Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It has become tradition that, every year, the captain of the royal guard holds a big party around Gyftmas time. All the guards, sentries, and their families are invited to swap presents and stories, to celebrate the approaching end of the year. Many other monsters not affiliated with the guard drop off presents ahead of time, gifts to express their gratitude for all the hard work these monsters do to keep them safe.

The theme of the party varies from year to year. When Undyne first became captain, she half-jokingly designed a nautically themed party. She has strived to make each year markedly different from the previous. Last year had been anime-themed, and Alphys helped her make sure everything was as historically accurate as possible. This year’s theme is a costume party, mainly because Undyne is curious to see what everyone will choose to dress up as.

Ever since the MTT Resort was built, they’ve taken to renting out a floor of the complex for the party. Undyne personally prefers the old field they used to use in Waterfall—though some complained about the marshy footing and the humidity—but since Asgore foots the bill, he’s the one who gets the final say on the location.

Thus Undyne finds herself shoving her way into an elevator crammed full of other partygoers. Dogamy and Dogaressa are wedged in beside her.

Undyne arches an eyebrow at them. “You know you were supposed to dress up, right?”

To her surprise, Dogamy titters at her. “You see, hubby? I told you it would work!”

Dogaressa leans in for a quick nuzzle. “Quite right, my sweet.”

A lightbulb flicks on in Undyne’s brain. “You’re dressed as each other.”

“Correct!” Dogaressa—the real Dogaressa—confirms. Upon closer scrutiny, Undyne can see the fake thick eyebrows (rectangles of black construction paper) taped onto her real ones.

The Dogi crouch down slightly, sniffing her.

“And what are you, captain?” Asks Dogaressa.

Dogamy takes a big whiff by the top of Undyne’s head. “Smells like…instant noodles?”

“Alphys helped sew the lettering on on the back.” Undyne twists as well as she’s able in the cramped space, showing off the back of her orange gi. “You like it?”

The two dogs bark in the affirmative—even though they clearly do not understand who she’s dressed as—as the elevator doors open. As they walk down the hall, the sounds of the party permeate the walls.

When Undyne reaches the door she kicks it open; the door’s rebound off the wall has several heads turning. Members of the guard near the door give a short cheer at her arrival, raising their cups of punch in greeting.

Everything in the room is MTT themed, the boxy robot plastered everywhere, from the wallpaper to the chandeliers. Music thumps in the background, but not so loudly that the gathered monsters can’t hear each other speak.

The Dogi move towards the buffet table, undoubtedly in search of dog treats, leaving Undyne alone to mingle. She snags some punch for herself and meanders through the crowd, taking some time to just observe. Undyne sips at her drink and smirks—the party has barely begun, and someone has already spiked the punch. Leave it to her guard.

“Undyne!” A loud voice cuts through the general chatter. She turns to see Papyrus moving through the swarm of monsters to reach her. She takes in his costume: clunky red snow boots, blue briefs cinched to his skeletal frame by a golden belt, scrap metal spray-painted white and bent into the shape of a breastplate, topped off with the tattered red scarf he always seemed to be wearing. Undyne can’t help it—despite herself, she bursts out laughing.

“What are you even wearing, you dweeb?”

As usual, Papyrus turns a deaf ear to her ribbing tone. He strikes a dramatic pose, one she saw Mettaton do on one of his shows last week.

“Ah, Undyne. You cannot help but be confounded by my brand new battle body!”

“Battle…body?” She parrots, incredulous.

“I know you are jealous that you did not think of such an amazing costume yourself. Instead, you were left with no ideas save for an outfit from your dumb baby shows.”

Undyne lets the insults to her beloved anime go without comment. She does not know why, but Papyrus has convinced himself that anime is awful without ever actually giving it a chance.

“I think this will be the armor I wear when I become a royal guard.” Declares Papyrus. Undyne’s lips quirk upwards with mirth as Papyrus uses a miniscule amount of magic to make his scarf flap majestically.

Undyne sets her drink on a nearby table and then slings an arm around Papyrus’ shoulders, and noogies the crown of his skull with her free hand.

“You are such a dork!” She’s in too good a mood to feel guilty right now. In fact, she’s feeling charitable, even optimistic. Who knows—maybe one day he will get into the royal guard. Somehow.

Papyrus flails in her grip.

“Do not noogie the skeleton!”

She releases him with a laugh, and Papyrus diligently straightens out his battle body again.

“Sans actually worked very hard for once in his life to help me with my outfit.” A sudden thought dawns on him. “Oh my goodness—we’ve been dear companions all this time, and you’ve never even met my brother, have you?”

It’s true. Papyrus usually comes over to her house to train and cook, and the few times she’s visited him in Snowdin, his brother is either at Grillby’s or locked in his room.

“This cannot do!” Papyrus grabs her hand in a strong grip and leads her through the crowd to a corner of the room. “To not even meet one of my super cool friends—that is a new level of laziness, even for him!”

Undyne is brought before the hulking form of Greater Dog and a skeleton who can only be Sans. He looks somewhat as she’s expected—Papyrus has gone on at length about his brother. Multiple times. Sans is a squat skeleton. His choice of slippers, loose gym shorts, and an overly-large hoodie suggest his lazy nature. A pair of Groucho Glasses are on his face, the arms attached to his skull with bits of tape.

“Sans!” Exclaims Papyrus.

“Sup, bro?”

Papyrus gestures to his captain. “This is Undyne!”

The lights in Sans’ eye sockets slide over to Undyne. His perpetual grin somewhat unnerves her.

“Ah. Sup, Undyne?”

“Nice to finally meet you, Sans.” She extends her hand out for a shake. She’s still marveling over how different Sans is from Papyrus—the latter is fit to bursting with energy and enthusiasm, while the former doesn’t feel like he could be bothered to get a pizza that has been delivered to the door.

Sans’ eyes glimmer as he shakes her hand. A sharp buzzing sensation erupts on her palm, and she yanks her hand back. In Sans’ skeletal palm is a hand buzzer.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you.”         

“Ugh, Sans!” Papyrus shoves himself between them and turns to Undyne, apologetic. “Please excuse my brother. He thinks the best way to make friends is through silly pranks.”

Sans shrugs, not denying it.

After a bit more banter, they leave Sans to his conversation with Greater Dog, and circle around to the buffet table. Undyne watches with amusement as Papyrus picks the MTT toothpick garnishes off of the sandwiches and stows them away.

“Oh my god, dude, really?”

“What?” Papyrus looks affronted. “They will add another star to my already five-star meals.”

Undyne rolls her eyes. She loads up a plate full of carbs and sugar, letting loose for the day. Papyrus, on the other hand, primly pulls pineapple chunks from the array around a chocolate fountain, returning ones that have so much as a speck of chocolate on them.

Before they leave the table, she sees him sneak a few MTT-brand napkins into his pocket as well.

They walk around the room for a time, chatting with different monsters. Papyrus rarely strays from her side; he’s not yet as popular as he wishes to be. They enjoy their snacks and discard their plates in one of the overflowing trashcans. Papyrus gets a gleam in his eye that suggests he wants to clean, so Undyne quickly steers him away from the garbage.

“Oh, before I forget—” Undyne fishes around in her pocket and pulls out an envelope. She hands it to Papyrus. “This is for you; an early Gyftmas present.”

“For me? Wowie!” Eyes sparkling with glee, Papyrus opens up the envelope. Two tickets to Mettaton’s Cooking with a Killer Robot show are inside. Papyrus gasps softly, cradling the two slips of pink paper with reverence. He then squeals loud and high enough that only the dog monsters turn their heads towards him.

“I figured your brother might want to go too? So I got tickets for the both of you—”

“Thank you!” Papyrus launches himself at her, squeezing her in a tight hug. “Thank you, I love it.”

Undyne hugs him back, hard enough that the breastplate of his battle body creaks a little.

Papyrus separates from her.

“Wait, wait, I need to give you your present too.”

The skeleton reaches a hand under his breastplate, producing a small wrapped package.

“The coolest gift, for the coolest friend!” He beams at her. Undyne is always baffled by his ability to be so self-involved and loving of others in the same breath.

Undyne shreds the wrapping easily with her pointed claws. It’s a Mew Mew Kissy Cutie figurine. Papyrus must have found it in the dump—the plastic circles of her eyes are curling slightly, but the paint job is superbly done, bordering on manic. Papyrus must have repainted the figure himself. One of its arms seems to have broken off, but the arm from a robot toy has been glued on to replace the missing limb. It’s a true labor of love.

“God, Paps—this is awesome!”

“You like it? I just knew you would!”

Undyne slips the figure into her pocket carefully.

“Now let’s grab a drink! All these sappy emotions are making me thirsty.” And she’s long since lost track of her initial cup of punch.

Papyrus heads for the buffet table.

“I’ll get us some punch!” He says. Too late, Undyne realizes what she’s done.

“Wait—don’t drink the punch, Papyrus!”

“Papyrus is a grown bones! He does what he wants!”

Papyrus turns out to be a happy drunk, and soon stumbles his way onto the dance floor with several other monsters, all in various stages of inebriation at this point. Undyne watches from the sidelines as Papyrus tries to imitate Mettaton’s infamous, twitchy dance moves. Other monsters give him a wide berth as his gangly limbs start flailing all over the place. Undyne films the whole thing on her phone—though Papyrus cannot be touched by embarrassment, it’ll make her laugh, regardless.

“Looks like he’s having fun.” A voice comes from her side. Undyne looks over—Sans has joined her in watching Papyrus “dance”.

“Yeah. It’s good for the big guy to loosen up every now and then and think about something other than being a guard, you know?” Undyne blames the punch for the way she chatters on.

Sans glances up at her, eyes sharp beneath the goofy frames of his glasses.

“Papyrus is strong. But he’ll never hurt someone else if he thinks there’s another solution.” Oh God. Undyne is neither too drunk nor too sober for this conversation.

“I know.” His kind-hearted nature alone has prevented Undyne from swearing him into the guard. No members of the guard are unnecessarily cruel, but they will take forcible action when the situation calls for it. Papyrus always wants to talk everything out. “But I can’t seem to just tell him no.”

Papyrus would be crushed. What kind of great hero of the Underground would she be, if she made one of her closest friends cry? She keeps meaning to tell him, but tomorrow becomes a week, next month, after Gyftmas. She can’t bring herself to do it.

A salsa tune starts up. A few more Hotland monsters jump in to dance. Papyrus is a surprisingly good salsa dancer.

“Papyrus has really brightened up since you started training him. Thanks, for that.” Sans’ gaze cuts back to his brother. “We all need something to want.”

“What about you? What do you want?” Undyne blurts. Papyrus is an open book, while Sans seems to be a coded message.

“That’s easy enough.” Sans whistles as Papyrus pulls off a difficult dance move, made more impressive by his drunken state. “I just want him to be happy.”

~*~

Undyne oh-so graciously gives Papyrus a few days to sleep off any lingering effects of the party and to get back into his sentry routines before she calls him to come in for training the following day. Papyrus is ecstatic over the line, declaring he has a new spaghetti-making technique that will blow her mind.

Undyne waits for their meeting time—10 a.m. sharp—by playing a few songs on her piano. It had been salvaged from the dump some years ago; some keys are out of tune, and others stick down when pressed, but it carries a tune well enough. She becomes lost in her music, and when she glances up at the clock again she’s alarmed to see that it’s already 11:30.

Where’s Papyrus? He’s never late.

Undyne walks over to her door. Perhaps he heard her playing, and didn’t want to interrupt. That would be just like him—

But when she opens the door, there’s no friendly skeleton waiting outside to be let in.

Frowning, Undyne dials Papyrus’ number on her phone. The call rings and rings and rings, until she hears Papyrus’ voicemail message for the first time.

“Nyeh heh heh! The Great Papyrus has important, heroic, guardsman-like errands to attend to at the moment. Leave a message!”

The phone beeps, and Undyne fumbles out a message. “Uh, Paps—you didn’t come to practice today. Did you forget, you bonehead? Call me back!”

Undyne hangs up. Her insides feel cold. Papyrus always answers his phone. She’s about to call again when her phone buzzes.

“Papyrus?” She shouts.

“O-Oh, um, n-no, it’s—it’s Alphys.” Undyne hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID before she picked up.

“What’s up, Alph?” It’s odd that she’s calling. Alphys hates speaking over the phone, much preferring to text. And her urgent tone puts Undyne on high alert.

“H-Have you heard the news?”

“What news?”

“T-There’s a human, they—they came from the R-Ruins—”

Undyne nearly crushes her cellphone in her hand.

“Where are they now?” Alphys takes a moment too long to answer. “Alphys, where are they—”

“They—They’re almost through Snowdin n-n-now! But Un-Undyne, you, you have to wait—!”

Undyne hangs up. She rushes back inside, fastening her armor on in record time. It would be faster to slough it all off, to swim through the deeper marshes, but she needs all the defense she can get.

Undyne sets off through Waterfall at a quick jog, armor shifting and creaking with every plodding step. She’ll get there in time. The guards have probably captured the human already. That’s why Papyrus didn’t respond to her call—he’s occupied with the human. Everything is fine.

Undyne is so focused on running forward that she nearly trips over a temmie by her feet.

Undyne stops a moment, crouching by the vibrating temmie.

“Are you alright?”

“Tem iz fine.”

The temmie clan have an odd dialect, but Undyne has long since grown used to it.

“Listen to me. I need you to tell everyone to stay in their homes today. There’s a human in the Underground.”

The small monster’s eyes bug out.

“Hooman?”

“You need to let everyone know it’s not safe to be outside.” Undyne presses. “Please.”

The temmie stands at attention. “Tem make U prouds!”

The temmie scampers off through the reeds to warn other monsters. Undyne can only hope her authority as captain will deter those curious enough to risk seeing the human up close and personal.

By the time Undyne reaches the edge of Snowdin she is panting for breath, skin slimy with sweat beneath her armor.

She’s about to cross over into Snowdin when she gets another phone call—from Alphys, again.

“What?” She snaps out.

“Th-The human has already left Snowdin—”

“What? How?”

“They m-must’ve slipped by you. I save them p-pass by one of the cameras I h-had in a waterfall.”

“Shit. And where are they now?”

“I-I’m not sure.” Undyne actually growls in frustration, and Alphys is quick to add: “They keep m-moving in and out of m-my cameras’ ranges. But—But I know they’re in Waterfall. For sure.”

“I’ll keep looking.” Says Undyne. “Call me if you notice anything else.”

She hangs up, and is about to put her phone away when she stops short. She dials Papyrus’ number again. It rings and rings.

“Nyeh heh heh! Papyrus must be—”

Undyne hangs up. All the clues are pointing towards a reality she does not want to face.

There’s a sudden rustling in the nearby sea grass. Undyne summons a spear to illuminate the area, but the grass is still, silent. Nothing, then.

Undyne lets the spear dissipate and starts moving back, deeper into Waterfall. She needs to find the human before they have the chance to hurt anyone else.

~*~

After an exhausting chase, at last she has the human cornered in the cavern that leads to Hotland. Monster Kid is on his way back to his no-doubt anxious parents; the human can’t use him as their shield any longer.

Undyne takes a deep breath. This is the moment she has trained for her entire life. Her hair whips in the howling wind. She had removed her helmet during the chase; it impeded the range of her sight too much.

“Seven. Seven human souls, and King Asgore will become a god. Six. That’s how many we have collected thus far. Understand? Through your seventh and final soul, this world will be transformed.”

The rest of her thoroughly planned and practiced speech dries up in her mind. The human has a small toy knife in their hands. Undyne can’t tell from this high up if dust clings to it or not. But in her heart, she knows it’s been used.

“…Just forget it. Look. Papyrus didn’t come to his meeting today. Say what you want about him. He’s weird, he’s naïve, he’s self-absorbed—but Papyrus has never missed a meeting. And no matter what time you call him on the phone—night, day, afternoon, morning—he always answers within the first two rings.” She stares down at the human. “What did you do to him?”

The human simply stares back up at her, eyes flat discs of apathy.

“What did you do to him?” She roars.

Again, there’s no response. Undyne points a spear at her enemy.

“Prepare however you want. But when you step forward, I will kill you.”

The human reaffirms their grip on their knife, and takes that single step forward.

Undyne jumps down to land before them, legs jarred only slightly by the jump. She rises from her crouch to her full height. She towers over the human, in her gleaming black armor. She should inspire fear. And yet, the human’s face remains an impassive mask.

It’s really getting on her nerves.

Undyne pulls the human into battle and wastes no time in turning their soul green. In a normal duel, she would take the time to explain her magic’s effects on the soul to someone unfamiliar. Undyne’s teeth grind together. The human doesn’t deserve even this small mercy.

A flicker of surprise crosses the human’s face as they realize their movements have been restricted. Undyne throws a volley of spears at them. The human narrowly dodges most of them, but one attack lands, embedding itself in the human’s shoulder.

The human hisses in pain. They grab the shaft of the spear and roughly yank it free. Blood trickles down their arm to splatter on the cavern floor.

Undyne throws another wave of magic at them, but to her frustration, the human uses the spear they were struck with to block the barrage of attacks.

“Think you’re clever, do you?” Undyne snarls. “All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable.”

The human grits their teeth, hunching in on themselves. Then, they surge towards Undyne with surprising speed, the green magic placed on their soul nearly swallowed up by a blazing red.

Taken by surprise, the human gets in one slice across the breastplate of her armor. She staggers back from the human, pushing a hand to the seeping wound. This one attack, by a small plastic knife, has gouged a line through her armor, has stripped away a chunk of her HP. What the hell even are humans?

With the injury, Undyne’s hold over the human dissolves. They take this opportunity to try to escape, spinning on their heel and running back the way they came from.

“Hey! Get back here!” Undyne charges towards their retreating form. “Come back and fight, coward!”

Undyne launches spears at the human’s feet, but they nimbly dance around the magical weapons.

Undyne finally catches up to them halfway across the bridge. The bridge sways with their combined weight, but holds. The human turns around, brandishing the knife, but Undyne will not be intimidated.

“You think I’d let you just walk away after what you’ve done?”

The human says nothing as Undyne attacks once again. With so little room to dodge, several of the energy spears graze the human’s flesh, drawing thin lines of blood.

Then the human darts forward and sinks their knife into the meat of Undyne’s thigh, with enough force behind it that the plastic handle snaps off in their hand.

Undyne buckles under the burst of pain. Blood dribbles down her leg as she tries to prize the knife out.

The child steps around her, running back towards the edge of Waterfall. Undyne reaches out, snatching at the human’s ankles, but just barely missing them. She flings forth her green magic, but the human is too swift, already out of range.

“Come back here!” Undyne starts to drag herself towards the human, leaving smears of blood over the planks of wood. “Human! I’ll…I’ll…”

She trails off as she sees what they’re about to do. Their small hands are prying up one of the stakes that keeps the bridge in place.

“Don’t…!”

The human smiles fiendishly.

“You idiot.”

The human yanks out the supports. Undyne scrambles to hold on as the bridge slips sideways. Several planks tumble off into the chasm below. Undyne herself clings to the trembling rope that only tenuously holds her weight. Undyne watches helplessly as the human rips out the other support.

“Goodbye.” They say, as Undyne starts to fall.

Undyne struggles to form magic to act as a cushion, to slow her down, to do something, but her magic is too sluggish to respond, impeded by the haze of pain and panic. She hurtles down, down, down, the human’s face disappearing from view—

~*~

Undyne cracks open her eyes. A reedy whine is all her bruised lungs can manage. Gingerly, she sits up. Undyne cranes her neck upwards, and only the faintest spot of light shines down from above. How far has she fallen?

Undyne reaches into her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. The screen has cracks spiderwebbing out across it, but it’s still functional, glowing weakly up at her. She nearly weeps with relief.

She uses the feeble glow of the phone to check over her body. Her armor is ruined, only barely holding together. Undyne regretfully shimmies out of it, leaving her in only an undershirt and shorts. She inspects the wound in her thigh. The toy knife is still lodged inside. She pulls at the edge of the injured skin, about to pull it out, but reconsiders. She’ll probably have to climb her way back out of here. That will be hard enough as she is now; the difficulty would be compounded if she was bleeding heavily from her leg as well. Best to leave it, for now.

Undyne tears a strip of cloth from the bottom of her shirt and ties it around the wound. She grimaces. There’s a good chance she’ll get an infection from this. Who knows how long she’s been lying in this murky water. Wait—how long has she been down here?

Undyne checks her phone.

“Fuck,” She croaks out. She’s been down here for almost five hours. And the human is up there, running loose, doing god knows what.

Undyne has innumerable missed calls and messages from Alphys. Undyne calls her; the other monster picks up almost immediately.

“OhmygodUndyne!” Alphys doesn’t pause to so much as breathe. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Well—” She glances down at her battered body, her mangled armor. “—fine enough.”

“Thank god,” Alphys gasps, and Undyne’s soul twists as she hears the lizard monster stifle her sobs. “I thought—I thought—”

“Alphys, I’m okay. I’m fine.” Undyne assures her. “Now tell me about the human. Tell me about you. Are you safe?”’

“I e-evacuated everyone in Hotland. The guards refused t-to leave, though. They wanted to f-f-fight for you.”

“Damn it, those guys…” Undyne stares up, towards the patch of light. “I’m going to kill that human.”

“Undyne, please don’t. You won’t be able to fight in Hotland, I—I don’t want you to get hurt any more!”

“Al, it’s me.” She infuses her voice with confidence she doesn’t feel. “I’ll be fine.”

“Undyne…”

“I’ll see you later. Stay safe.”

Undyne hangs up. She tucks her phone into her pocket, but keeps the light on to give her a little something to work with. She hobbles over to the nearest wall. The rock shelf has been eroded by time and water. There are enough uneven breaks and cracks for her to be able to climb up.

A flicker of doubt passes through her. She couldn’t stand a chance against the human at full strength. What hope could she possibly have against them now?

Undyne smacks herself across the face. Get it together, Undyne! She’s Undyne! She’s the hero of the Underground! She has no limit to what she’s capable of!

Pulling from a newfound well of willpower, Undyne places her hands and feet into small footholds and begins her laborious climb. Every slight shift of her limbs is a new agony, as her injured and sore body protests the movement. She just grits her teeth and powers through the pain.

During the climb up here are a few dicey moments, where one or both of her feet lose purchase on the craggy rock, but she manages to keep her hold on the wall and not fall again.

At last, she heaves herself back up to the top.

Undyne lays there for a moment, panting for breath, her overworked muscles twitching and trembling. Her whole body is slick with sweat, and the wound on her chest has reopened, trickling a small but steady stream. Thank god she’s on the right side of the chasm; if she had to go the long way around to reach Hotland, she might miss the human. Hell, she might not retain the strength to pursue them.

Undyne allows herself a moment more to recuperate, then staggers upright. She plumbs the depths of her magic reserve to make a spear. She leans her weight heavily upon it, and limps her way towards Hotland.

She makes her way through the connecting cavern, and grimaces as a wave of heat rolls over her. Undyne presses on, squinting as she stumbles into the brightness of Hotland proper. Too bright, too warm. Papyrus always complains about the conveyer belts—

Complained. Past tense.

Undyne tightens her grip on her spear. She continues on. The magma below belches forth heat and the acrid fumes of sulfur. Her skin is starting to dry out. She doesn’t care.

Undyne catches a hint of movement, just up ahead. Is that them?

“Human!” She bellows.

Undyne begins pursuit, but her body has had enough. She starts to list to the side, leaning more and more heavily on the spear. The weak summoned magic can’t maintain itself any longer. It gives out, and with her support gone, Undyne crumples to the ground.

Tears of bitter frustration sting her eyes. Is this really all she can do?

Undyne struggles to continue forward, but sinks into unconsciousness once more.

~*~

When Undyne awakens again, it’s to the faint whirs and beeps of machinery. She rubs at her eyelids, crusted over from a long sleep. She’s got a minty-green hospital gown on, an IV drip connected to her soul. Undyne pulls up the sheet, revealing the leg that had been stabbed. It’s bound in thick bandages; she assumes the knife has been removed. Beneath is probably another scar to add to the collection.

There’s a huddled form by the foot of her bed.

“Alphys…?” Undyne whispers, hoarsely. It’s not enough to wake her up. Undyne lightly nudges her friend with her leg. Alphys jerks awake with a snort, automatically pushing up the glasses that slip down her nose. She perks up as she realizes Undyne is awake.

“Undyne!” She winces at the lizard monster’s volume, and Alphys lowers her voice instantly, a bashful blush spreading across her face. “How are you feeling?”

Undyne assess herself. She gives her legs an experimental flex. Aside from the rasping sandpaper feeling of her throat, she feels totally normal—maybe even better than normal.

“…Pretty good, actually.” Her voice still sounds like shit, though.

“O-Oh, give me a second!” Alphys bustles around the room, filling up a paper cup and handing it to her. Undyne sips gratefully at the cool water. “I’m g-glad you’re not in any pain. The doctors put you on a l-lot of drugs, and said you wouldn’t f-feel anything, but I wasn’t t-totally sure until you woke up, you know?”

Awareness of the situation at hand suddenly floods through Undyne, snapping her out of her pleasant, hazy state. She sets aside the cup and rounds on Alphys.

“What happened with the human?” Her voice is still a bit gravelly. Alphys fidgets. “Asgore got their soul, didn’t he?”

Alphys says nothing, her tail swishing anxiously behind her. She can’t meet Undyne’s gaze.

“Alphys.”

When she speaks, her voice is small and soft.

“D-Do I have to be the one to tell you?”

Undyne levels a near-desperate look at her, and Alphys crumbles.

“You’re i-in a hospital in N-New Home. Some guards, they, uh. Found you in Hotland a-and brought you here. You’ve been—you were sick, you were sleeping for almost f-five days now. I was so worried…” Alphys fiddles with the hospital blanket, an output for her nerves. “The human. They m-made it to Asgore, and they…” Alphys swallows. “Asgore is dead. The human killed him.”

Undyne sits, stunned. Then, a wavering cackle spills from her mouth. Alphys flinches back, alarmed.

“You shouldn’t joke like that.” Asgore, the king of all monsters, defeated by a little punk like that? No way.

But Alphys stares at her, sadly.

“Al, I’m serious. Knock it off.”

“I’m sorry, Undyne. I wish I could’ve done more.”

Undyne tries to stand, to go and check for herself, but bars of electricity crackle into being before her, blocking her way.

“It’s over, Undyne.” Alphys’ voice shakes. “There’s nothing you can do now.”

Undyne slumps back into the bed, head swimming. Once Alphys is sure Undyne is not going to try leaping out of bed again, she dissipates her magic.

Alphys gathers her courage and climbs into the bed with Undyne. She reaches out for a hug, and Undyne clings to her tightly, drawing comfort from the embrace.

In a little more than a week’s time, the very foundation of the Underground has been shaken to its core.

“The human….where are they now?”

“They took h-his soul and—and crossed the barrier. They’re gone.” Alphys nestles her head in the crook of Undyne’s neck. “The six s-souls are gone too. Some of the guards are o-out looking for Queen T-Toriel.”

“How did this happen?” How could one human trounce them so thoroughly? How could they defeat Asgore, the most powerful boss monster? How could they defeat her, when she dedicated her life to fighting humans? How could they defeat Papyrus, who probably didn’t even put up a fight? Sweet, gentle Papyrus. How could anyone hurt him?

A sudden, horrific thought dawns on her. Undyne pulls apart from Alphys slightly.

“Al, has anyone spoken to or seen Sans?”

“S-Sans? I don’t—I’m not sure.”

“Do you have his number?”

“Yes—here—” Alphys fumbles through her pockets until she locates her cellphone. She pulls up Sans’ contact information and hands it over.

Undyne listens to it ring. She knows how desperately important Papyrus is—was—to Sans. Let her not be too late. Let her do one god damn thing right.

The phone is picked up on the other end.

“Sans? Sans, is that you?”

Undyne hears a faint hitch of breath.

Chapter Text

Undyne waits, heart in her throat, for the monster on the other line to speak. Alphys huddles close, listening in.

After several seconds pass, Undyne impatiently prompts him again.

“Sans, it’s Undyne. Where are you right now?”

There’s a rustling sound on the other end of the line. Probably the fabric of his sweat jacket brushing against itself. She strains her ears. There’s no audible background noise; he’s not outside.

“Sans?”

The phone clicks.

“That son of a bitch.” Undyne growls as she redials his number.

“Did he say anything?”

“No. Just hung up on me.”

The phone cuts straight to voicemail. Sans has either shut his phone off, or it’s run out of battery. Undyne hands Alphys back her phone. Alphys is practically in her lap at this point, but hasn’t noticed, focused on the situation at hand. Her claws fly over the keyboard.

“I’m searching the Undernet now, to see if anyone’s mentioned Sans.”

“Um, do you mind—?”

Undyne gestures to their position. Alphys’ face goes tomato red, and she nearly gashes her head on the nearby chair in her haste to disentangle herself from Undyne.

“S-Sorry!”

“Jeez, Al, relax.” The press of Alphys’ body against her own had been rather soothing, actually, though she’ll say nothing. It took ages for Alphys to accept her as a friend. She had been unreasonably suspicious of Undyne, believing that her offer of friendship was just an elaborate ruse. If Alphys freaked out so much over friendship, god only knows how she’d be if Undyne approached her about a romantic relationship—if she was even interested, that is.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—” Undyne cuts herself off. If she starts scolding Alphys for apologizing, the lizard monster will start apologizing for apologizing, and they’ll just be stuck in an endless loop of awkwardness.

Alphys returns to her phone, and Undyne focuses on moving. She ever-so-slowly swings her legs around, letting her bare feet touch the cool tile. They’ve got her on some strong shit—her pain level is about the size of a whisper.

“There’s nothing, Undernet’s been dead—uh. No one’s posted about Sans.”

“Well, at least I’ve got a good idea of where to start.”

With a grunt, Undyne heaves herself upright. Her legs tremble, forcing her to lean back on the edge of the bed for support.

“You can’t go now! You’re still hurt!”

“Al, it’s my duty as a guardswoman to look out for other monsters. It’s my duty as a friend, too.”

“…You’re going to go no matter what, aren’t you?” Undyne shrugs, unrepentant. Alphys sighs. “Just let me get you something, first.”

She scurries out of the room; Undyne hears her chat lowly with a nurse in the hall. Alphys soon returns with a change of clothes for Undyne, something she must’ve fetched from her house while Undyne was convalescing. On top of the pile of clothes is a cane. Undyne eyes it distastefully.

“You want to get better, don’t you?” There’s a hint of exasperation in Alphys’ tone. “You can’t put too much pressure on your leg too soon.”

Grumbling under her breath, Undyne accepts the cane. As a temporary measure only. Alphys gives her privacy while she quickly dresses. Some tension releases from her shoulders as she smoothens out her leather jacket. She feels more like herself in her own clothes.

“Oh!” Alphys smacks her forehead as Undyne waves her back into the room. “I forgot to get you a new phone!”

“Don’t worry about it right now.” Undyne uses the cane for support as she stands. She hates to admit it, but it does ease the pressure off of her bad leg. The human really did a number on her.

“If I need to call you, I’ll just borrow a phone from someone in Snowdin.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

Undyne smiles gratefully, flashing rows of teeth.

“I’ll be fine. I can handle one bag of bones.”

They’re both trying for levity here. It doesn’t quite work, but neither acknowledge it.

Alphys walks Undyne to the front of the hospital. Once she’s satisfied Undyne won’t keel over, she gives a nervous wave goodbye.

Undyne hobbles her way through the streets of New Home. Usually bustling with life, the area is now eerily silent, most monsters still hiding behind locked doors and under floorboards, in fear of the human’s return. It will probably take Queen Toriel’s presence to coax them outside again.

Undyne is relieved to leave New Home behind her as she reaches the riverbank .As if predicting her arrival, the River Person is already there, body bobbing and swaying along with the movements of the boat.

The River Person’s hood hides their face completely. As a guppy, Undyne had once tried to yank the hood down, to see who was underneath, but the River Person always eluded her grasping hands.

“Tra la la. The tape recorder is unstuck from repeat, tra la la. Only onwards now.”

Undyne, like most other monsters who use the ferry, has long since grown used to the River Person’s nonsensical ramblings.

“Take me to Snowdin, please.”

The River Person nods their head in acknowledgement, and without them needing to move an oar, the boat cuts smoothly through the water. The River Person hums to themselves, a low, quiet tune that fades into the background.

Undyne stares into the black waters as they swirl past. As a child, her mother had warned her to never swim in this particular river. The warning was like a challenge, and the first opportunity she got, she threw herself into the river. But the water was unusually thick with ash and sediment, and clogged her airways. She was unconscious within minutes, and would have died if not for the River Person’s timely rescue.

Undyne’s lips quirk in a smile of remembrance. Her mother had screamed at her so loud for so long, she swore her ears were ringing for days after.

A gust of wind cuts through her as they enter the open air of Snowdin. Shuddering, she pulls her jacket closer around her body. The leather material is too thin to provide much warmth. She’s grateful when the River Person pulls up to the dock.

She presses two coins into the River Person’s awaiting palm and then she’s off, covering ground with long strides, eager to escape the cold. Snow falls in soft, fat flakes. A small bunny monster stares out at her through their window. Undyne waves at them, a little lamely.

The brothers’ house looms in the distance.

Just in case, she stops by the bar first. Like the streets of New Home and Snowdin, Grillby’s bar is also much emptier than usual. The fire monster stands behind his counter, and a lone duck is passed out in one of the booths. No sign of Sans, but Undyne goes up to the counter anyway. The elemental monster notices her borrowed cane.

“…Your leg?” His voice is a quiet rumble.

“I’ll survive,” Undyne says, dismissively. “Have you seen Sans?”

“Not since the human came.”

Undyne bites back a curse. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“…Try the door to the Ruins, if he is not home.” Grillby suggests. “He often spoke of going there.”

Undyne thanks the bartender and hobbles out of the bar. Before she knows it, she’s standing in front of the skeleton brothers’ house. She hopes to god Sans is home, because trekking out to the edge of Snowdin would be a pain in the ass. She might ask the dogs to help her look.

Undyne knocks twice, loudly.

“Sans, open up!” She yells. She waits impatiently for half a minute, and knocks on the door again.

“Last chance. Open up, now!”

When no response is forthcoming, Undyne braces herself. Pushing off of the cane to gain momentum, she smashes her shoulder against the door. The door is broken from its hinges and goes crashing down; she goes with it, jarring her injuries in the fall.

Undyne staggers upright. Her body stings, but no wounds seem to have reopened. She replaces the door back into position and snatches her cane from where it fell. Out of respect for Papyrus, she doesn’t want to wreck the place. But perhaps Papyrus would approve—he often broke through windows in a flair of dramatics.

Undyne searches downstairs first. Her stomach churns when she checks the kitchen—dust has been sprinkled overtop the counters. It’s saddening, but also quietly horrifying. It’s been five days since then. Sans hasn’t gone to Grillby’s, and clearly hasn’t cooked a meal either.

Worry intensifying, Undyne returns to the living room. The television is playing to a dark and empty room. Old MTT reruns are playing, perhaps to give some semblance of normalcy after the devastating human attack. No doubt Mettaton and his writers are coming up with an appropriate eulogy video for those lost.

She climbs the stairs. Passing by the closed door to Papyrus’ room, Undyne strides to Sans’. The doorknob turns easily and she flings it open.

“Sans?” She flicks on the light switch, and is treated to the sight of a messy, empty room.

Shit. Is he by the door to the Ruins after all?

Undyne is halfway down the stairs when she stops short.

She walks back up the steps again, and enters Papyrus’ room.

Sans is there. She slumps with relief. She’s not too late.

“Sans?” Undyne calls, softly.

The small skeleton sits on Papyrus’ racecar bed. His brother’s battle body has been reverently cleaned and folded, in a neat pile at the foot of the bed. The red scarf, however, is coiled in Sans’ lap. He idly strokes the fabric while staring at nothing.

Undyne crosses the room to him. Resting her cane on the side of the bed, she grabs Sans’ shoulders.

“Sans, when’s the last time you’ve eaten? The last time you left this room?”

“Doesn’t matter,” He mumbles, so quietly she nearly misses it.

“Look. I know this is hard on you. It’s hard on me too. Paps was—Paps was the best. But you can’t just not take care of yourself. He wouldn’t want that for you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sans repeats.

Further prompting on her part results in nothing but silence.

“Fine then,” She growls, giving up. “If you won’t talk to me like a rational monster, you’re going to stick with me until I say otherwise.”

She lifts Sans up easily—he’s rather light. His one hand curls around the scarf to keep a hold of it, but he’s otherwise limp in her hands. Undyne slings him on her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Her legs quaver at even the slight increase in weight, but Undyne steadfastly ignores her body’s protests.

She tromps back through the snow to the River Person’s station. They say nothing to her this time, just hum lowly as they take Undyne and Sans to Waterfall.

When she reaches her house, Undyne momentarily sets Sans down on the stoop. She retrieves her spare key from under the mat, opening the door wide. She picks Sans up again and deposits him on the couch. Undyne only used to have kitchen chairs, but then Alphys started coming over to watch anime, and she wanted her friend to be comfortable. Papyrus had been the one to help her pick through the dump to find the perfect one.

Yet another wave of grief crashes upon her heart. Is this what her life is going to be like now? Every other thing that happens, just a reminder of what she’s lost? She eyes Sans. What they’ve lost, she amends in her mind.

“Sans. Let me borrow your phone.” She’d had a corded phone once, hooked up by her kitchen countertop, but it didn’t survive the first week of meals.

When the skeleton says nothing, she nudges his shin bone with her foot.

“C’mon. Don’t make me frisk you for it.”

The corners of his grin twitch. He pulls the phone from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t hold it out for her, just sets it on the couch cushion beside him. Undyne snatches up the phone with a huff.

The phone case is covered in cartoon bones. As she suspected earlier, he switched it off. She tears it open again, and the background flickers to life. It’s Papyrus, Sans, and that little white dog that frequents their house. The dog had latched onto Papyrus’ arm, and he shakes it wildly, eyes bulging out of his skull. Sans snickers in the foreground.

Forcing herself to move past the image, Undyne unlocks the phone—Sans didn’t bother with a password—and dials Alphys’ number.

After a moment, she picks up.

“Hello? Sans, Undyne is looking for you.”

“It’s me, Al.” Undyne moves to her bedroom, wanting some privacy for the call. Sans doesn’t seem inclined to try anything, at least for now.

“Oh!” Alphys’ voice colors with relief. “So you found him? How is he taking it?”

“About as well as expected. Which is, well. Pretty bad.”

Undyne left her door open a crack. She peers through now, watching Sans on the couch as he continues to do nothing.

“I brought him to my house. I want to keep an eye on him for a while.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ve felt pretty down some days without having lost anyone like that.”

“It’s not a competition,” Undyne chastises.

“S-Sorry.” There’s a pause, as if Alphys is gearing up for what she has to say next. “I talked with some of the guards. They—They want to know when the funeral ceremony for the lost monsters is going to happen.”

“Has Queen Toriel been located yet?”

“Nothing yet. Last I heard they were still searching the ruins.”

Undyne glances at the calendar by her desk. It’s Thursday now. She exhales deeply.

“Alright. Have Mettaton let everyone know the ceremony will be held on Saturday.” The Queen might want to hold her own when she returns, but right now, monsters need closure.

“Alright. I’ll bring you a new phone tomorrow—do you need anything else?”     

“…Sans will need an outfit for the funeral.”      

~*~

Mass funerals such as this are few and far between. Though nearly every monster falls easily to a human hand, monsters are robust in the face of age. Hell, Gerson has been around since the surface days. Many monsters can withstand extreme temperatures, with a few exceptions that, like Undyne and Grillby, rely heavily on one element.

Mass funerals are normally reserved for natural disasters, such as landslides and Core malfunctions. There’s never been a mass funeral quite like this, though. Every monster in the Underground has been touched by the king’s death, and it seems as if nearly all of them have turned out to attend.

The funeral is held in the town square of New Home, one of the largest places available. Even this is not enough; Undyne scans the sea of faces, which spans the entire square and then some. Monsters are packed into the area, spilling out into the streets nearby.

The guard didn’t own nearly enough folding chairs, but they did their best to set out what they had. Those further back either stand, or have brought their own chairs. Some children are set on their parent’s shoulders. Rigged to the sides of various buildings are massive screens, broadcasting feed from the center stage.

To Mettaton’s credit, he has downplayed his usual glitz and glamor for this somber event. The stage is covered in black cloth. Set out on long tables across the stage are portraits of those lost to the human’s hand. The pictures are framed in polished silver, surrounded by bouquets of black roses. Papyrus, Snowdrake, the dragon and bunny couple from Hotland…there are at least twenty frames set up. Too many. In the center, of course, is Asgore’s portrait. Undyne had been there with him when it was painted, watering the flowers in the throne room for him, since he was not permitted to move as the artist worked.

Mettaton stands before a podium.

“Thank you all for coming.” He says. “I’d like to introduce our speaker today: Captain Undyne.”

Polite applause follows Undyne up the steps to the podium. Mettaton claims Undyne’s now-vacant seat in the front row, next to Alphys and Sans.

Undyne stares out across the crowd. Alphys volunteered to help prepare a speech, but Undyne dismissed the offer. She wanted to speak from the heart.

“We’ve gathered here today to mourn those wrongfully taken from us by the human. We have lost friends. We have lost family. We have lost our king.”

Undyne slams her fist down on the podium.

“But we must not lose our hope! The human has taken much from us, but they cannot take from us the belief that things will change, for the better. Not unless we let them.”

Undyne sees with satisfaction that some zeal and optimism has sparked in the gathered monsters’ eyes.

“We’re here today to remember these wonderful, wonderful monsters and all they’ve done for us. I, for one, remember when King Asgore took me on as his student. It all started when…”

Undyne barely makes it through the rest of her speech, at times choking up, becoming overwhelmed with emotion. A few other monsters, selected ahead of time to speak, come up to share stories about individual monsters that were lost. Since Sans hasn’t spoken since the day she found him, Undyne delivers the segment on Papyrus herself.

By the time the ceremony ends, there’s hardly a dry eye in the square. It’s cathartic, all these monsters together, grieving as one. No dust will be spread today; that honor is reserved for immediate family. A guardsman let Undyne know that Asgore’s dust has been collected in a jar, in preparation for the Queen’s return.

Monsters slowly start to file out from the square. Undyne watches the procession, electing to remain by the stage until everyone clears out.

Alphys sidles up to her, black funeral clothes slicked to her frame with sweat. “Your speech was w-wonderful.”

“Thanks, Al. And thanks for helping set all this up.”

“It was mostly Mettaton, really.” She demurs.

The dog monsters of Snowdin crowd around Sans a short distance away, no doubt offering their condolences.

“Has he improved at all?” Alphys asks, following the course of Undyne’s gaze.

She shakes her head. “Still won’t say a thing. Must still be in shock, I guess.”

“Everyone says they were really close brothers.”

“Yeah. I mean, Papyrus would go on and on about how lazy Sans was, but it was clear he cared, you know?” Undyne’s facial fins droop. “God, I wish he would just cry, or something. I’m really starting to worry about him.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much yet. Seeing something like that would scar anyone.”

“Something like what?” Undyne’s eyes narrow as Alphys fidgets, looking away. “What are you talking about? What do you know that I don’t?”

“Um—well, um—”

 Alphys trails off as Doggo bounds over to them. He stares a little above Undyne’s head, only having the general sense of where she is.

“Hey. You’re keeping watch over Sans, yeah?”

Undyne nods. Doggo jerks a thumb back towards Sans and the cluster of dogs.

“We were thinking of bringing him back with us to Grillby’s. Take his mind off things, like.”

“I’m not his parent, you don’t need to ask permission.”

Doggo just chews on the end of a bone treat, waiting.

“…Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick him up.”

He salutes. “Yes ma’m.”

When he leaves, Alphys tries to as well.

“I s-should go see if Mettaton needs my help—”

Undyne grabs her lightly by the arm.

“Mettaton can take the set down himself. Now explain.”

Alphys buckles under Undyne’s steely glare.

“Okay, okay! I c-can show you at my place. But…you won’t like it.”

~*~

Undyne waits, a ball of dread in her chest, as Alphys feeds a tape into the player. She presses play, but rather than join Undyne on the couch, she sits by the VCR player.

The video flickers to life on the screen, showing the outskirts of Snowdin. Alphys fast-forwards the tape until Papyrus marches into frame. He spins on his heel, evidently waiting for someone. The someone in question soon emerges, and Undyne sucks in a breath. It’s the human, toy knife in hand.

Alphys pauses the video.

“W-We don’t h-have to watch it. I can—I can just t-tell you about it.”

“I want to see it.”

Alphys reluctantly presses play.

“Human!” Papyrus’ voice is muffled slightly by the buffeting winds. “I, the Great Papyrus, have some things to say. I have seen you play fetch with my canine companions. But I have also seen the dusty powder on your hands!”

Papyrus takes a step towards them.

“I am sure you’ve been scared and overwhelmed. But you need not feel this way any longer! I, being the generous skeleton that I am, will show you how to be totally good. You don’t need to hurt anyone.”

Alphys pauses the tape again.

“L-Look right there. By the t-treeline.”

Undyne peers at the screen, where the tip of Alphys’ claw is pointed. If Alphys hadn’t drawn attention to it, Undyne might’ve completely missed it. Sans is just…standing there. Not doing anything to help. Just…watching. Alphys resumes the video.

Papyrus crouches down on one knee before the human, arms outstretched for an embrace.

“Luckily for you, I have decided to give you the honor of spending time with me and learning from your mistakes. What do you say?”

The human shuffles towards him. Undyne waits for Sans to rush in, pull them apart. But he doesn’t do a thing, does not even shout out a warning.

The human bursts into a sprint, cutting across the distance between them and Papyrus in seconds, and jams their knife through the bones of his neck.

Papyrus lets out a painful, wet-sounding gurgle.

He lifts his hands, but rather than summon forth what remains of his magic, he encircles the human in a hug.

The human forces the knife through to the other side of the vertebra, decapitating the skeleton. Papyrus’ head thuds onto the snow. His body sways and collapses to the ground, and he finally dissolves into dust. Undyne thought she’d cried herself out already today, but the tears streaming down her face prove otherwise. Papyrus hadn’t even tried to capture them. He just accepted them, offered to help, and yet the human cut him down so mercilessly.

Once verifying he’s truly dead, the human continues on their way.

Only now does Sans emerge from his hiding place. Clutched in his hands is a jar.

Undyne’s grief is chewed up by a frothing rage. He expected this to happen—he knew his brother would try to stop the human, and rather than keep him safe, he let Papyrus walk to his death. Her hands clench into fists, nails biting crescents into her palms.

She watches, seething, as Sans scoops dust and snow into the jar. He seals the jar tightly, collects Papyrus’ abandoned clothing, and walks back towards his house.

Alphys shuts off the tape, and her gaze darts apprehensively towards Undyne.

“D-Don’t be mad with him.”

“Mad? I’m furious.” Undyne storms towards the door, Alphys trailing behind her. She crams her shoes back on, grabs her jacket.

“He p-p-panicked and froze! A-Anyone would in that situation.”

“Sans let it happen.” Undyne growls.

“Y-You’re not being fair—”

“Papyrus would still be alive if it wasn’t for him!”

“You don’t know that!” Alphys says, hotly. “The human might’ve killed him, too. We’re not all like you, Undyne. Not all of us can just—just rush into danger like you!”

“Why are you defending him?” Undyne towers over Alphys. But for once, the lizard monster has had enough.

“Why are you always like this?” Alphys fires back, spots of color high on her cheeks. “Getting mad and throwing a—a fit, it just makes things worse!”

Alphys seems to realize what she said, expression changing from angry to horrified.

“Are you done?” Undyne asks, deceptively calm.

Alphys takes one step towards her, hand outstretched.

“Undyne, I—”

But Undyne is has heard enough. She snatches up her cane and leaves, the doors hissing shut behind her. She stalks away from the lab, and Alphys does not follow.

Undyne does not allow her righteous rage to cool on the trip over, flinging expletives at Sans in her head the whole ferry ride.

Once she touches down in Snowdin she beelines right for the bar. Heads turn as she throws the door open. The entire canine unit and Grillby are inside. Sans sits at a barstool, clearly well into his cups.

“Sans!” She roars.

The dogs’ ears flatten to their heads in response to the sudden aggression. Undyne advances on Sans, grabs him by the front of his shirt.

“I saw the tape.” She snarls. “I saw how you stood by and watched your brother get killed!”

Sans says nothing, gaze listless, head lolling to the side.

“You son of a bitch!”

Greater Dog yips in alarm as Undyne reels back for a punch. The Dogi grab at her, trying to separate them, but Undyne shakes free of their hold and punches Sans square across the jaw. The force of the blow makes him collide against the side of the bar counter. He sags down, limbs tangled with the legs of the barstool.

Greater Dog hooks his arms under hers and hauls Undyne backwards. Undyne kicks at him, but is unable to connect. The other dogs swarm between her and Sans, physical barriers. Grillby’s flames crackle high with anger, nearly grazing the ceiling.

“Closing ranks on me? I am your captain.”

Lesser Dog helps Sans upright again. There’s a small crack in the skeleton’s cheekbone, where she struck him. The sight of the injury that she caused douses her fury instantly.

“….oh my god.” Undyne croaks. She places a hand to her face. God, what is she doing?

Throwing a fit, a tantrum, just like Alphys said she would.

Lesser Dog whines, and applies basic healing magic to Sans’ face. The bone reknits, the evidence of her fury erased, but the truth of what she’s done is felt by the shame in her soul, the disappointed gazes of her peers.

“We’ll watch Sans tonight, captain.” Dogaressa says, and Undyne hates how patient she sounds.

Doggo hands her back her cane—she’d dropped it when she pounced on Sans—and after a terse nod, Undyne leaves before she can do any more damage.

~*~

The first thing she does the morning after is call Alphys. Both are apologetic and eager to make peace, and Undyne ultimately hangs up the phone knowing their friendship has been mended.

The second thing she does is trek back to Snowdin. She collects Sans from the Dogi’s care once they’re satisfied she won’t lash out again, and leads him back to his house.

 “You’re going to be living with me for a while, so let’s grab some of your things.”

She locates a few empty boxes stashed in the laundry room. Undyne grabs some things from Sans’ bedroom—changes of clothes, some joke books. When she returns to the living room, she sees that Sans has filled his own box. She spies a red glove peeping out from the top and understands—he’s bringing mementos of Papyrus.

Once they’re all set, Sans obediently shuffles behind her as Undyne brings him back to her home. Undyne sets about converting the living room into Sans’ space, placing his clothes in a set of empty drawers. She had almost grabbed sheets from his house, but they were wadded up in a ball so greasy and disgusting, that Undyne simply makes up the bed with spare sheets from her linen closet. Moments later, Undyne surveys her work with satisfaction.

“There! Your new home away from home.” She glances at Sans, but he doesn’t appear to be paying attention, instead idly gazing at the kitchen table.

Undyne drags up a chair next to him and meets his vacant gaze.

“I don’t know if you’re even aware of what I’m saying right now, but I’ll say it anyway.”

Undyne takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. How I behaved yesterday was reprehensible. But I’m going to do better. I’ll take care of you until I’m sure you’re better. It’s what Papyrus would want. And it’s what I want, too.”

Undyne gives his boney shoulder a squeeze of solidarity. Sans doesn’t acknowledge her, but Undyne will not be deterred.

“Now let’s see if I can rustle us up some grub, huh?”

~*~

Weeks pass. Rumors start to swirl about Queen Toriel. Rumors that the human killed her, too. No one knows for sure, not until the search party finishes their thorough search, but monsters have started to fear she’s never coming back. A council of major public figures, such as Undyne, and older, more knowledgeable monsters, such as Gerson, is formed. They’ve been meeting daily to handle basic issues and debate on the new leader. The old turtle went as far as to throw Undyne’s hat in the ring. But while Alphys liked the idea, she’s not so sure she’ll become the next ruler. Undyne is a warrior; not a diplomat, not a politician.

“I’m home, Sans.” Undyne announces. Sans has taken to lazing around her house all day. Thankfully, he does eat when Undyne prepares food for them in the morning and at night.

For once, Sans is not in the same position she left him in. He’s staring down at his phone.

“Sans?” Undyne sits beside him on the couch, peering at his screen. He has the date and time pulled up, and is watching it keenly.

“Oookay then.” Undyne doesn’t question it.

Instead, she leaves him to it and whips up a quick dinner for the two of them. Sans doesn’t move to the kitchen as he normally does, so Undyne has to bodily pick him up and deposit him in the chair.

When he doesn’t so much as glance at the food Undyne pummeled to perfection, she leans over the table to glower at him.

“Eat or I’m taking that phone from you.”

After a moment, Sans shoves a few mouthfuls of food in distractedly, never taking his eye sockets off the phone.

Undyne doesn’t know what to make of this. On the one hand, she’s glad Sans has started to do something. But on the other, she doesn’t quite understand what he’s trying to accomplish with this. Is he waiting for something?

Undyne polishes off her meal and wraps up the remainder of Sans’ for tomorrow.

Sans moves back to the couch, and she enables his weird obsession, plugging in his phone so it’ll keep its charge through the night. His leg jiggles restlessly, his fingers tapping an anxious beat against his teeth. She sits near him for a time, but her presence seems to only put him more on edge.

So she leaves him be, but keeps her bedroom door ajar, on the incredibly slight chance that Sans might want to talk.

After changing in to pajamas, she sits in bed. She tries to read, but her gaze keeps straying to the door. Sans had seemed puzzling enough during their first meeting, before he clammed up. She’s at a loss with how to handle this. If he’s still like this in the morning, she’ll look into getting him some professional help.

She sets the book on the nightstand, right beside the figurine Papyrus gave her. Undyne stares at the figurine for a moment, then switches off the light. She’ll go to sleep early, tonight.

~*~

Undyne is awoken hours later to the sound of Sans screaming.

Chapter Text

Undyne’s bare feet slap on the tile as she races to Sans’ side.

A twinging pain in her leg throws her off-balance. She catches herself on the piano stool, and uses it to propel herself the last couple of feet to Sans’ side.

He’s hunched in a ball, fingers scraping the sides of his skull. Sans is shrieking as if he’s being tortured, being pulled apart joint by joint.

“Sans!” Alarmed beyond belief, Undyne grabs at his hands, desperate to get him to stop.

The skeleton nearly wrenches his arms out of their sockets in his attempts to escape her hold. Fearful of what might happen if she stays stubborn, she lets him go. He starts to dig at his skull again, fingers leaving marks in the bone.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Undyne murmurs, frantic. What should she do? How can she get him to stop?

“Sans, calm down, please.” She urges him.

She grabs his face, trying to get him to look at her, but his gaze is flickering and vacant. His screams taper off for a moment, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants.

“Sans, it’s me, it’s Undyne, you’re here and you’re safe and—”

Sans starts screaming again, and she knows that her words can do nothing to help at this point.

Undyne grabs Sans, wrestles down his flailing limbs, and wraps one arm around Sans’ neck. He gasps for air, claws at her arm, but Undyne keeps up the chokehold. Just a little more time, a little more pressure.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry.” She chants like a mantra, as Sans’ struggles gradually grow weaker, weaker, and finally he falls lax in her arms. Of all the ways she could have rendered him unconscious, this was the cleanest and safest. Even if it was, guilt still sits heavy in her gut.

Undyne lets him go instantly, his skull slipping down into her lap. She presses healing magic to his self-inflicted wounds, the pads of her fingers becoming crummy with dust. The scratches are deep, and his intent to harm was too strong. Marks will remain behind despite her immediate aid.

She takes measured breaths, willing her racing heart to slow down. What the hell was that? Is he prone to these fits of madness? Did Papyrus deal with them before? If so, how? Or perhaps, this is something new. Perhaps this is Sans coming to the delayed realization that his brother is actually gone.

She just doesn’t know. Papyrus had told her where Sans worked, about their sock feud, lamented his love for Grillby’s and grease. But Undyne knows next to nothing about who Sans really is as a person.

Undyne eyes the clock—a little after midnight. Alphys should still be up. She slips off the sofa, legs still shaking with adrenaline. She stares back at Sans for a moment, but he doesn’t seem likely to stir.

First, she washes her hands in the kitchen, glad to feel Sans’ dust wash off from her hands. Then she returns to her room, tugging her phone free from its charger. Her hand trembles slightly as she dials the Royal Scientist’s number.

As expected, Alphys picks up quickly.

“H-Hello?”

“Al, I need your help. Sans just had a major freakout.”

“Oh my god. Is he okay?”

“I kind of had to strong-arm him into unconsciousness. Could you bring over something to—I don’t know—keep him calm?”

“…I should have something around here that’s compatible with his physiology.” Alphys’ voice is thick with sympathy. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Al.”

“Of course.”

She ends the call and returns to Sans’ side. He is calm in slumber, expression on his face smoothened out and peaceful. Heaving a sigh, Undyne sits on the one couch cushion not taken up by the sleeping skeleton. Her idea of fixing a problem usually involves punching whoever’s responsible. But the human is long gone, and she cannot bring back those lost.

Feeling useless and anxious, Undyne stands again in agitation. She can’t just sit here, stewing in her thoughts. She goes over to the kitchen and sets the kettle on. Perhaps a warm drink will settle her nerves. Undyne checks the fridge—there’s barely enough soda left for a cup-full.

“Sorry, Alphys.” She mutters. Maybe today will be the day Undyne converts her into a tea-drinker. Probably not, though.

 The tea kettle starts its shrill whistle, and Undyne hurriedly snatches it off the stove. She steals a glance over her shoulder, and notices with relief that the noise hasn’t disturbed Sans.

Undyne pours herself a mug of golden flower tea and parks herself at the kitchen table. She sips at the beverage. It’s rather hot, nearly scalding, but she savors the burn as it goes down.

Undyne finishes three mugs before she hears a harried knock at the door. She lets Alphys in, eyeing the plastic case of medical supplies she’s clutching in her arms.

“I brought s-some sedatives of varying potencies, for now and in case anything happens again.” Alphys backpedals. “N-Not that I mind coming down to help!”

“Easy, Al.” Undyne steers her frazzled friend over towards Sans. “Why don’t you show me how it works?”

“R-Right.” Alphys fumbles open the case, selecting one of the pre-filled needles. “With skeletal and gelatinous monsters, the point of entry for the needle doesn’t matter as much, as medicine gets digested by their magic almost instantly. I would suggest the femur, or the ulna—larger bones. Anywhere is fine, though. E-Except for their eye sockets, and um, you know. Private areas.”

Despite the situation they’re in, Undyne can’t help but snort at that. Alphys is awful prudish in person, but her choice in anime is often far from tame.

“You also have to be a bit rough with the injection site. Skeleton bones are much firmer than skin, or even bones that other types of monsters have.” She pauses. “Where is he now?”

“Right over here.” Undyne gestures for Alphys to follow her into the living room.

Alphys gasps softly as she spies Sans on the couch. She touches the edge of one of the deeper gouges in his skull.

“He did all this?” Alphys asks, hardly believing it.

Undyne nods glumly. “You see why I had to knock him out. I was afraid of what other damage he might do to himself if I let him calm down on his own.”

“Oh my,” Alphys’ tail curls around her leg, a self-comforting gesture. “That’s awful.”

“I need to find out what happened. But I don’t want him to go crazy again as soon as he wakes up.”

Alphys sets the case down and clicks it open. The needles inside are neatly arranged, carefully labeled. Despite her predilection for clutter in her own workspace, the lizard monster took great care in packing all this.

“The intensity of the sedatives is labeled on the needles. T-They’re also color-coded.” Alphys taps the back of the lid, which has a key for the labelling system taped on. “I attached this too, just in case you wanted to double check.”

Alphys selects a needle with a light green label.

“This one should only last a few minutes. Just enough to start him out calm.”

Alphys flicks the needle, excess fluid spattering onto the floor. Undyne holds Sans’ arm steady as Alphys injects the drug into Sans’ ulna. His skeletal grin twitches at the sudden sharp pinch of pain.

Alphys finishes dispensing the sedative, and removes the needle just as Sans wakes up.

The lights in his eye sockets track the ceiling, dim, hazy.

“…’pyrus?” He mutters, voice still rough from his earlier screams.

Alphys scoots back some to let Undyne move closer in.

“Are you with us, Sans?”

Sans’ gaze shifts to the side. He blinks slowly.

“Where’m I?” He asks drowsily.

Undyne glances at Alphys, who gives her an encouraging nod.

“You’re in my house, remember?”

Undyne waits as Sans sluggishly looks around the room, pasting the clues together. His groggy expression twists into grief.

“No,” He moans. He tries to push himself upright, but Undyne firmly pushes him back down onto the cushions.

“We’re here for you.” Undyne’s voice is as gentle as it’s ever been. “Just talk to us, please.”

Sans drags a hand over his face, blinking rapidly. The lights in his eyes seem to sharpen—the sedative is wearing off.

“It should’ve—It shouldn’t—”

“Sans, what are you talking about?” Undyne reaches for him, but Sans bats her hand away with a sudden energy.

There’s a whipcord crackle of magic in the air, and Sans is suddenly gone.

Undyne lowers her hand; it presses into the couch. He’s gone.

“How in the hell…?”

“H-He shouldn’t be using magic like that, not when he’s medicated.” Alphys clicks her claws together nervously.

“That was his magic?” Undyne grabs her phone. “I need to put a tracking device on him. This is getting ridiculous.”

She calls reliable sentries in each district to search for the missing skeleton. Not one of them complain about the hour, for which she’s immeasurably grateful.

There’s a lull in action as the two friends wait for someone to call back. Undyne’s body decides that now it’s time to voice its complaints. Her chest wound throbs dully, but her thigh injury is acting up nastily. She hisses at the flaring pain, massaging her leg. Nothing seems to ease the stabbing pangs aside from time.

“Has your leg been bothering you?” Asks Alphys.

“It’s been getting better.” At Alphys’ skeptical look, Undyne adds: “Really. These flare-ups only happen now and then.”

Undyne is saved from further questioning when her phone rings. Unsurprisingly, it’s Doggo.

“He’s in the shed behind their house,” The canine sentry reports. “For once, he won’t stay still for a moment. Seems to be working on some kind of machine.”

“Can you get him back into the house?” She doesn’t want him near any type of machinery or equipment after the state he was in earlier.

“I would, but when he saw me comin’ he kind of barred the way in. I mean, I could probably cut through—”

“No. Don’t antagonize him. I’m heading over there now.”

“Did something happen to his face? It looks kind of scratched up—”

“I’m hanging up,” Undyne speaks over him. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“…Roger, captain.”

Undyne can feel Alphys’ gaze boring into her back as she calls the other sentries to end their searches. When that’s finished, she turns to Alphys.

“What is it?”

“Are you going after him?”

“Damn right I am.” But not in pajamas. Undyne limps over to her closet and lays out a simple outfit.

Alphys follows her into the bedroom, stalling Undyne’s progress. She doesn’t want Alphys to see her gingerly struggle to dress. So she simply stands there, sweater bunched in her fist.

“Why d-don’t you let Doggo handle it?”

“Sans is my responsibility now. I can’t let—”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re not r-recovered yet, something’s still wrong with your leg—”

“I told you, my leg’s getting better—”

“—You shouldn’t be running around like you’ve been.”

“Alphys—” Undyne clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want to argue again. Alphys looks guilty, too. They both thought they made peace. Evidently not.

“If you’re going, I’m coming with you.” Alphys says, firmly.

Undyne can tell it’s either that or they’ll be landing in another argument, so she agrees.

~*~

As they approach the shed, not much seems to have changed since the phone call. Doggo stands guard, watching attentively. The nub of a smoking dog treat is jammed between his teeth. The door to the shed is flung wide open, but in its place are tall rows of glowing bone attacks. Undyne marches up to the fence of bones, peering through.

Sans is muttering to himself, some jargon she can’t make sense of. Papers and tools are scattered haphazardly around the room. The skeleton is half-wedged in a large machine, fiddling with some unscrewed paneling.

“Sans, let me in.” Undyne orders.

He doesn’t seem to ignore her, so much as not hear her at all, lost in his own world.

Frowning, Undyne turns on her heel. Doggo and Alphys were trading low, uneasy chatter during her unsuccessful bargaining, but trail off at her approach.

“Doggo. Tear that barrier down.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Doggo summons several swords, which slice cleanly through the wall of bones. Sans’ magic tries to hold firm at first, but Doggo keeps up a steady barrage, and the wall scatters and crashes.

Undyne only takes one step forward before Sans erects a second wall, not once turning his gaze from the machine.

“Sans. We can do this the easy way,” Undyne cracks her knuckles. “Or my way.”

When he fails to respond to her threat, Undyne wraps her hands around two of the bone constructs. The magic hums in her palms, warm but not burning. Gritting her teeth, she squeezes hard. The magic shatters in her firm grip. Sans flicks an annoyed glance her way, and raises up two new bones.

“I can do this all night,” Undyne declares, shattering another pair of bone attacks to illustrate her point. “But do you want to keep diverting your attention from your oh-so important machine?”

He doesn’t reply, so Undyne grabs onto yet another pair, when the wall of attacks abruptly shatter by their creator’s will. Grinning a toothy, victorious smile, Undyne steps inside.

What little she could see through the doorway merely hinted at the mess inside. In one corner, boxes bulging with files are stacked precariously. A small push would topple them over. A long lab table is covered with various tools and blueprints. Curiously out of place, mixed in with the mess is a photo album.

Undyne is about to open it when Sans snaps: “Don’t touch anything.”

He sounds angry, but lucid.

“And what the hell are you even doing?”

Undyne folds her arms, watching Sans clean a sheet of filthy metal with an equally-filthy rag.

“I thought you promised to not distract me.” He grunts. The metal seems to meet his standards now, and Sans slaps it on top of some exposed wiring. As he picks around the room in search of a soldering iron, Undyne rejoins Alphys and Doggo, who remained anxiously by the doorframe.

“Do you know what he’s doing?” Undyne asks, gaze never straying from Sans.

“I-I don’t know.” Alphys shrugs helplessly. “It has a cockpit, so someone’s supposed to get inside. It’s m-most likely a transportation or alteration d-device. But just from looking at it from the outside, I can’t really tell.”

“This is the first I’m seeing of anything like this.” Mutters Doggo. “Sans always seemed like a simple guy.”

“Paps never mentioned anything either,” Undyne remarks. Not that that means much—although Papyrus never seemed to lie, she also got the sense he was sometimes omitting the whole truth.

Alphys remains oddly quiet.

Sans pays no mind to his peanut gallery, hell-bent on fixing up the machine. There are streaks across the machine’s frame, where Sans has wiped away some of the thick layer of dust to pry off rusted panels and replace them. This thing, whatever it is, evidently hasn’t been used in a long, long time.

Sans’ face brightens with satisfaction as the machine sputters to life. The motor chugs noisily, lights flickering on. Sans opens a panel to reveal a computer screen and keyboard. There are no words on the screen, but instead a series of bizarre symbols.

Unperturbed by this, Sans types something into the keyboard. Once he submits his entry, the machine labors to obey, motor thumping harder, its frame rattling slightly. It looks frighteningly unstable, which is why when Sans goes to climb in, Undyne finally intervenes, grabbing him by the elbow.

“Okay, no. That thing looks far too dangerous to just go diving into it.”

Sans glowers at her, blue magic trailing out from his left eye socket. Undyne is beset by an immense pressure that forces her down. She drops to the floor, cheek pressed into a stack of papers. She wants to push herself up, but she can’t even raise her arms up off the floor enough to be able to push. This blue attack is savage—she understands now that Paps had been going easy on her during their sparring sessions.

Doggo rushes forward, but with a flick of Sans’ hand, he crashes to the floor as well. However, with Sans’ power now split between the two of them, Undyne is given a bit more leeway. Her muscles twitch as she starts her struggles anew against the blue attack.

Undyne can barely see Alphys in her periphery, rocking anxiously on her feet. She wants to help, but she doesn’t know how—she’s a far cry from a trained guard.

 Sans, now unimpeded, climbs in the cockpit, pulling the hatch shut behind him.

With tremendous force, Undyne manages to push her head and torso slightly up off the ground. Slowly, she starts to crawl closer towards the machine.

The low hum of the machine warps into a shrill wine—something’s clearly not right.

 “It’s going to explode!” Alphys gasps out a frantic warning.

Sans’ hold on Undyne and Doggo snaps as he desperately tries to regain control of the malfunctioning machine. Undyne staggers upright. She grasps onto the machine with one hand to steady herself, and punches through the hatch. Sans reflexively covers his head as shards of glass rain down on him.

“Stop it!” Sans snaps. “Just get out of here and let me work!”

Undyne grabs Sans by the front of his shirt and drags him from the machine. His limbs swing about as he struggles in her hold. One of his fists connects against her jaw, clicking her teeth together.

“Damn it, Sans!” She grunts, trying to haul him back.

Doggo grabs Sans’ other side to help Undyne out. Together, they drag him from the shed.

The machine belches out thick smoke, sparks trickling from its joints.

“No, I can fix it! Let me go!”

Sans strains towards the shed, but Undyne and Doggo hold him tightly. It doesn’t dawn on Sans to use his magic, so single-mindedly devoted to trying to wrest himself free.

The machine does not explode in a shower of sparks and flame. Instead, it gives one last death rattle and falls silent. The clouds of smoke begin to ebb, thinning out when they hit the open air of Snowdin.

Undyne and Doggo release Sans once the danger’s passed. He immediately returns back inside the shed, running over to the machine. Undyne watches as he pulls up the keyboard again. The computer screen is nonresponsive. Sans types for several minutes, with increasing urgency, but nothing he tries revives the machine. He slams his fist on the keyboard in a bout of anger, snapping it free from the machine, bits of useless plastic scattering across the floor.

He drops to his knees, his shoulders quaking, and Undyne realizes that he’s begun to cry. She shoots a look over her shoulder; Alphys and Doggo get the hint, and give the two of them privacy, closing the door to the shed. Undyne can hear their retreating footsteps as they walk away from the shed.

Undyne approaches Sans. She crouches down, and envelops him in an embrace from behind. His small frame shakes with the force of his sobs, and Undyne just holds him. She doesn’t offer any words of consolation, feeling they’d ring hollow.

Sans twists around in her hold and buries his face in her shoulder as he takes shuddering breaths. She can feel tears and mucus dampen the fabric, but doesn’t care in the least. Sans’ hands come up to clutch tightly at the back of Undyne’s jacket.

They sit like this for a good hour, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Sans ultimately depletes his well of grief for the moment, leaving him wrung-out and weary. Tear tracks stain his cheek bones.

“Well, that was embarrassing.” He mutters, scrubbing at his face. He leans away from her, and Undyne’s arms drop from around him.

She stands, limbs buzzing from sitting in one position for so long.

“Let’s get out of here.” She suggests.

As they leave, she notices that Sans locks the shed with a silver key, which he slips back into his jacket pocket.

“There isn’t any chance of that machine going off, is there?”

“No,” He says. “It’s broken for good, now.”

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes, though she’s still unsure of what he was trying to accomplish.

They reach the front porch of the Skeleton Brothers’ house. Undyne goes to open the door, but uses too much force—it flops down to the ground.

 “Oh, right.” Undyne sheepishly picks it up again. She’d forgotten she’d broken it down a while back.

Alphys is waiting for them inside, as Undyne figured she would be. The living room is suffused with warmth—the scientist must’ve fiddled with the thermostat while waiting for them.

“I sent D-Doggo home.” Alphys says. “And the door was, um. Unlocked. So I let myself in.” Her gaze flicks to Sans. “H-Hey, Sans.”

A second person seems to make him self-aware, and he tugs the hood up over his skull. It doesn’t quite manage to hide all of the scratch marks, but neither Alphys nor Undyne comment on it.

“Hey,” He says, quietly.

Sans takes a seat on the couch. Undyne grabs the afghan blanket draped across the back of the couch and swathes it around him before taking a seat beside him.

Alphys turns the television on at a low volume, and plops down on Undyne’s other side. The movie is a dramatic romance between Mettaton (as the protagonist) and Mettaton (with a bow taped to the top of his boxy form).

Though Sans doesn’t radiate much heat, Alphys provides a comforting warmth, pressed up against Undyne’s side. Emotionally and physically drained, Undyne nods off.

~*~

She’s jolted out of her nap by the blaring theme song of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. Alphys yelps and scrambles to find her phone.

“H-Hello?” Alphys shoots Undyne and Sans an apologetic look as she heaves up off the couch, putting some distance between them to continue her call without bothering them too much. “Yes, this is s-she. What’s going on?”

Undyne stretches, joints popping. She glances over; it seems the phone call roused Sans as well. He peeks out from his blanket cocoon, disgruntled, clearly still muzzy with sleep and not ready to fully wake up yet. The morning sun shines in through the windows, glowing orange light sparkling over the snow. If Undyne had to estimate, she’d say it’s around ten in the morning. After a night like last night, it’s still far too early to be up.

Undyne squints at the television set. Apparently the movie Alphys put on last night was the first in a series. The Mettaton with a bow now swoons in the arms of another monster, to Protagonist Mettaton’s chagrin.

Undyne watches the melodrama unfold with disinterest until Alphys returns to them, looking unsure.

“I’m sorry, Undyne, but I just got a call saying the Core’s acting up—”

Undyne waves her off. “That’s fine. Go do your thing.”

Still, Alphys hesitates.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Give me a little credit, here.”

In all honesty, her and Sans are probably going to drop back off to sleep, and then stumble back to Waterfall when Undyne gets hungry enough.

“O-Okay then. I’ll text you l-later.” She gives Sans a jerky nod farewell, and steps out into the cold, leaving Sans and Undyne alone again.

Undyne sinks back into the couch. It’s not as comfortable as her own; she can feel its springs digging into her back.

She looks over at the skeleton. He’s no longer the shambling zombie he was the past few weeks, but his aura feels broken, devastated. It’ll take ages for him to recover from the loss of his brother, if he ever does.

“Do the scratches hurt?”

“Nah. I’m guessing you healed them?”

“I couldn’t do much. I don’t think the marks will go away, Sans.”

“Heh.” He hunches tighter in on himself, grin feeling especially strained. “Guess there’s no way for me to save face now.”

“We’ll get you something to cover it.” Undyne assures him. She shifts on the couch, moving slightly closer to him. “Sans, tell me…what were you trying to do in the shed? What was that machine supposed to do?”

He doesn’t respond.

Mettaton challenges the monster that stole Bow Mettaton away to a duel. The monster draws a fencing blade, but Mettaton pulls out a pistol.

Undyne nudges the Sans-blanket-lump with her elbow.

“I know you didn’t fall back asleep. Answer me.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” He says, finally.

 Undyne throws up her hands. “Then help me understand.”

The doorbell chimes. They both look at each other—neither is expecting visitors. Undyne walks over to the door. Perhaps Doggo told the canine unit what happened and they decided to pay Sans a visit.

But to her surprise, when she opens the door, it’s to a bear monster she doesn’t recall meeting before. She stands a good head taller than Undyne, with muted purple fur, and glasses balanced on a button-shaped nose. She’s dressed lightly despite the cold weather; perhaps her fur is a thick enough insulator from the cold.

“Captain Undyne?” She rumbles, sounding relieved.

Undyne tries to place the woman, but continues to draw a blank. “That’s me.”

The bear holds out her hand. Undyne shakes it, her own hand nearly engulfed in the bear’s. Her grip is surprisingly gentle for someone of her size and stature.

“My name is Bearnice. I was your attending physician at New Home Hospital.”

“Oh…oh!” Undyne wishes she had a gift basket or something to give her. “Thanks for all your help.”

“No need to thank me. I am only sorry I could not come sooner. The hospital has been unbelievably busy since the human came, as I am sure you understand. May I come in?”

“Sure.”

Sans glances their way when they enter, but, seeing it has nothing to do with him, only burrows further into the blanket.

Undyne keeps Bearnice by the table with the pet rock on it, not wanting the doctor to see what’s happened to the kitchen. They both sit down.

“I’m glad I finally tracked you down. You left before I could fill you in, and I could not seem to reach you on your phone.”

“Ah. I had to get a new one.”

“The River Person was helpful enough to point me in the right direction this morning. I was about to head to Waterfall when they told me you were here.” Bearnice’s gaze darts over to Sans. “Are you sure you do not want to go someplace more private?”

“Sans can hear whatever it is, it’s fine. Why—is something wrong?”

“When you were brought in to us, you required immediate surgery. The wound to your thigh was far more serious than perhaps you realized.” Bearnice gestures to her leg. “The human’s weapon was lodged deep inside. To get all of it out, we had to cut deep. Some muscle had to be removed, too.”

Bearnice removes her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose before replacing them again.

“I’m sure you’ve been having issues walking, yes? And running, especially.”

“What are you getting at?”

“There’s no delicate way to put this, I’m afraid.” She takes Undyne’s hand between her two massive paws. “Captain, this isn’t a temporary thing. You won’t be physically capable of things you used to be able to do.”

“What…?” Undyne croaks.

“You’ll need to use a cane. The nurses sent you home with one, I was told, but I do not see it around here.” Bearnice glances around the room, frowning with dissatisfaction. “Using the cane will ease the strain on your right leg. And, furthermore…I’m sorry, captain. The loss of the muscle has made your leg off-balanced. You will not be able to run long distances, or perform rigorous exercises with it any longer.”

“This is…permanent?” Undyne’s mind cannot get unstuck from this thought.

“Don’t worry, m’dear.” Bearnice’s brown eyes are soft with sympathy. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I also know you’ll be able to pull through. Someone like you, this won’t keep you down.”

Bearnice gives Undyne’s hand one last comforting squeeze before letting go.

“I’ll have someone send over some papers for you to look over that will cover stretches and the like. Does that sound good to you?”

“Sure, that’s…great.” It’s a monumental effort for Undyne to speak at the moment.

Bearnice rises. “Take care of yourself, now.”

The doctor sees herself out. Undyne looks down at her leg. Beneath her pants, it’s still wrapped in a thick bandage she’s been changing at the end of every week. The wound looked like it was healing well, but she didn’t realize…

This isn’t the first time she’s been severely wounded. She has the scars—and doesn’t have the eye—to prove it. But she’s always been lucky, before. She’s been knocked down, but given time, she’s been able to stand back up again. She started to take for granted what her body was capable of recovering from.

“Well.” Sans calls over from the sofa, low and bitter: “Looks like we’re both fucked, aren’t we?”

Undyne presses her palm to her eye, not letting tears slip out. She won’t cry again.

You can’t be captain of the royal guard if you can’t so much as jog. Before the human, she was the hero of the Underground. People admired her. She was a beacon of hope. She could do anything. And now what is she?

“What am I supposed to do now?” She asks. “What am I supposed to do?”