Archive of Our Own

Reaper was used to the sight of death.

It was his job to collect wayward souls and bring them to their respective places in the afterlife, so death wasn’t anything new.

Most deaths weren’t important across the multiverse, simply making rifts in families or destroying relationships, but they didn’t cause any massive change in there timelines. Unless it was someone important, there deaths didn’t affect the world, even less the multiverse.

Then again, grief wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. It wasn’t something left unseen.

Reaper watched as parents grieved their children, crying over their lifeless bodies, no matter the age. And yet he stood to the side, holding his scythe with the end of the shaft pointed into the ground. Leaving himself invisible to the mortal eye. At the beginning, it was hard to watch the sadness, the despair.

It didn’t even have to be children, however the death of young souls could cause a rare situation.

Because sometimes the adults could break that invisible sheet.

Those were some of the worst experiences.

When parents saw him, they, in their upset state, would spit insults and slander towards him. And yet, Reaper stayed silent, staring blankly at them. They would say things that didn’t matter, mortals had the silliest of thoughts, silliest of theories about the gods and the things they could do.

Then again, their depictions of the Gods of Death weren’t all that wrong. Reaper could never have claimed to have the head of a jackal, but the dark cloak and scythe were almost spot on adaptations. Then again, he wasn’t what most people expected to see as ‘Death’.

As time went on, Reaper slowly began to become numb. Death’s stopped hurting, they stopped mattering. Every soul was just another part of his job. It sounds bad, but he couldn’t feel bad about every unfortunate soul that happened to die and was taken by his hand.

He did his job, and that was that.

And yet, the gossip of the gods was still a big thing.

And that gossip seemed to mainly revolve around the Deaths.

See, whilst the youngest of the brothers, Respite, or Papyrus as known by the gods, was sociable, and spent time with some of the other gods, specifically Alphys and Undyne, War and Knowledge.

However, the elder Death kept to himself, he didn’t involve himself in the rumours and gossip, instead staying under the radar to every god, other than Asgore himself. Reaper slacked off work at every opportunity he could find, and it didn’t make the king best pleased with him, yet every restraint on his magic did nothing to halt the god. He was also almost always numerous hours late to work, which didn’t help his case in the slightest.

The gist was, if you were to choose one of the deathly brothers to interact with, choose the younger. At least then you’re not dealing with a lazy skeleton with an unhealthy addiction to coffee.

And yet there was one rumour permanently travelling around the godly realm.

‘Who could ever love someone like Death?’

At first, the question didn’t mean much to the reapers. They had never had any desire for love, not that anyone could love them, the barrier of their death touch too much for anyone to try and handle. The only thing they needed was eachother. Atleast, that’s what Papyrus always said when people were afraid of him. Then he met the couple that was Alphys and Undyne, they weren’t afraid of him (Alphys may have been, but she agreed with her wife that the younger reaper clearly meant no harm to them.)

That left Reaper alone, the elder death never finding anyone who cared enough to put up with him.

Until one day.

And Life’s name started working it’s way into that question.

The rumours of Toriel and Sans’ ‘relationship’ started to spread there way across the godly realm, the whispers getting louder and more prominent as time went on, and the pairs schedules changed to match eachother. Sure, the touch barrier was still very much there, but they worked around it.

And, yet, they couldn’t stay that way forever.

Reaper watched as the way Life acted around him started to change, as she started to get closer to him when they spoke, forcing him to back away everytime she tried.

Slowly, what she was doing started to click inside Reaper’s head.

Life liked him.

And yet he couldn’t return those feelings.

So instead, he stepped back from her. He stopped his timely visits, stopped their conversations before they could start. He didn’t want to hurt her… but then again…

‘Who could ever love someone like Death?’

So he refused her love.

Souls came and went, millenniums passed, and yet he continued his job. Watching as people cried over their loved ones bodies, next to a monitor in a hospital, infront of a grave, stood at the door of a school after a shooting, swinging his scythe over the souls and taking them to the underworld. His emotions fell numb, it was a cold-hearted thing to say, yet the eternal duty of bringing death and negativity to people was a hard job, dealing with the slander thrown at you, slowly learning to become unaffected, and continuing with what he had to do.

And yet there was one soul he refused to go to.

It was damaged beyond repair, and had been defying the strings of death for many years at this point. Reaper knew it would take a lot of energy and time to get that one to willingly go with him.

But he couldn’t put it off forever.

Little did he know answering the call of that soul would be one of the best things he ever did.

It was dark in the Save Screen, an infinite void with only a small section filled in with things. The screen, a small patch of grass…

And a short, blooded skeleton stood facing away from him.

And Reaper was right. That skeleton wasn’t going down without a fight.

The shorter skeleton wasn’t aware to his presence. That was probably quite a good thing. Reaper could easily catch him from behind, make things easier for himself.

He summoned his scythe to his side, spinning it in a circle before placing the flat end of it into the ground (Was there a floor here? Or was he walking on air…)

He gripped the weapon, then darted forward, swinging the scythe when he reached his target. It didn’t hit anything.

“Striking from behind… Pretty predictable method of attack, isn’t it?” A voice said from behind him.

He turned quickly, scythe still readied. Damn it, this couldn’t be easy, could it.

The skeleton had teleported behind him at the last minute, and was now stood there, arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face, blood dripping from his mouth as he very obviously swallowed it. He summoned numerous bone constructs around himself, his single eyelight glowing, dual-toned red and blue.

“Eh, what can I say?” Reaper smiled in response, dispelling the scythe and raising his hands in a shrugging matter. “Been doing this for years, can’t get much more ‘predictable’ then that.”

The shorter hummed in acknowledgment, the bone attacks staying where they were. “So then, what do you want with me.”

Reaper’s smile turned cocky, as he slowly began to step towards the skeleton. Said skeleton uncrossed his arms, backing away whilst raising a hand in preparation to send the attacks forward.

“Do you ever stop to think that at some point in your life your name gets mentioned for the very last time?” Reaper re-summoned his scythe, pointing it forward. “Well, here it is. I’m going to kill you. That’s why I’m here. You’ve been-“

“No.”

And that’s when numerous sharp bones were thrown at him.

That skeleton was a feisty one, Reaper would give him that. He was also very determined, presumably the reason why his eyelight was half red. That was the first time in centuries that Reaper left a fight tired out.

The god had encountered many Sanses in the past, more specifically the group that identified themselves as the Stars. The Darks showed their faces sometimes, but that was rare. The last time Reaper saw them was when their leader tried to enlist the help of the death god in his ‘bringing of negativity’.

Let’s just say he got a bone thrown at his face and was teleported out almost instantly.

Back to the point, Reaper had seen Sanses before, which is why it was clear that this skeleton was, too, a Sans.

And the gaping gash across his torso gave the idea that he was the result of a genocide route gone off the rails.

Hence the red scarf he had tied around his neck…

The fight lasted longer than Reaper expected, as the skeleton he was fighting was a painfully good dodger. He was still a Sans, though, and Sanses were known for their dodging abilities. It annoyed the children that fell down of every universe, but it did make genocide runs harder to achieve when they eventually got stuck fighting the Sans of their universe. Genocide’s were a painful bit of work, and Reaper didn’t appreciate the extra workload. Let alone the amount of replica’s of his friends he’d come across.

Yet Sanses were also easy to beat when you knew their patterns.

And this one was no different.

His pattern was harder to follow, he’d clearly perfected it in however long he’d been stuck here. But exhaustion would come, and that would allow Reaper to do his job. He just had to wait this out.

And hope he didn’t tire out first.

The blooded skeleton was visually exhausted, his eyelight dimming and flickering between its usual white hue.

Reaper was tired also, but his was less visible due to his lack of eyelights, or atleast he hoped it was.

The shorter slowed down, his attacks coming slower and his dodges cutting extremely close. He was very clearly panting.

Then, suddenly, he gave up. The bones surrounding him were dispelled, and he shut his socket in defeat. He grabbed his scarf with one of his hands, tipping his head down into it.

“I’m sorry, Paps…” He muttered into the fabric.

He clearly didn’t expect the scythe coming at his neck to stop too.

“What are you-“

And with a flash of blue magic, the god was gone.

…

What was that?

Reaper knew something about that soul was different even before he encountered it, but now it was clearer. He was damaged, a soul from a collapsed timeline of a specific universe that was supposed to die years ago, but had avoided death for a long time in his solace of the Screen. A member of a genocide run gone wrong, but there was one thing that stood out to him.

Reaper was certain that, during that fight, they had brushed past eachother, touching, at least once, and yet the determined skeleton didn’t die.

He was immune to Death’s touch.

So the question returned.

‘Who could ever love someone like Death?’

Apparently, a certain grumpy skeleton could.

Geno was clearly used to hiding things from people, being from an alternate timeline where he remembered everything that the human of his universe did. Genocide after genocide, he remembered every one. He didn’t tell people about his memories, let alone Reaper, which was fair enough, considering the first time they met the god had basically tried to kill him.

But, slowly, Geno started to open up to him.

Little things at first, small things to do with his timeline. They weren’t much, but they were something.

And Reaper learnt to love it.

Touch starved for years with the inability to touch anyone, and Geno’s solitude in the Save Screen went hand in hand.

It took a while, building this glitchy skeletons trust was hard, but they slowly started to get closer. Neither could remember who confessed first.

But then that was that.

They started dating, and both realised love wasn’t a bad thing. They loved eachother, they knew that.

There was one issue with their relationship, however.

Geno couldn’t exactly leave his house.

After being stuck here for so long, Geno had developed quite a strong feeling of agoraphobia, but it was literal too. If Geno left the Screen, he would dust. That was the only barrier between them.

And no matter how hard Reaper tried, neither could find a way around that.

When they first started to date, the god decided he needed to find a way to get Geno out. To do that, he needed to tell someone.

He’d been going to the Alphys of his universe since he first met his boyfriend, getting advice about things mortals dealt with that he had no clue about. The goddess didn’t know Geno’s name, the only thing she knew about him was that Reaper felt a certain way about him. She didn’t push, pushing a death god when you were susceptible to death magic wasn’t the best idea, letting Reaper refer to his partner as ‘him’ and nothing more. She didn’t mind, being friends with his brother and all, she was happy he’d met someone he was able to talk to.

Meaning when he came to her asking for advice on this specific subject, she was confused to say the least.

“I-I’m sorry, what are y-you asking?” She asked the pacing god infront of her.

“I’m just asking, if-“ Reaper briefly stopped still, clapping his hands together. “-theoretically – someone happened to have such low stats that they, uh, couldn’t leave a certain place, how would you get them out?”

“S-Sans, I would need m-more information then that,” Alphys stated, continuing looking for a specific book on the shelves by her (It’s not every day you’re looking for research on what some mortals believe in and you turn to see a god of death in your science lab). “And I d-don’t understand why you would b-be worried about that!”

“Come on, Alph, you’re knowledge! You know everything about everything, so why can’t you help me with this?” Reaper was starting to sound exasperated.

“Is this-“ She was almost afraid to ask. “Is t-this about him?”

Reaper went quiet, turning his head to face Alphys, however it wasn’t completely clear where he was looking due to his lack of eyelights. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“O-Oh, alright then.” The goddess looked down. She started to think about solutions to what the god was trying to ask. “I s-suppose you would need, uh, something to h-hold his stats steady, s-something made with m-magic…”

That peaked Reaper’s attention. “You could make something, couldn’t you? With Gaster’s help?”

Alphys’ head shot up. “P-Probably! But it c-could take a while.”

“I can wait as long as it takes, goddess.”

“O-Ok, then.”

And Alphys was tasked with finding a way to help Death’s lover.

It was a strange request, especially as she needed Gaster’s assistance to complete it, but she’d rather not get struck down by Death, and he seemed genuinely concerned for his partner, so what could be the harm?

Reaper didn’t tell Geno about his request to Knowledge, instead acting like nothing had happened. It didn’t matter, they loved eachother and that was it.

And Reaper learnt the hard way that he was much more accustomed to people crying from death.

Crying from life however? That was far out of his pay check.

Apparently, unknowingly to either of the couple, being a skeleton meant that you didn’t need to have ‘physical relations’ (That’s how Gaster had put it when Reaper was younger, he hadn’t questioned it.) to have a child. You only needed a strong soul bond and a want for one.

Neither expected it, but they loved it nonetheless. A child created by soul combination and a gift from life wasn’t the most natural of things. Both weren’t entirely sure how to deal with it, but then again, both had pretty much raised their brothers, so they had a slight idea as to what they were doing.

They named the child Goth, a combination of their names (Geno and Death). Very original, they knew, but it fit,

Geno was fully decided that he didn’t want Goth to grow up in the Save Screen, and that if they were going to do this the kid would have to live with Reaper in his universe. The god agreed.

However there was yet another problem with that…

And that was the fact that Reaper didn’t live alone.

“Sans…” Papyrus started. “Why do you have a child?”

“Trust me, I’m not really thrilled about this either.” Reaper said through gritted teeth, holding the kid in his arms.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” His brother sighed. “So I’ll ask again. Why. Do. You Have. A child.”

“…It’s a long story.”  Reaper tried to duck past Papyrus, not wanting to teleport any further whilst holding a baby. The younger god wouldn’t let him.

“Sans, you cannot avoid my question forever. The only way this could be possible is-“ A look of both confusion and realisation spread across his face. “Brother, do you-?”

Reaper cut him off. “Maybe.”

“SANS WHAT.”

Papyrus actually took it quite well, considering his brother now had a kid, meaning he was now an uncle. He took his role as uncle very seriously, looking after Goth whenever it was required, and when neither could, looking after the kid was Toriel’s job.

But, of course, happy endings couldn’t last forever.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Reaper snapped, his death side starting to slip out.

“S-Sans, we’ve been t-trying for a while now, a-and… I just don’t t-think it’s p-possible anymore…” Alphys backed away, not wanting to get caught with haywire death magic.

Undyne was stood alongside her wife, and she placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sans, I’m not sure how long Alph has been trying, but do you really think she’d lie to you?”

“That’s not-“ Reaper sighed, seemingly waiting for his magic to fade for a moment. “That’s not what I meant. There just… there has to be a way.”

“Me a-and Gaster have been t-trying since you first a-asked us to try, and yet we’ve still found n-no way of doing what y-you’ve asked!” Alphys continued, stepping forward once she heard the gods tone go back to normal.

“…You really don’t think there’s a way.” From Reaper’s tone, it was clear he wasn’t looking straight at them, but where he was looking exactly wasn’t clear.

“We also don’t see how this is important, nothing I have heard of is living under these circumstances-“ Undyne stated, before getting cut off.

“Well you haven’t met him, and I promise you these are very real-“

“Sans.” Undyne tried again. “Asgore is already unhappy with you for abandoning work more than usual at late. Now, we know why, and that’s why we haven’t said anything to him, but if he finds out about Goth then-“

“How do you-“ Reaper cut her off, his eyelight briefly flashing blue before his magic dispelled itself. “…Paps told you…”

“H-He didn’t!” Alphys hurriedly added. “W-We… Me and Undyne went to c-check up on him, b-because, you know, h-he hasn’t been a-around much lately and…” She trailed off.

“We saw, but it’s not his-“ There was a flash of blue magic. “…fault.”

With that, Sans was gone.

Things couldn’t get worse from there, could they?

Right?

Reaper teleported to the Save Screen, deciding it was time to come clean about what he’d been trying to do, hoping that his boyfriend wouldn’t think it weird for him to have done this behind his back.

When he looked around, however, Geno wasn’t there.

All of the random stuff Reaper had dragged through portals with or without Geno’s knowledge was still scattered around, yet the most important part of the Screen was missing. And he wasn’t talking about Geno.

The screen was shut off.

“NononononoNONONONONO-!” Reaper repeated the mantra to himself, frantically looking around out of shear panic.

That’s when he realised.

Up until this point, his boyfriends soul had called out, since Geno was eternally dying, but now, he couldn’t hear it.

Instantly he teleported to the main universe, the one the glitch came from, AfterTale, the name came to mind.

And he saw something he didn’t expect.

The sun. The thing Geno had just a vague memory of from the few pacifists the human had done. Meaning this timeline was a pacifist timeline, but where did Geno fall into this…?

Then he spotted it.

The picture that was at the end of every pacifist, on that cliff just outside Ebott. The group of monsters was stood on the edge, Reaper had seen it before, he was often called to timelines just before a reset gone wrong. But there was something different about this one.

There was an extra person.

That red scarf was an awful reminder.

Reaper opened his encounter menu, then clicked a button

ACT -> CHECK

Sans  Geno

ATK 1     DEF 1

HP 1/1

He Finally Made It

Reaper took in a shaky breath when he noticed the HP. It was full. He didn’t know how that was even possible, but it was.

Geno turned from the sun slightly, clearly having felt the check action. He spotted Reaper stood against the mountain, having quickly crossed his arms and started float-sitting.

Everyone else had since started to walk away, but Geno continued looking back, waiting for the rest to leave.

“New brother! Are you coming?” A voice that Reaper recognised as a Papyrus called back.

“Just gimme a sec, Paps.” Geno shouted back, then turned fully to face the god. His cut was gone, and no blood was dripping from his mouth anymore.

Reaper walked towards him, not bothering to float anymore. Geno smiled slightly, holding his scarf with his hand.

“I should have told you…” Geno was the first to talk once Reaper had stopped a slight distance from him. “I’ve… been talking to Sans, he figured out a way to get me out of there. Butterscotch pie, who woulda thought…”

They stood in a comforting silence for a while, both waiting for the other to talk.

“…You made it.” Reaper stated, no emotion to the phrase.

“I… I guess I did.” Geno smiled, locking eyes with his partner. “I can leave the screen…”

“…Your HP’s full.” The god continued, looking down with his eyes.

“It is-“ Geno stopped himself when he noticed Reaper change where he was looking. “Reaps?”

The ex-glitch stepped towards his boyfriend, who instinctively stepped back. Geno looked confused at the movement.

“Gen… You’re alive.” Reaper finished, stepping back again.

Geno’s socket blanked, finally realising what the god was saying.

“Y-You mean-“

“I’m sorry.”

With a flash of blue magic, Reaper teleported away.

Reaper didn’t go back to AfterTale, not after that. If a soul there needed him then it was his brothers job. He didn’t intend to just abandon Geno, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back there.

So him and Geno never spoke again.

Every now and then, Papyrus would come back from work, clearly having been to AfterTale, saying that someone had been asking for Reaper. The elder god promptly avoided the questioning, ducking away or making excuses to do with Goth. He knew it was wrong, he knew Goth would grow up motherless from here on out, but then again, could he even let Geno see Goth? If the kid inherited even the slightest bit of death touch from his father (even if that was just power draining) he could seriously hurt someone. And with Geno now being fully mortal…

Reaper wasn’t willing to risk a death just for that.

However, it was when Papyrus came back with a blood red scarf that everything caved.

He stated that something had happened to the owner, the owner being who had been asking about Reaper, and that the other beings of the universe had said that Reaper’s ‘relationship’ with it meant that it should belong to him. The elder death spent the time his brother spent talking looking down, refusing to meet his eyes. He tried to hide the magic slowly building in his sockets, and once Papyrus had finished, he took the fabric and headed to his room, not bothering to put Goth back in his cot. Reaper stayed there, refusing to answer anyone or anything, only leaving once the infant needed to go to bed. That’s when Papyrus finally forced him to talk.

And he did.

Slowly, Goth grew up, and questions started. Those questions were mainly being asked by the three main gods who knew about the kids existence. Said three were slowly starting to include Toriel in their accusations, and Reaper knew he couldn’t dodge them forever.

Luckily enough, the godly realm started worrying about things other than Death’s love life.

Quite a few months passed since Geno made it out of the Screen, leaving Goth almost a year old, when a new threat started working its way into the mix.

That threat being Error.

Ink, leader of the Stars, had showed up one day, commanding that Asgore alert all the other gods to the danger of the Destroyer of the Multiverse. That he was going around causing universal collapses everywhere, and was a threat to every realm, no matter the power of the people inside.

That drew attention away from Reaper, and onto this ‘Destroyer’.

His origin was unknown, all anyone actually knew was that he currently resided in the Anti-Void, and was clearly a Sans from a separate timeline, however which one was yet again unknown. This threat had seemingly appeared suddenly and out of nowhere, and had become one of the worst dangers of the multiverse. The error was rumoured to be destroying any universe or timeline he considered to be an anomaly and taking it’s souls hostage, either killing them or holding them in the anti-void.

The lack of attention was nice at first, however it slowly started to become an issue for the death gods.

Because the more universes destroyed by Error, the more souls that fall out of line. Living ones are taken to the Omega Timeline, whilst dead ones are left to the gods.

With the extra souls having to be collected, that left almost no off time for both elder and younger deaths, and no complaint to Asgore was going to change that. The brothers were really starting to struggle with the amount of extra workload.

Though, it didn’t take Error long to find that universe.

And Reaper was hesitant to return.

He wasn’t trying to abandon Geno, far from it, especially since Goth had never met his mother properly. He loved his boyfriend, though that was kind of the problem.

Relationships with mortals were forbidden.

One with a dying soul was probably a worse offence.

However, once Error found AfterTale, it was hard to avoid going back. And, unfortunately for Reaper, yet painfully ironic, Papyrus was busy in one of the other collapsed universes on the day it happened.

So, the only one left to help was Reaper.

Even though he didn’t want to.

Seeing the surface hurt, he realised. It was strange, all of the other universes ‘surfaces’ didn’t affect him, but this one was specific, although Geno his old partner had always wanted to make it out, to see the stars. Not being able to experience it with him hurt.

Though that wasn’t why he was here. He wasn’t here to reminisce. He was here to stop Error’s reign of destruction, that was it.

So he pushed the feelings down, and tucked the crimson red fabric back up into his sleeve, out of view.  

He walked further into the city, following the sounds of explosion, thinking that was probably a good symboliser of where the Destroyer was, hand gripped tightly on the staff of his scythe.

When he got to the centre, he wasn’t sure what he expected to see.

A Sans, presumably the one from this universe, was strung up in blue threads, his soul entirely visible, whilst also having blue strings holding onto it. There were some others gathered around, a Papyrus and a human being the two most noticable, though Reaper didn’t bother to remember the childs name. He knew the muderous one was Chara, but the pascifist’s one escaped him. The Destroyer didn’t seem to have clocked his prescence, focused solely on the strung up skeleton infront of him. The death god took this as an advantage.

He edged closer, staying near to the buildings, but making sure not to run into any of the fleeing humans. Once close enough, he threw the scythe that was still summoned in his hands. It sliced through the strings holding the Sans, who quickly shortcutted to the ground, and confused the glitching skeleton, causing him to look around. Reaper smirked to himself, making sure that his magic held up, keeping him invisible to everyone else. Toying with enemies was fun, he knew that, confusing them and striking them when they least expected it brough some sort of thrill.

So he teleported forward, Error still looking in the opposite direction, spinning around a moment too early as he felt the prescence of Death come closer. Reaper’s scythe cut through the glitches torso, similar to how a human to a Sans in a genocide would do it (Perhaps the time him and Life had spent talking to Mercy was paying off).

Error stumbled back, finally seeming to have a weakness. Blood started to drip down his chest, though he wasn’t dead.

That was weird. Yet, this was Error, who was one of the few beings in the multiverse who had some very strange features about him. But, then again, a cut from Death’s scythe should cause at least some slight dusting, especially since it wasn’t like the Destroyer couldn’t be touched by Reaper, the cut was clean.

That’s when Reaper spotted it.

As the blood dripped down from the gash on the error’s front, his SOUL became visible. In the red of the cut, a small, fragment of white shone through.

And when the god would repeat fragment, he meant fragment.

The soul wasn’t full, a small crack of it was all that was there, a ninth, to be specific. Most couldn’t survive with that little of a soul to hold them steady, so the fact that Error was standing would have been shocking to everyone else.

Everyone else, that is.

Not to Reaper.

He recognised the fragmented soul.

He recognised how weak it felt. He recognised the way it showed itself, yet didn’t look right. He recognised how it kept the glitch alive.

Because determination shimmered within it.

Error quickly brought his hand up to cover his chest, the symbols around him appearing and dissappearing violently. His eyes filled with the same word, as he pushed his spare hand back to open a portal behind him, the glitches making it look like a crack in the dimension, and he stumbled through it as quickly as he could.

Although the glitch had tried to cover it with his hand, Reaper had seen. He saw the fragment of white in the gash.

And it left him frozen.

But the reason that neither him or Papyrus had felt Geno’s soul calling, now he knew, wasn’t because his boyfriend’s soul was lost.

It was because Geno had never died.

That realisation had sent Reaper into a state of collapse. He’d instantly teleported back to the house he shared with Papyrus, more specifically into his room. It was selfish to leave Paps to do all of the work, but he just couldn’t. Not after that.

Reaper watched as the godly realm fluttered around with panic about the villain, including the younger Death god. All gods were afraid for the multiverse, all but one that is.

The elder Death god went numb, refusing to imput any extra information that he had recovered, if he’d aquired any at all. He seemed permanently plagued with a piece of knowledge that he denied whenever he was asked. Reaper started to blank others, leaving Papyrus to any and all universes Error destroyed, whilst he did the extra. But the parts that worried the gods the most were the things that shouldn’t have ever been happening.

Reaper wasn’t finding excuses anymore.

He wouldn’t find excuses to make snarky comments about Asgore, nor was he slacking off. The god was just… involved, which wasn’t like him. The things that gave him both personality and made him hated by the major gods were no longer in action.

Which is why everyone was starting to become worried.

So, out of hope, they went to the deities closest to him.

Unfortunately, most of the questions landed on Alphys.

Being Knowledge, many of the accusations and suspicion fell to the goddess herself, as they expected her to know everything, or atleast be able to find out the truth if she didn’t already know. Alphys was swarmed with questions about the Death god and both his connections and his current silence, and yet the truth was she didn’t know anything. Reaper was secretive at best, and since the beginning of this whole ordeal, he’d gotten worse, so her knowledge on him was extremely limited. But she couldn’t tell everyone that, could she? Not easily.

So she said she’d find out.

She didn’t want to pry into her friend’s personal life, so what she said was a lie. But she tried, because when she didn’t return with any extra information, she was pushed again, and again.

And she slowly started to break.

Undyne became aware of the trauma her wife was being put through by the others, and she, for one, wasn’t standing for it. With War starting to become hostile towards them, most gods backed down, choosing other sources to go to instead, such as Life or the younger Death.

Yet it started to become ever clearer that these deities were being pushed to ask by Asgore himself, as whenever they were denied an answer, they would shakily head back to their source, only to return with extra determination a couple of days later. With this extra information, the group of gods and goddess’ centred around Reaper became slightly more cautious with the conversation’s they had, and with the extra knowledge they passed to both eachother and other gods.

Their suspicion was proved right when most major gods were called to Asgore, an ‘emergency meeting on his mind’.

Lets just say the group gave a less than plausible answer.

“Thank you for meeting with me today, especially at such short notice, but there is a matter that we must discuss.” Asgore started, looking down at the present gods.

“We know what this is about, Asgore.” Undyne stated simply. “It’s about Sans, correct?”

The king nodded simply. “More specifically about his whereabouts at the moment. Or what is going on, if any of you are aware?”

“We are not.” Undyne briefly turned to the others, who were watching her as she spoke. “What is wrong with him remains private.”

Papyrus looked down, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, whilst Alphys just looked uncomfortable. It was clear that both knew something, as did Undyne, yet she was better at hiding it.

“I will believe you, War,” Asgore continued, and Undyne noted what he called her. “Where is Sans currently?”

“At our house.” Papyrus stated quickly.

“And you two have spoken, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“So why, pray tell…” Asgore gripped the throne he was currently sat on. “…Why on earth is this knowledge escaping you, Death the Younger?”

Papyrus’ head snapped up, slight fear on his face. Undyne swiftly stepped in.

“Sire, I do ask that you do not blame him for this. Sans’ state has caused him to refuse to speak with any of us.” The goddess stated, trying to keep her voice level.

“Oh, but it is not just that, is it?” The king started, speaking through gritted teeth. “There have been complaints, recently, from other gods. Unexplained noises from inside your house, even further incomprehensible things. Papyrus, as your superior? I command you to tell-“

“I do not believe you should be spying on our every move. We may have a better relationship with Sans then you do, but that does not give you liability to watch us.” Undyne snapped, her tone beginning to become agitated.

“Silence, goddess. I believe it is time to let these two speak, is it not?” Asgore stood, stepping forward once. Undyne looked between the others, noticing that he didn’t seem to care that Toriel was present, and silent.

“My liege, I do not know what you are asking us to say! We know nothing of the sorts-!” Papyrus started, though was cut off by an annoyed snarl coming from the king.

“I do not believe that is the truth however, is it? I command you to be honest!” Asgore clenched his fists, glaring daggers at the group. “Where is Sans? I thought my request was simple enough that he was a required attendant.”

“It is up to him what he attends and what he doesn’t, sir.” Undyne stated blankly.

There was silence, then Asgore smiled. “War, go and get Sans. Papyrus stated that he was at home. So go.”

“But sir-“

“I. Said. Go.”

Undyne sighed, then turned on her heel and strolled out, only to double back on herself a couple minutes later.

“Slight issue,” She stated, her voice shaking slightly. “He’s, uh, not there…?”

“WHAT.”

When Sans went missing that day, the godly realm was more than slightly afraid. It wasn’t unlike him to disappear unannounced, especially at the moment, though his sudden disappearance in both Death gods small window of rest was… strange.

Little did they know what he was doing.

Reaper was spying again.

It was one of his pass times at the moment, keeping an eye on Error. If anyone asked, he would say that it was for ‘research purposes’ , though whether or not they knew the truth was up for debate.

Ok, fine, the truth was that he was spying on Error. Was he going to tell anyone that? No,

He still hadn’t told anyone about his latest discovery. How he would tell people was unknown, it wasn’t the easiest thing to just come out and say. That would make him sound insane, trying to explain that the Destroyer of the Multiverse was infact his ex boyfriend. So he just didn’t.

Normally he did the spying during his work time, it allowed him to skip work without getting scolded by Asgore again. But this time, he’d left Pap in charge of looking after Goth whilst he went to do ‘extra work’ (Papyrus knew this was absolute BS, but decided to ignore it for his brothers mental state.)

As far as he was aware, no one had caught on to his escapades, but how long that would last was questionable.

So Reaper sat in his corner of the Anti-Void, making sure to keep his magic up so he’d stay invisible to those present. That was something cool certain gods could do, make themselves invisible to the mortal eye. It was often quite helpful when it came to his job, though other times he used it for his own pleasures, such as right now.

It seemed like Error was currently watching some sort of television program with Ink, though he was stood too far away to be able to hear what they were saying. He was tempted to get closer, but he feared his presence would be felt, so remained in his place. It was clear that they were discussing something mildly amusing, as both of the pair seemed to be laughing. Curiosity got the better of him, and he shortcutted close enough to eavesdrop.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the show they were watching was entirely in Spanish (Trust a pair of multi-dimensional beings to watch a show they only half understand.) and didn’t actually seem to be a show at all, but a dimensional portal opened by Error to glimpse in on another universe. For the most part they had meaningless conversations, things about stuff Reaper didn’t care to pay attention. But eventually, the conversation became mildly interesting.

“Soooooo,” Ink started, pulling up his knees to his chest. “We gonna talk about that?”

Error turned away from his paint counterpart. “About what?”

“You know, that.” The latter continued. “What we were just talking about?”

“Ugh, the one time you remember something important is when I don’t want you to, paint freak. ” The glitch shifted in the bean bag he was sat on.

Reaper had since moved to stand behind where the pair was sitting, sitting cross-legged in the air with his head rested on his palm. He could see their faces from his current position, and it seemed both were blushing.

“…Was it true…?” Ink’s voice was quiet, and relatively emotionless. The god hadn’t heard it like that before.

“…Look Ink, you protect the Multiverse, I destroy it. It just wouldn’t work even if I was being honest.”

What wouldn’t work? What were they talking about?

“I don’t care.” Ink continued, shuffling until he was on his knees and facing sideways towards Error. “If you were telling the truth, I want it to work.”

Reaper made a quiet groaning sound, irritated at the miscommunication between them and him. Sure, he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place, but he atleast wanted to know what was going on.

“…Fine.” Error forced out, waving his hand to shut the window infront of them. “Then yes. It was true.”

Ink gave a small gasp, putting his hands out infront of him to support his weight. He leaned forward, though being on the ground still, his mouth hanging open slightly. Reaper absently noted that Ink’s eyelights had since turned into both a heart and an exclamation mark, though the reason why was still unclear.

“Then… lets try.” Ink smiled, turning back to face forward, a smile resting on his face. Error continued to blush, the ERROR signals around him becoming less frantic.

“…Paint freak.”

“Glitchy~”

“Never say that again.”

Ink chuckled in answer, his eyelights changing symbols again, though what to Reaper couldn’t see.

As he’d already turned away, a look of understanding working its way across his face. He let himself come to stand on the floor (Was there a floor here? Or was he just walking on air…), a hand reaching up to cover his permanent grin. He turned away from the pair of flustered skeletons and slowly walked away, then shortcutted back to his own universe.

Once he regained his barings, looking around to make sure in his emotional state he hadn’t managed to shortcut into an abyss, he removed his hand, his breath’s coming out shaky. Those same breath’s hitched when a sharp pain sliced through his chest, leaving a throbbing sensation behind. At first, he wondered if he’d been stabbed, but the realisation soon changed. The pain was his SOUL shattering.

It was official.

Geno was gone.

When Papyrus returned from the meeting, slightly alarmed at his brother’s whereabouts, and spotted Reaper close to hyperventilating in the middle of their living room, the younger Death was confused, but was further worried by his older brothers sudden disappearance and change in behaviour than anything.

He didn’t know Reaper could sound like that.

His voice was quiet, hurried, and seemingly frightened, but he still refused to answer any of Papyrus’es questions on the matter, so the younger stopped pushing, instead taking to calming his brother down. He didn’t mention Asgore’s coming annoyance at his inability to attend the royal meeting, knowing it would either further panic him or annoy him. Papyrus remained silent, gently rubbing his older brothers shoulder as the mentioned covered his face, not making a sound. If he was whispering, which it sounded like he was trying to every now and then, the words weren’t coming out as he wanted them to. So the pair sat in an uncomfortable quiet. Papyrus didn’t even bother to mention the fact that Reaper’s child had been left alone for a very long time. Luckily, the infant had been deep into a scheduled nap, so hadn’t woken, suprisingly. Though Papyrus checked on the child as soon as Reaper had passed out against him.

The younger Death repeated the ordeal to the deities he trusted, the three main ones also plagued by the accusing questions. All four seemed equally as worried as one another, but decided not to further discuss the matter whilst Asgore was on high alert.

Then word started to spread about a new relationship.

One more interesting than the romance between Death and a mortal.

The partnership of The Creator and The Destroyer.

At first it started simple. Ink had showed up only a few days after Reaper’s episode, announcing that he and Error had made a truce. He didn’t go into details on the agreement, only stating that the work for the gods should be less grueling from here on out.

Then the rumours started.

‘The truce is formed by a romantic alliance!’ One of the many deities of gossip had stated, causing havoc to rise within the godly realm. It may not have been a god and a mortal, but Error’s origin was still unknown, meaning it could’ve theoretically been a worse offence.

Yet, for once, Reaper remained out of the gossip. Infact, he’d been pretty much mute since the ordeal, his expressions and emotions numb. Everytime he was forced into a meeting, any mention of Errors name would cause him to flinch away, looking away and still refusing to speak.

Most of the realm wondered why Papyrus wasn’t forcing an answer out of his brother, though the truth was he had tried. Sans had walls built up at the best of times, though whatever had upset him had caused those walls to close in, creating a cage that no one could seem to find a way into. The sudden seclusion and seeming fear at the Destoyers name had caused the god to shut down.

His SOUL had weakened, Papyrus noted, the strength of it having lessened in the last week.

And that made the younger Death concerned.

So he tried for the last time.

“Brother, please!” Papyrus begged, following close behind his brother, who was trying to retreat from the room. “Just talk to me!”

“There’s nothing to say-!” Sans’ voice was raspy, clearly from his lack of speaking. He stopped in place, sighing. “…Look, Pap. What’s done is done. There’s nothing you or I can do.”

“Then why is it affecting you like this?!” Papyrus’ voice was raised to it’s normal loud volume, though it was lower from his upset. “Brother- if you can’t change the outcome then-“

“I have the right to worry.” There was no emotion in his tone, the statement coming out bare.

“Worry about what?!” The younger tried again, his tone laced with desperation. “How do you expect us to help you if you don’t talk?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Then atleast tell the truth! Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

“I don’t want to burden you, Paps.” There was a tremble in Sans’ voice now.

“You are not a burden to me, brother! You never have been! I just want you to tell me who hurt you like this!” Papyrus placed a hand on his brothers shoulder, and he could feel the shorter shaking.

“…It’s not his fault.” The elder Death muttered, shurgging the younger off.

Papyrus paused at those words. “…What?”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. Tell me.”

“It’s fine. I can’t do anything anyway.”

“Sans-“

The shorter god was gone before Papyrus could finish.

Reaper didn’t come back that night.

Nor did he return the next day.

Or the day after that.

His SOUL had finally weakened to the point where Papyrus couldn’t sense it anymore. Only one major amount of Death magic was felt, and that was in himself. Reaper had well and truly dropped off the radar.

He didn’t come back to ReaperTale.

But he did go somewhere else.

Error sat on the edge of one of the many planets of OuterTale, staring upwards at the sky. It was permanently night there, and the stars glimmered like little lights in the darkness. It was honestly kind of beautiful. Error couldn’t bring himself to destroy it.

He held one of the dolls he’d been making in the palm of his hand, gently squeezing it. He could hear certain of the louder voices having idle conversations, none of which were aimed at him, yet there was one that never shut up.

Error didn’t know where this specific voice resided, only that it was just constantly there, having opinions on everything. It could’ve been someone he knew before he became this, though his amnesic state after waking up wasn’t helping matters. It seemed to know more about him then he knew about himself, yet it never dared to attempt anything it knew the glitch wouldn’t allow.

‘Well,’ He heard it start, ‘Ink wouldn’t have been my first attempt, but you do you I guess.’

Error ignored it, as he always did when the voices spoke. Unfortunately, this one was painfully determined.

‘I know you can hear me, Error.’ It continued, then sighed softly. ‘Fine, be that way.’

The silence was comfortable, giving the glitch time to continue working on the doll in his hand, whilst the persistant voice made a quiet humming sound, clearly having found something to hold back it’s boredom. It was quiet for a while, then the humming turned curious.

‘Reaper.’ It breathed, so quiet it probably wouldn’t have been heard it if wasn’t for the fact it was directly in Error’s ears (metaphorically).

Error sighed, placing his creation in his lap. “What do you want, Death.”

“Can’t I go to a universe you’re in anymore? Charm-“ Reaper quickly sidestepped as a dark bone bullet was sent his way.

“Shut up.” Error remained still, placing his hand down from where it had previously thrown an attack. He wasn’t just talking to Reaper though, as the quiet voice had taken to muttering things that might as well have been gibberish.

“Right.” Reaper stated, his voice rasping as he cleared his throat.

The sound caused the voice to start breathing quiet, panicky questions to itself. Error frowned, teleporting with a flash so that he was facing Reaper instead. He summoned a blaster alongside him in warning. The god coughed a couple more times with his non existent throat, then took the warning as a message to step back.

“Look, I just wanted to talk.” He stated, hands up in a surrender manner.

“Talk about what? I have no business with you.” Error held his hand out infront of him, preparing to fire the laser blaster beside him.

Reaper lowered his hands, shaking his right arm as if to slide something down his sleeve. It was made clear that was exactly what he was doing when a long piece of red fabric slipped out. Error glared at him in suspicion. The voice gave a gasp, then muttered something about a scarf, until the glitch shushed it again.

“I just want you to hear me out.” Reaper continued, the material still clutched in his fist. Error wasted no time in firing the still summoned blaster towards the god.

Reaper darted out of the way, though didn’t strike back. Error summoned bone attacks, though the same outcome occurred.

Attack.

Dodge.

Spare.

Attack.

Dodge.

Spare.

Attack.

Dodge.

Spare.

Even when Reaper did eventually strike back, it was clearly not intended to hurt. He swiped forward with his scythe, forcing Error to jump backwards to avoid it. It would’ve missed even if he hadn’t moved, though he ignored that.

The god halted, out of breath, and he smiled. It was genuine, too. No anger or anything fueling it. “You…” He panted slightly in between his words. “You still got that aim.”

Error freezed, for once hoping the voice would speak again. Forunately (Or maybe unfortunately in this scenario) it had gone silent.

Reaper continued. “I see him in you, you know.” He dispelled the scythe. “You haven’t changed that much.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Error questioned, though it came out more as a statement, and he kept looking between Reaper and the ground.

“You really don’t remember.” The god sighed, crossing his arms in a strange sense of defeat. “I guess I hoped that you still knew me.”

Error remained quiet, processing what the god was saying, very slowly, at that.

“Well, nothing I can do about that.” There was a clear twang of sadness in his voice, though he tried to hide it. He sighed, still trying to keep his smile genuine. “…I still love you. Even if you don’t remember me. I will always love you. I need you to know that. Even if you’re not the same person anymore, I still love you. You…” The god gave a laugh, though pain was evident in it. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, Gods this is so cheesy, but you changed my life for the better, Geno. Everyone always assumes no one could ever love Death, but you find a way to do that. I don’t know what you ever see, or saw, in me, but you did. You gave me him.” Reaper wiped at his sockets, as they were both tearing up. “I love you, Geno.”

Error recognised that name. Where did he know that name from? It was there, somewhere, placed in the back of his mind. Though the placement escaped him.

He went to speak, to answer, to say anything in answer to that, though he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk, nor move. He knew what was about to happen. So he let it.

ERROR signals filled his vision, and he watched as the world fell dark. When he opened his eyes again, however, the usual blue reboot screen didn’t appear. Instead, he fell front first into a new void.

He hadn’t seen this one before, in his travels. He didn’t even know where he was.  He should’ve been rebooting by now.

‘Probably shoulda warned you about the drop.’ Error knew that voice. ‘Sorry.’

“Where the hell is this place? Who are you?” The glitch muttered out, his voice changing in pitch more than he would’ve liked it to.

‘Unimportant.’ The voice replied. ‘If ya think about it too much it hurts your head.’

“Ok… but who are you and why are you always around? ”

The voice didn’t answer the first question, only laughing softly before coming to stand infront of Error.

‘I guess the easiest way to say it is… I’m you…?’

Error wished he could just reboot.

Reaper reappeared in his own realm after that, deciding that what was done was done. He’d done what he needed to.

Everything slowly started to turn back to normal. The gods went about their business, and rumours still flew. All still fell back to Death in the end, no matter how long passed.

‘What happened to Death’s lover?’ They’d ask.

Of course, he’d never provide them with an answer.

The scarf remained with him, that was something he’d never throw away. Sure, those times passed, years went by and Goth grew up with only a father to watch him.

But Goth was a sole reminder of everything.

The kid had inherited many traits from his mother, including Geno’s signature scowl, which Reaper found amusing. He was training to become a reaper like his father in the moment. When Goth finally gained the courage to ask about his other parent, Reaper didn’t hesitate to tell him the truth.

Years continued to pass, and the young reaper-in-training met someone. The teen met someone he really loved, and Reaper was proud of the boy.

Through everything, no matter what happened, Geno shone through in Goth. So when Reaper had to be the one to walk his son down the aisle to his fiance, he found himself in tears.

Goth left, leaving the two reaper’s with an empty house. It was back to normal, how it had been many years ago.

Though now they had the memories.

Everything that had happened, the good, the not-so-good, everything. The pair remembered.

Reaper still kept an eye on Error, there was something about him that still intrigued the god. Since his strange outburst, the glitch was seeming to warm up to him, even confiding in him about a certain annoying voice (Though he sounded extrememly frustrated when he did, so maybe said annoying voice was forcing him).

When centuries passed, the knowledge of all events in the past, the question re-arose.

‘Who could ever love someone like Death?’

And Reaper wasn’t afraid to admit that a certain grumpy skeleton could.

And as the god held that same crimson fabric, watching as Undyne and Alphys shared a happy relationship, he felt himself smile.

Because Reaper would always love his little glitch.

Always.