Chapter Text
"Come out, come out, girly!" The man's voice echoed through the alleyway. Frisk scurried behind an abandoned pallet and peered through the slats. She could see the bloody knife in the murderer's hand, and could see the blood in between the bricks of the alley. Thankfully, she couldn't see the corpses, but she knew that they were there, just out of sight. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
The man's gruff voice stopped, and Frisk could hear heavy breathing making the alleyway sound like a tunnel of wind. Footsteps echoed through the street, and Frisk strained to see who it was. She couldn't tell who the steps belonged to, but the man with the knife seemed rather concerned about it.
"Well, what do we have here?" Frisk heard the shuffle of feet as the man who had just murdered her parents turned. He was radiating fear and anger, but she held her breath. The person who had spoken had a very deep voice, and she could see two pairs of legs. One pair wore dark blue pinstripe trousers, while the other was wearing flashy red trousers. "Some bozo trespassing on our turf," the deep voice said.
"Not even an innocent at that," another voice said. This one was higher, a tenor, and Frisk felt hot tears running down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make as little sound as possible. "And you know what we do with guilty people, don't you?" the high voice said. It was male, but not as deep as the first's bass.
"How about we show him, eh Pap?" the deep voice said again. There was a shuffle of feet from the man who had murdered her parents, and he was very close to Frisk's hiding place behind the pallet.
"Yes, brother." The suited men were brothers, apparently. Frisk felt another tear roll down her cheek. There were a few loud slaps of footsteps as the murderer ran away. "What a terrible person."
"Yeah, too bad he got away... And too bad for these poor people." The men were looking at her parent's bodies. Frisk couldn't help it, she whimpered and curled into a ball.
"What was that?" the higher voice asked.
"I don't know, probably a cat," the lower voice answered, walking out of the alley.
"I'm gonna check it out." A few footsteps came towards her, and Frisk felt the pallet move away from her body. Frisk saw the red pants, and looked up into the man's face. The man didn't have a face. He was a skeleton, a tall skeleton in a red suit and fedora. A monster. Frisk had heard of the monsters, and their mob, but she had never seen one. More tears fell from her eyes, dropping from her chin to her tattered striped shirt.
"What is it, Papyrus?" The blue pants came closer, and then there was another skeleton. He was shorter, and seemed to have much bigger bones than the first. Under the suit, he looked like he was slightly chubby.
"Sans, it seems we have a witness." The red skeleton, Papyrus, picked Frisk up and turned around. She sobbed and turned, the image of her dead parents still in her brain. The blue skeleton, Sans, looked up at her wtih slight confusion.
"Bring it home, Paps."
Frisk woke up in a little bed, warm under mounds of blankets. She blinked a few times, trying to remember when she had gone with her parents. The bed she was in was a lot like the one at home, and her apartment was always warm. She closed her eyes, trying to remember when she had gone home. But instead of going home, she remembered something different.
Frisk remembered blood, and a knife. She remembered hiding and being really quiet, she remembered her parent's dead bodies. She also remembered skeletons. Skeletons? At the flood of memories, Frisk started crying again. Sobs wracked her little body, and she felt the blankets shaking with her movements.
"Human?" Frisk recognized the voice, but her sobs grew with the realization that she was most definitely not at home. "I'll be right back, okay?" There were footsteps, but Frisk kept sobbing. She sniffed, smelling something sweet and warm coming from below her. A few minutes later, there were the skeleton's footsteps, and the click of heels.
"Oh, my child, it's okay." The woman's voice was soft, and Frisk felt a pair of hands pick her up. The tears had stopped a bit, but the warm arms surrounding her made them end completely. "It's okay." The woman held Frisk against her chest, looking down at her. She was a bit like a goat, but with a softer face and longer ears. She had white fur all over her face and body, and Frisk noticed that it wasn't a hand, but a paw, holding her up. "I am Toriel. Welcome to the Warehouse, my child."
"Mommy?" Frisk asked, looking around the Warehouse. It was modified into more of a house, and there was a large door at one end of the long hallway. On the other end, there were two large sets of stairs, one going up and one going down. "Daddy?" All around her, there were monsters, but her parents weren't there. "Home?"
"Look, kid." It was the deep voice again. Frisk looked down to see a skeleton. He wasn't wearing his hat or suit jacket anymore, but he still looked dangerous.
"Sans, I don't think you should..." the woman holding Frisk was interrupted by the short skeleton.
"Tori, the kid deserves to know. We don't even know her name," Sans said, holding up his bony hands to Frisk. She shied away, cuddling into Toriel.
"Another time, Sans." The skeleton scoffed, and Toriel gave him a stern look.
"Fine." Sans turned on his heel, grabbing his jacket and a fedora from a coat rack by the door. "I'm going to Grillby's." Without another word, the short blue skeleton was gone.
"Don't worry about him, human. He's just..." The tall skeleton, Papyrus, let his sentence trail off into the air.
"Moody," Toriel finished. "Why don't we get some food into you, my child? You're skin and bones."
"Okay," Frisk said quietly, and Toriel carried her to another part of the warehouse. There was a large wooden table and a kitchen surrounding it. Toriel put Frisk into a chair, one which was much too large for her small body. As Frisk watched, Toriel heated some oatmeal with fire magic. Frisk was fascinated.
She spent the day with Toriel, taking care of small things around the warehouse. There were some random scattered toys, which Frisk played with while Toriel typed some papers on a typewriter. A few monsters passed through the warehouse, but no one bothered them or asked about Frisk.
When night fell, Toriel tucked Frisk in. Underneath the smaller mound of blankets, Frisk was warm and comfortable. She smiled up at Toriel, who smiled back. After tucking her in, Toriel smoothed her purple dress and kissed her forehead.
"Goodnight, my child." Toriel's heels clicked out of the room. Frisk lay in the bed, slowly drifting into sleep.
Muffled sounds woke Frisk, but she stayed in her bed and listened. It took some straining, but she could hear what the people were saying. It sounded like Sans and Toriel. Muted light came from the doorway, and Frisk could see the silhouettes of the skeleton and the goat monster.
"Sans, keep it down, for Christ's sake. The child is asleep," Toriel said.
"It's still here?" Sans asked, his words slurred and angry.
"Well, yes. It's cold, and she can't be more than four or five. She needs somewhere to sleep."
"Tori, we run a mob, not a goddamn orphanage!" Sans' words were slurring, and louder. Clearly, alcohol had been involved. "This is no place for a kid. There isn't a single reason why we couldn't drop it on the porch of an orphanage or church. Having a kid will just slow us down, and you know it. If she's not more than five, she won't survive with us."
"She won't survive on the streets, either!" Toriel's voice was beginning to match Sans' anger.
"But is living with a mob made of monsters really better for a human kid?" Toriel didn't respond. "Exactly. Get rid of her."
"Sans..." Toriel sounded like she wanted to fight more, but Sans cut her off with a deep, threatening tone. A blue glow joined with the soft yellow of the lamps, and Frisk set her jaw.
"You may be the boss, but I'm right. This kid will make us have a bad time." Heavy footsteps walked away, and the blue glow left the hallway. Frisk heard Toriel sigh, and the click of heels began to fade. Once it was all gone, there was the loud sound of a switch, and the lights in the hall turned off.
As quietly as possible, Frisk crawled out of the bed and searched her way through the darkness. The warehouse was quiet, and Frisk followed the thin hallway to the door, keeping her footsteps silent. When she reached the door, she pulled it open, hoping it wouldn't creak. Thankfully, it didn't. She slipped out into the night, letting the cold air embrace her.
The door slammed shut behind her, covering the night with a resonating thump. As quickly as her legs would take her, Frisk ran away from the warehouse, into the street ahead of her.
A day on the streets had not been good to Frisk. Nightfall was already here again, and she hadn't found anywhere else to go. Most people hadn't given her a second glance, and she had seen a few monsters out and about, walking around on errands. She had hidden from each one, knowing that she must still be on their turf if they were still around.
As the night changed from orange to dark purple, Frisk searched for an alleyway to sleep in. As she came upon one, she found it was already occupied. There was a man slumped against the wall, smoking a cigarette and looking out into the street. Quickly, Frisk backed away from the alley, but the man cleared his throat and looked pointedly at her.
"Hey, kid, come here." Determined to walk away, Frisk turned, but she heard the man stand up behind her. He was maybe thirty, maybe older. "I said come here." Frisk felt the man's sweaty hand on her shoulder. He turned her around forcefully. "What's your name, kid?"
Frisk didn't answer. The man blew smoke in her face, and Frisk coughed. He pulled her into the alley, a sickly smile on his face. The alleyway smelt like stale cigarette smoke and urine, and the man reeked of body odor. Frisk scrunched up her nose. The man's smile grew bigger, showing off rotten teeth and disgusting breath.
Frisk backed away, but the man walked closer to her. He smelt like sweat and pee, and his eyes had a squirrely quality to them, like a rat's. Frisk didn't trust this man. His skin was jaundiced and yellow, and his hair looked like it was coated in grease. His rancid breath floated to her nose, and Frisk fought off gagging.
"Where are your parents, kid?" the man asked. Frisk kept silent. "No parents? Well then, I guess you're all mine. Come on." The man grabbed Frisk's arm forcefully. Frisk pulled her arm away and tried to run out of the alleyway. The man took two large strides and grabbed her wrist. He twisted, sending shooting pain up her arm. Frisk screamed, but the man slapped a hand against her mouth. "Don't make a sound."
Frisk bit his hand, and he pulled away in pain. When her mouth was free, she sucked in air to scream, but before she could make a sound, his hands were around her throat. The man picked Frisk up by the neck, squeezing tightly. She choked and coughed, but somehow sucked in enough air to scream at the top of her lungs. As soon as the sound left her mouth, the man slapped her across the face, one hand still tightly around her throat.
"Shut up. Look at me." The man gripped her throat tighter, and Frisk could feel the bones in her neck bending under the pressure. Her airway felt locked tightly shut.
"No, you look at me." Frisk recognized the voice immediately. "Get your filthy hands off her, you piece of scum." The man let go of her, and Frisk fell to the ground, looking at Sans. The man cursed under his breath, shaking his head vigorously.
"Sans?" Frisk asked quietly, still unable to breathe. Frisk noticed that one of his eyes was glowing bright blue, while the other had no pupil at all. His face wasn't smiling, but set in a grim expression that looked more serious than he had when she had first met him.
"Get the hell out of here. I don't ever want to see you on my turf ever again, you piece of shit. And trust me, if I do, you won't ever be able to touch anyone again." The man walked towards Sans like he was willing to fight, but Sans stared longer at him, and smiled. With the blue eye, even Frisk was afraid. "That's what I thought. Get out of my sight." The man ran.
As Frisk watched, the blue in Sans' eye faded, and his pupils returned to normal. She was shaking, but couldn't seem to get up and move.
"Get up, kiddo. You're comin' with me." Sans watched as Frisk picked herself up from the ground slowly. Once she was on her feet, he turned to walk her back home. Frisk walked towards Sans, but her stomach heaved when she was about a foot away from him. Her throat was sore, and she could feel tender spots on her neck when she touched them. Bending over, Frisk emptied what little she had in her stomach. Bright yellow bile splashed against the alleyway. "Kid?"
Sans turned around to see Frisk empty the last of her stomach contents. There was clear concern on his face. She wiped her mouth, looking up at him. He smiled kindly, opening his arms.
"It's okay, kiddo. What's your name?"
"Frisk," she said, still shaking a bit.
"Come here, Frisk." She walked towards him, and when she was close enough, Sans scooped her up into his bony arms. "Let's go home." Sans started to walk away from the alley, holding Frisk in his arms. She clung the the big- boned skeleton like he was her lifeline, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She felt his hand rub her back in a calming way. "It's okay, Frisk. It's okay."