Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Gentle bird chirps prompted Frisk to wake from their slumber. Fall had truly settled into the air the day before, and they had snuggled into a warm nest of blankets the night before. Frisk blinked their eyes open slowly, a blurry version of their room gradually coming into focus. They blinked again. And again. 

    They sat up with a start, staring at the space surrounding them. It was not the little room Tori had helped them set up when they'd reached the surface some months before. There was another bed across from the one they'd woken on, and its half of the room had significantly more things cluttered around than their side. All that was notable here was a wagon with a bird cage by the foot of the bed. 

    Frisk closed their eyes and focused, trying to remember. Had something happened? Was there some kind of reset? What was this house? They grew frustrated and gave up thinking, instead jumping out of bed and crossing to the window to look outside. It looked like it would be a beautiful day . . . if they had woken up in their own home. Frisk trembled a little, but shook their head and took a deep breath. They'd figure this out. It would be okay. If they could just find home, they were sure mom would be able to help, or better yet know what had happened. They turned and headed for the one door in the room, reaching up for the knob.

    "Knock knock," 

    Frisk jumped as the familiar voice sent a warm feeling through them. They smiled and opened the door. Mom was here, everything was fine, there was some explanation--

    They froze, gaze moving over Toriel. It was her, undoubtably. But . . . it also absolutely was not. Small differences in her eyes, how she held herself, things that Frisk had learned to notice over their many, many resets. This was not the same Toriel they had bid goodnight. 

    "Oh! You're up early, my child." She gave her gentle smile and knelt down to pat their head. "I just wanted to make sure you were up in time for school. Breakfast is almost ready." She brushed some hair out of Frisk's face, frowning slightly. "Is everything alright?"

    Frisk forced themselves to nod and gave her a tiny smile. 

    Tori didn't look like she completely believed them, but let it go. She stood up and headed out of the room. 

    "I need to attend a rather unfortunately long meeting after school today," she called back. "So I'm afraid you'll either need to wait or walk home after detention. I shall make sure you have some extra snacks either way."

    Frisk blinked. Detention? They always tried to keep peace with everyone, and never talked enough to get into any trouble anyway. Why did they have detention? Frisk shook their head. That wasn't the biggest problem here. Where was here? Why was Toriel different? Who . . . they swallowed, mind racing. Who was sharing their room?

    "Frisk!" Her voice called outside the door before she opened it and peered in. "Would you like to assist me in the garden today after school? I wanted to pick up some things at the store before we came home, I'd like to figure out exactly what we'll need."

    Kris sat up slowly, looking around. This was not their room. 

    "Ah, you're not yet awake. You don't have to answer now," she assured with a smile. "Breakfast is done whenever you're ready! We can leave once you've finished." She said, leaving the room. 

    They looked around at the various items kept neat around the room. The lack of another person's belongings. 

    Frisk cautiously found their way downstairs, following the well-known scent of their mom's pie. Toriel was bustling about the kitchen, putting sliced fruit into baggies and then a paper bag. She added some crackers and a juice pouch, then seemed satisfied and set to getting breakfast onto the table. Frisk climbed up into a chair and stared at the plate she slid in front of them. She noted their gaze but didn't press them on it. It wasn't abnormal for them to act a little strangely. 

    Frisk tried to keep their expression blank, but their mind was racing. Had they lost their memory? Was there another reset, and when they all got to the surface they ended up in a different house? Toriel didn't seem to think anything was wrong, and Frisk had never wanted to reset again after finally achieving their goal, so they didn't want to raise any suspicions they couldn't fix easily. They would go along with the day, figure out as much as they could, and hopefully be able to piece together what had happened on their own. 

    They felt tears burning the edges of their eyes and frantically brushed them away. They wouldn't cry. They had been on their own before, they could do it again. 

    After breakfast, Toriel handed Frisk's lunch (and snack) to them and picked up a box of papers, leading the way to what Frisk assumed was the front door. They found their shoes not far from it and sat down to pull them on, scrambling out after her quickly, not wanting to lose her in the unfamiliar place. 

    "Goodness my child, you need not have rushed. I won't leave without you if you're on time,"

    Frisk followed her to a shiny red van, heading for the backseat. 

    ". . ? My child? Are you, sitting in the back?"

    They froze and slowly pulled their arm away from the handle, moving instead to the passenger seat and setting their lunch on their lap. They both buckled in and Toriel started up the car, pulling it to the edge of the driveway. Frisk recalled that they may have to walk home, and looked intently out the window, determined to remember the way back and hoping it wasn't far. 

    ". . . are you feeling alright?" Tori finally asked, a note of concern in her voice. 

    Frisk contemplated their answer. ". . . no." They finally said softly. 

    Toriel put the car into park and waited for them to elaborate. 

    "I," they paused and took a breath. They could do this. "I'm, I'm half right."

    "Half . . ?" she blinked, confused. Realization washed over her face after a moment and she laughed long and hard at the joke. "Half! Half right! Ha ha!" She giggled a little more, bringing a smile to Frisk's own face. "I, ha, I suppose you are correct, my child." She brushed their hair back and scoffed. "Wherever did you come up with that?"

    Frisk felt dread flooding through them. "Y, you and Sans," they answered before really meaning to.

    "Me? Who's Sans, dear?"

    Frisk's breath caught in their throat, and Toriel looked more concerned than before. 

    ". . . my child? Kris, who is Sans?"

Chapter Text

    Trees and buildings passed by as Frisk kept their gaze purposefully fixed on the window. They'd written off the pun as something from a dream, and didn't want to talk about it further. Tori had stopped questioning it as they would be late for school, and they had been off. Frisk again felt tears building up, and almost angrily forced them away. Sans had been their backup plan. Him or Alphys. If they hadn't been able to figure out what was happening on their own, they would try the shorter skeleton brother for help. And the taller skeleton brother for support, as he was the very greatest. But if this Toriel hadn't known Sans, that meant he probably didn't know her, either. Where was he? If they were on the surface, how had--

    Frisk about jumped out of the car when they passed Undyne. Surely the mighty fish warrior would know what was happening. But they kept quiet. Watching from a haze as the unfamiliar streets rolled past. 

    "Oh, dear," Tori fumbled to get her keys into her purse and stepped out of the car, grabbing the box of papers from the back. "Hurry, Kris, we don't want you to be late again."

    Frisk took a moment to figure out the door latch before scampering after her, holding their bagged lunch tight. They followed close into the building, looking up and down the halls. 

    "Let's see, I told you about the meeting, you have your lunch," she gave a nod and looked down at them. "That was everything. Have a good day, dear, please." She added. "I shall see you at home."

    Frisk didn't want her to leave. Above everything else, in this new place, this new life they'd been thrown into, they didn't want the one person they had, however different, to leave them. She'd been there since the beginning. When they'd fallen into the Underground, Tori had taken their hand and shown them they needn't be afraid. But this . . . they were very afraid of what this might be. Before they could find a way to voice any of that, she left down the hall on their right, disappearing into a classroom at the end. Frisk stood uncertainly in the crossroads, the walls seeming to tower indefinitely over them. 

    "Yo!" 

    They started and turned, hoping against hope that maybe--

    It was!

    "MK!" It was all they could do not to run to them. 

    "Yo Kris, we're gonna be late!" They barreled toward them, Frisk fully expecting them to fall and wincing in sympathy in preparation, but the impact didn't happen. MK turned and headed down the hall opposite of where Tori had gone.

    Now that they'd seen MK closer, they seemed taller. Older, maybe . . . could, could Frisk have gone forward in time? Lost memories of the past years? But that wouldn't explain why mom didn't know Sans, or why she and MK had both called them Kris. 

    "C'mon!" MK's voice echoed out the door. 

    With not much else to do, Frisk followed. 

    Kris had followed Toriel to the kitchen, eaten as they were bid, and headed with her to school. They almost mentioned detention when she brought up shopping after school a second time, but didn't bother. She pulled up before an unfamiliar building, one with interestingly shaped hedges, and trailed after her inside. 

    "Do you have everything? Yes, yes good," she fussed with their hair a little and smiled, though her brows were furrowed slightly. "Is everything okay, Frisk? You seem more quiet than usual today."

    She'd said it again. Frisk.

    Kris gave a nod in response.

    ". . . all right, my child," she said, a little reluctant to let the topic slide. "Have a good day, I shall see you after school," she trailed off, seeming to expect them to go somewhere. They didn't. "Um . . . Frisk? Are, you not going to class?" she looked past them to a nearby door, and Kris assumed that was where they were supposed to go. They nodded slightly and headed for it. "W, wait! My child," she rushed for them and knelt down, putting a hand on their shoulder. "Frisk . . ." her eyes searched theirs before letting out a sight. "Frisk, you know you can talk to me, if you so wish. If anything is bothering you, anything at all."

    Kris made no response, and Tori gradually pulled back her hand. 

    "If, if you do not wish to speak with me, I'm sure, maybe Papyrus, or," she paused a beat. "Or Asgore. Just, don't worry yourself too much, all right? Whatever it is."

    They internally noted that they had no idea who the first person she'd mentioned was, and acknowledged her sentiment before reaching for the door handle, pushing past her slightly to reach it. They weren't looking forward to class.

    A figure looked on from the darkness. From the full emptiness that encased all and nothing. It watched carefully. . . . . SOMETHING . . . IS STRANGE. The figure gazed between timelines. Between universes and resets and realities that sometimes didn't even quite exist yet.It looked, and narrowed the anomaly to two worlds. OH. The figure felt something like a smile wanting to form on it's scattered features. THIS . . . THIS IS QUITE INTERESTING . . . 

Chapter Text

    A small squeak of surprise and relief escaped Frisk as they saw Alphys at the front of the classroom.

    "Alphy!" They ran over to her. "I, need to talk to you," they said softly. 

    Alphys had jumped and taken a step back at Frisk's noise and approach, and when they looked at the rest of the classroom, they found everyone else somewhere in a state between shock and confusion. All but one who remained on her phone, uninterested in anything. 

    "Um, if . . . if that's, okay," they added slowly. 

    "I uh," Alphys adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. "Of course, Kris, but we're going to start class now. We can talk later."

    Frisk reluctantly made their way to an empty seat in the middle of the room next to MK, followed by stares. The bird creature in front of them twisted around to look at them. 

    "Well I never thought I'd see the day."

    ". . . huh?"

    "You were on time, Kris." The bird said, with the air of someone who'd made an impossibly important discovery. His tone was more than condescending. "And you emoted."

    Frisk shrunk down a little in their seat. "I, uh,"

    "Let them be, Berdly." A reindeer monster scolded from his left. She smiled back at Frisk. "I'm glad to see you on time! You didn't forget anything did you?"

    Frisk answered honestly with a shrug. 

    "Right, so uh, let's get started," Alphys tapped something into her computer and squinted at it for a moment. "We'll be getting a start on the group projects in just a couple of days, so you may want to start thinking about who you want to partner up with."

    Frisk felt slight panic at having to find and form a group out of complete strangers. Then remembered MK was there. And the reindeer hadn't seemed so bad. And looking around, they recognized Snowy and a Tem sitting at the front. And the monster on their left looked almost like--

    "Oh, oh dear." Alphys was staring at the base of the chalkboard with a frown. "Has anyone seen the chalk?" She held up the stub end of one. It had an odd jaggedness on one side. "This is all that's here . . . I'm certain there was still have a box left,"

    No one answered, but Frisk certainly didn't know, so they kept quiet as well. 

    The class crawled by about how one would expect it to. No one seemed particular enthralled by Alphys' teaching, except for the girl in the front row. The bird Frisk was behind was 'too smart' to pay much attention, unless there was a point her wanted to argue. MK had a bit of a short attention span, Temmie as well, but she seemed to be trying very hard. She probably wanted to get into a good college.

    At some point in the lecture, Frisk stopped taking notes and looked through the pad of paper that had been in their desk. It had haphazard quotes and diagrams, some dated and some not, with some days considerably more organized and thoughtful than others. Frisk turned to the back and flipped the book around, making a new beginning to it. They started penning all their observations. Differences and similarities, people that they'd recognized, and every explanation they could think of that might be true of whatever had happened to them. 

    There wasn't much in that column. 

    It didn't seem long before a semi distant bell sounded, and Alphys released everyone for lunch. 

    "Is ours broken?" Frisk wondered aloud.

    "Yo, you don't remember?" MK asked. "Susie totally busted the speakers last week! They still haven't been able to fix it yet." MK cocked their head. "Yo, Kris, you okay dude?"

    "Fine," Frisk answered briskly. "I gotta talk to Alphy."

    MK raised an eyebrow and gave a tiny nod. "Uh, OK, sure . . . see ya." And they trotted off after the others to what Frisk assumed would be the cafeteria somewhere. 

    Frisk stayed at their desk a moment, wondering if this was really the best idea. Alphys didn't seem to recognize Frisk as themselves, either. And if they told her everything . . . they carefully closed the notebook and flipped it back the other way, then made their way to Alphys' desk. 

    She was sitting behind her computer, munching on instant noodles. She didn't even seem to have noticed Frisk had stayed behind until she saw them get close to the desk. 

    "OH!" she scrambled frantically to do something on her computer and crossed and uncrossed her arms inconspicuously. "Kris I, I didn't realize you were still here. Um,"

    "I, wanted to ask," Frisk closed their eyes a moment, determined not to let the chance go by. "If . . . if you woke up, in a house you'd never seen before, and everyone you knew was still there, but different. And they all called you a name that wasn't yours. What would you think happened?"

    Alphys gaped at them a solid moment before forcing her mouth shut. "Kris that's um, a really, really odd and specific question that's uh, I don't, really know--"

    "Please, Alphy," Frisk pleaded. 

    Alphys blinked. "Well . . . um," she pushed her glasses up. "Different how?"

    Frisk tilted their head in question. 

    " 'Everyone is different' how?"

    "They . . ." Frisk paused a beat, carefully choosing their words. "They sometimes don't know each other, or you as you. And they're older, and have different jobs."

    "Hmm," Alphys leaned back in her chair. "So, like an alternate reality?"

    Frisk opened their mouth, then closed it. They hadn't thought of that. "An alternate . . . like, a different timeline?"

    "You could say that." She looked Frisk up and down, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you asking about this? It isn't for you detention assignment is it? You really should work on projects on your own, you know." She paused. "I mean, unless they're group projects."

    Frisk hastily accepted that as the easy cover and that they would do the rest of the assignment for themselves. Then, seeing as they had no idea where the cafeteria was, returned to their desk and absently munched on the sandwich Toriel had packed while they perused the earlier notes they'd taken.

    An alternate timeline. It seemed . . . possible, at least. Nothing like this had ever happened before, but then, they had never been able to SAVE until they fell into the Underground. Was it some kind of new ability that they'd used on accident? In their sleep though that seemed unlikely. Unless,

    They sat up stiff as a board. Their first SAVE point, had been because they fell. They'd died, and that had released their will to live. Had something . . ? Could they have died at home? On the surface? Is that why the magic was different?

    Alphys peered around her computer at them. "Kris? Are you alright?"

    Frisk deliberately set their sandwich down and swallowed the mouthful they had. "Yes."

    ". . . are, you sure?"

    "Yes."

    ". . . . . . . . are--?"

    They both jumped as the door to the classroom suddenly slammed open and back into the wall. A monster Frisk had never seen before stood in the doorframe, looking the room over. 

    "O-oh! Susie! Uh, it's actually, um, lunchtime, if you--?"

    'Susie' turned and stalked off, leaving the two occupants of the classroom slightly jarred. Alphys regained her composure and muttered to something while quickly re-immersing herself in whatever content her computer held. Frisk shook their head and tried to regain focus on the problem at hand. 

    If . . . they swallowed hard. If they had died, and somehow transported themselves to another timeline, as a result . . . could they ever get back? Could they ever get home?

Chapter Text

     Kris sat quietly all of class, speaking when spoken too but offering little else. The monsters present were friendly and appeared to have a good relationship with whoever they were, but they didn't put any extra effort into keeping it that way. When lunch was signaled they followed the crowd to a cafeteria and found an obligatory corner to sit in, pulling up the lunch this strange Toriel had made. It didn't take long before various monsters came by, question their seat choice and offering enthusiastically either for Kris to sit with them or for them to join Kris' table. They gave decisive glares to these good doers, and all hastily made up ways to excuse themselves. All but one. 

    "YO!" 

    Kris watched with detached amusement as MK fell flat on their face, the lunch box they'd had balanced on their head clattering to the floor. 

    "Haha, whoops," MK pushed themselves up and grabbed the lunch box, setting it none-too-gently on the table near Kris. "Yo, you got a fruit snack? I'm so jealous," they clicked their box open and made a face. "My mom only packed 'healthy' food today." They perked up a little. "Hey! Wanna trade something?"

    ". . ."

    "I think that's a yes." MK responded, looking over what Kris had. "Yo you like carrots, right? Three sticks for a--"

    Kris made a quick counter offer. Three carrot sticks, and,

    "Y-yo, what?" MK might've taken a step back had they been standing. "You, you want--?"

    "GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS FELLOW KIDS!!"

    Kris jumped at the boisterous voice, the source not taking long to find. 

    "Yo! H-hi, Papyrus." MK still seemed put off by their request.

    "HELLO MY VERY FAST LITTLE FRIEND!" The skeleton monster leaned down a little and grinned whole heartedly at MK. "I HOPE YOU HAVE SOMETHING DELICIOUS FOR LUNCH! OF COURSE, IT COULD ALWAYS BE MADE BETTER IF IT WERE COOKED BY THE SEASONED AND EXTREMELY WELL PRACTICED MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS!!"

    "Well, yeah." MK answered matter-of-factly, appearing much more at ease. "You are the coolest."

    "INDEED! YOU ARE A VERY COOL KID YOURSELF!" 

    MK smiled and turned to get a face full of their lunch while Papyrus turned his attention to Kris. 

    "WHY IS IT YOU AND FRISK ARE SO FAR OFF FROM THE CENTER TODAY? THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALMOST COULD NOT--" he stopped short, looking Kris over with a puzzled expression.

    Kris held their breath. He knew. 

    "UM. THAT IS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALMOST COULD NOT FIND YOU! BUT!!" he pulled one arm up at incredible speed, pointing to himself. Whatever he'd noticed seemingly forgotten. "IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE I DID! NYEH HEH HEH!"

    "Ah, here you are, my child."

    Kris sighed inwardly. So many people.

    Tori reached their table as well and sat down beside them. "Greetings, Papyrus. How has class been?"

    "OH!" Papyrus sat down and excitedly began relaying all about his 'ingenious' plans for some kind of puzzle, one that he for some reason enunciated would absolutely not include any kind of steam vents or conveyor belts. He and MK got into a heated debate about the best types of puzzles, and Tori took the opportunity to lean closer to Kris. 

    "Frisk, dear . . . I wanted to talk further, about this morning. If something is wrong, I should very much like you to speak with someone about it. Even if that someone is not me." She added, glancing past them to Papyrus. "I just, want to make sure you're all right,"

    Kris told Tori they were fine. Completely themselves. 

    "Oh, of course you are yourself," she supported, quickly turning her slightly puzzled expression into a small smile. "I was not worried about that, my child." She turned her gaze to the clock that sat in the top middle of the far wall. "Oh dear, it is almost time for next period," she bent slightly to give Kris a kiss on the forehead before leaving. 

    "OH MY! LUNCH IS OVER ALREADY? WELL!!" Papyrus jumped up from his seat, nearly toppling the entire table in the process. "I'M SURE WE SHALL ALL HAVE A SPLENDID REST OF THE DAY! I SHALL SEE YOU TWO AGAIN LATER!"  

     "Bye Papyrus!" MK called after the skele-man as he flounced off. "What a guy . . ."

    Kris leaned over the table. They looked intently at MK, and asked who he was.

     "H-huh? Pf," MK shrugged it off. "I dunno what kind of joke you're planning, dude, but I won't fall for it! Papyrus is your best friend, after me." They added, tossing wrappers and half finished vegetables back into their pack.

    Kris' hand shot out and grabbed the box, keeping them from leaving. They asked where Papyrus lived.

    MK shivered a little involuntarily at the look in their eye. "Yo, uh, what are you playing at, Frisk? He and Sans live right close to you, right?" They forced themselves to laugh a little while trying to edge their box out of Kris' grip. "This some kinda test?"

    Kris released the lunchbox and sat back, looking down at their own food. "Yes."

Chapter Text

    Frisk scribbled doodles absently, both wanting class to be over so they could have a real opportunity to try and figure out what had happened and dreading when they would. They had no idea where to start, and a large part of them feared what they might find. They weren't sure how long they'd zoned out when they were suddenly jolted back by the sounds of chairs scraping. Class was dismissed. 

    They realized a moment later that they had detention, and that they'd no idea where they should go. Not wanting to cause a scene or receive more mean comments from Berdly, Frisk hurried out with everyone else, keeping close by MK and waiting for everyone to split off before asking where detention was. 

    MK gave them a funny look. "Huh? Um, are you sure you're okay, Kris?"

    There it was again. What kind of person were they supposed to be? 

    "Yeah . . . tired." It wasn't a lie, at least.

    "Uh, okay," they didn't sound convinced. "And I think it's usually in the unused classroom."

    "Oh . . . where's that?"

    MK stopped walking and turned around to squint at them. They looked around before heading back the way they'd come. Frisk followed, pausing when they stopped to open a small set of dark double doors. 

    "C'mon. In here."

    Frisk highly doubted this was the way to detention, but even if this were an alternate timeline, they trusted MK knew what they were doing. Frisk obeyed and found themselves and very small closet, walls lined with shelves all <strike>chalk</strike> chock-full of various school and cleaning supplies. 

    "Uh, MK, why--?"

    MK closed the door behind them, the only illumination in the room now creeping in from underneath the door. It took a few moments to adjust their eyes. 

    MK turned squarely to face them. "What's up?"

    ". . . huh?"

    MK rolled their eyes and leaned back against a wall. "We've been in class together forever, I know how you are. And you haven't been . . . I don't know, you haven't been you today. What's up?"

    Frisk almost cried in relief. They might not be the exact same friends, and they might all know them as someone else, but they cared just how they did before. Tori had made them lunch and gotten them off to school, Alphys had done her best to help them when they asked, and MK had seen through their would-be facade. They might not be the same monsters, but had the same hearts. 

    "I--" Frisk's voice caught.

    MK's scowl deepened, but they stayed quiet while Frisk took a second to steady themselves.

    "I'm, very sorry, but I can't tell you."

    MK was looking more confused and concerned by the second. "You're, sorry?"

    Frisk bowed their head, taking the wrong meaning. " 'Real sorry MK, it's nothing, wrong, really," they said slowly, their insides twisting at having to hide something from one of their best friends, particularly when they were willing to help. "I, I know you want to help but, there isn't really a way you can," Frisk almost flinched at their own words. That sounded mean. "It's, you don't have to worry about it, mkay?" 

    MK kept their eyes on them, gears turning. ". . . alright. Whatever you say," They turned to leave, waiting a moment before opening the door. "If you think of something though, let me know, okay?"

    Frisk nodded. "Okay. Thanks, MK."

    They looked back at Frisk, frowning in thought. "I . . . you're, you, are Kris, right?"

    Frisk couldn't make themselves refute the direct question, especially when that's all they had wanted anyone to ask them all day. They fell down on their knees and cried, shaking their head. 

    "W-woah! Hey! Um," MK knelt down beside them. "I was kind of joking, dude. Uh. What's happening?"

    Frisk held their face in their hands, feeling the hot tears pool up and run down their arms. "N-n-n-not K-Kris." They stuttered, moving their arms to hold themselves tight around the middle. 

    MK leaned against them and nuzzled their shoulder a little, trying to console them. ". . . Um . . . what . . . what IS your name?"

    Frisk picked up their head, looking at the dim and blurry older version of MK, the word's they'd said bringing up one of many painful memories. ". . . Frisk," they sniffed, rubbing their eyes. "M' name's Frisk."

Chapter Text

    " 'Frisk' ?"

    Frisk nodded miserably, immensely thankful at being called by their own name, it felt like it'd been such a long time. That had happened in the Underground too.

    MK looked almost like they were trying to assess something. ". . . what happened, Frisk?"

    Frisk shook their head, holding back another sob. "D-dunno I just, I woke up, here, instead of home."

    "Where is home?"

    Frisk shrugged half heartedly. "Not here . . . by Mount Ebott, with the others."

    MK scowled, but moved on. "So did you and Kris, are they there, then? Did you guys switch places?"

    Frisk froze. Had they? They'd never thought about what had happened to the person who's life they'd taken over. What if Kris was in their life? Frisk's breath caught as their mind wheeled through everything they'd been able to piece together since that morning of who they were supposed to be. Someone who was often late to class and had detention. Someone with a room bare of any unnecessary belongings. Someone who, according to classmates, rarely ever even made expressions. Someone that seemed painfully familiar to the grinning child in their nightmares. 

    If they were in Frisk's home . . .

    Kris went through the motions of the day, resisting the urge to tease a handful of monsters when they made it almost too easy for them. They didn't need to stir up trouble. Not today. 

    Classes finally wrapped up, and Kris weaved through the crowd heading outside. They stopped by one of the hedges, which, they now realized, was shaped like the very monster they were waiting for, and looked through the sea of faces waiting for the tall figure to emerge. After several minutes, and the crowd thinning down to a trickle, they didn't think they'd find Papyrus this way. But they were pretty sure they could get back to the house they'd woken up in this morning, maybe once there they'd be able to find where he lived, MK'd said it was close by. They'd turned to go when Toriel's voice called out.

    "There you are, my child! I've been looking for you."

    Kris turned back around and found Toriel smiling as she approached them. She looked around, as if they might have been with someone. 

    "Were you, going somewhere?"

    Kris shook their head.

    "Ah. Well," she knelt down, still showing that warm smile. "I'm going to stop by the store before heading home, if you would like to accompany me?"

    Kris almost sighed, but supposed it couldn't be helped. They gave her a nod and allowed themselves to be led back to her car. 

    They would find Papyrus later.

    "Kri-? Uh, Frisk? Hey, hey hey hey it's okay, it's alright,"

    Frisk realized that they were on their back, staring up at MK's face and the ceiling. They shivered involuntarily as faint tremors washed over them. That face. That feeling. Everyone they met, everyone they'd grown to love and cherish, cut down into dust. The phantom grit coating their hands made them tense up and spasm even more. 

    "Frisk. Breathe." MK ordered, rubbing against their face. "I dunno what you're seeing but, it's okay."

    Frisk knew they were breathing, but it absolutely didn't feel like it. They forced themselves to focus, feeling their chest rise and fall in what slowly returned to a more steady rhythm. They blinked their tears away and made eye contact with MK. 

    "You alright?"

    They gave a shuddery nod and hesitantly pushed themselves up to a sitting position, leaning carefully on some of the shelves. Their gaze flicked around to anything and everything in the room as they tried to distract themselves. MK sat against the opposite wall, looking them over. 

    "Yanno, not sure I'm the best person to handle this, that happens to my sister sometimes but, doesn't mean I'm a doctor or nothing." MK offered a little smile. ". . . anybody else know about all this?"

    Frisk shook their head. 

    "OK, um," they looked at the door. "Probably about time for detention to start, if it hasn't already." They turned back to Frisk. "I guess, you didn't really do anything to deserve it, but,"

    "I'll, go." Frisk responded, last jittery feelings fading.

    "You sure?" MK looked concerned. "Will you be okay?"

    Frisk forced a smile. "I'm fine. That, that happens, sometimes."

    MK nodded slowly. "Right . . . um, I can see, if I can come over later today? If you want."

    They breathed out a sigh of relief. "Yes, please, MK."

    MK nodded again and stood up. "Alright. And, you really should tell someone else, besides me,"

    Frisk bit their lip. "I . . . yeah."

    Their friend opened the door carefully, looking out. "No one's around, you could probably skip out if you wanted."

    "No . . . I don't think, Toriel would like that."

    MK chuckled. "Yeah, probably not. Alright, if you're ready." 

    Frisk rose to their feet and nodded. 

    "It's this way."

    MK lead them to the room where detention was held, checking again that they were alright before leaving with a promise to stop by later. Frisk took a final breath to steady themselves before pushing open the door. They'd just focus on detention for now. Just focus on this, and then worry about everything else once they got back with MK. Maybe they could talk with Toriel tonight and--

    "Well if it isn't the freak."

    Frisk jumped and found themselves face to face with the purple monster who had come to class in the middle of lunch period. What had Alphy said her name was?

    "So, Kris," She looked down at them from between her bangs, grinning something fierce. Frisk felt their heart sink at the familiar feeling of confrontation. "What're you in for?"

Chapter Text

    As luck would have it, Papyrus went to the store after school as well. They ran into him shortly after getting a carriage, where one of the advertisements at the end of an aisle was proclaiming a discount on a specific brand of noodles. 

    "OH! HELLO TORIEL! AND, FRISK!"

    Kris noted his pause. They also noted a rather large bundle of blue fabric in the seat of his cart. It seemed asleep.

    "Hello again, Papyrus." Tori smiled at him. "Oh, is there a sale?"

    "YES!" he seemed very excited. "I HAVE NOT YET TRIED THIS PARTICULAR SELECTION OF PASTA, IT IS THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY! NYEH HEH HEH!"

    "yeah, wouldn't want to let the chance get pasta." said the blue fabric.

    Toriel laughed at the joke, but Papyrus was practically seething.

    "BROTHER! PLEASE! DON'T PLAGUE OUR SHOPPING TRIP WITH UNHUMOROUS JOKES!"

    "what are you talking about? got two humerus' right here." the fabric lifted up two things that may have been arms.

    Papyrus growled and stomped off down the aisle to retrieve his noodles, leaving the carriage and his brother behind.

    Toriel was still giggling. "I liked your jokes, Sans."

    "thanks tori. you're always a good audience."

    "I'll gladly give a penne for your thoughts any time, my friend."

    The fabric snickered and made its way into a more monstery shape, a rounded skull emerging from the top. 

    "couldn't resist shellin' some out, couldja?"

    Toriel laughed again, and Sans looked down to find Frisk. He didn't find Frisk.

    Kris couldn't help shrinking a little under the stare this other skeleton was giving them. He knew too. And he wasn't nearly as okay with it as Papyrus had been. 

    "Whale if you want to fish for other themes, I-" she stopped, seeing Sans' expression. "Sans?"

    "hm." He looked up at her, but Kris felt like he was still watching them. 

    "Are you quite alright?"

    "we've been over this, tori, i'm half right, half left."

    Toriel chuckled, and just then Papyrus came back with an armful of boxes.

    "that's a lota pasta, bro."

    Papyrus took a beat before responding, trying to find a pun and suspicious when he couldn't. He dropped the load into the carriage. "YES, I WANT TO USE DIFFERENT SAUCES AND SIDE DISHES WITH EACH TO FIND THE ULTIMATE CULINARY COMBINATION FOR THESE PARTICULAR NOODLES!"

    "careful you don't spiral into obsession there, Pap."

    Papyrus huffed and put his hands on his hip-bones. "BROTHER IF YOU DO NOT CEASE PUNS I SHALL EVICT YOU FROM THE SHOPPING THRONE AND YOU SHALL HAVE TO WALK!"

    Sans held up his hands in defeat. "alright, alright. no need to pull out threats." He made pointed eye contact with Kris on his last word, and the human crept back behind Toriel.

    "GOOD, I AM GLAD THAT YOU'VE LISTENED TO REASON." Papyrus stepped back to the front of the carriage. "SADLY WE MUST PART WAYS. BUT! IF YOU, OR FRISK, WISH TO TASTE THE GREAT PAPYRUS' WONDROUS AND VERY WELL MADE COOKING YOU CAN FEEL FREE TO STOP BY ANY TIME YOU LIKE!"

    "Oh, uh," Tori gave a slightly nervous smile. "Thank you, Papyrus. We'll keep that in mind."

    Papyrus grinned and crouched over the bar. "NOW. TO THE SAUCES!!"

    Kris' hair whipped around their face as Papyrus launched with the carriage off down the store, adeptly maneuvering to avoid other customers and displays but still managing to leave a bit of a ruckus behind him. 

    "Well," Toriel looked down at Kris. "That was certainly nice of him. Perhaps we could make some pasta for tonight as well? What do you think?"

    Kris told her it didn't matter to them. 

    "Why don't you pick out some noodles? I'll look through the vegetables and come back here to get you." She patted their head and headed toward the fresh produce area, leaving Kris alone. 

    They contemplated going after Papyrus, but his brother had not like them at all, and they didn't particularly want to be near him again. They could see if Sans left Papyrus at home, once they found the house. Or find a time to talk to him during school, when Sans definitely wouldn't be there. It would work out. 

    Kris padded down the aisle, looking over the hundreds of boxed pasta without really seeing them. This was different. They'd never been anywhere else when It happened, just watched from the backseat of their mind. And no one had ever noticed anything was different, that they weren't themselves. 

    But these two knew. These brothers weren't fooled like the rest of them. Whatever had been happening, they must have answers. They might even know a way to stop it. Kris had to talk to Papyrus, alone. 

    "hey there, kiddo."

    Kris jumped at the voice so close to their ear and spun around so fast they fell to the shiny tiled floor, and found themselves looking up at a dangerous grin. Sans leaned down closer to them, eye sockets devoid of the lights that had been there before. 

    "why don't we have a chat."

Chapter Text

    Frisk gulped and took half a step back. "U-uh, I--"

    Susie scoffed and turned around to lean on the wall beside the door. "Doesn't matter. I'm sure it wasn't anything good."

    Frisk took a shuddery breath, glad she wasn't going to make them fight. They almost automatically said something about that if it had been something 'good', it wouldn't have landed them in detention, but thought better of it and kept their mouth shut. They carefully made their way past her, and found . . .

    "Toys?" their brow furrowed in mild confusion. There were playing cards, puzzle pieces, a chessboard, all sorts of things to play with. Frisk had never been to detention before, but they were pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be anything like this. There was another student chittering to themselves as they gave a rather sad looking cat stuffy a pat on the head. 

    "Acting as though you have amnesia isn't going to get you out of work, Kris." An irritated teacher said from the other side of the room. He pulled out papers and clipboards, giving one to each of them. "I'd like explanations of what you did to land yourselves here, with sincere apologies and how you intend to not do anything like it again. Front and back. I've somewhere to be today so if you finish before time, and it's satisfactory," he added, squinting at them all. "You may leave. Begin."

    Oh boy, Frisk stared blankly at the paper, an expression it returned as only paper could. They had no idea what Kris had done to deserve them being here, so they couldn't very well explain and apologize for it, let alone in two full pages. They took a chance, and raised their hand.

    The teacher didn't look up from the laptop he'd opened a few moments prior, but gave a small sigh. "Yes?"

    Apparently Kris was one for posing troublesome questions in detention.

    "Um, I was wondering, i-if you'd like it double spaced?"

    Susie and the other monster both immediately glared daggers at Frisk, and they shivered as the weight of their sin settled heavy on their back. I shouldn't have asked that I shouldn't have asked that I should not hav--

    He blinked over the screen at them. "You know, most kids take the lack of clarification for a 'yes', instead of prompting a 'no'."

    "You're dead." Susie growled softly. The other monster began angrily scrubbing at what they'd already written with their eraser. 

    Frisk winced and mouthed 'sorry' for the two of them.

    "But, again, seeing as I've somewhere to be, go ahead." He turned his attention back to the screen. 

    All three students perked up at the significant lessening of their work. Frisk breathed out a sigh of relief, but still didn't know what they should fill the page with. They frowned a little when they realized they'd have to use Sans' way. They'd only made the mistake of asking him for help with homework a handful of times, when they were extremely stuck and no one else was around. He'd wink and go on and on about nonsense that was so general it could almost work for anything. It wouldn't ever get them a good grade on a research or topical discussion paper, but, just maybe,

    Frisk set to work using their neat blocky writing to give an overview on how misbehaving was bad, and people shouldn't disobey school rules or teachers. They used several examples that they thought Kris might be guilty of doing, and almost tried working a pun or two into it to gain some more length, but decided that probably wasn't the best idea. They made sure to leave out contractions, and wracked their brain for some of the longer words that they knew how to use properly. They ended with asking forgiveness for their transgressions (feeling very proud of themselves for that, and being almost certain they spelled it correctly) and promising to work toward making themselves a better student. There was under a third of a page left when they finished, and they prayed it would be enough.

    The other two were still writing--well one was, Susie was chewing her pencil and looking fairly zoned out--so Frisk decided to wait on handing it in, not wanting to be the one who asked a dangerous question and the first to go up. They looked over their work twice, then carefully unclipped it from the board and got up to their feet, padding softly around the cluttered toys on the floor and feeling the eyes of the other two students boring into the back of their skull. 

    The teacher's tapping keys stopped and he squinted over the screen at them. "Finished?"

    Frisk nodded and extended the paper out for him to examen. 

    He held it a little away from him and had one eyebrow raised the entire time. Frisk watched his eyes drift back and forth, squeezing the clipboard to their chest with anticipation. Both eyebrows went up at one point on the back side, probably at 'transgressions', and he finally looked up at Frisk. 

    "Awfully vague, Kris. Did you forget which prank it was that landed you in detention this week?"

    They held their breath. 

    "Frankly I'm surprised you wrote this much this fast. Aside from the generalizing, it wasn't half bad." He gave a small nod toward the door. "You can go. I won't be letting you off so easy next time you're in here, though."

    Frisk almost laughed with relief. "Th-thanks!" They held out the clipboard and scampered out of the room, leaving fairly confused expressions on everyone else in their wake.

    ". . . 'Kris seem . . . off? To you two today?" he asked after a moment. 

    "How should I know?" Susie countered, punctuating her question by snapping her pencil in two with a decisive crunch. 

    The teacher narrowed his eyes. "I hope you can still use that to write your paper with, Susie. Or we're going to be here a very long time." 

    Frisk headed down the hall, pleased with themselves and wondering if there was any chance MK was still around the school. Probably not, it was pretty deserted. They slowed their pace and looked around more carefully. There was always something about schools after hours that made it feel like a completely different place, like anything could happen. They reached the merge to the main hall and turned left, trying to mentally map out which way would get them back to the house they'd woken up in that morning. They were fairly certain they could get most of the way, at least. And if there were still people around they could always ask for directions. 

    They froze. The bristling, skin crawling feel of being watched washed over them and they spun around to find . . .

    A closet.

    They squinted at it suspiciously. The feeling had diminished some, but it was still there. In fact it was, incredibly familiar. It was almost like, that one passage, back in Waterfall,

    "Kris?"

    Frisk jumped and turned back, finding Toriel headed toward them. 

    "I was just on my way home," she looked past them down the hall toward the unused classroom. "Is detention over already?"

    "Uh, yeah he, I finished the paper so he said I could go."

    "Really?" she smiled at them. "Well, if you're released then I suppose we should both head home."

    Frisk felt tears beginning to prick at their eyes. They wished like anything it was their Toriel saying that, and they were going home home. They closed their eyes, giving her a nod. 

    "Let us go, then." She reached down and took their hand, leading the way out. "What should we have for dinner tonight?"

    The figure watched Frisk walk away. 

    NO ONE SEES, he mused to himself, intrigued. He turned his attention back to the other reality. 

    EXCEPT,

    Kris was still on the floor, staring up with unease at the skeleton radiating menace before them. 

    FOR THEM. OF COURSE IT WOULD BE THEM . . .

Chapter Text

    Kris swallowed, but didn't dare move other than that. 

    "gon lie around on the floor all day?" Sans questioned, holding out a gloved hand. 

    Kris stared at the hand. They looked back at his pupil-less eyes. It didn't seem like the best idea—

    Before they could do anything he reached down and grabbed their sleeve. Kris' breath was sucked out of them as the world lurched and disappeared into darkness. They might have screamed at the grinning, half melted face that was staring at them as they were pulled by, but the place was devoid of all sound. 

    The world popped back into existence and Kris stumbled down onto their knees, breathing hard and staring in the same direction they'd seen the face. Their skin bristled as they realized: they'd felt the gaze of that face the entire time they had been here. Watching intently from a place it could not be seen in turn.

    Were they behind it? Was—?

    "kid."

    Kris started and found Sans was crouched a short distance away, staring at them with his eyelights returned. It seemed he'd tried to get their attention several times. Kris didn't know where they were, somewhere outside. The ground sloped up on one side of them and down on the other. 

    ". . . never been through a shortcut, apparently." he said to himself, pushing up and slipping his hands in his pockets. He looked off to the side. "so. what's your name?"

    They thought about lying. But even if he hadn't known they weren't Frisk already, there had been too many times in their life they hadn't been able to answer a question like that themselves. 

    "Kris."

    " 'kris' ." Sans repeated, turning his gaze back to them. "and where's the kiddo?"

    "Frisk?" they asked. "Don't know."

    "heh," 

    They gasped as a weight in their chest suddenly made them feel too heavy to hardly move. It felt horribly similar to—

    "don't lie to me, kris."

    "I'm not lying." Kris gasped out quickly, beginning to sweat a little. They told him they didn't know how they were here or who had been taking over, that he and his brother were the first ones to notice when they weren't themselves. That they'd hoped he would have answers.

    Sans narrowed his eyesockets. "what are you getting at, kid."

    Kris' shoulders slumped a little. Then he didn't know. Of course he didn't. No one would ever—

    “ ARE YOU THERE? ”

    Their head pounded as a flash of something not dissimilar to Sans’ “shortcut” pierced through their memory.

     “ . . . CREATE A VESSEL. "

    They doubled over, a horrible feeling flooding through them. They recalled the face from moments ago, and was inexplicably certain that the voice belonged to it. 

    They looked up at Sans, who didn’t seem particularly concerned, and asked who it was.

    He was certainly concerned now. The lights in his sockets sputtered out and the heaviness in their chest lifted. "what?"

    "In the darkness between here and the store. The grinning man with a lopsided face."

    "WHAT?"

    Kris sighed. So he didn't know that, either. 

    "you, you're telling me," Sans aggressively rubbed at his skull. "that you don't know what happened to frisk, or you, and this has happened before, and you saw gaster just now?"

    Kris perked up. "Gaster?"

    "ugh," Sans sat none too gently and shook his head. "this is not what i thought i was in for when Paps said we were going on 'a shopping trip like no other' ."

    Kris crawled forward a little so they were closer and sat back on their legs. "Who is he?" they asked eagerly. 

    Sans raised an eyeridge at them. "long story there, pal. why don't you explain a little more about who you are first, huh?"

    Kris relented. They informed him about the town they'd grown up in, their divorced parents the teacher and the florist, their brother off at college, the Holidays, school. He didn't interrupt, but sat there watching them with wide eyes and a calculating gaze while they spoke. 

    ". . . and, when you say someone's been taking over," he prompted when they trailed off.

    Kris didn't want to talk about that. They always tried their best to not think about it whenever it wasn't happening, and sometimes even when it was. They relished the freedom to act impulsively whenever it was gone, regardless of consequence. Because the consequence would be their doing, something they had caused. 

    But, this was the first and only chance they had gotten to find out what had been causing it. And if they knew that, they were one step closer to putting an end to it.

    There was nothing else they wanted more. 

    So they told him. They kept their eyes down and twisted blades of grass between their fingers and told how every so often, a presence took over their body and soul. It moved them, spoke with their voice, did with their things as it pleased. Eventually Kris had taken to stop collecting any belongings, as there was always a high chance the presence would discard of it. There were few times when Kris could break free and do something on their own, but only briefly. They'd just had to wait, watching from the backseat as someone else lived out parts of their life, until the presence would leave. 

    Or, until nightfall. 

    Like with whatever magic Sans had done, they could feel that whatever was happening was connected to their soul. And, having grown up with monsters, knew a bit about how they could interact with it. After some experimenting, they'd figured out how to remove it from their body, and keep it away from them in the one belonging they still held: a small cage in a wagon. It was hard to do, and definitely not pleasant, but when disconnected from their soul, they could have control of their body again. It wasn't exactly something they could do when their mother was around, or anyone else for that matter, but for a few precious hours in the night they were free of it. And often by the time they accepted it back, the presence had left and wouldn't return again for a while. 

    Kris stopped speaking and twisted up another piece of grass, not wanting to look at Sans. They'd never told anyone before, and didn't know how he would take it. He probably wouldn't believe them. 

    ". . . this hasn't happened before, though." They added. "It's always been my body taken over. But, now it seems like I've been given control of someone else's. I don’t think Frisk is still here, though.” They paused, thinking. “Could, they be in my body? Like we switched places?” Kris looked up at Sans, finding him staring at them in disbelief. “. . . Sans?”

    “. . . heh. heheh. . .” he pulled a mittened hand up over his face and laughed harder.

    “. . . Sans . . ?”

    He clutched his skull with both hands and let himself fall to his back, chuckles subsiding. He dropped his arms out on either side of him and lay there, staring up.

    “so it’s true.”

    “What’s true?”

    “the time anomalies . . . the resets . . . everything,”

    He seemed to be more talking out loud than answering Kris’ question. They scooted to the side so they could see his face, but he didn’t look at them.

    “we really are insignificant . . .”

    “Sans?”

    It took a moment, but his eyelights drifted sideways to find them.

    “What are you talking about?”

    His gaze returned to the sky briefly before he closed his eyes. “forget it, kid.”

    Kris’ eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean ‘forget it’ ? You’re the first person who’s had any sort of idea of what the hell’s been happening to me and might be able to help me figure out how to make it stop, and you want me to just ‘forget it’ !?”

    Sans didn’t move. “yeah.”

    Kris stood up and grabbed his collar, lifting him up. “Listen, stele-man.” Kris hissed. “This might be the only chance I ever get. I’m not going to let you—“

    Sans opened his eye sockets a crack. “let me what? i don’t have an answer for you, kid. there isn’t one. to say we’re powerless against them would be puttin’ it lightly.”

    Kris stared down at him, taking a moment to register the reason he looked blurry all of a sudden was due to them crying. “What, do you mean,”

    Sans sighed and lifted their hands off his collar, standing in front of them on his own. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and looked skyward again. “sorry, kris. but there isn’t a solution.”

    “Who’s, who’s doing this to me?” Kris choked out, thrusting a fist across their eyes to remove the tears. “Why is it me,”

    “it’s not just you.” Sans was looking at them a little curiously again. “the kiddo everyone here thinks you are right now, frisk, it used to happen to them too.”

    Kris looked up at him with the tiniest spark of hope. “ ‘Used to’ ?”

    “yeah.”

    “What happened? How did they—?”

    “they finished the game. you can’t play past a credit scene, can ya? we were just lucky that this time everything didn’t reset. it’s been a while, there’s a chance it’ll stay this way, but it’s just as likely everything will be wiped out and start over again.”

    Kris felt cold. A horrible dread was sinking through their body, heatwaves chased by shivers. “. . . game?” they whispered, fearing his response.

    “yep. everyone, all our lives, everything we have in them, none of it is real. we’re all pieces in somebody else’s game.” He stared at them. “and a piece can’t revolt against the player.”

Chapter Text

    “But, I did,” Kris stuttered out.

    Sans didn’t blink. “hm?”

    “I did, revolt against them," Kris said, using his word. They clutched the front of their shirt. “They can’t control me when my soul is—“

    “think that’s a long term solution?” Sans questioned, turning away from them. “think that’ll do anything to help you when they decide to reset the world? or give you a direct order?” he paused. “or when they figure out how to stop what you’ve been doing?”

    Kris felt like they couldn't breathe.

    “trust me, kid." He said after a moment, a little quieter. "i’ve been looking into all this for a long, long time. there’s nothing we can do.”

    They didn’t say anything for a minute. Both stood silently between the trees, the wind spiraling around them. This was far worse than any of the options they'd thought up. When Kris finally found their voice, they asked about Gaster.

    Sans didn't answer right away. “what about ‘im.”

    “Who is he?”

    “. . . that’s a bit of a loaded question.”

    “Please,”

    Sans looked them over, once, twice. He pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed at the back of his skull. “. . . look. that’s not really somethin’ i can just explain no problem. and Papyrus and tori are gonna notice we left if we don’t get back.”

    He started to approach them but they took a step backwards.

    “Are you going to use the ‘shortcut’ again?” they questioned accusingly.

    “i mean, yeah. we’re a bit far from town, kid.” he nodded past them, up the hill. “entrance to the underground’s up there.”

    Kris frowned and turned to look. “What’s the Undergr—?” They gasped as their vision swept away from them a second time. Kris saw a white dot amid the void, growing larger impossibly fast, and squeezed their eyes closed so tightly it made them ache. They did not want to see that horrible face again.

    The familiar bustling noises of the store filled their ears, seeming horribly loud after the impossible silence of the quick journey there.

    “Oh! There you are.”

    Kris glanced at Sans just behind them before looking back to Toriel.

    “Hi.”

    “Is anything the matter? Sans?”

    “nah." Sans waved off her concern. "kid wanted to ask Paps somethin’ about the noodles, was just bringing them back.”

    “I see, thank you.” She smiled warmly at them. “Do you know which you’d like for dinner, then?”

    Kris fought the urge to look back at Sans again. “Yes." They responded through their teeth. "I’ll get it.” They turned on their heel and pushed past the skeleton, stalking toward the pasta aisle.

    He could keep his secrets for now. They were going to find a way out of this.

    Gaster had seen infinities during his time outside reality, but it was a rare case indeed for him to be seen. That coupled with the so far unexplainable switch . . . 

    THIS MAY PROVE EVEN MORE INTERESTING THAN I FIRST THOUGHT. He swept his windows to other timelines away, singling out these two worlds.

    I WILL BE WATCHING YOU . . . CLOSELY . . .

Chapter Text

    Frisk sat semi-patiently at the table, waiting for dinner to finish. It smelled so good. They had helped make the cheese sandwiches, and the tomato soup was just about done. Toriel set their bowl and plate in front of them and then brought over her own.

    “Mmm,” Frisk was practically drooling, and quickly sopped up some soup with the corner of their sandwich. “Thank you!” they managed just before stuffing it into their face.

    Toriel gave them a rather odd expression in response, and Frisk realized that probably wasn’t something that Kris would do. In fact she’d probably given them that same look when they’d volunteered to help, and they just hadn’t noticed. It hit them all over again that they were somewhere else, someone else, with no idea how to fix it. It had just felt so normal helping Tori make dinner, the routine of it had almost let them forget anything was wrong.

    “Of course,”

    Frisk drank some of the soup, about burning their tongue in the process, and quietly ate some more of their sandwich.

    “. . . do you think, could a friend come over for a bit, after dinner?”

    Tori about choked on her food. She looked over at them. “A friend?”

    Frisk nodded, pushing the bread back and forth in the red liquid, watching the little swirls rotating around one another.

    “You, want to spend time with, with a friend?” she asked.

    Frisk lifted their head. “If, that’s okay?”

    Toriel’s surprise shifted to a softer expression. “Kris I, I’m not sure,” she looked to the clock. “It is getting a bit late, and it is a school night,” she brought her gaze back to Frisk, mulling it over.

    “It’s okay,” Frisk said, turning their attention back to their food. “I’ll, see them at school tomorrow anyways,”

    Tori seemed uncertain. “If, your friend’s parents did not mind, and you really want to Kris—“

    “No, it’s okay.” Frisk said again. They drained the rest of their soup straight from the bowl and picked up the last bit of their sandwich. “I’m kinda tired anyway.” They said, putting their dishes in the sink and the sandwich in their mouth. “Ih hfihnk Ih’ll gho

fo bheg.”

    “Oh,” Toriel gave a small nod. “Alright, my child. Do not forget to brush your teeth.”

    “Ih won’t.” Frisk promised, going firstly upstairs. They chewed thoughtfully, looking down the hallway. They’d gone immediately down to the kitchen that morning, hadn’t looked around at all. Frisk tilted their head and read over the titles on the bookshelf, one standing out.

    “Gerson,” Frisk glanced downstairs and slid the tome from its place, holding it under their arm while they investigated the rest of the hall. The drawer on the other side of their room held crayons, a discovery that made their heart ache from similar findings in their other world. They looked them over a moment, feeling like something was missing, but not sure what. Deciding it was the absence of flower seeds, Frisk quietly closed the drawer and moved on.

    Kris wasn’t talkative at dinner, a fact that apparently was concerning to this Toriel.

    “Frisk dear,” she said after a few moments. “I know, I’ve mentioned earlier but, if there is anything that is troubling you, please, let me know.”

    “I’m fine.” Kris enunciated. They didn’t want to talk about anything at all, and they certainly didn’t want to try and explain everything a second time, and to Toriel.

    Tori actually looked almost hurt, but she didn’t press them further. Kris scoffed down the rest of their noodles left the fork spinning in the bowl as they stood and left for Frisk’s room.

    “Uh! Are you going to bed? I, thought we might watch a movie or—“

    “Tired.”

    Kris closed the door behind them and leaned against it, sliding down slightly. They held their head in their heads, gripping their hair so tightly they thought it might rip out. They let their arms fall limp to their sides, pushing their thoughts back behind the wall.

    “Deal with it tomorrow.” They said to themselves, knowing if they wanted any useful amount of sleep, they had to start early. If they weren’t plagued by the presence, the player, the nightmares were something that always made it impossible to have any sort of decent night’s sleep. They’d lost track of the amount of times they’d given up after watching the time go by so painfully slowly for hours and hours.

    They crawled under the blankets and huddled up by the pillow, staring at the empty space on the other side of the room where their brother’s bed should have been. They wondered if they’d get any sleep at all here.

    It’s only you.

    Frisk’s breath hitched as they stared at their own reflection. There were similarities, details that when looked over they knew should be theirs. But as a whole, as a person staring back at them, this was not their body. Not their face.

    And the voice.

    “Is that you?” Frisk whispered, moving their eyes from the mirror. They’d heard from the voice very sparingly since they’d left the Underground, and for a while now it’d been silent. That narrator who had never really responded to them directly, but always helped them through battles and told them details about armor or items that they never would have known about on their own. They’d had suspicions about who it might be, but, had never been able to confirm it. The voice never answered their questions, only put into their own words what the two of them were seeing.

    The door is locked.

    “I see that,” Frisk muttered, though they were incredibly pleased. Having the mystery voice back and some of it’s same arguably useless commentary was wonderful. They had a thought and returned to the drawer.

    There are crayons in the drawer. Their labels have long faded, and there’s no green.

    “Oh!” That’s what had been missing. Interesting.

    A cactus. There’s not much to say about it.

    Frisk frowned slightly. “No? It’s not ‘tsundere’ ? Okay,” They went into the bedroom, finding some pajamas and putting Gerson’s book beneath their bed before going back downstairs to brush their teeth as promised. Toriel bid them goodnight from her reading chair, and they took the stairs back up two at a time. Frisk flopped down on their stomach and pulled the book back out toward them, climbing up on the bed. They shimmied down beneath the covers and set the tome down on their lap, opening up to the front page.

    There’s a signature.

    “There is.” Frisk breathed, tracing the large loops with their finger. They flipped through the pages, getting more and more excited with each. “This is the prophecy! And the history of the war, and finding New Home! And,” Frisk didn’t finish. If the narrator was who they thought they were . . . they turned the page quickly. “It’s all here,” they said softly, reaching the author’s flap in the back. Frisk frowned, reading it over and over.

    Seems he was inspired by a dream.

    “But,” Frisk was scowling so aggressively it was making their head hurt. “But it’s too detailed, too exact, and it’s all right he must . . . he must remember. He must know something.” Frisk snapped the book shut, cringing at the noise and nervously eyeing the door. “. . . I’ll find him tomorrow. Kris skips class enough, apparently. They won’t mind if I do once. I sat through their detention after all.”

    Their narrator didn’t say anything, so they took it as agreement. Frisk leaned way over and slid the book bad underneath the bed, not wanting to get out from the covers. They scooted back under the blankets fully and pulled the edge up over their shoulders.

    “. . . we’ll figure this out.” Frisk said softly, feeling more determined than they had in a long time. “Together. We’ll figure it out, and get back home. With mom, and, Paps, and . . .” the kid trailed off, their tiredness catching up to them.

     . . . . . I know you will.

Chapter Text

    Kris half woke up and ignored the world of the living, rolling to their other side. They bunched the pillow up under their face and tugged the blankets up around them. They’d confirmed they were themselves that morning and that was more than good enough for them to go back to sleep. They were vaguely aware of some early birds chittering to one another outside, but that wasn't about to stop them.

    “Kris!”

    That might.

    Toriel knocked on the door. “Kris it’s time to get up.”

    Kris sat up slowly, looking around. Sure enough, they were in their own bedroom. Wagon with cage at the foot of the bed, all of Azzy’s things on the other half of the room. They rubbed their eyes and looked down at themselves. Had it been a dream? No. Much too vivid. But then, why were they back? What had happened? Probably the same thing that had cause the switch in the first place, whatever that was. What if it didn’t happen again? How would they get more information out of Sans? And Papyrus?

    Toriel opened the door and looked in at them. She smiled. “I’m glad you’re up. Come on, breakfast is ready.” She ordered, leaving the room again.

    Kris hesitantly got up, pulling on clothes that weren’t pajamas. The outcome was a little haphazard, but they didn’t care. They’d been thinking a lot before they’d fallen asleep the night before, and they had an idea of where to start.

    “. . . have you, ever met someone named ‘Sans’?” Kris asked at the table.

    Tori gave them a look. “You mentioned them yesterday, who is Sans? Are they the friend you wanted over?”

    Kris narrowed their eyes. That kid had tried to have a friend over? Why the hell would they do that?

    “No,” they took a chance.

    “Which, if you’d like them over tonight you can Kris.” She added. “Just so long as their parent’s are alright with it.”

    Kris mumbled a response into their juice. Who would Frisk have invited over? Maybe it was Sans, and they were trying to figure out what had happened too.

    Toriel tilted her head as a signal to try again. “. . . what was that?”

    “I, maybe.”

    She resigned herself to that being the best answer she’d get, on that subject anyway. “Kris . . . about yesterday,”

    “I wasn’t feeling great.” They supplied, almost instinctively. It was their go-to response for when the presence—no, the player—did something out of character enough for them to get questioned about it.

    Tori crossed her arms on the table and leaned on them, looking her child over. “I, I’m worried about you, Kris. This seems to be happening quite a lot—“

    “I’m fine.”

    Toriel didn’t much like that response. It could be true, sure, but seemed to be used a lot more often when it was in fact the opposite.

    Frisk woke to their alarm and hit it off. They grumbled something and rolled out of bed, dragging their blanket and half of the sheet with them. They could untangle themselves . . . or they could just live here forever in their warm little cocoon. 

    “Frisk?”

    Frisk stirred at the voice and blinked, finding themselves on the floor. Ah, yes they’d rested their eyes. A truly dangerous game.

    They heard Toriel chuckle as she knelt down and pulled some of the bundle away from their face. “Here you are, my child.”

    Frisk smirked as they looked up at her, and then all the memories from the day before flooded back. “Mom!!” they jumped up, or tried to, but the blanket had a good hold on them.

    “It’s alright, you won’t be too late.” Toriel promised, helping them escape the cocoon. “May not be late at all if you hurry, and eat breakfast on the way.” She smiled and gave them a pat on the head before leaving the room.

    Frisk stood there a moment, mind whirling. How did they get back? Would it happen again? . . . they should find Sans. And their Alphys. One of them would know what was happening, or have some idea how to figure it out at least. But, thankfully now they were in their own timeline, and they were a lot less worried about everything. They thought about acting sick, and asking to go to the skelebro’s house for the day, but decided against it. They’d see Papyrus at school, and they could always go over for the second half of the day as a sleepover. Though, they had a feeling they wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night.

    The child hastily changed clothes, finding they were still wearing day clothes, and brought their bag downstairs with them.

    “Here we go, switch,” Tori instructed, taking their backpack from them and handing them a plate with toast and some sliced fruit. They headed outside, Toriel putting their lunch in their bag along the way to the car. Frisk carefully set the plate on the middle seat and climbed up to their own, buckling in before putting their breakfast on their lap. Toriel placed their bag on the floor of the passenger’s side and turned around to look at them

    “All ready?”

    Frisk nodded with a little smile, their mouth full.

    Tori smiled back and turned to face front again, starting up the car. Frisk chewed thoughtfully during the ride, but there wouldn’t be much they could do at school. They’d just have to get through the classwork, and then . . . then they’d get to the bottom of this.

Chapter Text

  Frisk was a few steps away from their classroom when a blue blur whirled around them, practically spinning them in a circle. They slid a little on the tiles when trying to get their footing back, but giggled and brushed the hair out of their face.

  “Hi Sans. What’s--?”

  “you’re back,” he commented casually. He was leaning against some lockers with the air of someone who hadn't moved for hours. His tone and posture may have been casual, but his eyelights were looking them over with dedicated precision.

   Frisk made a tiny noise of surprise. “You, you mean . . ?”

   Sans glanced at the classroom door on his right, then held out a hand to them. “ ‘know you’re an ‘honor student’ and all that but, care to skip class?”

   They were actually more than happy to, though they were a little bit apprehensive about technically missing two lessons in a row. They reached for Sans’ hand, bracing themselves for the shortcut that was sure to come. The world jolted away, and suddenly reasserted itself from a different place entirely. It took Frisk only a few moments to recognize it, and they clung to their bag’s straps tightly once they did.

   “Th-this is,”

   “so it’s definitely you then.” Sans said quietly, looking them over.

   Frisk turned to look at him, distress plain on their face. They didn’t like the mountain. It dredged up horrible feelings that they tried hard daily to forget. “Why here?”

   “sorry kiddo. it’s a good place for no one else to be around . . . frisk, don’t lie to me,”

   They shivered a little at his tone, but whatever he was going to ask they had no intentions of lying about.

   “did you cause that? did you change places with kris?”

   “You know their name?” Frisk asked.

   “we had a little chat.” He said in response, grinning his trademark grin.

   “Oh . . .” Frisk shook their head. “No. I’ve no idea how it happened, I just, woke up somewhere else. Everyone thought I was them.”

   Sans stared at them a moment before giving a shrug. “alright, i believe ya, kiddo. no idea what did cause it then, i take it?”

   They shook their head again. “I, was really hoping you or Alphys might have an idea.”

   “. . . no.” He sighed. “we can try and find out, if you’re free.”

   Frisk raised an eyebrow and wiggled their backpack a little.

   “heh. definitely you.” He confirmed unnecessarily, mussing their hair. “and it’s up to you kiddo. but if it happens again, i don’t know how long it’ll be before someone else notices.”

   Frisk focused wholly on their shoes, thinking hard. . . . what do you think?

   . . .

   Come on, please will you talk to me? This is important, Frisk resisted sighing at the lack of response, though they hadn’t really expected one. They thought it over. “. . . okay.”

   “you know where we’re going, then.”

   They raised their eyes to meet Sans’ and gave an affirmative nod, their mind made up.     

   “ok then.” He held out his hand again. “your carriage,”

   Frisk rolled their eyes with a smile and reached out to take it. In a moment, they were shivering slightly outside the skelebros’ house in the Underground. It felt so surreal being back here, so achingly familiar. But the monsters’ former prison had all but completely emptied out after the barrier was broken. It was left behind as a hollow shell of what once was, a tingling feeling a dead apprehension clinging to the air.

   Sans trudged through the snow to the back of the house, spinning a key on his finger. How he managed that over his gloves Frisk wasn’t sure. There seemed to be very recent footprints going back, and by the scuff marks they were Sans’. He must’ve come here to make some note about Kris.

   They almost bumped into him when he stopped a pace or two away from the door and turned back to look at them, grin a little more mischievous than usual.

   “hm. y’know, you could still be an imposter.”

   Frisk knew what was coming. “No, Sans--”

   “yea, i’d hate to let a complete stranger into my basement. say, you don’t happen to know any secret codewords, do y--?”

   Frisk gave him the best unamused face they had and crossed their arms. “I’m a stupid doodoo butt and the legendary fartmaster.”

   “heh. wow, not sure if those are titles you should be proud of or not--”

   “Just open the door , Sans.” Frisk told him, though they were smiling. “I still have a key myself, you know.”

   “that so?” he asked, turning around to unlock the workshop.

   Frisk tried resisting the urge to check, but didn’t hardly last a second. They pulled out their phone and looked over the keychain, finding the key gone.

   “heheh.” Sans pushed his hands back into his pockets and nudged the door open with a slipper. He looked back at them over his shoulder. “welp. let’s go, then.”

   “Kris! Hey!”

   Kris half turned to find MK running toward them. They really didn’t want to deal with Kid’s over exaggerated personality today, so they kept walking.

   “Hey,” they said quieter when they reached Kris’ side. “Sorry ‘bout calling you ‘Kris’, figured you didn’t want anybody else to know. And sorry about last night,” they gave a nervous smile. “I forgot I had to help my mom clean, there was no getting out of it. How’d things go?”

   Kris raised an eyebrow at them. “Oh. So it was you they invited.”

   MK squinted at them. “Huh? Uhhh . . . are you, back to yourself, then?”

   Kris didn’t respond, but rather stopped walking. “So, Frisk told you, what , exactly?”

   “Um, well,” they glanced back. “We, should probably get to class, I can tell you that later if you want . . ?” they didn’t quite seem to know how to act around them.

   Kris considered it and decided they may as well, seeing as they probably weren’t going to be able to convince MK to skip.

   Entering the classroom found them some unexpected greetings.

   “Oh, hey Kris.” Berdley sneered from the front row. “What, not overcome with joy at seeing our beloved teacher today?”

   “Cut it out, Berdley.” Noelle scolded from beside him.

   “What’s he talking about? What did they do?” Kris asked MK as the two took their seats.

   “You uh, well, Frisk was real excited to see Alphys yesterday,” MK explained. “Called her ‘Alphy’ .” They added.

   Kris all but facepalmed. That kid was certainly something else. “Great.” They muttered.

   “Okay, can we um, can we all just, settle down,” Alphys asked from the front of the room, heading over to close the door. “I’d like to--”

   Susie arrived just as she reached it, towering over the yellow monster.

   “O-oh! Susie! You’re uh, you’re just in time.” Alphys said with a nervous smile, stepping aside to let her in.

   Susie barely glanced at her, but stalked in and made her way past Kris to her desk.

   “I just wanted to remind you all before we get started, you’ll be choosing partners tomorrow for your projects--”

   Kris felt Susie leaned forward so much she was practically breathing down their neck.

   “That wasn’t very cool of you in detention yesterday Kris.” She growled quietly.

   Detention? Ah right, Frisk must have gone. They obviously had no idea what specifically she was referring to, though it was clear she was trying to be threatening. Kris hadn’t been overly intimidated by her beforehand, what with an invisible unknown being taking over their body periodically, and with everything they’d found out yesterday that amount was even less now.

   The class period passed without much more incident, though Berdley did make another comment when passing papers back. At lunch Kris found one of the usual unoccupied tables, and MK hesitantly joined them.

   “So uh,” MK looked them over for a second before continuing. “I’d noticed you weren’t acting like yourself, and then after class, Frisk asked about where to go for detention.”

   Kris stabbed their juice pouch and took a sip from it, motioning for them to go on.

   “Uhh, and, well they told me what they knew.”

   “Which was?” Kris prompted.

   “Not much,” MK admitted, pulling out a sandwich. “That their name was Frisk, they’d woken up in your place and no one seemed to know.” They paused a moment, and said their next piece quieter. “And, they’re from near Mt. Ebott.”

   Kris about choked on their drink. “They what ?”

   “That’s what they said.” MK took a bite of their sandwich.

   Kris licked their lips in thought. The place Sans had teleported them to . . .

   MK was watching their reaction. “They didn’t mean our Mt. Ebott though, did they?”

   “. . . no.” Kris responded, taking another sip of juice.

   “Kris,” MK leaned over the table. “What’s happening? Who were they, really?

   They drained the juice pouch, dropping the hollowed husk on the table before standing up. “No idea.” They answered half truthfully, leaving the table and a rightly confused MK behind.

   “Wait! Don’t--! Urgh,” MK sighed and bit into their sandwich. “Certainly back to themselves,” they mumbled.

   Kris left the cafeteria, walking the halls and passing just a few students who were rushing by to get to lunch. They didn’t expect there to be any problem in getting out of the school, and almost left via one of the side doors, but wanted to drop their lunch off in their locker first. Kris headed down the main hall, passing--

   Their blood froze and they spun around, staring at the doorway where the face had been seconds prior. That same, smiling, stark white face. Kris inched toward the double doors, staring them down.

   “. . . Sans thinks this is the player’s doing . . . but this is your fault, isn’t it?” Kris whispered to the unresponsive doors. They stood there a few moments more, not really expecting an answer, then spun on their heel and marched away.

   They needed to check something.

Chapter Text

   By all rights, the basement of a (mostly) abandoned house in the middle of a winter climate should have been frigid, but it was was actually rather toasty. Although, it wasn’t r eally a basement, just an odd room only accessible from out around the back of the house, but that’s what everyone called it. Long filament lights buzzed and clinked as they flickered on, illuminating the lilac tiles. Sans shuffled over to the alcove where the blueprints and some notes were, rearranging them a little and digging through a drawer in search of a pen. Frisk shivered a little despite the lack of cold. This room always had an odd feeling to it.

    “the truth is that you got owned, nerd.”

   Frisk had fallen to their knees after Papyrus left them in Sans’s room, tears forming quickly. They’d tried everything. Every combination, every order of puzzles, every ACT option they could think of, but it still was never enough. At the end, they always had to leave Asriel behind.

   They’d reloaded their save in Judgement Hall on a whim, and after some shenanigans, Sans had given them the key to his bedroom. They’d never been able to get in there before, and they’d been certain that it would hold some clue as to what they could do for the prince . . . but it ended up giving only more questions. After searching the room, they’d found the key to the basement, which contained only scribbled, illegible notes, a badge, a drawing, and a machine that appeared beyond repair. Nothing that could help them save Asriel.

   They’d reset again and again and again, but they couldn’t do it. They’d tried asking Sans, and even Alphys, for help, but the two always either refused or had no solutions. Eventually, the Player didn’t return anymore, and after utilizing the benefit of their absence in every way they could think of, Frisk had given up finding an answer Underground. They knew human wizards had created the barrier, so after reaching the surface they looked into anything and everything they could find that had information about them. They’d hoped against hope that there would be something they could use to get Flowey back to his old self, but had no more luck with that than anything else they’d tried.

   There was still nothing they could do for him.

    “. . . ya alright, kiddo?” Sans asked from a stool he’d pulled out from somewhere.

   Frisk tried clearing their head with a quick shake before answering. “M’fine.”

   Sans didn’t quite believe them, but let it go. “i haven’t been looking at the data much recently, what with us having you around now,” he said with grin, mussing their hair. “there didn’t seem to be anything odd when i checked after meeting your doppelganger yesterday, but we can take a closer look.”

   ‘A closer look’ meant Frisk. They should’ve thought to try that themself in all honesty, but they really didn’t like doing it. It just . . . reminded them how helpless they were. How at any moment they could be pulled along on strings again.

   Sans looked over a few stray pages until he found one with a blank side, then leaned his right elbow on the alcove workbench and rested his head in his hand. “ready when you are.”

   Frisk took a deep breath and braced themself, focusing on the last save point they’d used, not so far off in the Underground. There weren’t any on the surface. The kid swayed a little on their feet, struggling to connect to it. But it wasn’t too long before they heard the familiar phantom noise, and saw the save file appear in their mind’s eye. They started and literally dropped out of it, falling on their hands and knees.

   “frisk?” Sans slid off the stool, putting a hand on their shoulder. “. . . what did you see?”

   Frisk’s sight was latched hard on the tiles, their head spinning. “It’s . . . it’s . . .”

   “ easy , kiddo.” he instructed, guiding them to lean against the wall. He studied their face, but their eyes were now shooting around in every direction. “ frisk .” He put his hands on either side of their head, leaning his forehead against theirs so they had to look at him. “don’t lose it on me. breathe.”

   Frisk focused on his eyelights, shivering. “Sans . . . it’s, it’s theirs.”
   Sans squinted at them. “what? whose?”
   “It kept changing, but, it said their name. It said ‘Kris.’ ”

Chapter Text

   Kris had no trouble getting into the library. It was practically empty this early on a school day, and whoever was working wouldn’t think much of them being there. Kris went straight to the stairs in the back, taking the steps two at a time up to the second floor.

    They knew there had to be information on Mt. Ebott here. They’d heard stories, of course. Everyone had. But they needed specifics, hard facts.  Where are you . . .?

   Kris ventured between shelves, feeling like the still air it was full of secrets. They glanced over section names, skimmed between book titles, and wove their way through the maze of tomes, but nothing stood out to them. They eventually they planted themself in front of some books that appeared to be on geology, or geography—they didn’t know which, but were sure they didn’t care—and decided to start there. The section took up a shelf and a half, and had mostly atlases and other things that were far too sciency for them to look through. They were about to search somewhere else, when something caught their eye. A rather small book, authored by ‘S. Mann.’ Kris pulled it off the shelf and leafed through the first few pages until they got to the table of contents, ignoring the dedication.

   “ ‘Forward, Chapter 1: Hometown’s Predecessor, Chapter 2: Shadow of—’ ” they drew in a sharp breath. “Shadow of the Mountain.” They flipped to the second chapter, looking over the page and slowly sliding down to sit cross-legged on the floor.

    ‘Long ago, two races ruled over earth: Monsters and Humans. They lived in peace for a long time . . . but the Humans became frightened. They learned of Monsters’ ability to become powerful by absorbing Human souls. As rumours grew, so did tension between the races.

   ‘Humans are inherently stronger beings than we are. After all, it would take the soul of nearly every Monster just to equal the power of a single Human soul. But still they were afraid, and that fear is what drove their subsequent actions.
   ‘War broke out. The Humans had attacked quickly, without mercy, and it was painfully clear they were winning. Many, many Monsters were turned to dust. The Humans planned to trap all of Monsterkind beneath the ground with a magic spell, and came close to succeeding. But the tides turned in our favour when a Monster managed to absorb a Human soul.

   ‘We knew Humans would continue living in fear, and eventually fight against us again if given the chance. We didn’t believe we would be able to stand our ground a second time . . . so we did what they had planned to.

   ‘In the end we were victorious. Six more Human souls were taken, and then with their combined powers, these seven powerful Monsters created a barrier. Any Monster could enter through it, but only a Monster possessing a human soul could leave. With that, the Humans were sealed away, and there was only one entrance to the Underground that was now their home. Or, so we thought.

   ‘There is also the mountain. You’ve seen it. It looms tall on the horizon, shadow stretching far and wide each time the sun sinks down toward dusk. This place, Mt. Ebott, holds a second entrance; one that is rumoured to let into some far end of the Underground. Those who climb the mountain never return, but are lost to the realm of Humans.

   ‘Mt. Ebott serves as a constant reminder. A mass that leaves its mark not only on the land, but in the hearts of every Monster to live under its shadow. By its presence, we are not allowed to forget the lives lost, not the decision made to lock another race away beneath its peak.’

   Kris turned the page, and practically seethed when they found that was all the chapter held.

   “Useless,” they muttered, tossing it aside and looking back to the rest of the shelf. It hadn’t been, though, not completely. They’d only known of the battle, and monsterkind winning, and humans being locked away somewhere, not of seven human souls being taken nor how the barrier worked.

   “. . .”

   They stood, shoving S. Mann’s book back onto the shelf, and left the room behind. It had told them enough for now, but now they had a blazing question. One that they’d thought of many times in recent years, but had never gotten a satisfactory answer to.

   Why were they the only human in Hometown? And if only a monster with a human soul could leave the Underground, how had they even gotten here?

   Sans swore softly and shook his head. “ ‘changing,’ between their name and yours?”

   Frisk nodded, whimpering a little. They pulled their knees up and hugged them to their chest. What if they couldn’t use their save points anymore? How were they supposed to help Asriel?

   “aight.” he sat back on his heels with a heavy sigh, scratching his head. “well, we don’t want to try and test it, obviously.” he looked Frisk over. “. . . kiddo, i’m gonna be honest with you . . .”

   They tried to brace themself, fearing what he’d say.

   “i don’t think this is . . . them .”

   Frisk winced, staring down at their kneecaps. They hated thinking about the player. Hated remembering being moved around by an unseen force. “We . . . we don’t know, if that’s what was really happening,” they said quietly. Despite knowing better than anyone, they’d always tried their hardest to convince themself that all that wasn’t real.

   “actually,” he gave a sad smile. “based on what kris told me yesterday . . .”

   They looked over to Sans, horrified.

   “ but ,” he added quickly. “i doubt this switch was them . . . which means we may be able to do something about it, ok?”

   Gaster couldn’t help being amused. RIGHT YOU ARE, SANS . . . he said to himself. But there was more than amusement. This anomaly . . . if it were handled correctly, there might be a chance. However small.

Chapter Text

   “SANS! I HAVE FOUND A SUITABLE BOX AND—OH!!” Papyrus stopped short as he realized Sans and Frisk were on the couch. The two were watching television under a swath of blankets. “HELLO, FRISK! I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE VISITING, OR I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR DESSERT! WAIT—” he dropped his box and rushed over to kneel in front of them, looking worried. “ARE YOU SICK?? YOU WEREN’T AT SCHOOL.”

   Sans turned the volume down low. “they’re just a bit below the climate, nothin’ to worry about, bro,” he said with a grin, which was just barely visible above the edge of the covers. Frisk scowled and turned their head a little to look at him, only their eyes visible.

   Papyrus squinted at his brother. “. . . NYEH?”

   “y’know. under the weather.”

   Papyrus’s squint deepened. “SANS THAT’S . . . NOT REALLY A PUN.”

   The smaller skeleton shrugged. “so you got a box?”

   Papyrus’s face lit up and he gave a devious grin. “THAT’S RIGHT!” he scrambled over to where he’d dropped it, and returned triumphant. “THIS TRAP WILL SURELY ENSNARE THAT MEDDLING LITTLE CANINE!”

   Frisk peered up at him over the blankets. “Is he still bothering you?” they asked, voice slightly muffled.

   “HE IS PERSISTENT ,” Papyrus lamented. “BUT!” he brought one hand up to his chest. “I SHALL BE PERSISTENTER! THE PERSISTENTEST?”

   Frisk giggled a little. Papyrus always made everything better.

   “MORE PERSISTENT THAN HE COULD EVER HOPE TO BE!” He finished with a flourish, marching off to the kitchen. “ALL I HAVE TO DO IS SET IT UP WITH A SIMPLE BONE ATTACK, AND HE SHALL FIND HIMSELF IN A PREDICAMENT UNLIKE ANY BEFORE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

   Sans and Frisk exchanged a look, then scooted and leaned waaaaay over, half hanging off the edge of the couch to see into the kitchen.

   “ ‘simple’ bone attack, huh?” Sans asked with a smirk.

   The box was on a pillar of bones, propped up by a final attack, with little stairs leading up to it. Papyrus had his hands on his hips, looking it over critically.

   “HM . . . YOU’RE RIGHT SANS,” he agreed, dissipating the bones with a wave of his hand. “THIS WON’T DO, WHAT IF HE’S SCARED OF HEIGHTS?”

   Frisk giggled again and shook their head, shimmying back to their spot on the couch. “You’ll figure it out.”

   “OF COURSE I WILL! I AM VERY GREAT AT SETTING TRAPS!”

   Frisk grinned at Sans, who brought the TV volume back up a little.

   “the greatest, bro.”

   “NYEH HEH!” Papyrus poked his head back around the corner. “WOULD YOU TWO LIKE SOMETHING TO EAT?”

   “Can I help, Master Chef Papyrus?” Frisk asked, sliding off the couch.

   “HM? YOU ARE THE VERY BEST HELPER!” he said, smiling. “AND ARE WELCOME TO ASSIST MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS ANY TIME!” He glared at Sans as Frisk joined him in the kitchen. “UNLIKE SOME EXTREMELY LAZY AND UNHELPFUL HELPERS.”

   “aw, c’mon, Paps, three’s a crowd,” Sans waved him off, appearing to sink into the couch cushions.

   Papyrus shook his head at his lazybones brother and stepped back into the kitchen. “WELL, FRISK? WHAT SHOULD WE MAKE?” he asked, pulling out the step stool from its spot under the counter and picking up Frisk to set them on it. “And . . . is everything alright?” he added quietly.

   The human glanced back toward the living room. When Frisk had first started talking to Sans about resets and Asriel, they’d both agreed with him saying it would be best to keep Pap out of all this. They knew he’d want to help, but there really wasn’t much he could do. There wasn’t even much Sans or themself could do . . . telling would only make him worry.

   “Yesterday . . . and now you’re sick?” he asked.

   Yesterday. Then he’d seen Kris, too. They weren’t sure how they could talk their way around that one.

   “Mostly tired, Pap,” they said truthfully, hoping he'd drop the subject. “Could we make the creamy pasta?”

   He looked them over for a few moments, concern plain on his face. As much as he wanted to know, and do something to help, he trusted they would tell him if it were something important.

   He brushed it aside and stood up. “NYEH! OF COURSE! WE SHOULD HAVE EVERYTHING WE NEED,” he said, getting out a couple pots and opening the fridge. Frisk washed their hands, and then set one of the pots in the sink to fill it up. They hummed to themself and opened the utensil drawer, carefully selecting a butter knife, a sharper knife, and two mixing spoons.

   Papyrus brought an armful of cheeses, butter, cream cheese, and milk to the counter, next going to find some spices and noodles. He then dug through the cupboards for a moment, emerging with a cutting board and strainer.

   “NYEH?? YOU’VE DONE THIS BEFORE ,” he said in mock surprise, as if they hadn’t made this together over a dozen times. “A TRULY EXCELLENT HELPER . . .”

   Frisk made a happy noise and reached to turn the water off. Papyrus picked up the pot and set it on the stovetop to boil, cranking up the heat. But not too too much.

   “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE?”

   “Slice, please!” they said, hopping down and sliding their stool over a little so they were directly in front of the counter. Papyrus set the cutting board and varying blocks of cheese in front of them.

   “JUST BE CAREFUL,” he reminded.

   “I know,” they assured him, humming again as they cautiously cut pieces off each cheese.

   Papyrus smiled at their apparent joy and hummed along with them, glad that whatever had happened, they were themself again. He used the butter knife to slice a generous slab of butter and put it into the second pot, turning its burner on.

   “Not too too much,” Frisk said without looking up. They were determined to get the blend of cheeses just right this time.

   “NYEH,” Papyrus responded, turning the dial back down a bit. He added cream cheese and a little bit of milk, and stirred at it while it melted together.

   Frisk happily embraced the familiar act of cooking with Paps, putting the events of the last two days in the back of their mind. This was going to be delicious, they could tell.

    “Pap, can we try—” they turned toward him, knife in hand.

    “ARE YOU OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE?”

   Their cheerful bubble was shattered by another phantom memory of a past they hadn’t lived. Their head throbbed as they looked out at Papyrus in the fog, a horrible feeling hanging over them. They could do nothing but stand and watch as Papyrus’s shape disintegrated before them, flying off with snowflakes in the wind. The cold air howled around them, but it wasn't the reason for their shaking.

   He was dead. And they were certain it was them who had killed him.

    OH. Gaster looked closely. There were strands here. Strands connecting not just these two realities, but other smaller ones that stretched out to some dozen others. They must be scrambling the child’s memories with those of other Frisks. He hadn’t noticed them before, simply assumed they were connections between the two humans he was observing, but . . . more. This could cause some issues. For them, at least.

   He examined the other threads closely. They didn’t seem to be deciding factors, or hold any real importance. He didn’t particularly like to intervene but . . . he would like to see what happened when these two timelines were as isolated as possible. Except from each other, of course.

   He reached out, tapping one lightly. It was tautly strung, and vibrated at his touch.

   MMM. He poked at it with more force, and it snapped. The new ends frayed and twisted away into nothingness, the effect traveling in both directions until all traces were gone. He consciously picked his way through them, breaking off one after another, until the only visible attachments were between the two chosen universes.

   THERE. He settled back, gazing at the threads he’d left. What had caused all these?

Chapter Text

   Frisk woke with a start, finding themself lying down on the couch. The TV was on low, and it sounded like Papyrus was cooking in the kitchen. He was fine. They were here, everything was fine.

   Sans looked sideways at them. “doin’ alright, kiddo?”

   They sat up slowly and nodded . . . but then scooted over to him, snuggling up close. His warm, puffy jacket could’ve fooled anyone into thinking he wasn’t skin and bones, minus the skin.  Frisk buried their face in his arm, clutching their blanket tightly.

   “. . . scared Paps half to death y’know,” he said, still looking them over, though he could only really see the top of their head now. “looks like it did you too . . .”

   It hadn’t all been a dream, then. “I- I’m sorry — ”

   “it’s ok, frisk,” he said, before they could get far with the apology. He began petting their hair, smoothing it out. The motion was remarkably calming for both of them. “doubt you passed out on purpose.” He leaned down a little to more quietly add, “anything i should know about, though?”

   They trembled a little. How were they supposed to explain the things they’d been seeing? They couldn’t. It was always absolutely their own memory. But that was impossible, they’d never hurt Papyrus, or anyone else . . .

   These, they couldn’t be Kris’s memories, could they?

   “. . . no. I, I don’t think so,” they said quietly.

   Sans wasn’t sure about that, but he let it slide, at least for now. He settled his head back in its previous position, looking toward the kitchen as he lowered the television volume a bit more. “hey, Pap.”

   “NYEH?” the skele-cook’s head popped around the corner. His expression brightened considerably at seeing Frisk sitting up, and he dropped literally what he’d been doing to rush into a kneel in front of the couch. “FRISK! YOU HAD ME WORRIED!!” he put a gloved hand on their blanket-covered knee. “ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?? DO YOU WANT SOME MILK? IT’S GOOD FOR BONES! OR,” he paused, “I, COULD FETCH A MILKSHAKE, FROM THE GRILLBY’S 2.” His eyes darted left and right with suspicion and distaste.

   He always called the surface Grillby’s ‘Grillby’s 2,’ even though that wasn’t its name, and it was in fact the same exact building. No one was quite sure how it had moved from its place in Snowdin, but it was undoubtedly the same, down to the last brick and stubborn snow on its roof.

   Frisk scoffed a little in amusement. “I’m alright now.” They fiddled with the blanket. “. . . I’m sorry I scared you, Paps,” they said softly.

   Papyrus shook his head and pulled them into a hug, squeezing them tightly. “FRET NOT! AS LONG AS YOU ARE ALL RIGHT, THAT’S ALL THAT IS IMPORTANT.” He smiled and let them lean back into the couch. “BUT . . . I DO NEED TO ASK YOU . . .”

   Oh no. They couldn’t help shrinking back a tiny bit. What was he going to say? They’d always skirted the questions about resets and any related topics around him, but they’d never had to answer a direct question from him about it. Would they have to lie to his face? They didn’t think they’d be able to do that —

   “WOULD YOU LIKE SOME CREAMY PASTA??” he questioned, practically bouncing in his eagerness for them to try it.

   “Eheh! Y-yes!” Frisk said happily, stuttering a little in relief. Papyrus ran back to the kitchen to fetch some, and they exhaled, sinking back into the couch.

   Sans eyed them with sockets half closed. “what’d you expect him to ask?”

   “I . . .” They twisted the blanket between their fingers, rubbing the fabric. “I don’t . . . know . . .”

   Master Chef Papyrus was quick to return, a heaping plate of noodles coated completely in a wonderful-smelling white sauce. Frisk perked up and scooted themself back so they could place the dish on their lap.

   “IT HAS COOLED DOWN SOME,” he informed them, holding out a fork. “IF YOU NEED ME TO HEAT IT WITH THE TINY HOT-FRIDGE, JUST ASK!”

   He was referring to the microwave. Frisk accepted the fork with a smile and a nod, and plunged it into the meal. They’d normally include some vegetables to make it healthier, but not today. Papyrus waited, vibrating with anticipation as the human maneuvered the fairly large bite into their mouth. Their eyes lit up as they savoured it.

   “ ‘ts ghood!” they proclaimed, making to shovel down more.

   Papyrus stopped them from doing so with a gentle touch, wagging a finger. “YOU SHOULD CHEW WHAT YOU ALREADY HAVE FIRST!” he smiled widely. “BUT I AM MOST GLAD IT IS TASTY! I SHALL STRIVE TO CREATE AN EVEN BETTER DISH NEXT TIME!”

   Frisk shook their head, swallowing their mouthful before scooping up some more. “I dunno if you can, Paps.”

   The skeleton beamed at this praise, and stood up even straighter than usual — though how that was possible, Frisk wasn’t sure.

   “WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY SOME, BROTHER?”

   “s’pose if the kid likes it that much, i cheddar give it a shot.”

   Frisk giggled around the noodles.

   “don’t choke, kid. tori’d kill me.”

   “NNNNNG-!” Papyrus resisted responding to the pun and marched back into the kitchen, returning with two more plates. “HERE YOU ARE, SANS.”

   “thanks, Pap.”

   The taller skeleton squinted at his brother, not taking his eyes off him as he sat on the other side of Frisk. “. . .”

   “what? don’t gouda make a pun for everything do i?”

   “SANS!” He threw his plate down in anger, shattering it.

   Frisk jumped even though breakages were far from an uncommon occurrence in the skeleton household. They tried hiding another giggle, but weren’t very good at it. Sans grinned a little at his audience’s response, and tucked his fork into the noodles.

   Papyrus sighed at both the pun and the mess, pinching the bridge of his nasal bone. “WHAT YOU CONSIDER FUNNY BONE MATERIAL SHALL NEVER CEASE TO AMAZE ME.”

   “i strive to impress,” Sans replied. “hm. these are really good,” he agreed.

   “NYEH HEH!” Papyrus smiled at the second happy opinion, summoning up a rather complex bone attack that formed underneath the floor and then rose up to lift all the broken pieces of his plate and spilled noodles and carry them to the trash.

   “little lazy to not do it yourself, bro,” Sans said with a mischievous grin.

   Papyrus glared at him, raising his chin as he went to get himself another plate. “I AM ALLOWED TO CHEAT WHEN YOU CAUSED THE MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE, SANS! AND I WANT TO TRY THEM MYSELF!”

   Sans chuckled to himself, and when Frisk looked over they found his dish already more than half empty. He tended to do that. When Papyrus returned, he sat back down next Frisk, and Sans turned the TV volume up. The three of them watched contentedly, happy with the food and each other’s presence. The brother’s always knew just how to make Frisk feel the comfort of being home.

Chapter Text

    Kris swung the door of their house open, sending it into the side of the armchair that was near the entrance. Once inside, having abandoned the prospect of returning to school for the day, they kicked off their shoes and headed upstairs, looking over the kitchen on the way without really expecting to find anything. They barely glanced at the bookshelf on their right before passing their own room and stopping in front of their mother's. There had to be something somewhere about them.

    Anything. 

    Kris had asked questions sometimes before, but they only resulted in vague answers and they’d never really dug further. Never really looked into how they’d wound up in the middle of a town, a whole world, that was otherwise entirely full of monsters. What made them so different? What made them so special? Why was this “player” controlling them?

    And what had happened to the human souls monsterkind had taken?

    They reached out for the handle to Toriel’s bedroom door, growling a little upon finding it locked. It was something she had taken to doing recently, as even the tallest shelf in her room wasn’t enough to keep any chocolate safe from Kris. 

    They debated their options. 1: They could try to find another key somewhere in the house, but that was unlikely. 2: They could try and pick the lock, but past attempts had only left them frustrated and ready to just break the door down instead, which happened to be option 3. They could also try getting in from outside, but if the window was locked as well, it would be just as much trouble as the door, except in midair. As much as they didn’t like it, trying to pick the lock seemed like the best idea.

    But, they really, really didn’t want to, so they elected to climb a tree near the window instead. 

    There weren’t any neighbors living particularly close by, and most everyone was at work or school anyway, so there wasn’t anyone around to wonder why Toriel’s child was out around the back of the house, scrambling up a tree trunk and nearly crashing down again when they put their weight on too thin of a branch. Kris gained enough height to be level with the window, but couldn’t manage to get close enough to test if it was open. There might be a ladder around somewhere, either on their property or someone else’s, but really . . . 

    This would work fine, right?

    They hunkered down on their branch, preparing to spring. The window ledge wasn’t particularly wide, but they could hopefully find out if it was locked before dropping back to the ground below. You know, entirely intentionally. Not at all because they might miss or anything. Definitely a good plan.

    To be fair . . . they’d certainly thought up worse.

    Kris shifted their feet a little before tensing themself and launching toward the window. They crossed the space between their perch and the house easily . . . a little too easily.

    They barely brought their arms up in time to cover their face from the glass that splintered and rained around them into the room, some being so ambitious as to make its way down to the ground outside. Their knees had taken the brunt, and were now scraped and bleeding from landing among the shattered pieces on the floor. Kris stood cautiously, tugging at the collar of their glittering sweater to pull it off as delicately as they could. It stuck painfully for a moment on a gash in their left arm before successfully sliding off. They let it fall to the floor, shaking their head recklessly to send tiny bits of glass flying. They crouched to pry out a piece that was stuck in their knee, muttering to themself the whole time, and wiped their hands on their undershirt. Now that they’d made their entrance—honestly, how did they not see it turning out like this—they were free to snoop about the room. 

    Toriel always kept a diary, and while it was almost entirely for bad jokes, there were some legitimate entries as well. Kris felt certain there must be something from whenever they had come to the Dreemurrs. 

    They started at the bottom of her closet, sliding the neatly hung dresses out of the way to examine a few repurposed shoe boxes and fabric bags that were stacked on the floor beneath. Wait, why did she have shoe boxes again? Oh, that’s right, she’d gotten some from their cat friends down the street. The would-be shoe boxes currently held some jewelry, knitting supplies, and a couple of the more obscure recipes that weren’t used often and could survive outside the realm of the kitchen. 

    All were useless.

    Kris dragged the desk chair over to the closet, stepping up to search the shelf stationed at the top. Let’s see . . . no . . . worthless . . . nada . . . 

    They hopped back off the chair, landing solidly, and raked their gaze across the rest of the room. Basement? No, there’d been a damp down there for a while that had yet to be fixed, anything important she’d have safe up in here. And Kris figured that diary would probably be important to her.

    They gingerly got down to their knees by the side of the bed farthest from the window, lifting up the edge of the quilt to peer underneath. There appeared to be three things: a suitcase for family trips, a file box labeled as something boring to do with school, and a rather large tub container used to store out of season clothing. They pulled away, dropping the edge of the blanket—

    And making eye contact for a split second with the ghostly-pale face from before.

    Kris jumped a mile and scrambled backward on all fours, backing themself up against the wall.

    Okay. Four things.

    They sat there some long moments, still as their frantic breathing would allow. Eventually, when nothing stirred, and no sound came from beneath the bed, they made their way back over, creeping as cautiously as they could while still being quick enough so as to not to drag it out. 

    Lifting the quilt a second time showed the same three things as before. No mystery man was waiting underneath . . . but there was something else they hadn’t noticed previously. 

    Sliding the tub of clothes out of the way with some effort, they found a cardboard box. It was covered in what looked like childish doodles, and even more childish scribbles. Pulling it toward them, they found one corner that appeared to have been partially paper-machéd. Pasted to the lid were seven little stars, cut out of what must have once been colourful construction paper. There was no label or legible writing anywhere on the entire thing.

    Looked promising to them. 

    Kris popped the cover up with a tap under the lightweight thing’s edge. As they were about to set it aside, they blinked, and opened their eyes to see a low-volumed TV looking back at them. They were exceedingly warm, and discovered this was due to them being bundled up in blankets and sandwiched between the two skeletons they had met before, when they’d woken up in the other world.

    Wait.

    Oh no—

    “well, well . . .”

    Kris felt a chill shoot up and down their spine, and slowly twisted their head to make eye contact with the blank sockets staring down at them. His empty grin felt even more threatening than usual.

    “hey there.”

    Frisk woke to an incredible sense of vertigo, and found themself falling sideways to the floor. They moaned softly at a dull throbbing in their knee and looked around, bleary-eyed. They were in a room they’d never seen before, though it had a very ‘mom’ feel to it. One thing stood out, though; the window was broken.

    Where were they now? 

Chapter Text

    Frisk took a few moments to clear their head, and looked around to get their bearings. There was shattered glass on the floor near the window, a green and yellow sweater covered in shards nearby, and what appeared to be some sort of crafts box close to their sore knees. They felt a small chill and realized they weren’t wearing a sweater—ah, must be missing the one on the floor—and shook their head with a small sigh. This whole back and forth thing was getting a little bothersome, but nonetheless, they were here now, and they had to make the most of whatever time they had before they got thrown back.

    It’s a homemade box.

    Frisk giggled a little. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” They offered back. It did seem deliberately placed in front of them, so they figured it was probably important, and elected to follow the voice’s lead and investigate. They raised the lid delicately, careful not to disturb the bits of paper and decoration all around it, and set it on the floor beside the rest of the box. Inside they found a sealed envelope with a single star at its center, what appeared to be a little clay figure with wings, and . . . dog treats?? Frisk picked one of the biscuit-like things up and tapped it lightly with a finger from their other hand. The treats didn’t seem stale, despite the probable long time they’d been in the box. They shrugged and replaced the lid, standing slowly and assessing the mystery injuries their current body had. Where even were they?

    Their thoughts were jostled by the closing in sound of a car engine, followed by its cease. They wanted to look out the window but, seemed like a bad idea considering its current state.

    You know what they said about the cat, the narrator confirmed.

    Frisk stuck their tongue out at nothing in particular as response. Plus, the viewpoint appeared to be facing a rear yard, so it probably wouldn’t show anything useful anyways. Instead, Frisk made their way to the room’s only door and unlocked it, stepping out into a hall that ran in only one direction. Ah, now they recognized where they were. It was Kris’ house, upstairs. They’d just come from the room that had been locked before. They approached the stairs, and hadn’t yet reached the bookcase when a voice called up from down them. A rather familiar one . . .

    “Kris? Kris are you here??”

    “Uh oh.”

    ‘Uh oh’ indeed.

    “nothin’ to say?” the skeleton mused. Despite their close and intimate proximity, Kris had almost never felt more threatened by anyone or anything. “you sure?”

    The human’s voice was literally caught up in their throat, and it wasn’t but another moment before Sans had transported both Kris and himself to an empty space in the middle of a snow covered wood. He held a gloved hand up, catching some snowflakes with an uninterested look on his skull.

    Kris shivered a little, though they had some buffer in their pink and blue sweater. “What do you want?”

    “what do i want?” Sans repeated, eyelights darting over to look at them before returning to the snow on his lack-of-palm. “funny question.”

    “Not really,” Kris mumbled, crossing their arms. Now that they weren’t practically right on top of him, he seemed a lot less spooky. And this was getting old. “But how about I ask you a question.”

    The skeleton turned his full attention to them. “hm?”

    “Mt. Ebott. What does that mean here?” They knew it existed here too, as he'd said that's where he teleported them before. And the book from the library had them thinking.

    “here?” Sans scratched the back of his skull. “uhhh. kind of significant for being one of two entrances to the Underground,” he looked them over carefully to gauge their response. “where all of monsterkind was imprisoned, until Frisk came along and broke us all out.”

    Kris did the mental equivalent of cocking their head like a bird. That’s what the Underground was then. Curious . . . so the opposite had happened here? Monsters were trapped instead of humans? That still offered no light to how they were an exception back in their own world.

    A sort of impish charm seeped into the skeleton’s smile. “my turn.” His eyelights dimmed down to specks. “you know about save stars?”

    Kris had no answer for that. “I don’t, know what you mean.”

    “don’t lie to me kid.” He responded coldly. “frisk said when they checked their file, your name kept taking over theirs.” he nodded past where they stood, and they turned around to find . . . a . . . a microwave? On a table in the middle of the woods?? It had a very clearly frozen solid plate of what seemed like attempted spaghetti next to it, and had that been all they would’ve been more than confused. Out of the corner of their eye however, they saw it. A gold twinkling mocking them from its half a place in reality.

    “. . . so they have them too,”

    “yea.”

    Kris started at the voice directly behind them. Sans put a hand on their shoulder with a grip that wasn’t crushing but wasn’t friendly either.

    “and like i said . . . don’t lie to me.”

    The human swallowed hard, but nodded. They supposed it would in fact be best if they cooperated, for now at least. Maybe they’d find answers that way.

    “. . . okay. You have to stop threatening me though.” Kris said, pushing his hand off and turning around. “And it goes both ways.”

    Sans scoffed. “hmph. ‘kay,”

    They nodded and crossed their arms. “My turn. You didn’t answer me last time I was here.”

    “eh?”

    “About Gaster. Who is he? Why do I keep seeing him in both places?”

    Sans narrowed his eye sockets. “you’ve seen him in your world too?”

    They nodded again. “Couple times.”

    He looked off to the side, where the save point was. “. . . gaster was a scientist, made a few poor decisions that appeared to cost him his life, but in actuality ripped him from this timeline and spread him in pieces across different timelines and realities. the kiddo’s seen him too a handful of times, and long before you showed up.” He returned his gaze to them. “but not for a long while. we’ve tried everything to get in contact with him, couldn’t get his attention for anything. but now here he is, sticking his droopy nose in as soon as you a frisk swap places,”

    Kris scowled. “So, what, I’m like, ‘special’ to him or something?”

    “apparently.” Sans let his eyes drift up to watch the snow falling. “. . . that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s sure to not be a good one either. regardless it doesn’t do much more right now than confirm you two are from different realities, not that that was really in question anyway.” He sighed and scuffed a slipper.

    Kris wrinkled their nose. “Well that wasn’t very long or complicated at all.”

    “huh?”

    “You said last time you couldn’t explain because there was too much to it.”

    “oh, heh. well,” he stretched his arms out, hands still in the pockets so his jacket was pulled back like wings. “guess it was just complicated to think about.”