Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This Is Your Cousin, Papyrus. Do You Want To Hold Him?”

Sans’s face scrunched up when Uncle Verdana showed him the new baby bones wrapped up in a green blanket. It was tiny and squirmy and bright orange in the face as it cried and cried and cried.

It wasn’t a happy day.

Not when the magic spent on bringing the baby’s SOUL fully to light had sent Auncle Caveat into a spiral of sickness that made them fall down sometime during the night.

Sans still wasn’t sure how he felt about Auncle. They were barely related to him, third cousins once removed or something like that, and when they’d swept into the dusty old apartment that Mom had fallen down in, Sans hadn’t wanted to go with them. 

It didn’t matter that Mom hadn’t really been present for most of his life, too sad and tired to give him any attention. Sans still hadn’t wanted to leave the small home that was all he had known to go with strangers that were expecting a baby, even if they were all Sans had left.

But Auncle and Uncle had promised Sans they would take care of him if he went with them.

What a lie. Now Auncle was dead, just like Mom, and all for some… baby.

Uncle Verdana interrupted Sans’s thoughts and let out a sad, quiet laugh at Sans’s scrunched up face.

“Sit Down. Here, Over Here.”

He directed Sans to the couch, rocking the still crying baby bones in his arms, and reluctantly, Sans followed his directions.

“Okay, Now Hold Out Your Arms.”

Sans wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to be doing, or even if he wanted to hold that bawling little thing, but he did what Uncle told him to. Uncle smiled again, but it was small and watery, and even if Sans didn’t have a bond with him, he could tell he wasn’t doing very good.

“Like This. Here.”

He sat next to Sans and held the baby with one arm, helping Sans rearrange his limbs in a way that would support fragile little bones. And then Uncle plopped the orange-faced, wailing creature into Sans’s arms and Sans froze. He wasn’t sure what to do with something so… little.

But then the silliest thing happened.

The baby stopped crying.

It opened its mismatched sockets that looked exactly like Auncle’s and met Sans’s gaze with its own hazy vision as it drooled gross baby slobber onto Sans’s shirt. It giggled.

“Nyeh!”

The laughter popped up around his head in a crackling, uppercase font that was just as silly as Sans’s. The baby kept laughing as he reached up and flung his little arms around and landed a hand right in Sans’s socket. 

And oh.

At that moment, Sans figured out one thing.

Even if he wasn’t sure how he felt about Papyrus’s parents, he knew deep in his SOUL that this little baby was his family. Auncle had loved him, and so Sans would as well.

Sans carefully pulled Papyrus’s hand out of his socket, and Papyrus adjusted to grab Sans’s phalange in a startlingly strong grip for something so small and uncoordinated. 

“...hey, papyrus. welcome home.”

*Papyrus.

*HP 35/35

*He’s yours to watch over. 

If Auncle wasn’t there to take care of Papyrus, Sans would do it for them.

###

Sans furrowed his brow bones and stared up at the book on a shelf too high for him to reach. Why did adults always have to put things so far up? Sans wasn’t the only small monster! The library was supposed to be a place where anyone could read.

“Do you need any assistance?”

Sans jolted at the unfamiliar font and whirled around, sockets wide.

A tall skeleton monster stood behind him, a stack of books clutched in his hands, and on top of that, even more piles of books and papers were held up by purple hand-shaped bullets. He had ink splattered on his teeth, and a chewed on pen in the pocket of his long black coat. The silver glasses the skeleton wore slipped down his nasal ridge before they glowed blue as he pushed them back up with magic.

Sans realized he was staring and shook his head.

“sorry. didn’t hear what ya said. can ya say it again?”

Something about the font had distracted Sans from the intent behind the language, so he made sure to listen carefully for the next time. But to his surprise, the skeleton let out a sheepish laugh and manifested a couple more hand shaped bullets that scooped the books in his arms out.

The monster made motions and faces, and Sans still didn’t know what he was saying exactly, but he caught more of the intent this time.

[Help needed?]

Sans brightened up and pointed to the colorful book on the highest shelf. “yeah. thanks! it’s that one.”

With his real hands now empty, the tall skeleton pulled the book down. He paused and stared at the cover with a funny expression before he handed it over to Sans. Sans caught his look and shrugged, glancing up at him from the corner of his sockets as he tucked Raising Good Monsters: A Book on Parenting into the crook of his arm.

“i gotta new brother, and i wanna make sure i’m taking care of him the best i can. he’s the coolest. he took his first step the other day!”

The skeleton was awkward as he laughed, but it was a warm sound.

[Learning good/positive.]

Sans frowned as he stared at all the shapes the monster made with his hands, and frustration itched at the back of his mind. He was missing a lot. He could tell the monster was saying more, but all Sans got was an impression of countless books being read along with a flash of approval.

“hey mister, what language are you usin’?”

The skeleton fumbled, like he wasn’t sure what to do or how to act, but after a moment, he looked around and crooked a finger at Sans for him to follow. Shrugging, Sans did so.

He got the feeling the tall monster wasn’t very great with people.

They made their way over to an unused table and the older skeleton unloaded all the books from the clutches of his magic, allowing the bullets to dissipate. Once that was done, he cleared his throat and turned back to Sans, and the next time he spoke up, Sans could understand him and read the font he spoke in. Aster, he thought.

“Ah, that should work. Terribly sorry about that. You wanted to know what language I was using, correct?”

Sans brightened up and nodded. “yeah, but now i’ve got two questions. i can understand you now! why didn’t you use this font from the start?”

The skeleton—part of his name was probably Aster—opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Sans shook his head. When he spoke next, he used his secondary font, and not comic sans.

“Wait! Wait, I think I know.”

Sans furrowed his brow bones as he stared at the books that Aster had placed on the table.

“it takes magic to switch, and i gotta think real hard about it. it’s probably hard to do both at once right? switchin’ fonts and using bullets? is that why you couldn’t use this font while carrying the books?”

When Sans glanced back up, Aster’s awkward, tense posture faded and was replaced with a spark of joy that made the lines around his sockets seem smaller.

“You figured that out quite fast! Tell me, have you used much magic at the same time as your secondary font?”

Sans rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“nah, just figured out i had it not too long ago.”

Not to mention, Sans didn’t use magic casually very often. He had… a lot. He got sick when he used it if he wasn’t careful. He’d be able to use it someday, once he was bigger and his magic settled more, but that wouldn’t be for a long time. 

Aster beamed at him, the ink stain on his teeth more obvious than ever, and Sans bit back a laugh.

“Quite the thing to figure out so young! Yes, the resonance of the magic required to speak in aster is incredibly similar to my magical constructs, and so it’s difficult to do both at once.” Aster shook his head. “Because of that, I use Magi Sign Language, or MSL, when I’m using magic for something else. Even if relatively few people understand the intricacies of the language, at the very least they can pick up on the underlying intent.”

“but why not use your first font?” Sans asked. “shouldn’t people be able to listen to the intent with that, too? why use sign instead?”

Aster’s eyelights gleamed in delight, and Sans noticed the tiny cracks near his sockets. “A great question. Tell me, when I first spoke to you in wingdings, did you understand my intent?”

Something in Sans’s chest brightened at the praise, even as he shook his head.

“no. i dunno why, but i couldn’t pay attention.”

“Exactly!” Aster smacked a fist against his palm, fumbling and getting his hands caught together because of the hole in the center. He took a moment to untangle them, but didn’t stop talking.

“Wingdings is a font, not a language—which means I’m still speaking in Common. Your magic is telling you that you should understand the words, but you can’t, and so your subconscious is too busy trying to decipher what I say to pay attention to my intent.”

Sans pressed his teeth together as he snorted. “that’s a lot of fancy words to say you got a bad roll on the font lotto, mister.”

Aster didn’t get offended, only offering a laugh. “Well, that’s a much simpler way to put it, I suppose. At the very least I was lucky enough to have a secondary font, even if it’s rather taxing to speak in for any length of time. Doable, but somewhat unpleasant. I imagine your own secondary font is much the same… though, perhaps not?”

Aster was talking a lot to some random kid he found in the library, but Sans couldn’t say he minded. There weren’t really a lot of people left to talk with Sans about skeleton magic, and even Uncle stopped after Auncle died. Uncle had gotten more and more like Mom was before she fell down, and so Sans was left on his own to figure stuff out again.

Aster continued.

“Your font… Comic Sans, is it not? It’s not entirely unrelated to your secondary font. I can’t quite place it at the moment, but both are Sans Serif fonts. Perhaps, by belonging to a similar font family, it requires less magic modulation on your part.”

At some point, Aster moved to fiddle with the already destroyed pen in his jacket pocket as he spoke. And then he stilled and zeroed in on Sans again, looking like he wanted to snatch up a notebook from the table.

“Sans, right? You said it takes magic to switch, but does it take active magic to use once you’ve swapped over?”

Sans shook his head.

“kinda? i can’t do it for very long.”

Aster hummed, and even though Sans told him his guess was wrong, he only looked more excited.

“I see! Very similar to myself, then. This is quite exciting to talk about—even before… Well. When there were more of us. Even then, secondary fonts were quite rare. I haven’t had much of a chance to—”

Aster’s pocket rang, the sound cutting through his words, and he frowned as he picked it up.

“Oh… I’m sorry, one moment, please.”

Sans flipped open his book to look through it as Aster spoke briskly with whoever was on the phone. When he hung up, he gave Sans a kicked puppy look—his mouth tilted down and his shoulders slouched just a bit.

“My apologies, I have to be heading out now. But before that—! Here, wait one moment!”

Sans rocked back on his heels as Aster rushed away into a different section of the library. Adults were always kind of funny, but this one was hilarious. He was so odd, and… in many ways, much more relatable than anyone else Sans had ever met.

It was only a minute later that Aster came back, shoved a book into Sans’s hands, and then grabbed his own stack of items from the table. He rushed towards the front door without even stopping to check out at the front desk, calling back over his shoulder towards Sans.

“I really must go now, but I hope you find that enlightening!”

Sans looked at the title.

Magi Sign Language for Beginners, huh?

Seemed kinda fun to learn.

###

Uncle Verdana fell down.

It was bound to happen. Sans had heard all the adults talking.

When Auncle died, they took part of Uncle’s SOUL with them, and Sans knew that Uncle wasn’t doing good. He started to act more like Mom before she fell down. But he still managed to help take care of Papyrus sometimes, even if Sans was the one bathing Papyrus and feeding him and rocking him to sleep most nights.

Sans had thought that maybe for Papyrus, Uncle would…

But no.

He lied. He fell down.

And then the adults came.

They brought Sans and Papyrus to what they called a “Children's Home,” and then they took Papyrus away from Sans.

They put Papyrus with the other toddlers, and they put Sans with the other 9 year olds and they only let him see his baby sometimes. Sans had to sneak into the nursery at night just to hold Papyrus, and those stupid adults didn’t realize that Papyrus was crying all the time because he missed Sans.

They didn’t even know to clean around the joints in Papyrus’s vertebrae extra careful, or to rattle and hum to him. They never learned how to hold him just tight enough, but not too tight, or even what texture food he could eat without getting extra fussy.

Some caretakers they were. Sans had to do all the important stuff around here.

It was on one of those nights that Sans snuck into the nursery to calm a fussy Papyrus that he overheard snippets of a conversation from the next room over.

“San!”

“shhhh, you gotta be quiet. okay, pap? shhhh, quiet.”

Sans pushed love and comfort and quiet please, through their bond as he rocked Papyrus carefully. The growing toddler was getting harder for Sans to carry now that he was a little over 15 months when Sans hadn’t gotten much bigger himself.

Thankfully, Papyrus quieted down and gnawed lightly on his phalanges as Sans pressed his skull to the wall and listened.

“—almost the last skeletons.”

“They aren’t really related. Cousins, at best. Distant ones at that. They’re bonded, but separating them would let it fade naturally. They’re both too young for it to be set.”

Sans was pretty sure it was his own caretaker who sighed—an avian monster in charge of the preteens. He sounded reluctant when he spoke up.

“We can’t find a home for both. At least not together.”

Sans stilled, and a numb, tingling feeling shot through his body. Papyrus made a small sound and pushed a clumsy attempt at love you/worried through their bond. 

Sans just rocked him again, and put his skull back to continue listening.

“It would be ideal if we could put them with another skeleton, but there aren’t any others left. And there aren’t any households that are looking for two kids right now—probably not for a long time, if ever. HOPE’s at an all time low and families just don’t have the time, money, or space.”

“But what about—?”

There was a pause before one of the other caretakers responded.

“Okay. There’s one other skeleton. But he doesn’t have time for children. We can’t bother him—if he wanted a child, let alone two, he would have had them by now. He’s as old as the king and absorbed in his work.”

Sans swallowed thickly, and petted Papyrus’s skull in an attempt to soothe the increasingly fussy toddler. His own upset was making his brother’s worse. Because no matter what those dumb adults said, Papyrus was his family. His baby and his brother and his.

He was all Papyrus had left. And Papyrus was all Sans had left.

“...Tomorrow, then. We’ll separate them sooner to ease things. There’s that one younger couple that can foster Sans…”

Sans didn’t bother to listen to the rest.

He sat back and petted Papyrus’s head as he rocked back and forth, shoving down the mounting panic in his SOUL. 

“don’t worry, papyrus. i’ll… i’ll talk to them tomorrow. i won’t leave you, i promise. they’ll listen. they have to listen.”

Chapter Text

They didn’t listen. 

All Sans got was “I know, Sans. I’m sorry. But it’s for the best. You’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” And then they brought the couple in that was supposed to foster Sans.

Sans shifted in his seat and glared at the caretakers that stood beside his new “foster parents”—a Knight Knight and Madjick that seemed nice enough, but still wanted to separate him and Papyrus.

“i’m not going.”

Knight Knight just gave him a soft look.

“We’ll take care of you. ...Would you give us a chance?”

Sans shook his head and lightened his expression as he directed a grin at her. He had to be soft and charming and sweet and maybe she would give him what he wanted. Words were always the best way to fight after all, especially considering how small he was.

“sure, lady. but i need to bring my brother, too. he’s real little and he needs me. his parents are both gone and now i’m all he has left. i’ll take care of him! you don’t have do a thing.”

Knight Knight shared a glance with the Madjick beside her and the brows on her torso face furrowed. After a long moment, she met Sans’s gaze again, her expression sympathetic but unyielding.

“...I’m sorry. We don’t have space for two. We’ve been informed of your situation, though. We’ll take care of you, and maybe if we get the space for two, you can be reunited.”

Her eyes darted off to the side, and Sans could see from the hunch in her shoulders and the twist to her beak that she didn’t think that would ever happen. 

“i can stay here, then. we won’t be a bother—i’m real good at taking care of papyrus. that will make it so that there’s more time for the other kids and–”

Sans’s caretaker interrupted him. “Sans, we don’t have space. I understand your reluctance, but doing this sooner rather than later will make it hurt less. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“it won’t ever make sense.” Sans snapped, before he gentled his tone and tried to use logic. “we’re bonded. if you separate us, we’re gonna get soul sick. i raised papyrus, and i’m all he’s got left. i could fall down. papyrus could fall down! you can’t risk it—”

No one listened.

“I understand you’re scared, Sans, and I’m so sorry you’ve lost so many people that way, but it won’t happen to you or Papyrus. Your bond is young and flexible, and you’ll both be okay after a bit. In a year you won’t even remember it. Perhaps then you can be allowed to visit again.”

…And no one was ever going to listen, were they? They didn’t care about logic or family or any of it. They were adults and they were so caught up in how big and mature they were that they didn’t even consider that Sans could be right.

Sans was little. He was a child, and they didn’t listen to a single word he said because of that.

Sans wanted to be bigger. If he was an adult, then they would listen and Sans could tell them that he was taking Papyrus home with him.

His caretaker was still talking.

“—I really am sorry that this is causing you so much distress. But it will all work out, you’ll see. It’s time to go now, but—”

“no!”

Sans’s chair clattered to the ground as his patience snapped. He’d been reasonable longer than anyone should be. He’d tried to convince them for months to let him take care of Papyrus and it never worked.

Sans didn’t have a plan, but now they were going to take Papyrus, and Sans would be so far away he couldn’t even sneak in to visit.

Sans used his small form to his advantage and darted past the caretaker’s legs, around the desk with the wanna be kidnappers, and through the door. He ignored their shouts once they realized what he had done and continued down the hall.

Papyrus. Sans had to get to Papyrus and—

Sans burst into the playroom. All around, toddlers were playing with blocks and puzzles under the careful watch of a Whimsalot, and in one corner, Papyrus sat bawling his sockets out, probably because of the distress coming from Sans.

Papyrus perked up and clutched at Sans's shirt when Sans barreled in and picked him up. Papyrus's wiggling attempts at cooperating just sent them both to the floor, though.

The door slammed open again and the monsters Sans was running from filed in. Sans whipped around as he looked for an escape, but he was trapped—the only exits were windows too high to reach and the crowded door.

Sans clutched Papyrus to his chest, and Papyrus clung just as tightly back, bones rattling as he wailed louder than the day he’d been born. Fear, cloying and thick and shaky, wound together and Sans wasn’t sure where his ended and Papyrus’s began.

Sans bared his teeth at the adults in the room, the grin that was always stuck on his face widening with the gesture.

“Leave us alone!”

“Sans, you need to let Papyrus go. You’re upsetting him—”

“i’m not the reason he’s upset! you—you assholes! he’s scared of you!”

Sans’s caretaker took a step closer, and Sans skittered back, his phalanges digging into Papyrus’s shirt. Papyrus buried his face in Sans’s shoulder and cowered away from the adults.

“Sans, be reasonable! You’re a smart young monster, you know this won’t end well.”

“no! stay away!”

Papyrus screamed and hung onto Sans as he cried, and he must have figured out what was going on.

“Don go, San! Don go!”

“i won’t—i won’t—leave us alone!”

The bird-like caretaker that Sans hated put a hand on Sans’s shoulder and tried to pry Papyrus away. Sans clung tighter to Papyrus, but green magic clamped on his SOUL and suddenly he couldn’t move even if he wanted to and—

Sans bit down hard and got a mouthful of feathers and dust.

There was a muffled curse and suddenly there were more hands and more magic, and Sans screamed. 

He continued to bite the monsters that dragged him away, but it was no use as they tore Papyrus out of his grip. Papyrus wailed, not understanding what was going on as he squirmed and tried to run to Sans, but he had even less luck fighting back than Sans. Until, finally, a tired Whimsalot carted Papyrus out of the room.

“papyrus!”

Only the increasing distress from their bond told Sans that Papyrus was still somewhere nearby.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right and Sans knew it! They were all being dumb and taking his family away, and every part of Sans was coming apart at the seams.

But then—

Patience, little Judge.

Papyrus got too far away for Sans to feel and Sans collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut into the grip of green magic that was still on his SOUL.

Patience. All will be well in time.

Something deep and old in Sans reached out and wrapped around his limbs. It was the same magic that made him sick sometimes because there was just so much.

Sans sniffled, but didn’t try to fight again. Instead he forced his gaze up to meet his old caretaker’s, the monster nursing his hand with missing feathers and docked HP. 

Sans’s face was tear-stained and his sockets were empty, and his next words left him in a hoarse rush.

“you have to remember to be extra gentle around his vertebrae when you clean him. and the orange soap makes him sneeze and he doesn’t like it. his food can’t be too crunchy. he won’t sleep unless you hold him just tight enough but not too tight and you have to hum the star song, too. he doesn’t like the ambient magic in the playroom, and—“

The caretaker interrupted him, and the twitch in his eye and tense posture told Sans that he’d lost his patience a long time ago.

“We’ll take good care of him, Sans. We’ve been doing it for a couple months now, okay? Try not to worry. Just… leave. Now, please.”

They hadn’t been taking care of him! Papyrus spat up and refused all the gross food they offered and wouldn’t eat until Sans snuck in at night. He always had bad dreams and never fell asleep unless Sans held him because the caretakers were too busy, and they didn’t know how to get him all clean even between his joints and—

“It’s time to go. You’ll both be okay.”

Sans went limp, but his new kidnappers just carried him out the front door, heedless of his silent protest. All Sans could do was stare at his old caretaker, his SOUL thrumming so fast he couldn’t feel anything else.

Liar.

###

Sans tossed and turned in his bed, his bones aching as sickness pushed behind his teeth and he shivered from a cold that skeletons shouldn’t feel.

It hurt.

Sans had been patient. He’d waited two whole months and the entire time he’d tried to convince his new caretakers to let him see Papyrus, even if it was only for a minute. But being torn away from Papyrus had messed with his magic balance and he’d gotten sick again. 

He’d lost HP. He was falling down, but still no one listened, because they thought it was the same kinda sick Sans always got.

Was Papyrus SOUL sick too? Papyrus was always a healthy baby, but maybe this was too much. Sans had warned them all. And even if Papyrus wasn’t sick, was he eating enough, or sleeping? 

Sans coughed and his bones rattled as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Papyrus was probably crying.

Papyrus always had bad dreams, and couldn’t fall asleep unless someone held him. And Sans knew that if he was still at the children's home, no one had enough time to take care of him like he needed. Sans just wanted to be with Papyrus.

Shivers wracked Sans as tears beaded at his sockets and his SOUL twisted. Something was wrong.

Papyrus was too far away for Sans to feel his emotions, but despite that, Sans knew Papyrus wasn’t okay. He knew it with the swirl of emotion behind his ribs and the way magic buzzed just underneath his bones.

Shoving the sweat and magic soaked blankets off of him, Sans sat up and staggered out of bed.

Papyrus needed him! The windows were locked after Sans had slipped out of them too many times, and Knight Knight was awake in the living room, so he was stuck. But Sans knew his baby was crying for him, and he needed to—

There.

Sans blinked at the small tug of golden magic that guided his attention to a black spot in his vision.

Little Judge, think not of where you are, but where you should be.

Sans thought about the old closet in the children’s home and he saw something—a dark space that felt familiar, and an in between that connected the two points and if Sans bent his magic just right…

He blinked. And then he was there.

But the nausea that had been swirling behind Sans’s ribs didn’t appreciate the way that the trip through… something agitated his magic, and he bent over and got sick into the closest cleaning bucket. He heaved as tears stung his sockets and he shuddered and tried to be quiet. Thankfully, Sans was good at being quiet.

“…rus?”

Despite his illness, maybe Sans actually had some luck, because someone said Papyrus’s name as a couple of adults passed by the closet he was hiding in.

“Have you found him yet?”

“…No luck.”

“He couldn’t have gotten far! He’s not even two years old, for Star’s sake! How does someone lose a two year old?”

Sans staggered back against the wall, and it took everything in him to stay quiet and not sob, hysterical laughter bubbling behind his teeth.

“I don’t know, but this isn’t good. It’s been two days. You don’t think…”

A pause, and then a shaky voice.

“He’s fine. He has to be fine. Let’s… let’s check around the old playground again.”

Sans gripped his sleeve in his hand and clenched his teeth as tears dripped down his skull.

He knew something was wrong.

###

Sans could find Papyrus.

It wouldn’t be easy, but he had something all the scrambling caretakers didn’t have—a bond. And none of them had thought to ask Sans for help. They would have rather risked Papyrus toddling off and getting hurt or even dying, and something in Sans’s chest burned at the thought.

Sans shoved down the useless resentment and ignored the shaking in his hands as he sent out pulses of intent and listened. If Sans called where Papyrus could feel, he would get a response. Papyrus wouldn’t hide from him.

Had Papyrus eaten anything? Was he injured or scared?

Had he been looking for Sans? Was that why he left?

Sans darted through the dark city, shoving where/love you/miss you through their bond, praying to the stars and anything that would listen that Papyrus would respond.

The night cycle fueled by the CORE was in full swing as Sans ducked between gray buildings with green and golden plants draped down walls and tucked into alleys. The foliage provided plenty of cover for a little monster to hide and not be found by any normal means. Balls of magic hung in the air and wound through the streets, lighting it up just enough for Sans to see, and he hoped wherever Papyrus was, he was okay—that he had light and shelter, too.

New Home was normally safe, but there were so many ways a toddler could get hurt, even without intent. And not every monster was kind.

Scared.

Sans skidded to a halt as a small flare of emotion filtered through his bond with Papyrus. Fear that wasn’t entirely his own wrapped around his bones like ice and made him shake, only building on the fevered magic that rushed through his SOUL.

Sans focused on where the feeling came from, turning around and narrowing down on it. He sprinted in the direction where it grew stronger.

It wasn’t long at all before he approached one of the plant filled alleys in the Capital. Golden trees and orange bushes jammed the space and made it too small for most adult monsters to climb through. 

Thankfully, Sans wasn’t very big.

“papyrus?”

Fear. Concern. Miss you, miss you, miss you!

Sans’s bones rattled and he staggered through the thick foliage. A bush next to him shook, and a small, tear-stained and dirty skull peered up at him.

Sans collapsed to his knees to yank Papyrus out, even as Papyrus shoved the branches away and flung himself at Sans.

“San! Miss San! San! San! Find San!”

Shudders wracked Sans’s body and he couldn’t see through the tears that filled his sockets as he laughed and caught Papyrus, both of them falling back into the emerald grass that carpeted the ground of the alley.

Sans couldn’t breathe right, and neither could Papyrus. They were sobbing messes as they clutched onto each other with grips so tight their joints creaked.

“pap, you’re okay. you’re okay, it’s okay—“

Sans hiccuped and cradled Papyrus closer, petting his skull.

“i’m here now. i won’t let them take you again.”

###

Sans rocked back on his heels as he tugged the blankets from his childhood home tighter around Papyrus and smoothed his hand over his little brother’s sleeping skull. Sans’s SOUL twisted, his abdominal cavity aching with hunger, but he could deal with that. What was more important was Papyrus. Sans needed to figure out how to get Papyrus food.

Pick-pocketing only went so far—what Sans needed was a job. Nobody was going to hire a runaway ten-year-old, though, and it didn’t help that everyone was on high alert looking for him and Papyrus.

Sans stood up and walked over to the dusty mirror in crowded storage unit filled with Mom’s stuff. He eyed the blue and orange stripes wrapped around his shirt as he plucked at the fabric.

After a long moment, he pulled it over his head and dropped it on the ground in a crumpled pile. Mom’s old shirt, thick with the scent of mothballs, replaced it, and Sans belted the fabric around his waist so it wasn’t quite so poorly fitted and looked like a dress. There wasn’t a single stripe visible.

“heh. now that could work…”

After all, if adults lied, why couldn’t Sans?

Chapter Text

“Dr. Gaster? You have a visitor.”

Gaster lifted his skull to stare blearily at the entrance to his office, Scratch standing in the doorway with a sheepish look on her feline face. She was a good assistant, that monster—a bit odd, but organized and very thoughtful. She also never joined her coworkers on their crusades to make Gaster “get a life” or “sleep in his own home for once,” and that was a quality Gaster could appreciate.

Scratch cleared her throat pointedly.

A paper that had been stuck to Gaster’s face fluttered down to the floor, and it took at few seconds of watching its slow descent before he fully woke up. And then, all at once, Gaster jumped and shoved his notes into a pile as he swiped his pens to the side and straightened his lab coat so it looked less like he’d been sleeping in the middle of the day.

“Ah! Yes, one moment. You can send them in—” He signed.

Gaster lifted a hand to his mouth and winced when he tasted the ink smeared across his teeth, the remains of the pens he’d chewed through in his research spiral the previous night scattered across his desk. It had, perhaps, been a few days since he’d gone home, and maybe Gaster didn’t know when he’d last slept for more than an hour, but! There was no need to make a poor impression.

Scratch gave Gaster a guilty grin as she shrugged. “Uh, sorry sir. He’s already here.”

She stepped to the side, and Gaster came face to face with an exhausted avian monster that he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d missed. The new monster gave Gaster a long look, and Gaster couldn’t quite place his expression, but he didn’t seem pleased at the very least.

Gaster stood to his full height and waved his guest in as he used a few hand shaped bullets to hastily clear the chair he had for guests free of papers. When that was done, he cleared his throat and switched to using aster to speak—an unpleasant necessity, but useful for in depth conversations.

“I’m terribly sorry about the reception. Please, please, come in. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Water or—”

Gaster looked over at the cracked coffee pot in his office that he’d knocked over sometime last night and hadn’t found the time to clean up since. He winced.

“…Water? Yes, sorry, just water.”

The avian monster blinked slowly at him before he shook his head and sat down on the side of the chair, the backing in the way of his wings.

“No, thanks.” He gave Gaster another indecipherable look. “…Something tells me this won’t be a very long conversation.”

“I really need to get more accessible chairs—” Gaster muttered to himself before he remembered that another monster was actually there and talking to him.

“Ah! Of course. And how may I help you today Mister…?”

“Tired.”

Gaster let out half a chuckle as he tried to figure out if that was a joke or the monster’s actual name. Tired shrugged, the corners of his eyes scrunching up into something less stern as he ran a hand through the feathers on the top of his head. The motion drew Gaster’s attention to the limb—for whatever reason, Tired had a bald patch and the faintest scar that almost appeared like… teeth?

Well. Far be it for Gaster to question someone’s scars.

“Yes, that’s my real name. Accurate, isn’t it? Tired Byrd, at your service. I work over at New Home’s Children’s Home. I’m here to talk to you about two of our kids.”

Gaster blinked. “Er. What?”

Tired let out an exhausted laugh. “Dr. Gaster. I’ll be blunt with you, since I’ve heard you appreciate that. We recently got two new residents—skeletons. One of them had already been placed with a family that we’d intended on being permanent.”

Tired’s mouth flattened as he shook his head. “The parents fell down. Now the first child and the family’s own child are left without a home.”

Gaster fidgeted with his pen as he stopped himself just in time to prevent biting down on the end. “I’m so terribly sorry to hear that. But what does that have to do with me?”

Every single monster that fell was a personal failure on Gaster’s part. He hadn’t worked quickly enough—hadn’t broken the barrier yet—if only he could be better—

But still. Gaster didn’t understand why he was being informed of this.

Tired shook his head. “Dr. Gaster, when we can, we place subspecies of monsters together with families that know how to support them. I’m here to ask if you would consider taking in the boys.”

“WHAT?!”

Gaster looked wildly around his office that he hadn’t left in days, papers scattered and the spilled coffee still splattered on the floor. The bitter taste of the ink that was smeared across Gaster’s teeth stuck to the inside of his mouth when he swallowed. His magic growled as if to remind him that he hadn’t eaten in quite some time.

“Why on earth do you think I am the best fit for that? I am the last possible person one should trust with children! Never mind the fact that I am at work nearly every hour, I don’t even know what you do with them. Feed them? Do you water them? Surely some other skeleton—any other—would be a better fit.”

Tired stared at Gaster with a gaze that cut him to the core. Gaster still couldn’t fully place the emotions, but he seemed… exhausted. And maybe something else. Pity, perhaps?

…Why pity?

“I agree. I said as much. But Dr. Gaster, I’m sorry to say you are the only one left.”

The room spun. Perhaps Gaster’s lack of sleep was catching up to him?

“What?” He rasped. And then he cleared his throat and tried again, his hands digging into his dress pants. “…What? You can’t mean…”

Tired closed his eyes, unable to look Gaster in the face. As if Gaster didn’t wish he could just close his sockets, bash his skull against the desk, and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“I do. I’m so sorry, Dr. Gaster. But we scoured the entire underground. There are no skeletons left other than you and the boys. We’re trying not to advertise this fact—it would surely bring HOPE to an even further low—but… It’s true. If there were any others I wouldn’t be asking this of you.”

Tired’s mouth flattened as he looked around the mess of an office. “To be entirely honest, I’m still not sure if I should be asking you this.”

“But there was a boy I met—Surely his parents—”

“Comic Sans Serif. Or perhaps you mean Papyrus? Those are the children I’m asking you to take in. Both of their parents have fallen.”

Gaster’s breath caught, but Tired continued to speak.

“I’m trying to find a home that can take in both of the boys. Sans’s current situation isn’t ideal, and he’s gotten more ill than we thought, and while his foster parents are wonderful people they just can’t support—”

“No.” Gaster rasped out as he gripped his desk. His vision swam and everything the stranger said sounded like it came through a tunnel. “No. I’m—I’m sorry. Even with the circumstances, any other place would be better equipped. I understand why you’re asking, but I am not suited to care for children.”

Sans was a bright boy. Gaster had enjoyed talking about fonts with him. He and the other boy—Papyrus—would find a good home to take care of them.

(There would never again be any skeletons to talk to about fonts and history other than those two boys. About culture and magic and the unique ways skeletons experienced bonds—No one else to ever understand, because how could they—?)

Gaster’s eyelights flickered like he was less than a century again, not in control of his emotions. Odd.

"If there’s no one else, I’ll help guide the boys through skeleton—” Gaster choked. “Skeleton culture and care later. As a mentor. They can come to my lab. But I’m not equipped to be a parent.”

“But—”

“Leave. Please. Now.”

Some part of Gaster registered the defeated look on the monster’s face as Scratch came in and escorted him out. Mostly, all he could hear was the ringing in his skull as he slid to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest, staring blankly at the unmopped tile as he counted his breaths.

Gaster’s people were finally gone. With all his knowledge, all of his pattern recognition skills, he should have seen this coming.

Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to.

###

Gaster’s phone rang on the other side of the lab, and he jumped as he smacked his head against the extractor prototype above him. The wrench he had been holding fell into his socket, and he yelped as he wheeled his way out from under the machine and desperately clawed at his skull to get the tool out.

“Curses! Gah, I supposed this is why safety goggles are so important…”

Gaster grappled his way over to his phone, clutching for it blindly as he picked it up just in time to prevent it from going to voicemail. He let the bullets holding up the equipment around him fade as he placed everything on the floor and cleared his throat. He blinked rapidly as the wrench fell out of his skull, and it took him a beat longer than usual to reach for his secondary font.

He answered, “Dr. Gaster speaking. How may I help you?”

A man’s voice came through the line, exhaustion dripping from his words. “Dr. Gaster. Do you have a moment?”

Gaster blinked, and he tried to ignore the twisting in his chest at hearing that voice. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forget it—not with the news it had delivered.

“Ah. Mr. Byrd. Yes, I have a moment.”

“Call me Tired, please. It’s way more accurate, regardless. I’m sorry to contact you after less than two months, but we’ve run into an issue and—well. We need your expertise. Papyrus is only 18 months old, but… He’s disappeared. We put out alerts! Posters! We’re trying to track him—we’ve called in the guard! Even the canine unit came up from Snowdin! But his scent ends at a solid wall?! And then when we find it again it takes off! As if he’s flying! I don’t—”

The monster’s voice caught, and it sounded like he was about to cry.

“…I apologize. That was out of hand. I just… I wanted to call and ask if you knew how on earth a toddler just… disappeared. Is there any skeleton magic that would do this?”

Gaster’s SOUL dropped.

One of the last three skeletons, and Papyrus was gone—?!

He swallowed thickly as he stood up to pull on his coat, ignoring the rest of his team milling about the room. “Skeletons have always had an odd relationship with physics. There’s a chance Papyrus decided not to obey them.”

“What.”

“Papyrus probably didn’t want to obey physics.” Gaster repeated himself at the question. “Skeleton children can be finicky to keep track of, if I recall correctly. I’ll assist in looking, however I’m unsure I’ll be able to find him unless he wants to be found. Hopefully he’ll show up when he gets hungry.”

Tired was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “…Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate any additional hands we can get on the matter.”

“Thank me if I can actually help. Have a good day, Mr. Tired. I will contact you if I find anything.”

“You too. I’ll let you know if we find Papyrus first.”

###

Gaster’s phone rang nearly two days later—the longest he’d gone outside of his lab in decades. He scrambled for the device, nearly dropping it in the process. When the familiar number flashed across the screen, he swiped it open with a desperation he hadn’t expected, politeness be damned as he cut straight to the chase.

“Yes? Did you find him—?”

“Sans is gone now, too.”

Gaster froze, the image of the small skeleton so very proud of his new little brother as he clutched a parenting book to his chest flashing behind his sockets. In hindsight, that little brother must have been Papyrus.

“Surely he’s just…” Gaster couldn’t finish his sentence, unsure of what he’d even wanted to say. Hiding? Magically invisible? Anything but the other remaining skeleton going missing as well.

Tired sighed, and Gaster felt for the boy—because that’s what he was, truly. A young monster looking after even younger monsters. Though, nearly everyone was a child to Gaster nowadays.

“Sans is gone.” Tired snapped. “And he’s just as impossible to track as Papyrus.”

Gaster closed his sockets and ignored the uncomfortable churning in his chest. “…I’ll continue to keep a lookout for the both of them—”

…Hmm. Odd timing, wasn’t it? Perhaps…

Well. Gaster kept his suspicions to himself for the time being. It wouldn’t do to accuse a child of kidnapping and make the entire situation worse, especially if Gaster turned out to be wrong. And really, Sans disappeared after Papyrus. But still…

Gaster sighed. “If I find either, I will do my very best to bring them back to your care. Thank you for keeping me informed.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Thank me when they’re safe.”

Chapter Text

“okay, pap. you know what to do, right?”

The toddler nodded, mimicking Sans’s serious expression. “Stay ky-it!”

Sans patted Papyrus’s skull and made sure he had his blankets firmly wrapped around him and his ratty stuffed bunny in his lap.

“yeah, papyrus. quiet. just stay here for a couple minutes and then we can go back home.”

Home being Mom’s storage unit, filled with the dusty stuff Sans wasn’t supposed to get until he was an adult. It didn’t have water or power, and sometimes monsters came and poked around looking for Sans, but it was the best Sans had. He wanted to get someplace more permanent, but he hadn’t figured out how to get the paperwork needed to get anything other than odd jobs, so he didn’t have the money. Not to mention, Sans had the feeling that he'd need just as much documentation to get an actual apartment.

It was fine. He would figure it out eventually, but until then Papyrus had blankets, a couple toys, a roof, and food, because Sans always fed his little brother first.

Sans gave one last look at Papyrus, hidden in an alley and clutching his toy, and his SOUL clenched.

…Sans refused to question if he’d made a mistake. The adults took Papyrus away from him, and Sans had been falling down because of it. Sans had promised Papyrus he would be there for him, and he wasn’t going to lie like everyone else had.

“San fass?”

Sans shook his thoughts away as he smiled down at Papyrus. “you betcha. i’ll be the fastest monster alive. back before ya know it, yeah? will you play with fluffy bunny while you wait?”

“Kay!”

Sans didn’t let himself linger for any longer as he ducked away and towards a street that was busy, but not too busy.

Thankfully, Sans didn’t have to wait long before the perfect mark came waltzing right down the road. The monster wasn't paying attention to anything, and Sans couldn’t even see their face since it was buried in a book. Hand shaped bullets held up grocery bags filled with snack foods and instant meals, and the monster was wearing a real nice coat with their shoes polished to a shine.

That was the kind of monster that had more gold than they needed. They could buy new groceries. 

…There was something familiar about those hands.

Sans shook away the thought. He had more important things to worry about—Papyrus was hungry. (Sans ignored the gnawing ache of his own magic, stretched thin from lack of food.)

Sans pulled the hood of the ratty old orange jacket he’d gotten from the dump up and loosened his shoulders into something less tense. He had to stay light enough on his feet to dodge if the monster swung at him, but this wasn’t Sans’s first go ‘round.

The monster approached a corner, and Sans took his position, walking at a brisk pace before he stumbled and bumped into the monster’s side, swiping out a leg to trip the other man in a gesture that looked accidental.

His mark let out a startled yelp as groceries and books fell to the dusty ground. Immediately, Sans bent down and kept half a socket on the monster as he began picking up groceries, putting most of them back in the bags, but sliding the occasional item into his inventory.

“i’m so sorry! here, let me help ya pick these up. heh, i can be pretty clumsy—”

When Sans spoke, the monster stilled, and Sans shifted back on his heels, ready to bolt if this was the kind of guy that would take a swing over an “accident.”

The monster looked up from where he’d fallen to the ground, and a familiar skull greeted Sans.

…Oh shit.

“...Sans?”

It was more than a year ago since Sans had heard that weird font, but the monster had made an impression on Sans. It was only later that Sans realized he’d met the royal scientist, Doctor W. D. Gaster.

A skeleton.

And one of the very few people who would know on sight that Sans was a kid. 

Sans dropped the groceries and bolted. Stupid, he screamed in his head. He might not have known something was wrong, but now it's obvious—

Heavier footsteps echoed Sans’s own, Dr. Gaster having abandoned his groceries as he sprinted to catch up.

“Sans, wait—! Please, let’s just talk for a moment—!”

Sans was losing his lead, so he grabbed the next lamppost he saw and used the momentum to do an abrupt 180 turn, barreling between Dr. Gaster’s legs and tripping him again.

“no way, you creep! leave me alone!”

“Excuse me? I’m not a creep! I just wish to talk! You have many people very worried about you—”

“nah, you’re not excused. gimme 500 g and then i’ll consider it.”

Sans didn’t stick around to see his reaction, darting through an alley and into a shortcut that led to Papyrus, the inevitable sickness from using the magic be damned.

###

Papyrus’s back pressed against Sans’s legs as he napped just out of sight under the makeshift stand Sans had set up. He squirmed when Sans’s mark slammed their tail on the box, but thankfully didn’t make any noise.

Who’da thunk that having a toddler with you when you ran sketchy side businesses would get the guard called on you? Sans had found out the hard way that it was better to keep Papyrus hidden when Sans had to bring him.

“One more time! I’ll get it this round.” Sans’s mark wasn’t irate, but enthusiastic, and Sans would rather keep it that way.

“i mean, at this point you’ve got to, right? statistically.”

“Exactly! Deal me in, or, you know, whatever it is you’re supposed to say in these situations.”

The Pyrope bared their teeth in a friendly grin, and Sans almost felt bad about having scammed them out of enough gold for two weeks worth of groceries. When they counted out their money and passed Sans enough to play another round, Sans slipped a ball under one of the three shells and made a show of shuffling them around.

“That one!”

The Pyrope nodded to the one on the left, and Sans let the monster actually win this round. The excitement on their face was worth it as Sans gave a careless shrug.

“knew you’d get it eventually, buddy. welp, here ya go. wanna play another round?”

Sans slid them their winnings, his phalanges twitching at the loss, but he was used to it. He still came out ahead, and letting his marks win every so often was what allowed him to keep some good will, a halfway decent reputation, and the ability to pretend like the rest of it wasn’t rigged.

Pyrope shook their head, and their excitement had heated up the air around the alley stand to a degree that would be a uncomfortable for most monsters. Sans might have to move for a bit to let it cool down.

“Nah, I better cut my losses now. I’ve only won twice,” they said.

Sans offered them a grin. “howzabout ya come and find me if you ever wanna play again?”

They laughed, one of the best sports about being robbed blind Sans had ever met. “I’d rather not break the bank, yeah? You have a good day now.”

“same to you, pal. pleasure playing with you.”

After Sans waved the monster away, he ducked under his stand to check on Papyrus. The toddler had woken up at some point, and stared at Sans with a petulant expression that was the precursor to a tantrum at least half the time.

“Hungry, San!”

Sans winced and pulled a packet of applesauce out of his inventory, sliding it to Papyrus.

“sorry, pap. thanks for staying quiet, yeah? you’re the coolest. we’ll pick up some more food on the way home.”

Something thumped onto the box above their heads, and Sans jolted. When he popped back up and did his best to pretend like there wasn’t a toddler under the stand, he came face to face with a pile of gold in front of a long black coat.

Sans’s SOUL stuttered.

“So your disappearances were related.” Dr. Gaster’s signs were idle, as if he was speaking more to himself than Sans. “I’d wondered…”

No. No no no no no, this couldn’t get any worse.

Sans took half a step back before he stopped, because if he did, then Papyrus would be visible. Even if the doctor knew he was there, Sans wouldn’t give him real confirmation. Instead, Sans squared his shoulders and signed back.

“i dunno what you’re talking about, old man. who’s disappearances?”

At that, the tall, gawky skeleton brightened, his face glowing and the ink stains on his teeth clearly visible. The chewed pen in his front pocket thumped next to the pile of gold he’d dropped when he leaned forward, ignoring Sans’s question entirely.

“You learned Sign! And you appear somewhat fluent, as well! That’s incredible. It’s been little more than a year since you learned of it, has it not?”

“what, like it’s hard?” Sans spoke aloud, because even if he understood MSL well enough, he wasn’t as skilled at signing.

Dr. Gaster’s teeth quirked up into an amused grin as he raised a brow bone. “Yes, in fact. Many monsters do find it difficult. It took me several years to get to any level of proficiency.”

Sans shifted back on his heels as he held a hand out for Papyrus to grab, and got ready to drag them through a shortcut as soon as he got the information he needed.

“as interestin’ as this is, mister,” Sans drawled, “you’re blocking up business. why are you here?”

Dr. Gaster cocked his head to the side. “I believe I owed you 500 G. You said you would excuse me in that case, correct?”

Sans’s sockets widened, and his eyelights flicked down to the gold for half a second before he pulled them back up to the threat. Still, he immediately swiped the money into his inventory, not giving Dr. Gaster a moment to second guess it.

“that’s nice of you and all, but why are you really here?”

Dr. Gaster’s expression dropped into something serious, and it was entirely out of place on the goofy man.

“A fair question that deserves an honest answer. …There aren’t that many skeletons left. We’re—”

He stumbled over his signs, and he paused to adjust his glasses, grief lurking in his sockets. He flicked his eyelights down to the stand that Papyrus was hidden behind, and Sans tightened his grip on his brother’s hand.

“…We’re the last. The home contacted me to tell me you’d both gone missing, and to request my “expertise”—or a given value of that, all things considered—to help find you.” He shook his head. “I just wish to help. You’re a bright young man, Sans, but living like this isn’t doing you or Papyrus any favors. Everyone is very worried. If you go back, they’ll make sure you’re taken care of—”

Sans barked out a laugh. “yeah right. why don’tcha try again for a more believable lie? their 'care' almost killed me, and papyrus woulda been all alone. thanks but no thanks, doc.”

Dr. Gaster jolted, as if he was surprised Sans saw through his lie. “What do you mean by—”

Sans didn’t wait for him to finish as he tugged Papyrus through a shortcut.

###

Sans pressed his teeth together as he stared at the corner store and mentally tallied his gold. He had enough for Papyrus to eat, but for Sans…? No. What little money he had left needed to go towards clothes for Papyrus. If Sans found some at the dump they’d be cheap, but he still needed enough money to get thread, fabric to patch any holes, and to take them to the laundromat.

Sans’s planning screeched to a halt as a familiar black coat swished around gangly legs in the corner of Sans’s sockets.

Really? Again? Couldn’t this weirdo get lost?!

Sans dove behind the corner and out of sight, ducking behind the store’s recycling bin just in time to stay hidden. Dr. Gaster paused in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled something small and black out of his pocket, flipping through it.

Was that a wallet? What kinda monster used a wallet instead of just putting their money in their inventory? It was like he was asking to get picked.

“Oh no!” Dr. Gaster’s voice rang out as he pressed a hand to his cheek with a dramatic gasp. “I have all of this money. Whatever shall I do with it? Oh well, I suppose I’ll just leave it here for someone that could use it more than me.”

And then he dropped the wallet to the ground, spun on his heel, and walked away.

Oh. He was asking to get picked. Or, well, to give his money away, because it wasn’t really stealing if he left it behind on purpose, was it? This was the worst trap Sans had ever seen.

Sans took a small step back. He really should go. This was obviously a bad idea, and Sans could still feel Dr. Gaster’s magic around the corner as he loitered just out of sight.

Sans’s stomach ached, hunger piercing through his SOUL.

…Well, Dr. Gaster was a clumsy kinda guy anyway. Even if he was gonna try and grab Sans, there was no way he could make it before Sans could shortcut away.

Decision made, Sans darted out and snatched the wallet as he booked it directly into a shortcut that led to a street several blocks down. In the handful of seconds it took, Dr. Gaster didn’t so much as twitch towards Sans.

Which meant that wasn’t the trap.

Sans glared at the wallet in suspicion as he opened it, but to his relief there was actually gold in it… along with a creased note that Sans plucked out with steady hands as he pocketed the obscene amount of gold.

If you need anything, my number is xx-xxx-xx. Please, consider going back? I’ll make sure whatever happened before doesn’t occur again.

Yeah, right.

Sans snorted and dropped the wallet onto the concrete, just in case the scientist had done anything funny to it.

At least Sans didn't go to sleep hungry that night.

###

Sans was tired.

He’d been sick last night, his magic roiling as it stretched too big for his body again, and Papyrus had been fussy as a result. It didn’t help that Sans had to go all the way back to Hotland to get the New Home guards off his tail that day. Papyrus hated the steam.

To try and settle the fussy baby bones, Sans brought Papyrus to an empty park in Hotland, but that hadn’t helped—the area was mostly designed for little fire monsters to play, and therefore just as miserable. And now Sans was sitting on a park bench with Papyrus clinging to his side and screaming.

Tantrums were always hard to deal with. They got Sans looks, and looks had people starting to compare his face to the ones they’d seen on the missing kid posters Sans always tore down.

“please, papyrus,” Sans begged, shooting a quick look around to make sure they were still alone. “i’m sorry, i know you’re tired and wanna go home, but we can’t yet. why don’t you go play? we can play—tag! here, tag, you’re it!”

Sans bapped Papyrus on the head lightly, and Papyrus only cried harder, burying his face in Sans’s shirt.

“No!” he wailed. “Home, wan home! Bad here, bad bad bad! Bad San!”

Tears stung at Sans’s sockets, and he wanted to wail just like Papyrus was, but he couldn’t.

“i know, i know! i—” He sucked in a deep breath before yanking Fluffy Bunny out of his inventory with more force than usual. “look! it’s fluffy bunny. fluffy bunny is sad. don’t you want her to be happy? you gotta hug her, look.”

Sans held the bunny to his chest, and it was harder than it should be to let go so he could pass her to Papyrus. He’d never had a stuffed animal, and he was too old for one now, but he did kind of see why Papyrus loved her so much.

Sans took several deep breaths as he held the toy, his shoulders slowly untensing. He focused on the feeling of calm, okay and sent it through his bond with Papyrus. In response, Papyrus’s screams and cries quieted down.

And then—

“Bun?”

Papyrus patted Sans’s arm, tugging at the toy. Sans immediately let go, sagging back against the bench as Papyrus cuddled the bunny to his tear stained face.

Sans’s sockets fluttered closed as Papyrus started to play with Fluffy Bunny. Papyrus’s face was still tight, and they weren’t out of the red yet for tantrum territory, but if Sans was careful, that would be the end of it.

He needed to get Papyrus away from the humidity, though. Papyrus was most fussy when something was wrong, and Sans was very lucky he’d calmed down even without removing the problem.

Sans had to bring them home if he wanted to avoid another fit. And he would! Just… in a few more minutes—once Sans had caught his breath and shoved down the nausea that churned in his SOUL. Shortcuts were hard even when Sans wasn’t already sick.

Papyrus crawled into Sans’s lap and curled up against his chest, and Sans kept his sockets closed for a bit longer, only moving to run a hand over Papyrus’s skull in a soothing motion.

The bench shifted as someone sat down, big enough to cast a shadow, and way too close for a stranger. Sans’s sockets shot open, a familiar skull less than a foot away from his own, close enough that Dr. Gaster could reach out and grab Papyrus as easily as breathing.

“Are you okay—?” Dr. Gaster’s voice wobbled out, and Sans yelped, curling his hand up into a fist and slamming it forward into the delicate edge of a socket.

The man cursed, falling back as he cupped his face, and Sans grabbed Papyrus to his chest, the toddler already screaming again as Fluffy Bunny fell to the ground.

Sans yanked Papyrus through a shortcut before he doubled over and retched.

In the background, Papyrus screamed and sobbed as he flailed, and even now that he was in the less humid air of New Home, it didn’t matter, because Fluffy Bunny was gone.

When Sans was done throwing up, he staggered back to Papyrus, sinking to the ground. He looked desperately through his inventory for something to distract the toddler, but he couldn’t find anything.

“SAN! BUN BUN BUN BUN BUN! BUN NOW!!!”

Sans cried, too.

###

It was like that last sighting had broken the dam, because now everywhere Sans went, Dr. Gaster followed. Sans had gotten pretty good at spotting that lanky figure in a black coat in crowds, and dipping away before Dr. Gaster could see him.

Sans was pretty sure he hated the man. When he’d gone back to the park later that day, Fluffy Bunny was gone, and Papyrus had been fussier than usual since. Tantrums, which used to be much rarer, were increasingly common, and even the replacement stuffed cat Sans had found for Papyrus didn’t do anything to help.

But things hadn’t been all that bad. Sans had figured out a few tricks with his magic, and while he’d been sick because of it, he’d managed to make a permanent shortcut between an alley broom closet door and a closed off cave, deep into Waterfall. It really just looked like a room.

It was perfect.

Sans started gathering parts from the dump, and some books from the library about fixing up machinery. He lurked around a couple of the bigger casinos in New Home to figure out how they worked, and talked to a few people who were happy to rant about how the house rigged shit.

He put together a poker table, first. He’d found one water-damaged with a couple of broken legs in the dump, but with some tender love and care, it came back together in one piece. He found a couple slot machines, and a coin pusher, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough for Sans to put his plan in action.

He stuck an open sign on the door. He didn’t advertise too heavily, and he never had consistent hours—normally only working when Papyrus was asleep—but he got enough customers that he made it work.

Sans salvaged for deals on snacks and drinks, and he stuck a massive up charge on them after repackaging them to make them look more like the stuff the fancy parts of the city sold. If Sans spun it the right way, anything could be sold to the right audience.

It worked.

Ends were still tight, and it wasn’t easy trying to run a shitty little hole-in-the-wall gambling den, but Sans at least had a more consistent source of income. He couldn’t give up his other gigs—still running shell games on corners, pulling off melon drop scams on anyone that looked distracted enough, and swiping jewelry when he saw the opportunity—but things had settled some.

It would be easier if Sans could find someone to watch Papyrus, but Sans couldn’t rely on Papyrus remaining unrecognized if he took him to any conventional childcare. It didn’t matter, though. Sans could make this work, and as time went on, it got a bit easier.

Life moved on.

And of course that was when shit went to hell.

The door to Sans’s little gambling den swung open, and Sans tilted his head back, adjusting his cap with a friendly grin as he prepared to convince someone to just spend a couple gold more, when he froze.

“Wait!” Dr. Gaster yelped, and in his arms, he brandished Fluffy Bunny like the thief he was.

It was just enough to make Sans pause long enough for Dr. Gaster to spit out his request.

“Please don’t disappear! I made a poor impression last time we saw each other, but I swear, I am not going to do anything other than talk and return this.”

Dr. Gaster’s face pinched as he spoke, and Sans’s eyes were drawn to the crack above his right socket. It had been barely noticeable before, but now it was roughly an inch further up.

Served him right.

…Even if something unpleasant twisted in Sans’s SOUL at the sight that he normally only felt when Papyrus was upset and Sans couldn’t fix it. It was that odd feeling, along with the temptation of getting Fluffy Bunny back for Papyrus, that stopped Sans from running away immediately.

“sure, buddy. hand the rabbit over, and we can chat.”

Dr. Gaster stepped further into the room, and actually handed his hostage over to Sans like a complete idiot.

“Yes, of course!” he said. “Here, I also have something else—”

Sans froze, his plans on shortcutting as soon as he slipped Fluffy Bunny into his inventory halted.

…This was the guy that gave Sans over 2,000 gold, and with how much of an idiot he was, Sans could probably get a lot more out of him. Really, Dr. Gaster was the perfect mark, and after last time, Sans was pretty confident in his ability to beat him in a fight long enough to run away at least.

Sans rocked back on his heels, sticking his hands in his pockets and doing his best to make sure he looked casual while still being ready to dodge and run at a moment’s notice.

“considering you just ran me outta business, you’re gonna need a hell of a lotta g to make this up to me. 10,000 at least—this is good real estate.“

Gaster paused, and tilted his head to the side.

“…Apologies,” he signed. “But how have I run you out of business?”

Sans blinked, his jaw dropping. “seriously?”

Was this a terrible attempt to manipulate Sans, or did the man really think Sans was too stupid to move?

Slowly, testing out the waters, Sans explained, “i can’t exactly stay here, ‘cuz you’re gonna rat me out and tell the guard where to find me—if you haven’t already—and i’m not an idiot?”

Gaster let out a small sound of acknowledgement as he fiddled with a chewed up pen in his pocket absentmindedly. He dropped it a moment later to sign.

“Ah, I see. Battle tactics! Your location has been compromised. That does make sense. Except I promise I won’t 'rat you out,' and I certainly haven’t already. Battle tactics aren’t necessary when we aren't enemies.”

Sans scoffed as he rolled his eyelights. Of course. As always, another adult that thought he'd be easy to fool because he was a kid. Whatever. The dumber people thought he was, the more they underestimated him anyway. It made life easier.

“yeah, okay doc. i’ll stay here. thanks for not ratting me out.” The lie rolled off Sans’s teeth easily, but he couldn't bite back the sarcastic edge to it. “now where’s my g?”

Dr. Gaster hummed as he fished something distinctly not gold out of his inventory, but just as valuable. Cellphones were expensive, and not something Sans had ever prioritized.

Out loud, he said, “I have some gold as well, but first—I realized I didn’t know if you had a way to actually contact me if needed, so I programmed my number into this—”

Dr. Gaster stumbled over his words as he dropped the phone that he’d been nervously passing from hand to hand. He caught it with a clumsy fumble just in time to stop it from clattering to the ground, and then he shoved it in Sans’s direction.

“I digress. Here,” Dr. Gaster said.

Slowly, waiting to see what kind of trap this was, Sans took it. Nothing happened, even as Sans slipped the device into his inventory so he could examine for anything suspicious later.

“what's the catch?” Sans asked.

Dr. Gaster perked up as he shook his head, already pulling out more items from his inventory. Medicine, food, a jacket that just about looked Sans’s size, soap, water, a first-aid kit, and a nice looking backpack landed at Sans's feet, along with a decent stash of gold, and several… science textbooks?

“No catch,” Dr. Gaster reassured. “I just want to make sure that you have the things you need to take care of yourself and Papyrus, and that you can reach out for help if you need it until we're able to get you somewhere safer again.”

“we aren’t going back,” Sans snapped. “and you're an idiot if you think so.”

Sans chanced a look at the door, waiting for the guard to bust in, but when they didn’t, he dropped to his knees in a rush to collect everything. He scrambled to shove the items into the backpack, taking advantage of its ridiculously large inventory space. At this point, Sans was sure he was being stalled, but the things Dr. Gaster was luring him with were too expensive—too valuable—to leave behind. Not when Sans had to take care of Papyrus.

Sans hesitated at the textbooks, but there was enough space to shove them in, so he did.

“Why won’t you consider it?” Dr. Gaster’s voice was gentle, and the condescension made Sans grit his teeth together.

People always asked those questions, but Sans knew better than to think he actually wanted an answer. It was an excuse to steamroll over any of Sans's reasoning, because of course he just needed someone older and wiser to explain how the world worked to him.

Sans hefted the backpack onto his shoulders and took a step back, looking Dr. Gaster in the face as he bared his teeth in a grin.

“because fuck you, that's why.”

Sans stepped into his shortcut.