 Especially since out of context—that image of the king pinning the struggling child down while they scream and swear, while a steely faced stranger looks on— comes off as extremely sinister and creepy.

While in context, that image fills me with so much feels and cootness that I can barely stand it. XD (and since it takes place before Chara fell off the cuckoo-clock  and subsequently still had feels like a normalish little kid makes it so much sweeter in my mind. )

The idea of Goatdad, frazzled and unused to dealing with a troubled daughter (Asriel seems like an easy kid. Obedient, goody two shoes) trying—and failing to hold Little Chara down, so the doctor can work is so adorable to me. Especially since she kept wiggling free and kicking him in the face or biting him. Poor goat dad….so put upon.

Damn…somebody draw that fluffy crap for me. I need more cootness in my life. XD

 EDIT:  Now with illustrations for this chapter. 

Chapter Text

AN:

 I’m cranking this short one out pretty quick tonight. I’ve had most of it written on my phone for a while now so It was really just a matter of fine tuning it.

Hope you enjoy this one. Things are going to start moving a bit faster after this one.

I’m excited.

Here’s something coot. Have at it.

##############################################################################

Chapter 14: Deadly Mercy

It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining, birds were singing—

And they wouldn’t shut the hell up .

Charlotte let out a moan, and pulled the covers up over her face, trying to block out the golden light streaming in from her bedroom window. She had passed a rough night, slipping in and out of feverish dreams. It was early. Her head swam. Too early. It was too damn early to be awake.

She was just about to drift back off into another spell of dreams when something prodded her arm. Charlotte ignored it. The prodding came again, this time a little harder. Charlotte groaned, turning over. It was Probably Az wanting his breakfast. She felt the prod again hand swatted at it feebly. Her fingers made contact with something hard. Charlotte paused.

Whuh…?

She pulled the covers away from her face, instantly regretting it when the bright light stabbed her eyes. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, blinking sleepily.

A wide grinning skull floated into her vision. A skull encircled with a wreath of golden flowers. Her brows furrowed.

“Heya.”

Charlotte screamed shooting up so fast she nearly head-butted the skeleton right in the face.

Sans stumbled back. There was a crash and a flurry of obscenities.

Charlotte’s eyes darted around, taking in the incongruent scene before her. But it made absolutely no sense.  Sans. Sans was standing at the foot of her bed, clutching his chest where his heart would have been. His hoodie was partially wet and he gaped at her with in surprise. There was a blue glow in one of the sockets. Charlotte followed the glow with her eyes, up. Until she saw a vase of flowers floating haphazardly in the air, frozen as if they’d been thrown into the air and caught mid-fall.

She stared.

“S…Sans?”

“What th’ hell kiddo!” he snapped, eye sockets wide. Charlotte gaped back, her head throbbing with the strain.

“How did you—what are you doing here..?” She mumbled. The skeleton scowled.

“Whadaya mean what am I doing here? Pap dragged me outta bed at the crack o’ dawn to pop  over here and check on ya because apparently his ‘Tiny-human-friend’ was on her last leg.” He growled, righting the vase of flowers and setting them on the bedside table. He eyed her dubiously. “Why are you so surprised? He said you knew I was comin?”

Charlotte blinked, shaking her head slowly. She glanced at her cellphone and winced. 15 texts from papyrus and 3 unheard voicemails. Oh. Right…

“Sorry… I was kind of out of it last night…” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. It felt like a rat’s nest of tangles, and she could only imagine how bad it looked. “How did you….how did you get in?”

“Shortcut.” Sans gruffed. He stuck his hands in his pockets, regarding her.

“Oh…okay…” she mumbled, laying back down. Too drowsy to think about everything wrong with that explanation. She yawned, eyes turning towards the flowers. She smiled softly. Sans shifted.

“Pap told me you were supposed to give flowers to sick humans. Said he read it in some human etiquette book. Keeps tryin to get me to read em too.” Sans looked down his nose at her. “Th’ flower thing legit?”

Charlotte nodded drowsily. She forced herself to turn over so that she could see the flowers more clearly.

“Daffodils…” she muttered.

“Come again?”

“Oh... That’s what we call them.”

“hm.” Sans grunted. “We always just called em’ ‘yellow flowers’. But tibia honest, our king never was the best with names…”

Charlotte leaned over to smell them. She paid Sans a warm smile. He shifted, looking away from her.

“Thank you. How did you know that I loved Daffodils?”

“Just a hunch…” he paid her a sideways glance.

“My mom always had them in her garden when I was growing up. Said they always brightened things up…” she was rambling now, and Sans fidgeted before coming to sit awkwardly at the foot of her bed.

“Heh…that’s great bud.” He leaned back. “Heh, I would’ve brought ya a bouquet of Thyme but the florist was fresh out.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Buh….how come?” The skeleton winked.

“Haven’t ya heard kiddo? Thyme heals all wounds!”  He let out a deep chuckle at this. Charlotte blinked absently, then started laughing deliriously.

“Thyme…heh… Hahahaha…” she closed her eyes. “You…you did a pun…”

“You uh… you okay?” Sans was starting to sweat a little, eyes darting to the door. He had literally no knowledge of human sicknesses. But babbling like an idiot didn’t seem like a good sign.  “I can get pap if you-“The human forced herself upright in bed, smiling drowsily at the skeleton.

“Hey…ya wanna know somethin?” she mumbled. “Lots of flowers have meanings attached to em. So…so you gotta be careful which ones you pick…” the human swayed slightly, like she may fall over. Sans forced a pained grin.

“Y’don’t say…”

Lilies are for new birth…daisies are for cheerfulness…” Charlotte held up her fingers, squinting as she named off each flower she could think of. “Red roses—those mean romantic love. Pink roses are more for like, crushes…oh, and yellow roses are platonic…”

“Heh…you humans gotta make everything so damn complicated don’t ya…? “Sans ran a hand over his skull, averting his eyes. “So tell me kiddo… what humiliating hidden message did I just accidentally send you? If it’s a marriage proposal or an aphrodisiac then forget it, I don’t wanna know.” He chuckled, eyes darting nervously.

Charlotte blinked several times, trying to focus her blurry eyes on the skeleton’s sweaty face.

“Whuh….?”

“The ‘daffy-dills’ kid—what do they mean?”

“ohh…” She nodded drunkenly. “Daffodils stand for Mercy..”

The skeleton stiffened, eyes trailing up to frown at her.

“And…why th’ hell do they mean Mercy kid?” Sans rumbled.

“Umm….” Charlotte squinted, thinking hard. “I think its cuz…cuz they’re deadly.” She shrugged.

Sans stared at her, then shook his head and got to his feet.

“I think you need to lay back down kiddo. Don’t think yer getting enough oxygen to the brain...” he moved awkwardly to help her lie down but she swatted feebly at him.

“noh noh…for reals… my mom told me about it.” she mumbled. “it was like—a long time ago during this war—people used to give daffodil bulbs to soldier going into battle.” She nodded to herself absently, eyes barely open at this point. “the petals are poisonous, but the bulb itself is supposed to be deadly. It was given to em as like…a mercy. You know, a way out incase something happened. Like if they were injured on the battle field and there was nobody around to help them. Or like…if they were so hurt that nobody could fix them.”

Sans frowned down at her but kept silent.

“So the bulbs are a mercy cuz they gave em a way out. Y’know, if it got too painful to keep living. It was something they could control…y’know.”

“Control…” Sans repeated, clenching and unclenching his fists. He frowned at the woman. She barely seemed to realize he was there anymore, looking as though she might fall asleep at any moment.

“How come you don’t like me?” she mumbled out of the blue. Her brows knit up with drowsy concern. “I try so hard t’ be nice to you.” she tried to poke him weakly in the chest but missed. “But you never ‘be nice back…’”

Sans squinted at the human, realizing she had no idea where she was or what was happening anymore.

“Sorry kid…” he muttered tiredly. When he glanced back at her she was asleep. He smiled slightly, when he heard her snoring, soft and unlady-like. He plucked one of the yellow buds from the bouquet, turning it around thoughtfully in his fingers.

“Deadly mercy huh?” he growled softly. Then He leaned over and put the flower in the rats-nest that was her hair. He studied his handiwork dubiously before sighing. “Looks good on ya.”

He rose and left the room without another word.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Green Tears

“Oh. So that’s a Mettaton…” Charlotte squinted thoughtfully at the rolling credits on the Skeleton brothers TV screen. 

Papyrus quivered happily. He’d finally gotten her to come over to watch one of his favorite movies— ‘Breakfast at Mettaton’s’. It seemed to be about a tall handsome robotic monster who falls in love with a human that moves into the apartment across from his, but is kept apart due to prejudice from an evil king...or something like that. The movie was….interesting. It seemed to be a strange amalgamation of every classical romance Charlotte had ever seen. In the third act, the robot inexplicably burst into song and dance, crooning a heartbreaking pop ballad about true love. At that point Charlotte was extremely confused. When did this become a musical? 

The film made little sense, but Charlotte found that she enjoyed it anyway. Maybe it was the complete lack of cynicism and self-awareness to it that most movies had nowadays. The characters delivered corny lines with perfect sincerity. It was refreshing. Sort of like Papyrus.

Speaking of the skeleton. Charlotte had started out curled on the big squashy sofa, Doggie in her lap. Papyrus sat beside her, arm draped over the top of the sofa. As the movie went on, he kept scooting closer and closer to her, until bout halfway in he actually put his arms around the human and pulled her into his lap. Moments later he had his arms around her middle, jawbone rested softly on the top of her head. A little later and he actually started petting her hair like a dog.

If any other guy had tried something like this Charlotte probably would have slapped them. But Papyrus was just so innocent. She knew there was nothing lewd about the gesture, and the affection that rolled off of him was just so genuine that she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint. So she let herself relax, cuddling in and making herself comfortable. Papyrus seemed to take every opportunity he could to touch her. She’d noticed that during the first week she’d known him. He was always so eager. As if he was starved for physical contact.

The opposite could be said of his brother Sans, who avoided contact with her as though she had some sort of deadly disease. He’s sat down in an easy chair across the room, where he could keep an eye socket on the goings-ons on the sofa. Charlotte tried to ignore it. It had been two weeks since their first meeting and the shorter skeleton had yet to warm up to her. But ever since he’d visited her when she was sick, he seemed to be making an effort not to throw her quite so many disgusted looks when she was around—or at least that’s what Charlotte told herself.

Papyrus gave her a squeeze peeking eagerly down at her face.

“WELL…WHAT DID YOU THINK….?”

“He’s got legs.” Charlotte said, before thinking it through. Sans let out a scoffing laugh. She flushed and quickly explained. “I-I mean… a friend of mine told me that he used to not have any… And that he used to go by a different name. Hapsta-something… I was just, er… surprised is all..” Sans snorted derisively at went back to sipping from a Heinz ketchup bottle.  Papyrus nyeh heh heh’ed.

“THE LEGS ARE NEW HUMAN!”  Papyrus swelled slightly with—pride? “HE’S GOT THE SEXIEST LEGS IN THE UNDERGROUND!”

Sans let a sputtering cough, choking. The little lights in his eyes had shrunk to the size of pinpricks.  Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up. She stared.

“O-oh…?” she cleared her throat. “Who…who says that?”

“HE DID! ON HIS SHOW LAST WEEK!” Papyrus declared. IT MEANS THEYRE MORE HIGH TECH NOW, I BELIEVE…”

Charlotte relaxed, glancing in Sans’ direction. The smaller skeleton had his face in his hand, a blue glow trickling out from between his fingers.

“Heh…right…” Sans took a deep breath. “Cuz before that he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Now he’s really crippling th’ entertainment industry.” He peeked out between his fingers. “Heh…Welp… I’m goin’ to work…” without a word he vanished into thin air.

Since her visit to Mrs. Slythely, her investigation of Frisk’s death and the six humans’ souls had gone dry. She hadn’t had any more leads and was too nervous to flat out ask Sans and Papyrus about it. Knowing Sans, He’d grow suspicious and lie to her and her curiosity would likely undo any headway she’d made in befriending him. And Papyrus—she couldn’t bring herself to upset him again by Talking about Frisk.

“SO UM… YOU NEVER REALLY ANSWERED MY QUESTION…” Papyrus pressed, tucking his chin so he could peer down at the human. “DID YOU ENJOY THE MOVIE?”  Charlotte grinned and gave his knee a little pat.

“I really did. It was uh, real different than anything I’d ever seen before—b-but in a good way though!” she assured. Papyrus seemed to brighten at this.

“THEY’RE A SEQUAL TOO! ‘METTATON HOLIDAY!’  NEXT TIME I GO TO THE LIBRARBY I’LL CHECK IT OUT SO WE CAN WATCH IT TOGETHER!”

Charlotte got up, setting the dog aside. Her nose wrinkled.

“You mean… Library?”

“NO NO, TINY HUMAN! OUR LIBRARY BACK IN SNOWDIN WAS CALLED THE ‘LIBRARBY’ THEY RELOCATED TOPSIDE A FEW WEEKS AGO—“Papyrus explained, standing as well. Charlotte squinted turning this new information around in her head. A monster library? With monster books? Red stirred, growing interested in the conversation for the first time in hours. Red and Charlotte’s soul shifted as if they were exchanging looks.

Interesting…

 “NOW WE CAN ENJOY EVERYONES FAVORITE SEXY RECTANGLE WITHOUT HAVING TO TRAVEL ALL THE WAY BACK HOME!” Papyrus declared striking a heroic pose. Charlotte winced internally at the word ‘sexy.’ Papyrus was an adult an all (she guessed..?) but hearing something like that from his mouth was like hearing a two year old dropping the f-bomb. It felt…jarring somehow. She cleared her throat.

“That’s great! But uh..” charlotte shifted, running a hand through her hair.” Papyrus… you know that Sexy really doesn’t mean high tech…r-right?” Papyrus’ eye-sockets widened innocently. And Charlotte felt her face flush. Oh bollocks. He really didn’t.

“IT DOESN’T? BUT THEN WHAT DOES IT MEAN?”

Red snickered.

Couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Could you? Charlotte swallowed. How was she supposed to explain this?

“It’s um… it means like…very attractive—but more.” She muttered, avoiding eye contact.

“VERY ATTRACTIVE BUT MORE…?”

“Yeah… um. It’s…its nothing bad… but Its…. Kind of a really… flirty thing to say about someone. A-and if that’s not what you’re um… meaning to say… then well..” she risked a peek up at him, face practically glowing in the dark from embarrassment.

The smiley trashbag is gonna kill you if he finds out you’re giving the sex talk to his baby brother. You know that right?

Shush! I-I’m…I’m not…!

Papyrus stared at her face for a long moment. Then he sat down on the sofa. Elbows on his knees, skull propped up under his hands. Charlotte rocked on her feet, awkwardly. A dismal mood entered the room. Charlotte stiffened. 

“YOU MUST THINK I’M PRETTY… FOOLISH….HUH HUMAN..?” He sighed, looking at his feet.

“What?!—no! o-of course not!” Charlotte gasped. Papyrus let out a soft, nyeh heh heh, his big red heels clicking together dully.

“I’VE BEEN GOING AROUND LIKE A FOOL SAYING ‘SEXY’ THIS AND ‘SEXY’ THAT EVERY SINCE METTATON SAID IT ON HIS SHOW. AND NOT A SINGLE PERSON EVER BOTHERED TO CORRECT ME…” Papyrus’ cheekbones began to glow a soft orange color. He avoided her eyes.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Charlotte muttered, feeling awful. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb or anything…I just…” she hung her head. Seconds later, she felt his fingers scrit gently against her scalp.

“NO…THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME.” He reassured with a sign. “NOBODY EVER BOTHER TO TELL ME ANYTHING… THEY ALL THINK I’M TOO…STUPID AND IMMATURE TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING…” Charlotte frowned up at him.

“Nobody thinks you’re stupid Papyrus. Everyone—everyone loves you…” She found herself saying. Truth be told, she didn’t know how other monsters really felt about Papyrus—she’d only ever spent time around him and his brother. But Papyrus was so nice, so genuine—she couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him. Papyrus shook his head slowly.

“EVEN SANS THINKS I’M TOO DUMB TO HANDLE ANYTHING…”  he muttered miserably. Charlotte moved over to sit down across the skeleton’s lap and began stroking his cheekbone comfortingly. It was a weird gesture. Charlotte realized this. But it was the right one.  Papyrus instantly melted at the contact, wrapping both arms around her and burying his big face into her hair.

“Shh… shh… you know that’s not true… Sans loves you..” She muttered soothingly.

“THERES….theres something wrong with my brother…” papyrus began to ‘whisper’, his voice miserable and broken.

“What do you mean…?” Charlotte whispered. Papyrus didn’t answer right away, sniffling into her shoulder.

“He’s…he’s different now… S-sadder… and he has these—t-terrible nightmares…” papyrus’ voice grew even quieter, and charlotte felt her shoulder soak through with tears. She stroked his cheeks, shushing softly. “H-he pretends nothing’s wrong… think’s I don’t notice…but I do…”

Papyrus began to shake.

“S-something’s wrong…I-I’m scared…” His grip on her grew tighter, more deseperate. Charlotte felt tears welling up in her own eyes. She had never heard the skeleton sound so broken…”W-why…? Why won’t he tell me?” Charlotte closed her eyes.

“You know Sans…He probably just doesn’t want to worry you with his problems.”

“I-I’m not stupid…” Papyrus whispered. “I know he thinks I’m not smart enough to understand…B-but I c-can! I’m not too s-stupid and innocent to handle it! I-I…I can help…I really can…”

“Maybe he just doesn’t know what to say...” Charlotte whispered. Papyrus whimpered.

“I-It just hurts. Seeing him like this… knowing h-he won’t let me h-help..I just…love him so much.”

“And he knows that.” Charlotte gave him another squeeze then she took Papyrus’ skull between her hands and tried to move it back. Papyrus conceded letting her guide his face back so that they were eye to eye. “You make him happy. I can tell. He loves you very much.” Big orange blobs of liquid rolled over her hands. The jaw beneath her palms trembled. She smiled, expression mirroring his own. “I think that you’re doing a great job looking after him. I really mean that.”

Papyrus’ dark sockets studied her, deeply…hopingly. Then his tears ran green. His mask of sorrow broke into a warm smile. He laughed softly, scooping her up into his arms.

“Y-you too…” he whispered into her hair. “Y-you too…”

Charlotte wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she sank into his hug anyway. Eventually Papyrus put her down, wandering into the kitchen. He patted his eyesockets with a dishtowel, sniffling softly.

“Lazybones…” He breathed softly, reaching over and picked up a plastic Tupperware of spaghetti from the counter. “He’s gone and left his lunch again…terrible…he’s always forgetting things…always…”

“Poor Sans…” Charlotte patted Papyrus’ hand, gaining his attention. She smiled. “What would he do without such an amazing brother as the Great Papyrus around to look after him?”

More tears. More…green tears? Papyrus let out a laugh that warmed her to her toes.

“S-SUFFER I GUESS?” He mused, smiling. Charlotte patted his hand.

“He certainly would.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: In Regards to the Unicorn in the Room

I’ll be damned…

The entire section. The entire shelf of books regarding the last 50 years of monster history. Gone. Nada. Zilch.  Only a big empty gap on the shelves. Charlotte clenched her fists. After leaving Papyrus’ apartment, Charlotte had tracked down this ‘Librarby’ to see if any of the books could give her an idea as to what had happened to make the king go off the deep end. She’d checked the card catalog twice—three times to make sure the reference was right. She had. But someone else had gotten to them first.

Charlotte groaned massaging her temples. When Papyrus told her about the monster library, she’d gotten her hopes up. It was her first breakthrough in two weeks. An entire library of knowledge. Surely it could tell her something? The whole shelf. Damn. The entire section on recent underground historical events was cleaned out. They hadn’t even reshelved yet—so the section was still mockingly, disappointingly empty.

Well. They certainly know how to cover their tracks. Don’t they?

“Miss Human?” A paw fell onto Charlotte’s shoulder and she jumped. A hulking yellow monster with a face like a rhinoceros squinted down at her through tiny round spectacles.

Charlotte blinked, then her eyes darted around the room. She’d been so eager about coming here that she hadn’t noticed the stares. Several monsters were seated at tables. A few wandered the aisles. Each and every one was staring at her. A few tried to be subtle about it, peering over the tops of their books or from the corners of their eyes. Others just gawked, with their mouths slightly open as if a unicorn had just waltzed in and started perusing the aisles.

A unicorn would probably cause less of a stir, you realize.

Charlotte ignored Red and turned to the monster, putting on her best unassuming smile.

“Y-yes ma’am?” it was a ‘ma’am’ wasn’t it? It sure sounded female…

“You seem a bit…lost…” The rhinoceros woman said slowly. The implication was there—beneath a veil of civility. What the hell was a human doing wandering around a monster library? What was a human doing on the monster side of town for that matter? The monster studied her, eyes softening somewhat at the sheepish look on Charlotte’s face.  “Is there… anything in particular that I can help you find, young human?”

Don’t you dare Greenie. The words came so reproachful and sudden that Charlotte winced. The expression apparently did not go unnoticed because the Rhinoceros woman took a few steps backwards and hunched over—trying to make herself seem smaller. Charlotte didn’t even notice.

Nobody needs to know what we’re looking for. Least of all some nosey librarian that might ask question.

Right…

“It’s alright Miss Human. You are very welcome here.” The Rhinoceros monster smiled kindly. “We just don’t get very many visitors from eh— your neck of the woods.”  Charlotte nodded, quick to reassure her.

“Was there something in particular you were hoping to find? We don’t have a very wide selection I’m afraid, but I’m sure we can find you something.” She winked.

Greenie I swear…Don’t…

“Oh! Um, thank you ma’am. But I’ve already found what I was looking for.” Charlotte quickly grabbed a random book from the shelf and held it up with a smile. “Here it is! I-I think I’m ready to check out now!”

The monster’s eyes slid to the cover of the book and she let out a choking snort, quickly covering her mouth with a hand.

“I…I see…hm…” The monster said crisply. Her face glowed yellow. “R-right this pfft—right this way young Miss...” She retreated behind the desk. The human blinked.

Why was she…

Charlotte turned the book over. Her face burned. The cover featured two monsters, sporting oddly 70's looking haircuts. They were sitting up next to each other in a king sized bed wearing looks of comical bewilderment. The bed was surrounded by little black question marks in a disparity of sizes. The title sat in big gold letters at the bottom.

'How to do the DO;
A practical guide for young monsters’

Red started snickering. Bouncing around off of Charlotte’s ribs like a pinball. The Librarian monster flipped through some papers at the front desk, looking as though she was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Charlotte grimaced.

“Ah. Here we are…Since you’re a first time visitor we will need to get you fixed up with a new library card.” The librarian said “Let me just…get you some—snrk paperwork…” the librarian gave another polite grin then retreated into the back.

Least she’s not walking on eggshells with you anymore.  Charlotte covered her eyes, groaning softly.

Never. I am never coming in here again, so long as I live…

Whatever…

Red shifted into control and ducked around to the other side of the librarian’s desk. Charlotte started.

Hey! What are you doing?

Shush.

Red grabbed the big log book from drawer and began flipping through it.

You’re gonna get us into trouble! What are you doing?!

Red ignored her flicking through until she came to a stop on a page. She jabbed it triumphantly with her finger.

Guess who? Charlotte scanned the page, frown deepening. It was are record of which books had been checked out and by whom. This page appeared to be about the missing history section.

“The following items have been removed from the public domain and have been subsequently relocated to his Royal Highness King Asgore’s private library Located at the Southside Embassy on Freedom Blvd.” There was a list of at least 40 different titles.

Son of a bitch…

“Ah! Here we are!”

Red slammed the book shut and put it back just as the Monster returned with a stack of papers. Charlotte felt the blood run from her face. When the Librarian noticed that Charlotte was standing at the desk, she paused, glancing around in confusion. When her eyes fell on Charlotte, crouching down behind the front desk she stared. Charlotte stared back. Not even sure how she was going to explain this one. The librarian cast a glance around the room. All eyes were trained on the place where Charlotte had been. A few monsters had stood up, craning their necks to try and see what the hell the human was doing hiding back there. The librarian sucked in her cheeks.

“Don’t you all have books to be reading?” she said sharply. All head hastily turned away, eyes focusing back on pages and shelves. The librarian tutted, she knelt down next to Charlotte, studying her pensively.

 “Do you like candies young human?” the librarian said out of the blue. “I’ve got lots of monster candies in my office. I’ve got everything you need to start your account with us right back here. Lets—lets get you some candies…” Charlotte found herself being pulled to her feet and half-carried hastily into the librarian’s office. She was set on a big chair, presented with the paperwork, as well as a handful of brightly wrapped candies, the color and consistency of salt water taffy. Before Charlotte could say a word the librarian had patted her shoulder and stormed off out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Charlotte could hear the Librarians reproachful voice through the heavy door. She could make out a few of the words here and there.

“—THINK THIS IS FEEDING TIME AT THE ZOO?!—AUGHT TO BE ASHAMED—“

Charlotte ran a hand over her burning face. Listening in mortification as the librarian scolded the other patron for ‘frightening the poor little human’ with their ‘slack-jawed goggling.’ Charlotte began filling out her information guiltily. When she was finished she popped one of the candies into her mouth. It was striped pink and cream—and it tasted just like Cherries Jubilee.

Bollocks…

How are they all so kind?

Eventually the Librarian returned, looking slightly flushed but smiling nonetheless. She took Charlotte’s forms and looked over them thoughtfully.

“Come back tomorrow, Miss hu- eh…” she scanned the form. “Miss Fox. And we’ll have that card ready for you. You’ll be checking out books in no time!” Charlotte thanked her. When she went back out into the main room not a single eye was on her. In fact they all seemed to be doing their best to ignore her completely. She wandered out into the street.

Hey Greenie?

What is it…?

Do we still have that leftover spaghetti Papyrus gave us the other day? Charlotte squinted.

Uh…yeah I think so. In the fridge. Why?

Sans forgot his lunch this morning didn’t he? Charlotte paused, eyes widening. Sans worked for the king didn’t he? At the—

Red smirked.

I was thinking maybe we could make a little delivery to the embassy. Y’know. So the smiley trash bag doesn’t go hungry and all... What say you?

Charlotte felt a rush of hope. She grinned pulling up her hood and heading out into the streets.  

Red, I was thinking the exact same thing.

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Greaaaaat. So we’ve gone from visiting a local library to plotting to infiltrate a government building for secret records in—what?—1000 words or less?  Oh this’ll be fun…

This is a short one. I wanted to keep it separated from the next one since a lot is about to go down. I don’t want it to be too long. ;)

Chapter Text

AN: another short one before things start going down. Sorry if this is going slow. It’s coming a lot slower than expected. Normally I plot things out pretty straightforward. Point A to Point B. But whenever I start writing these characters I can’t help but want to linger a little longer with them, and really enjoy their world and interactions. So what should have taken like two or three chapters has taken a lot more… ooops!

So without any more stalling, here’s my next chapter.

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Chapter 17: Foot in the Door

The embassy was an old redbrick chapel near the edge of the border. It had once been a rather spacious church building that had stood empty for many years. When the monsters had emerged from Mount Ebbot, they bought up the land and repurposed the building as a permanent diplomatic mission for King Dreemurr’s monarchy.

However, the king did not foresee the overwhelming negative response he received from the humans; when he’d decided to repurpose a house of worship into a government facility. There was an absolute uproar. Some people were convinced that this was all some kind of cheap shot at their religious beliefs. Others even claimed it as a sign of the anti-Christ. During the first few weeks of construction, several local church groups picketed outside of the building and the embassy received numerous threats and cases of petty vandalism.  

When asked why they chose such a controversial location, Ambassador Frisk had come forward, admitting that she: ‘Liked the pretty stained glass windows, and thought the church would be big enough to work.’  King Asgore confessed to liking the windows as well—claiming that the layout of the building was similar to a criminal justice building they had back home known as ‘Judgement Hall’. He had not realized this particular building had any philosophical importance to humanity when he made the purchase. He apologized, but questioned ‘If this building held such a high regard with the local humans, why had they abandoned it? And was it in such a state of disrepair when he acquired it?’

 Several congregations bristled at the king’s insinuation, however the negative press all but died down shortly after. The majority of locals realizing that the choice had not been a conscious power-play by the monsters, but rather the naïve blunder of an inexperienced Ambassador. From then on, construction went off without a hitch. And the old churchhouse slowly transformed into an impressive structure once again. There was no permanent sign to identify the building yet, but the property was marked with many large purple and white flags baring the delta rune—the Royal Crest of the Dreemurr family.

Charlotte felt an ever growing weight on her chest as she approached, peering up at the numerous flags Aster flags.

Hey Red, I’m not so sure I like this plan anymore…

Not getting cold feet now are you? What happened to uncovering the truth?

Yeah, but… Sneaking into a government building is kind of…excessive.

Pfft. Excessive? In what way?

In the ‘rotting in a federal prison until we’re older than that turtle guy’—kind of way.

We’re not going to get arrested Greenie. We’ve  got an airtight alibi. Relax.

Yeah, and another thing… Do you think it’s right for us to be snooping like this? I mean it’s not really any of our business…

Was it right for the king to do what he did to those children?

Well no… But we don’t have any concrete proof that he actually did anything wrong.

You can’t be this naïve Greenie. We already know he’s hiding something big.                

I know, but what if it’s not what you think?

What if it’s exactly what I think?

Charlotte had no rebuttal. Sure, she’d thought this was a great idea when they’d first come up with it. But it had been just that—an idea. Now that she was standing on the Embassy grounds, she couldn’t shake the worry, the feeling that she was about to have a bad time.

Two large figures in full medieval armor stood watch before the front doors. Each wore a sword around their waist, longer than Charlotte was tall. However one had what appeared to be blue bunny ears protruding from the top of his helmet—that kind of dampened the whole ‘intimidating gatekeeper’ vibe a bit. They were huddled close together their hands almost touching.  It took Charlotte a moment to realize she’d been staring. She shook herself out of it.

They’re kind of blocking the doors. Should I try to find another way in? She questioned. Red was already ‘shaking her head’ so to speak.

It’ll look more suspicious if they see you sneaking around for an open window. Just try talking to them. Tell them about the lunch thing. Maybe they’ll let you pass.

Of course. Why didn’t I think of that…?

Charlotte took a deep breath steeling herself. Then slowly—very slowly—the human approached. She tried to keep her head up pretending like she was supposed to be there. But she felt her confidence waning as she drew nearer to the formidable pair of guards. She thinned her lips, trying to work out what to say.

The bunny guard  was the first to notice her standing there. They instantly straightening, yanking both his and his companion’s hands behind his back. He gave his companion a subtle nudge in the ribs and he too stood tall and erect, peering down at the woman.

“Um…hi,” charlotte mumbled raising a hand to wave lamely. The guards regarded her. She could have sworn she saw  the white eye lights in the second guard’s helmet dart nervously.

“Oh…uh…H-hey…” The bunny cleared his throat. There it was again. Nervousness with a hint of embarrassment.  Charlotte bit her lip and took another advancing step.

“I was uh…hoping to go inside?”

The guards exchanged glances.

“Sure… uh…just one moment.” The bunny guard let out a cough. “And we’ll like…get out of your way…” He paid his companion a meaningful look. The other nodded slightly. Then the bunny guard stepped to the left, while his companion stepped to the right. There was a pained yip and the two came clunking back together.

“Sorry bro! I’m so sorry!” The bunny guard winced.

“You yanked it man! I thought we were following me! ” The second guard whined. “It’s like stuck in between the finger joints!”

“I didn’t mean to! I-“ The bunny guard cast Charlotte a glance before lowering his voice. “I didn’t hurt you too bad did I?” His companion shook a woeful head.

Charlotte moved a little closer, finally getting a good look at what the bunny guard had been concealing. A thin pink thread was looped around their fingers, connecting them. From this angle it looked as though the two guards had been play a game of cat’s cradle.

On closer inspection it appeared that the string had been tangled into an unmanageable mess. Charlotte stared. At this point both guards were actively avoiding eye contact, their faces aglow 9charlotte could see the light trickling out from the holes in their masks.) The bunny guard began hastily trying to get the strings untangled while his companion let out a shudder, armor rattling.

“Are you…okay?” Charlotte asked slowly. The bunny guard flushed further and instantly abandoned his attempts.  His companion’s helmeted forehead clunked down to rest on his shoulder. They let out a forlorn moan.

“Cap’in’s gonna totes dust us for this…”

Charlotte looked between them, still confused as to exactly what had happened. From what she could gather, they’d gotten their cat’s cradle strings stuck in between the hinges and finger joints of their armor and couldn’t seem to free themselves from it. They cast her embarrassed glances, not seeming to know how to explain themselves without feeling stupid. Charlotte cleared her throat, then raised a finger.

 “Um… let me just—hang on.” She started digging into her backpack, fishing around through the pockets for something. She heard a’ clu-clunk’ noise and noticed that one of the guards had stooped over to get a better look at what she was doing. “Ah! Here we go!” the human pulled out a pair of fingernail clippers and held It up for their inspection. Both helmeted heads cocked, but they didn’t pull away or try to stop her when she stepped over and began clipping away at the strings. It took a few minutes of clipping and gently pulling away sections of cut string, but eventually she managed to separate them.

“Ha!” Charlotte chirped raising both hands triumphantly. “Voilà!” All at once the human found herself snatched up by a pair of powerful arms and tossed into the air. The arms caught her again seconds later and she was pressed up against a wide armored chest. She blinked, glancing over to see the other guard laughing boisterously at the display.

“Righteous!” he pumped his fists in the air. “Dude! We owe you big time!” Charlotte forced a grin and wiggled a little, trying to free herself from the iron grip. At that moment, she empathized strongly with a can of tuna.

“Yeah, heh—no problem guys…”

Yeah great. Way to go Androcles. Came Red’s irritable voice. Can we GO now?

Red always seemed to get pricklier whenever people showed too much affection towards them. So much so that she tuned out altogether whenever Papyrus was around. Charlotte was beginning to suspect that Red had some problems with being touched.

Right… sorry—

The guard released her and stepped out of the way so that Charlotte could go inside. All questions as to who she was or what her business was seemed to be forgotten.

“Lady dude…” The bunny guard spoke up. “Can you do us like a huge solid and like…NOT tell Captain Undyne about this?” 

“Of course! My lips are sealed!” Charlotte winked crossing her heart with a finger. Even though she had no idea who Captain Undyne was—or why it should matter. Both guards visibly relaxed.

With one final wave, Charlotte headed through the double doors. She was in.

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up next.....

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Don’t Touch Me

Face it Greenie. We’re lost. Charlotte chewed her lip, peering around at the many doors lining the hall, searching for some kind of landmark. She’d been wandering around the embassy for half an hour—avoiding guards, peeking into office windows. If she’d known the place was so massive she would’ve ask those two guard guys for a map or something.

90% of the rooms were numbered instead of providing a name. And there were so many. More than Charlotte had expected. Finding a single room was like trying to find white gloves in a snowstorm. She groaned internally, squinting into another darkened window. She was so distracted she didn’t realize just how long she’d lingered in this particular hallway.

There was a whooshing sound. Charlotte blinked around for the source.  A disk of blue light had appeared on the ground next to Charlotte’s foot. Then another materialized to her left. Then several more scattered about her. Charlotte squinted. Red stiffened.

What…?

FHOOOM!

Charlotte squeaked falling on her backside as spears blue light shot up from the ground, encircling her like a cage.

“FREEZE!” Barked a commanding voice. The spears fizzled out to reveal a tall armored figure charging towards her. Before Charlotte could even begin to comprehend what was happening, the figure was standing over her, a spear tip trained threateningly on her heart. “ON THE GROUND! HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!”

Charlotte was already on the ground. But she scrambled to obey kneeling with her face downcast. The armored figure grunted.

“You are trespassing on private property” they snarled. Charlotte winced.

“Sorry…”  The initial shock was wearing off, and a seed of dread was quickly taking its place. Charlotte had never in her life been in trouble with the law. Hell, she had never even gotten a detention back in high school.  The figure paused, regarding her. They’d clearly expected her to put up more of a fight. After a moment the figure grumbled, shouldering their spear. Charlotte peeked up to see them digging through their armor for something.

“Hey-HEY! Eyes down!” the figure snapped, producing a handful of notecards. Charlotte ducked her head. “Don’t you try nothin! I gotta read you this stupid…” they returned their attention to the cards in their hands, hesitating before they began to read.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to….an…attorney…” The figure trailed off. With a soft grumble they threw the cards over their shoulder. “You know what? SCREW IT!”

The sudden shout caused Charlotte to jump, returning her gaze to the enraged figure before her.

“WHY SHOULD YOU GET TO KEEP QUIET?! WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO PLAY BY YOUR STUPID HUMAN MIRANDA RULES?” The figure threw off their helmet to reveal the face of a scaly blue fish woman with bright red hair. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as the fish woman stomped over to her. Red hardened.  “I CAUGHT YOU SNOOPING AROUND A GOVERNMENT BUILDING WITHOUT A PERMIT! AS OF RIGHT NOW YOU’RE ON MONSTER LAND! YOU FOLLOW OUR LAWS!”

The fish woman grabbed charlotte by the collar and slammed her back first into a nearby wall, pinning her with a disgusted sneer.

Oh bollocks oh bollocks oh bollocks… Charlotte’s vison clouded in pain. At the fish’s touch an intense, dangerous calm began pulsing from Red. Like a bomb ready to go off.

“WELL WELCOME TO OZ PUNK! NONE OF THIS KEEPING QUIET OR DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY CRAP!”  Her grip tightened and she leaned in closer to Charlotte’s face, big yellow eyes boring into Charlotte’s smaller red ones. “YOU’VE BEEN CAPTURED! SO YOU BETTER START TELLIN ME EVERYTHING I WANNA KNOW! YA GOT IT?!”

Pins and needles. Charlotte wanted to cry; wanted to hide. She felt apologies and pleas rising in her throat. But they never came out. Without visible warning. Without restraint. Without so much as a word.

Red reeled back and buried Charlotte’s fist into the monster’s good eye.

The fish released her grip on Charlotte’s collar with a startled grunt. Red wheeled Charlotte around, instantly to face the monster, feet spread; fists raised as if preparing to strike again.

“Don’t touch me bitch…” Red’s voice seethed from Charlotte’s lips. Calm. Cold. Threatening.

Oh bollocks I’m going to jail. That single thought drew Charlotte out of her stupor—and into a state of panic.

Y-YOU! You punched a cop in the eye!

I did.

Whuh… but…WHY would you punch her in the eye!?

Because if I punched her in the mouth I’d have torn up our knuckles on her stupid piranha teeth.

This wasn’t happening. Charlotte couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t deal with this. She’d hit a cop! Her brain kept hitching on that fact like a broken record. She’d hit a cop. She’d hit a cop. She’d hit a cop. The Fish monster looked equally as shocked, mouth open, turning slowly to regard Charlotte. Her shocked expression melted into one of pure rage. Streams of blue lightning began rising from her patched eye. She got to her feet, hefting up her spear and pointing it at Charlotte, looking about ready to murder her. Red thinned her eyes. 

“Listen up lady, I came here to drop this off for a skeleton named Sans. He left his lunch at home this morning" red said coolly shoving the Tupperware in the fish lady’s direction. The monster’s mask of rage twitched slightly at the mention of Sans. Her brows raising. Charlotte wanted to scream, wanted to melt into a puddle and sink down through the floor. Red shoved the Tupperware back into Charlotte’s bag and gave the monster a cold look.

“So if you wanna arrest me for that then go right ahead. But you’d sure as hell better NOT think you can deny me my rights or fling me around like a ragdoll. Got that?”

The fish was silent. Staring at Charlotte with her mouth open. A flicker of rage ignited somewhere deep inside of Charlotte. It was weak, rusty from disuse. But it was Charlotte’s.

Red…Let go of me…

Red faltered.

She's not allowed to threaten you like that. Not allowed to shake you around or deny you your rights. It’s illegal.

I said let go…

Red’s presence began to shake.

That’s bullshit Greenie… She can’t do that! If she’s not going to play by the rules then you shouldn’t be expected to either! She gave up that luxury when she decided to TOUCH ME.

Indignation. Betrayal. Fear…?

I mean it Red… Let go of me.

Another bomb went off inside of her.

You’re such a fucking DOORMAT Greenie! Don’t you let anybody threaten you like that! Got it? Nobody! Least of all some power-mad hall monitor that smells like cheap sushi!

I said LET GO!

Charlotte wrenched. Red let out a tiny shriek. Then she went quiet. Feeling and control slowly seeped its way in. Charlotte raised her eyes to the fish, feeling her rage shrink in on itself. She grimaced.

“I-I…I am so sorry! I…I don’t know what came over me…” Charlotte mumbled sinking to her knees. “O-oh…and you’re n-not a… a ‘B-word’. I uh…S-sorry…” She put her hands behind her head and pointed her eyes at the ground. The fish blinked.

“It’s YOU!” She exclaimed. Charlotte flinched.

“It’s…me?”

“You’re that human Paps dug out of the trash aren’t you?!” The fish declared. Charlotte cringed. At that moment she couldn’t decide what was worse. The fact that she’d just assaulted some kind of monster cop and was probably going to jail, or the fact that Papyrus made a point in telling all his friends that he’d found her in a dumpster like an old toaster. She let out a groan.

“It’s Charlie-somethin, right?” the fish asked.

“Charlotte…”

“Yeah, Charlie-somethin—like I said.” The fish strode over to where Charlotte knelt, regarding her thoughtfully.

“You. You punched me in the eye.” She stated. Charlotte ducked her head farther down.

“I know…I really am sorry—“

“You punched me in the eye.” The fish repeated, letting out a low whistle. She didn’t sound angry.  Just… stunned. Charlotte raised her eyes to squint at the woman.

“Uh…..yes?” Charlotte squeaked. The fish lady threw her head back and laughed.

“FUHUHUHUHUHU! DAMN CHARLIE! YOU MUST HAVE BALLS OF STEEL!” The monster laughed and laughed, showing off sharp plentiful teeth. Charlotte frowned sitting up slowly to stare at the fish. The fish slapped her on the back. “THAT’S GREAT! I DIDN’T THINK ANY OF YOU LOSERS HAD IT IN YOU!” Charlotte squinted.

“Am I…still in trouble?” she asked.

“Naw.” The fish woman grinned, reaching down to pull Charlotte to her feet. The moment Charlotte was standing, the monster put her in a headlock and began noogieing her head roughly. “You little PUNK! You’re supposed to check in at the front desk! Yeesh! I almost shish kabobed your scrawny ass!”  Eventually Charlotte managed to wriggle away, turning around to stare wide-eyed at the fish. The fish extended a hand.

“Names Undyne, punk. Captain Undyne.” The monster’s shark-toothed grin took up nearly half of her face. Charlotte stared. Was this Monster really not mad about Red hitting her? Threatening her?  Charlotte bit her lip before hesitantly taking the hand.

“H-hi…” she peeped. Undyne squeezed her hand, almost painfully.

“Sorry about the whole, throwing you around and threatening you at spear point thing,” said Undyne. “We’ve been getting a lot of threats lately. And with all those monsters going missing I think we’re all on edge around strangers right now.”

Charlotte blinked. Monsters going missing? This was the first she’d heard of it. She logged the information away for later, glancing in Undyne’s direction.

“It’s uh…its fine. I totally understand…” Charlotte said. “You were just…um…doing your job…”

The fish slugged her in the arm and let out another laugh.

“C’mon, let’s get you a visitors pass before you end up putting this place into lock down.” She began leading Charlotte down the hall. They walked in comfortable silence for a long moment. Undyne seemed to be deep in thought, so Charlotte left her alone.

“Security wasn’t always this tight around here. They even disbanded the royal guard for a little while.” Undyne mused. “But after what happened with Frisk… well it doesn’t hurt to be careful.” Charlotte nodded, studying the fish woman.

“So then, you must’ve known Frisk…right?” Charlotte asked.

“Course I did. Everybody knew Frisk.” Undyne scoffed.

“What were they like?” Charlotte asked. She regretted the question the moment it left her mouth. The mood took a nosedive. Undyne snorted, fists clenching ever so slightly.

“She was a little pain in the ass.” Undyne grunted. “Had no regard for the rules, and sure as hell had no respect for authority—that’s for sure. She was always running around with this overinflated sense of importance like ‘ooooh! Look at me! I’m the human! I make the world a better place by hugging random people! Fuhuhuhu!’”  Charlotte glanced at Undyne, brows raising slightly. The fish’s fists clenched a little tighter. 

“So annoying… look at me, I’m getting pissed off j-just….just thinking about her…” The fish scowled at the ground. Charlotte felt a whirlwind of emotion emanating from the captain of the royal guard. But it wasn’t hatred…. No, it definitely wasn’t hate. Charlotte looked away. She felt sorry she asked.

Undyne led her to the front desk where another armored figure sat. They appeared to be sleeping, deep snores rising up from them their helmet covered head resting against the desktop. Charlotte stared. Where those…little cartoon Z’s floating up from the monster’s head?

“KNIGHT!” Undyne barked slamming her fist down on the desktop. The monster jerked with a snort sitting upright. His white pinprick eyes shifted sleepily from Undyne’s angry face and then rested on Charlotte. He balked.

“Captain Undyne! W-wh- there’s a….a…human!” he pointed at Charlotte with a frazzled half-awake look. Undyne’s jaw set.

“I KNOW Knighty knight…” she hissed. “And she needs a visitors pass and map!”

The knight blinked sleepily, glancing around in confusion.

“Oh…right…” he mumbled, he waved Charlotte over. “Name?”

Charlotte gave it to him, listing off whatever information he asked for. When Undyne’s back was turned he leaned in closer to her.

“ha-how long were you standing there waiting for me to wake up?” he whispered. “Did the captain see?”

Charlotte blinked.

“Oh, um…don’t worry. We just barely walked up.” She whispered back. He relaxed visibly handing her a pass and a map.

“Thank you…” he whispered. Undyne cleared her throat.

“I’d better not catch you slacking off on the job again or I’ll have you running laps until your legs fall off! Are we clear?!”

The knight ducked his head, nodding meekly. Charlotte glanced between them, suddenly understanding exactly why the guards from before had been so intent on Undyne not learning about their little…accident. The fish turned back to Charlotte and her face broke into a wide grin.

“There ya go punk! I gotta go check up on my dogs.” Undyne punched Charlotte in the arm. “Stay out of trouble okay?” Charlotte forced a grin, hand drifting to her arm.

Ouch…

“See ya!” and with that the Fish monster slid on her helmet and went charging off. Charlotte watched her go, head shaking. What were they now? Friends? Acquaintances? Monsters seemed to flip flop between loving and hating a person at the drop of a hat. Charlotte squinted, thinking of Sans. Well…SOME of them at least. Charlotte glanced at the map. The library was on the top floor. She tucked the map away and headed off. The halls were quiet. Most employees were either hard at work at their desks or off attending Asgore’s meetings. It felt vacant. Lonely. And Charlotte realized that for the first time in weeks she was on completely on her own. The door to the king’s private library came sooner than she would have liked. Charlotte raised a shaky hand to the door handle. She hesitated.

R-red…?

No response.

Are you there?

Nothing. Charlotte felt a stab of dread. Had she hurt Red somehow when she pushed her away? Why wasn’t she answering? Why couldn’t Charlotte sense her presence? Or feel the touch of her thoughts on her soul? Her throat went dry. She didn’t want to be alone. Didn’t want to make these big decisions by herself.

She’d been angry before. Horrified that Red would attack someone like that.

Undyne attacked first... She reminded herself. It was like the first time with Sans. Red had prompted her to violence—to defend herself from harm. That was her job wasn’t it? To keep her safe…? Charlotte sagged in guilt. The only difference between the fight with Undyne and the fight with Sans was the fact that Red had had more control this time. Charlotte had been letting her take the wheel more and more as time went on. She hadn’t noticed how much power she’d been giving her. She’d attacked Undyne…

Not with the scissor blade… no. She just punched her. It didn’t even seem to do any real damage. It just made Undyne release her. Made her stop and listen to what Red had to say. Made her respect Charlotte. Charlotte thought back to the look of admiration on Undyne’s face after the fighting stopped. She’d been impressed that Charlotte would have the guts to try and hit her.

Charlotte glanced down at her fist. She’d never hit anyone before. Not like that. Her knuckles still smarted from the impact. She shut her eyes.

I’ve made a terrible mistake.

R-red…I’m sorry I yelled at you. She called out, reaching out with her soul to the place Red usually hid.  Not so much as a buzz of acknowledgement. Charlotte bowed her head and turned the knob. It wasn’t locked. The human let out a sigh.

I’m so sorry Red…

She stepped into the unknown.

Chapter Text

####################

Chapter 19: Mr. Dad Guy

The library was enormous. Massive shelves lined every wall, crammed tight with books. The only light emanated from a large fireplace.  Magic flames crackled merrily in an empty hearth, casting an orange glow over the dark room. Had Charlotte not been so nervous she might have found the space cozy.  The room had been kept immaculately clean. Every object scaled up to suit a much larger being.

A big squishy armchair sat before an equally giant desk. If it had been any larger Charlotte didn’t think she’d even be able to climb up onto it.

It was then that Charlotte noticed something folded neatly over the arm of the chair. She unfolded it to find a lumpy pink sweater. It was crudely made, one sleeve was longer than the other—the stitching was messy as if someone had tried to sew it all by hand.  It looked too big to fit anyone. Even someone like Asgore. Charlotte frowned turning it over in her hands. What was this doing here? The rest of the room was so professional, and it didn’t seem like Asgore kept any other personal items here. So what was it doing here? It was then that she noticed the stitching on the front crudely forming the words ‘Mr. Dad-Guy.’

Something inside of Charlotte ached. Though she couldn’t put a name to it. There were tears in her eyes. Though she didn’t know how they got there. She folded the sweater back up and set it across the arm of the chair. Charlotte took a few deep breaths before climbing up onto the chair. She then stood to get a good look at the contents of the desk.

It was clean with the exception of a worn leather book. Charlotte picked it up.

‘This journal belongs to- #####’. The name was so smudged that Charlotte couldn’t make it out.  Well… this was as good a place to start as any.  Charlotte flipped the journal open to the page that was bookmarked and began reading.

***********************

January 3^rd 19XX

I find it a little remarkable that after one-thousand years of ceaseless study, and we are no closer to breaking the barrier than the day they first entombed us here.  Aster The Perseverant. He cut no corners when he devised this curse, covering every track, blocking every possible loophole, snuffing out every glimmer of hope.

He must have hated us a great deal. I wish I knew why. Ten centuries of punishment, of suffering—and we can only guess at the crime. The barrier was created by the combination of all seven known forms of human magic.

Pale blue patience

Dark blue integrity

Orange bravery

Red determination

Green Kindness

Yellow Justice

And purple perseverance—after which the old mage was named.

It was his perseverance—his unyielding, single-minded pursuit that made it possible.

I always doubted the stories, tales of a human with the dusk of one-thousand monsters staining his soul. Who walked away from every battle without so much as a scratch. Who gathered six of the most powerful mages of his time, turned them one by one to his favor, and in doing so created a curse so powerful that no monster alive could ever harness the power to break it.

I didn’t believe, such a man could exist. That is, until I received the title of Royal Scientist, and took up the torch in trying to undo what that man had done to us.

 If the old mage still lived—I believe he would be laughing at us. Watching as we scramble like rats in search of an exit that simply wasn’t there. This—I suppose, must be his final curse—his last chance to twist the knife and make us suffer. He must have known. How could he not? The only way for us to escape from this hell, is to become the abominations he always believed us to be.  Beings truly deserving of such a prison.

The answer is obvious. It has been staring us in the face from the beginning. In order to undo the curse, we need an approximate facsimile of the power that weaved it in the first place. We need magic—human magic. We need the combined power of seven stolen human souls. We need real determination, real perseverance. We need a miracle.

Our research on the nature of souls has thus far been inconclusive. We have attempted to recreate the endurance of human vitality through the gradual injection of Determination—harvested from the previous humans that had fallen. But it seems that human souls and monster souls are more different than we had imagined, and all of our attempts to simulate them have failed miserably. In view of this, our king has endorsed a much more…controversial solution.

I never would have taken up this mantle if I had realized just how much it would require of me. When a person commits a certain level of violence—there is no going back. No way to truly make amends. Their blood. Though it is not on my hands it may as well have been. I have allowed this. I stood by despite my morals.

And this is my reward.

Dark. Darker. Yet Darker. The darkness keeps growing. The shadows growing deeper.  Yet I carry on. If I abandon this pursuit, then they died for nothing.  I disgrace them.  I cannot go back. Not if I want my sons to ever see the light of day.

***************************************

Charlotte was numb. She reread the passage, unable to stop the bile from rising in the back of her throat.

 The ritual… it’s real.

Charlotte heard the big double doors open and slam shut. All the blood drained from Charlotte’s face. She grabbed the book and ducked under the desk, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. She could see his great horned shadow on the far wall, cast by the firelight. She pinched her eyes shut. Then the figure spoke, the deep rumbling voice was unmistakable.

“Hello?” Asgore called out. “Is someone there?” Charlotte kept as still and as quiet as possible, though she was irrationally convinced that he could hear her wilding drumming heart. She heard the kind shift.

This room is off limits to anyone aside from myself." His voice was tired.  hard. Suspicious maybe? "Show yourself now and you will be forgiven..." Charlotte cowered prodding desperately for Red.

R-red Please…I need you…

But nobody came.

After a few moments of not receiving a response, the king let out a deep sigh. Charlotte flinched, hearing the door locks click shut. She was locked in with him. The King moved slowly, almost belaboredly coming to stand in the center of the room. His voice came again, like distant thunder. Charlotte could practically feel the storm coming.

“I see… It’s you again. Isn’t it?”

Charlotte didn’t dare move. She just kept calling out to Red, frantic.

“Didn’t find what you were looking for last time?” there was anger in the king’s voice now, slowly rising like steam to the surface. “Aren’t you satisfied?”

Charlotte could tell from his shadow—the king was shaking all over. A trident materialized in his hands. He let out a low growl.

“Haven’t you taken enough from me already…?”

CRASH! A series of thumps and booms. Charlotte cowered. The king had overturned one of the massive bookcases. She could hear scattered book thumping like hail atop the desk where she hid. She pinched her eyes shut.

Red… PLEASE…

Charlotte felt completely disabled without Red. She couldn’t act, she couldn’t think. All she could do was cower as another shelf came toppling to the ground a mere feet from her hiding place.

“I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” Asgore’s voice was almost unrecognizable from the soft kindly voice Charlotte had encountered that night with Sans. It was warped and twisted with rage. With pure frustrated hate. “COME OUT AND FACE ME COWARD…”

He’s going to kill us Red…please- please I need you!

“LOOKING FOR A MONSTER OLD FRIEND?” Asgore thundered. Charlotte could feel his booming steps. Soon his shadow was directly over her desk. “LOOKING FOR A MURDERER…?”

Red…

“WELL THEN. HERE HE IS…”

The desk went flying, dashing to splinters against the wall. Leaving Charlotte completely exposed. The trident was already poised to strike, all Charlotte could think to do was to throw her arms over her head in a flimsy defense and wait for the blow. Seconds passing in rapid succession. Then a full minute. The blow never came. Charlotte peeked up through her raised arms.

The king was frozen, staring down at the human with wide unreadable eyes. Charlotte shivered. This was her first time seeing him proper. The first time face to face. She flinched when a large paw descended. It hovered around her for a brief second—hesitant. Then it took her both of her arms into his hand and gently lowered them so he could see her terrified, tear stained face. The king drew back instantly, Trident clattering to the floor. His maw fell open, massive paws beginning to tremble. Eyes flooding with some powerful emotion Charlotte was too scared to feel.

The king’s voice came out so softy—so completely at odd with the deep petrifying roar from before. It was so broken… so lost…so terrified to even hope.

“Ch…Chara..?”

###########################################################################

I’ve got a present for you!

SURPRISE! IT’S ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER.

Because I derive sustenance from the fallen tears of me readers. ;)

Mr. Dad-guy is kind of terrifying. Just sayin.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: Princess

“Chara…?”

Charlotte’s blood ran cold.  All hope of escape died, crumbled by this dark realization. He knew her name.

The monster king—the murderer.  He knew who she was.

I gave the front desk my information. Charlotte realized. Her name, phone number, place of residence—they had it all.  Everything. Even If by some miracle she escaped. He could hunt her down. She was completely at his mercy. There was nowhere left to hide.

Red would’ve warned me about signing my real name. Charlotte realized. She would have had me steal the book straight off and slip away to read it at home. She wouldn’t have sat around in the king’s chair and had story time. She wouldn’t have been caught.

 Red was right. Red had always been right. Charlotte was too naive to make decisions by herself. Too stupid to survive.

The king was quiet and still. He just stood there, staring down at the tiny shaking figure at his feet. Charlotte heaved. She stared back at the monster, arms hugging desperately around herself. Why he didn’t just get on with it?

 Charlotte thought she’d been afraid before, but this… the anticipation. The waiting. It was torture. She was completely powerless.  All she could do was sit and wait for the monster to decide what to do with her. Her fear cast shadows upon her imagination, and she couldn’t stop the horrible thoughts from bubbling to the surface.

Would he make it quick? Dash her against the wall like he did with the desk? Wring her neck? Or would he take her soul? That thought scared her more than anything else. She remembered the feeling of having her soul pulled from her body. The helplessness. The nakedness of it.  Would he crush it into the dirt like an insect? Would he devour it like in the stories? Would she be alive when he began to eat her?

Charlotte sucked in a breath as the king lowered himself down on one knee. He said nothing. Eyes bloodshot. A large paw—the same paw that had dashed that huge desk to splinters—extended. Charlotte whimpered as it touched her face, his palm pressed gingerly against her cheeks.  One flick of his wrist. That’s all it would have taken. One quick effortless motion. And the king could have snapped Charlotte’s neck. The horrible image rolled around in Charlotte’s mind, screaming at her to pull away. But she couldn’t.

 “Oh….Oh…my…” The King breathed. He released her, paws coming up to cover his mouth. “How I-is this….how are you here…?”

Charlotte shook her head anxiety rising. Why did he have to stare at her? His gaze held such longing, such ferocity, as though he wanted nothing more than to spring at her. To snatch her up. To never let her go.

It was terrifying.

Something moved behind the king’s eyes. Then he pounced throwing himself at the human. Charlotte saw the massive body coming over her, powerful arms falling around her like a cage to catch her up. In a burst of desperate panic—Charlotte found the will to move.

“Please—PLEASE!” she balked slipped out from his embrace before the king could close his arms around her. She retreated backwards, half crawling until her back hit the wall. The king faltered.

“Chara…?”  He rumbled, voice laced with uncertainty. He raised a tentative paw to her. Charlotte threw her arms up, one held out as if to hold him back.

“D-don’t come any closer!” she begged. Once she found her voice, weepy terrified pleas began to pouring from her lips. She couldn’t stop them. “Please don’t be mad! I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t be mad at me!” she mewled, hands clawing up into her hair.

The king’s brow rose, disappearing into his hairline. His mouth coming open in stunned, disbelief. For the first time in what felt like ages, the king took his eyes off of the human to take in where he was. Books were scattered everywhere, shelves overturned, curtains ripped down from the wall. His eyes widened when they fell on the desk where she had been hiding. It was smashed, splintered to bits against the far wall. The king winced, understanding falling over him like a wave.

“That wasn’t—I-I thought—I didn’t—!” The king’s paws came up to cover his mouth, his entire being seemed to shrink as he drew in on himself. “oh…..oh, Princess…”

Red moved. Charlotte jumped, hand coming up to her chest. A mumble. A buzz. The word ‘princess’ tumbling around in Red’s consciousness, as if the utterance had called her back—woken her up from death itself. Charlotte’s soul brightened, and Red let out an irritable moan about being ‘blinded’. Red was alive. She was here. Charlotte hadn’t lost her. She was alive!

“Oh princess…” A shadow cast over Charlotte. Her eyes shot up in time to see a large paw coming down over her head. The breath caught in her throat. “You know….that I would never—“

SHINK! No words. Charlotte’s fingers found the handle of the scissor blade.

And Red struck, slicing Asgore across the palm of his outstretched palm. No hesitation.

Red ducked under the monster’s arm, dancing out of range of his grasp. Asgore froze as Red repositioned to face him, her blade raised. Expression hard.

The king turned his paw over. A long drop of blood seared his palm, cutting down it like a teardrop. Charlotte felt dizzy, like she might faint, but Red’s mind was clear, sharp as a blade. She started backing towards the door, eyes never leaving the monster. Ready to attack if he came at her again.

“Don’t touch me murderer.”

 Silence.

 Charlotte felt an ache. Distant. Muffled. Lost in whirlwind of Red’s resolve and her own crippling fear. The king sank to his knees. Arms hugging around himself. Looking at Charlotte as if she—

Charlotte’s head swam. That makes no sense…

He was the murderer. He was the monster. He was the one with all the power. Why did he look so broken? As though that tiny little nick of a dull blade had stabbed him straight through the heart? As though she had just…. killed him? Then it came. With such intensity that if Charlotte had been in control of her body at the moment—she would have been knocked off her feet.

Pain…pain…pain pain PAIN PAIN PAINPAINPAINPAIN! It burst to the forefront, drowning out fear. Drowning out everything else. Charlotte thought she would die.

Red had reached the door throwing it open. Charlotte got one last look at the king’s broken face.

Wrong… This is wrong… Charlotte felt a tug in her soul—an irrational urge to go back. To put her arms around the murderer. To comfort him. To weep with him.

But then he was gone. Red was running down the hall putting as much distance between herself and the King as possible. She said nothing. Charlotte said nothing. The agony faded the further away they got. Red rounded a corner, running headlong into a large warm shape. The shape grunted. Red looked up to see a wide grinning skull looking down at her, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Eye sockets empty and black.

There was a fumbling and a crash down behind her. The pounding of heavy feet on tile. A desperate shout of Charlotte’s name.

 Asgore had gotten up. Asgore had given chase. Charlotte faltered. 

Wait...

Blue flashed in Sans’ empty eye socket. Burning like a hot ember. A skeletal arm wrapped around the human, crushing her roughly to his chest.

...Go back…

There was a jolt. A sensation like the g force of a roller-coaster hit her belly.  And then they were gone.

Charlotte had vanished by the time Asgore rounded the corner. So she didn't see the way his eyes searched frantically for her. She didn't hear him calling, repeating her name again and again until his voice broke and gave way to sobs. She didn't see him fall to his knees whispering apologies to the empty air. She didn't see how his body wracked and shook, as though the sky was crashing down around him. Charlotte didn’t see a lot of things. But they happened nonetheless.

###################################################################################

There. I did it.

This chapter was really uncomfortable to write. I hate hurting Asgore. I really do. His life is already so screwed up. I rewrote this several times, trying to find a way around it, or a way to soften the blow somehow. This is what I ended up with.  I really really hate Red right now…

But I’m glad this one is over.

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE 2: Sans; Judgement Hall

Judgement Hall. It was the first place Sans could think to take the human. It was secluded. Even more so now that the barrier had fallen and most of the working castle staff had moved topside. There wasn’t anyone around to overhear. No chance of Papyrus walking in on them. It was perfect. Fitting—for what he had to do. 

The moment his feet touched the ground, he shoved Charlotte away from him. The human stumbled but caught herself, slipping automatically into defensive position. Her eyes flickered around, taking in her surroundings. She didn’t look surprised. Sans slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’ve been busy. Haven’t ya kid?”  He mused. The human’s eyes locked onto his like a laser-beam and Sans felt a chill in his soul. That glare. Cold. Calm. Calculating. All too familiar.

 Chara’s hand drifted towards her front pocket. Sans could see the handle of the scissor blade poking out. The skeleton let his hatred burn. Sharpening it like a dagger.  No more guilt. No more uncertainty. In Good. Make my decision easier. He let out a dark chuckle, grinning down at the little demon.

Just like old times.  

Sans been wanting for this moment for—oh so long! Too long. Now it was really happening. His chance to end it.  It felt almost cathartic in a way. Something he could control. The last nail in her coffin. 

The human’s fingers brushed the hilt of her blade. Lightly, almost seductively. Her eyes never leaving the skeleton’s for a second. Sans raised a idle hand. He was ready for her. Ready to finally—finally feel free, ready to end this little demon once and for all. Maybe that’s what he needed all along. Just one good helping of deadly mercy. Sans chuckled at his own joke. He only needed to kill her once.

 “Don’t…”

The tiny voice jerked Sans out of his reverie. He grit his teeth. Damnit. Had someone walked in on them? Sans knew from experience. Bad things happened when he let innocent people get in that demon’s way.  He cast his eyes around for the intruder. But they were alone. The voice came again, it sounded like a young girl.

“I don’t want to hurt him…”

Sans froze. Chara’s eyes were squinted shut. Her shoulders tensed. He could see her lips moving, her head giving little shakes, once in a while. Like she was having a conversation.  He stared.

Oh shit…where I have seen this song and dance before…

The human inhaled sharply, then her cheeks puffed out senselessly and she blew the air out. Her body relaxed. She changed.  Gone was the confidence, elegant preciseness of a polished fighting stance.  Gone was the familiar coldness. The deadly, soulless calm that still sent shivers through Sans’ soul to think about.

The human’s shoulders came up timidly. Large eyes losing all their malice. She wrung her hands, shifting nervously between her feet. She paid the him a tiny, oblivious— smile.  Sans winced. Damnit.

 “H-hi Sans…” Charlotte dipped her head sheepishly. The skeleton could just scream.  Damnit all to hell! Why’d it have to be you? Sans cracked his fingers and neck, glowering down at the innocent little doofus that had just shanghaied his chance for revenge.

“Kiddie…” Sans hissed through gritted teeth. He clenched and unclenched his fists.  “You better pray I’m wrong about you…” the human drew up her shoulders, her stupid little baby-face knitting up in bemusement. Sans growled. “You better pray…”

“Take us back” Said the human. Sans raised a sardonic brow.

“Us?”

“Me” she winced correcting herself. “Please, I have to go back to the embassy right away. It’s important. I think…I think I messed up really bad…” the human rubbed her arm ruefully. Sans let out a humorless chuckle.

“Probably the truest thing you ever said kiddo.” He growled, sneering down at her. “You ‘messed up real bad’” The human winced again. Damnit. Why did she have to look so guilty?  Sans ground his teeth. She wasn’t supposed to feel bad about things. Why did she always have to make his job harder?

“Please, just take me back to the embassy.” The human repeated.

“And just what were you doing there pal? Selling Girl Scout cookies? This oughta be good.” Sans advanced. The human shifted back, avoiding his eyes. He scoffed.  “No wait. Let me guess…there was this sick dog that needed help is that right? And you, being the mother fucking saint that you are, just happened to be passing by?”

The human bowed her head.

“I went to the embassy to find information about Asgore, and the dead children.”

Sans faltered. He’d expected lies. Cover ups. Excuses that cast the little demon in a good light. But honesty? He set his jaw.

“So…you’ve been spying on us huh?” he said, voice dangerously calm. “That’s why you broke in?”

The human wrung her hands.

“I didn’t…’break’ in. Technically…technically I went through the front door and got a visitors pass.” She tapped the laughably oversized badge that was still clipped to the front of her Jacket before bringing up her hands up and shrugging sheepishly. “But uh…yeah. I’ve been…poking around for a while now.”  The human peeked up to gage his reaction before quickly looking back down. Her face flushing. Sans grimaced at how….how vulnerable she looked. It was wrong. She was wrong.

“I’m sorry. I just. I had to know the truth. I had to learn it for myself.” Charlotte said.

“And just how is any of that your business?” Sans grunted. “What does any of this have to do with you?” the human’s brows knit up in confusion. He lowered his head, putting less space between her face and his scowl. “What makes you so special? News flash kid, we don’t have to justify ourselves to anyone. Least of all to someone like you.”  Charlotte shrunk back.

“We don’t owe you anything. If anything your people owe us. Yeah…” He leaned down closer, grin widening.

 “Let talk about you for a minute. You kill thousands of our people, forcing the survivors into exile.  You lock us up in a bloody crypt for a thousand years.” Sans never shouted. It may have been better if he had. His perpetually grinning skull. His deep even whisper just inches from Charlotte’s face. The human looked as though she might keel over right there.

  “And when we finally manage to claw our way out of all the bullshit you dumped on us—when we finally have a chance to put the past behind us and start over—heeeeeeeres Chara! Ready to dig up every shitty thing we’ve ever done and rub our faces in it.”  Tears were forming in the human’s eyes now, she tried to blink them away. Sans sneered in disgust.

“And y’wanna know th’ real kicker? None of this affects your life in the slightest. You could just waltz back over to your little privileged world and forget about us. We’d never bother you again. In fact you’d probably never see us again.  Because to you, it’s all just a game. You can come over and slum it with the freaks and then go home feeling like you’re a better person for it. Because you ‘dained to grace us lowly undergrounders with your presence.’” He spat on the ground at her feet.   

“But you know what kiddie? Its not a game for us. Its life. Because of you humans we have to grovel and toe the line, we have to put up with all the shit you can throw at us just so we can keep our freedom. Just so we don’t get thrown back into that pit to suffer for another thousand years.”

Sans heaved, glaring down at the human. How long had all that been building up for? Anger now spent, He rose back up and shoved his hands in his pockets.  Charlotte sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before shrinking in on herself, eyes on the ground.

“Nobody’s gonna do anything.” She whispered hoarsely. Sans blinked.

“What?”

“Nobody did anything. Cept for frisk. Nobody cares.”  Charlotte said.“Only…only I think they would. They would do something if they knew what you were like. If they realized how…how noble you all are. I’m…I’m sorry. We do bad stuff. But we’re not evil. Not really… We’re just…scared"

Sans scoffed, regarding her. The human frowned.

“You were right… what you said about it being  none of my business. About how it doesn’t affect me… you’re right. And…that’s the problem. All the people out there. The good ones. None of whats happening to you really hurts them at all. Butting out is convenient. Its safe. So…so..nobody’s gonna do anything…” Her lips trembled. “The people who could change things—they stay out of it. And the people who need to be heard the most—they barely get a say at all.”

The human fiddled with her zipper, trying not to look at the monster.

“Nobody is gonna doing anything. Nobody cares about you. You could all go back to ebbot and-and… nobody would care…”

Sans stiffened. Charlotte looked up at him. Damn she was tiny. Why? Why did she have to be so small and unassuming? So infuriatingly innocent? So harmless?

“Nobody else was gonna do anything. Nobody else is even willing to try. But…somebody has to start it. One of these days, somebody is going to have to actually try. Or else…else…nothing is ever going to change…”  

Sans took a step backwards. His head shaking slowly. Why did it have to be her? It could have been anyone. Why did it have to be someone like her? His hands began to shake.

“I thought that if I was going to do something. Then I couldn’t be in the dark about everything. If I was going to do this….I needed to know the truth. I needed to know if…if HE…was really…worthy of defending.” She fiddled with her zipper. “But…that sounds really dumb. Doesn’t it?”

I can’t do this. Shit. I can’t do this… I swore after Frisk, I swore. Never again…

Sans felt a hand grasp his own. He flinched, eyes coming open to see Charlotte. She was peering up at him with her big, stupid, eyes.

“please sans. I need you to take me back to the embassy. I…I don’t know exactly what happened. But Re—I” she corrected herself. “I Think I really hurt him.” Sans felt a stab of panic.

“Hurt? Hurt who?” He growled, nervousness creeping into his voice. The human’s expression pained, and she looked away.

“K-king Asgore…”

Shit…Sans grabbed charlotte by the shoulders, wheeling her around to face him.

“What happened? What did you do?” he demanded.

“I snuck into his private library.  He walked in on me so I hid. He must have known someone was there. He…he got really mad.”

Sans scoffed. “Mad?” Asgore didn’t get mad.

“Yeah…He started shouting. He got out his big” – she gestured vaguely.—“big pitchfork thingy and trashed the place.” Sans folded his arms.

“Did he?”

“Um… he knocked over the bookshelves. Broke a bunch of stuff, swinging his pitchfork around. It was really scary…” Charlotte tapped her fingers together nervously. Sans drew in his chin. She had to be lying. Exaggerating maybe. He squinted at her, trying to detect any signs of deception. He couldn’t find any.

“What did the king… say exactly? When he was shouting.”

“Um…something about…how they took everything from him—how they weren’t satisfied or something. Then he started roaring about being a monster and being a—“she faltered. “Being a murderer…”

Sans eyes widened in realization.

Oh.

Asgore had three children in his lifetime. One committed suicide. One was murdered by humans. The loss demoralized him. He’d been ready to declare war on humanity—then he met his third kid. Frisk—the child of his old age. The one who restored his faith in humanity. Who made him believe that there could be peace. The one who made him hope again.

And then she was murdered.

Sans could think of only one person who could have elicited such hatred from the king. He took a deep breath.

“So… he thought you were somebody else and he destroyed the room and scared you.” Sans opened an eye. “ Am I following this right?” The human nodded.

“ But… when he actually SAW me… he got really quiet. Like spooky quiet.”  She shuddered. “He…he knew my name Sans. I don’t know how, but he did. Then he started acting really—I don’t know—He kept staring at me. And…. trying to touch me” She bowed her head. “I think it freaked me out more than when he was shouting and breaking things. I felt like I was waiting around for him to-to.”  She didn’t finish.

Sans felt sick to his stomach. This was a mess…. This… This was some Shakespearian shit is what it was. stupid kid… She looked exactly like that-that demon child. Same weirdo eyes. Same nose,  same light dusting of freckles, same heart shaped face.  But when Chara had been alive they’d been Asgore’s daughter. He knew that. Everyone did. Sans pinched his eyes shut. So th’ kid thought he was about to gobble her up or somethin’ and Asgore thought he was seeing his little girl come back from the dead.  Damnit... Asgore was already so fragile. He just barely lost frisk.

“What did you do to him…?”  Sans voice came out much colder and harder than he’d meant it to be. The human winced wringing her hands.

“I…I I’m not very good with fights. I just…I freeze up, or I cry, or beg, or-or faint or just do nothing at all. She wrung her hands. I’m kind of useless…”

“Get to the point.” Sans grunted.

“I was so scared… I thought he was going to kill me… so I just…” She started shaking her head. ‘I didn’t think she’d even be…CAPABLE of hurting him. I-I mean… I’m so—so puny, and... I panicked. So…I let the magic take over.”

Sans felt a bomb drop in the pit of his stomach. He’d known this was coming. But It made the confirmation no less painful.

 No…. she’s dead…please no… please not again… He ran a hand over his face.

“This magic thing. It talks to you—doesn’t it? It gives you advice…tells you to do things?” Sans sighed. Charlotte nodded.  She’s just a dumb kid. Why did it have to be her? “When did you start to notice her? What…what brought it on?”

“Um….From you I guess?” she said uncertainly. The skeleton scoffed.

“Don’t work like that kiddo. Try again.”

“W-well not from you exactly. She… she said she came because I needed her…” Charlotte said. “You pulled my soul out…. She said that I…called out to her somehow. I was in danger, so she woke up and came to help me….she protects me.”

Sans’ entire body went rigid. He didn’t speak for a long moment.

“And…aside from today, has she ever…’protected’ you by taking control of your body?”

“Um… mostly it’s just thoughts. You know, like passing things that popped into my head. Impulses. Grab that knife. Don’t go there alone. Be careful. That sort of thing. Stuff that occurs to most people in dangerous situations…Sans are you okay? You don’t look so good…”

“Just…answer the question kid.”

“She said it was like turning off your fears and letting instinct take over. But that’s not really what it feels like. Usually she asks permission and I have to let her… but lately, when I’m around monsters… she just sort of…asserts herself.”

“Around Papyrus?!”  Sans rounding on her, jaw clenched. Charlotte frowned thoughtfully. Her nose wrinkled.

 “Actually no….she gets real quiet around him. Sometimes when I’m with him…I forget she’s there at all. I don’t feel or hear her…but It’s not scary o-or anything. I don’t notice until later when she yells at me for ‘ignoring’ her.” Sans let out the breath he was holding.  “But with other monsters. And…usually only when they’re being threatening. I…I didn’t know she could just…grab control  like that at first. I guess its like she says though. Just…instinct…”

Sans ground his teeth, a chill running down his spine.

 “Is….is your little friend here now? Is she listening?”

Charlotte shook her head.

“She’s sleeping.  I think she’s still weak from before.”

“Before?” Sans questioned.

“Oh… she tried fighting with Undyne before. I got mad at her and made her stop. I think I hurt her when I forced her down.” Charlotte sounded guilty. Sans mulled this over. So  wasn’t as bad as with frisk. Chara had full control of frisk all the time. She could make her do whatever she wanted. That had been— Sans’ eyes shot open. He rounded on Charlotte.

“you let her fight with monsters?!”

Before she could reply Sans jerked his finger, tugging out her soul. The human froze, mouth open in a silent scream.

No no nononono

Sans scanned the stats. No LV. No EXP. No Defense. He sank to his knees, trying to calm his panicked soul. So chara hadn’t managed to kill anyone this time around. Hell this Charlotte kid managed to keep th’ little demons claws out of her a lot longer than frisk had the first time around. That was something to be grateful for. Sans glanced up at Charlotte. He jumped slightly at the look on her face. She was pale white, with wide eyes. Her knees were knocking together.

“Kid…?” Sans frowned. The human paid him a pitiful look, eyes darting to her soul.  It took Sans a minute to realize what was happening.

“This isn’t a fight. Relax.” Sans groaned.  The human’s lips trembled.

“Y-you won’t touch it?” she pressed.

“Look, If I was killing you, you’d know it.”

When. His mind corrected blackly. When I kill you…  The human took a deep breath and relaxed a little. She still watched him closely.

“What…what were you looking for?” she asked turning her head to see it from his perspective.

“Nothin. Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t dusted anyone.” Sans sighed.  The human’s mouth fell into the shape of an ‘o’.

“Y-you thought I was going to KILL someone?!” Charlotte squeaked. The girl began stammering, face going pale. How could you—I would never—I never even punched someone before today! And get woozy just THINKING about blood!— And You think I’m actually capable of …of murdering someone?!”

“Yes.” Sans retorted.  At least he was honest. Sans found himself laughing. A deep, slightly erratic noise. He couldn’t help it. It was just so ridiculous.  Chara’s face. Chara’s body being horrified by violence. The very idea of Chara swooning at the sight of blood. It was like the time greater dog decided to take up the unicycle, and practiced in FULL armor. The image was so absurd… so…

Damnit.  The human was crying again.

“Is this why you hate me? You think I would hurt someone?” She whispered. her eyes widened slightly. “H-hurt your brother?”

Ouch. That sobered him up. Sans bit a nonexistent lower lip. Suddenly Charlotte was nose to nose with him, standing up on her tiptoes.

“Sans…I-I promise you!  I would never ever do anything to hurt your brother! I-I swear! I-I’ll sign my name in blood if I have to!”

Sans pulled a face.

“Blood…?”

The human flushed.

“I saw it in a movie once…”

Sans regarded her dully. Then he grunted, putting on a tired smile.

“I know…I know you’re not gonna hurt my bro.” he sighed. Charlotte blinked.

 “y-you…you do?”

“Yep.” Sans hummed. The lights left his eyes.  “Because you’re never gonna see him again.” Charlotte leaned back.

“W-what..?” 

Sans ran a hand over his face. He took a deep breath, then laughed slightly. This was all wrong. He sighed, opening one eye to peer at her.

“You still got the knife kiddo?” he asked softly, even though he already knew the answer. Charlotte blinked obliviously.

“Um, yeah” she pulled the blade out, laying it across her palms. She held it up for him to see. “Why?”

Sans’ soul ached. How did somebody so stupidly trusting even survive? In a world like this one?  Did she even know how to use it? He ran a hand over his skull.

“Good….heh. Good…. Good girl…” Sans took a few slow steps backwards before he turned to face her.  The human cocked her head, glancing between him and the scissor blade in her hands. Sans took a deep breath, letting the magic pool into his good eye. The room darkened, the air grew chill. Charlotte shuddered.

“S-sans…?”

Sans shut his eyes.

Sorry to let you down bro. But guys like me should really be burning in hell.

Sans attacked.

############################################################################################

Well this one was a beast.

For those of you who were just aching for a bad time chapter… well, you got it…

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE: Judgement hall part 2

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was a word for what Sans felt.

Power. It was intoxicating. It numbed every doubt. It holds off  the sting of remorse so that action can take over.  It was control. It was salvation. And yet it was bittersweet. It was tainted by the truth. The knowledge that this feeling—this addiction was one that both he and Chara shared. It connected them. It made them the same.

There was a word for what they felt. It was an obsession. It was the love of power. The love of revenge. Of feeling and imposing control over all that you see.

They called it—

Megalovania.

He drew in a breath and let himself cross that line. Then he exhaled, and let himself plummet right over the edge.

Sans attacked.

How long had it been? Had it really only been six months since the last time Sans had been here? He’d withstood countless resets, lived more hellish lifetimes than any man deserved. Yet she always returned. Always. But then, he knew how things would go. Chara fell upon their world like a flood, swallowing up their lives, their hopes. Their futures.  Nothing ever changed. The floods came up and up. All the way up to the neck. All the way until their broken world was one breath from drowning.

 And then He would come. He would stop her. Countless resets. Countless battles. Sometimes they lasted days on end before a reset. But Chara never won. She never ever defeated Sans. Never eluded his judgment. He’d taken up the mantle of judge jury and executioner, all in one. Someone had to do it.  Sans was the only one that could.

Chara would fight. Sans would kill her again and again until eventually she’d reset. Sans often wondered why she chose to start over so many times. Was it to give herself more time? Allow herself to search out his weaknesses? He never knew.  

The only thing that kept him going was the uncertainty. The fear of what would happen to this world if one day he failed. If she managed to kill everyone in the underground. Would she be satisfied? Would she erased the world?

Sans didn’t know. But he couldn’t take that risk. He couldn’t afford not to care anymore.  All he knew was that if he stopped her, if he killed and humiliated her enough times, eventually she would reset. Sans would wake up in a cold sweat, to the sound of Papyrus banged on his bedroom door telling him that he would be late for work if he didn’t get his butt in gear.

That would have been enough for him.

 Enough of a reason not to admit defeat and just let that demon devour him.  If he fought…. If he won. If he kept that demon at bay long enough. He could hear papyrus’ voice again. He could cherish his brother’s hugs and scolding’s, for just a little bit longer. For a moment, he could have the sun. A small beam of happiness in an otherwise hopeless existence. He laugh and tease and for just one fleeting moment— forget. Forget that any moment it could all be erased. Forget that he was powerless to protect the one person who mattered most. That he and everyone else he held dear were little more than the playthings of a deranged psychopath.  Puppets dancing on strings so thin, a single breath could make them snap.

And Sans had snapped.

Oh… did he snap…

Never again…

A turn of his wrist. A roar of power. A scream.

The smell of burning hair.

“SANS PLEASE!” Charlotte screamed. The human flopped like a ragdoll—helpless body striking hard into the wall. The floor. Wall. Wall. Ceiling. Drop. She was weeping, crumpled on the ground, lip split. Eyes bloodshot. Sans looked away.

…Never ever again…

“W-why are you doing this…?” the human whimpered. They had passed half a dozen rounds. Yet the human had yet to fight back. She just dodged—clumsily. Ineffectually. She cried and pleaded, letting out a soul-shattering scream every time he got in a hit. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

“Someone has to do it.” Sans muttered, more to himself than to her. “I’m the only one who can…who knows…”

 Sans didn’t look at her bruised and battered body. Didn’t allow himself to feel any pity. Any remorse. No. Only anger lived in him now. No other feeling was welcome.

“I…I don’t understand…”  Charlotte whimpered. Sans suppressed another tug of shame. Oh hell. She sounded like a child. He clenched his jaw, fixing her with a glare.

“I’m going to kill you. So get up and defend yourself.” Sans stated coldly. “That’s all you need to understand.”  He looked away again, preparing another blaster. He didn’t want to see. He couldn’t handle the expression of panic. Of betrayal.

It was a little remarkable that she’d survived this many rounds with little more than a busted lip and a bruised body. Especially for a kid with zero defense. His magic didn’t appear to be draining her HP in the way it should have. She would take damage when she was hit. But it didn’t continue to drop after contact. That was odd. Maybe it was that demon’s doing. Sans spat on the ground.

Or maybe his heart just wasn’t in it this time. The human screamed with every blow. Cried out for help or mercy. Sans began realizing that he was missing his mark more often than he would have liked to admit. And there was little chance it was due to her ‘dodging’. She was slower than a moldsmall and had the preservation instincts to match.

And yet Sans had yet to get in a single direct hit. He simply… missed barely grazing her soul, or passing her up entirely. When he became aware of this fact he scowled.  He kept right on hammering her. And she kept screaming. It was only a matter of time.  Chara’s pride would not hold out much longer. She wouldn’t let him continue to bash her and throw her around. He knew Chara. Sooner or later she would squash the kiddo down and seize control. Sooner or later she would fight. And when that happened… Sans would be able to conjure up the will to truly end her.

All he had to do was keep fighting. Eventually the kid would lose her grip. she would slip back into unconsciousness and leave the grownups alone to chat… Eventually she would stop crying.

That moment came soon enough. The human pulled herself slowly to her feet. Blade in hand. She was mere paces from him now, head bowed. Singed hair falling over her face. He'd burned off more than he'd expected, leaving it short and charred as it fell over her face like a mask. Smoke still rising from the ends. She looked like the demon now more than ever. One arm across her front to grab the wrist of her other hand. The knife held awkwardly. She was silent for once. Face obscured. And sans felt a stab of vicious pleasure.

“Heya. Has little Chara finally come out to play?”

White hot power blared from a blaster’s maw and struck the human right in the chest. She ducked out of the line of fire instantly, keeping low. She rushed towards the skeleton. Sans let out a booming peal of manic laughter. Bones shot up from the ground around the running human. One struck her side. Boom. Her hip. Boom. One slugged her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. She rolled out of the line of fire, and kept up her pursuit.

She was right on top of him now, hair wild over her face, chest heaving from effort. Sans grinned, winking menacingly. His eyes never left the knife as the human sprang.

A direct act? No deception? No fancy bobbing and weaving? She’d gotten rusty. Sans dodged. Or at least he tried to. He’d been focused on the knife’s flight through the air, its position—trajectory, speed. That way he could dodge it, moving no further than he had to. The laziness of his parries had always gotten under Chara’s skin. It was a simple pleasure. In fact one of the only pleasures he generally got from one of these fights. He’d been focused on the knife. So he didn’t see her other hand. It came around and gripped a fistful of Sans’ hoodie. He blipped, two feet to the left—and the tiny figure flashed along for the ride. This was new.

She'd never done this before. Not a single time in any of their fights had the human tried something so underhanded. So clever. She had anchored herself to his chest, grip tight, and he could do nothing to avoid her knife fisted hand as it came around fast to connect with his chest.

Shit

Something connected with his chest. But no attack came. The blade wasn’t buried into his soul. It didn’t break him. He heard the scissor blade clattered to the floor a few paces back. Had she dropped it? Had it slipped from her hands as she’d reeled back to strike? Sans heard the human sniffle. Sniffle…?

His eyes dropped like blocks of lead. A tiny shivering body was pressed up against him.  hands gripping on with fistfuls of his hoodie. Clinging to his front almost desperately. The little heart shaped face pressed into his belly, soaking through his shirt with silent tears. Sans stared.

"P-please..." A tiny broken voice. Damnit. How was the kid still here? She had less than three HP left. How was the kid still in control? Chara would never have let herself stay vulnerable for this long.  It had to be a trick.

 "Please...I don't..." The human was begging again, her voice so soft that the skeleton barely registered it over his own seething. He wrapped his arms around the human, pinning her to his front. She didn’t resist, face hidden against his belly. She was shaking her head, mumbling under her breath.

Sans allowed himself a deep breath.

He'd been here before. Hadn't he?

He knew what would come next.

Bones rose silently into the air behind the human.. Sans eyed the human numbly, running a hand over her hair. He’d make it quick.

“Please…” Her voice muffled by fabric and tears. “I don’t….” The bones were in position, poised to strike. Then the voice came again, so softly that Sans wasn’t sure he’d heard it.

“Please…I don’t want to hurt him…”

The bones faltered. Sans growled, the sound rumbling deep in his gut.  He had to do it. There was no place in his philosophy for mercy. Not for something that could so easily destroy everything he held dear. The human was a danger to herself and to everyone around her. That much was clear. She had to die. This proved it.  If she had to fight so hard, to keep that demon from....from…

Oh hell…kiddo’s been holding her down. Is that why her dodges were so awkward? Why Chara hasn’t tried to kill him yet?

Hot bile rose in the back of the skeleton’s throat. He felt like someone had grabbed his soul and wrung it out like a dishrag.

 The kiddo… has she…. she’s been protecting me from Chara this whole time?

Oh hell…damnit…damnit all to hell…

The skeleton squeezed his eyes shut. He hated that little girl… HATED her for this. It wasn’t fair. But….

He’d made his decision. One he knew that would regret. One that would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. The skeleton’s grip on the human tightened, lifting her off her feet and into his arms. Her shaking abated and she melted into his embrace. He could hear her tears….tears of relief. His soul ached.  It wasn’t fair…

Sans lifted an eye. The bones were in position. Still floating there, waiting for a command. He pinched his eyes shut, hiding the image from view. He brought his face closer to the human’s ear, teeth pressed softly into her singed hair.

“If you’re really my friend…” he whispered, hoarsely. “…You won’t come back..”

He let the magic go.

FHOOOM!

A breath.

A gasp.

Then silence.

Sans didn't open his eyes. Didn't want to see his handiwork. Didn't want it to be real.  Because if it was real. Then the consequences of his actions-- the blame would be his to carry. He took a ragged breath and opened his eyes.

A four poster bed. A cheap lamp on a bedside table. A tiny wide eyed human still clinging to his chest. He felt his soul fill with despair.

“Ya did it Kiddo.” Sans growled softly. “Ya beat me.” The human let out an odd hiccupping sniffle.

“Ain’t nobody else in this whole damn world can say that. Ya did good kid.  Real Good…” His voice faltered. “You won. Don't let that bitch take that from you. Don't you ever let her take …anything from you. She don't deserve it….”

Charlotte lifted her eyes, peering up at him in confusion. Her face was slightly bruised, her lip split. Her hair was damaged beyond repair. Singed and charred at the ends. The blackened stubble had stained her cheeks. Sans winced.

He should leave. He’d done enough damage already. But the thought of leaving the kid in such a state didn’t sit right in his soul. Sans let out a deep sigh.

“C’mere babybones…get you cleaned up…” he mumbled. The human let him lead her into the bathroom. Let him settle her down on the counter. Let him wipe down her face and arms with a warm damp rag. When he gave her a few pieces of monster candy, she took it and ate it without even asking what it was or what it was for. The bruises had faded to nothing by her third piece. The visible ones anyway.

Her eyes were distant as he cleaned up her face. But her hair was so charred that every time she turned her head it sent smears of black down her cheeks. Her hair was damaged beyond repair. Singed and charred at the ends. The blackened stubble had stained her cheeks. He winced to look at it. He couldn't help but feel that he'd stolen something valuable from the human. Sans dug through her drawers. She made no move to stop him. She made no move to do anything. Just stared. Eventually Sans found what he was looking for. A pair of haircutting scissors.

"Hold still kiddie..." He brought the blade above the damaged, where the hair was still pretty and shone. There was much less if it than there had been before. Sans began to cut. Locks of charred hair fell like dead leaves to the ground. He tried to remove the refuse while leaving as much of the good hair as he could. When he was finished he stepped back to look at his handiwork.

Sans felt a cold hand of dread grasp his soul. They were identical now…The human’s long hair was gone, replaced by a messy bob of short locks. Sans pinched his eyes shut.

He'd done this to her.  Ruined her. Taken some of the light from her eyes. Taken something sacred. Something precious—irreplaceable. A level of trust she would never ever get back. He'd broken her. Left her more jaded, more like Chara than she'd ever been before. It was his fault. The human didn’t look into the mirror. Didn’t acknowledge the skeleton’s handiwork. Her eyes were glazed over. Distant.

“Ki-… Charlotte…” Sans muttered. The sound her name—her real name drew the human’s attention. Sans bit a nonexistent lower lip. What could he say to her? How do you apoligize for trying to kill someone? For taking such spiteful pleasure in her pain? He could not. Nothing he could say. Nothing he could do could make things right again. The realization hit him hard. Without another word he pulled the human into his chest.

Sans didn’t cry. He never did. Part of him wondered if he was still capable of such a thing—after everything he’d seen. He just held her—selfishly groping for comfort from a being who owed him no kindness. He didn’t care.

A few seconds of stiff calm from the human. Of detachment. Then a tiny hand reached around and patted his back.

Sans felt sick. Why? Why was she trying to soothe him? How could she still put any measure of trust in him after what he'd done? He hated her for it. She was so stupid. So innocent. How could she still believe there was anything worthwhile left in him after what he'd said and done? After what he'd tried to do?

The answer came. Her soul was glowing. A soft soothing green buzz.

Oh…

Sans thought he'd seen it all. But this…this was uncharted territory. He was exposed, stripped  bare before that magic. He hated her for it. He hated everything about her

There was no hiding behind intimidation. No laughing. No jokes to camouflage the cynicism—the hopelessness.  The human pushed aside her own fears so  that she could hear his. Sneaky…

She'd focused in on him. She'd caught him.

It was little wonder she was able to keep Chara under control for so long. Empathy is the enemy to apathy. The bane of revenge, of hatred. Of fear.

And it seemed—the bane of Sans as well.

He wondered which sin would have been more damning. Letting Chara loose on an unsuspecting world. Knowing what he knew, seeing what he'd seen-- and allowed her to live?

Or the sin of removing that source of kindness from this world. Of seeing the power it could carry. The unfamiliar strength of human kindness? The worth he’d thought humanity had lost altogether long ago.  –and destroying it?

Oh hell… Sans opened his eyes to peer woefully down at the human in his arms.  what am I going to do now…?

The human had done the impossible. She'd rendered him powerless. She had elicited mercy from the merciless. Gained sympathy from a devil. Maybe… Maybe that meant she was stronger than Chara. Maybe she really could keep that demon contained. Keep her from breaking out and destroying everything Sans had worked so hard to preserve.  Even without determination. Without the secondhand power of a dead God.

The very idea was laughable. Sans didn’t laugh. Was it really possible?

A power greater than Chara's wrath?

Greater than her lust for bloodshed? Greater than Sans’ fears?

A power greater than determination?

Sans shut his eyes.

Kindness huh?

I'll be damned...

It was time to make a decision. It was time to relinquish control.

Whatever happens now, let it be on my head.

“Kiddo… now you listen here…” Sans took Charlotte’s wrists and removed her hands from him. He frowned woefully down at her. “If you ever come back. If you ever come near me or my brother again. If you ever let that...that demon out on anyone...” he took a ragged breath. “I will kill you.”

Confusion. Hell she really was dumb wasn’t she? Had she really forgotten so quickly? Did she really not understand? The human’s eyes flooded with hurt. And sans felt her tiny fingers tighten on his shirt.

Nope…Wrong.

Sans took her shoulders and jerked her away from him, roughly. His jaw set.

"Look at me. DONT come back. I spared your life once, I won’t do it again.” He gave her a little shake. “Get it? I'm not a nice guy. I'm not your friend. I WILL KILL YOU!"  His eyes searched her. She gaped back at him dumbly. Sans grimaced.  

"Do..do you understand that kiddo?” He muttered, voice almost pleading.  “I will hurt you if I see you again. I will kill you. You have to stay away from us. Okay?”

The human didn’t reply, she just stared at him, searchingly. The intensity of her gaze began to unnerve him and he rose turning to the door.

“You’re scared…” Charlotte whispered. Sans paused in the doorway.

“Is it cuz of red and me?” Charlotte muttered. “I didn’t…I never meant to h-hurt anybody…”  

The skeleton let out a deep breath. He forced his face to harden before casting her a look over his shoulder.

 “If…if we’re really friends  then you won’t come back.”

A crackle of magic.

A flash of light.

Then he was gone.

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE 3 Asgore: part 1: Then

Two humans stood hand in hand atop a high cliff. A female—young with hair like a wildfire. And a male—gangly; he was missing the lower half of his left leg. Asgore spied them while he was still a ways off on the battlefield. It was remarkable he’d noticed them at all through the roar of battle—the hail of arrows. Asgore hadn’t meant to drive the battle so far south—so close to the tiny mountain village. But the human warriors were relentless in their assault, forcing the monsters into a tighter portion of the glen, rocks all around—so much more difficult for the larger beings to move and organize their attacks.

The choice had made sense. It was logical. Thin the defense and surround the humans- then drive them further south to reclaim the higher ground. And it worked. Losing their tactical advantage the humans would fall back. Open areas, and a strong offense was always a fair move. Asgore knew how intimidating a full on charge could be—it weakened resolve, dampening the humans will to fight on. If they kept this up, the humans would retreat. The battle would end with as little bloodshed as possible. It was a good tactic. One he’d used time and time again.

But for whatever reason, the king found his eyes turning again towards the humans on the ledge, peering down at the action from their hazardous perch. They were watching the battle—yes, that must have been it. What followed happened so quickly that Asgore thought he’d imagined it. The pair embraced, clinging to one another. Then they stood, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder—

And leapt.

Asgore felt a pang of alarm as the distant figures fell and vanished like phantoms beyond the crags. He stared. Had they really just—

Cheers and whoops of victory from the monsters. The human warriors had fallen back, retreating westward. Triumph. Asgore’s troops celebrated, laughing and embracing—giddy with relief and the stale buzz of fading adrenaline. Asgore did not rejoice with them. He just kept staring at the far cliff, where the two humans once stood.  Apprehension falling over him like a shadow.

Why would they jump? What could have possessed them to...to kill themselves in such a gruesome way? The king realized the answer as his troops crested the hill overlooking the tiny village. He realized a second too late. Too late to call the troops back. Too late to stop them before they could see.

Humans linger. Humans do not turn to dust upon death. So there was no shield. No ambiguity to cushion the blow when his people saw was waited for them at the bottom of the ravine.

There were hundreds of them. Faces frozen in masks of death of horror. Bodies twisted and broken. Women, children, the elderly and infirm. Not soldier. Not warriors. No. These were the ones who stayed behind. Those who could not fight. Gazing down on that disturbing scene, it was the first time Asgore had seen General Gerson blanch.

The younger monsters did not understand. Some drew near. Hesitant, timid. They touched the twisted humans’ faces. With all the blamelessness of youth, they shook their shoulders, patted their cheeks, in a bid to wake them from this horrifying sleep. They did not understand. The humans were already dead.

Asgore strode away from the others and behind an outcropping of rocks. He kept his strides proud and strong until he passed from sight. Then he allowed himself to taste the horror and expelled the contents of his stomach onto the hard stony ground.

The fallen had seen the smoke of battle hours ago, when the monsters still fought in the glen. They had seen everything.

 Asgore had made a terrible terrible mistake. He'd driven the battle too far south. Too close to the foothills of the mountain. The war was new. Still alien to his otherwise peaceful people. He was not well versed in the art of war. He had not realized—how could he have foreseen this?

And for the first time, Asgore realized. Asgore began to truly comprehend the terror his people held for humanity. The humans had heard whispers. Stories of what monsters were capable of. They had been told many things—things which they believed. They believed because there was no one there to assuage their fears, no one to tell them the truth. 

The humans believed that when the monsters reached their home,  they would raze it, killing every living soul they found. Those who fell at the hands of monsters suffered a face worse than death. Their souls were stolen. Devoured. Used to strengthen the monster troops, to rile them up to more violence like berserkers working themselves into a blood-lust.

This is what the humans had been told. This was the fate they feared when they saw the monsters coming. When Asgore had driven the troops  far too close to their home.
Asgore ached, retching and heaving until he felt empty. The humans had been defenseless. All those who could not have gone to war with the monsters. The innocent.  Asgore would not have killed them. He would not have allowed his people to exact petty vengeance on a people who could not fight back. In those days the thought of revenge still filled his idealistic mind with revulsion. 

But…

When the humans had seen his armies. Seen them driving away their strong ones—their protectors. When they saw the monsters nearing they'd made a decision. Perhaps it was better to die by their own volition, than to wait to be killed. To have their deaths--their stolen souls-- strengthen their enemies. It made sense once Asgore considered it. In some bleak and cynical way it was almost noble.

Hundreds died. Hundreds fell either by their own volition or by being pushed. This was the arithmetic of madness. The summation of ignorance and fear. All were swallowed up by it. All became a bloody lifeless nightmare at the bottom of the gorge. All were broken. All perished. All died. 

Save one.

It was one of the younger monsters who found him. One of the hopefuls who went about trying to rouse the lifeless humans. The elders—those who understood-- hadn’t the heart to stop them. To tell them it was in vain.  The young prodded with gentle claws, hoping to awaken them.

And one woke.

The boy had fallen like the others, yet miraculously, come away with only a few scrapes and bruises. They'd found him lying face down in a patch of wild asters. It was General Gerson who broke the silence--the shock. It was Gerson who ordered the human to be taken in to custody. Several guardsmen surrounded the boy. He fought madly when they approached, fists raised, head high as if he was ready to take on the entire army by himself. But eventually he was captured.  

Asgore remembered all too well their first meeting. He had entered the small building Gerson had repurposed for the human’s holding cell.The king had been putting off this visit for hours—focusing on settling the troops in for the night. The shock of what they had seen hung heavily over the camp. No one knew what to say or do.   It was well after dark when the king finally went in to see his prisoner.

He was...just a boy. Too young to be a soldier. Too old to be considered a child. He sat huddled in the corner when Asgore stepped into the room.  Asgore had expected fear. He'd braced himself for trembling and tears from one so young.

Yet as the dying candle lit up the boy’s face he saw none of those things. The boy did not cower. Did not flinch away when the king—a veritable giant in comparison—came to stand over him. The boy raised his chin, and puffed out his chest in what Asgore took to be defiance. The king regarded the boy, smiling faintly in spite of himself. 

Asgore had seen grown men—warriors and kings cower in his presence. Yet this boy exuded such boldness such incomparable tenacity—as though he could have moved mountains if given a solid place to stand. The king let out a soft chuckle and knelt down, a fatherly kind of admiration for the boy growing in him. The boy darkened like storm clouds at the sound of Asgore’s laughter. His dark brows knit up.

“Hello little warrior” Asgore said softly. The boy clenched his fists, and he glared. Asgore’s smile fell, realizing that the boy must have taken his gentleness for mockery.

It was the boy’s eyes Asgore noticed first. The eyes that he remembered so clearly. They were angular like the tips of spears.  A pale purple. The color of wild asters. And of something else Asgore did not yet have a name for. He soon would. The human held Asgore’s gaze with an icy defiance. As if there was nothing in the world he feared—least of all the king. When his voice finally came it was hard and sharp like the edge of a dagger.

“Hello Devil. What happens now?” The boy spat.  The venom of his voice sobered the king. “Will you kill me? Break me? Take my soul?” his words came out passionless, and Asgore felt a disturbing calm enter the room—like a gust of cold air. Yet there was no breeze.

“I will not harm you young one. You are safe.” the king sighed.

 “Safe…” the boy scoffed. He turned his face away from the monster, sniffing disdainfully.

“You must understand. It was never my intention to—“  Asgore trailed off. Should he try to reassure the boy of their intentions? Explain to him that they had really meant no harm? That their proximity to his village was little more than a tactical error? A mistake?

Or would that be cruel? This injured soul had lost everything. Everything but his pride. His village had thwarted its enemies—had sacrificed their lives so that the monsters could not take them for themselves and grow stronger. They’d had the last laugh in the end. Done something noble—something important. That was what the boy clung to. It was how he was still able to hold his head high. Even now.

Asgore could not bring himself to take away that pride. It was all the boy had left in the world.  He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t be the one to tell the boy that his friends and family died for nothing. That it was all a just a horrible, tragic waste.

“I am…truly sorry.” Was all Asgore could bring himself to say.  It was the boy’s turn to laugh. A cold, high, humorless sound.

“You take so many things. You think you can really  just take back what you did?” His laughter rotted away into ugly retches. “You can’t take anything from us now Devil! We-we’re already dead!” His voice quavered. He let out another mad laugh and got to his feet. “Do you hear me Devil!? You failed! Y-you can’t hurt us anymore!”

Something wet, hit Asgore’s cheek. The boy spat on him. Neither spoke for a moment. The only sound was the boy’s heaving. Then Asgore rose, took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the spittle from his cheek. The boy back up into the corner, the moment Asgore was on his feet. The human shook, fists raised in a sloppy fighting stance, as if he expected the king to rip him to pieces like a wild animal. It was the most emotion the boy had shown since his capture. The first and only display of weakness. Asgore gave the boy a long look. But said nothing. There was nothing to say. Nothing that could make things right. He turned and left the room without another word.

The troops took the boy with them when they left. No one really knew what else to do with him. They just knew they could not leave him there. The village was still warm—like a fresh corpse. The deaths came so suddenly that the land had yet to catch up. It was a transitory period. Somewhere between death and mourning.  No one wanted to linger any longer than necessary.

On the boys second night with them he escaped, running off into the night.  Whether he'd escaped by his own daring or if the guards had taken pity and freed him Asgore never knew. Nor did he care. The boy was a pale emotionless reminder of the horrors they'd seen. And the monsters were well aware of the anguish that ached behind his mask of bravura. They were as much a painful reminder to him as he was to them. When he escaped, no one looked for him. No one wanted to hurt him any more than he already was.

Asgore would later regret not trying harder to stop him. He was just a boy. Just a child trying to be brave, trying to be strong. He’d let the boy go. Too guilty to stop him. To accept responsibility. To try and help him. That was his blunder.   Another mistake to add to his veritable treasure trove of military failures. Asgore had sown dangerous seeds, caring not a button for where they grew. And years later, he would pay dearly for his mistake. 

Summer after summer died away and the war raged on, taking more lives, destroying more families with no end in sight. It was a bleak time to be alive. But they pressed on.

Word spread through his troops like wildfire. Whispers of a human warrior who had worked his way up through the ranks. A leader that had sliced through Gerson’s troops to the north leaving hundreds dead. A man who had dusted an entire garrison of monsters with the single minded tenacity of the devil himself. It was years before Asgore would face this man, and realize what his foolishness had created.

 They called the warrior Aster. Aster for the funny color of his eyes. For the flowers that were known for their vitality. Their stubborn ability to survive even in the harshest of environments. They called him Aster—for the color of his soul. The color of human Perseverance.

#############################################################################

Chara was eight years old when she fell. Eight years, three months and eleven days on this earth. So young, and she was already empty.  She was broken long before she came to mount Ebbot. Broken before she fell.  Broken before she even hit the ground.

Asgore remember the first time he’d seen her. He’d been in the garden, pruning a current bush when Asriel came running up huffing and puffing about how his friend had fallen down and hurt themselves. Asgore turned from his flowers expecting to see a froggit with a skinned knee or another of  Asriel’s usual playemates. He was not prepared for what he found. His mouth fell open, watering can slipping from his paws and clattering to the ground.

His son had brought home a human.  The human had an arm over Asriel’s shoulders he braced her up—helping her walk. Asriel like most had been born underground. He’d never seen a human before, never known the horrors they were capable of. He merely saw another child. A friend in need. Asgore, however—saw a ghost. The phantom of a hundred battles.

The human went rigid when the king scooped her up and brought her inside the house. She resisted his touch but showed no other signs of fear. She still shoved at his hands and hissed when he tended to her wounds but it seemed more out of annoyance than real panic. The human had come away from the fall with little more than a few cuts and scrapes. That was miraculous for a fall so high. The king assumed that the layers of residual magic from the barrier had slowed her fall. When swatting and pushing didn’t convince the king to stop touching her, Chara went still. She folded her arms and raised her chin to a proud angle.

The king faltered. The look she gave him was unnerving. Challenging almost.  He  knew that look.  It was the look of someone who had experienced true horrors.  Mistrust. Coldness. Passionless calm. A mask of defiance. He’d seen that look only once before.  He forced himself to look away. They were the same. Both carried an apathy so great that could swallow up the world.  She was someone you couldn’t hurt. Someone beyond feeling. A haunted voice seemed to cry from the dust, finding its way into Asgore’s mind. A memory stirring beneath layers of time and dust. The king felt cold.

‘Hello. What sort of Devil are you? How will you hurt me? How will you break me? How will you make me suffer? Do what you want. You can’t hurt me. I’m already dead.’

Asgore worked silently focusing on the task before him, while Asriel darted around in a panic filling the air with worried chatter.

 'Would she be all right? Had she broken anything? What was the red stuff coming out of her knees? Could she stay the night?'

Soon his jabbering drew Toriel into the room. She took one look at the battered child and pounced, showering the girl in motherly concern. Asgore moved  out of the way, gratefully letting his wife take over the human’s medical needs.  He stood off to the side with Asriel, hovering awkwardly over the scene.

The human didn’t try to wiggle free when Toriel began bandaging her. She went limp and allowed the queen to do what she wanted. But the child’s attention lingered on Asgore. She watched him from the corners of her eyes.

She was just like Aster. Asgore didn't realize this until much later.But it was true. Something terrible had happened to this child. Someone had stolen the light from her eyes. Someone had chased the shadows into her face. Someone had hung those bags beneath her eyes. Had broken her.

But she was alive. She was a survivor, just like Aster had been. She had determination. Give her a place to stand and she could move the earth. She was a marvel.  

As the days went on, Asgore regarded the fallen child with a kind of detached kindness. He kept his distance. And the child was all too happy to maintain that distance.  He made many attempts to help the child feel more comfortable with them. But he always seemed to do or say the wrong thing.

On her third day with them, Asgore went out and bought her a doll. It was a human doll made of porcelain and horse hair and lace. A rarity in the underground to be sure. He supposed someone had scavenged it from the dump at some point and fixed it up like new. When he gave it to the child she just sat on the floor and peered at it absently. Asgore waited for her to say or do something but she remained silent staring at the doll’s face. After a while Asgore cleared his throat.

“Little one…aren’t you going to play with your new friend?” He asked softly.

“I am playing with her.” Came the human’s reply. She didn’t even lift her eyes as she spoke. Asgore shifted.

“Ah.”

Another stretch of silence. Asgore’s back was beginning to ache a bit from hunching over so much. He groped for something to say.

“So…Do you like her?”

“Her dress is green.” Chara mumbled. Asgore raised a brow.

“erm. Yes.”

“I like green.”

“Oh… good!” Asgore chuckled uncomfortably. The child’s eyes met his briefly before returning to her staring match with the doll. More silence.

“What are you going to name her?”

“Green.” Chara said again. Voice flat. She then got to her feet and skittered off to her room, leaving the king kneeling awkwardly in the Livingroom.  

One morning a few weeks later when Asgore got up for the day— He stripped off his bed shirt and went to toss it into the laundry bin. When he’d opened it he was met with a pair of large doe-like eyes staring up at him. He yelped and slammed it shut again without thinking.  Chara was huddled up inside of the bin.  The human had gathered up all her pillows and blankets and made a strange little nest for herself. The king blushed furiously and thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't been naked when he discovered her. He took several deep breaths, calming himself before he opened the bin back up and looked in.

"Hello Chara"

She blinked at him wordlessly. The king sucked in his cheeks.

"What...what are you doing in there little one? Hoping to give an old man a heart attack?" he forced a chuckle, it petered off pretty fast. Another staring match. “Are… you going to come out now?”  

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

Asgore ran a hand over his tired face.

Just let her have it… its not worth it…

“If Tori comes in to collect the laundry you’ll have to find another place to play. Alright?”

The human blinked at him, then reached up and pulled the lid shut over her head. Asgore stared at the bin for a full minute before snapping himself out of it. All of the dirty clothes from the bin had been piled up on the bathroom floor next to the bin. He groaned inwardly before stooping to gather them up. He lifted up a pair of dirty pants and winced when he saw a porcelain face staring up from the pile. He took a deep breath picking up the doll. After a moment of thought he rapped his knuckles on the lid of the bin. No response.

“Chara...?” he knelt down. Nothing. He tried again.

“I’ve…I’ve got Greenie…” the bin jerked slightly. Asgore looked over the doll before holding it closer to the lid. “Do you want her? Or should I take her back to your room?”

The bin opened a crack and a tiny arm poked out to reach for the doll. A flutter of amusement came over the old king. He put the doll into her hand and watched it quickly retreat back into the bin.

Hiding in laundry bins, trunks and other small enclosed spaces became a regular occurrence after that. Chara would disappear into them for hours at a time. Coming out periodically to grab a toy before secreting herself back inside.  It made Toriel anxious. She seemed convinced that the child would suffocate one of these days, or fall asleep and be taken out with the garbage. Asgore was less worried about this. After what had happened that first time in the bathroom, he was extra vigilant about double checking all small hiding spaces in a room before doing anything else. Especially in the bathroom.

One night while everyone was asleep in bed Asriel came running into the king and queen’s bedroom in a panic.

"THEY’RE BITING HER! THEY’RE BITING HER!" the prince shouted jerking both the king and queen from slumber.

"Wha- who?" Asgore said, shaking the sleep from his mind to focus in on the flustered boy.

"The bed bugs! They're everywhere!" Asriel looked close to tears as he dragged his parents into his and Chara’s shared bedroom.  Chara herself was found hiding In their closet. Her arms and legs were dotted with tiny red sores. Asriel was positively scandalized.

"You told me bed bugs don't really bite!" Asriel accused, stomping his foot. "you said it was just a a'spression!"  Asgore attempted to soothe the boy while Toriel stripped the sheets off of chara's bed.

Ants. The bed was crawling with ants. It didn't take too long to realize the source. Chara had been hoarding food. Bits of pie, cookies a waffle, an entire package of uncooked bratwurst. She'd stuffed her pillow full of food. Toriel shook her head and laughed when she realized. The whole situation was absurd. However Asgore wasn't laughing. He was starting to become concerned. This wasn't normal behavior. After the ants were vacuumed up and the sheets replaced, Asgore tried to coax the girl out of her hiding place. She ignored him. He couldn't really blame her. Asriel was still crowing about bedbugs and waving his hands around as if they were under attack. Asgore sighed. It was much too early in the morning for this. He reached into the closet for the girl.

"It's alright now... They were just ants princess, no need to- AHH!” Asgore jumped drawing back.

“What is it! what’s happened?” Toriel came running over. Asgore blinked in consternation.

“She…she bit me. She actually bit me…”

Toriel massaged her temples. “Oh honestly…” She shooed him out of the way and reached into the closet. Chara didn't resist. In fact she clung onto Toriel like a lifeline regarding Asgore with wide eyes. Tori was quick to assure Chara that she didn't need to hide food in her room. That there would always be food in the refrigerator and no, they would not forget to feed her. Not ever. Asgore just stood off to the side and watched, feeling strangely guilty. Even though he hadn't done anything wrong.

Asgore noticed early on the child avoided physical contact with him as much as possible.  She skirted around him when they passed in the halls, pressing herself close to the wall as he went by, eyes averted. When he entered the room she seemed to stiffen, a few times he noticed her jump at the sound of his voice.  It hurt. But Asgore tried not to let it bother him. He was the first fully grown monster she’d ever seen. He reminded himself that this was still all new to her—still frightening despite how aloof she acted.  Asgore assured himself that her nervousness would abate once she grew used to things.

Yet as time passed the king began to notice more and more. The child wrestled and played with Asriel. Accepted hugs and kisses—albeit reluctantly—from his the queen. She hugged onto Greatest Dog—captain of the royal guard—hanging off her back like a monkey as the monster loped off to make her rounds.  He often heard her voice through the walls, talking with Asriel in their room. She barely said two words to him on a good day.  He decided to face fact.  Asgore—himself seemed to be the only one she disliked. That stung more than he would have liked to admit. The king was at his wits end with the child. No matter what he did, she never seemed to warm up to him.

 It wasn’t until her first checkup with Dr. Sylph that Asgore finally understood.

The doctor and taken the king and queen aside to ask them  a few questions leaving Asriel and Chara to play alone in the lobby.

“How much do you know about Miss Charlotte’s life before you adopted her?” He asked.

“Not very much.” Toriel admitted. “She doesn’t talk much about her life before we found her. We’ve asked, but she doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

“When you first told her there was no way for her to return home. Did she cry and make a big fuss?” He asked. The king and queen exchanged glances. Tori spoke up.

“Well…no. Not really. She’s a fairly easy going child she doesn’t really cry to be honest.”

“Not ever?” The doctor’s eyes narrowed. Asgore shifted.

“My friend…what is all of this about?”

The doctor didn’t answer right away. He eyed the king and queen shrewdly.

“You say she hides herself often.” The doctor mused. “… And that she hides food for later even though she has never so much as skipped a meal before. Has the child ever... shown any aversion to physical contact?”

Asgore felt Toriel take his hand and squeeze. He nodded wordlessly. The doctor removed his glasses. He ran a hand over his face, gaze drifting to the lobby where Asriel and Chara appeared to be building a tower with blocks. He grimaced before shutting his office door to give them more privacy.

Toriel cried. Asgore merely held her, listening numbly. Whatever resentment Asgore had harbored against the child. Whatever frustration he’d felt every time his attempts to reach out to her were ignored, disintegrated. The revelation gave way to shock. To horror. To grief.

Chara didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice, didn’t avoid his gaze because of disgust. She wasn’t afraid of him— afraid to let him touch her because he was a monster.

 It was because he was a man.

That was the first time. The moment when Asgore’s cheerless detachment from the child melted into something genuine. Into compassion. To think that it was horror that first drew his compassion. The possibility this child that had found her way into their lives had not fallen—as they had always assumed.

Perhaps she jumped.

After nearly a ten centuries of imprisonment, and Asgore was still making all the same mistakes.

Toriel had once called him a coward for his lack of action. For his propensity to hide from his problems, to pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t. And she was right of course.

He’d made this mistake before with that choice he made long ago. The choice to simply to let the Aster run away. The mistake of not trying to reach him. To help him.  Of feeling so relieved when he heard the child had escaped—because then at least he would not have to see him again, not have to live alongside the embodiment of his guilt.

In the end he was worse off for it. And as he watched that boy turned man orchestrate slaughter his people, as he worked with some sort of self perceived righteousness to seal the monsters away forever—Asgore was left to wonder what might have been.

What would have happened if he’d gone after the boy? If he’d taken them in as his own. Taken responsibility for what had happened to him. Tried to make up for taking his family—for inadvertently destroying that tiny soul’s entire world.

 Could he really have made a difference? Could taking responsibility, showing kindness really have reached the boy? Could it have changed the course of history? Could he have altered the fate of an entire people by being the force of change in the life of one little boy?

Asgore could not have known. He never would know now. And the uncertainty is what haunted him.

But now…. Maybe this was a sign. The universe giving an old failure one last chance. A chance to make things right.

The course of history was forever marred by the choices of one broken child. An entire species of people driven to the brink of extinction. Sealed away to rot in a prison. The child had been special. Strong. They could take life’s heavy blows and come up swinging. They could do incredible things.

But if a single broken child could bring about so much suffering, if they could take away a people’s entire world—could not such a child also heal it? Chara was a survivor. Just like him. Perhaps someday she could do great things as well. Perhaps she could be the driving force—the bridge that could finally close the gap between monsters and humanity. Perhaps she could save them.

Asgore was being given a second chance to make up for a past mistake. To take responsibility. A chance to make things better.

 A chance to choose kindness.

From then on the king put forth a special effort to draw closer to the child.  He told himself he was doing it because it was the right thing to do, but deep down, he knew he was only doing it to assuage some of his own feelings of guilt. Yet even so, he kept at it.

Asgore spoke softly, smiled often. Asked her about her day. She would answer politely, but the walls behind her eyes never lowered.

After a few months things settled into a comfortable routine. Chara liked to sit by the fireplace and stare at her doll most evenings after supper. Asgore had gotten into the habit of settling into his easy chair with his book. Of passing the evening with the child in a comfortable silence. After a while he began quietly recounting the day’s events to the child. He knew that politics and meetings of state were likely a dull topic for a young girl, but he felt the need to speak with her. To help her grow used to his voice, and more comfortable in his presence.  He needed to show her that he meant no harm. The child never spoke back, never even looked at him while he talked. She just sat there on the floor, fiddling with her doll as if he wasn’t there at all.  But to her credit, she was polite enough never too wandered away until the king had finished his stories.

One evening while Asgore was relating his day’s meetings, the human interrupted him.

“Dr. Gaster is from Hotland. Not from Waterfall” She whispered in a quiet raspy voice.

“Remember? You…you had a meeting with him about the pressurized chambers in the core. He said he had the specs at home. A-and…” she petered off when she noticed Asgore looking at her. She looked away, hurriedly pressing her face into her doll’s dress. Asgore blinked. He’d assumed she hadn’t been paying attention to the minutia of his stories.

“That’s right…Hotland...” he said softly. “I remember now. Thank you…” An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Asgore grew nervous, unsure of how to fill it.  He wracked his brain for something to say to her. Maybe he should try something more personal? Something upbeat.  He cleared his throat, setting his book aside to regard the child. She was still hiding her face from him.

“Did you…did you hear the joke about the broken pencil?” Asgore winced inwardly. Why had he settled on a joke?  The king was terrible with jokes. But Toriel always had Asriel rolling on the floor with hers. No matter how silly the joke, both mother and son laughed and bleated as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. The human lifted her eyes, peeking up at him through her hair. She shook her head.

“No, never mind. It is irrelevant.” Asgore said quickly. The human’s nose wrinkled in confusion.  He winced waving a paw dismissively. 

“Wait—no, no that’s not how it’s supposed to go… its uh…’POINTLESS’ yes! That’s it. The joke is POINTLESS” Asgore rambled. The human stared. He was crashing and burning.

“Ah… you see? It’s…its funny because erm, pencils have points… and jokes also have points—Different kinds of points— but—a-and a broken pencil does not. So the joke is…is…” Asgore pinched his temples, and shut his mouth. That was an absolute disaster. A tiny giggle met his ears and he froze. The human had lifted her face a little more. He could see a tiny smile pressed into the dolls dress.

“You’re really weird…” she whispered. The king grinned at her, in embarrassment.  A giggle. A genuine smile. That’s all it took. And Asgore found himself happily wrapped around her little finger.

Chapter Text

Chara…How come you never cry?

I don’t know how.

Really?

Is that bad?

No. It’s just kinda sad. I mean, I always feel better after I cry.

oh.

So…how do you make yourself feel better when you’re sad?

How’s about you cry for both of us. Deal?

Deal.

########################################################

Asgore shouted at Chara—he never shouted.

Chara cried—she never cried.

And yet they did.

It had only ever happened once before. And for whatever reason, both incidents seemed mutually exclusive.

Chara had been ten years old at the time. Asgore has gotten an angry phone call from her’s and Asriel's principal. Asgore’s blood ran cold when he heard about what happened. He canceled all meetings for the rest of the day, apologized to several people for leaving at the last minute and rushed over to the school.

Chara had attacked someone. Another student. The boy was two years her senior and at least twice her size. Yet somehow Chara had tackled him to the ground. She pummeled his face with her fists screaming threats and profanities until the teachers finally managed to separate the two.

Asgore was stunned. That was impossible! Chara had never shown any signs of being violent before. She’d always been so soft spoken. Yet as he listened to the principal’s explanation, his belief wavered. 

It had happened after school let out and many parents who had come to pick up their children saw what happened. Chara’s attacks and threats had apparently been so intense that many parents had grown concerned. They’d complained to the principal, wanting some sort of reassurance that their children would indeed be safe attending school with a human.

That was the wrong thing to say. Toriel went into an angry tirade against the schoolboard, convinced that they were discriminating against her child. Asgore…was not so certain.

Of course, he’d be surprised when he heard of what Chara had done, but some secret part of him didn’t….doubt it. He had seen first hand how  violent normally ‘civilized’ humans  could be when they got in the right mindset.

Toriel argued with the principal for over an hour. But the verdict was ultimately returned when a weeping parent called in swearing that she heard the human tell the monster boy that she would ‘Dust his pansy ass’. It was decided that Chara had best continue her education elsewhere.

Chara was expelled.

Tori cried, still convinced that the school had overreacted. She fawned over Chara, asking her again and again why she would do such a thing.  Had the boy done something? Had someone put her up to it? However, Chara gave no explaination for her actions. She just stared emotionlessly at the wall the whole while they spoke. Asgore was beginning to grow frustrated. They were trying to help her case. Why was she refusing to even look at them? The longer she ignored them, the angrier Asgore got. Until eventually he'd lost it.

Asgore rarely yelled. Even before Chara had come to live when them. It simply wasn’t in his nature to be confrontational. He’d been loving and understanding of all of Chara’s special needs. He’d bent over backwards to accommodate her, to make her welcome. He had invited her into his home, into his family. And the child couldn’t even conjure up the decency to look at his wife, while she spoke.

Asgore Exploded. He yelled at her. Lectured her until he was blue in the face. He asked her what on earth she could possibly have been thinking. Asked her what was wrong with her.  Toriel was scandalized by his outburst. Gaping at the king as though he’d grown a second head. Yet Chara said nothing. Just lifting her chin and avoiding his gaze. She looked almost bored with what he was saying. Disinterested.

 When the king’s anger finally dissipated, Chara rose to her feet. She shot Asgore a hard look before waking calmly off to her room. The slam of the door closing behind her was the only clue. The only outward sign that she'd been upset at all.

The moment Chara was gone Toriel shot her husband an equally chilly look and stormed off into the kitchen.

It was a quarter past 1 am when Asgore awoke. Asriel was standing at the foot of his bed, sobbing.


Chara was gone.

 She'd taken off while everyone else was sleeping. She’d left without a word.
Both mother and son flew into a panic, and Asgore had a hard time keeping them calm. He put on his coat and went out ot look for the child, telling Toriel and Asriel to stay home in case she came back.

The city was asleep. All the buildings were closed and shuttered. He searched, knocking on doors, asking anyone he could find if they’d seen a human child go by that night. No one had.

He checked the playground. She wasn’t there. then the schoolyard? The grocery store? The resort? Greatest dog’s house?  Nothing. No one knew where she was. No one had so much as seen her in hours. Asgore’s panic intensified with every dead end. 

I shouldn’t have shouted at her.

Asgore had  always been so careful about raising his voice in the past. He knew what it did to the child. He was well aware of her anxieties. But he’d been too angry.

No.

No anger wasn’t the right word.

The king had been scared.

Most people had been supportive of his and toriel’s decision to keep Chara. But there were some—mostly the older ones, who still had an inkling of just how bad things were before the barrier—who thought it unwise. He’d always scoffed at these concerns. The child was anything but dangerous. One would simply have to look at the way she babied Asriel, or the careful way she fed the birds to realize that. Their concerns were ridiculous.

Asgore hadn’t wanted to believe them. He hadn’t wanted to be that kind of man. The kind who would condemn an entire species based on the misdeeds of some of them. It was that sort of thinking that had led to the creation of the barrier. That sort of paranoia that had caused so much pain for so many people.

And yet. When Asgore heard about what had happened at school.

He had been scared.

Because if he was wrong, if Chara was as other humans had been—violent, vengeful, cruel—what would he do? What could he have done? Whatever the decision the end would be clear.

He’d lose her.

“Dad wait!”

Asgore ran a hand over his face. He stopped in his tracks.

"Go home son."

 Asriel had followed him. The king turned to look at his child. He shook his head hard, sending messy tears flaying in all directions. Asgore let out a deep breath.

"Go…I need you to take care of your mother. I'll find her. Don't worry" he assured. Again Asriel shook his head.

"I can’t… I have to find her.” The boy whimpered. “It's all my fault..." with that the child broke, the sobs he'd been holding in exploded from him like a tidal wave. Asgore pinched his eyes shut, before shushing the boy gently. 

"No, no…tt's not your fault son, you had nothing to do with-"

"I TOLD HER NOT TO TELL ANYONE!" Asriel shouted stomping his foot. Asgore mouth froze. Whatever he’d been about to say got lost in his mouth. .

"What…what are you taking about?"

More tears. Asgore sat down on the pavement, and listened as Asriel told his tale. The missing pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place.

Astigmatism. Stiggy. The boy she'd attacked—He'd been picking on Asriel. Apparently he’d been tormenting the prince  for well over a month now. Shoving him in the halls, calling him crybaby- among other things- shoving his school books from his hands. Chara was a year younger than asriel. So she didn’t share any classes with Asriel. She hadn’t known. And Asriel hadn't told her. He hadn't told anyone. He'd been embarrassed, ashamed to let his family know what had been happening.

That afternoon, Asriel had been waiting in the schoolyard for Chara so that they could walk home together. Like they did every day. Stiggy noticed him. Noticed that he was alone. Chara had turned the corner in time to see the boy shove Asriel up against the wall.

And that was it. The human had taken off in a run, reeling back and beaming the boy right in the face with her schoolbag, sending books and papers, flying in all directions. The second the dazed boy let go of asriel Chara threw her weight into him—knocked him to the ground before climbing up on his chest. She then proceeded to pummel him.

Asgore listened numbly to the story. Bile rising in the back of throat.

"Asriel... What exactly did Chara say to the boy?" The king asked. Asriel flushed ducking his head.

 "Upset words. Swears—I think? I uh, didn’t know what most of em meant."

Asgore waved this off.

"The parts that weren't swears. What were they? Please son, I need you to remember. Its very very important." He patted the boy's back. Asriel huffed Welty trying to remember.

"She said...'you don't touch him. You don't ever touch him…' I-I remember that part. She said it a lot."

Asgore was silent staring at the boy. Asriel wrung his hands.

"She didn't mean to hurt hum so bad. Really. She told me so." Asriel sniffed. "She said that she remembered hitting him with her bag and knocking him down. But after that, she said something funny. I don’t understand what it means." Asriel frowned.  "She said that she didn’t remember hitting him. She says she started ‘seeing red’. Then the next thing she knew the teacher was pulling her off of Stiggy. She didn't mean it!  She says its cuz she's stupid and bad,  but she's NOT! She’s not!"

Asriel started crying again, big blubbery tears rolling down his cheeks Asgore shut his eyes. Ah. Something that finally—finally made sense. The king ached.

"Thank you for telling me son." Asgore said. "That was very brave. Now please…go home.” Asriel obeyed.


The king scoured the city, he’d made it halfway through waterfall with no success. He let out a gasp when  spied something red floating down the stream. He fished it out, biting back a stab of panic. It was one of Chara’s little red shoes.

Asgore ran. He searched tunnel after tunnel shouting her name until his voice grew hoarse.

Chara had hidden herself. She was good at hiding. The child had found a high shelf of rock in the wishing room, obscured from view. Asgore was in such a frantic hurry he likely would have run right on through and missed her entirely.

But then he heard the flowers.

Echo flowers repeat the last phrase they heard spoken aloud. They repeat it again and again until a new phrase takes its place.

A familiar voice. A hoarse emotionless whisper. A chorus of voices surrounded the king, hissing from flower to flower.  Asgore clapped his hands over his ears, sinking to his knees listening to his daughters voice repeated again and again all around him. He wept.

“'I wish I'd never been born…”


A rock fell. Asgore’s head came up.

“Chara?” he pulled himself to his feet, moving over to where he’d heard the noise. It took a few moments before he finally spotted her. On a shelf a good six feet above his head. She was curled up, knees drawn up under her chin, face hidden in her dress.  Asgore tried to reach for her, but the opening in the rock was far too small for him to maneuver his very deep into. He kept at it.

“Chara!” he called out to her. The girl’s shoulders jumped. Her face raised, wide eyes peering at him through a veil of messy hair. Her mouth came open, and she stared. One look said it all. She hadn’t expected him to come looking for her. The king began pulling rocks away, trying to widen the hole. A rock rolled down and smacked him on the head and he drew back,clutching his head and swearing. He remained hunched like that for a moment, letting out a choked noise. shoulders shaking.  When he finally looked back up, the child had moved closer to the opening, peering down with a look of concern.

Asgore let out a dry sob. Before slowly raising his arms again. “Princess…I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

Chara leapt at him.

Throwing herself into his waiting arms. The king caught her up and  and pulled her into his chest. He buried his face into her hair, sobbing out his relief. He was holding her. She clung to him. Almost desperately. As if she was afraid he would turn into smoke and slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold on tight. And for the first time since she’d walked into his life—Asgore heard the child cry.  

"Don’t you ever ever run away again. D-do you hear me young lady?" Asgore whispered. He said it again and again and again. He stopped and said no more when the child spoke.

The child said Asgore's name. His favorite name.

The sea of glowing flowers heard something new that night. The words carried on, and on repeated from flower to flower until they filled the entire room.
And soon, that hiss—that emotionless whisper 'I wish I was never born’ faded away, replaced with something new. Something different.

“I love you daddy."

Chapter Text

Interlude 3 part 3: What’s Left of Us

The king did not sleep that night. He spent hours in his library pacing. He'd attempted to clean up a little. Righting the fallen shelves, replacing books. He'd begun sweeping up the broken remnants of his desk but never got around to actually finishing. The room looked and felt to be in a state of carefully controlled madness. The stark contrast between carefully alphabetized shelves and the broken furniture, the mad scratches on the wall-- was eerie. When daylight found him he was slumped in his chair. Eyes red-rimmed. His crown had fallen off into his lap.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Asgore held Chara when she died. He’d been there over thirty years ago. He’d watched, helpless as her soul left that pain wracked body. The king had been so afraid—and he was never afraid.  There was nothing he could do, but hold her close, begging her to stay with them. To stay determined. The child slipped through his fingers. Then she was gone.

And now? After seeing her again, after so many years. After everything he’d said and done—

After every mistake he had made—the king was afraid.

Not because he thought she might die.

 But because he thought she might live.

The large double doors of the library opened and shut. There was a shuffling noise of feet on carpet. The king closed his tired eyes.

"Thank you for coming old friend" Asgore sighed. The visitor cast a glance around the destroyed room, before making their way over to where the king sat.

"You look like hell." Gerson grumbled. He set his cane aside. "What happened?"

The king did not reply for a long moment. then he reached into a Manella envelope and handed a printed sheet of paper to his companion.The old general looked it over. The lines on his face grew deeper—more drained as though he had just aged one hundred years.

It was a copy of a photograph featuring a young girl in a yellow dress with sunflowers printed on it. She wore a candid smile as if the photo had been quickly snapped mid laugh. Her hair was down up in a messy braid, locks catching the light and shining.

Gerson's eyes slid to the king. Asgore stared hard at the wall hands gripping the knees of his pants. The old general patted the king's hand.

"She was such a pretty girl when she smiled. Wasn't she?" The general sighed. "But then, you gave her a lot to smile about old friend."

Asgore's grip on his knees tightened.

"You see it?" He hissed through his teeth. "You see it!?"

"See what sire..?" Gerson drew in his chin. Asgore cradled his face in his hands.

"You have to tell me... Who is that?"

Gerson lowered the picture, concern coloring his aged face.

"It is your daughter sire." He put a hand on Asgore's hunched shoulder "I understand that these last few months have been difficult especially after what happened with-"

Asgore's head jerked up, grabbing the old turtle’s hands. His eye like a madman.

"you know her? Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive?"

Gerson took in the king’s haggard appearance, eyes thinning.

“My friend… I knew her. Of course I recognize her.” He said slowly. Asgore took a ragged breath. Laying his head back.

 "Then I haven't lost my mind..."

The Turtle eyed him.


"Asgore—What's happened to you?" He gruffed. "Did someone break in again?”

The king waved this off silently. Before finally turned to face him. He touched the picture.

"This isn't my daughter" Asgore stated.  "This photo was taken three years ago. Alphys found it for me. She got it off of the uh—" he gestured vaguely "social medias..."Asgore took out the embassy’s registry flipping to yesterday’s page. "According to this... That is a human called Charlotte Fox. She is nineteen years old, and attends the university in north Ebbot."

Gerson frowned at the photograph giving it a more critical examination.

“You say…you say she lives locally?” Gerson mused, paying the king a sideways glance. He grunted dismissively. “A relative then.”

"I do not think so. She…she came to see me yesterday." Asgore said. The look she'd given him after she'd cut him. That voice. It was unmistakable

"if it was just a coincidence then why would she seek me out? Why sneak in? None of the humans know of her connection to me." Asgore pinched his temples, letting out a humorless laugh. “And even if they did learn of her… As far as these people are concerned, I am a human killer. Who else would dare breaking into my private study just to meet me? Who else would risk my anger?”

“I can think of one who would. Or have you forgotten?” The turtle scoffed blackly. The king shook his head.

“They would not send someone so inexperienced. Not after last time.” The king sighed. “It cannot just be an odd coincidence. Too many things do not make sense.”

"Sire. You’re not well. You need some sleep.” The turtle sighed. Soothing was an odd color on the wizened old general. But he did his best. “Chara died thirty years ago.  It's simply not possible-"

"Yes. That's what I thought." Asgore grunted. “But then— this wouldn’t be the first time an old acquaintance has risen from the dust. After all that’s been happening, we may need to rethink our views of what is and is not possible.” The turtle pinched his temples, waving a knarled hand.

“That’s different and you know It.” the general wheezed. “You can’t possibly think that—Asgore, we buried her.” The king flinched at this.

“A few months ago, before Frisk…passed—She told me some things about what happened that night the barrier fell.”

Gerson’s head came up at this and he went silent. No one knew how frisk had managed to bring down the barrier. The whole affair had been one unanswered question after another.  The king scratched his head wearily.

“We had a private meeting. During which I asked her point blank,  how she managed to bring the barrier down. She told me…. She told me that she didn't.” Asgore swallowed. "Asriel did..." Gerson stared.




"But... Prince asriel is-"

"Dead. Yes I know, however." Asgore glanced at the old general. "You are aware of the...of the unique circumstances surrounding my son’s death." Asgore massaged his temples. "I wouldn't have come to you about this if I didn't have to. However you are the oldest of us... If anyone could begin to explain this…to understand... It would be you."

Gerson’s body grew stiff, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over his head. He didn't speak for a long moment.

"You…you have to understand sire... I have never seen such a thing accomplished myself. However... I did know of one who had..." The turtle grunted. “There are reasons— moral implications aside— that such a thing is rarely attempted. To absorb a human soul is a frightful thing. Especially if the soul was stolen.” The old general shuddered.

“To steal a soul—It brings great power yes... But also great suffering. For their emotions their pain becomes yours to carry with you. They may hurt you, fight you, and drive you mad, destroy from the inside out to avoid being taken. In most cases the bond is never completely formed until the human consciousness... Until it is squashed down and absorbed completely.”

Asgore let out a shuddering noise—something akin to a sob, but dryer.

"N-no…Asriel—he wouldn’t— Oh my…”

The turtle raised a hand, to stop the king’s horror from taking root any further.

"It is not always so! That is just what happens when the bond is unwilling..." he explained. Asgore shook his head hard.

"They would not have hurt each other… They loved each other—they were inseparable. When it happened. When she... Her soul slipped right through my fingers... And went straight to him.” Asgore whispered.  “And Asriel was already coming up to greet her like—like they'd been in it together from the start. Like they always knew..."

"Perhaps they did.." Gerson sighed. "Perhaps they did"
Both went silent, staring at the crackling hearth. Gerson was the first to speak again.

"Sire…I don't know exactly what happens when a soul is given willingly. I've never even heard of such a thing. However... Given the nature of souls, I can make a good guess"


“Bonding two souls together. It's a bit like taking two boards of wood and using a binding agent to combine them.  If done properly, the place where the two boards meet— the bond- becomes the strongest part of the board. And from then on, you can never quite separate them again. Not completely anyway. Sure, you can break the board along the bond but it will never be a 'clean break.' they will never be the same two separate entities they began as. They will leave traces…. pieces of each other inside of one another."

The king closed his eyes, letting the air slowly out of his lungs.

So. That's how Asriel did it.

Monster souls do not have the  necessary vitality- the power to survive after death. Once their magic dies and their bodies crumble, they too begin to break. That was the nature of their existence.  For Asriel— for any monster to exist so many years after their demise is impossible laughable even. But then... In the end— Asriel wasn't just a monster anymore. was he?

Monsters were made of magic, hope and love. But they were fragile. Fleeting. Hope is a powerful thing, but one it is broken—it is gone.

Human souls were powerful. They live on long after death. Indefinitely—if the stories were to be believed. That perhaps was why the idea of having their souls taken away was considered by humans to be a fate worse than death. Such a prospect either enslaved them or stole their gift of vitality. Their ability to linger forever. In that way, perhaps to a human, to lose ones soul is the only truth and final death.

Asgore shuddered again.

Magic love and hope.

Vitality, strength, adaptability.

The crossroads between what it meant to be one of 'them' and one of 'us'.

Together in harmony. Without contention. Without one seeking to control or dominate the other. A balance. That was the closest thing to perfection— to divinity, that any mortal creature could attain.

Asriel died. Yet his consciousness lived on. Incomplete. A mere facsimile of his former self. But alive.

Asgore smiled bitterly. That must have been it. That must have been Chara’s last gift to him. Her final bid to protect him.

If Asriel existed. If he was matter, real, living- even if it was incomplete. Was it really so farfetched that Chara- the being between them with determination- with the inherent power to endure- still existed in this world? That her incomplete and injured soul—somehow supplemented by Asriel's magic could have retained the ability to interact with this world?

The thought left Asgore breathless. He had to know. To see for himself. To learn if she really had returned to him. And if she had... did that mean there was some glimmer of  hope for Asriel's soul as well?

Finally Gerson spoke, shaking himself tiredly.

“Well then. We all know whats to be done now? Don’t we?” Gerson grunted getting to his feet. “Fetch the little bugger and see if it really is your girl. Only way we’ll know for sure.”

Asgore cringed.

“She may not wish to see me again.” Asgore burried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook.

Asgore had disgraced Chara’s memory. He had slaughtered her people—children no different than she had been. He had been merciless. And when she came to him—sought him out in this strange new world…

The king had done it again. He had lost himself to rage. Destroyed his library—and perhaps what little trust in him she may have retained inspite of his sins.  The king glanced around the destroyed room and winced. What if one of the bookcases he'd so carelessly toppled had landed on her? What if he had crushed her? She had come, looking for her father. Looking for the kind man—the good person he once was.

And he’d nearly killed her. Snuffed out her life like so many others of her kind. It was sickening.

She had been so afraid.

And Asgore was the father of that fear.

Asgore felt a gently hand touch his shoulder. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was a king. It would not do to let anyone—even his friend see him cry.

“Gerson…I have made a terrible, terrible mistake…” he whispered. The old turtle let out a breath.

“Tell me everything.”

###############################################################################3

Finally this three parter is all done! Finito!  Now I finally get to start moving the plot forwards again. No more backtracking for awhile. Woooot!

Chapter Text

AN: 

So kiddies, A bunch of people have been flip flopping with a lot of these characters between either having sympathy for their situations and being annoyed with their choices. Its funny. So here’s a simple multiple choice test question to set a few things straight. Are ya ready?

Question # 1.

In the story Sympathy for The Devil Which character is the ‘devil’ we are supposed to be feeling Sympathy for?

A) Asgore: (aka Papa murder-pants with a heart of gold. –has a soft spot for pie and flowers—

B) Sans: (Punny guy who sometimes plays racquetball with Charlotte’s soul. –may or may not have murdered Frisk—

C) Aster: (the wittlest orphan who dusted thousands of monsters and locked up the rest in an underground prison. –likes cherries jubilee, and is likely views himself as a tragic hero rather than a genocidal villain—)

D) Chara: (OTHER wittlest orphan, who loves her friends and family so much, and has good in her somewhere, and is learning that everyone has some good in them deep down—and if you don’t believe her, she’ll cut you open and prove it—

E) Chara’s biological father (probably drunk, and unemployed or somethin like that. Economy’s hard on everyone.)

F) Charlotte: (Has evil dead people in her, but is too stupid to ever realize she’s being manipulated. –steals books. Jay-walks too apparently—

G) Papyrus: (Burns perfectly good spaghetti)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@2

The answer is clearly G: Papyrus. He’s the truly devilish one in this story.  Silly readers.

(Seriously, why does anyone read half the dumb stuff I pull? XD  )

INTERLUDE 4: The interrogation (pt 1)

The first couple of days Sans half expected the police to kick the frigging door down and drag him off. After all, he’d abducted a young woman, taken her to an undisclosed location and attempted to kill her. But no one came to arrest him.

Sans had been a nervous wreck when he left the human’s apartment. She claimed to have hurt the king. A terrifying thought. In the previous timelines Sans had always managed to stop Chara before she reached the king. So he had no idea what to expect if she actually managed to get close to him this time around. Knowing Chara, her handiwork could have entailed anything from a papercut to beating him within an inch of his life. But when he saw Asgore at work the next day, the King appeared completely unharmed. He looked rattled and fatigued, but other than that no worse for wear. And for whatever reason, he hadn’t mentioned his encounter with Chara to anyone at work. There was no frantic search, no embassy-wide manhunt—he just went on with his business as if it hadn’t happened.  Thanks to Sans, Charlotte had literally disappeared without a trace. Maybe the king had chalked up the whole ordeal to nerves or a bad dream. Sans hoped so.

As far as he knew, the kid hadn’t moved or made herself more difficult to reach after the whole ordeal. If the king wanted to find the little demon—Sans was sure it wouldn’t be a difficult hunt.  But no. Asgore didn’t even appear to be looking for her. No news popped up about the king finding his long lost child—so maybe there was reason for hope. Maybe the human really was out of their lives for good this time.

Days turned into weeks without incident. And slowly, Sans let himself relax in the knowledge that the human really had left them alone for good. If she stayed away, then she couldn’t hurt them, and Sans wouldn’t have to hurt her.

As much as he hated Chara—as much as he wanted to see her burning in hell; the idea of hurting the other one—the green one—left a bad taste in his mouth.  So he waited. He hoped, and prayed—that he’d never see the human again. Papyrus was still a cheerless mess. He’d jump every time his phone buzzed, only to sag upon checking it—so Sans knew that Charlotte must not have contacted him.  It was disheartening to see the otherwise cheerful skeleton so bereaved, but Sans convinced himself It was for the best. At least he was safe. Sooner or later Papyrus would forget about the human and bounce back to his normal perky self. It was only a matter of time.

About half  an hour before tea, Sans heard a knock at the front door, and Doggie’s excited yipping. Moments later he heard Papyrus bound up the stairs and bang excitedly on Sans’ bedroom door. The smaller skeleton snorted setting his book aside.

“Who’s there?” he rumbled pleasantly. The door swung open, banging slightly against the wall.

“SANS! SANS! THEY’RE HERE!” Papyrus cried poking his head into the doorway. His nasal bones wrinkled up. “YOU’RE WEARING THAT..?”

Sans snorted, sitting up to regard his brother. It was the first time in weeks he’d seen Papyrus so excited. It was definitely a step in the right direction.

“who’s here bro?” Sans mused. Papyrus ignored him with a scoff. He marched into the room and began digging through Sans’ closet. The taller skeleton let out an annoyed huff when he realized there were more clothes piled on the floor than hanging up in the closet. Sans stretched on got up, meandering over to stand behind his brother.

“Sweater you lookin for bro?” Sans snorted.

“WHERE DO YOU KEEP YOUR COOL CLOTHES BROTHER?!” Papyrus groaned. Sans’ grin widened, as he came to stand in the doorway.

“Dunno bro. Thought about makin a cardboard belt once. But I figured it wouldda been a waist of paper.” Sans was answered by a shirt being tossed roughly into his face. Papyrus had found out Sans’ only black button up shirt hanging in the closet (It was about the only thing on a hanger) Sans held the shirt up, blinking blankly at it. It was ironed, with a high starch collar, still new looking and wrinkle free. The sight of it almost made him hurt. Of course it felt new.

 He’d only had to wear it once.

Papyrus snapped his fingers in Sans face.

“LAZYBONES! GET DRESSED! THE HUMAN IS WAITING!” Papyrus snapped. Sans’ chest clenched, and he turned slowly to frown at his brother. He couldn’t breathe.  

“H-human?”

Papyrus groaned, waving a frantic hand in Sans’ direction.

“HOPELESS! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU CAN’T GO OUT ON A DATE IN THAT DIRTY HOODIE!”

“Date…?”

Papyrus bobbed around him eagerly. When Sans made no move to take off his hoodie Papyrus swooped in and started stripping his brother’s clothing off himself. Sans went limp and let him do this. There really wasn’t any stopping Paps once he got like this. At any rate he was too caught up by the shock of it to muster the energy to really resist.

“SKIN A SKELLY!” Papyrus chirped trying to pull Sans’ shirt up over his head. Sans raised his arms and let papyrus strip his shirt off.

“What date bro?” Sans pressed. Papyrus let out an exasperated moan.

“SAAAANS!? HOW COULD YOU FORGET?! YOU’RE TAKING THE TINY GREEN HUMAN OUT TO LUNCH TODAY!” Papyrus forced the high-starch shirt on and began buttoning up the front nimbly. Sans froze.

Tiny green human?

Green…

The memory of Charlotte’s bright emerald soul came to mind. The lights left sans’ eyes.

No…

Nonononononono—had she lost her mind? She wasn’t supposed to come back! Ever! He’d warned her. Threatened her.

Hell. No wonder papyrus was so happy. His friend came back and had apparently buried the hatchet with Sans.

This was bad. Oh…this was so bad…

He couldn’t do this. Not again.

Once Sans was dressed, Papyrus tossed him over his shoulder and marched off towards the living room while Sans groped silently for a game plan.

Play along. Get her alone. Remind her of what would happen if she didn’t keep her distance. Yes…good…

Papyrus grabbed Sans under the armpits and plopped him down in the doorway to the livingroom.

A small human lounged on the sofa, watching the procession with tired half-massed eyes.

Sans stared.

Tiny green human.

Green.

Oh.

Green hair.

A wave of relief washed over the smaller skeleton and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Oh thank fuck…

It was just Pipsqueak.

It’s not Chara. It’s not Chara. That alone was enough to chase the tension from Sans’ panicking soul.

Daphne looked like she’d just come back from an all-nighter at work. She wore a puffy, oversized coat and beanie over a set of dirty, dark blue scrubs. She looked less ready for a hot date than Sans had before Papyrus got his hands on him. The tension left Sans’ shoulders.

Papyrus glanced between them eagerly, seeming to vibrate with glee.

“I’LL LEAVE YOU TO IT THEN!” the tall skeleton clapped his hands together before charging off into his room. Once he was gone, Sans glanced back down at the tiny woman. Relief giving way to bemusement.  He took a step closer to the human cocking his head questioningly. Daphne was the first to break the silence.

“Hey big guy.”

“Pipsqueak.” He returned with a slight nod.

“Don’t you look dapper?” The human grunted, looking him up and down. Sans snorted slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks kiddie. Normally I don’t wear fancy stuff but I was suede into it.” He winked.

“Ya screwed up there big guy.” She pointed lazily at his feet. “One of those shoes isn’t right.”

Sans’ eyes dropped briefly to his shoes. Then they widened in realization. They flashed up to the human’s face. She paid him a smug look.

Oh.

Oh damn…

Sans had wanted to like this one. He really had. Daphne was one of the few humans he’d met who spoke to him like he was a person, and not some wild animal you had to toe the line around or they’d leap at you. She hadn’t oozed fear and suppressed aggression the way her boss had. Nor had she bullshitted politeness like other humans did to keep on his good side.  In fact she’d almost made him feel embarrassed about the way he postured to the doctor. –Almost.

But what was she doing here?  Her creepy little friend hadn’t been around for over two weeks.  Why would she show up on his doorstep now of all times? It made no sense. The human seemed tired, bored really, as she smirked up at him.

“Really pipsqueak? A joke about shoes? I really don’t know what you’re on aboot.” Sans finally said with a chuckle. He regarded her, forcing a casual air. “So… why’d ya tell my bro that I was buyin ya lunch?”

“Because you are.” Daphne grunted. Sans couldn’t help but chuckle at this. He stooped lower so that they were more eyelevel and cocked an amused brow.

“Oh?”

“Yep. I wouldn’t say no to a drink either. Might be a good idea.” Daphne grunted getting to her feet. Her dull blue eyes met his. “You an’ me got a lot to talk about. y’know?”

Oop. There it was. Suddenly the random visit made sense. Sans felt his soul sag tiredly. He should have known this was coming.  But truth be told he’d expected the doctor.

“Heh. Guess we do huh?” Sans straightened and grabbed his coat. He shrugged it on and headed for the door. “I know a place. C’mon”

“Hey. Big guy.”Sans paused, glancing behind him. The tiny human payed him a sardonic look. “Don’t you know how to treat a lady?” She raised her arm at the elbow and nudged his wrist. “Get your ass over here and take my arm.”

Sans mirrored her posture, arm out, bent at the elbow. The human’s tiny arms wrapped around it. She nodded.

“There ya go. Like a right, friggin gentleman.” Daphne grunted, patting his arm. “Lead the way.”

Sans eyed her, before shaking his head and heading out into the streets.

With the exception of his brother, and maybe Undyne—nobody ever had the cheek boss Sans around like that.  Least of all humans. 90% of the humans he met acted as though they thought he might snap them in two if they didn’t toe the friggin line. True he never discouraged this assumption— it made him particularly useful to have around as a bodyguard when human officials visited the embassy and the constant threats of violence from hate groups got particularly intense. They had fewer issues when he was around. People were way less likely to pull something if they knew he was nearby, grinning them down.

So why did this ballsey little pipsqueak seem to think she could lead him around by the nose? He could tell from her behavior that she wasn’t the aggressive type. Hell, when they’d first met he’d barely noticed her at all she was so calm and unthreatening.  Yet despite her relaxed demeanor, it seemed like every other word out of her mouth to him was some kind of challenge.  A test to see how much ribbing (heh) he would take, before retaliating.

And for whatever reason—Sans found he liked her better for it.

That was bad. The human hadn’t come all this way to make friends. Sans knew that better than anyone. He’d pulled this same song and dance with Frisk the first time they’d met his bro. Get them alone. Get them comfortable. All the while probing them for information. Feeling out their motives, and leaving them with a well-crafted ultimatum to walk that fuckin’ line if they know whats good for them. Sans was a pro at this kinda meeting.

The human was here because he’d threatened the kid. And while Sans didn’t know how much of the situation Charlotte had confided in her—he could recognize this exchange for what it was.  This was little more than an interrogation.  with some veiled threats thrown in there for good measure.

Sans steeled himself glancing down at the human. This wasn’t his first rodeo. And He wasn’t going to let himself get played.

It was still fairly early in the evening and monster were still milling about in the streets, going about their business. Several stopped to stare at the human, their eyes lingering on the place where her arms linked around his. A few of them caught Sans’ eyes and smiled. Daphne herself, didn’t appear to be bothered by the stares, she just kept walking, eyes forwards as if the attention was normal. However Sans noticed that her grip on his arm didn’t relax the entire walk and a few times when they passed other monsters on the street too close, he could feel her tiny fingernails digging into his radius.

“I like your bro.” Daphne said out of the blue. “He seems like a really nice guy.”

Sans blinked. Despite the flat voice she sounded sincere. He shook his head slowly, letting out a small chuckle. Two minutes in and she’d already zeroed in on his favorite subject. Not bad.

“Heh. Yeah. My bros pretty great huh?”

“mm. When I told him you owed me dinner he all happy. Gave me this whole speech about how ‘Lazybones is so great’ despite the fact that he ‘leaves his socks everywhere and have no sense of fashion’.” Daphne smirked. “Lazybones—ha. That’s cute. He seems to thinks pretty big of you.”

Sans shrugged, grinning in spite of himself.

“Eh. Its not that weird. Didn’t you have nicknames for your brothers?”

“Yeah. ‘moron’.” Daphne retorted. She squinted at the monster closing one eye. “You must be the older brother.”

“Yep. Paps is the babybones. I’m pretty sure I’m at least an hour older though.” Sans shrugged. Daphne cocked a brow.

“Hold up. you two are twins?”

“Uh, yeah?” Sans mirrored her bemused look.  “What’s wrong with that?” The human shrugged.

“Nothin. Its just surprising. You two look nothin alike.”

“Whats looks got to do with it?” Sans asked. Daphne squinted, closing one eye.

“Skeletons… Right. I’m guessing being twins means somethin’ different to monsters, am I right?” Daphne mused. Sans scratched his chin.

“Depends. What does it mean for humans to be twins?” he returned.

“Hell, I dunno. Its like… they start out as one egg and then split off into two people in the womb. Something like that.” Daphne said.

“Thas pretty close. Cept monster twins start out as one soul.” Sans shrugged. Daphne pulled a face.

“whats that face for? Its not that weird.” Sans chuckled.

“You’re making that up.” Daphne retorted. Sans grin grew wider.

   “Heh. You do realize monsters don’t exactly have” he gestured vaugly. “DNA and organs and such right? We’re literally made of magic.” The human looked doubtful and Sans found himself laughing. It was like giving the sex talk to a grown woman. In fact that was exactly what it was.

“Alright. Lets see if I can make this a little simpler for ya.” Sans rumbled. “A baby monsters’ soul is made of combined pieces of its parents souls—yeah? That and magic, love, hope and all that good stuff. Monster twins happen when one soul breaks off into two in the womb and then develop into two separate monsters with their own unique personalities and characteristics. Just like normal siblings. Do ya follow?” The human hadn’t stop squinting, but she seemed to more accepting of this explanation than before. She smirked faintly and hummed.

“Hope love and soul magic huh? Wow.” Daphne deadpanned. “My parents had sex.”

Several monsters called out Sans’ name when he stepped into New Grillby’s. A few stared at the human, but seemed relieved when they noticed her arms around his. Chloe—a honey gold, perpetually tipsy bunny— caught the skeleton’s eye as they passed her table. The drunk bunny’s gaze flickered between Sans and the human, before she grinned. She wiggling her eyebrows and winked suggestively at him when Daphne’s back was turned. Sans felt his face heat up and he looked away.

“Hey Grillbz. We’ll have a couple of th’ burg.” Sans said settling down on his regular barstool.

“And two beers.” Daphne’s voice threw in, sounding faintly strained. Grillby glanced around in confusion before leaning down to peer, over the edge of the bar. Sans was short for a monster—he knew that. But he hadn’t realized how laughably disproportionate the barstools were until he saw Daphne trying to climb up onto the one next to his. Grillby’s brows drew together. Sans let out a soft chuckle reaching down. he picked the human up by the back of her coat and set her on the stool.

“This is pipsquea—uh, ‘Daphne’ Grillbz. She a…friend of a friend.” He patted her back with a chuckle.  “Isn’t that right pipsqueak?”

“You stretched my coat out, dingus.” Daphne grunted with no real venom. She turned and gave the flaming bartender a lazy wave. “Hey Hottie. Nice place ya got here.”

Grillby stiffened, the flames of his cheeks turning slightly green. He gave a polite nod and cleared his throat—a sound like crackling flames.

“I’ll…get those drinks right out for you...” He crackled softly before hurrying off towards the kitchen. Daphne barely glanced up at this, her half-massed eyes focused on the alcohol menu. Sans watched her from the corners of his eyes.

How was this tiny human so chill about everything? She was sitting in the middle of an all monster bar with a near-stranger as if it was the dullest most unspectacular thing in the world. It didn’t feel like an act either. Not the forced calm and frozen smiles other humans threw on when they were uncomfortable. It was like sitting with another monster, like having lunch with a friend.  Sans stiffened, realizing that he was letting his guard down. She wasn’t a friend and this wasn’t some chummy get together either. This was abnormal.

“Hey. Big guy.” Daphne grunted. “Think it’s too early for Tequilas?” That drew an incredulous snort from the skeleton.

“Are you even old enough to drink pipsqueak?” he rumbled. Daphne cocked a brow, glancing up at him.

“I’m 24.” She deadpanned. Sans squinted looking her over. She was so puny. He pegged her for a teenager at most.

“You’re not patella ‘in me a fibula, are ya pipsqueak?”

“I’m 5’2. That’s like—on the shorter end of average.” Daphne shrugged. “s’not my fault you’re a friggin giant.”

“Well fee, fi, foe fum pal” Sans chuckled. Daphne smirked actually lifting her eyes from the menu to regard him.

“Ha. Didn’t think you actually caught that one.”

“I looked it up.” Sans replied. The human snorted at that, eyes returning to the menu. Another beat of silence followed. Sans shook himself. He was letting his guard down again. What was wrong with him?

“Always thought that story was screwed up. Dude breaks into the giant’s house, steals his magic harp and goose and shit—then ends up murdering the guy. An’ for some reason he’s the hero. In a book for kids even. ” Daphne let out a humorless snort. “No wonder the world’s gone to hell…”  Sans chuckled. He leaned on his elbow to regard her.

“Pretty sure there was some grindy, ‘bone-bread’ shit exchanged somewhere in there pal.”

“Didn’t say he was innocent,” Daphne shrugged, turning over the menu. “But he sure’s hell didn’t throw the first punch.”

“mmm..”

Grillby returned setting a couple plates in front of them. Daphne glanced up, setting the menu aside.

“Smells great Hottie.” She grunted. “Can ya wait a bit, then send up a couple of tequilas?”

Grillby nodded, and absently began scrubbing the glass in his hand with a rag. Daphne squinted.

“Hey… buddy—“

FHOOOOM!

Flames shot up out of the glass Grillby was cleaning, he fumbled to put it out nearly spilling it over. Daphne bit her lip.

“I was just gonna say… That’s my drink.” She nodded to the flaming cup. Grillby’s cheeks burned bright teal. He set the glass down in front of her and stumbled into the kitchen. Sans grunted, elbowing her in the side.

“That’s mean pipsqueak. Grillbz is shy enough as it is.” 

Daphne shook her head brows knitted up in confusion.

“Didn’t think he’d get s’ flustered by it. Or well….at all really.” She admitted. Sans grunted, realizing what she was getting at. Humans hadn’t had any real ‘diversity’ in over a thousand years. Monsters had all their species packed together in a tiny cave for that long. Plenty of time for social biases to dissipate. Sans let out a tired sigh.

“Should I… Like say something to him…?” The human actually sounded unsure. Sans drew in his chin. It was an odd color on her.  He watched as she craned her neck towards the kitchen, frowning thoughtfully.

“Just eat your burger pipsqueak.” Sans rumbled. “He gets that song and dance bout every time Chloe hits her forth shot. He should be used to it by now…”

They ate in silence for a little while. More than once Sans noticed the human watching him while he ate. That wasn’t too weird. Humans could never seem to wrap their head around the idea of magic. And when he threw it out as an explanation for how he ate, talked, moved or whatever—they were always dissatisfied. Her eyes met his and she set her burger down and took a drink. So Sans leaned back and prepared himself for the usual questions.

“So Chara went on a little play date with your bro last week.” She began. Sans’ grin froze, and he suddenly remembered the cause of their meeting. “Came back to work in tears. Wouldn’t tell anybody why or what happened either. Since then she hasn’t been the same. All quiet and jumpy.” Daphne took big unlady-like bite from her burger, smacking her lips. “Got somethin’ you wanna confess?”

Sans lowered his bottle of ketchup with a sigh. Pleasantries were over now.

It was time for the interrogation to begin.

______________________________________________________________________________

TUMBLR for this story: http://sftdt.tumblr.com/

 Welp. For whatever reason, I really like writing Sans and Daphne together. More of that in the second part. 

EDIT: 

 here's my crap art. I don't know why I find their interactions so entertaining. 

Prolly because ones always like: (￢＿￢)  

and the other is always like: ( ^ ‿ ^ ) 

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE 4: The Interrogation (pt 2)

Sans wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He didn’t really owe the human an explanation. Hell, he didn’t owe her anything really. He should just relax. It wouldn’t be that hard to get rid of her. He could just make something up if she got too close to the truth.

And yet…

Why was he so frigging nervous? It must have been her weirdness. Yeah- that’s what it was. She didn’t act like a normal human. That threw him a little. But he could get over it. Right?

Something about the human’s calm blunt persona made him uneasy about lying to her. She was analyzing him—he could tell. And she seemed like the kind of person who could recognize a lie when they heard one. Even if it was a particularly good one.  Sans let out a breath.

Okay.

The plan was simple. Give her the barebones (heh) explaination. Try to be as truthful as possible without revealing anything too incriminating. Find out what she knows—then use that as a guide for how much to tell her. Give her just enough to sate her curiosity and put her suspicions to rest. 

“The kid and I had a disagreement.” Sans finally said. “I told her not to come around anymore.”

"Mm. Is that right?" Daphne grunted. Her eyes drifted to his chest. The human seemed to be waiting for more so Sans went on choosing his words carefully.

"She’s been getting into some stuff she probably shouldn’t. gonna get herself into trouble if she keeps poking her nose in places it don't belong." Sans shrugged. The human’s eyes drifted up from his chest and settled on his face. She cocked a lazy brow.

"I get ya. So, did this ultimatum of yours extend to all monsters?" Daphne wondered "or just your brother?"

Sans’ soul flip flopped in his chest. He played it off, keeping his smile aloof and unreadable.

Well crap…

Time to switch tactics.

….again…

Sans sighed, running a hand over his skull.

"Listen bub…Bad stuff has been going down around here lately. Just look at th’ 9 o’clock news.  People are going missing. Some of em are even getting killed. The kid don’t need to get mixed up in all that. Its better if she keeps out of it. It's for her own good"

Daphne blinked slowly. She took a drink.


"Ah. So are you’re just worried about her safety huh? Just trying to be a good citizen? How nice..." Her flat, sardonic voice made Sans falter.

This… wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

The human’s eyes drifted back down to his chest and her scowl deepened. A stab of alarm. Of realization. The human’s eye line. She was staring directly at the center of his chest. Exactly where his soul was settled.

“Oh. Perfect. Thank you.” Daphne smiled, turning her attention away from the skeleton. Grillby had come over to set a pair of drinks in front of them. The human’s eyes widened at the size of the fizzing glass before her. Grillby glanced between her and the drink before sucking in his cheeks. He clearly hadn’t taken in to account how little she weighed compared to his usual customer.

“I can…I can find you a smaller glass...” he crackled, reaching for the cup.

“No no. This is okay. Better than okay…wow…” Daphne swatted away his hand in an absent shooing gesture. Her eyes never left the cup, a determined smirk forming on her face.  She didn’t even seem to notice or care that she’d brushed hands with the flaming man. Most humans Grillby had met were convinced he’d burn them if they so much as shook his hand. The bartender flushed, drawing the hand away to scratch his cheek.

The flaming monster watched her take a sip, looking as though he wanted to say something. He seemed to think better of it, and shuffled off to the kitchen presumably to clean some glasses—and hide. Once Grillby went away again the human turned her attention back to the skeleton. His grin had waned.

“Where were we?” Daphne grunted.

“Pretty sure you were grilling me for information.” Sans grunted. He cracked his knuckles. “You ask a lot of questions pipsqueak. How's about answering a few?” Daphne raised a brow.

“Oh? You wanna ask me somethin?”

The skeleton shrugged.

“can’t expect to get something for nothin now can you? s’only fair.”

The human regarded him, she ran a finger over the brim of her glass, trying to make it hum. Sans waited. He was regaining control of this interrogation one way or another.

“Alrighty then. Hows about we make it a game?” Daphne said. She pushed Sans’ drink closer to him. He eyed her dubiously.

“Game?”

“A drinking game.” Daphne nodded. “Its easy. I ask you a question. If the answer is yes, you take a sip of your drink. If it’s no, you shake your head. Once you answer, its your turn to ask a question. Get it?”

 “And what if one of us lies? Hmm?”

ooop. There. Right there.

Sans had been right before. The moment he mentioned deceit, human’s gaze drifted to his chest. Then her eyes met his and she squinted, nose wrinkling.

“I guess we’ll just have to trust each other. Wont we?” Daphne mused. The skeleton drew back slightly. Just who the hell was this kid? A soft hum. She’d managed to get her glass to sing just right. “Well? Do you wanna play?”

 
Sans folded his arms, then nodded.

 "Did you come to see me because you were worried about Charlotte?" Sans asked.

The human took a sip of her drink. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

"My turn. Should I be worried about her?"

Sans thinned his eyes. He took a drink.

"Have you known any monsters personally before you met me and my bro?" Sans pressed. To this the human shrugged, taking another drink.

Sans’ soul unclenched. Good. One mystery out of the way. He relaxed a little. Maybe her behavior wasn’t as bizarre as he was making it out to be. The human swished the frothy surface of her drink with a finger. Before licking it off absently.

"Hmm…You’re worried about Charlotte. But there’s more to it than that isn’t there? You think she’s going to seriously hurt someone. Don’t you?” she didn’t even bother phrasing this one like a question, her fingertips tapping on the side of her drink.

The skeleton regarded her. He took a drink. How had she gotten to that conclusion so quickly? Sans studied her face. Was it possible that he wasn’t the only one who had noticed something wrong with the kid? He gestured to the woman gingerly.

"Do you think she would? Hurt someone I mean"  Sans asked.

Daphne hesitated. She squinted at the drink thoughtfully. Before giving a tiny shake of the head.  Sans huffed. Warry. Hesitancy.  Never a good thing. The human tapped her fingers against the glass, seeming to think very hard about her next question. She let out a breath of air, before speaking.

"Have you ever tried to kill somebody?”


Sans’ head came up slowly.

She knew.

How?

How did she know? T

hat look on her face said it all. She’d known this whole time. She already knew what his answer would be. Sans clenched and unclenched his fingers. Then lifted his glass and took a drink.  

Sans watched the human, bracing himself for her reaction. For her horror. The human closed her eyes. Then without a word, she lifted her own glass and took a drink.

Sans’ eye sockets widened. The human paid him a rueful look, leaning back in her chair.

"Did you try to kill Charlotte?" she whispered.

Sans’ teeth grit together audibly. He cast a glance around the bar. No one payed them any mind. Everyone was busy laughing and drinking, fully engrossed in their own little worlds. Each one, blithely unaware of the tense mood that had fallen over the two of them.   Even Grillby was actively avoiding them now. Sans returned his attention to the human.

She already knows.

The skeleton took a drink.



"Did you know the answer to that question before I took a shot?" Sans asked shortly. Daphne took a drink. She smiled slightly, lowering her gaze. Her voice came out quiet and small. Somewhere between resignation and an embarrassed sigh.


"Are you going to kill me?"

Something in Sans ached. He turned his face away from her with a huff. And shook his head.  

"Are you going to tell people… about what I did?" he tried to keep his voice calm and steady, but there was an audible edge to it.

To Sans’ astonishment, the human shook her head, she bridged her fingers.

"Will you try and hurt her again?" Daphne asked. Somewhere in the bar a joke was told.  A chorus of monster laughter filled the air. The skeleton wished numbly that he knew what the punchline had been.


"You don’t understand.”  Sans whispered. The human leaned up and in, coming nose to nose with the monster.

"That is not an answer." She grunted, voice colder than he’d ever heard it.



"I don’t…I don’t  want to hurt her." Sans whispered. He dropped his eyes to the side.. “I’m doing…everything I can think of to not have to hurt her again.”

The human regarded him for a long moment. Her eyes flashing to his chest. Then she sagged, sinking back down into her seat. She looked exhausted. Weak. Even more so than usual.

Yeah. You an me both pipsqueak…

A silence passed between them.

"So. Do I know them? This person you tried to kill?" Sans asked. The human took a drink, not even bothering to look up.


"Would it matter if you knew them or not?" Daphne said flatly.

Sans shook his head.

"If…If you had it to do all over again, would you try to kill them again?" Sans asked.

The human wilted. She looked like a gentle breeze would knock her off her feet. She shook her head lamely.


"Are you worried I’m gonna do something now? Hurt somebody?" She wondered.

The skeleton cocked his head. Then shook it decidedly. No. Even now, the human didn’t strike him as aggressive. Now she just seemed sad and tired as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"There’s something else. You know more about this-this mess, than you’re letting on.” Sans said. At this point it wasn’t a question.

The human took a sip.  Her face had grown very red by now. The jukebox was playing in the corner of the room. Sans couldn’t tell if her swaying was to the music or if she was really starting to feel the buzz.  


"There’s more you know about this mess. But you keep it to yourself. You think nobody else will understand. You don’t want to burden anyone with It.” the human mumbled.

Sans took a sip. He leaned down closer to the humans face.

"Who are you really?" he growled. The human shook her head.

 “Sorry. That's not how this game works." Her eyes fluttered open turning towards her drink. It was a little less than half full. Sans had been so caught up with the interrogation he hadn’t noticed just how big of a dent into her drink she’d made. He ran the numbers idly in his head. Just how much tequila just disappeared into that tiny frame? The skeleton snorted. He was almost impressed. His was nearly empty.

The human swayed.

“Looks like this is the last round. Huh big guy?” she mumbled. The skeleton gave a sharp nod. She ran her finger over the brim of her glass. “Better make it a good one then.” She turned on him.

"Have you ever met a taking flower?"

Sans let the air hiss from between his teeth. Ah. another piece to the puzzle.

So. He was still alive then. That son of a bitch… A tired grin found its way onto Sans’ face.

 He drained his cup.

"Aaaand game…” she raised her fist and gave a lackluster whoop.


“Just how much did that weed tell you about us?” Sans grumbled.

The human smiled tiredly sliding off of the stool. She swayed, hand rubbing her temples.

"I think that’s your lot buddy. Lets…continue you this another time. Yeah?” The human fished out a receipt and jotted down her number and address. She held it out. "Same time tomorrow? My place?"

The skeleton eyed the paper dubiously.

"You sure that’s a good idea kiddo? Telling somebody like me where you live?" Sans mused darkly. The human shrugged.

“Too late now.” She picked up her glass, holding it with both hands, then threw back.  The skeleton stared. Was she really trying to chug it?

“You’re gonna kill yourself pipsqueak.” He growled. She let out a gasp coming up for air.

“Not gonna waste it.” she jerked her chin towards the kitchen. Then started chugging again. Sans rested his chin in his hand, leaning in closer to watch her.

“Want me to get you a funnel?” he deadpanned. She raised a finger to him. The second the cup was drained she let out gasping breath, and slammed the cup down on the counter. She turned on him, smirking triumphantly.

“Now take me home.”

Sans did. The walk to the border was quiet. Mostly because the human seemed to be having trouble walking period. She swayed stumbling along beside him. Every so often the monster felt her slight weight bump into him, eliciting tiny grunts. When she tripped over the curb and nearly wandered into oncoming traffic the skeleton had had enough.  

“Damnit, just—c’mere…”  the skeleton swooped down, scooped the human up bridal style and began carrying her. Her eyes widened, darting confusedly around—probably the first time he’d ever seen them open all the way.

“whoa….wha…?” She struggled feebly for a few seconds before seeming to realize what was happening. Then she slumped into his chest and let out groan. “Heh…heh…look at you being all gentlemanly.” She patted his chest. The skeleton grunted.

“You better not puke. This is literally my only nice shirt.” He growled softly. She mumbled something into his chest that he couldn’t quite understand. The skeleton watched her from the corners of his eyes. She’d seriously overdone it. He shouldn’t have let her drink so much.

True, they’d had the same amount. But while he barely felt buzzed, she was clearly so plastered that she couldn’t see straight. Sans considered her dubiously. Monster made foods had a high magic concentration. Alcohol included. So did the buzz simply hit humans a lot harder? He didn’t have enough experience with humans to even guess.

For obvious reasons questions like these had never come up in his dealings with the nine-year-old ambassador.

"Damn pipsqueak. What were you thinking?” he sighed.

“Is fine…I needed it…” she mumbled, patting his arm absently.

“You sure as hell aren’t going to need the monster hangover you’ll be feelin tomorrow morning.”

The human hmmed.

“I just…needed the extra courage.” She said quietly. Sans paused raising a brow at the tiny woman in his arms. She patted him again. “You…are the scariest friggin person I’ve ever met in my entire life. Did ya know that?” she mumbled into his chest.

Sans’ grin stiffened. Ah. So then she wasn’t carved out of a block of ice. He turned the idea over in his head. He guessed it was good to know.

“So… If I’m so scary, then why did you seek me out?” Sans asked. The human squinted. She raised a hand to her face and stared blankly at it, flexing and unflexing her fingers. She let out a sigh, lowering it again.

“I promised him…I would at least try…”

Sans kept on down the road. He thought about asking her who she’d made the promise to, but thought better of it. He already had a pretty good guess. They went on in silence for a little while. The human had nuzzled her face into the front of his shirt. He shut his eyes.

What was he going to do now? He’d have to see her again. There were too many unanswered questions. Too many things he still didn’t understand. This whole crazy encounter had left him fried. But in a weird way, he felt sort of hopeful, in spite of himself. She’d found out what he’d done, but didn’t seem like she was going to go to the police about it. Either she was insane, or she knew a hell of a lot more than he’d first assumed. Was it because she understood why he did what he did?

The human knew the flower. Did that mean she knew about the timelines? About Chara?

 The human was mumbling again—her voice unintelligible against his chest. The skeleton rolled his eyes. He took hold of the back of her hood and gently pulled her head away from him.

“Say again?” he grumbled.

"I said…I’m lucky I was right about you" she hmmed. “I’m glad.”  Sans scoffed.

“Glad? You’re glad that I tried to kill your friend?” He growled, bitterness finding its way into his voice. The human’s brows knit up in annoyance.

“No. Not that. That was stupid. And you—you’re stupid too. You’re lucky. My well of patience for bullshit is pretty deep” She grunted flatly. Her eyes peeled open to scowl up at him. “But trust me when I say you don’t wanna find out what happens if you hit bedrock with me.”

Sans paused. A chuckle rumbled in him, escaping his mouth.

“Careful pipsqueak. That sounds an awful lot like a threat.” He rumbled pleasantly.

“Yes. It does. Doesn’t it? I know this prolly goes without sayin…but if I ever find so much as a scratch on that girl I know who I’m coming after.” She sagged back down, eyes shutting. “I’ll…I’ll kick your ass…”

The skeleton’s soul flip flopped inside of him. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“that’s…that’s fair I guess.” He rumbled. “So then. What were you right about?”

She forced her eyes open again.

“That you’re not just out for blood. You actually care about what happens from here on out.” She mumbled. “Means you’re a hell of a lot better of a person than you pretend to be. That’s good. Makes my job…easier…”

Sans turned this over in his head. It felt familiar somehow. He let the conversation die.

Sans had wanted to like this human. He really had. She was one of the few who spoke to him like a person. And now it seemed reasonably possible that, she may be one of the few people who could actually begin to understand what he’d been going through. It was cathartic In a way. A chance to talk about everything he’d been bottling up. He eyed the tiny woman in his arms. She seemed to have dozed off, and was drooling unladylike all down the front of the only nice shirt that he owned. His grip on the human tightened ever so slightly.

He wanted to see her again.

Soon enough the skeleton reached the border. He grunted nudging the human.

“End of the line pipsqueak. Time to get off.” He rumbled. The woman mumbled something drunkenly but made no move to get down. The skeleton shifted. He gave her a little shake. “Hey. Seriously. I get that you’re bone tired but I can’t exactly carry you all the way home.” Sans snorted at the idea of someone on the human side of town seeing him carrying an unconscious woman around down dark streets. Yep. That wouldn’t be an apsolute disaster now would it?

When she didn’t respond, he huffed, getting a hold of her around the middle and standing her up on the pavement. She blinked around herself absently. Sans folded his arms.

“Go home. Now. Sleep it off.”  He made a shooing gesture with his hands.

The human blinked again. She tilted her head at him. The rest of her kept tilting…and tilting…

“Sonnuva-!” Sans scrambled over to catch her before she faceplanted onto the concrete. When he pulled her upright again she was already snoring. The skeleton let out a sigh. Reluctantly he pulled her back up into his arms. “You better not have roommates pipsqueak…” he groused, fishing the little paper with her address on it.

The human lived in a one bedroom condo on the far side of town. He took a shortcut, nearly dropping the human again when she leaned over the side of his arm and expelled the contents of her stomach onto the hardwood floors of her bedroom. Sans grimaced, patting her back guiltily as she coughed and gagged.

Humans were so friggin disgusting. It wasn’t even funny. Once she stopped retching he carried her over to the bed. Sans had to pry her fingers off his coat so he could lay her down. She curled instantly into her pillows, coat, hat shoes and all, and began sleeping the sleep of the dead. Sans ran a hand over his tired skull.

He’d just clean up a little, make sure she wasn’t dead, and then he’d go.  

Something small and hard conked sans in the back of the skull.

“HEY!” a sharp familiar voice. Sans’ eyes darkened.

“Back off trashbag! Don’t even think about getting handsy!” he turned to see a familiar yellow flower glowering at him from a pot on the bedside table. The flower looked dreadful. Weaker, more wilted than Sans had ever seen him. The flower sneered, lips curling, tiny black eyes darting nervously between the skeleton and the sleeping woman. He seemed almost worried.

“Just cause she’s drunk off her ass doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. So…so BACK OFF!”

Sans drew in his chin.

Oh.

Oh that’s hilarious.

 The skeleton shook his head with a chuckle.

“Pipsqueak wasn’t kidding about th’ wells of patience. Was she?” Sans snorted. The flower squinted.

“What was that asshole?!” he spat,  puffing himself up.

 “Heh. Nothing. Just let me clean this up and I’ll leaf you two alone.” The skeleton winked. He some paper towels from the kitchen and began trying to clean up the puddle of vomit. The flower scowled, watching his every move.

“There! You cleaned up her puke. Bravo. Now would you scram already?” Flowey sneered.

“damn-delion! What in carnation is your problem? I was on my way out. Honestly, I think you’re a lily-bit  tense bud.”

Another friendliness pellet smacked into the back of the skeleton’s skull, and the flower was already preparing to let another one fly. The skeleton shrugged.

“Iris my case.” He managed to get in another peal of chuckles before the pellets began flying with reckless abandon. He flashed away before the pellets could hit their mark. Half a second later he was standing on the street corner in front of Daphne’s condominium. He let out another chuckle, when he realized he could still hear the flower’s furious screeching from all the way outside. Moments later the light in Daphne’s bedroom window went off. The skeleton let out a sigh, turning to leave.

“Take care of yourself pipsqueak…” he rumbled. “Apparently somebody out there really cares about ya.”

Another flash.

Then he was gone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: Not afraid anymore

A dream. Is that what this is?

The scene came slowly into focus, like a photo negative held up to the light. Charlotte was sitting on something large and warm. Her back was straight, completely still. Calm. She could feel something alive breathing beneath her.

“Mr. Asgore?” Her voice came out tiny—like a little girl. The tone was flat and emotionless. It didn’t suit Charlotte. She felt the massive being beneath her move, a deep ‘hmm?’ rumbling from impossibly large lungs. Charlotte folded her arms. “You haven’t done girl hair before. Have you?” The huge presence chuckled.

“No, not too many I’m afraid.” A giant paw trailed around and held her own. The sight of it would have normally made Charlotte panic. But she didn’t. She felt…. “Is it that obvious?”

“You put too many bows in it.” Charlotte grumbled.

“I think you look charming.”

“I think I look like a Christmas present.”

 A booming laugh, arms bigger around than her waist, encompassed the child a massive hairy face nuzzled into her back. Charlotte folded her arms, huffing in a tolerant manner.

“Oh princess. I could never be that wonderful. I’d have to be as good as gold my whole life and then some to deserve a gift like you.”

The gigantic being kissed her hair. Charlotte stiffened, feeling her face heat up. She shoved his nose away roughly.

“You’re just too bad at hair Mr. Asgore.” She said shortly. “That’s all there is to it. you just suck.”  The paws scooped her up under her armpits  and turned her around. The king was grinning down at her, eyebrows wiggling. “hmph!” she scowled, causing the monster to let out another bone rattling laugh, that vibrated through her entire body. He was so huge. Bigger than Charlotte remembered. She’d thought he hadn’t been much taller than about ten feet. But now—the top of Charlotte’s head barely came up to his knee. Had he grown? Charlotte should have felt terrified. But she felt, bashful instead. The king folded his own arms, mirroring Charlotte’s defiant pose.

“Hmmm… well now, maybe I just need a good hair teacher.” He mused cocking a brow at her. “Do you know any?”

The scene melted into another. Charlotte was standing—yes standing!—on the king’s knee so she could reach his beard. She had her fingers tangled up in it, sectioning off the hair into three clumps. 

“Don’t move your head.” She ordered.

“I wont”

“And don’t wiggle your legs so much. I’m gonna fall off” She pressed. Another chuckle.

“of course."

“Okay… start with three clumps.  its over and under, over and under okay?” Charlotte instructed. Her fingers deftly began braiding the beard. “Just keep replacing the middle part with a piece from either side. When you finish a braid, grab some more hair from the sides into clumps.”  A deep ‘hmmm’

“What makes it a French braid?” he asked. Charlotte conked his nose with the blunt of her hairbrush. She scowled, closing one eye.

“What did I say about moving your head Mr. Asgore?”

“Forgive me.”

She paid the king a stern look but went on with her lesson.

“when you reach the end you tie it off with a hair tie. And put a bow. ONE bow.” She held up a single finger to emphasize this point. The King grinned, reaching for a hand mirror and holding it out to get a look at himself. She’d turned his entire beard into a long thick French braid. A little pink bow was fastened to the end. His grin widened.

“Would you look at that!” He mused turning the mirror every which way. “What a wonderful job you did! Thank you for teaching me little one” Charlotte shifted, looking down at her sock covered feet. The king laughed pulling her into a bearhug. She didn’t return it. But her tiny hands timidly fingered the monster’s beard. He drew her back to beam. “Maybe I should have you do this every morning. Could be a good look for me?” he winked teasingly. Little Charlotte didn’t seem to understand the joke because her nose wrinkled up. she shook her head reprovingly.

“I don’t think so Mr. Asgore…”

A dream—that’s all it was. And it faded with the morning. With the cold cynical honest light of day.

Charlotte awoke. Face pale. Eyes wet.

Aching with some distant hunger. The echo of pain that was never hers to begin with. A sense of complete adoring, obsessive longing.

And then anguish—the disillusionment.

Shock

Disbelief.

 Betrayal.

Sorrow.

Revenge.

#########################################################################33333

North Ebbot police believe a body found in a southern district recycling bin may be that of a missing Ebbot woman. Examiner has not yet confirmed the woman’s identity but believe it to be that of 29-year-old Eliza Hart who was reported missing by her family last Saturday.

Shortly before her disappearance Hart posted on social media of her intentions to crash a southern district rave held at a monster-operated hotel known as MTT Resort. When she did not return home the following morning, and had failed to answer her phone, Hart’s younger sister—a central Ebbot Nurse—called the police.  Later that afternoon, Miss. Hart’s 2015 Toyota Highlander was discovered booted for double parking outside of MTT Resort. Its owner however, was nowhere to be found.

Detectives determined the missing woman was likely the person whose remains were found in the recycling container according to Ebbot police commissioner Donald Reed.

The body’s discovery was called in, at 6:47 am by local garbage collector—Doug Suite, while making his rounds. Suite discovered the naked, heavily mutilated corpse buried in a Recycling bin beneath a considerable stack of ‘no trespassing’ signs.

Detectives are in the process of questioning Hotel management to obtain a census of possible suspects staying at the resort—however information has not been forthcoming. Commission Reed had this to say—

Ha. No trespassing signs...

It’s not funny.

I know. Yeesh.

Charlotte closed the newspaper, folding it across her lap. She took out her notebook and began to write.

So…how many does that make?

Charlotte flipped through the pages, counting the entries off with her fingers.

That makes….10—no, 11 in the last four weeks.

Red scoffed.

That’s almost twice as much as last month.

Charlotte nodded, frowning at the numbers. She folded her legs leaning back against the bus top bench.

It doesn’t make any sense.

What doesn’t?

Undyne told me that monsters we being killed too—apparently a lot.  But I haven’t been able to find a single news report on monster homicides. Not one. She nibbled her lip.  I don’t think she would lie about something like that—so if monsters are dying why we do never hear about it?

Red scoffed again.

Isn’t it obvious? When humans die they leave a nice bloody corpse behind for the cops to find. When a monster dies they turn to a pile of dust. They just get scraped off the blacktop by the morning street sweepers.

Charlotte winced at the mental image. She wasn’t even entirely sure what monster dust was supposed to look like—most humans didn’t. The thought made her sick. If people came across a dead monster in the streets there would be no calls of 911.There would be no police tape, no forensics there to take pictures—to perform autopsies. No, police reports. No investigation. Humans would just go about their business, oblivious to the chalky bits of person sticking to their shoes.

But even so… they must at least report missing monsters to the police right? You’d think they’d at least publish some of it.

Red hummed. Her attention seeming to focus in on the newspaper across Charlotte’s lap.

So. Another homicide connected to a human who decided to poke around on the monster side of town, huh?  That’s—what? The eleventh this month? And an obvious warning to others like her to stay away. Now who does that sound like to you?

Charlotte stiffened, fingers gripping the hem of her shirt.

If you mean Sans then—

Of course, I mean Sans Greenie. You’ve got to admit the similarities are there.

I know. I just don’t think—

What? You still think that all monsters are harmless?

Charlotte’s heart started hammering painfully against her ribs. The unbidden memory of a cold grip on her soul came to mind. Of being bashed and flung into walls—of deep booming laughter punctuating ever blow. Charlotte’s breathing quickened. Why? Why? Couldn’t she get enough air?

A stillness stroked her soul. After a few seconds of gasping Charlotte let out a long ragged breath.

N-no…  Charlotte drew in on herself—clinging to the calming presence’s embrace.

No…I don’t…

Good…

Red could fabricate calmness. Could steady the human’s breathing. Could replicate courage, confidence, and a number of other feelings Charlotte couldn’t conjure up herself. Red drew closer, buzzing. A tendril of cognition reached inside of her.

Little by little.  

More by more.

Deep by deep…

Red could give her relief. Give her release.

Courage.

Calm.

Confidence.

Power.

Determination.

But never peace.

Charlotte threw up a wall, pinching off Red’s access to her emotions. Her only venue to grab control. The presence recoiled. Limbs drawing away with a mental hiss. A scowl.

Are you finished being a victim yet Greenie?

I’m not a victim.

Ha. Well you sure do spend a lot of time feeling bad for yourself. Don’t you?

I…I promised him I wouldn’t let you out anymore…

Red let out a cold laugh. She sneered.

You promised…ha. That monster tried to kill us Greenie. He said it himself. And yet you still trust a single thing he says?

You didn’t feel what I did. He was scared. Terrified of what would happen if I let you out again.

Red was fuming quietly now. Charlotte could feel disapproval rolling off of the presence in waves.

So you think we should forgive him? Ha. That trashbag isn’t worthy of forgiveness. Not after what he did…

I know… I just. What if he’s right about me? What if there something… wrong inside me?

The human drew her arms around herself, staring at a crack in the concrete.

I always thought I was a nice person….

There’s such a thing as too nice you know.

Maybe I’m insane.

You’re not. We’ve been over this before.

No that’s not—I mean what if I’m sick? That whole fight… I wanted to-to…

Its okay to want to hurt the people who hurt you Greenie. Its called not being a friggin doormat.

Charlotte didn’t speak for a long moment, eyes wide and haunted.

If I…if I had let you fight with him… You would have killed him. Wouldn’t you?

Red grew cold and hard in her chest. The weight of her on Charlotte’s soul almost hurt. The voice came out harsh.

Barely.

 Controlled.

Rage.

Greenie. Who protects you when you’re in danger? Who sits there and hold your friggin hand when you decide to fall to pieces and freeze up? Who reminds you to take pepper spray with you when you go out alone at night? Who tries to talk you out of all the self—destructive bullshit you decide to throw yourself into? Who keeps you sane?

The weight on her soul grew heavier. Colder. more volatile.

I AM, the one who keeps us alive  Greenie. I AM,  the reason we didn’t kick the bucket a long time ago. I AM the one who gives a damn about what happens to you. NOT that homicidal trashbag and his bullshit sense of morality.

That comedian tried to kill you. He beat the ever-living shit out of you. He threw you around and broke you like you were nothing. He LAUGHED while you begged and pleaded for your life.

And you THINK that you need to protect HIM from ME?

Charlotte covered her face with her hands. He breathing growing erratic again. A buzzing in her ears muffling every sound.

I-I’m sorry…I’m sorry!

Cold.

Scoffing.

Smugness.

Yeah. Yeah I bet you’re sorry.

Charlotte gasped, and shook a moment longer, forcing her breathing to slow. Her voice croaked out. Weak. Scratchy.

“He let me go.”

Red hardened.

Just…Just cause he didn’t have to balls to finish what he started… does NOT mean he’s a good person.

I’m scared…I don’t want to hurt anyone. N-not ever…

You’re not a baby anymore. You can’t live in your little idealistic fairy-land where everyone is a frigging saint. Not if you want to stay alive…

I know…

Its time to stop being the victim, Greenie. Its time to stop being afraid all the time.  

Charlotte closed her eyes, fists tightening with resolve.

I am not afraid…

Charlotte felt numb. At some point—who can be certain when?— the bus arrived. Charlotte got on it. She sat in the back, eyes fixed out the window. Soon they were nearing the final stop. The last one before they hit the border.

 The human slipped a hand into her book-bag, feeling for the hard cool leather against her fingertips. Checking once more that she still had it with her. She did.

It was the book. The book she’d stolen from King Asgore’s library. The evidence of what the monster king had done to those children. She’d kept it with her all this time. Taken it everywhere she went. She tried burning it twice, but could never bring herself to drop it into the flames. So it just sat, like a tumor growing in the back of her brain. A deadly secret. A choice she never wanted to make.

For perhaps the hundredth time since Charlotte had taken the journal, Red urged her to action.  Her petitions would come. And along with them—her feelings. So cold. So ferociously unfeeling.

It scared her.

Yet she didn’t want it to stop…

Just give it to the police. You don’t even have to let anyone know it was you who gave it to them. You can call in an anonymous tip and leave it somewhere specific for them to find. Nobody has to find out what you did. Red whispered. You know that’s what you should have done from the beginning. It’s what that monster deserves.

The bus came to a stop. Charlotte stepped off into the street. A block to the north sat the temporary police station. The station had been set up shortly after the monsters had taken up residence to the south. People felt safer—more protected with law enforcers so close to the border. Close enough to run to if something went…

Wrong.

Don’t feel guilty…

Charlotte stared at the building numbly, hand still gripping the book inside of her bag.

It’s the right thing to do…

Charlotte sniffled. She turned shakily to peer off towards the south. She could see the steeple of the Embassy poking out of the skyline, just a few blocks away. She hesitated.

M-maybe…I-I…could…

It hit her like a tidal wave. Like a wave that could drown the whole world.

Red’s emotions. Red’s pain.

You’re always going on about making the world a better place.

And we both know it’d be better without people like him.

Without monsters like Asgore Dreemmur.

Betrayal.

Agony.

Then emptiness.

It was strange. That feeling of caring for nothing. It was almost liberating. Nothing could hurt you. Nothing could reach you.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Charlotte could feel it, pulsing from Red. If she let it in… if she let that emptiness take her…

she would be free.

 She could just let go.

Let herself drift away.

And let Red inherit the power.

The control.

Red knew best after all.

Charlotte wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.

She wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

It hurt to care like Charlotte did.

It hurt to try so hard.

It hurt to roll your soul out like a welcome mat—then watch those you love trod it into the dirt.

It hurt to let yourself love. To let yourself love anything.

Or anyone.

 To trust even when you knew better.

Only to be disappointed.

It ached.

To see the things you gave your life for

Broken.

Stolen.

 Lost.

Forgotten.

It hurt to be broken again and again until you’ve learned your lesson. Until you’ve realized the truth.

They are nothing.

I am nothing.

They are sick.

They are cruel.

They are wrong.

I am sick.

I am cruel.

I should be erased…

Then, inspite of everything you’ve heard and seen. Despite what you know.

You let them in again.

You let yourself care about something.

To love…anything.  

To tell yourself you’ve found the city of gold.

That you’ve found a god.

An exception to every rule you’ve taught yourself.

A reason to try one last time.

An idol.

'oh princess. I could never be that wonderful…'

Only to discover that it was vanity.

There are no gods.

There are no exception.

Everyone is sick.

Everyone is cruel.

Everyone is…

nothing.

And I am sick.

I am cruel.

And this world should be

Erased.

That calm was an escape.

A promise that, whatever happens, everything will be okay. The sun could fall from the sky—and that would be just fine.

No more guilt.

No fear.

No remorse.

And no more dreams…

Just strength.

Just courage.

Confidence.

Power.

Determination.

But not peace.

No…

never peace…

Charlotte was drowning. Losing herself in that bitterness.

A bitterness that was never hers.

The pain of one who had cried too many tears—had used up their reserve before they could even spell their name.

Charlotte did not understand. She could never ever understand.

Red’s words came to her again. Deep. All encompassing. The voice of ruin.

 Of death.

Destroy him for me Greenie.  

I’m begging you…

Give him what he deserves...

########################################################################3

Meep! Meep!

:P

Chapter Text

Hey kiddies! So I’ve got an ask thingy up on the tumblr page now. I’m planning to do some more illustrations for this and would love your input. ;)

Sftd.tumblr.com

Chapter 22: Enfant Terrible

Charlotte felt it coming on.

The stale buzz. The vibrations. A feeling of pins and needles all over her body.

She was floating. Suspended in darkness. Lost In that hazy state between consciousness and dreams. She saw nothing. She heard nothing. Felt nothing. Nothing but the touch of Red’s thoughts on her soul. Veins of consciousness, wriggling through the chinks in her armor. Taking root deep inside. The buzzing—the weight on her chest—only then did charlotte realize.

She couldn’t move.

It didn’t hurt. Not really. It felt sort of like going under anesthesia before a surgery. Its scary at first—relinquishing control. Giving your will completely over to another. But then the calm sets in. The relief that someone smarter than you—better than you—would take it from here. They would fix you—heal you. Make you better than you were before. You didn’t have to worry anymore. You could just…

Sleep.

Yet it was wrong. Charlotte’s dying consciousness realized this too late. She was drifting to the edge of the void. She was falling. Fading. Drifting down into a sleep from which she realized she would never ever return. But now. Now…

Charlotte hadn’t the willpower to resist. She was too far gone. The darkness was already taking her.

Red had done this. Hadn’t she? A sort of merciful betrayal.

The presence was killing her softly. Slowly.

Slitting her throat.

 Then kissing her goodnight.

‘Miss Fox…’

A voice. Far far away. Masculine. Deep. Unfamiliar.

‘Miss Fox…’

Hello…?

Concern. Worry. Compassion.

Compassion…?

Nothingness parted, like a single match being lit in the distance. Its tiny light searing a thread of feeling through the darkness. Something was stretching. Reaching for her in the black.

‘Charlotte, can you hear me?’

Yes..

‘Stay with me Miss Fox. Stay with me…’

Through the numbness, Charlotte felt a hand grip her shoulder. A shock. A tug inside of her. Like an elastic band being stretched and stretched until it snaps back to its previous dimensions.

The snap came. And with it—a roar.

Rage. Cold, crazed ferocious rage. Then the recoil. Red thrashed and raved against her, veins of thought stretching, spreading thinner and thinner. Before beginning to break. 

Charlotte felt again. Her arms were thrashing. Fingers clawing and unclawing, her spine writhed, curling in and snapping back as far as it would go In rapid succession. Pain. Oh, it fell over her like an avalanche.  She was seizing. Dashing her own head and body against the unyeileding ground. Terror, gasping. Blindness.

‘shhh….breathe…just breathe…in and out, in and out. You’re doing great…’

A hand on her chest, guiding her. Trying to slow her painful heaving. Someone was stroking her arm, hand running from shoulder to elbow, lifting, and repeating. Another touch of worry. Of compassion. Charlotte clung to it. Desperate.

In.

Out.

In.

Out…

Breathe.

Everything slowed. Everything calmed. She wasn’t thrashing anymore.

Breathe.

In.

Out

In.

Good girl.

The sun. Warm. It pierced her eyes. She blinked. The golden glow of daylight. Green all around her. The smell of freshly cut grass. Softness beneath her cheek. She was lying on her side.

Light found her.

 Darkness fled.

Slowly—very slowly—Charlotte lifted her eyes. A man. A man in a posh three piece suit, knelt over her. Jacket off. Collar unbuttoned. A well-tailored vest. A lilac colored tied.

Who…?

Charlotte blinked, squinting through the garish light at the man’s face. Her tired brain registered every feature like a flash of a camera.

Dark gelled hair.

Olive complexion.

Middle aged.

Handsome.

Familiar.

Expression—grave.

Charlotte’s throat was dry. She coughed.

“What happened…” she whispered, hoarsely. The man’s mask of concern melted. Smile lines formed around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Relief.

“You had a seizure Miss Fox. What can you remember?” he said.

Seizure?

Charlotte sat up slowly, taking the man in. He was pretty. The fake kind of pretty. dark lashes, rosy cheeks. Like some Hollywood actor. His complexion was clear. Charlotte blinked. Was he wearing makeup?

It was him. That voice. The one that had woken her. Had brought her back before she…before she…

“Who are you? How do you know my name.” She wheezed. The man flushed.

“Ah. Yes. It was on your driver’s license.”  He cleared his throat. Charlotte’s bag sat open by his knee. He scratched the back of his head.

Embarrassment. Sheepishness.

“You just started seizing there in the street Miss. You weren’t wearing a medical bracelet. I didn’t know if this…sort of thing was normal for you. I was looking for a medical card.”

Charlotte blinked.

The man grinned awkwardly raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I promise I didn’t take anything. I simply wanted to know if I should call for an ambulance or not.  You can double check your things. It’s all there.” He muttered.

He’s trying not to seem creepy. Charlotte’s brain registered dully. She regarded the stranger, reaching hesitantly for his emotions.

A parental flavor of concern. Sort of like how Dave felt after he learned that Daphne had wrestled a crazed Doberman to the ground. The buzz of shock hadn’t worn away yet. But the genuine kindness came through loud and clear.

“Its okay. I trust you—thanks.” Charlotte smiled weakly. The stranger relaxed somewhat, returning her smile with a frazzled one of his own. Charlotte ran a hand over her wild hair. There was a tender knob on the back of her skull and a slight ringing in her ears—likely from hitting the ground.

She dropped her gaze dizzily, trying to quell the pounding in her ears. There was something black folded up in the grass were she’d been lying. Charlotte picked it up and absently unfolded it.

It was the man’s suit jacket now slightly wet and muddy. It was the kind with black pinstripes and fancy hand stitching. The expensive kind.

“Oh!” Charlotte gasped. Her eyes landed on the man. He was still kneeling there. The knees of his nice pants were splotched with mud and grass stains. She rose shakily to her feet.  “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I can pay for the dry cleaning! Bollocks—I’m so sorry!”

Bemusement. The man squinted at her from behind a pair of round spectacles. His gaze landed on the jacket in her fists and he realized what she was talking about.

“oh… That’s alright Miss Fox. Don’t worry about it.” He let out a soft chuckle and took the jacket back, brushing the front off with a hand. “Never liked Armani anyway. Boss is always making me wear these monkey suits. Just a little dirt. He’ll get over it.”

Charlotte felt the blood run from her face. Armani. She'd spent a few summers during high school working retail in an upscale clothing store. So she knew exactly how many zeros populated price tags with the name Armani.

“Anyway, I had to move you away from the road. Didn’t really want you rolling into traffic. With a little prodding I got you to walk here with me.—sorry, It was the closest soft place I knew to bring you.” The man said.

Charlotte blinked, taking in her surroundings. They were at the Embassy. Or rather—the grassy hill just west of the building. Her head swam.

“This is the monster Embassy.” She stated flatly. The man’s smile tightened.

“Right… erm. I had intended to bring you inside so that the on-call medic could have a look at you. But…” he shrugged, sheepishly. “Erm. I figured that waking up to a weird old guy would be jarring enough without—well you know. I didn’t want to frighten you more than you already were.”

Charlotte stared. Something wasn’t clicking. She’d had a seizure. A stranger had found her and brought her to the monster embassy because it was safer than letting her stay in the street. A human man thought this place would be safer?

“Why did you bring me here?” she found herself asking. The man looked a little embarrassed.

“I’m…I really am sorry miss. I should have called an ambulance. But well, I was already on my way here when I found you.” he eyed her nervously, as if expecting her to panic. Charlotte merely blinked. She was missing something. It nagged at her as she tried to put everything together.

This man was familiar, although she was certain she’d never met him before. She ruined a suit worth more than her car and he barely noticed. His hair was too perfect. Teeth too white. He wore makeup. He'd taken her to a monster embassy for medical attention before chickening out. He’d already been on his way there when he found her…

Oh…

OH!

Charlotte leapt to her feet rounding on the man. He jumped dark brows raising.

"YOU!" She pointed at the now bewildered man. He blinked.

“Me?”

“You’re a U.S. Senator! I recognize you from the paper!” Charlotte didn’t realize she was shouting until after it came out of her mouth. She gasped clamping her hands over her mouth, face flushing.

A pinched look twitched over the man’s face, as if he was trying not to laugh. He scratched his nose.

“eh…ha.. Guilty.”

“Holy moly mother of moses!” Charlotte let out a frazzled laugh. She swayed slightly.  The senator eyed her, hands coming up in another gesture of surrender.

“Miss Fox I think you should lay back down. You’re—“

"I'm so sorry for troubling you! Gash! I promise I don't normally have freak outs like that! I don't know what happens! I'm so sorry senator...senator.." Charlotte’s head spun. She let out another pained laugh. The senator grimaced. “Wow…I’m such a ditz! I can’t remember your name? Is that bad? Am I-I talking too loud?” She staggered. The man put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

“Call me Jack. Just Jack is fine. Please—let’s just sit back down. Nice and easy…” The man guided her back down to the grass, eyeing her as if he expected her to start seizing again. Charlotte pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead.

“Sorry…” she  mumbled.

“Eh, its alright miss. There’s a lot of us.” Jack rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “Truth be told I don’t know half of those old stuff-shirts names either.” He winked. Charlotte shut her mouth.

A brief silence fell between them. Jack was regarding the woman hesitantly, seemingly deep in thought.

“Miss Fox… Do you mind if I borrow your phone for a moment? I left mine in my other jacket.” He asked, coming to kneel beside her again. Charlotte nodded drunkenly.

"thank you" he fished the phone out of Charlotte’s bag and started tapping away at it.  His brows creased, and he squinted over his spectacles at the screen.

“Is something wrong?” Charlotte asked. He let out a faint laugh shaking his head.

“Just… showing my age I guess. Didn’t these things used to have buttons? Can’t seem to get the dial pad pulled up…” 

“Let me see.” Charlotte held out a hand for it. He grinned sheepishly. Charlotte noticed he had pretty eyes.

“Again, thank you.”

Somehow Jack had managed to open the email messenger and was attempting to type the phone number into the subject line. She closed the app and opened up an empty text message for him. “Here. Try this.”

“Thank you.” Jack squinted at the screen, tapping out each number and letter one at a time. When he was finished he slipped the phone back into Charlotte’s bag. “I asked someone to take you in to see the medic. I hope that’s alright...”

“That’s fine…” Charlotte nodded. The man relaxed somewhat, but his nervousness didn’t abate. He threw a glance off towards the front of the building. Charlotte read his thoughts.

"Is this your first time visiting the monsters sir?" Charlotte asked. The man registered surprise glancing back at her.

" Oh. Yes. I um, just got off the plane last night” He ran a hand through his hair. "Its that obvious is it? Damn...heh,  I guess I'm in more trouble than I thought. Hm?"

Charlotte considered him. Poor guy. He’s a nervous wreck.  So his jumpiness wasn’t completely her fault then. Charlotte instantly felt a bit protective of the kindly politician. He was a lot more down to earth than she'd expected a senator to be. And he seemed so young (comparatively speaking anyway). Charlotte patted his hand feeling the need to comfort him.

“You really don’t have anything to be nervous about.” She assured. “I know a lot of monsters can be kinda intimidating. But most of them are really nice once you get to know them.”

“Oh?” Jack glanced at her, smiling faintly. Charlotte pointed off towards the front doors.

“See those two big guys guarding the doors? Total sweethearts. Just smile and be friendly. They won’t bite.  Oh! And the big knight looking guy at the front desk? He can come off as a little grumpy but he’s just tired. I think he might have narcolepsy actually.” She gestured animatedly, not noticing the smile on Jack’s face growing wider. “What else… oh! There’s a big fish lady in armor—that’s Captain Undyne. She can be real intense but she’s alright. She just wants everyone to be safe. Just make sure you check in at the front desk and keep your visitors pass visible at all times. She won’t bother you. and then—“

“Are you an ambassador?” Jack asked out of the blue. Charlotte paused, losing her train of thought.

“Huh?”

“You seem to know everyone so well. I assumed you must work here.” Jack shrugged. Charlotte felt her face flush.

“Oh! No no, I don’t work here. I just um—know a lot of people who do.” She stammered timidly. Jack’s grin grew wider.

“Well, maybe you should. They could use somebody like you around here.” He bumped her arm playfully with his own. In the distance, Charlotte could see the two guards from the front gate making their way across the grass towards them. Jack sighed. “I’m really glad I met you miss Fox. It really helps to hear about these monsters from someone like you. You seem to know them all so well. And genuinely like them.”

Charlotte lowered her eyes, shoulders coming up.

"I do like them. They're just... People really. Most of them are really kind once you get to know them."

The mans smile waned ever so slightly.

"Have you met king dreemmur?"

Charlotte heart dropped like a lead brick.

"U-um... I don't really know him. I only met him once or twice..."

Jack sighed. Disappointment. Charlotte bit her lip.

"B-but I hear he's very kind! All the monsters I know say he's a big softy! A-and..." She trailed off. "Well. I know he's kind of intimidating. But I think you'll be fine. Really!"

The man smiled weakly.

Sadness. Doubt. Worry.

"Can you do me a favor miss fox?" Jack asked.

"What is it?"

"Don't..." He hesitated. "Don't come around this neighborhood alone anymore. Bring a friend with you."

"Why?"

"It's just... People like you seem like they're finding trouble around here. It's better safe than sorry." "Bring a couple humans, or one of your monster friends with you when you come. Alright?"

Charlotte found herself nodding.

"Good. Good girl." He grinned getting to his feet. The guards clunked up. When they caught sight of her their eye-lights widened.

“Lady dude!” The bunny guard gasped. The other guard knelt down quickly to scoop her up into his arms. “Bogus! What happened? You look like you got ran over by a friggin-“ The guard holding her elbowed the speaker in the ribs. He gestured vaguely towards Jack. Both of them stood at attention.

“Uh- I mean—Greetings Mr. Senator Dude…Sir.” He grunted as professionally as he could. Jack’s grin widened, twinkling eyes flashing to Charlotte. “Your party is like—waiting in the lobby for your arrival. Allow me to like… Escort you. 02 here will make sure little lady dude gets to the infirmary alright. Kay?”

“Thank you. That would be perfect.” Jack hummed nodding to 01. His eyes drifted to Charlotte once again. "Think about what I said about that ambassador thing will you? You definitely brighten up the place." He winked, letting the guard lead him off towards the building. Once he was gone 02 spoke up in his deep quiet voice.

“Senator man said you had a bad trip in the street. You alright?”  He started carrying her off towards the building.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” She mumbled, squinting slightly. What had happened to her? Something definitely had. But the more she tried to think about it, the less she was able to remember clearly. She’d felt funny. Everything got dark. Red had been there…

Red?

The presence stirred weakly.

Distant. Annoyed. Grumbling.

You… you okay…?

You lied to him.

Red stated. Voice unfriendly. Charlotte bit her lip.

I know.

They’ll find out the truth eventually. You know that right?

I know. Its just… People like him—what they think of monsters is really important. If I told him what Asgore did… he wouldn’t understand.  That opinion wouldn’t just stop at the king. It would spread to the rest of the monsters too. And… that’s not fair.

A weak scoff.

Not fair?

It’ll make it harder on everyone else. Harder to get like—jobs and rights and stuff. Won’t it? That’s not fair.  They shouldn’t have to pay for stuff they didn’t do.

A stab of anger.

What about the book? What about telling the cops about Asgore…?

Charlotte bit her lip, hands feeling for her bag. She could still make out the cool leather cover. She closed her eyes.

No…You can't be changing your mind now. What if he does it again? Huh? What if  Asgore kills some other little kid and gets away with it because you chose not to say anything about it?!

Red was getting herself worked up again. Oozing with emotion. With hopelessness. But…

What changed?

Why didn’t that echo of distant suffering feel overpowering anymore? When did it shrink? When did it stop feeling so impending. So important…?

Maybe it was because of Jack. He'd been nervous about meeting the king but he seemed like a genuinely good person. Fair. Open-minded. His opinions were worth their weight in gold as far as anyone in the government was concerned. And he said he'd been grateful to meet her. That she had helped him somehow. Made things just a little bit brighter—more welcoming.

Maybe that meant…

Red shoved Charlotte’s soul weakly. A growl.

You’re starting to think like a friggin planeteer again Greenie…

Charlotte closed her eyes, listening to the soft clu-clunking of 02’s steady footsteps. She drew in a breath.

I’m going to talk to him.

A strain of disgust. Frustration.

He-he doesn't deserve-

We don’t know WHAT he deserves Red. That’s the problem.  Charlotte cut in. Red went silent.

Everything we do—even if its just you and me—it makes a difference. Turning him in doesn’t just hurt Asgore. It affects everyone. And if we make the wrong choice…

I’m tired. I’m tired of being the only one who doesn’t know whats going on. I have to talk to him. He knows us. I don’t know how, but he knew us Red.  And…I don’t know… Maybe—somehow we know him too. I-I’m not going to make a decision until I get a chance to actually talk to him.

Seething. Frustration. Anger.

Sans seemed to know us too Greenie. She hissed. How well did that turn out for us?

Charlotte’s heart clenched, breathing picking up. A ringing began in her ears. And then…and then—

The cool metal of a large armored hand pressed gently into her cheek.

“Lady dude… you okay?” it was 02’s voice.  He had stopped walking and was peering down at her, eyelights, dimmed with worry. She quieted her breathing, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah…yeah I’m fine… thanks…” She whispered. 02’s head dipped to the side slightly, eye lights brightening.

“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha. We’re most there.” He hummed. Charlotte’s heart flip flopped. They were all so kind. So genuine. Worthy of protecting. Worth trying to help one more time…

Red growled, sinking back into the darker corners of Charlotte’s mind.

If you’re wrong. If someone else gets murdered. Its on your hands Greenie. Understand?

Charlotte closed her eyes again, letting out a long breath.

I understand.

##########################################################################

He’d been waiting for this.

The Senator stepped into the large office. He’d dismissed his bodyguards, opting to go in alone. It was dark.  The curtains were drawn. The only light was the soft orange glow from the fireplace.  a single towering figure stood at the window.

Jack had imagined this moment. Played it over a thousand times in his mind. Rehearsed every word. Explored every possible action. Every outcome. He’d lived and breathed and dreamt this moment.

And he’d wished—he’d prayed it would never ever come.

Jack approached. The King didn’t speak, he just peered down at the man, hands clasped behind his back. Jack mirrored his pose. Back straight. Chin raised. He wouldn’t let the king see his fear. He couldn’t.

Without a word the king offered a hand. Jack took it, letting his own disappear within the king’s grip. The monster squeezed, eyes locking onto the human like a lazer beam. Then he spoke. Voice deep, tired—all grayed out from too many passes.

“Hello again Senator Aster.”

Jack lifted his head higher, deep purple eyes rising to meet the king’s. He forced a weary smile.

“Hello Devil.”

#####################################################################################

 I'm gonna go hide under a rock now. Kay?

Chapter Text

 Want more illustrations? Suggest ideas on tumblr.

TUMBLR: http://sftdt.tumblr.com/

AN: I hate this chapter… Like… really reeeeeaaaally hate it. It fought me valiantly. Pretty sure it won.

I’m going to bed…

letsallbecalmchaps: Yeah, She’s starting to fight her a little more.

ThrowawaySpecificallyForThisComment: I guess we’ll find out… ;)

Irukaj: Haha. I kinda knew it was about to hit the fan when I revealed that Aster was still around. Wasn’t sure how everyone would respond to that sort of bomb being dropped. I’m glad you like Greenie and Red’s dynamic. I enjoy writing them a lot.

This is the kind of thing I always thought would happen if the aftermath of the game was realistic. The kind of cold war esque fear and tension was what I found fascinating and wanted to explore. So I’m glad you find it realistic.

I’m glad you like Charlotte. It seems like most people are on the fence about her. Either they like her or they want to throw her out the window. XD I can honestly sympathize with both points of view.

And as to the Aster bit—hence why I have taken up refuge under a rock. ;)

Menoshe: yep. His actual first name is Ajax. But Jack Aster… it was too sweet to pass up.

eJ121: hey pal. I know this is going to sound like a bad writer cop-out… buuuuut… the listing of emotions was kind of intentional on my part. XD

Charlotte’s main power/ability that she gleans from her soul type is Empathy. Or the ability to feel the emotions of others. So when I’m throwing out emotions without more description—I’m attempting (poorly) to portray how Charlotte reads them. Her consciousness of peoples emotions isn’t tied to facial expressions, body language or even the words they use but rather more of an intuitive unconscious kind of understanding. Like the other person is rolling up their feels into spit wads and flicking them into her face. They’re just suddenly—there.

I try not to use the same description layout when I’m writing from other characters perspectives but I’m pretty sure I’ve screwed up a couple of times there. XD

Thanks for letting me know. It’s a fair point and if it gets too distracting and detracts from the reading experience I’ll ease up and try something else.

As for the length, We’re a little over halfway in.

Lambs and Amneal24: yep. It’ll make more sense as It goes on.

GenericDragon: Hey, glad you’re enjoying this! Hope I don’t disappoint.

Chapter 23: Threshold

Charlotte sat outside of the laboratory door in a large armchair legs crossed awaiting 02’s return. The guard had given her a small box of frozen treats labeled ‘Nice creams’. Not for eating though, but to press the cold packages against her swollen head. It was a kind gesture Charlotte supposed. However At one point the popsicles starting leaking, and before she knew it there was a glowing blue stain of juice running down her face. The human grimaced; definitely not her proudest moment.

Charlotte tossed the now liquefied nice cream bar into the bin, licking her sticky fingers before sinking deeper into her oversized seat. The laboratory door was fairly thick, but she could still hear 02 and the doctor inside bickering in hushed tones about what to do with her.

When Charlotte was about ten years old she’d found a robin with a broken wing on her way home from school. Being the overly emotional animal loving shmuck that she was, she’d tearfully carried the wounded animal all the way home and brought it to her mother and father.

Now to their credit, Charlotte’s parents were very kind people. They were also very clean people. And incidentally that was the year when bird flu was on the rise in their area. So while charlotte frantically tried to convince her parents to help her nurse the animal back to health; her parents tried to persuade her to kindly get the diseased thing off of their dining room table and put it back outside.

I hate irony…

“W-why did you bring them here?!” stammered a nervous female voice. They sounded a bit nasal—like they had a perpetual cold. The two been at it for a quarter of an hour, and if Charlotte hadn’t felt quite so dizzy, she would have taken off already and avoided this awkward meeting altogether. Once again, 02’s deep mellow voice came to her defense.

“Like, what else was I supposed to do? What with th’ Doc all MIA and stuff?” he whispered back. Charlotte forced her eyes open at this, head cocking towards the door. A doctor was missing?  

“They’re hurt Alph, All banged up and helpless n’ stuff. What do you want me to do? Just like, toss em outside in the cold?” 02 mourned dramatically. The doctor groaned.

“It’s eighty-five degrees outside.”

Charlotte heard 02 clu-clunk in a way that made her think he was taking a step—probably closer to the doctor.

“C’mon Alph, I promised I’d get em fixed up…” 02 really was making a rather valiant effort. At least in Charlotte’s opinion. Despite her embarrassment Charlotte found it rather sweet.  While Red had been uncharacteristically quiet since their talk about Asgore and the book, she still scoffed and gave a mental eye roll whenever 02 spoke. Red was in as foul a mood as ever and she had focused her prickliness onto the big easygoing guard.

“I don’t know anything about fixing humans!” The doctor sounded anxious. 02 wasn’t having any of it though.

“You fix monsters all the time! What’s the big deal?”

“Th-that’s completely different! Monsters are made of magic—humans have organs, blood, little…squishy bits…”

Clunk clunk clunk.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve worked on non-magic stuff before haven’t ya?”

“Well…yeah just lab rats and stuff… I grew a kidney in a pig once.” the doctor sounded nervous. “B-but I’ve never worked on a real human before…”

Cluck-clunk

“So what? Rats, pigs, humans… how different can they possibly be?” 02 rumbled innocently. He was met with a nasally mixture of a snort and a choke emanating from the doctor. Another sudden clunking.

“Ohmigosh! 02! You can’t just say things like that!” The doctor hissed. “What if the human hears you!?”

There was a long pause. Charlotte could practically hear the little wheels and cogs turning in 02’s head. He let out a mellow grunt.

“Was that like…racist?”

A weary grin found its way onto Charlotte’s face. She heard the doctor swearing under her breath and shushing the guard frantically. Red however stiffened.

Idiot.

Well I like him.

Pfft… You would.

The doctor let out another moan.

“Listen… unless that human out there needs a pig kidney, I don’t think there’s anything I’m going to be able to do for them. I really am sorry…”

02 clunked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Could ya like… check?  You know, pop the hood and poke around inside? Just to make sure nothing’s broken?”  02 asked.

“It’s a human 02. Not a pickup truck…”

Uhgh…I’ve had just about all I can stand of these two. Let’s just go…

I’m not going to just ditch him.  Charlotte returned with a sigh. As much as she wanted to, it didn’t feel right wandering off on 02. Not after how hard he’d argued his case to this ‘Alph’ person. Red jeered.

Pfft. What if Asgore or that smiley trashbag walk by and find us sitting out here? Hm? Or did you forget they both worked here? 

At the mention of Sans Charlotte folded her arms uncomfortably.

Doesn’t seem like many people come down here. Besides… I’m not sure I can walk too good right now…my head hurts pretty bad…

Is that seriously your excuse? Your head hurts? Pfft!

It…It does…

Oh come on Greenie. You’ve got legs. You could get up off your ass and walk outta here if you wanted. YOU just want to stick around and let that bucket of bolts gush over you. How pathetic…

Charlotte squinted her eyes shut, trying to ignore Red’s jabs. She forced herself to focus in on the conversation behind the door.

“She’s like, waiting outside Alph. Can’t send her away without at least getting her looked at. Thas’ bogus. I’m not doin’ it…”  02 sniffed. The doctor hesitated.

“I’m…I’m going to make a fool of myself. Look at me—I’m already all shaky and they haven’t even come in yet!” the doctor’s voice grew shrill. Charlotte felt a little bad for causing such a fuss. There was another clunking noise as 02 shifted closer to the doctor.

“You’re kinda sweaty too…”

 “Oh great… Why do lab coats have to be white?” The doctor mourned. A muffled sniffing  sound. Then a grunt.

“You don’t smell too grody” 02 soothed. “And hey! At least you like don’t have to worry about rust…”

Breathtaking. I’m so glad we’re here to experience this…

Charlotte brought up her legs with a groan, resting her forehead against her knees.

Be…nice…

We’re wasting time on these morons. Really.

‘re…Not…morons…

Of course, look who I’m talking to… Red grumbled. She drew in closer to Charlotte’s soul. She began stroking it invitingly.Look if you’re so worried about not being able to make it home without swooning, then just turn loose and let ME get us back?

Why don’t you just shut the hell up Red?  Charlotte hissed.

Well why don’t YOU just—Just… A mental double take. Red gaped. Charlotte’s eyes came open realizing what she’d just said. Where did that come from?

What did you just say to me…? Red growled. Charlotte flushed. She forced herself to sit up straight, and cleared her throat.

W-we are staying right here. Charlotte jabbed a finger into the cushion beneath her to drive home her point.

 O-okay?

Red was silent for a long moment. Then she scoffed recoiling moodily from Charlotte’s soul.

Yeah. Whatever…

“T-there’s a reason they keep me here in the basement 02…” The doctor mumbled, voice slightly muffled as if her face was pressed into her hands while she spoke.  “I-I’m no good with all these political types.  I’m-I’m just going to end up embarrassing Asgore again…”

“No no, it’s cool—really. She’s not even the Washington kind of human.” 02 was quick to reassure her. “She’s like the uh, um…smallish…chillaxed…kind?”  He said the last bit uncertainly and Charlotte cooed mentally feeling a sudden swell of affection for the guard. Red made no comment.

“F-fine...” The doctor sighed. “I’ll…I’ll see what I can do…”

The lab door opened and 02 came clunking out to meet the human, eye lights triumphantly bright.

“Hey, sorry that took so long. But like, th’ doc is ready for ya now.”

Charlotte returned the smile she was certain was plastered on his face beneath his helmet before rising and following him into the lab. The lab was set up a lot like Sans’ back at the flat. However it was on a much larger more extensive scale. The room was brightly lit, walls lined with monitors, scales and a variety of other beeping machines Charlotte didn’t have names for. 02 gave Charlotte’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze before clunking off to return to his post. She gave him a small wave before heading further into the room in search of the doctor. Said doctor had their back to Charlotte, long yellow tail swishing against the floor as they worked. They were hurriedly clearing their desktop of empty take out boxes and soda cans when Charlotte walked up.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me. I hope it’s not any trouble.” Charlotte said, causing the doctor to jump. “I uh… realize this probably isn’t your normal job.”

“N-no no! Its no trouble at all!” The doctor stammered, sweeping what looked like pokemon cards and pogs into the top drawer of her desk. “I’m h-happy to help! It’s nice to—“The doctor turned fast to face the human and went quiet. Her mouth fell open and she  stared; scaley yellow face going white.  “…M-meet you…” she finished lamely.

Charlotte’s heart leapt up into her throat and she  dropped her backpack letting out a tiny squeaking gasp. Red jumped at the human’s reaction.

What?! What’s wrong? What is it?!

Charlotte brain gasped, eyes tracing over the doctor’s body—taking it all in. A kind of giddiness bubbled through the human, chasing away her shock. Red tensed.

Greenie…?

Stygimoloch!   The thought popped out like a belch.

Stigy— What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

Charlotte was practically vibrating with excitement. She turned her eyes towards the doctor who looked equally shocked—though for a decidedly different reason.

Dinosaur! Cretaceous period! Oh bollocks she’s gorgeous!

The fuck are you talking about?!

Charlotte’s giddy brain dug around until it found a memory of a fossilized dinosaur skeleton she’d once seen at a natural history museum. She shoved the image into Red’s consciousness, internally squealing in delight. Red stared at the fossil. Bipedal. Long tail. Between 6 and 7 feet tall. Short muzzle. Horns protruding from the back of its skull. Red groaned.

Greenie you mother fucking nerd I swear—

The human rushed forwards and took the doctor’s clawed hand shaking it eagerly.

“Sorry! I’m just um, really excited to f-finally meet you!” Charlotte chirped, eyes tracing eagerly over the dinosaur-like monster’s face.

From the age of four till the end of elementary school, Charlotte had been a dinosaur fanatic she devoured books on the subject and seen all the documentaries she could get her hands on. When she was six she’d watched the Disney movie Dinosaur over and over so many times that her babysitter Gina ‘accidentally’ ran it over with her car.

And While Charlotte hadn’t really thought about dinosaurs since she was about 9, the prospect of meeting a real one (or close to it) unleashed her inner dinosaur geek. The human was so excited she didn’t the doctor close the folder on her desk and discreetly slip it into the top drawer. Red hardened in Charlotte’s chest, gaze narrowing.

Greenie…

 “O-oh…” The doctor forced a nervous smile, revealing a pair of rather bucky incisors. She was sweating. “Its n-nice to meet you too!” Charlotte nodded. She clasped her hands politely to her front. A beat of silence. The dinosaur’s sweating grew more noticeable.

“R-right! My name is Dr. Alphys. C-come right on in… We’ll get you…sorted out…” the doctor stammered. “J-just… sit over there on the examination table. I’ve gotta—I have to get… Erm. I’ll be right back!” Paying Charlotte one last pained grin Alphys  all but ran from her disappearing into a small room. The door slamming shut behind her with a reverberating thud. Charlotte’s brows rose.

What…?

Quick. Top drawer. Look in it Greenie. Red growled.

Wait why?

Red shoved Charlotte’s soul hard.

Just do it! I need to see somethin…

But…

Charlotte pulled a face, gaze flashing back towards the room where Alphys fled. Red made an exasperated noise.

Damnit Greenie! Can you just trust me for once?! She’s probably already calling him!

Him…?

Charlotte frowned. Something about the urgency of Red’s command made Charlotte obey. She  opened the top drawer of the desk and peering inside. Pokemon cards. Strawberry pocky. Several holographic pogs featuring an anime character with cat ears…and a single manella folder. A folder with the letters ‘C. FOX’ written on the tab. The blood ran from Charlotte’s face. And with shaky hands, she opened it.

Drivers license number, W2s, previous addresses, family photos, even a copy of her birth certificate—how did they find all of this? It was all here. Every shred of her personal information—her entire identity, neatly compiled into a single folder.

He’s been spying.  Red growled. Son of a bitch sent his sniffer dogs after us.

Charlotte didn’t reply. Her hands began to shake.  

“S-sorry about that!” Alphys voice snapped up Charlotte’s attention. The doctor had emerged from th e back room hefting a grey medical bag under her arm. “I just had to grab some…some…” Alphys eyes fell like bricks onto the folder in Charlotte’s hands. Then—silence.

“Dr. Alphys? Did…Asgore ask you to check up on me…?” Charlotte asked meekly.

The doctor grimaced, head ducking. Her face was so red it was practically glowing. She seemed to be trying to hide her face in her coat.

“U-um…its not what you—I mean…uh…”

Charlotte slowly closed the folder and put it down on the desk. How was she supposed to feel about this? Asgore had done a full blown background check on her. And by the looks of things, he hadn’t left a single stone unturned.  Sure, she’d left a pretty messy trail after the first time she’d visited, it wasn’t as if it would have been difficult to find out more about her. And now that it was clear she’d been found out…

Did she want to be found?

Charlotte shook her throbbing head, hands coming up to massage her temples.

This is a government facility… And I did , break into the private office of the most powerful leader in the monster kingdom…

The human grimaced. Things could be much worse. She was lucky she wasn’t rotting away in some federal prison already wasn’t she…?

Charlotte sank into Alphys’ desk chair. The doctor eyed her fretfully, mumbled half-formed apologies and explanations.

This was all wrong…

Charlotte hadn’t meant to come back like this. To face him again so soon. After Sans attacked her, after the danger had become all too real. After seeing what a small monster could do to her if enraged—her nerve had broken.  The human had always been too trusting—too oblivious to just how bad things could get. Asgore had called out to her and the innocent part of her wanted to go back. To set everything straight. But she’d been too nervous, too afraid to approach him on of her own volition.  

Would he be annoyed with her for disobeying his orders to come back? Angry that she trespassed in his private rooms, and actually had the gall to strike him?

 As the weeks passed Charlotte’s determination to set everything straight dwindled. Even now her resolve to see the king again had been contingent on him seeking her out. Because that meant that he wanted to see her again. And because if Asgore tracked her down and wanted to talk—well then she would have to oblige. Who could say no to a king?  It was so much easier to choose when the choice was never yours to begin with.

Charlotte closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath.

“Dr. Alphys? When you went into the other room you were calling him… weren’t you?” Charlotte mumbled. The dinosaur flinched.

“I-I…”

“It’s okay. Just… please… Tell me the truth.” Charlotte turned to the doctor paying her a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “He knows I’m here now. Doesn’t he?”  The doctor looked as though she wanted to be anywhere else but there. She shuffled her feet, eyes downcast.

“Y-…yes.”

###########################################################################################

What say you? is it a match?

Chapter Text

INTERLUDE: Deadly Words

Four months. That's how long Asgore had known of Aster’s existence. He'd learned of it two days after Frisk's death.

The senator made an official request to give a special memorial address for Frisk’s passing. And his government granted it. He’d come on the news--before the whole world and paid his condolences.

To the world, it was a gesture of comfort and peace towards monsters and humans alike. An expression of condolences for the tragic loss of a remarkable young woman. And for many of Asgore's people it was touching. An uncommon kindness that most human politicians would not think to extend.

Asgore knew better. Toriel never fought in the war. Had never seen Aster's face. And no others still lived that would recognize it.  So in the end, only Asgore and Gerson recognized Aster’s address for what it was. Only they had seen the threat the old mage had clenched behind those grinning white teeth.

I'm still here old friend. Have you forgotten me? I haven't forgotten you.


Aster the perseverant had cheated death once again.  And after all this time he was still able to hurt them. Still in a position to destroy everything Frisk had worked lived and died to create.

They’d looked into him, tried to track down the minutia of his past. Aster’s record was as straight and clean as his fake sneering smile. Asgore glowered when he read of his works. Ten centuries and still playing the hero.

The mage was viewed as a promising new face in Washington. As a rising star that hardball politics had yet to corrupt. Many referred to him as a regular 'Mr. Smith in Washington'--whatever that meant. From what  Asgore could gather, it meant that humans thought highly of his moral fiber. He'd gone up for reelection the previous year-- and won by a landslide.

It was a sickening discovery. One Asgore and the old General felt that their people should remain ignorant of. The old mage had yet to attack. He hadn’t used his pull in politics to spearhead another war, or to spread hate speech about the monsters. No. The human had remained inexplicably quiet and neutral about the whole thing.

Asgore and the General spent many hours trying to decipher what this meant. Surely he’d learned months earlier of the monsters’ escape from Ebbot. Yet Aster hadn't made himself know until Frisk’s death. They’d decided that could only mean one of two things.

Optimistically, it meant Aster had been ignoring them-- or at least watching them quietly but still allowing them to make their unsteady peace with humanity without his direct interference.

And he's only revealed himself upon frisks death as a warning. A warning to Asgore  keep his hands clean. A warning that he'd be watching. This could mean that Aster was willing to overlook the past if the monsters maintained the peace. It could mean that he'd learned of frisks death and believed --as everyone in Washington seemed to think-- that Asgore had been the one to do this.   

For while the majority of humans were ignorant to how frisk had died, the human government was not. They knew as well as he did that the ambassador had not been taken out by a bullet. But by magic.

If this was the case, it meant that there was still a chance for peace. That Aster wasn’t going about as they feared to orchestrate their destruction.

The other explanation was far more threatening. Aster had been watching them from the beginning. Biding his time and keeping hidden while searching for a way to hurt them. To stick a knife in Asgore’s soul and twist it. That opportunity came in the form of a child. The child of the king and queen. Their hope for future peaceful relations with humanity. Their ambassador. Aster hated them, and in the years since Asgore first met the him, he learned just how far that hatred could go. If that were true, it meant that Aster had been the one to kill Frisk. Or at least orchestrated his assassination. That would explain why he hadn’t revealed himself until after Frisk’s death. No one would be looking for him. No one would expect it. Until it was too late.

And his sudden appearance after the tragedy was his way of taking credit for the death. Of letting Asgore know that he could still hurt him, even after all these years. He still held all the cards.

This was the worst case scenario. The one meant Aster was not giving them the benefit of the doubt and letting them live out their lives in peace. The one that proved Aster would never stop. He never forgave and he never forgot. And he would never be satisfied until Asgore and his people were wiped from the face of the earth.

Gerson and the king hoped and prayed that it was the first option. They’d spoken at length about how it was possible Aster was still around to plague them. Though it wasn’t too surprising when they considered just who they were dealing with.

Aster the perseverant had dusted hundreds if not thousands of their people in the twenty years he fought them during the war. And while the nature of human magic was still poorly understood, the nature of LOVE was all too familiar. LOVE was power. It was attained by absorbing the residual magic of fallen monsters.  And Aster had amassed more LOVE than any other man in monster history.

And his victims were not just common monsters. He'd killed the ancients. The boss monsters. The undying. Asgore’s lineage.

Immortality was an odd color on humans. For a monster, their vitality came from their magic. They could live indefinitely so long as they kept their hope. But their brand of immortality dies with them when their souls break. Then they are gone.  

Conversely, Humans lives are pitifully short. Their flesh and bones would fail them-- would rot away with time. but their souls would remain. Human vitality came from their powerful souls. For them immortal life came only after death.

But Aster never died. His face was barely lined; His body was still strong still in its prime. He looked the same as he did when Asgore last saw him. That moment before the barrier went up. The moment Humanity won.

Aster was an affront of nature. An abomination thriving on secondhand magic. And through the inherent power of preservence-- of the stubborn ability to survive--that he stole his extra years. It was the potential immortality of thousands of monsters that gave the human his own.


So many lives lost. So soullessly brutal-- was Aster even human anymore?

During the war, some monsters believed that Aster was no human at all, but a demon given flesh. A destroying angel sent to punish them. And the survivors-- those who had witnessed Aster’s malice first hand-- were among the most fervent believers.

Asgore knew Aster. He was no demon. No angel of death. He was human. A man twisted and warped by hatred and despair into something profane. Something sinister. And to Asgore-- the knowledge of his humanity made him more terrifying than any demon could be.

And yet…

battle after battle Asgore and Aster’s paths never crossed. Other human troops assailed the king’s numbers, but Aster’s battalion skirted around them, always sending others to fight him while thinning the monster’s numbers elsewhere.

Why?

After all Aster believed the king had done to him-- to his people; Why had he never come for Asgore? The king was his real prize was he not? The object of his malice. The reason for all of this madness. Why had he hidden?


The monster troops had a rumor among them that the reason Aster never attacked Asgore’s army was because he was afraid of the king. That the demon was too cowardly to face their magnificent leader head on.
Asgore never dismissed this belief. The rumor brought up troop morale. It made them believe that they still had some advantage in this war. That eventually they would be victorious.
They needed something to give them courage.

But Asgore knew better. The reports of Asters LV from his generals was enough. Aster had no reason to fear the king any longer. He may have feared him at one point; back when he was a helpless broken child. But those days were dead, and Asgore knew that if he ever faced Aster hand to hand--he would die.

And while Asgore didn’t know why Aster had never challenged him He knew that cowardice had nothing to do with it.

The true reason became clear soon enough. It was so obvious, Asgore wondered why he didn’t realize it from the beginning.

Aster didn't want the king dead.

Death was honorable.

Death was peaceful.

No,

Aster had a much crueler punishment in store for the king.

The barrier.

The horror of watching his people fall like hay beneath a scythe, followed by an eternity entombed with the survivors. An eternity with the knowledge that he'd lost. That Aster the perseverant had the last laugh.

Eternity hadn’t lasted as long as he’d thought. The barrier had fallen. Asgore's people had been freed.

And now?

Aster stood before the king once again. The two of them left alone in Asgore’s office.  And Aster, wasn't laughing.


"Hello Devil" Aster sighed.. Asgore returned the humans weary smile and peered down at the man who had brought his people to their knees.

And he looked small.

Even after all these years. After all Aster had done, Asgore still saw the defiant child whose world he’d destroyed so many lifetimes ago.

The king was numb.

"Come in old friend" Asgore sighed. He stepped aside so that Aster could enter. The human passed him coming to stand by the window.

How long did they stand there in silence? Minutes? Hours?  Asgore didn’t know. It didn't feel long at all for the ancient beings. They had all the time they needed.

All the time in the world.

"It's amazing. Isn't it? How much it's all changed." Aster spoke softly, letting their silence break gently.

"The children walk around out there, with true wonders at their fingertips. They carry the sum of all of humanities knowledge in their pockets.” Asgore saw a wry grin form on the human’s face. “and they use it to play FarmVille." Asgore breathed in nice and slow.

"What is farmville?"

Aster let out a quiet breathy laugh, finally turning to look up at the king.

"Haven't the foggiest."

Asgore glanced down at the human. Then returned his gaze to the window.

"I’ve dismissed my guards.” Asgore said softly.

“As did I.”

“Are you ready then?” Asgore asked. Aster strode leisurely towards the King’s desk. He lifted a letter opener from the drawer, running his thumb over the blade. He sighed.

“I suppose I am.”




Asgore had his trident at the ready when the human turned around to face him. Aster raised his chin and widened his stance but made no other move to attack. He was still. waiting.  Asgore's grip tightened, and he steeled himself in the realization. Aster was letting him make the first move.

Asgore bowed his head, swallowing his regret. There was no passing up an invitation like this. He knew such mercy would not be extended twice. 

No more words.

No more hiding. 

It was time for action.

 The king lunged closing the space between them in half a stride. He attacked, trident swinging as white hot balls of fire shot at the man from all directions. Aster made no move to escape the blow. Not so much as a twitch of emotion crossed his face. Three heartbeats. 

One. 

Two. 

BANG! 

Asgore hit a wall. A wall of purple magic. A wave. A barrier. It hit the king like a wrecking ball. His trident went clattering as the breath was smashed from his lungs. The world tipped. His head ached. and the king found himself staring up at the ceiling as it spun above him like a whirligig.

A face filled Asgore’s view. Aster stood over him, eyes aflame with magic. Expression blank. Asgore jerked straining to reach his trident. He could not lift so much as an arm to it. The magic pressed down on him, that wall of crackling power pinning him to the ground as he struggled and fought in vain to break free. Aster's head tilted to one side.

Asgore stopped struggling, letting the breath hiss out of his lungs. Then his face grew blank. Emotionless to mirror the one peering down at him. 

So. This was his lot was it?  This is how long the king of monsters-- their champion could last against his old enemy. He had been aware of this from the beginning. But the confirmation was no less sobering.  One turn. One round.  one attack, given as charity and Asgore was already defeated. 

Asgore would not beg. He'd decided this early on. If it ever came to a battle, he would bow out with grace.  He would not prolong the inevitable, nor would he  attempt to reason with his captor.

He was a king. And kings do not beg. For the sake of their people, kings live breathe and die with their dignity. With honor. 

The man stepped up onto the King's chest. One foot. then another glowing purple eyes never leaving the king's. never dropping that calm empty expression. The human’s weight wasn’t painful. And with the pressure of his magic already pressing down on him, Asgore barely registered the difference.

Without a word aster lowered himself until he was kneeling on the king's chest hands in his lap. Head cocked in a look of contemplation. Then he laughed softly.


"We're just a pair of old relics now. Aren't we devil?" His words came soft little more than a whisper. Asgore said nothing.

Aster smiled softly. And the king thought he looked almost mournful. Though that may have been wishful thinking. Aster lifted the letter opener testing its sharpness against the blunt of his hand. His gaze returned to the king.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Aster whispered.

Asgore said nothing. He closed his eyes listening as the smaller being’s breathing grew heavier. The cool metal of the knife pressed against the warm flesh beneath Asgore's beard. 

“Answer me” Aster hissed, voice never rising above a whisper. Asgore took a breath. 

"You were just a boy. a child."

A soft breathy laugh escaped the human. The blade pressed down harder.

"And when has that ever stopped you Devil?" Aster hissed. The blade had drawn blood now, a tiny amount glinting against the cool metal. “Tell me the truth.” The command came out just as quiet as the rest. But some emotion flickered behind it. The ghost of an ancient pain.

Asgore let out a sigh opening his eyes. The man had his fisted hands pressed into the carpeting on either side of the king's great head. His face now beaded with sweat less than a foot from Asgore’s.

Asgore let the air out of his lungs, and the human’s expression twitched as the warm air puffed into his face. The king tried to conjure up the will to hate him. The rage he’d felt after Frisk’s death. The wrath that had nearly killed Charlotte Fox. But he could not. He was just too tired.

"You said it yourself little warrior" asgore whispered, turning his face away.  "There was nothing I could have done to you. You were already dead."

Asgore shut his eyes peacefully and waited for the blow. For the human to end him-- just as he always had wanted. But it didn’t come. And Asgore felt the cold metal leave his neck. The human sat up, cold eyes going far away again. Asgore smiled wearily.

"Not killing me today old friend?"

Aster's sharp eyes dropped to the king. Something writhed behind the human’s mask of indifference. Something Asgore recognized. After a moment, the human let out another breathy laugh and stood, stepping off the king.

"Men don't kill with knives anymore, Devil" the human mused. "We kill with words."

All at once the magic was gone. The force holding Asgore down vanished. Asgore took a moment just to breathe before he too rose. The pair stared at one another as the implication sank in.

They were at an impasse. Asgore had been ready to die. After everything he'd lost. Everything he'd seen--he almost welcomed it. Perhaps his death would have been enough to satisfy the old mage. Maybe it would have been enough. But no.  It seemed that the human was not ready to kill him. He had something more in mind--as always.

Asgore's pocket vibrated drawing two pairs of eyes. Aster bit his lip, turning away to wipe the blood from the knife.The king checked his phone. Two missed calls and a text from Alphys.

*CHARLOTTE IS HERE! CALL ME!!!

The panic flashed across Asgore's face before he could hide it. The kingly mask of pride blanched, breaking as the memory of Frisk’s lifeless body filled his mind. Asgore swallowed thickly. Was this an option one scenario or an option two? Had Aster intended to protect Asgore’s daughter and others like her? Or had he--

"Bad news?" Aster asked. Asgore lifted his gaze to find the man smiling up at him hands in his pockets. Aster couldn’t find out about her. Not ever. Asgore couldn’t bury another.  He couldn’t. The king squared his shoulders slipping the phone into his pocket.

"FarmVille."  He stated evenly. The humans smile widened. He patted Asgore’s arm.

"I suppose I’ll see you at the peace summit Devil." He mused, turning to leave. “Until next time then.”

Asgore watched the man brush himself off and step out of the room. The king heard Aster whistling a merry tune all the way down the hall, until he was gone. Asgore stood there for a full minute trying to calm his breathing. Then slowly, he brought out his phone and pressed redial.  

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: Chara and the King

Charlotte took stock of her situation. She was sitting in a high tech military laboratory next to a stygmoloch in a lab coat. She was there because she’d had a seizure and bashed her head and side repeatedly into the ground while a US senator tried to hold her steady and talk her through it. She was dizzy and her head throbbed so badly she was sure she had a mild concussion. To top it all off, the back of her rats nest hair was sticky with a mixture of sweat, blood and blue raspberry Popsicle.

Yet despite all the impossible events that had brought her to this point, there was one her hazy mind couldn’t seem to parse. A single, dismal fact that left her heart hammering with trepidation.

Asgore knew she was there.

Red had gone. Despite all her venom and talk, she always seemed to disappear when she knew Asgore was around.  She would slip off to some remote little corner of Charlotte’s consciousness. With the exception of that one instance when she’d attacked him, Red avoided any mention of him like the plague. And no amount of calling or coaxing would make her come out. Charlotte was numb. Did that mean Red was afraid too?

Charlotte stared at the heavy lab doors, head swimming. He could walk in at any moment. Just step through those doors and be suddenly overwhelmingly there. Charlotte twisted the hem of her shirt, wringing it between her hands. How was she supposed to feel about this? She had already made up her mind that she would try and meet with the king again. But…

The memory of Asgore ripping apart the room in search of her rose to the forefront of her mind. Charlotte felt a sudden urge to vomit, her knees beginning to knock together. The urge to run. Would Alphys try and stop if she just took off? Was she even allowed to leave anymore? Was she a prisoner?

Charlotte cast a nervous glance towards the doctor. Alphys was still standing in the doorway, clawed hands wringing nervously as she met the human’s gaze. She seemed to be at a loss for what to do or say at this point so she smiled uncomfortably. Charlotte swallowed down the wave of nausea.

Calm down. This is what you wanted isn’t it?

Isn’t it…?

No time. She had no time. Asgore could walk in on her at any moment. Charlotte realized that she had to make up her mind fast. The human shoved down her fears and tried to think logically about the situation. This wasn’t like before. Several people—including Jack— knew where she was. She hadn’t snuck in under false pretenses this time around; she’d been brought here. Safe. Invited. She had accepted the hospitality of one of the royal guards.

No sneaking. No deception. And several credible sources who would speak up if she went missing. Charlotte wrapped herself around with these reassurances. Everything was going to be okay. If there was ever a safer more appropriate time to meet with the king it was now. There were fewer risks. Fewer ways this could all go south. Logically speaking, the conditions where ideal for what she wanted to do.  But even so…

Was she really ready to see him? Did she have the courage to meet him again? Even under these less frightening circumstances? Charlotte realized that her answer depended completely on which Asgore she’d have to meet.


It was strange. Charlotte felt like there were multiple versions of the king—each one’s personality and behavior unique and almost contradictory to one another. She knew this was silly. She knew there was only one Asgore. The real problem was that Charlotte did not know which one was really him. Technically they were all him. Or rather, different parts of him. Different facets of what made Asgore—Asgore. The human that she really didn’t know him at all. Did she?

So what kind of man would be coming for her? Which one did she need to believe in?

There was Asgore the murderer.  Asgore the madman. The roaring towering nightmare that had nearly impaled her on his trident. That Asgore terrified her. He had sacrificed six (possibly seven) children in order to free his people from bondage. Did the ends justify the means? Charlotte felt sick even considering it. To even think for a moment that some greater good could validate hurting an innocent child. No. The king was a veritable powerhouse of violent rage. One that could have snuffed out Charlotte’s life as easily as crushing a bug. And with his apparent sense of morality, the morality that justified such horrors—would he even think twice about eliminating her if she proved to be a threat?

This was the version of Asgore that would do anything get what he wanted. A man Charlotte could easily see declaring war on humanity—and winning.  He was the monster everyone feared he was. Some kind of ancient devil that had been unleashed on an unsuspecting world. Now it seemed he was just biding his time before the strike. And his current impotency—his inexplicable submission, felt little more than a ticking bomb that could go off the moment it no longer served his purpose. 

This was the Asgore that Charlotte met that afternoon in the library. And Charlotte never ever wanted to see that man again.

But then there was another Asgore, a kinder softer version. The one she met that night on the street. He was a grave, soft-spoken monster of few words. The Asgore that had bid her to feel welcome and comfortable among his people. Detached kindness—that’s what it was. A well-meant tolerance of her kind’s existence and a desire to keep the peace.  He was kind yes—not because that’s how he actually felt but because that’s how he thought he was supposed to behave. Social niceties. Obligation. That’s how he regarded humans. They were something to be handled delicately and held at arm’s length. And from the way humans had treated his kind—Charlotte felt like his attitude was far more forgiving than perhaps they deserved. She feared this Asgore less, because she felt she could understand and sympathize with him a little more. He didn’t seem particularly good. But he wasn’t necessarily bad either. He just—was.  The king was unassuming. Compliant. Willing to bend over backwards to keep the peace with a people that neither trusted nor appreciated his humility. He was the sad Asgore—the one Charlotte felt sorry for.

Then there was the quiet Asgore. The hungry Asgore. This was the one that wanted to touch her. That gaping, staring, pouncing, grabbing, enigma that knew her name. And apparently stalked her now.  This was the Asgore that for whatever reason wanted something from her.  Charlotte didn’t know how to feel about this one. How could something so powerful and terrifying be so vulnerable and fragile at the same time? His behavior was erratic—confusing. And it made the human uneasy. Mostly because he elicited both terror and sympathy simultaneously.  She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to run from him or run to him. All of her instincts of self-preservation screamed predator. Dangerous. Keep away. Charlotte didn’t know what made the king desire her with such intensity. He didn’t even know her. But the rational part of her brain insisted that it could not be for anything good.

But there was something else. Charlotte had always been three parts emotion and only one part brain so to speak. She was always more likely to follow her intuition rather than what logically made sense. And that emotional side of her, the instinctive part of her that trusted easily, and loved much too deeply, told her that this was more than just spite. It told her that she should trust the king. That somehow Asgore needed her trust. Despite the fact that such a thing was ridiculous. She was a stranger. Why should the way one small inconsequential human felt about him be so important? She was nobody. There were literally millions of other people just like her dotting the globe. Some of them sympathized with him. Some hated him. Some didn’t know what to think. So why did how she felt matter at all to him? Why would he need her kindness? Her sympathy? She was nothing. Her opinions didn’t matter one way or another.

But the feeling didn’t go away. The feeling that she had to come back. To let him know that everything was going to be okay. To tell him that she didn’t hate him. She understood this part of him the least. But she knew that she would never be satisfied until she found out why.

That should have been it. Those were all the sides of Asgore Charlotte had seen. Everything she knew of him.

 And yet…

There was something else.

Every night since her run in with Asgore, the human had been plagued with nightmares. Horrible dreams of being trapped in that library again, as the king raged after her. There were nightmares of sans coming back for her. Abducting her.—of having her soul ripped out of her chest and devoured before her eyes by a sinister grinning skull. There were times she woke up in a cold sweat, convinced there was someone in the room with her. That Sans had just appeared in that way of his and had changed his mind about letting her live. But he never was. She’d had nightmares of what she thought would happen when Asgore finally did track her down. When he finally had her where right where he wanted her.

But every time this happened. Every time he caught her up in those powerful paws—the dream would shift. And in an instant, he would change. Suddenly, they were somewhere else. Somewhere unfamiliar. And the king wouldn’t be the king anymore. He would become something new. A person she’d never met in reality, and had no reason to believe existed at all. 

This imaginary Asgore wasn’t seething with concealed anger. He wasn’t that quiet, grave presence full of sighs and unspoken regret.

He was warm. Affectionate. Inviting. He would chuckle and squeeze her as if everything she said was absolutely adorable. He would catch her up in his arms and spin her around. He would tease her, tickle her, let her yank on his beard, all the while grinning with twinkling eyes. Real mirth. Genuine kindness. Not that detached melancholy brand kindness he’d displayed that night on the street.  This was deeper than that. Joyful. As if centuries—entire lifetimes of happiness were condensed into every moment he spent with her.

And for whatever reason Charlotte wasn’t afraid. She would boss him around, throw little fits and sometimes even take a swing at him. But she never worried that her brashness would anger him. Anger simply wasn’t in his nature. Charlotte adored him, idolized everything he said and did. She wanted to stay with him, with a longing and intensity she’d never felt for anyone or anything. She wanted to…save him? From what?  The king wasn’t in any danger.

 The dreams made no sense. And the intense adoration she felt during them troubled her. He’d never done anything to merit such hero worship. All he’d done was frighten her and almost hurt her. Was she losing her mind? Did she have Stockholm syndrome?

Perhaps that was it.  She never felt that way about him when she was awake. In fact she always awoke filled with an inexplicable sense of bitterness. A cold cynicism towards everyone and everything— especially the king. Why did she feel this way? The sensation would pass after a few moments, but Charlotte could still feel that distant ache. The feeling that she had been betrayed; had been robbed of something important.

The Asgore in her dreams didn’t exist. She knew that.  She knew it was likely her screwed up brain short circuiting. Some kind of psychological nonsense she wouldn’t understand.  But the imaginary Asgore felt just as real as any other persona she’d come to associate with the king. And part of her still expected to see that same man step through the door.

Bollocks.

She was a friggin basket case. Wasn’t she?


Which version of the king was real? Which would she have to face in the end?

“U-um… Do you still want me to...w-well—“

The voice startled Charlotte from her reverie and she spun. Alphys was still standing there. Bollocks. How had she forgotten about her? She’d been so focused inward she hadn’t even noticed how anxious her silence was making the timid doctor. The doctor stood a foot or so away, a hand raised hesitantly—almost close enough to pat her on the back. She looked to be at just as much of a loss for words as Charlotte felt. Charlotte took a deep breath, focusing in on the matter at hand.

"Is Asgore…Is he on his way here now?" Charlotte asked.  Alphys shook her head quickly, shoulders coming up.

"H-he said he had a meeting. Couldn’t get away.” 

Charlotte ran a hand through her sticky hair, wincing at flecks of dried blood the action shook free. She felt a small wave of relief. He wasn’t coming. At least not right then he wasn’t. Charlotte gnawed on her lower lip. This was…good—right? It meant she had time to think. Time to make up her mind before she had to face him. She could figure this out. Charlotte eyed the doctor.

"Can you please- could you tell me what he said to you? When you told him about me." Charlotte asked meekly. Alphys sucked in her cheeks. She moaned.

"I am so fired for this..."

 Charlotte’s head came up. Alphys wasn’t supposed to tell her that Asgore knew she was there, and she clearly wasn’t supposed to reveal that they’d been researching her either. But thanks to her snooping Charlotte had riddled it out anyway. Charlotte’s heart sank. Had her stubbornness just cost this poor monster her livelihood? Would she be in trouble for even talking to her about this? Charlotte opened her mouth, an apology already forming on her tongue, but the doctor spoke again, and the human fell silent.  

"I called him— told him that you had been injured and that one of the guards had brought you up for medical care." Alphys sighed, sinking into a chair near Charlotte’s. “He was…well, really upset…” she admitted.  A cold hand of fear squeezed around charlottes heart and she thought she might faint. Upset. He was upset with her.

“What did he tell you to do with me?” Charlotte muttered. She knew that if it was something particularly bad, the doctor probably wouldn’t tell her. And well, if it was something bad—Charlotte wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know.  The doctor rubbed her temples, waving a dismissive hand.

"He didn’t say all that much... He just said to treat you. You know attend to all of your medical needs and to call him if there was any change.” Alphys shrugged. "He also told me that if you asked for anything, I should see to it that you got it." Charlotte frowned.

"That's…. all?"

"That's all."

The human stared. That made no sense. He was clearly upset with her, but he still insisted that she get medical attention? Not only that but he'd made sure to specify that she should be denied nothing.

What did that mean?

Was this some kind of ploy? Take care of her and keep her happy so she doesn’t realize that she’s not allowed to leave? That she’s a prisoner? That didn’t seem right either. If they wanted to arrest her, they could have just done it couldn’t they? The king had more than enough evidence against her to do it. Why would he need to keep her happy? Charlotte chewed her lower lip.