Chapter Text
Two sets of boots crunched against the snow, each step leaving a clear imprint in the powder. Frisk, ever eager to be your guide, walked by your side, their expression neutral. A week has passed since you arrived in the Underground, and today marked the first time Papyrus allowed you to venture outside.
Not that you hadn't tried escaping multiple times, but the taller skeleton proved to be more observant than you gave him credit for, and each attempt ended in failure. He insisted you needed more time to heal, and it was only when you proved you could walk without wincing or stumbling that he finally let you go out.
The corners of your lips twitched upward as you glanced at Frisk, who animatedly shared tales of Snowdin as they gave you the 'official tour.' However, a genuine smile struggled to form, your senses buzzing with an undercurrent of tension. Instinctively, your grip tightened around the edges of your oversized jacket. Despite the captivating stories, the snow-covered landscape failed to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your core.
Ever since you landed in the Underground, there has been no sign of the Shadowbringer. Most people, most normal people, would be relieved, maybe even brushing off the danger completely. However, the fact only served to unnerve you, and if it weren't for Papyrus and Frisk, you would've searched all of the Underground by now. A light snore draws you away from your worries as you and Frisk approach a small stand. Slumped over the table, fast asleep, was none other than the older skeleton brother. His jacket moved with each inhale, his smile still in place as his snoring continued.
How does he snore or even breathe? He's a skeleton. You thought, moving to stand in front of the guard station.
*And here is where Sans works. Frisk told you, pointing at the slumbering monster. You smirked, stuffing your hands in your pocket.
"Oh yeah, he seems like he's doing loads of work." You quipped, the corners of your lips lifting in amusement as you watched Sans sleep. He shifts slightly, and you stiffen, only to relax when his snoring once again continues. To say your relationship with Sans was strained would be an understatement. Despite his attempt to play nice, it was obvious he didn't trust you in the slightest. He always kept a watchful eye on you, like he's worried you're gonna one day snap and kill everyone in the underground.
You understood it stemmed from your magic and humanity. Still, it irked you that he hates you because of something you couldn't help. In a way, it's hypocritical. Letting out a breath, you step back, letting your gaze fall to Frisk. Despite his hatred, you weren't going to stoop to his level.
"We should probably go before we wake him up," you suggested. "Got anything else you wanna show me?" Frisk nodded eagerly, rushing ahead without another word. You chuckled, briefly observing the child before chasing after them.
"Hey, Slow down, kid!" You shout after them, both laughing as you quickly rush to catch up. As you run, you don't notice the lidded socket that opens, white eye lights following your figure as you fade from view.
You both walked in silence through the thick wooded forest. The only sounds that dared to break the quiet were the crisp crunch of snow underfoot and the soft murmur of frozen branches. As the seconds passed and you both traveled closer to the unknown destination, you noticed the tiniest of changes in Frisk.
Their expression morphed into something more somber, brown eyes gazing into the distance. It was a haunting gaze you recognized all too well, that of someone ensnared in the clutches of their own memories. You bit the inside of your cheek, allowing the noise of the forest to wash over you like a thick blanket.
Something in the distance caught your attention, and your eyes widened slightly. Before, you were a colossal set of doors. Towering spirals of ancient stone framed the the entryway, reaching skyward, almost like outstretched fingers. The stones, weathered and aged, bore the marks of countless seasons, their surfaces etched with the proud scars of time. Despite the wear and tear, it wasn't crumbling by any means. It stood proudly, seeming unswayed by the snow and wind. You both stopped, one staring at the doors in confusion, the other in remembrance.
How is it beautiful and creepy at the same time? Frisk advanced toward the towering doors, gently laying a hand upon the cold stone. A heavy sigh escaped them, a wistful breath, as their arm descended slowly back to their side.
Frisk's emotions were always veiled by a face of uninterest, but it was as if their mask had cracked, unearthing the turmoil that brewed beneath the surface. The pure longing and sadness in their eyes struck your soul like a bullet; you couldn't help but wonder what happened here that was so important.
What does this place mean for them? You lingered in the shared silence, granting them a few more moments of thought before allowing your own curiosity to take over.
"What is this place?" Carefully, you approached them as they snapped out of their thoughts. Once again, the mask slipped back into place as they turned to face you.
*This is the ruins. Inside is where I fell into the underground... and it's where I met Goat mom for the first time. At first, Toriel wouldn't let me leave the ruins saying it was too dangerous. But, after insisting, she let me, but told me I couldn't return. You figured there was more to the story by how they clenched their hands, but you said nothing. Just listening as they spoke.
*Before Toriel, I'd never had anyone to care for me like she did. She treated me like her own child, made me snail pies, tucked me in at night... They trailed off, their gaze lingering on the stone doorways.
"Did you have any family on the surface?" Your question hung in the air, and Frisk's eyes momentarily flickered to the distant horizon. A hesitancy lingered in the silence before they gently shook their head.
*No. When I was two, I was abandoned at the doorstep of an orphanage in Ebbot. I had a few friends, but no one I really miss. Their eyes, once fixed on the horizon, now turned toward you *The monsters are my family now, and I'll do anything to get them to the surface. A spark of determination ignited in their eyes, a flame fueled by an unyielding resolve. It wasn't merely a sentence; it was a promise. You smiled; there was something in Frisk you recognized in yourself, their promise sparking memories of your own.
"I know you will," You reassured them; your grin faded into something softer as you placed a hand on their shoulder. The wind rustled through their short hair as they stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite recognize. "and trust me when I say you will see Toriel again," you added, your words carrying a quiet certainty.
The words hung in the silence as something akin to hope flashed across their face. Your only warning was their face scrunching before Frisk wrapped their arms around you. You stumbled from the unexpected force, patting their head with a silent chuckle when you regained your footing.
A minute passed as you gently stroked your fingers through their short hair in what you hoped was a comforting manner. Their grip was tight; your coat balled up in their hands as Frisk buried their face into your chest. With a quiet exhale, they stepped back, allowing you the freedom to move once more.
*Thank you. Your response was a nod, stuffing your hands back into the warm confines of your pockets.
"We should probably head back, maybe go to that restaurant you were talking about." Frisk perked, eagerly nodding as they strode ahead, you following close behind. However, before they had taken even a couple of steps, they stopped, turning back toward you. Raising an eyebrow, you tilted your head.
"What is it?"
*You said before you and the shadow-bringer were banished from your universe. You stiffened, breath catching in your throat as an uneasy knot formed in your stomach.
Did Frisk know he's here, that I sent a murderer to their universe? Dread filled your gut, a sour taste on your tongue as you stared at the kid in apprehension.
You gulped, shifting on your feet. "Yeah. I remember..."
*What about your family? Can you ever see them again? You let out a breath, relief flowing through your veins as you slumped. That was until you remembered what they had asked you. You shook your head, another kind of emptiness taking residence in your chest, like a weight had found its place there.
"Perhaps in another life." You murmured softly. The admission left a bitter aftertaste, a yearning for something irretrievably lost. Frisk blinked at you, and you forced yourself to smile with a shake of your head. “It's alright though. Because of me, they are alive, and that's all that matters." Frisk's eyes bore into yours, a flicker of understanding passing silently between you.
In a way, we were so different, yet so similar. For both of us, there was nothing outside of the Underground. Frisk watched you, their lips twitching into a frown, until suddenly, they grabbed your hand.
*If you want, you can be a part of my family. Eyes wide, you stared, your breath hitching. You waited as if expecting them to say something else, but they didn't, only staring at you with those eyes filled with unwavering sincerity and determination. A warmth that wasn't there before filled you, a heat building behind your eyes as you tried to blink away your growing tears. As you ruffled their hair, you hoped they didn't catch the glisten of tears in your eyes.
"I'd be honored Frisk." Frisk swatted away your hand with a smile, shooting you a glare as they fixed the now fuzzy mess. Frisk's beaming grin, accompanied by their messy hair, lifted the weight from your chest, and this time, when you smiled, it was genuine.
* * * * *
Grillby's, as Frisk called it, was nestled in a quiet corner of the town of Snowdin. Frisk was the first to enter, and you swiftly followed after kicking your boots against the wood to remove the remnants of snow. When you enter, you are immediately met with the thick aroma of sizzling burgers, the tantalizing scent weaving through the air like a savory spell.
Soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow, casting a golden hue over the rustic wooden tables and worn barstools. Monsters converse, occasionally interrupted by a roaring wave of laughter. The wooden floors bear the marks of countless footsteps, worn but sturdy, and at the bar counter, polished by years of use, sits a familiar skeleton. Frisk immediately spots Sans, running up to them as they slide onto a bar stool beside them. Sans blinks lazily, his grin widening slightly as Frisk rapidly signs to him.
He chuckles, waving them to a stop. "slow down, kid; I can barely ketchup with you." With that, he lifts a ketchup bottle, wearing a mischievous grin as Frisk tries not to laugh. Sans sees through this, a smirk on his face as he takes a swig of the condiment.
You grimace, nose crunching in disgust. Is he drinking ketchup... Unable to watch the bizarre sight any longer, you force yourself to move away from the doorway, your boots echoing softly against the floor. A peculiar hush descends upon the bar, and you become acutely aware of the monsters freezing in their tracks, their eyes glued onto your figure.
The sudden silence echoes loudly as you navigate your way to the bar, sliding into the only available seat that happens to be beside Sans. He shifts slightly, his eyelights zeroing in on you as the corners of his perpetual grin tighten. The air becomes thick with an awkward tension as you meet his gaze, feeling suffocatingly uncomfortable. It's clear that all the patrons in the bar are staring at you, their whispers dancing through the air.
Suddenly, you feel hot, and with a slight cough, you slowly remove your winter jacket, instead tying it around your waist. Well, this is awkward. Trying to break the thick tension, you force a smile, playfully gesturing to the ketchup bottle currently in Sans's bony grip.
"You mustard be insane for drinking ketchup like that." Sans seems surprised, his eyelights glinting with amusement as his smirk reappears. Surprisingly, the one joke seems to have a ripple effect, calming the rest of the monsters as the chatter in the bar gradually returns to its lively state.
"heh, don't knock it till you try it, could be a rib-tickling experience." Sans quips back, taking another casual swig. You visibly gag, and he chuckles, placing the drink back down as he turns back to Frisk.
You silently watch them talk, making a conscious effort not to interrupt. Sans may not care for you, but at least, for the moment, he doesn't seem inclined to attack you for simply blinking too fast. Feeling a sense of boredom settling in, your attention shifts, and at that very moment, you catch the bartender emerging from the backroom. Your mouth falls open as you stare at the literal living ball of fire making its way toward you. Your initial shock gives way to curiosity as he stops in front of Sans, sliding a plate with a burger and fries in front of the skeleton.
"thanks, grillby," Sans says, immediately stuffing a fry into his mouth. This was the first time you'd ever seen it open. A part of you even thought his teeth were permanently stuck that way. The skeleton senses your stare, turning toward you with a lifted brow. Your cheeks turn red, quickly adverting your gaze.
"No problem, Sans." Grillby's words are muddied, somewhat drowned out by what sounds like the cracking of fire. The fire monster turns toward you, and unconsciously, you stiffen. "Who is this?" Grillby wonders, his voice low and soft.
Sans shrugs, seeming bored as his eyelights land on the bartender. "that's [name]; they're staying with me and Paps for a while." Straightening, you send the fire monster a grin, extending your hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Grillby seems surprised, but it quickly fades as he takes your hand, giving it a hearty shake. To your relief, his hand doesn't burn; instead, it feels warm and surprisingly human-like.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, young lady," Grillby says, pulling his hand back. With that, he returns to work, grabbing another plate of food and walking over to a table full of patrons in the corner, seamlessly blending into the lively customers. Sans resumes his conversation with Frisk, who seems to be animatedly signing something to him. From what you hear, Frisk is retailing their day with you. Your attention, however, shifts towards the flames dancing behind Grillby's glasses as he once again tends to the bar.
The chatter of monsters, the sizzle of burgers on the grill, and the occasional burst of laughter create a comforting symphony as your thoughts still. You find yourself settling into the warmth of Grillby's as a sense of peace settles over your bones, something you hadn't felt since you arrived in Snowdin.
"You seem new here." A soft voice says, drawing you from your thoughts. You straighten, turning toward the newcomer to find a monster seated beside you. She was a yellow lizard-like creature, but to your surprise, she had no arms; all she had was a smooth lizard belly and two horns on her head.
"Name's Liz," she offers, nodding in your direction. You reciprocate the gesture, introducing yourself as the conversation between you and Liz flows effortlessly. She asks you questions about your time in the Underground, and you politely answer, asking her the same. She only laughs. A few minutes pass before Grillby sets a drink in front of her, and instead of grabbing it, it floats, engulfed in a light yellow.
"It was a pleasure to talk to you. If you see me, feel free to say hi!" Liz says happily, sending you a toothy grin as she walks back to her table, the cup still floating above her. As you wave goodbye to Liz, Frisk nudges your shoulder, gesturing towards San as he leans against the bar.
*Do you like stars?
Frisk's question catches you off guard as you tilt your head. You follow their gaze to Sans, who is now glancing at the ceiling with a contemplative expression. Questions fill you, but instead of asking them you turn back to Frisk.
"Yeah, I do." You answer, leaning your cheek into your hand. "In fact, I love them." You reply a grin on your lips. San's gaze drifted from the ceiling to you, and for a moment, his mask slipped, his eyelights trained on you.
*Sans has never seen them before, and I'm trying to explain how they look to him, but I can't seem to find the words.
You nod, humming in contemplation. In an instant, you are transported back to those nights on the cliffside, gazing at the stars alongside someone you once considered a friend.
"First, imagine a black sky, void of anything, just black and clear. Then imagine a single twinkle in the sky, small yet somehow visible from where you stand. Then another, and another. And more and more until the whole sky is filled with specks of light. Some stand alone, burning brightly in solitude, while others form constellations, telling stories passed down from generation to generation."
As you spoke about the stars, your attention shifted to Sans, and you noticed something peculiar in his demeanor. His normally lazy eyelights widened, a subtle glimmer of curiosity surfacing in his sockets. The perpetual half-smile that is always on his face seemed to soften.
"Some shine with a steady, unwavering glow, while others flicker like distant flames. Each one is unique, some of them even a different color." You pause, snapping out of your thoughts.
It's then you notice the audience you have gathered. Grillby himself, the living ball of fire, showed a hint of disbelief in the flickering flames behind his glasses. Frisk's eyes glowed with curiosity, absorbing every word with the innocence only a child could possess. While Liz, the lizard-like monster you had just met, watched with a warm smile, her tail swaying gently.
You swallow, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Staring at the stars reminds me of home, I guess." You finish awkwardly, shifting in your seat.
Sans is the first to break the silence, fiddling with the plate in front of him. "Sounds pretty out of this world." he quipped, his usual humor returning, but there was a lingering wistfulness in his words. A quiet acknowledgment of a distant desire. However, whatever you saw was quickly smothered as he masked the fleeting emotions that had momentarily surfaced.
You play along despite the way your chest hurts, offering him a weak smile. "You're not wrong." You laugh, your gaze softening. "One day, you'll see those stars for yourself, Sans." He raises a brow, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eye lights.
"doubt it, but who knows? life's full of surprises, after all." You locked eyes, and in that moment, you could see what he was unmistakably feeling.
Hope.
Quickly, as if catching himself, he turned, placing down his ketchup with a small thump. "we should prob head back; it's getting close to the kids' bedtime," he commented, ruffling Frisk's head. When he turned back to you, however, the warmth in his eyelights seemed to cool, a subtle detachment settling in.
"you coming with?" he asked, his tone blank. The glimmers of hope you had seen moments ago were now guarded, concealed again behind the familiar façade.
"I'm good. I'll walk back," you replied casually, choosing not to reveal your desire to walk back alone, just in case a lingering scent of shadow magic caught your attention. He eyed you skeptically but ultimately shrugged, wrapping an arm around Frisk.
"no skin off my bones," He says, sending you a tight smile. You return it, as Frisk looks in between you both, sensing the tension with a raised brow. Without uttering another word, they and Sans vanished from sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts. With a sigh, you donned your coat and rose from your seat. Discouraged and silent, you exited the warm bar, greeted immediately by the biting cold against your cheeks. For a moment, you stand there.
Once again, the weight in your chest returned, heavier than before. Standing in the chilly air, your breath came out in white puffs as you buried your hands into your pockets. For a minute, you had thought that perhaps you and Sans were becoming friends. But, no matter what you did, no matter what you said, it was like the monster was determined to hate you. Groaning in frustration, you kicked the snow in front of you, watching as it dispersed into a cloud of white.
I don't get it. What did I do to make him hate me so much? The gnawing feeling of loneliness surged in your gut, washing out any sense of joy you might've had. Talking about the stars like that had sparked memories you'd rather forget. Memories of a life you once had. Clenching your teeth, you ventured into the woods, your thoughts racing as you made your way back to the house.
The woods returned to thier quiet state, leaving you with your angry thoughts and fears to echo in the silence. It was only when the distinct sound of shifting snow rustling behind you that you stopped, brows furrowing in annoyance.
"What do you want?" you snapped, the crisp sound of your voice slicing through the quiet air. You paid no attention to the soft pop that sounded beside you. Flowey, with his stupid grin, appeared, his beady eyes narrowing as he deliberately placed himself in front of you.
"That's not a very nice way to greet a friend," he sneered, his tone a mocking blend of cheerfulness. Despite his words, his eyes remained devoid of emotion, a facade of sadness playing on his face. With a scoff, you glared down at him, your magic flaring.
"We aren't friends," you retorted icily. The twisted flower continued to smirk, his eyes unblinking as he stared at you with a peculiar intensity. A shiver not from the cold rushed down your spine, unease filling your throat.
"And here I was trying to help you with your little problem," he chirped happily, a sinister sway in his movements as he rocked from side to side. Your eyes narrowed further, your posture unwavering as you stared down at him, the biting cold sinking into your bones.
"What problem?" you inquired, feigning nonchalance, though an uncomfortable twist gnawed at your gut, something you recognized to be dread. The flower's grin expanded into something more manic, seeming amused by your hatred.
"You're looking for somebody," he declared with a chilling certainty. The blood in your veins ran cold, a gust of wind rustling through your hair as you stared in silent horror. Swiftly stifling the growing panic, you forced your magic to calm. Flowey, however, seemed to pick up on the change. His smile sharpened as he let out a cackle, the sound echoing through the wintry stillness.
"Seems I've caught your interest," he mused, reveling in the discomfort he had caused. Your fists clenched, teeth grinding as your disdain for this demonic plant intensified with each passing second.
"What do you know?" you demanded. The air grew colder as your words hung in the thickening tension. This time, Flowey erupted in laughter, his thorny vines convulsing as if he were hitting an invisible table beneath the snow. When his fit subsided, he stared up at you with an unsettling disbelief, his beady eyes gleaming maliciously.
"What, you think I'm just going to tell you?" The flower chortled, relishing in your growing anger. Weariness crept over you, your magical energy sparking as your palm emitted a soft blue glow, summoning your blade.
"Either tell me or stop wasting my time," you gritted. His game of riddles and twisted amusement had worn thin, and your patience dwindled with each passing moment. Flowey rolled his eyes, but the subtle quiver of his petals betrayed a growing sense of fear beneath his defiant facade.
"Now, now, no need for violence. I'll tell you, but only if you give me your soul after you fix your problem." His offer hung in the air, and you blinked in response. The tip of your sword dropped to the snow. Your laughter reverberated through the frosty forest, wheezing from your chest as Flowey glared up at you in disgust.
"Why are you laughing?" he growled, his thorny vines emerging from the snow. You coughed, your laughter fading into a few stray giggles as you attempted to regain your composure.
"You seriously think I would agree to that?" you spluttered, your sword dissolving in a flash of light. Boredom replaced amusement as you stepped over him, resuming your walk. "If he's here, I'll find him myself," you called back, the laughter in your voice fading as you tucked your hands into your pockets once more.
Flowey seemed stunned, his vines falling limply onto the snow. His wide eyes followed your retreating figure, disbelief etched across his face. Suddenly, snapping out of his stupor, he burrowed into the snow, reappearing right in front of you.
"Don't ignore me!" he exclaimed, his form shaking in frustration. You slowed to a stop, lips pursed in a thin line. Leaning closer, you watched as unease crept across Flowey's twisted features.
"What's his name?" you questioned. Flowey paused, confusion in his eyes. A sigh escaped you, your gaze hardening in annoyance. "The person I am looking for," you clarified.
Flowey wilted, averting his gaze as he mumbled, "W-well..." You interrupted him with a scoff, straightening as you stared down at him, boredom sprawled on your face.
"Next time you try to lie to me, maybe work on your acting.” With that, you continued down the path, the magic within you fading into nothing once more. Flowey turned, rage contorting his face as he cursed you out, promising you’d regret ignoring him. However, he made no move to chase after you, and eventually, his voice faded, unheard in the whistling wind of the forest.