Work Text:
Fandom: Undertale
Prompt: “Are you feeling better today?”
Snow. Buried underneath his collar. It’s not like he has anything to prevent the chill from seeping into his bones anyway. Stupid hoodie…
The bell jingled as he pushed open the door to Grillby’s. He ignored the instinctive response to grab a weapon, even if so many of the other patrons didn’t. After a second they all ruffled to put them away anyway. They knew Sans. They also knew that Papyrus wouldn’t hesitate to turn the whole town into a dustbowl if someone so much as looked at them the wrong way.
“hey, grillbz.” Sans heaved himself onto a bar stool. The amethyst fire monster slid a jar mustard his way but Sans shook his head. “shouldn’t be drinking right now. boss’ll kill me.”
“Your brother would kill anything,” Grillby chuckled, “that’s hardly stopped you before.”
“heh.” Sans took the jar of mustard anyway. “i’ll save it for later. right now i need a good burger and a heapin’ helping of fries.”
Grillby raised an eyebrow—fire brow?—and disappeared back into the kitchen. Sans shuttled the jar of mustard into his pocket and glanced around. No one else was staring at him, not that they’d be caught dead doing that, but Sans knew the difference between not staring and pointedly not staring.
Grillby reappeared, carrying a big plate with a burger and a large portion of fries. He slid it across the bar and hold out his hand. Sans retrieved the trinket he’d taken from the monster’s dust and placed it in there.
“You know,” Grillby muttered, turning it over in his hands, “you’d make a good mercenary.”
“ain’t that what we got goin’ on now?”
Grillby’s mouth turned up in a cruel smirk. “You do my favors. I give you food and drink. That’s not the same thing.”
“yeah, well,” Sans muttered, “it ain’t as if i got a lot a’ options even if boss ain’t gonna do anything about it.”
Everyone in the Underground knew how Sans and Papyrus felt about each other. They were allowed to fight, but if anyone else crossed them, they’d end up a pile of dust before they could blink. Grillby was one of the few people who knew how much Sans actually cared.
“It’ll get cold,” Grillby said, gesturing to the plate.
“wrap it up then.” Sans leaned back. “i’ll take it to go.”
He managed to hide his surprise when Grillby didn’t protest, placing the whole kit-and-kaboodle into a bag. He nodded to the fire elemental and turned to go only for Grillby to stop him with a hand on his wrist.
“whattya want, grillbz?”
Grillby pulled him close so no other patron would hear. “Does your brother know?”
Sans’ SOUL flipped in his chest. “know what?”
“About the kid.”
“dunno what you’re talking about, grillbz.”
“Don’t play dumb,” Grillby warned, “I know what you’re doing. Lucky for you, I’m the only one who bothers to watch in this goddamn town.”
Sans really didn’t want to dust Grillby. He kind of likes the fire monster. Plus, the mustard wasn’t something he’d be able to get anywhere else.
“I’m not going to do anything.” Grillby let him go, leaning back and taking the towel again. “I couldn’t care less.”
“that’s a lie,” Sans growled, “and you know it. what’s your angle?”
Grillby glanced around. Then he leaned forward and moved his shirt collar far enough away fo Sans could see the charm hanging around his neck.
Ah. Right. That made sense.
Grillby was far older than most monsters, not just because he knew how to kill and people knew not to get on his bad side, but because he was old. He was almost as old as Asgore.
He fought in the war.
Sans knew about this; the armor wasn’t exactly hard to find. Of course, finding it and not getting dusted was another question, but Sans managed. When the nights were long and the monster community cowered behind their closed, locked doors, Sans would sit with Grillby and they would drink. No one else saw the fire monster drunk.
He would talk about the war. He would talk about the surface. He would talk about humans.
Unlike most other monsters, Grillby didn’t hate humans. Well, not completely. He has a tinge of admiration in his voice when he talked about them, saying their kind perfected the clockwork of murder eons ago. They had ways to torment each other monsters could only dream of. Sans thought he’d make a great diplomat if he ever decided he wanted to choose MERCY.
Not likely.
At least, not until he’d asked about the charm ‘round Grillby’s neck. The elemental tugged his tie loose when he was off the clock, exposing his neck just a little. Grillby must’ve been really drunk that night because he told Sans.
Curse the Surface for having the cruelty of rain.
Grillby ran for the cave, pulling his cloak over his head as his battalion ran the other way, impervious to the water falling from above. He was expendable, he knew, but he’d figured he was enough of a powerhouse to warrant at least the slightest bit of concern. Apparently not.
The cave was small, dark, cramped. Grillby’s flames barely lit up the interior, almost as if the darkness consciously fought back against the light. Sounded familiar.
He leaned against the wall, panting, until he realized the scuffling motions from behind him weren’t just ambient noise.
He whirled around, summoning his sword, only to lower it when he saw nothing.
Then he looked closer.
There was a human child, crouched behind an outcropping, peering out at him. He should kill it. Burn it. Steal its SOUL.
Then it reached out and tossed a lump of coal at Grillby. He leaned down carefully, keeping his eyes on the human, wary of traps, only to discover that this was just charcoal.
He squinted. What were they playing at?
“M-mom always says it’s important to feed the fire when it’s raining,” they murmured, “a-are you hungry, mister?”
This…this human was trying to feed him? To care for him?
“Aren’t you afraid?” Grillby took a step forward, still brandishing his sword.
The child nodded but repeated their question: “are you hungry, mister?”
“Why would you help me,” Grillby snarled, “when we are at war?”
“Are you going to kill me, mister?”
He should. He should take their SOUL and march right back to the battalion than abandoned him and teach them a lesson.
He shouldn’t eat the lump of coal because he’s ravenous and it’s the first proper food for him he’s seen in ages.
The child smiles and reaches for another lump.
Sans had hiccuped when Grillby told him the child kept him fed and safe while the storm lasted. They’d been cast out by their village for being weak, left to die. They thought he was some reaper, sent to take them to the other side. He definitely hadn’t shed a tear when Grillby told him he made it as quick as possible, leaving their SOUL to make its own journey and instead, taking the small charm that’d hung around their little neck.
Grillby fixed his collar and fixed Sans with a look. Sans knew better than to cross that look.
“i ain’t gonna hurt ‘em,” he muttered, “i ain’t.”
“Good.” Grillby slid him an extra drink. “You see that you don’t.”
Sans tightened his grip on the bag and looked around. Still no one was paying attention to them.
“this place is crowded,” he muttered, “but…”
Grillby jerked his head toward the back. “No one goes back there except for me.”
Trusting someone was risky in the Underground. But Sans and Grillby knew each other. They had enough dirt to bury the entire town if necessary. They made eye contact and nodded.
“you ever need any other favors,” Sans said, “you just ask.”
“Not for this,” Grillby said, his hand drifting towards his collar again, “I pay my debts. This one isn’t to you.”
Sans left with a bag full of food and a new ally.
He sat down in front of the kid, having teleported to their safe haven in Waterfall.
“here, sweetheart,” he said quietly, wrapping their hands around the bag of food, “got you something to eat. are you feeling better today?”
They nodded, gently unwrapping the burger and taking a small bite. Sans smiled when their little face—or what he could see of it—lit up.
“good?” They nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite. “grillbz makes the best burgers. you remember grillbz, right?”
They nodded again, wiping their mouth gently on their sleeve. Sans talked about very few other monsters, Papyrus and Grillby being the only ones other than the King. Sans told them stories about the fire monster, smiling sadly when the kid said they missed seeing color.
“he’s kinda pretty,” Sans admitted, stroking their shoulder as they ate, sure the noise would obscure any of his rustlings. “you’d like him.”
Yeah, he thinks as they finish their food and cuddle into him, I think he’d like you, too.
He makes a promise to take them the next time the nights become dark and long. Grillby might even make a milkshake for them.