Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Brad flicked his lighter a few times, cursing when the flame didn’t catch.  His government mandated fifteen minute break would be over by the time he managed to light his cigarette.  

He gave the lighter one last desperate flick, only to fumble it over the railing into the CORE.

“Great.  Just fantastic,” he muttered as the red object descended further and further into the abyss.  

Just like everything else in his life.

He stepped back from the railing to keep that thought from becoming too literal.  His life might suck now, but he hadn’t lost all hope.  He just needed to prove to Mettaton that he could do way more than fry Glamburgers, and then— 

What was that?  Something shadowy flickered in the corner of his vision. It was almost ten at night; hadn’t all the CORE workers gone home by now?  They didn’t work garbage jobs with garbage hours and garbage pay and a garbage boss.

Maybe he should ask Bratty and Catty to hire him.  Their job selling actual garbage had to suck less.

His headache was flaring up again.  So was the weird shadow at the edge of his view.

“What do you want?” He turned to confront whatever fire elemental decided their food was more important than his break.

Only it wasn’t a fire elemental.  It was freaking creepy.  

Brad took an instinctive step back from the mystery monster.  Was he a skeleton?  He looked sort of like that lumpy comedian who raided the Burger Emporium’s ketchup.  Only that comedian didn’t have dark, soulless eyesockets and gashes cracking his skull.

“Uh… can I… help you?” Brad forced his most uncomfortable customer service grin.  

The mystery monster held out a bony hand.  Balanced across the circular hole in his palm was the lighter Brad had dropped.  The flame at its tip flickered eerily across the monster’s face.

“Thanks? I guess??” He quickly took the lighter back from the skeleton.  The flame went out as soon it touched his hand.

The skeleton didn’t say anything.  He just smiled that big, empty smile.  Maybe he’d had his soul sucked out by the food industry, too.

“Well, uh, my break is almost over, so…” Brad pointed back towards the hotel.

The monster nodded, then—as if he wasn’t weird enough—stretched vertically and disappeared.

Okaaaaay.  Maybe all skeletons could teleport.  That would explain how that comedian could get into the condiments any time Brad’s back was turned.  

He pocketed his lighter and headed back to the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium for another two hours of torture.

XXX

It took a couple weeks for Brad to realize anything was wrong.  A customer ordered a ridiculously specific burger three days in a row?  Just another weirdo.  His shift lasted twice as long as it was supposed to?  Par for the course.  Mettaton decided to drop the same diss track four times?  He just thought “Burgerpants” didn’t compliment it enough.

When the same five minutes started looping with no end in sight, though, Brad finally cracked.

“I’ll take a Starfait with extra—”

“Extra stars, one quarter ‘fait, easy on the cream and add a shot of gasoline!”  Brad echoed back with a manic grin before the fire monster could finish.

“WOAH!  You read my mind!”  The flame guy’s eyes widened.  “Can you tell what my name is, too?”

Brad stared, his eye twitching painfully.  In two more minutes, this conversation would be over.  And then it would start again.  And again.  Brad never finished making the order before he had to start over, so he’d never gotten the monster’s name.

“I’m sorry, ha ha, my magic only works on food orders.”

“Seems like a pretty useless power, then,” the fire guy mumbled, crossing his stubby arms.  “I’m Heats Flamesman.  Remember my name!  I’m gonna be famous someday!”

Brad kept grinning until his lips felt like they would fall off. “Ain’t that the dream.”

Heats went on and on about how he was going to revolutionize the fire business.  Why did they even have a fire business?  Hotland was right there!

The ringing in his ears grew louder than Heats’ voice. What was keeping him from strangling a customer?  This was just going to happen again in two minutes anyway.  Heats would be fine.  He wouldn’t even remember Brad’s hands wringing his flaming neck.

Could you even strangle a fire elemental?  He’d probably just burn himself.  Now, if he could find his boss during this weird timeloop…

He blinked.

“I’ll take a Starfait with extra—”

“Congrats, you’re hired!”

Brad shoved his hat on top of Heats’ head.  The hat immediately burst into flames, but Brad didn’t care.  He was getting out of this hellhole for at least five minutes.

He vaulted over the counter, nearly tripping and splatting on the tile—but hey!  No one would remember if he embarrassed himself, anyway!  

“Burgerpants?”  Tessella called out as he bolted towards the CORE.  “Get back here!  Mettaton will fire you for real this time!”

"Great! Tell him to kiss my buns while he's at it!!"

A manic laugh burst from him.  What was he doing?  There was nowhere to run to!  He sucked at puzzles, he sucked at his job, he couldn’t even manage to move linearly through time— 

He crashed into a monster on the bridge.  More like squelched into them, actually.  Ew.  He stepped back, wiping black goop off of his face.

“What the f—wait.”  Brad squinted up at the monster’s face.  An empty grin looked back at him.  “You!”

The skeleton’s two floating hands shrugged.

“Don’t—don’t look at me like I’m crazy!”  Brad jabbed a finger at the skeleton’s chest.  ...Maybe he shouldn't try to poke a man made of goop.  “None of this weird crap started happening until you showed up!!”

The skeleton seemed to grimace.  It was hard to tell when he didn’t have any teeth.  Then his hands started flashing through signs faster than Brad could read.

Well.  He couldn’t read signs at all, actually.  His boss always had to show up to translate for the nonverbal monsters, which just gave him more opportunities to tell Brad how much he sucked.

“Yeah, I’m not following that,” Brad said.  “Look, just fix whatever it was you did!  You need my lighter back?  You can have it!”

He chucked the lighter into the void.  The skeleton watched it fall with a confused expression.

“It… wasn’t the lighter, was it.  Ha.”  Brad bit back a nervous laugh.  

It probably wasn’t a good idea to rant at a monster who might control time.  If there was anything scarier than hot people, it was powerful people.  Of course, hot people tended to be both.

Maybe he’d get lucky and this skeleton was neither.  It wasn’t like Brad had more than a coincidental hunch to connect him to the time loops.

The skeleton grinned suddenly, snapped his fingers, and summoned a barrage of bones.

“W-wait!”  Brad leapt back.  The railing dug into his spine.  Sure, he’d probably be glitched back to work any minute now, but would that happen if he was dead? 

“I’m only nineteen, man!  My bullet patterns aren’t even any fun!  You’ll hate fighting me, I’ll barely give you any EXP, I—huh?”

The man wasn’t attacking him.  He was forming words from the assortment of bones.

“Ohhhh.  Ha.  Haha.”  Brad gave a tentative grin and started reading the hovering words.

YOU ARE INTERESTING.

VERY.

INTERESTING.

Those bones shifted, rearranging into new sentences.

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.

I DO NOT CONTROL THIS WORLD’S FUTURE.

THAT POWER BELONGS 

TO ANOTHER. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The skeleton frowned.  The bones moved faster.

I AM SORRY.

MY TIME IN THIS WORLD

IS

“I’ll take a Starfait with extra stars, one quarter ‘fait, easy on the cream, and add a shot of gasoline, will ya?”

Brad screamed.

XXX

“If you take one more ketchup packet, I’ll be forced to add a ten G upcharge to your order,” Brad deadpanned while flipping a Glamburger.

“Heh.  Did the old calculator upgrade you when I wasn’t looking?”  The skeleton comedian—not the creepy one—chuckled.  “Didn’t know catboys had eyes in the back of their heads.”

“I’m just trying to do my job, sir.”  

This was the tenth time in a row that the man had tried to pocket a handful of ketchup packs.  Today’s glitch lasted about ten minutes, leaving Brad enough time to realize that the condiments had been raided.  Brad wasn’t sure which loop would be the last one, but he really didn’t want his boss chewing him out for a customer’s strange addiction.

“Heh.  Guess I’m getting too predictable.”

Brad looked over his shoulder.  The skeleton was leaning with his back to the counter.  Brad hadn’t heard him move, but the ketchup packets were already gone anyway.

“You and everyone else.” Brad grunted.  Great.  The Glamburger’s glue was starting to bubble, which—from what he was told—gave the burger a weird aftertaste.  Personally, Brad thought that was just a sign that glue shouldn’t be an ingredient in burgers, even if magic made it digestible.

Maybe he should go ahead and burn the burger.  That would satisfy whatever curse had put him in this ten-minute loop, right?

“Honestly, though.  You always seem bored when I come in.  Like you’ve heard my bad jokes a million times.”

“I’m not allowed to insult customers directly.”  Brad slapped the burger on a pink bun.  It was supposed to look prettier, but he had a feeling the man wouldn’t care.  He’d probably just drown it in ketchup, anyway.

The skeleton laughed again.  Were all skeletons this weird?  

“Hey, I said it, not you.”  He winked as Brad bagged up the Glamburger.  “I got a weird question for you, kid. Humurus me.”

Brad groaned.  That one was new, but it was still awful.

“Heh.  I gotcha with that one.”  The skeleton grinned.  “Anyway.  You’re real interesting, Brad. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

Brad’s eyes widened.  “If you’re stalking me, I’m gonna call the Guard.”

“Huh—?  No, not like that.  You think you’d know if I was stalking you?”

The skeleton’s eyelights gutted out for a second.  Brad took it back.  This guy was creepier than the goopy skeleton.

Brad held his spatula up like it would protect him.  He hadn’t lied before—his bullet patterns sucked.  He felt better with something physical in his hands, even if the dumpy skeleton probably couldn’t climb over the counter to reach him.

“Geez, I’m screwing this up.  Or I already screwed it up, heh…”

“Can you please just take your burger and leave??”  

There weren’t any other customers around to use as an excuse.  The skeleton only came by then the burger emporium was empty—which probably should’ve been a warning sign in the first place.

“Sure.  If you’ll just answer one question for me.”

Brad grit his teeth.  “Fine.  How can I help you, O customer??”

“You know anything about time travel?”

The skeleton sounded casual, but his eyelights bored into Brad’s eyes.

Brad looked away.  Glowered at the ceiling, at the walls, at the floor.

“This is a prank, right?  I’m being pranked??”

“...You gotta help me out, here.  I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no.”

“How many skeletons are there, anyway?”  Brad squinted at him.  “Did that goopy guy put you up to this?”

“Goop—?  I, uh, think they prefer the term slimes.”

“He wasn’t a slime!  He was a skeleton, like you, and… you have no idea what I’m talking about.”  

Brad wanted to slam his head against the counter.  Why would a comedian have anything to do with an eldritch monster, anyway?  The time travel thing was a coincidence.  Or… or something.

“You saw another skeleton.  And you think he’s pranking you because…?”

“Because I only started glitching through time and space after he touched me!”

The skeleton stared blankly, and Brad’s face heated.

“Not like that!  Geez, he was just giving me back my lighter!”

“That’s… uh, interesting.  Real interesting.”  He nodded.  “Welp.  If you see me again, just to prove you’re telling the truth, I’m gonna need you to tell me something.  I’ve got a secret codeword only I know.  So I know if someone tells it to me, they have to be a time traveler.  Crazy, right?”

“Insane,” Brad deadpanned.  “Weren’t you leaving?”

“Yep.  Just remember.  The code is…”

The skeleton whispered it across the counter.

Yeah, there was no way Brad was ever going to repeat the words, “I’m a stupid doodoo butt.”

XXX

Oh geez oh hell there was another one.

“GOOD MORNING, FRIEND!”  The newest, tallest, and loudest of the skeletons Brad had had the displeasure of dealing with waved a gloved hand.

“We’re not open yet,” Brad said as calmly as he could manage.  He’d really need an extra smoke break to deal with this today.  “I’m just about to warm up the grill.  It’ll be another thirty minutes.”

“OH, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT!! I WOULD NEVER EAT AT A PLACE SO COATED IN GREASE.  NOT EVEN ONE OWNED BY THE SEXIEST RECTANGLE IN THE UNDERGROUND!!!”

“Another Mettaton fan.  Fantastic.”

“THAT JOKE WAS ALMOST NOT TERRIBLE!  CONGRATULATIONS!  MAYBE YOU SHOULD TAKE MY BROTHER’S JOB HERE.  SPEAKING OF WHICH, HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?  SHORT, ROUND, CONSTANTLY EMITTING SLIME?”

“Pretty sure that’s just the ketchup packets he keeps shoving in his pockets.  But uh, no.  Not today.”

“HMM.  I SWEAR SANS SAID HE WAS GOING TO THE RESORT TALK TO A CATBOY.  DO YOU KNOW ANY OTHER CATBOYS AROUND HERE?”

Sans.  So that was the skeleton’s name.

“There’s Catty in the back alley.”  Brad jerked a finger towards the front doors.  Catty wasn’t a boy, but Brad would’ve done anything to keep the skeletons out of his fur.

“THANK YOU!  OH, AND I NEVER DID INTRODUCE MYSELF!! I APOLOGIZE FOR MY RUDENESS; I AM—”

“No big deal,” Brad interrupted before ducking into the restaurant for a few blessed moments of peace and quiet.

Until the universe made him repeat the previous few minutes, anyway.

XXX

Someday Asgore would get the last human soul.  This never-ending hell couldn’t actually be never-ending, right??  With that kind of power, he had to be able to fix whatever was wrong with Brad.

It was a pipe dream.  Almost as much of a pipe dream as becoming an actor.  But hey, monsters were made of dreams!  It was better than accepting the fact that his life had somehow managed to get even worse.

He really shouldn’t have slammed Mettaton’s face against the grill for eleven straight time loops.  The satisfaction had died when that last loop stuck.  

And now Brad was stuck in a Steak costume outside of the resort.  On the CORE side.  Where the heat pouring off of the machinery was sweltering on a good day, and downright deadly if you were trapped in a full-body costume.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t climb over the railing in this, he might’ve jumped.

“Lookin’ good, Burgerpants!”  One of the restaurant’s regulars, a skinny dragon monster, laughed as they came back from the CORE.

They had a neck.  Brad could totally strangle them.  He wouldn’t even need bullets.

“Have a SPARKULAR day!!”  He shouted instead.

As if being stuck out here wasn’t hell enough, the universe glitched at least ten times before his break.  Was it because that goopy skeleton was nearby?  Brad never saw him when anyone else was around.

Once the CORE workers had all left their shift for the day, Brad glanced at the corner of the balcony.  There he was, seeping against the railing.  The goop skeleton.

Somehow, it was even more embarrassing that he’d seen Brad in this costume.

“Look.  I know you said you don’t, uh, control this world’s future or anything.  But you know there’s something wrong, right??”

The skeleton nodded and summoned his word-bones.

I AM SORRY.

“Sorry doesn’t make my life stop sucking, grandpa.  They’re gonna lock me up if I snap and punch Mettaton again.  Not that it would do much, since he is an indestructible robot, but still.”  He sighed and leaned his elbows against the railing.  “Does time screw up for you too?”

The man nodded again.

“Yeah.  Guess you would’ve fixed that if you could, then.”

Brad stared down into the abyss until the skeleton poked him with a bone.

MY SON KNOWS

ABOUT ANOMALIES IN THE TIMELINE.

PERHAPS YOU CAN HELP HIM.

“Your son…?  Wait, the comedian?  Or the loud one?”  The loud one had said they were brothers.  If this thing was their dad, well… that explained a lot.

BOTH, PERHAPS.  THEY ARE

BRILLIANT.

VERY 

BRILLIANT.

The skeleton smiled, but Brad wasn’t here to listen to him gush over his kids.

“What makes you think I can help them?  Shouldn’t they be helping me?”

THEY DO NOT SEE

WHAT YOU SEE.

PLEASE.

THEY CAN SEE YOU.

Brad’s head spun.  “Who do you think I am?  I just work at a burger shop!  I’m not even an actor!”

PLEASE.

THEY CAN SEE YOU.

The bones forming those words shook.  And then the mystery man vanished again.

XXX

“...I’m a stupid doodoo butt,” Brad said with every ounce of loathing in his body.

“Wow.  That’s, uh. Really immature.”  Sans grinned. 

Brad’s eye twitched.  “Are you kidding me??”

“Not only is it completely infantile… but it’s also my secret code word.” He winked.

Brad dug his claws into the counter with a metallic screech.  That wasn’t as satisfying as screaming, but it would have to do.

“Fantastic! So now that you know I’m a time traveler—”

“Woah, hang on.  You haven’t given me the super-secret code word.”

“Look,”  Brad snapped, his grin even wider than the skeleton’s.  He leaned over the counter so their faces were barely an inch apart.  “I have been living in some kind of Twilight Zone hell for the last three months.  That’s on top of normal customer service hell.  So if you think I’m, ha ha, just gonna sit here and let some wannabe comedian yank me around? Yeah, no.”

“Uh.  Geez, kid.”  Sans stepped back.  Though his hands were in his pockets, Brad noticed that half the ketchup packets were gone again.  “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I just want to stop going back in time.  That’s all.”

“Heh.  You and me both, kid.”  Sans looked away.  “You’re not doing it on purpose, then.”

“I’m not doing anything! I’m just trying to survive!!”

“Alright, alright.  Don’t get your whiskers in a knot.  But if you’re not the anomaly, then…” Sans ran a hand over his face.  “Guess it’s back to the drawing board.  Figures.”

“So you can’t help me?”  The goop skeleton had warned him, but he’d still hoped.  Hoping was his first mistake.

“Sorry.  Believe me, I would if I could.”

Brad wasn’t sure he believed that from the monster who’d made him say I’m a stupid doodoo butt just for fun.

“If you see anything weird, you’ll let me know, right? I might be able to do something then,” Sans said.

“I work in food service.  I see weird crap every day.”

“Fair enough. I mean someone who seems like they know too much.  Like they know things no one should be able to.”

Brad sighed.  It didn’t sound like too much extra work, though, so he agreed.

“Thanks.  Be seeing ya.”

When Brad blinked, he was gone.

He restocked the ketchup packets before Mettaton could notice how many were missing.

XXX

“BURGERPANTS! HOW ARE YOU DOING?”

Brad flinched at the loud skeleton’s voice.  Who’d told him that name?  Sans knew that his name was Brad.  He had a name tag!!

“How can I help you, O customer?” Brad turned away from the grill and grinned painfully.

“WOWIE!! ISN’T HE SO POLITE, FLOWERY?”

Flowery—?

Brad blinked at the flower wrapped around the skeleton’s arm.

“Golly, he sure is, Papyrus!”  The smile the flower gave rivaled Brad’s in fakeness.

Whatever.  Brad didn’t care if the customers liked him.

“WE’LL TAKE TWO STARFAITS!  THOSE DON’T HAVE A DISGUSTING AMOUNT OF GREASE!”

They definitely did, but Brad wasn’t about to tell him that.  

Brad put two Starfaits together, layering the “stardust” (glitter) and “fait” (soft serve ice cream) in between splashes of greasy cream.  It was the easiest item on the menu to make, as long as he didn’t spill the cream trying to go too fast.

Papyrus, unlike his brother, hadn’t taken any condiments while Brad’s back was turned.  That was refreshing.

“WOW! IT’S A WORK OF ART!  FLOWERY WAS RIGHT TO RECOMMEND THIS PLACE!!”

Brad raised an eyebrow.  “The flower told you to eat here?”  Brad had never seen him before in his life.  He was pretty sure he’d remember a talking flower in a place that tended to turn plant-based monsters to charcoal.

Suddenly the flower’s face turned demonic.

“It’s Flowey to you, Burgerpants.”

Brad blinked.  Was that supposed to scare him? After months of dealing with the weird skeleton family—on top of the usual freaky customers—one rabid flower was nothing.

“Sure.  That’ll be one hundred twenty G.”

Papyrus handed over the money without complaint, then took the two Starfaits.  He had to feed Flowey since the flower didn’t have arms, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Hmm.  Not bad,” the flower mumbled after taking a bite.

Brad served two more customers after them before time glitched again.

“BURGERPANTS! HOW ARE YOU DOING?”

“Somehow even worse.”

Papyrus frowned.  “OH NO!! I’M SORRY TO HEAR THAT.  IS THERE ANYTHING THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN DO TO MAKE YOUR DAY MORE WONDERFUL?”

“You can take my job,” Brad deadpanned.  

Papyrus would be better at it.   Mettaton would love his loud personality.  Too bad Brad needed this dead-end job just to survive.

“I WOULD LOVE TO! BUT, I AM ALREADY COMMITTED TO JOINING THE ROYAL GUARD.  AND I AM MORALLY OPPOSED TO GREASE.”

Right. Well, it was worth a shot.

“Hey.”  The flower cleared his throat.  “Burgerpants.”

“That’s not my name, Flowey.”

The glitches usually went on for at least three or four times in a row.  Brad could get away with being rude on the first glitch of the day. It wasn’t like anyone would—

“You remembered?”  Flowey gaped.

“EXCELLENT CUSTOMER SERVICE!  YOU WERE RIGHT TO RECOMMEND THIS PLACE, FLOWEY!”

“Shut up, Papyrus, this is—” The flower blinked, struggling for words.  “What did we order last time?”

Brad blinked back.  Today was the first time that Brad had ever seen the flower.  Was Flowey saying he remembered what happened in the time loop?  Not even the skeletons did that.

Now the question was, would it be smart to let the creepy flower know that Brad remembered, too?

“I’m sorry, ha ha, it’s against the rules to talk to customers who haven’t bought anything.”  There.  That would keep him from getting fired, and keep the flower off his back.  He was a genius.

“THAT RULE SOUNDS RATHER STUPID,” Papyrus said, but he one hundred twenty G on the counter.

“Oh golly, that’s not enough money, is it?”  Flowey put on the innocent facade again.

“IT’S JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT FOR TWO STARFAITS!”

“Oh.  I told you I wanted to try a Glamburger, but you must have forgotten…”

Brad scowled.  Was the creepy weed actually gaslighting the skeleton?  What kind of freaky mind games was he playing?

Whatever.  Brad didn’t get paid enough to interfere.  Papyrus apologized and added sixty more G.

This loop repeated two more times, until Flowey had tried each item on the menu.  Luckily, Brad was used to playing dumb.  When he fell back on his customer service script, it didn’t matter if he’d seen the same customer one time or one hundred.  By the time the omniscient flower was eating his Steak in the Shape of Mettaton’s Face, Brad didn’t look suspicious at all.

“Have a FABU-FUL day!!!”  Brad grinned.

And his boss thought he couldn’t be an actor.

XXX

“A talking flower, huh?”  Sans said in between messy bites of his Glamburger.  It was disgusting to watch, but somehow entrancing.  Like that one time the elevator had lost power and nearly dropped the nine a.m. shift into the CORE.

“Papyrus is your brother, right?  How did I find out about his flower friend before you?” Brad asked while scrubbing the grill.  A few stubborn sequins had melted to its surface.

“My bro likes his secrets, even if he doesn’t act like it.”

It sounded like the whole family was full of secretive weirdos.  Brad was an only child with a pretty terrible relationship with his own parents, but he was pretty sure he could talk to them if the the motions of time and space depended on it.

Then again, he hadn’t told them what had happened to him.  So maybe not.

“Anyway.  I’ll ask him about the flower thing.  That is pretty big leaf.”  

Was that supposed to be a pun on “lead”?  Wow.  Sans was even less funny than the comedian who went on stage and cried about his family.  Mettaton sure knew how to pick ‘em.

“For your help.”  Sans winked and slid something across the counter.

It was a single ketchup packet.  

Brad looked up to glare at him, but the skeleton was already gone.

XXX

Someone had massively screwed up.  Brad hoped it wasn’t him, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

Time was jumping all over the place.  Getting yanked back and forth was making him nauseous.  One second he’d be waiting for Mettaton to press his face into the steak, then the next he’d be back in his room, his alarm wailing at him to wake up.

He wanted to roll over and go back to bed.  Knowing his luck, though, any timeline where he slept in would be the one that stuck.

He wasn’t sure how much time had actually passed when a customer he didn’t recognize stepped up to the Burger Emporium.  Their head barely cleared the counter.

“Welcome to the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Glamburger.  Sparkle up your…”

He blinked.  The kid he was looking at wasn’t a monster.  Mettaton had made him wear a human costume enough times to recognize one.

The human kid set a grimy bandage on the counter and pushed it towards him.

“Do you, uh, need medical help?”  Brad forced a grin.  This was a human.  As in, the last human Asgore needed to break the barrier.  If they needed medical attention, that was a good thing.

The kid shook their head and asked if Brad would buy their used bandage.  Who did this kid think they were?  He didn’t get paid enough for this.

“You uh, must not have noticed.  This is a hamburger restaurant,” he said through a rigid smile.

The kid frowned and took the bandage back.  Brad hoped they would go away.

They didn’t.  They seemed intent to waste his whole shift, despite the line piling up behind them.

“I’m sorry, ha ha, it’s against the rules to talk to customers who haven’t bought anything,” he said, since that had helped him squirm out of talking to the flower before.  If it was a real rule, it was one that only applied to Brad.  Mettaton didn’t care what his other employees did.

The kid nodded in understanding and pointed to a Legendary Hero on the menu.  Brad didn’t want to think about what the kid would do with the attack buff it granted, but that wasn’t his problem.  He exchanged their gold for a subpar sandwich.

“Thanksy!  Have a FABU-FUL day!!!”

The kid gave him a weird look.  Yeah, he’d give himself a weird look if he could, too.  At least they finally left so he could serve the next disgruntled customer.

After the line cleared out, though, the kid was back to peering over the counter.

“What?  Why do you keep trying to talk to me?”

The kid shrugged.  Their voice was a quiet mumble; it was hard to make out the reason they gave.

Whatever.  If they were trying to talk to him, they weren’t trying to kill anyone.  

“I’ll get in trouble if I get chummy with the customers.  Sorry.”

They still didn’t leave.  They asked him why he was working here when he looked so unhappy.

He gave a hysteric little laugh. Maybe his acting skills still needed some polishing. 

“SO, I wanted to be an ACTOR…”

XXX

Brad had thought he couldn’t hate Mettaton any more than he already did, but man, was he wrong.  He didn’t care if he got fired; he closed the shop to watch his boss fight his new little buddy on live television.  

The kid kept dying.  And dying.  And somehow rewinding time to come back to life, but then, dying.  Were they the one controlling the glitches?  He always got thrown back whenever his little buddy died, though of course no one else could tell.

After one particularly brutal pounding, they came back to the counter and grumpily tossed him enough money for a Face Steak.  It was Brad’s last one.  With Mettaton now looking like a humanoid robot, would Brad have to learn a new Face Steak recipe?

“Here you go, little buddy,” he said while sliding them the plate.  “Good luck out there.”

The kid’s eyebrows scrunched.  Brad hadn’t told him what he remembered of the glitches, but he couldn’t help encouraging them a little.  He wanted to tell them how cool they looked posing on the stage.  Maybe they could be an actor and remember him when they made it big.

Even if they didn’t, at least they could kill his boss for him.  He’d appreciate that.

XXX

Asgore would never be able to kill Brad’s little buddy.  He realized that in the evening, when the glitches got faster and faster, when he could barely finish cooking an order before he was sent back in time.  Somehow, his little buddy could cheat death.  They’d be okay.

Which meant Brad was stuck here waiting for a different human to fall down and get murdered, but hey, he’d had pretty low expectations anyway.

Not low enough, though.  Because when the kid killed King Asgore, Mettaton of all monsters took his place.

Brad stood at the edge of the CORE and contemplated jumping in.

“Woah, uh.  Am I interrupting something?”  Sans asked while Brad had one leg over the railing.

“Aaaaaaa—no!  Of course not, ha ha, I was… just…” Brad swallowed and balanced on the bar, his tail drooping down to the ground.  “Trying to get a better view.”

“...Sure.”  Sans didn’t question him, which was probably his best quality.  He leaned his back against the railing, and Brad noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual stained hoodie.

“What’s with the suit?”

“Uniform.”  Sans tugged at his collar. His Mettaton-pattered tie was already loose.  “Your boss has an, uh, thing for fashion.”

Brad lowered himself back onto the balcony before he could actually fall into the CORE.  “You work for Mettaton now?  Wait, you always worked for him, didn’t you?”

“Now I’m his agent.”  Sans winked. 

Brad gaped.  “You’re.  What?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for the job.  My bro volunteered us both, and, well.  Someone’s gotta keep an eyesocket on the new king.”

Brad looked around to make sure no one was watching.  The balcony was deserted; the CORE workers hadn’t been showing up regularly since Mettaton took over.

“I’m not spying for you again.  Besides, he’s barely at the resort since he’s got a castle to live in now.”  Brad was still stuck in his hotel room-sized apartment.  He’d even had to furnish his own lightbulbs.

“Nothing like that,” Sans assured him.  “I just wanted to check.  Time hasn’t been jumping around since the kid left, has it?”

“You’re not going to tell Mettaton about that, are you?”

“I’m not—look, I could care less about the overgrown calculator.  I just want things to turn out better than this.”  He waved a hand, gesturing to everything.  “My only other source of information is gone.  Anything you can give me might help.” 

What was he planning to do?  Turn back time himself?  He couldn’t do that, could he?

“I’m just a minimum wage worker who wants to die,” Brad said bluntly.  “The only thing I know is that the universe hates me.”

Sans nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll see if I can get Mettaton to transfer you somewhere else, at least.  Maybe you’d have a better time working for Grillbz.”

Brad didn’t know who that was, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.  He’d never gotten to go out with Bratty and Catty, he’d never even gotten the Nice Cream Guy’s name, and he was probably never going to leave this greasehole.

If monster were made of hopes and dreams, then he didn’t need to jump into the CORE. He was dead already.

XXX

“Huh?  Everyone else is DEAD?”  Brad blinked at the little weirdo.  They might look like his old buddy, but they couldn’t be the same human.  Maybe travelling through time had made them evil.

But hey, they couldn’t be all bad.  They’d erased the timeline where Mettaton was king.

He lit a cigarette.  After the horrors he’d been through, smoking on the job was the least of his worries.

“That it were true, little weirdo.  That it were true.”

The human traded him five hundred G for a Face Steak, then told him to go to hell.

“Sorry, little weirdo.  Threats won’t work on me.”  He took a puff of his cigarette.  “I can’t go to hell.  I’m all out of vacation days.”

XXX

Huh.  Something felt… weird.  Not bad, just like… he’d woken up from a really long dream, or something?  A nightmare, more like.  He’d been watching the Mettaton-shaped clock, waiting for his shift to end for what felt like years.  No time glitches had ever lasted that long.  The only thing that broke the monotony was that little weirdo threatening him with a dusty knife, demanding another Face Steak…

Yeah, that one was probably just a normal MTT-brand Nightmare.

The date on his phone said September 15th.  That was the date his little buddy first showed up.  Well, at least he wasn’t in the timeline where Undyne enlisted everyone into her human-fighting army, or where Mettaton made monsters he didn’t like “disappear.”

(That it were him.  Oh, that it were him.)

Maybe he should actually talk to the kid, if they had something to do with all this time-weirdness.  He could give them advice about more than just hot people.  What did he know, though?  He was just a nineteen-year-old sellout who could somehow remember every wobble in the timeline.  Sans or Papyrus or the goopy skeleton could handle the sci-fi stuff.

Yeah, because they’ve done a great job of that so far, right?

Burgerpants sighed and got ready for the day.  He actually bothered to shower, even though the grease smell never completely washed out of his fur.  No time-glitches interrupted him this morning.

He wondered if each glitch really meant his little buddy had died.  It seemed pretty likely.

He was in about as good of a mood as he could be by the time the kid showed up to the Burger Emporium.  He made them buy something before talking to them, if only to keep up his oblivious charade for a bit longer.

“So, little buddy,” he said while watching them lick a Starfait.  “You’re a really good listener.”

They nodded like that was a given.

“You took my advice about attractive people, right?”

“Never talk to them,” the kid echoed back.  “Unless they’re your mom.”

Brad gave them a weird look.  “Close enough.  I guess you’re a little young to be picking up chicks...  Anyway.  Let me give you some more advice.  This is gonna be even more important, okay?”

They looked up intently.

“If you can do me a HUGE favor and not kill King Asgore, you’ll save us all a lot of trouble.”

They blinked.  Brad thought it was surprise he saw in their eyes.

“Yeah, I know.  He’ll probably try to kill you after you get through the CORE.  If you can’t help it, at least take out my boss on your way, okay?  I can’t live as the Underground’s official mascot again.”  

He shuddered.  Sans never had been able to get him that job with ‘Grillbz.’  Maybe the mysterious monster was one of the people Mettaton had made disappear.

His little buddy’s brow furrowed.  They looked away.

“You’re just doing your best, right?  I know how that is.”  He lit a cigarette with his shaking hands, but he kept his voice light.  “You gotta get back to the surface.  And I gotta stay at this stupid job, flipping burgers.”

“Are you saying…” the kid said quietly, “I should give Asgore my soul…?”

“Huh?  No, little buddy, you’re my pal!  I wouldn’t do that to you.”  They were the first person who was actually interested in him for reasons other than his supernatural time memory. They always listened to him vent without interrupting.  They were… well, they were probably the closest thing Brad had to a friend.

Man, he was pathetic.

“Maybe you could just... stick around here?” He suggested.  “I’ve seen your moves.  I bet together, we could make it big.  Bigger than my rectangle of a boss.”

The kid didn’t look convinced.  Fair enough.  Not everyone wanted to be a star.  

“Just think about us little guys when you’re out there, alight?  Not all of us can just off monsters who give us a hard time.”

The kid squirmed guiltily at that.  They didn’t ask how he knew so much, which was a surprise.  Maybe they knew other monsters with powers like his.

They bought another Starfait for the road and promised to remember his advice.

XXX

It wasn’t real.  It couldn’t be real.  After a day of slogging through the crowded capitol, he was here. 

He was on the surface.

Fresh air didn’t smell like burgers or ozone or cigarette smoke.  Man, the smell of the surface alone might be enough to make him quit.

Everyone was supposed to stay in orderly lines and follow the Royal Guard down the mountain.  His little buddy—Frisk, they’d finally said their name was—was probably down there, talking to humans about human things.  

He hoped they’d tell Mettaton that burgers weren’t supposed to include sequins or glue.  

He drummed his fingers against his leg as he waited in line.  He only had one small suitcase of clothes he hadn’t ditched.  His parents had probably brought more, but he hadn’t met up with them before leaving.  They’d either find him, or they wouldn’t.  That was the least of his worries.

More important was wondering what would happen to Frisk.  They’d somehow controlled time before.  They wouldn’t send everyone back Underground again, would they?  There were only so many September 15ths that Brad could take.

A shadow crackled from somewhere on Brad’s right.  He looked back and forth, but couldn’t find its source.

“Please,” he groaned.  He ignored the static noises for a while before finally sighing and stepping out of line to investigate the cliff wall.

“Skeleton guy?”  He asked under his breath.  Brad had never seen him anywhere besides the CORE entrance.  But hey, there was a first time for everything, and today was a day for firsts.

EXCELLENT WORK.

VERY 

EXCELLENT.

The skeleton grinned while writing with his bone attacks.  

“At least someone appreciates my hard work.”  Brad grinned back, suppressing a purr.  When had he last purred?  

The skeleton gave a staticy chuckle.

TELL MY SONS

I AM PROUD

OF THEM.

“You’re free, dude!  Can’t you tell them yourself?”  Frankly, Brad didn’t want to see the weird skeletons ever again.

The man shook his head sadly.

THIS IS AS FAR

AS MY ESSENCE

CAN REACH.

“Oh.”  Brad looked away.  “Wow.  That’s a bummer.”

IT IS

ALRIGHT.

I CAN SEE THE SUNLIGHT AGAIN.

THAT IS 

ENOUGH.

“That’s a pretty optimistic attitude for a guy who’s stuck here.”  Brad grimaced.  He’d thought that getting to the surface would be a new start for everyone.  It felt wrong to leave the goopy skeleton behind, even if he’d caused Brad more trouble than anything.

AND YOU SEEM PRETTY HAPPY

FOR A GUY WHO

ALMOST SHARED MY FATE.

Brad’s brow furrowed.  “I almost… wait, is this about when I, uh…”

He didn’t want to think about it.  Even when he’d had one leg over the railing, he wouldn’t have jumped.  No, that was just a stupid fantasy he came back to when life felt like too much.  He wasn’t sure if that made him a coward, or if it was the only smart decision he’d ever made.

He wouldn’t be seeing the sunrise right now if he were dead.

I FELL INTO THE CORE.

MY CREATION.

I DO NOT

RECOMMEND IT.

The CORE… was his…?  Geez, Brad had called him grandpa, but how old was this guy?

“Well.  Uh.  Sorry about that, man.”  Brad cleared his throat.  “I’ll tell your kids you said hi.”

The man smiled.

THANK YOU

BURGERPANTS.

Before Brad could correct him, the skeleton stretched into the shadows.

Brad sighed. Whatever. He'd been calling the guy goop man, so he couldn't really complain.

When he tried to return to the line, he found that his place had been taken, and he had to go back to the cavern entrance.  Par for the course, par for the course.

But hey, things could only go up from here, right?

Chapter Text

Brad wheezed as he struggled up the mountain path.  No matter how many times he trekked up here, it never seemed to get much easier.  He’d finally managed to kick cigarettes for at least a few weeks, but the smoke had probably damaged his lungs for good already. It would figure.

“DO YOU NEED A BREAK, MY FRIEND?” Papyrus asked, placing a gloved hand on Brad’s shoulder.

Brad wasn’t sure he’d call the tall skeleton a friend.  Brad was only doing this as a favor to the old goopy guy.  Assuming they were even able to see him today.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to one.” Brad leaned against a rough-barked tree.  If he were any less exhausted, it would’ve made a good scratching post.

“I BROUGHT SNACKS, IF YOU WOULD LIKE SOME!” Papyrus shook a ziploc bag.  Where had he pulled that out of? Nevermind, Brad didn’t want to know.

“...Are those dog treats?” His brow furrowed.

“THAT’S JUST A MARKETING JAPE! THEY’RE BELOVED BY MONSTERS OF ALL KINDS!” The skeleton pulled one out and tossed it in his mouth, crunching loudly.

“Uh… thanks, but I’m good.”

Brad sat down on a flat rock and pulled a thermos out of his backpack.  The water was cool and refreshing, and the ice still clinked inside the metal container.  Man, having easy access to ice was one of the best things about not living in Hotland.  Right after everything else about not living in Hotland.

“YOU KNOW, IT’S GREAT TO HAVE A FRIEND WHO APPRECIATES THE GREAT OUTDOORS AS MUCH AS I DO!” Another series of loud crunches.  “AND WHO WON’T GET US ARRESTED BY SUPLEXING ALL OF THE TREES IN RESTRICTED AREAS.”

Brad opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again.  The less he knew about his “friend’s” criminal activities, the better.

“IT’S TOO BAD I COULDN’T CONVINCE SANS TO HIKE WITH US. IT WOULD BE GOOD FOR HIS BONES!”

Brad shrugged. “Hey, if I could teleport up to the top, I’d be right up there with him.”

Papyrus groaned. “NOT YOU TOO!!”

Brad knocked back another gulp of water, then kept walking.  Papyrus constantly had something to say about the beautiful view, or the sounds of the birds, or how healthy they were being, or how much his brother was missing out.  The background noise made the hike less relaxing, but at least it gave Brad something to focus on other than how out of shape he was.

“WOWIE!  WE’RE HERE ALREADY!  TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE HAVING FUN, DOESN’T IT?”

Brad took deep, gasping breaths of the mountain air.  Time had felt like it was crawling as slowly as he was.  But here they were, standing at the peak of Mount Ebott.  Finally.

“Hey, bro.  Long time no see.” Sans winked at Papyrus, then nodded at Brad. “How are ya holding up?”

“Terribly,” he groaned honestly, prompting Papyrus to pat his back and laugh.

“BRAD’S A HIKER EXTRAORDINAIRE!  HE ONLY THREW UP ONCE!”

“Nice.” Sans grinned.

“I’m regretting everything about this,” Brad grumbled.

There was only one reason he’d asked the skeleton brothers to come to the top of the mountain today.  If he could somehow get them to see their dad, then the goopy man wouldn’t be so lonely, and Brad could stop feeling so bad for him. No more guilt-driven hiking trips. No more playing chess on a board scratched in the dirt, or listening to bad science puns, or discussing Brad’s doomed acting career. 

Brad frowned.  Hell, he wasn’t getting sentimental, was he?

“Not that I don’t love a good view,” Sans started, “but I know we’re not your two favorite monsters in the world. We’re probably number three and four.”

Brad snorted.  Sans might be annoying, but he wasn’t stupid.

“You’re wondering why I wanted you to come here.”

“IT WAS RATHER SURPRISING,” Papyrus admitted.  “NOT THAT I WOULD EVER ACCUSE A FRIEND OF HAVING ULTERIOR MOTIVES!”

Right.  Papyrus wasn’t so quick to be fooled, either.

“Yeah, yeah.  Just didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Brad admitted, scratching the back of his neck.  “If this whole surprise is a bummer, you at least got a day off for it.”

“Hey, can’t complain about that,” Sans said.

Brad let the two of them over to the cave.  The entrance to the Underground.  The hellhole that had been his prison for the first nineteen years of his life.  After months of visiting, it just felt like a regular hole.

Papyrus’s eyesockets narrowed.

“I’M NOT SURE I LIKE THIS SURPRISE.” 

“You leave something behind you need our help to bring up?” Sans asked, shifty-eyed as well.  “Cause ya know, there are cheaper moving services. My rate’s 5,000G per item.  That’s, uh, 1,000 in dollars.  Don’t know what kind of job you’ve got now, but I’m sure you’ve got better stuff to spend your money on.”

Brad didn’t actually have a job yet.  Thankfully, despite everything else that sucked about it, the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium had given him a good severance package.  He got the feeling that Mettaton was just thrilled to have him out of his perfectly-oiled hair.

“C’mon, old man.  I know you’re around here.”  Brad squinted into the darkness.  “Don’t make me look like an idiot in front of your kids.”

“What,” Sans deadpanned.

“IS THIS A JOKE? SANS, DID YOU PUT HIM UP TO THIS??”

Brad snorted.  Like he’d let Sans put him up to anything.  He’d had enough wacky skeleton hijinks to last several lifetimes, thanks.

“If this is payback for the codeword thing, there are way easier ways to get back at me.  Like paying my tab at Grillby’s. Or laughing at my hilarious jokes.”

“If anyone’s getting pranked here, it’s me,” Brad muttered before shouting out into the void.  “Hey, Goop Man!  Throw me a bone, here!”

His voice echoed back from the darkness.  

“Welp. Thanks for this, uh, interesting break—”

Sans was cut off by a bone flying out of the cave.  Brad narrowly managed to duck, and it hit Papyrus in the clavicle.

“NYEH?” He caught it before it fell to the ground. 

Brad’s fists clenched.  Throw him a bone.  The goop monster had actually thrown him a bone.

“Oh, so you can make puns, but you can’t just talk to your freaking kids,” Brad called.  “I was doing this to help you, you know!  You could at least TRY to meet me halfway!”

More bones appeared out of the darkness.  This time, though, they hovered in the air, spelling words in the way Brad was used to by now.

I TOLD YOU.

THEY CANNOT

SEE ME.

“Uh.  Burgerbrad. Don’t know who your weird bonefriend is, but I can definitely read what they’re saying.”

“See!  You can talk to them!” Brad’s grin was maybe just a little unhinged. “You care about them, right?? You wouldn’t just leave your kids on the surface and never talk to them again!”

“I’m sensing a lot of projecting, here.”

“Shut up.” Brad whirled and poked Sans in the sternum.  “Your dad loves you, and you’re going to get a happy teary reunion, and you’re going to like it.”

Papyrus blinked down at him.  “...WE HAVE A DAD?”

A crackling sigh echoed from the cave.  Brad jumped, his tail standing on end.

I AM SORRY

MY SONS.

Out of the shadows, the melting skeleton finally slid forward.  That lopsided grin was still present on his skull, but after months of sporadic visits, Brad didn’t find it so unsettling anymore.

“You can see him, right??” Brad gripped Papyrus’s shoulder.  “Please tell me you can see him.”

“I… YES.” Papyrus’s voice was surprisingly quiet.  He shook off Brad’s hand, stepping towards the darkness.  “DAD?”

Black tears congealed under the monster’s eyesockets. His grin split wider than Brad had ever seen it.

YOU CAN?

SEE ME??

!!!!????

“Dad,” Sans breathed. “I… how did we… how could we forget…?”

The goopy monster slid forward, his form flickering a bit in the light.

DO NOT BLAME 

YOURSELVES

PLEASE.

I NEVER

WANTED

The floating bones shook, the letters falling apart faster than the man could spell.  The goopy skeleton wiped his eyes, and tar-like tears stuck to his holepunched hands.

“Can you guys read signs?” Brad asked. “He’s better with those.  Probably.  I mean, I can’t actually read them, which is why he talks like this—”

Sans’s hands started moving so fast Brad could hardly see them.  The goop man’s eyelights went so bright, they practically lit up the whole inside of his skull.

“Great.” Brad let out a sigh of relief.  “I’ll leave you to it.”

Papyrus caught his shoulder before he could step out of their way.

“BRAD.”

Suddenly, he pulled him into a hug tight enough to pop Brad’s back.

“THANK YOU,” he whispered. “THANK YOU.”

“Don’t mention it,” Brad grunted out, then sucked in air when the skeleton finally released him.

He crept over to the edge of the cliff while the skeletons had their tearful reunion. It sounded just as dramatic as he’d hoped, punctuated with laughs and sobs and hugs on all sides.

He’d done his job.  The goopy skeleton had his real family now.  He didn’t have to rely on Brad for contact with the outside world.  The man wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in Brad’s life or his dreams.

He plopped down at the cliff’s edge, blinking back the tears that pricked his eyes.  Just from staring too close to the sun, that was all.  It wasn’t like he was going to miss these boring hiking trips.  He had plenty of other things to do in his spare time.  Like making friends who weren’t trapped in the shadow of his old home.

Oh, who was he kidding? 

“BRAD!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?” Papyrus called. “DAD WANTS TO SEE YOU!”

Brad stood, squinting in confusion.  Why would the old man want to see him?

Still, he joined them—and nearly screamed when the guy wrapped him in a goopy hug.

“He says thanks,” Sans translated from the extra set of hands that were floating next to the man’s head.  “And that, uh, that you’re the connection.  That’s why he can see us, apparently.  Thanks to you.”

The man released him with a muffled squelch.  Thankfully, the black substance evaporated as soon as it lost contact with the man’s body.

“HE ALSO SAYS YOU’RE AN HONORARY GRANDSON!” Papyrus grinned.

“Heh.  Which one of us do you think should be his dad, then?” Sans grinned back.

“Oh geez.” Brad rubbed his forehead, pushing down a hysteric laugh.  When he’d been jealous of their family reunion, this wasn’t what he had in mind.

But… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? At least these monsters didn’t hate him.  Or pretend he didn’t exist.  Or tell him he was stupid or worthless and not even good enough for a dead-end food service job.

“Thanks, uh, goop man,” he said when everyone looked at him expectantly.

Sans burst out laughing.  

“Goop man?” 

“He never told me his name!” Brad protested, his face going hot.  “Besides, he called me Burgerpants!!”

MY NAME

IS

WINGDINGS, the man spelled out in bones, grinning all the while.

Brad blinked.

“You’re kidding,” he deadpanned. “Wingdings?”

“WINGDINGS GASTER!” Papyrus clarified. “W.D. FOR SHORT. HE COULDN’T HAVE TOLD YOU HIS NAME BEFORE, SINCE HE ONLY JUST REMEMBERED IT.”

Wingdings shrugged apologetically.

“If you’re really gonna be a Gaster, you’re gonna have to learn to sign,” Sans said.  “Can’t go making Gramps spell everything out for ya.”

Brad groaned.

“DON’T WORRY!  I’M A GREAT TEACHER!” Papyrus beamed.

“Yeah, if you can get me a job with work hours that’ll allow it,” Brad said sarcastically.  It was hard enough for monsters to jobs on the surface, much less a total screw-up like— 

“DONE! UNDYNE’S LOOKING FOR NEW EMPLOYEES AT HER GYM.  NOW YOU’LL BE ABLE TO EXERCISE YOUR BODY, AND I’LL HELP EXERCISE YOUR MIND!”

Brad’s jaw dropped. Undyne? Like, the head of the Royal Guard Undyne?? Well, there wasn’t a Royal Guard anymore, but still—Brad didn’t care how out of shape he was, a job like that would make chicks dig him faster than a lifetime of free burgers!

“Deal.” He held out his hand, and Papyrus shook it.

They hung out with Grandpa Wingdings for about another hour, until the sun started to get low on the horizon.  Brad introduced Sans and Papyrus to Dirt Chess.  The skeletons introduced him to Bone Charades, which like regular charades, but using bone attacks as props. Brad put his acting skills to good use and got them to guess that he was an astronaut.

“Welp.  Same time next week?” Sans smiled at Grandpa Wingdings, who nodded back, eyelights still shining like stars.

Brad wasn’t sure if he could handle all three skeletons every week.  But, he figured he could give it a try.  Especially if Sans could “shortcut” them all next time. 

“What do you MEAN you can teleport other people too??”

“Hey, you told my bro you wanted the exercise.” Sans winked. “It’s good for your bones.”

There was no one else around.  Brad made good use of that fact, and screamed.