Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(who are you running from?)

Frisk took a long, belly-warming sip of hot chocolate as their eyes scanned the front page of that morning’s newspaper. Being the ambassador for monsterkind, Frisk was religious in keeping up with the news. It had been just shy of a year since the barrier had been broken and monsters had nervously but excitedly left the underground to live under the sun once more after a millennium of captivity and the merger with humankind was still very much a work in progress. 

In the beginning, there had been many incidents as humans learned to live side by side with entities that had before only existed in bedtime stories. Of course, humankind was entirely unprepared for a sudden population boom due to a few thousand monsters flooding down from the summit of Mt. Ebott and many met their excited charge with fear and hostility. It had been a stroke of surprising forethought from Asgore that kept the situation from escalating into a full on crisis. The large king had predicted encountering conflict and already had prepared a plan for how to reintroduce monsterkind to the aboveground, starting with reining in his overeager subjects and camping out on top of the mountain until negotiations could commence. From there, it was just a matter of politics, Toriel taking over and smoothly directing discussions until a decision that benefitted all parties was reached. Frisk did everything they could to paint an unthreatening picture of the underground for the local authorities and indeed their word went a long way in expediting the process.

Now, eleven months later, monsters had mostly finished integrating with humans and the issue of the moment was peacekeeping and making sure monsters weren’t being exploited in the workplace. Every few days some kerfuffle popped up in the news that Frisk or a boss monster had to go and handle. It was slow progress but everyone was optimistic. Barring a few bigger disputes, most of the issues were minor and resolved fairly quickly and Frisk was certain that any remaining hostilities would settle down with time.

Until then, Frisk was content in their work as an ambassador. Their monster friends were very protective of them and someone would always find an excuse to tag along on their peacekeeping missions; Undyne, when the perceived level of danger was on the higher end, Papyrus for minor conflicts, usually involving misunderstandings, and Toriel when meeting with authority figures—politicians, governors, ambassadors, and the like. Sans would come along too upon occasion, though there was no real rhyme or reason to when he would decide to accompany them. Often, Frisk would be expecting someone else and that’s when Sans would appear instead, offering a shrug and a vague excuse and then carrying on as if he’d been the one meant to go from the start.

Chaperoning from Sans was rare, though, and that’s why when Frisk had finished their hot chocolate and pancakes and stepped outside to begin their routine trek to school, they were surprised to find Sans waiting for them just outside the front door. They looked up at him questioningly. Somehow, despite having grown some in the past eleven months, Sans remained just slightly taller than Frisk. Perhaps they hadn’t grown as much as they thought they had, the now thirteen-year-old human thought dimly.

“hey, kid,” the short skeleton greeted, relaxed as usual with his hands in his pockets and winter jacket for once zipped up to his neck. It had been a particularly chilly December. Did skeletons feel cold? Frisk didn’t know.

Frisk continued to squint up at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell them what the occasion was. There hadn’t been anything in the paper that morning and Toriel hadn’t mentioned anything to them during breakfast. Sans chuckled at their apparent confusion. “no occasion,” he said, seemingly reading their mind. “is it so strange for a guy to want to spend time with his small human pal?”

Frisk gave the skeleton a skeptical look. They both knew that Sans wasn’t a morning person and wouldn’t venture out of his and Papyrus’ house at such an early hour for no good reason.

Sans chuckled again and closed one eye socket. And was it just Frisk, or did his perpetual skeleton grin seem just slightly more sinister than normal? “you got me. there’s been an incident, kiddo. i’m here to make sure you don’t encounter any problems on your way to school.”

Frisk worried their brow and followed him as he began to walk, crunching through the fresh layer of snow. It occurred to them that he had changed out his usual slippers for snow boots.

“happened last night,” Sans continued, slowing down enough for Frisk to catch up and walk beside him. “you know balting, that small town at the base of the mountain that raised a huge stink about monsters being allowed to leave the underground. the one famous for buttercups…”

Frisk nodded. How could they forget? It was the town that had stoned Asriel to death. The town they had come from. Balting had made no secret of the fact that they distrusted monsterkind and still believed Asriel responsible for…their death. The citizens of Balting had been very adamant in their opposition of the merger, calling the monsters dirty child killers and warning other towns and cities that their children would be gobbled up by the horrid beasts of the mountain. Since then, they had done everything in their power to prove that monsters were dangerous and foul and should be locked back up where they couldn’t hurt anyone. They were the biggest opposition to peace and a general nuisance to everyone who was fighting for change.

“well, apparently one supposedly murdered child wasn’t grounds enough to win people over to their stance, so they did a little digging. figuratively, of course. they weren’t ballsy enough to venture into the underground as things stood up until last night, though now it could very well come to that. you see, they were snooping around in police records and stumbled upon the files for several missing children. missing children who were previously not missing until they decided to take a hike up mt. ebott.”

Frisk stumbled as Sans’ news caused them to forget where they were walking and stub the toe of their boot on the curb of a sidewalk buried in snow. They thought they would fall into a clumsy pile of Frisk like usual, but Sans surprised them for the second time that morning by throwing out an arm to steady them. Frisk noted distractedly how thick and cushy Sans’ jacket was—they could hardly tell that the appendage that lay within was merely bones.

“it hasn’t hit the news yet,” Sans continued as though Frisk hadn’t just nearly face-planted, “but that doesn’t mean word hasn’t gotten out already. if the humans find out what happened to those children…well, it won’t look good for us, will it?”

Frisk shook their head in agreement. Truly, this was bad. Very bad. All of their hard work these past months could be for nothing if the humans discovered that monsters were responsible for the deaths of seven human children. Frisk quietly fretted as they tried to figure out how to go about handling the situation should it come to worst.

Sans saw them working themselves into a panic and put a gloved hand on their head in reassurance. “hey, buddy, don’t worry too much. let us do the worrying this time. we have to pay for our crimes just the same as anybody else. it's more important to us that you don’t suffer any of the fallout from this, whatever comes of it.”

Frisk shook their head and tugged on Sans’ sleeve to get him to look at them. He met Frisk’s eyes with his lightly glowing white pupils and Frisk cracked their own eyes open just slightly to gaze up into them determinedly. “Not alone, Sans,” they said softly, as they said all things when they chose to use their voice.

Sans’ expression softened in that subtle way that somehow never interrupted his perpetual skeleton grin and he ruffled Frisk’s hair fondly. “heh. ‘course, kid.”

They walked in silence after that and despite Sans’ reassurance, Frisk couldn’t keep from stewing over the impending disaster that would come of the humans discovering of the fates of the children who fell into the underground. Humans in groups were not prone to forgiveness and they were immensely hypocritical to boot. They would learn that half a dozen human children had met their ends at the hands of monsters and they would retaliate twenty-fold. That’s just how they were. It didn’t matter that more monsters than that had already been dusted for various reasons at the hands of humans since their arrival on the surface.

Frisk wished they could go to Balting and scream at the people who had made it their life goal to ruin any chance of harmony between humans and monsters; scream long and hard at the injustice, the selfishness, the horribleness of it all. It wasn’t fair. Monsters had every right to live under the sun that humans did. They were no more or less violent a species. On the contrary, they were filled with so much love, so much overflowing compassion; they didn’t deserve to be treated like dangerous beasts. No, in the privacy of their own mind, Frisk believed the real beasts were the surface dwellers. The hideous, terrible, people who hurt and scorned and hated; the ones who drove Frisk to climb Mt. Ebott that day just shy of a year prior.

Frisk’s classmates hardly spared them a glance as they arrived at the local junior high school and Frisk ascertained from that that it was likely nobody knew yet about the newest brand of anti-monster hell Balting was raising. Sans left them at the entrance with a farewell head pat and an invitation to join him and Papyrus for dinner that evening. Apparently Papyrus was wanting to try out a new recipe on them.

“rest assured, it’s still spaghetti,” he said as he turned to go. “be good today, squirt. or, y’know, don’t.” He shrugged with a grin and then he was gone. 

 Frisk had an enormously average day that day. They bumbled passably through science and math, did excellently as usual in history and writing, and then failed spectacularly at public speaking—just like every week—before finishing out the day nice and smooth with art. Frisk had always been a fairly good student. They’d never been very social, but that suited them just fine. They were quiet and other students left them alone. In the past, before Frisk had fallen into the underground, school had been a reprieve. A safe place. They used to wish they could stay at school forever and never go home. It had been something of a calming fantasy back then, back before it had all become too much. Before Mt. Ebott.

Now, Frisk had a warm, loving home and friends to return to. They no longer longed for a never ending school day. They hoped they could stay as they were now forever.

As promised, Frisk visited the skeleton brothers for dinner that night. It soon became apparent that Undyne would be joining them as well, as it was the tall fish woman who threw open the door to Sans and Papyrus’ house with a huge grin and exclaimed, “Hey, buddy! Glad you could make it!”

Before Frisk could say anything, Undyne had grabbed them by the head and hauled them inside. She proceeded to dump them on the couch in front of a toasty hearth where the TV used to be—Frisk didn’t question the change—before bounding off to the kitchen where Frisk could see the tail of a red scarf bustling about. Papyrus was busy with his pasta, no doubt. The thirteen-year-old wondered if it would be edible. Papyrus’ cooking had improved somewhat, but Frisk still made a habit of carrying some snacks in their bag just in case.

As it turned out, dinner was not entirely unpalatable. If you didn’t mind crunchy pasta, that was. The sauce was a bit crunchy too, actually, but Frisk smiled and thanked Papyrus for the meal and the tall skeleton beamed and looked proud enough to cook spaghetti for every meal for the next four months. Frisk shot Sans a look of sympathy—he would be the one most afflicted by his brother’s probable four-month-long spaghetti bender, after all—and he caught their eye and shrugged.

After dinner, Papyrus busted out a board game and the four of them sat on the floor in front of the hearth and enjoyed the cozy heat from the flames as they played. Frisk was snuggled up tightly in a large blanket so that only their head peeked out, courtesy of Undyne, so Sans helped them out by moving their piece and drawing cards for them. It was a warm, relaxing evening among friends and Frisk basked in it. Who could have predicted that their life would change so much in just a few short months? Who would have known that living could be so wonderful?

“you look like you’ve got something on your mind, kid,” Sans said softly as Undyne took her turn. It was getting late and Frisk was having trouble focusing on the game. The fire was toasty and their eyelids were drooping.

Frisk shook their head and shuffled to the side to bump shoulders with the behoodied skeleton. Sans patted their head and looked down at them with his usual laid back grin. “not gonna spill, huh?”

Frisk yawned and dully noted that Sans was still wearing his gloves. Come to think of it, they could only think of a few times they’d seen Sans without them. They wondered if his hands were cool and smooth like Papyrus’. Or maybe they were rough and chipped and that’s why he kept them hidden. Perhaps one day they would ask. But not today. Frisk was too warm and sleepy to pay much mind to Sans and his hands right now.

They must’ve drifted off, because the next thing they knew, they were cozily tucked in on the couch and the room was dark and quiet.

Frisk sat up and blearily rubbed their eyes, wondering what time it was. There was no clock downstairs, so they slipped off the couch and silently padded up the stairs to Papyrus’ room. The tall skeleton was soundly snoozing, still as death, in his racecar bed. His eye sockets were closed, but his grin was as large and cheerful as ever. Frisk thought he was probably having a very nice dream. The teenager quietly laid a fond hand on the skeleton’s cranium and smiled down at him, wishing him nothing but sweet dreams for all of his days.

The alarm clock by Papyrus’ bed read 2:07 am. That meant Frisk still had nearly five hours before they would have to get up for school. They didn’t have an alarm clock of their own downstairs, but Papyrus was an early riser and would take care to wake them up on time as he always did whenever they stayed over.

Frisk stepped back out into the hall, closing Papyrus’ door softly behind them. Now that their mission was accomplished, the logical thing would be to go back downstairs and go back to sleep, but curiosity had them padding further down the hall to Sans’ room instead. They wondered if the shorter skeleton had locked his door, and if so, if the key he'd given Frisk back in the underground still worked in this aboveground version of their house.

They tried the knob and to their surprise it turned and the door opened without any resistance. Curiosity mounting, Frisk popped their head into the room. They’d never visited Sans’ room in the aboveground before. From what they could see in the dark, it appeared about the same as his old room.

Quiet as a mouse, Frisk stepped inside and walked over to the far corner where Sans’ bed was situated against the wall. They half expected to be pranked on the way, but the room remained still and silent. On the bed, Sans lay on his side facing the wall. His covers and sheets were for once in their proper places and not wadded up in a wrinkly ball. Frisk could hear him breathing softly and make out his chest rising and falling gently beneath the covers.

Just as they had with Papyrus, Frisk reached down and laid their hand on Sans’ shoulder. As expected, it was boney—he was a skeleton, after all—but Frisk could feel heat radiating from beneath the thick cloth of his nightshirt. He bleeds, the small voice that occasionally spoke inside of Frisk’s head reminded them. You like his blood. It makes you happy. Frisk stiffened and shook their head to dispel the voice. The owner of that voice wasn’t really there anymore, after all. Just remnants. Bits and pieces that hadn’t quite faded yet.

*You feel your sins crawling on your back.

Suddenly, the darkness in the room was thicker and felt more ominous. Frisk shuddered and tried to look around the bedroom but they could no longer see anything. It felt like the walls were closing in; like they would be swallowed up. Their heartrate increased and they began to breathe faster. They couldn’t feel Sans’ shoulder under their hand anymore.

Frisk was on the edge of a panic attack when they heard the sound of a switch being flipped and all at once the room was flooded with light.

Sans was no longer in his bed. Instead, he was standing by the door, his hand on the light switch. He looked at them curiously. 

“if your goal was to scare me out of my skin, it’s only fair I remind you that skeletons don’t generally have any,” he remarked. His head was cocked to the side and though his grin was the same as ever, there was something different in his tone. Something Frisk couldn’t identify. He too seemed to be breathing more heavily, though the thirteen-year-old couldn't think of any reason why he would be when he was the one that scared them.

Sans chuckled at their lack of reaction and turned to the door. “c’mon, kiddo, let’s get you back to bed.”

Frisk nodded and followed the skeleton out of the room and back down the stairs. While they made themself comfortable on the couch, Sans grabbed them a glass of water from the kitchen.

“no more late night wanderings, kiddo,” he said as he handed over the glass. “you need your rest.”

Frisk took the water and squinted up at the skeleton meaningfully.

Sans ruffled their hair, as he often did. “yeah, me too. i'll see you in the morning, buddy. tell you what, i’ll even walk you to school again. sound good?”

Frisk smiled and nodded. When Sans left, they rolled onto their side and fell asleep in no time at all.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(and where will you go?)

The next morning, Frisk was woken as expected by Papyrus and sat down to a nutritious breakfast of last night’s leftover spaghetti. Somehow, it was still crunchy despite being in the fridge overnight. Frisk privately thought this feature was potentially marketable, but they held their tongue for the sakes of taste buds everywhere. After taking a quick shower and changing into some spare clothes that the skeleton brothers kept around for them in the event of a surprise sleepover such as last night’s, Frisk and Sans set off for school. 

The morning was an unexpectedly nice one. Frisk recalled the forecast predicting more snow in the A.M. but the sky was clear and the sun was warm on their backs as they crunched through day-old snowfall on their way to the junior high school. It wasn’t until a lady pushing a stroller gave their companion a guarded look and promptly about-faced to walk in the opposite direction that Frisk remembered that they hadn’t checked the paper that morning.

“welp, i’d wager the cat’s out of the bag,” Sans remarked, looking off after the woman.

Frisk sucked in a breath and grabbed Sans’ hand protectively. They refused to let anyone think he was a danger to children. After all, weren’t they living proof that monsters meant humans no harm? They had traversed the whole of the underground and come out better for it. And sure, they’d died a few times, but that didn’t… that wasn’t…

Frisk’s head drooped as realization hit them like a ton of bricks. The fact of the matter was that many of the monsters had meant harm. They weren’t bad people—Frisk knew that better than anyone—but they had taken human lives. If there had to be one golden rule in the human world, it’s that violence always begets more violence, and that meant the monsters would have to be punished for the lives they’d snuffed out. Even though it was unfair; even though monsters had suffered so much worse at the hands of humans throughout history; the humans would make sure they paid.

“frisk, listen,” Sans said, and Frisk knew he was about to say something serious by the rare usage of their name. “i told you yesterday, we’ll take care of it. tori’s a good diplomat. she’ll argue a strong case for old fluffybuns. and there are plenty of people who don’t want to see this peace we’ve all worked so hard for get torn apart.” 

Frisk just tightened their grip on his hand. They were nearing the school now and students were stopping to stare at them. Frisk could see the mistrust in their expressions. As they got closer, they could hear the students muttering to each other and pointing.

“Is that one of them?” a girl who looked to be in the grade above Frisk was saying to her friends beneath a tree a few meters away. She was looking right at Sans.

“Holy shit, is that a skeleton? Dude, I think that’s a skeleton!” Off to Frisk’s right, a boy from their own grade was tugging on his buddy’s shoulder to get him to look over at the pair.

“Should someone call a teacher?” one of the girls under the tree said, looking apprehensive. “Like, didn’t they just find out the monsters have been eating children?” 

Sans said nothing. He just kept walking as though he couldn’t hear the kids gossiping all around them. Frisk couldn’t tell if his lack of reaction was due to his extraordinary poker face or if the comments really just didn’t bother him. When they got to the gate, he stopped and turned to Frisk. “be good today, kiddo,” he said simply and gave them a pat on the head. The gesture was reassuring in its normalcy. “you have your phone, right? call if you need me.” 

Frisk nodded and reluctantly released his hand. They stood at the gate and watched him walk away until he was out of sight before sighing forlornly and going inside. They prayed with everything they had that everything would turn out okay.

Things got worse.

That afternoon, Frisk walked through the door to the home they shared with Toriel just in time to catch a live interview with the mayor of Balting that was apparently being aired across every major news network.

“It’s what we’ve been saying all along,” the balding man was saying as Frisk took a seat on the couch next to their adoptive mother. “The monsters are dangerous! We already have proof they murdered one child. What do you think are the chances that the seven who are still missing were spared? They have families who are still waiting, still hoping for their return. They come to me every day asking about their missing sons and daughters but the monsters have all moved out of those cursed caves and so far only one child has turned up. Well, I’m tired of waiting and wishing! I say we organize a team and go down there to find them ourselves.”

The interview continued in that same vein, the host posing questions about the missing children and Balting’s mayor vehemently spewing mistrust toward monsterkind and calling for a search of the underground. Frisk turned to Toriel questioningly. “There were only six other children. Besides me and…” Frisk trailed off. They still couldn't bring themself to speak the first child’s name. A part of them feared that saying their name would call them back.

Toriel also looked confused. “Yes, my child. I am quite sure there were only six others,” she confirmed. She looked uneasy. Her hands were folded uncertainly in her lap and her eyebrows were furrowed.

That night, Frisk slept poorly. Their mind couldn’t rest with the threat of the humans sending a search party underground hanging over them. It was only a matter of time until the authorities found out what had become of the missing children. There were still seven child sized coffins lying in the castle’s dungeon, after all. They were empty, of course, but it would still be enough to raise questions. More than that, if asked directly, Frisk knew that Asgore would be unable to lie. It simply wasn’t his nature to be dishonest.

The rest of the week passed uneasily. Frisk saw fewer monsters on the streets and the news stations continued to broadcast updates on the case. So far, Toriel had been able to avoid making a definite statement about the fates of the children, but she was on thin ice and it was apparent. Even Mettaton had put his show on hiatus to avoid questioning.

At school, Frisk had become more popular than ever and not in a good way. They had declined Sans and their other friends’ offers to accompany them to school since the day word got out, but Frisk’s classmates hadn’t forgotten. They bombarded Frisk with questions at every opportunity and it didn’t take long for rumors to start circulating.

So, like, did you see the other kids when you were down there?

Is it true their king thought drinking human blood would let him live forever?

Are you and that skeleton, like, a thing?

Frisk did their best to not let the questions bother them too much, but as the days passed they became more and more creepy and invasive.

Why did only you make it out?

Are you performing favors for them or something?  

Are you and that skeleton fucking?

It got to the point where Frisk began hiding in the bathroom between classes to avoid their questions. At lunch, they got permission to eat in the science room, well away from their peers in the crowded cafeteria. Frisk’s science teacher was sympathetic to their plight and turned away any students who asked after them, but after school was fair game and Frisk hurried home every day promptly as the bell marking the end of their last class rang.

School, which had once been a safe haven, was now a place Frisk dreaded going to every day. They longed for the return of their peaceful anonymity but they knew those days were gone for good now. They’d been labeled; socially banded. They were a hot topic. There was no fading back into obscurity after one became a hot topic.

When Friday afternoon finally came, Frisk couldn’t have been more relieved. When the final bell rang, they hefted their backpack over their shoulders and fled the school grounds faster than Undyne could throw a spear. The walk back to their house was quiet—they’d beaten the majority of the students out of the school and the few that had come out with them were too busy rushing off to their own engagements to pay Frisk much mind. They entered their house quickly and closed the door behind them with a heavy sigh. Every day had followed the same pattern: Frisk would come home, do their homework, eat dinner and watch the news with Toriel, and then go upstairs and attempt—but largely fail—to sleep. Then they would get up the next morning dead tired and repeat. Day after day after day of this vicious pattern had run Frisk ragged. All they wanted now was to sleep the weekend away and forget about their problems.

“hey, buddy. you been shopping? you’ve got some pretty serious bags there.”

Frisk nearly jumped out of their skin. They thought they’d been alone, but there was Sans, leaning against the wall by the entrance to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets watching them with his usual grin. He freed a hand to point to an eye socket demonstratively.

Frisk forced a smile and shook their head, dismissing his concern. Instead, they gave him a questioning look, hoping he would explain why he’d come. Frisk didn’t see any signs of Toriel being home.

The skeleton gestured behind him to the kitchen with his thumb. “tori went out to get ingredients for dinner. i’m watching the pie.” 

Now that he mentioned it, Frisk was just starting to make out the smell of cinnamon from that general direction. They thought it odd that Sans would come over just to watch the oven while Toriel was out, but then, it wouldn’t be Sans if he acted in line with anyone’s expectations.  

“so, how was school?” Sans had yet to take his eyes off them and it seemed to Frisk that he was looking for something, though they hadn’t the foggiest idea what. Every now and then, when Sans stared at them like this, Frisk could imagine a flash of blue and gold in his left eye and a shiver would run up their spine. It was like he was daring them to lie with that stare.

Frisk swallowed their uneasiness and shrugged noncommittally. Aside from the pestering of their peers, school was the same as ever, after all. Sans and the others had enough on their plates right now without worrying about them. Frisk mentally steeled themself and resolved to keep quiet about school.

Luckily, Sans didn’t press them for details. He simply accepted their nonverbal answer and left them to check on the pie. Frisk was relieved and took advantage of his occupation in the kitchen to go put their bag in their room. Maybe Sans would help them with their homework later, they thought, feeling more cheerful. He always was pretty good at science and math.

The rest of the evening passed in peace. Toriel came home and prepared a lovely, snail-free meal of steak and roasted turnips. Sans joined them but declined the food, saying he’d already eaten. Toriel packed some up for him anyway, saying he needed to eat more than just Papyrus’ spaghetti, to which Sans simply shrugged and took the container without complaint.

After dinner, Frisk was able to charm Sans into helping with their homework and by their powers combined the homework was completed in half the time it would’ve taken Frisk to do it on their own.

“you ever think about your future?” Sans asked as Frisk packed up their bag for Monday. “you know, what you wanna do with yourself after school?”

Frisk paused and looked over at him questioningly. Honestly, they hadn’t given it much thought. Adulthood was still a long way off and they didn’t see much point in worrying about it now. They wondered why Sans would ask such a thing.

“i know you’ve still got a lot of time until you’ll need to start thinking about that,” he said, reading their mind as usual, “but it’s not a bad idea to get a bit of a head start. when things get tough, sometimes we need a dream to keep us going. when you can’t see a future for yourself…that’s when you start to lose sight of what’s important. becomes easier to make bad decisions, y’know?”

Frisk cocked their head to the side, regarding their friend with puzzlement. It was always jarring when Sans suddenly became serious like this. He seemed to be doing it more and more often these days. What was most odd to Frisk was that they didn’t think he ever acted like this around any of their other friends. He seemed to reserve this side of himself for them and them alone.

Sans lay back on their bed and crossed his legs. His head rested comfortably on his arms as he stared up at the ceiling. “not that i worry too much about you,” he continued, bouncing his socked foot lazily. “you’ve always been full of determination. you'll do great no matter what you decide to do. me, though…i’ve never had much in the way of determination. i'm pathetic and i give up easily.” He turned his head to look at them and winked. “maybe it’s fate that i met you.”

Frisk frowned. They wanted to tell Sans that they didn’t think he was like that at all. After all, he was the one who’d beaten them down over and over and over. He was the most powerful monster they’d ever faced. He was on a level of his own. Before they could find the words, though, Sans sat up and said, “anyway, i think it’s about time i got home to pap. he should be back from alphys and undyne’s by now.” He hopped off the bed and walked leisurely to the door. “get some rest tonight, kiddo.”

Before Frisk could stop him, he was gone.

On Saturday, an official search party for the missing children was announced.

Fourteen officers from the city had been selected to join seven more from Balting to conduct a sweep of the underground. Frisk watched, full of trepidation, as the news aired a pre-mission interview with the head of the search team.

“Tell me, do you feel apprehensive at all about entering the underground?” the interviewer asked, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “This will be the first time a group will be sent down unguided. Are you concerned about the possibility of encountering resistance from the monsters still living there?”

The head of the search team, a woman in her mid-thirties with bushy blonde hair tied back in a ponytail met the interviewer’s question with a neutral expression. “We’ve already been granted full permission to search freely. The former queen assured us that the monsters below will not attempt to hinder us in any way. I have no reason to doubt her word.”

Frisk turned their gaze from the screen to share a look with their adoptive mother. Toriel had said before that the woman being interviewed, Inspector Margaret Müller, had worked with monsters in the past and was a strong advocate for peace between the two races. Unsurprisingly, the officers from Balting were less than pleased to receive her as their leader.

“I hear you’ve worked closely with monsters during these past eleven months. In your opinion, how likely is it that your team will find the seven missing children alive and well?” the interviewer posed, leaning forward over his knees.

Inspector Müller’s expression didn’t change. “Of course, we’re all hoping for the safe return of the missing children, but we also recognize that if they haven’t turned up already, the likelihood of finding them in perfect health is regrettably not very high. The underground’s climates are harsh and unforgiving; not well suited for human habitation. It’s unlikely that a human child would last very long on their own, and that’s assuming they survived the fall that brought them there in the first place. We also have to consider that the first reported disappearance was over thirty years ago. That would put our Johnny Alpha at forty-two years old now. We need to keep in mind that some of these children aren’t children anymore.”

The interviewer looked genuinely intrigued by this apparently previously unknown bit of information. “I think most of us were under the impression that all the disappearances had happened within the past few years. You’re saying that some of these cases are upwards of thirty years old?”

The inspector nodded seriously. “Yes. The first case was reported back in the 1980s. A twelve-year-old boy being treated as an in-patient at a small clinic in Balting set his room on fire and ran off into the woods at the base of the mountain. He was never found. Fifteen years later, another child from Balting went missing after wandering off during a picnic in those same woods. The report stated the child had been having issues both at home and at school and had possibly run off as a show of rebellion. They were the only other child to be seen again. The third child was from the city; a ten-year-old who had come to Mt. Ebott on a camping trip with her parents. The fourth and fifth were twins on a field trip. The sixth was a thirteen-year-old boy who ran away from home after an argument with his grandfather. The seventh and eighth were siblings who’d been visiting their grandparents in Balting for the summer and didn’t come home one evening after playing near the mountain. Finally, as we all know, the ninth child made it back to the surface safely and is now living with the former queen.”

Now Frisk understood why Toriel hadn’t known about the extra child. He’d gone missing before she had left Asgore to go live in the ruins. From the sounds of it, the poor boy probably hadn’t survived the fall. It saddened Frisk that his remains were likely never found. Perhaps they were even still there when they fell. It wouldn’t surprise them if destroying the body of a long forgotten child had been their first act after landing in the underground.

The interviewer nodded. “Yes, young Frisk has been a huge help in establishing trust between us and the monsters. And speaking of trust, I know this next question is a bit of a touchy subject, but many people are dying to know—what action will be taken if it’s discovered that monsters did in fact have a hand in the disappearance and possible demise of the children?”

Finally, the inspector’s poker face cracked and she frowned. It was a moment before she answered. “If we find evidence of any monster’s knowing involvement in the luring, holding, maiming, or otherwise harming of any of the missing children,” she started, looking grave, “then the monsters responsible will be brought in front of a court of law to be tried for their crimes. If it is discovered that taking human children was part of a grander plot on the part of the collective underground citizenry, the penalty will be much more severe. Personally, I pray it doesn’t come to that.”

The interview ended soon after that sobering statement and Toriel turned off the TV with a click that sounded like a death sentence. “It will be alright,” the large monster-woman assured, turning on the couch to face Frisk. “The humans will see how hard we have been working to promote peace and they will know we mean them no harm. We may be punished a bit, but this will blow over.”

Frisk knew, though, that it wouldn’t be alright. They could see the glimmer of fear in their adoptive mother’s eyes and the way her large hands trembled just slightly. She knew better than anyone what humans could do if provoked. She’d been there, after all, when monsters were first banished to the underground. It was possible they could be banished again. Or worse, they could lose their rights as citizens and be forced to work for the humans. Perhaps they would even be deemed too dangerous to be allowed to live and exterminated like wild animals. Humans rallied through fear were dangerous and unpredictable.

It was the following day, a cold, overcast Sunday, when the knock came.

Toriel had left to deliver some things to her school in preparation for Monday and Frisk was minding the house when a sharp rap sounded from the front door. It was unlike the knocks of any of their friends, so when Frisk answered the door it was with a good helping of wariness. The door opened to reveal a woman and a man dressed too smartly to be selling magazine subscriptions.

The woman saw Frisk and smiled sweetly. “Good afternoon. You must be Frisk.”

Frisk said nothing, just waited for them to state their business.

“My name is Megan Campbell,” the woman held out a badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck, “from child protective services. I came here today to talk to you.” 

Frisk’s stomach dropped. If they’d thought things couldn’t get any worse, the cosmos was proving them wrong. They should’ve anticipated this. 

“Listen, Frisk, I don’t mean to startle you, but I have a few questions that I hope you can answer for me. I promise you’re not in trouble. I just need to verify some things about your living situation. Is that okay?”

Feeling it would cause more trouble to refuse, Frisk pursed their lips and nodded.

“Thank you, sweetie. Now, its going to be important that you to answer me honestly, alright? Can you do that?”

Again, Frisk nodded but they mentally wished this Megan Campbell would just turn around and go home.

“Great, then my first few questions are about your guardian. To start with, how long have you been living together with Ms. Toriel Dreemurr?”

After just a moment’s hesitation, Frisk opened their mouth and said quietly, “Eleven months.”

Megan Campbell nodded and the man next to her scribbled something on a clipboard. “And in that time, have you ever felt threatened by your guardian?”

Frisk hurriedly shook their head. The last thing they wanted was to give this woman any reason to believe that Toriel was unfit to be their parent.

Another scribble from John Doe. “Does your guardian ever touch you, speak to you, or otherwise act in a way you feel is inappropriate?”

Again, Frisk shook their head adamantly. 

Campbell smiled. “Alright, Frisk, the next few questions are about you. Again, please answer honestly. Firstly, how would you rate your current level of stress? Low, moderate, or severe?” 

This time Frisk hesitated. If they answered ‘low’, that would probably look suspicious. There was no way they wouldn’t be stressed given the current climate between monsters and humans. If they told the truth, though, these people could choose to attribute their answer to living with Toriel. Frisk didn’t know what to do. They’d never been very good at expressing themself verbally and the longer they stood there silently the more suspicious any answer they gave would look. Feeling their anxiety rising fast, they forced their jaw to move and managed to utter, “Low.”

They knew they’d made a mistake the moment John Doe exchanged a meaningful look with Campbell before frowning and scribbling something lengthy on his clipboard. Frisk felt a sense of dread settle in their stomach.

Campbell gave Frisk what she must have thought was a kind smile, but all it did was churn Frisk’s gut. “Alright, Frisk, I just have one more question for you. I’m sure you know already that there’s an investigation going on at the moment into the whereabouts of several missing children. Right now, the state has reason to believe that a number of monsters close to you may be involved. For your safety, we’d like to have you moved temporarily into foster care until the situation is resolved. Would you be willing to cooperate with us on this?”

And there it was. They wanted to take Frisk away. Frisk tried to swallow but their throat felt like sandpaper.

“I understand how difficult this must be for you,” Campbell continued when it became apparent that Frisk was too upset to answer. “I’d like the transition to be a smooth and non-disruptive as possible, which is why I came to talk to you today. Rest assured that should the investigation find Ms. Dreemurr innocent, you will be returned promptly to her care.”

Frisk barely heard her. Their head was filled with thoughts about what would happen when the investigation inevitably tied the children’s deaths back to Asgore and then to Toriel by extension. They would never be returned home. They would stay in foster care and watch their friends get hunted down and not be able to do a thing about it. They clenched their fists at their sides. They had to get away. They couldn’t let these people take them away from their family. Already, a plan was forming in their mind.

“Please, come in,” they invited in a small voice, moving aside so that the pair could enter. Startled but clearly pleased, Campbell and her partner followed Frisk inside and allowed themselves to be led to the living room. “I’ll fetch you some tea,” Frisk offered politely and quickly retreated to the kitchen.

Once they were out of sight of the living room, Frisk walked through the kitchen, past the stove and cupboards, to the sink. Instead of preparing water for the kettle, however, they reached over the sink and smoothly unlatched the window behind it. It only took a handful of seconds to climb onto the counter and hoist their small body out the window.

By the time Megan Campbell and John Doe realized they’d been duped, Frisk was already long gone.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(maybe all you needed was a friend)

The small teenager hugged their torso tightly as they were buffeted by the blustery winter wind. It had only taken two seconds of consideration to decide where to go after escaping their house. The walk was not a long one, but every step felt like a mile as they were taken further and further from the first place in seven years they’d been able to call ‘home’. Tears burned behind their eyes and their throat tightened as they pushed on through the chill. They couldn’t go back anymore. The humans had taken their place of belonging from them once again. And soon they would take everyone they loved as well.

When they reached the house they were looking for, instead of walking up to the front door and knocking like they normally would’ve, Frisk went around the back and felt around for the door they knew was hidden there. Fumbling with frozen fingers, they pulled out their key ring and inserted what they hoped was the correct key into the lock. To their relief, the lock clicked and the door swung open. 

The room was slightly different from what Frisk remembered of its counterpart in the underground. Firstly, the unreadable schematic was gone, replaced by several dirty dishes stacked messily on the counter, one of which Frisk recognized as the container Toriel had packed steak and veggies into two nights prior. Secondly, there were now pictures posted on the wall; photos of Frisk and all their friends that had been taken in the months following the monsters’ exodus from the underground. Seeing everyone’s smiling faces staring back at them without a care in the world caused fresh tears to well up and Frisk had to look away.

They felt so hopeless. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly and all Frisk could do was watch it happen. They backed up until their back found the wall and then they slid down it until they were sitting on the cold floor. There, they buried their face in their knees and sobbed quietly. For minutes or tens of minutes, they sat there, unaware and uncaring of time passing. They knew they’d only delayed the inevitable by running. Megan Campbell would certainly come looking here, and when she did, Frisk would be taken away. Not to mention their friends would probably get in even more trouble after their little running stunt. In hindsight, coming here had been a bad decision. Sans and Papyrus were going to be the ones the humans punished if they were found here. Yes, they would leave. They would get out of here and go…somewhere. They didn’t know where yet, but they’d figure it out.

“kid?”

Frisk pulled their head from their knees with a start. Where before there’d been nothing, Sans now stood in front of them. He was looking down at them with concern, his brow slightly furrowed and the light of his pupils a hair dimmer than normal. He must have teleported because they hadn’t heard the door open. 

Frisk didn’t wonder how he’d known to find them here. Sans always knew. They just stood up and took a deep, shuddering breath before throwing themself at him, wrapping their arms around his back and burying their face in his shirt. Sans was clearly startled by the action and he froze up as though gearing to push them away, but in the end he sighed and returned the embrace. It was the first time Frisk had ever hugged Sans. It was a little odd, but it was also warm and comforting. “what’s wrong?” he asked, all traces of humor absent from his diction.

It took a few tries to get their voice to work but eventually Frisk was able to choke out, “They’re trying to take me away from mom.”

Apparently Sans didn’t require an explanation as to who “they” were, because he made a displeased noise and tightened his hold. “tell me what happened,” he instructed calmly. 

Frisk nodded against his chest. “They came to our house; told me mom was being suspected for the disappearance of the other kids. They wanted to put me in foster care. I ran.”

Sans brought a hand up to pat their head. The gesture made Frisk want to cry harder. “then they’ll be coming here soon. we'll need to think of a way to get them off your trail." 

Frisk pulled back and shook their head. “I don’t want you and Papyrus to get in trouble.”

Sans chuckled humorlessly. “we’re already in trouble, kid. i told you before that we didn’t want you to suffer the fallout from this. if you don’t want to leave, then we’re damn well gonna make sure you don’t. that’s all there is to it.”

Frisk wiped their eyes stubbornly. “Sans…” they started to protest, but the stocky skeleton shook his head, quieting them.

“i want to protect this timeline,” he told them staunchly. “remember how i told you i never had much determination? well, that’s changed now. i'm sure this peaceful life all of us have been living together is what was always meant to happen. you, me, tori, undyne, pap—we all bled too much to let this future go to waste.” He grasped their shoulder gently and his eyes softened. “it's time i stopped being an observer and started pulling my weight, and keeping you from ending up miserable in a place you don’t want to be feels like a pretty good place to start.”

Frisk opened and closed their mouth, soundly silenced by their friend’s unexpected speech. When Sans grabbed their hand and pulled them out of the workshop, they didn’t protest. 

Sans led them into the main part of the house and up the stairs to his room. “first, we’ve gotta come up with a plan. i'll ring tori and let her know the situation. I hate tibia downer, kid, but you’re probably not gonna be able to go outside for a while.”

Frisk nodded dully. They looked around the room at the sparse furnishings and recalled how they’d been in this same place just days ago under much different circumstances. Now that they had time to properly take in their surroundings, they realized something was different.

Sans followed the direction of their gaze and made a noise of understanding. “papyrus complained that the trash tornado was too noisy. said he kept hearing barking. can’t imagine why,” he explained with a shrug and a wink.

Frisk managed a small smile, comforted by Sans’ effort to act normal. Sans grinned back and shuffled around in his sweatshirt pocket. Pulling out his phone, he started to dial Toriel’s number but he was cut off by the phone suddenly going off in his hand. Frisk just had time to make out the tune of Andrew Gold’s Spooky Scary Skeletons before Sans hit the receive button.

Before Sans could say anything, they heard Papyrus’ voice blast through the speaker. “SANS! HAVE YOU SEEN FRISK? SOME HUMANS JUST CAME BY LOOKING FOR THEM AND THEY SEEMED IMPORTANT…? I TOLD THEM THAT IF THEY WEREN’T AT HOME THEY WOULD PROBABLY BE WITH YOU. IS FRISK WITH YOU, SANS?” 

Frisk’s heartbeat accelerated as panic filled them. Unaware of the situation, Papyrus had told Megan Campbell and John Doe right where to find them. The two of them could be here any minute and Frisk had no plan. What were they going to do? Hide in Sans’ room and just hope they went away?

Despite Frisk’s rising anxiety, Sans was unmoved. “thanks for the heads up, bro. yeah, frisk is here. we were thinking of having a sleepover, actually—maybe pick up some movies and turn it into a few night long marathon. how ‘bout it?”

“SPLENDID IDEA, SANS! I SHALL STOP BY THE VIDEO RENTAL STORE AND ACQUIRE THE MOVIES. DO YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS?”

“anything is fine. we trust your judgement.”

“OF COURSE! NOBODY IS BETTER AT CHOOSING VIDEOS THAN ME. SEE YOU BOTH LATER!”

Frisk heard a beep signifying the end of the call.

Sans slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to Frisk lazily. “welp, looks like they’ve found us.”

Frisk met his relaxed gaze with alarm. They grasped the end of his sleeve with a worried hand.

Sans chuckled. “it’s okay, kid. you're not going anywhere. i'll handle it. better wait to start settling you in until they’re gone, though. don’t want them getting suspicious.”

As it happened, they didn’t have to wait long. It was only a few minutes later that they heard the doorbell ring. Sans motioned for Frisk to stay in the room while he took his time walking down the stairs. Frisk listened to through Sans’ bedroom door as he opened the front door and greeted their guests with a casual, “sup?”

There was a moment of silence and Frisk imagined Campbell and her partner’s shock at being greeted by their second grinning member of the undead in one day. After a beat, Campbell regained her composure and said, “Good afternoon. You must be the brother or Mr. Papyrus. I’m Megan Campbell and the man here with me is Michael Martino. We’re from the Department of Social Services. We’re looking for Frisk Dreemurr. Is she—pardon me, are they here?”

“frisk? nope, ‘fraid not,” Sans answered easily. 

There was another pause, shorter this time, and then Campbell said, “I was told by your brother that Frisk often visits here. There’s been a situation and we have reason to believe that Frisk may come here. If you see them, we’re requesting that you give us a call immediately.”

“a situation, huh?” Sans said, making himself sound interested. “how ambiguous. so, what did the kid do?”

Campbell, sounding like she’d much rather not be having a conversation with a vertically challenged, perpetually grinning skeleton, explained, “Earlier this afternoon we approached Frisk about a matter of safety. As I’m sure you’re aware, there’s an investigation into the whereabouts of several missing children that is currently ongoing and the state feels that Frisk’s present living situation may not be the most appropriate given their guardian’s status as a suspect in that case. Frisk apparently was not fond of this arrangement and fled.”

There was another pause, shorter this time, then Sans spoke again. “and what about frisk’s guardian? did she have anything to say about your arrangement?”

“She…was not home at the time,” Campbell answered somewhat reluctantly.

“i see,” Sans said mildly. “so, what you’re telling me is that you cornered frisk when they were all alone and told them you would be taking them away from their adoptive mother based on a decision made by people they had never met who think they have a right to control frisk’s life based on unconfirmed suspicions that said guardian may in some way be connected to a several year-old case dug up by some yokels living under a mountain.”

“Technically—” 

“listen, megan,” Sans cut her off, his tone still mild, “have you or the people who made this decision to remove frisk from their home ever given any thought to why frisk might have climbed that mountain in the first place? i’m sure you watched the interview on saturday and i'm also sure you’re a smart person, so I wonder if you can tell me: what would make a child want to disappear?”

“Sir, I don’t think—”

“now, i'm no mind reader, but it seems pretty clear that whatever was lurking on or under that mountain would have to have seemed less terrible than what they were leaving behind, yeah?”

"I—"

“now, we know that frisk climbed mt. ebott voluntarily and we also know that upon resurfacing they expressed no interest in returning to the life they’d left behind. it seems pretty clear, based on this, that they consider monsters preferable over humans.”

“I think—”

“megan, rest assured that i know what you think. now i'm going to tell you what i think. i think you need to reevaluate how much good you’re actually doing by taking frisk away from the mother they love and sending them back into the hands of people we’ve just inferred they have a poor history with. keep in mind that the person who barged in and upset frisk’s life today, the person who caused them stress and made them feel like their only option was to run away from home was not toriel, it was you.”

“Sir, I understand that our system of dealing with the safety of minors is probably foreign to you, but I assure you that the happiness and security of the child is our first concern and—”

“i think you misunderstood me,” Sans cut her off again, and, as though a switch had been flipped, his tone suddenly darkened, sending a shiver up Frisk’s spine. They knew that tone. “I ‘ m  t e l l i n g  y o u  t o  g e t  l o s t.”

The sound of the door shutting loudly notified Frisk that the conversation was over.

Frisk waited a few moments before leaving Sans’ room to be sure the coast was clear and then they plodded down the stairs to join their friend. He greeted them with his usual grin. “see? taken care of.”

“They’ll be back, won’t they,” Frisk expressed their concern in a resigned fashion, looking past Sans to the door.

“i don’t doubt it,” he agreed, not appearing troubled in the least. “probably even with a shiny search warrant to wave around and make them feel important. guess i'd better polish up my pranks.”

Frisk felt a certain degree of satisfaction at Sans’ surprised noise when they grabbed his skull and planted a sound kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Sans.”

Somehow, despite his ever present grin, Sans still managed to look flustered. “’course, kid,” he said, mussing up their hair fondly. “you know we’re all here for you.”

That evening, Sans explained to Papyrus that Frisk would in fact likely be staying with them until the investigation into the missing children was completed—on the down low, the smaller skeleton emphasized so that his brother wouldn’t flounce off to tell the whole world about it. Papyrus was overjoyed to have Frisk as their house guest and promised his metaphorical lips were sealed. 

True to his word, Papyrus had stopped by the old video rental store in the shopping center near their neighborhood and picked up a whole basketful of DVDs, and the three of them stayed up well into the morning watching silly Halloween themed movies. It didn’t quite take Frisk’s mind off their problems, but it helped that Sans had given Toriel a ring earlier in the evening and gotten her up to speed on the situation. Toriel explained that that she had already been contacted by the Department of Social Services about what had gone down that afternoon and described to Sans how shocked and angry she’d been when they’d told her that not only had they intended to steal Frisk away while she was out, they now had no idea where Frisk even was. She was relieved to hear that Frisk was safe with Sans and Papyrus and that the brothers would watch over them until this whole mess was resolved. Frisk couldn’t help but feel guilty, though, because now everyone was busy worrying about them when they already had enough on their plates what with the investigation into the whereabouts of the missing children being given the green light. It must’ve been around two thirty when exhaustion finally won over and Frisk conked out on the couch. 

That night, Frisk had an odd dream. In it, Sans and Papyrus were talking in hushed voices—probably because that’s what they’d been doing when Frisk had fallen asleep—though they couldn’t make out what the brothers were discussing. As Frisk lay there, drifting, the conversation eventually stopped and at some point Papyrus must have left because Frisk was pretty sure it was just them and Sans. They thought about checking but they didn’t have the energy to open their eyes. It was quiet for a time and Frisk’s brain flittered about between half formed thoughts. Absently, they heard a rustle and then a hand was on their forehead, stroking their bangs gently. At first, they thought the hand belonged to Sans, but they quickly dismissed that notion when their brain registered the warmth and softness of flesh. It brushed through their hair, full of tenderness, and in Frisk’s mind the image of a woman appeared, hazy and not fully formed, but Frisk knew right away who she was.

Mom, they thought drowsily, their heart filling with affection and longing. That face definitely belonged to their mother—their real mother; the one who had passed away when Frisk was still in preschool. It had been a very long time since Frisk had last dreamt of her. They smiled and snuggled deeper into their blankets, letting the feelings of warmth and love wash over them. They didn’t remember anything after that.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(but you're the type who won't ever be happy)

The next day was Monday. It was weird not going to school, but at least Frisk wouldn’t have to deal with unwanted attention from their classmates. They were much happier to wake up late and take their time eating breakfast; even if breakfast was just the usual leftover spaghetti. As they ate, they thought about Toriel and her delicious hot chocolate. Then they thought about their birth mother—the woman they’d dreamt of the previous night. Frisk didn’t have many memories of their mother, as she’d passed away when they were very young, but maybe, somewhere out there, she was still watching over them. Perhaps it was her who had led Frisk to their new family. Frisk could feel her in the gentle way Toriel led them by the hand and in Papyrus’ optimism and Sans’ patience. There seemed to be a little piece of her in all of their friends and maybe that was why Frisk hadn’t dreamt of her lately.

Thinking about their mother caused Frisk to think about the other children who had climbed or fled to or otherwise become lost on Mt. Ebott. They recalled the interview with Inspector Müller and the various circumstances that had brought those children to the mountain. Some appeared to have simply been unlucky, but a few, like Frisk, could very well have gone with the intention of disappearing. Frisk felt especially sad for those kids, knowing what it was like to be pushed until you felt like you had no more options left.

The child that Frisk was most curious about was the first one. The one before them. The one nobody had known about, who’d disappeared quietly and left no mark; no proof at all that he’d ever existed. Frisk thought that was the saddest thing of all. They wanted to go back and find him; to put him to rest properly.

The idea took root as Frisk went about their morning routine until finally, just before noon, they approached Sans.

“I want to go back,” they told him decisively, fisting their hand in the sleeve of his jacket.

Sans cocked his head curiously. “back where, kid?” 

“To the underground.”

Sans stared at them oddly. “you know it’s pretty dangerous down there right now, right? you’d be in a lot of trouble if the search team found you.”

Frisk nodded. “I know. I don’t need to go far. Just to the entrance to the ruins.”

Sans was silent for a moment and Frisk wondered if he was going to refuse, but then he said, “alright. i think i know a shortcut.”

Frisk smiled at him in thanks and he just shrugged helplessly and took their hand. “ready?”

They nodded. Sans squeezed their hand and suddenly they were no longer in the living room of his and Papyrus’ house but back in the underground, standing in a patch of buttercups with sunlight streaming down from the hole in the cavern ceiling far above.

Frisk took a deep breath, feeling the latent magic in the air. It filled them with a sense of peace. Despite everything, a part of them was glad to be back.

Their serenity was broken, however, when beside them Sans suddenly doubled over, clutching his chest. Startled, Frisk hurriedly braced their hands against his shoulders to keep him from pitching forward. “Sans?” they questioned worriedly. 

Sans grunted and winced but stayed upright. “sorry, kid. i'll be fine in a minute,” he assured them. “that jump took a lot out of me.”

Frisk nodded but continued to regard their friend with worry. They had never seen Sans have a negative reaction from using a shortcut before. Soon enough, though, Sans’ breathing returned to normal and he straightened, good as new.

He winked at them. “see?”

Frisk nodded again, though they were still slightly concerned. Perhaps it was just the distance they’d had to travel. It was a pretty long way between the city and Mt. Ebott. Reluctantly, they turned away from him to inspect the flowers at their feet. 

If anything of the first child still remained, it would be around here somewhere. Luckily, Flowey didn’t appear to be in at the moment.

Nothing looked out of the usual. The golden flowers were just as they’d always been, somehow blooming despite it being entirely the wrong season for them. Frisk squatted down and inserted a hand into the patch to feel for anything hidden beneath the blooms. They were careful to mind the delicate petals as they sifted around in the soil. When all they felt was earth, they moved to a new location and tried again. And again. And again. 

Sans watched them with interest, standing off to the side with his hands in his pockets. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “what are you looking for, buddy?”

Frisk hummed thoughtfully but didn’t look up from their task. “A skeleton, maybe?” 

Sans seemed amused by this. “another one? haven't you got plenty already?”

Frisk laughed lightly and shook their head. “Not a monster. There was a kid who fell here a long time ago. I’m looking for him.”

Sans didn’t say anything for a drawn out moment and Frisk thought he’d lost interest in the conversation until he softly said, “that kid, huh.”

This time, Frisk did look at him. Something in the way he said that kid made Frisk feel like he knew something. Well, it was Sans, they reasoned. If anyone was going to somehow have knowledge that no one else did, it would be him. “Did you know him?” they asked, now wondering if the boy had survived the fall after all and managed to leave the ruins.

Sans shrugged, but the gesture was different than normal. It seemed more conscious. “yeah, i knew him. why the sudden interest?”

Despite Sans’ propensity for knowing everything, Frisk was still surprised by his admission. So, Sans had known all along that there was another child but had never felt the need to mention it. How very Sans. Frisk lowered their eyes and spoke meekly. “I guess I was just curious. Nobody ever told me about him and Mom didn’t know who he was when I asked her. I thought maybe he was all alone and forgotten down here and I wanted to find him.”

Sans sighed and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “ah. well, you’re not completely wrong.” he told them, his eyes traveling to the sunlit buttercup patch. “he was a pretty messed up kid. couldn’t decide if he wanted to live or die. didn’t really have anything he cared about. no will to do good or evil.” He paused and turned his head to off at the entrance to the ruins. “he came here by choice but he was the kind of human who could never be happy no matter where he went. he spent a while trying to find a way back through the barrier but he gave up pretty quickly. he didn’t have the determination you do.”

Frisk listened to Sans’ description and tried to picture the kid in their head; the boy who set fire to a clinic before escaping to the mountain, apparently only to decide that he wanted to go back? They were curious to know his story. “What happened to him?” they questioned. “Why wasn’t his soul with the other kids’?”

Sans turned back around and shrugged again, this time more naturally. “he got recruited by the royal scientist and disappeared. nobody ever saw him again after that.”

Frisk considered this. “So then… he might still be alive?” they asked slowly, working it out in their head. But where could a forty year old human hide that Frisk had never crossed his path? Perhaps the house in Snowdin belonging to the resident who liked listening to Frisk’s knock? But Frisk was sure that voice belonged to a woman. One of the rooms in the MTT resort, maybe? But staying there for any extended period of time would rack up quite a bill. Unless the guy could conjure his own money, that didn't seem like a viable option. Frisk was pretty sure humans didn’t come equipped with that skill. Perhaps he really hadn’t survived after all.

“let me ask you something,” Sans said by way of answer. “if a guy hides himself away for his whole life—is never seen by anyone, never leaves any marks on anyone or makes any lasting changes—can you really call him alive?”

Frisk thought about that. They could see where Sans was coming from but they didn’t quite agree. “A person who hides can still choose to come back,” they answered, looking up at Sans confidently. “Death is forever.”

Sans stared at them wordlessly for a long moment and then threw his head back and laughed. “you beat me, kid,” he said, winking down at them. “you’re his foil in every way, you know that? that guy could’ve really used a friend like you.”

Frisk blinked up at Sans uncomprehendingly.

“don’t worry about him, buddy. there’s no use in chasing after ghosts.” Sans held out his hand to them. “c’mon. if that’s all you came for there’s no point in sticking around. better we get out before those humans find us, eh?” 

Frisk took his hand without protest. Privately, they thought there was a use in finding the boy. He would be one more human who could vouch for the goodness of monsters, not to mention they could show everyone that they’d found one of the missing kids. But Sans was right; there was nothing they could do without more information. Thanks to their conversation, though, Frisk now knew who to go to in order to get that information.

The next day, Frisk asked to pay Alphys and Undyne a visit.

They always enjoyed visiting Alphys and Undyne’s place. It was something of a cavern of wonders, full of cool sciency gizmos, wicked looking weapons, and anime figurines. Usually when Frisk came over Alphys would treat them to a few episodes of whatever cool new anime she’d discovered and then Undyne would steal them for a cooking lesson. Today, though, Frisk was on a mission.

“A-a human child besides the six whose souls we c-collected?” Alphys repeated, scrunching her brow in thought. Frisk took a sip of golden flower tea, courtesy of Undyne, while they waited for Alphys’ response. “I-I’m afraid I don’t know anything about any other children. You s-said he was recruited by the royal scientist?”

Frisk nodded, already feeling their hopes falling. If Alphys didn’t know anything then they were out of their only lead.

“Hmm,” she hummed, tapping a finger on the tabletop. “Well, that d-definitely wasn’t me. It must have been the royal scientist before me. I k-know he’d been experimenting with DETERMINATION too…”

Frisk perked up. “Before you?” they questioned hopefully. 

Alphys hunched her shoulders and fiddled with her cup self-consciously. “T-there was another royal scientist before… I’m afraid I, um, don’t know very much about him. He was a brilliant man, though. They say he built the Core. I-it was pretty difficult to follow an act like that, to be honest.” She seemed to realize she was rambling and let out a nervous chuckle. “A-anyway, it wouldn’t surprise me if he thought to recruit a human for DT extraction. Unfortunately, most of his research data was lost when he…disappeared. If there was a child, he didn’t stick around.”

“Another kid, huh?” Undyne chimed in, taking a seat at the table with them. “Did you try asking Sans?” Turning to Alphys, she asked, “Didn’t he used to work with the guy?”

Frisk looked back and forth between the two of them. Was that true? Sans had never mentioned such a thing to them.

Alphys looked even more uncomfortable at Undyne’s question. “I-I really don’t…I mean, I know Gaster had two assistants…” She cleared her throat. “Sans did occasionally help me out with…um… D-did he really?”

Undyne leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling in thought. “I used to spend a lot of time at the palace back then,” she explained. “It was pretty rare, but every now and then Gaster would come to report his research to Asgore. For a long time, he came alone, but a few years before he vanished he began bringing an assistant with him. It was around that time that I started seeing Sans around.” She crossed her arms and regarded Alphys oddly. “You’re saying Sans would help you out in the lab but he never told you he used to work with the previous royal scientist?”

Alphys looked down into her tea. “N-no?” She squeezed the cup nervously. “Actually, Sans always k-kind of intimidated me, so I never really tried to find out anything about him. N-not that he’s a scary person or anything,” she amended quickly. “It’s just that, you know how he likes to keep to himself… Back then, he was even more like that. I didn’t want to pry too much.”

Frisk frowned. Sans had said the first child was recruited by the royal scientist and nobody ever saw him again after that, but if Sans himself had worked for that same royal scientist, then wouldn’t he have to know what happened to him? Was Sans intentionally hiding the truth from them? It wouldn’t be the first time he had kept them in the dark. Knowing that the boy had volunteered to become an experimental subject made them wonder if perhaps something horrible had happened and Sans was trying to spare them from learning about it. It seemed like the sort of thing Sans would do.

But Frisk wouldn’t give up just yet. If there was any chance at all that the first child could be found and persuaded to argue a positive case for monsters, they would continue to search for him. The hope for a true, lasting peace for monsters and humans filled them with determination.

“In any case, you should talk to him,” Undyne reiterated, smacking a forearm onto the table and leaning over it self-assuredly. “I’m almost positive he’ll know something. That guy always does.”

That night, the news aired an update on the search team’s progress. According to reports, the team had made it most of the way through the Waterfall region and would be moving on to Hotland very soon. So far, no contact had been made with any of the children, however the investigation had discovered several items thought to have belonged to one or more of them, including a toy knife, a ribbon, a glove, and a bandana. Frisk immediately recognized these items as ones they’d thrown away before they discovered they could sell their excess belongings at the Temmie Shop. At the time, Frisk never could have known that leaving those items behind could cause trouble later on, but now they were mentally kicking themself for being so careless.

Finding proof of the children’s visit to the underground immediately sparked a new wave of anti-monster sentiment in the twenty-four hours following the update. Where are our children? angry moms demanded in prime-time television interviews, appealing to their fellow parents. Footage of angry protesters rallying outside the doors of Toriel’s school played the following evening; a growing crowd of incensed citizens crying out for her to close the school. We don’t want child killers teaching our kids! they shouted, pounding their signs on the ground. One bold cameraman managed to get footage of Toriel crying in her office through the window and seeing it caused Frisk’s blood to boil. ‘Don’t pick on my mom!’ they wanted to shout and chase off the mob, but they were helpless, stuck hiding away in Sans and Papyrus’ house.

“WHY, THOSE—THOSE BULLIES!” Papyrus exclaimed, fisting his right hand at the television. “HOW DARE THEY TREAT THE QUEEN SO UNGENTLEMANLY!”

The tall skeleton chewed on the end of his scarf as he glared at the TV angrily. Sans had yet to make a peep and Frisk turned to see what his deal was only to find him gone. They blinked in confusion. He’d been right there a second ago.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd of protesters and Frisk turned back to the TV to see what was happening. There, standing between the mob and the school, was Sans. His grin was still firmly in place but his eye sockets were dark. Protesters were scooting away from him in terror, vocalizing their confusion at the skeleton’s sudden appearance.

“hey, friends,” Sans spoke, his calm voice sending a visible chill through the crowd. “don’t you know it’s rude to bully people?” He took a step forward and the crowd shrank back. “i'm going to have to ask you all to leave now.”

Before anyone could say or do anything, he raised a booted foot and stomped it into the ground and all at once a giant wall of bones shot up from the earth, blocking off the entrance to the school. There was a moment of stunned silence and then protesters were screaming and pushing over each other trying to get away from the crazy skeleton monster who could somehow summon ten-foot-tall bones straight from hell. Instead of looking at the protesters, though, Frisk watched Sans as he followed the mob with his empty gaze for a few seconds before vanishing as suddenly as he’d come. 

When Sans didn’t immediately rejoin them in the living room, Frisk’s first thought was that he’d gone to comfort Toriel. And yet, a nagging suspicion had them jumping from the couch and leaving Papyrus to climb up the stairs up to the brothers’ rooms. Call it intuition, but something told them Sans would be found in his bedroom.

Their intuition was right on the mark. Frisk pushed open the door just in time to see Sans crumple to the floor in a heap. Letting out a small cry of alarm, they ran to him and fell to their knees at his side. Sans was breathing hard and his hands were clutching at his chest tightly enough to wrinkle the fabric of his shirt. A shudder went through his whole body and he groaned before turning his head to look at them out of one eye. “hey…frisk… wow…this is…embarrassing, eh?”

Frisk shook their head and shot him a look that was meant to be full of disapproval but probably just came off as worried.

Sans winced. His brow was covered in sweat and he was curled in on himself. He looked to be in a great deal of pain. “sorry, buddy. you…weren’t supposed to…see this." 

“What’s wrong, Sans,” they demanded gently, placing a hand on his back. They wished they knew how to help him but all they could do was watch as Sans continued to pant and clutch at his chest.

“nothing, kiddo,” he ground out, managing a wink. “this is just my punishment for going a little overboard.”

Frisk didn’t understand. From what they’d seen, Sans hadn’t gone overboard in the slightest.  They knew what he was capable of, and it was much, much more than just summoning few bones.

Sans unclenched his hand and placed it over theirs. When he spoke again his breathing was a bit less labored. “it’s different up here, kid. the underground is full of magic. it’s a bastion of near limitless energy for a guy like me. but here on the surface i’m just dry bones. this body can only store so much, y’know?”

“But you’re a monster. You’re made of magic,” they protested. “Do you mean that monsters will dry up if they continue to live up here?” Their mind summoned up the faces of all their monster friends. Were they all quietly suffering like Sans with Frisk and the other humans none the wiser? If that was the case, then why had they been so eager to return here? Had the surface changed since the era of monster-human cohabitation?

“nah, they’re fine,” he reassured, giving their hand a squeeze. “i'm…a bit of a special case.”

“Are you going to dry up?” they asked in a small voice, gripping his hand as if to anchor him to the world.

Sans hesitated and Frisk tightened their hold, drawing his hand into their lap. They couldn’t imagine a world without Sans. He was a constant; someone they could always rely on to be there; to always pop up at the most unexpected times. And it wasn’t just them; everyone relied on him in one way or another. He was an essential piece in their odd, unconventional, wonderful family.

“maybe someday, kid,” he said finally, giving them a look full of uncharacteristic gentleness. With effort, he managed to push himself up into a sitting position. “but i’m still planning to stick around for a while yet.” He winked and used his free hand to ruffle Frisk’s hair.

Frisk felt a lump rise in their throat and they freed their hand from Sans’ grip so that they could throw their arms around him. Sans started but he allowed the embrace and Frisk pressed their cheek against his and held him tightly, comforted by his solidness and warmth.

Sans returned the embrace and they stayed that way for a few moments. When Frisk finally let go, they looked seriously into Sans’ eyes and said, “I don’t want you to go. Ever.”

Sans chuckled and shook his head, amused despite the earnestness of their declaration. “nothing’s forever, kid. not even me.”

Frisk looked down at their hands and swallowed the lump that still persisted in their throat. “Is that what happened to Gaster?” they asked, recalling their conversation with Alphys and Undyne. “Did he dry up?”

All at once, Sans jerked away as if burned and his eye sockets darkened. “Who told you that name?” he demanded in a tone Frisk had only heard a few times. All his usual goofiness was gone.

Frisk took a hesitant step back, startled by his sudden shift in attitude. Sans only used that tone when he was deadly serious. “A-Alphys said it yesterday,” they told him honestly. “Wasn’t that the name of the last royal scientist? The one before her?”

Sans continued to stare blankly at them for a drawn out moment in which Frisk wondered if they’d unknowingly crossed a line. Then he closed his eyes and sighed and when he opened them again they had returned to normal. “alphys, huh? yeah, i guess she would know.” His voice as well had returned to its usual goofy pitch and Frisk let out a breath of relief.

“You worked with him, right?” they asked boldly, deciding to push their luck in the hope of getting some answers from the ever-mysterious skeleton.

“now, i know alphys didn’t tell you that,” he said, thankfully not showing signs of reverting to his scary persona.

Frisk shook their head.

“undyne, huh?” he surmised, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah, i did. for a bit.” He scratched the back of his skull uncomfortably. “jeez, i never expected to get grilled about him of all people. usually people have more sense than to go asking questions about that old coot.”

Frisk tilted their head and frowned uncomprehendingly. “Why?”

The glow of Sans’ pupils dimmed slightly. “because it’s rude to talk about people who are listening.”

A shiver ran up Frisk’s back and they cast their eyes around the room instinctively. Of course, they found nothing out of the ordinary. Well, for Sans’ room, anyway. They couldn’t tell if Sans was being serious or just messing with them. They hoped it was the latter.

Sans pushed up from the floor and got to his feet. Wiping his hands on his pants, he motioned toward the door with his shoulder. “c’mon, buddy. i'm fine now so let’s go back downstairs. pap is probably missing us.”

He made to exit, but Frisk stopped him with a soft appeal. “Wait.”

Sans turned back around and cocked his head.

Summoning up their determination, Frisk asked, “What happened to the first child? You know, don’t you?”

Sans stood still, his eyes downcast. He didn’t make any motion to leave but he didn’t answer either. Frisk took a step toward him and tried again. “If he’s still alive, he can help us,” they reasoned, trying to get Sans to budge. “If people find out that another child survived and has been living underground all this time, they’d have to realize that the monsters weren’t just stealing kids all those years. He could tell everyone his story and make them see that monsters aren’t bad.”

Despite their plea, Sans maintained his silence, his eyes still firmly fixed on the floor. Frisk continued to wait, determined not to let him leave until he told them what he knew, and finally Sans sighed and looked up at them. “oliver winterlance,” he said simply, sounding suddenly tired, as if the world were on his shoulders. “try researching that name and you’ll see why getting that kid to vouch for monsters would just be a waste of time.”

With that, Sans walked out, leaving Frisk to contemplate his words.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(so run and run)

Frisk waited maybe thirty seconds before their curiosity drove them to leave Sans’ bedroom and pad down the short hallway to Papyrus’ room. They would do exactly as Sans had instructed and commandeer the immense knowledge of the world wide web to find information on the first child.

As expected, Papyrus’ computer was already on. A browser window was sitting open on a social media site. Taking a seat in the comfy swivel chair, Frisk opened a new tab and pulled up a search engine. Oliver Winterlance they typed into the textbox and hit enter. The name ‘Winterlance’ felt strangely familiar to Frisk, though they couldn’t place where they might’ve heard it before.

In just a fraction of a second, thousands of results popped up. The whole first page was filled with headlines about the missing child.

Balting Youth Razes Local Hospital—Flees The Scene

Winterlance Heir Missing After Incident at St. Vincent’s Pediatric Clinic

Accident or Arson? Child Runs from Police After Hospital Goes Up in Flames

Three People Wounded and One in Critical Condition After Hospital Fire

Interest piqued, Frisk clicked on an article. The page reloaded and they were presented with a small blurb about the case followed by a photocopy of a newspaper article from the 80s. They skimmed over it with interest.

Last night on the 4^th of May, sirens blared through the quiet town of Balting as St. Vincent’s Pediatric Clinic went up in flames. Authorities arrived promptly on the scene to find the clinic completely engulfed by the blaze. According to witness reports, five people were able to escape the building; two doctors, a visiting psychologist, a nurse, and the clinic’s lone inpatient. Of the two doctors, one, Dr. Edmond Murray (MD), is currently in critical condition after suffering numerous burns as well as a fractured wrist and multiple cracked ribs. The second doctor, nurse, and psychologist all escaped with minor burns. The patient, twelve-year-old Oliver Winterlance, reportedly fled the scene after injuring an officer who attempted to detain him. Witnesses claim he was “screaming nonsense” as he resisted arrest, and local electrician Henry Gable, who watched the altercation from his car, described Oliver as “thrashing around as if possessed”. While the cause of the fire remains unverified, there is strong evidence to suggest that young Oliver may have started the blaze himself after a disagreement with his care providers turned ugly.

“He’s always been a troubled child,” Oliver’s teacher, Mrs. Mary Montgomery told reporters after she was called to the scene. “Moody, recalcitrant, doesn’t get along well with other kids, exhibits antisocial behavior… It was a joint decision between his parents and the school to have him administered to the clinic for therapy.”

A classmate of Oliver’s, Jonathan (Johnny) Buchannan, provided a similar assessment of his peer. “He’s a psycho,” Johnny told reporters. “Everyone knew he was a hair away from losing the plot. To be honest, nobody is surprised that he finally went apesh*t. It’s why they moved him to that clinic in the first place.”

Oliver’s parents declined to comment, but they have police as well as community volunteers out searching for their son. As of this morning, Oliver Winterlance’s whereabouts remain unknown.

Frisk closed the article and opened another. Then another. They were all largely the same. Oliver Winterlance, local troubled youth, commits arson and runs from the authorities. It was clear from the articles that Oliver had a reputation in Balting. Those who knew him generally described him as withdrawn at best and many people seemed to believe he was full-on crazy. He was apparently an embarrassment to his family; a wealthy noble clan who had roots in Balting dating back hundreds of years. Of the boy himself, Frisk could only find one small black and white photo that had been clipped and then photocopied from a newspaper. The dark haired adolescent stared back at them solemnly from the screen. He looked so young; so small. It was hard for Frisk to picture him assaulting grown men.

But Sans was right. The word of a mentally unstable problem child probably wouldn’t hold much sway no matter how glowing a review he gave of the underground. It sounded like nobody had really even been that troubled by his disappearance. From the statements made by the people close to him, Frisk got the impression they were mostly just relieved not to have to deal with him anymore. Frisk looked at the boy in the picture once more and recalled Sans’ words two days prior. He could’ve really used a friend like you.

Suddenly, Frisk felt very sad for Oliver. They wondered if anyone had even made an effort to get to know him. They had seen first-hand how damaging ostracization could be to a child’s psyche. To think that not a single person had anything positive to say about him after his disappearance. To be so completely rejected at such a young age—it filled Frisk with sorrow. They hoped that wherever he was now, he’d managed to find at least a little bit of happiness.

Mission accomplished, Frisk closed their tab and stood from papyrus’ chair. Now that their only plan had proved to be a bust, they’d need to think of some other way to help their friends. They already knew they were out of time, though. The search team would come back any day now and reveal that they had found no trace of the missing children bar the personal effects that proved they’d been in the underground. From that, the humans would conclude that the children had been eaten or had their remains dumped into the core or some other such nonsense and that would be the end of any chance at peace between the two races. Everything they’d worked for would mean nothing in the end.

Frisk didn’t bother going back downstairs. Instead they curled up on Papyrus’ racecar bed and just lay there until they fell asleep.

The next morning, Frisk’s name appeared on the news. The state had officially declared them missing. Frisk was not surprised by this. They were only surprised that it took the police so long to announce it publicly.

As they’d feared would happen, a team of officers showed up at the skeleton brothers’ door merely an hour after the news broadcast with a search warrant.

If the situation weren’t so dire, Frisk would’ve found it funny the way the brothers dealt with the cops. Papyrus answered the door and politely invited the officers in. He stood by with a friendly smile as the team searched every nook and cranny of the house. Sans had made good on his prank threat and the officers were met with all kinds of mischief, from unexpected dogs to cabinets overflowing with hotcats to Jerry sitting on the toilet holding a newspaper. (Actually, Frisk wasn’t sure Sans had arranged that one.) All the while, Papyrus offered unappreciated commentary on everything the officers inspected, much the way he had when Frisk had first been invited to the brothers’ house.

Sans himself had his hands full teleporting Frisk from room to room as the men searched. He took great delight in keeping them just out of the officers’ sight and he and Frisk watched with amusement as the officers stumbled upon prank after prank. By the time they left, confused and grumpy and thoroughly owned, Sans and Papyrus were in stitches. They high fived as the officers pulled away in their cop cars.

“DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON THE TALL ONE’S FACE WHEN HE OPENED THE OVEN AND IT WAS FULL OF MUSTARD? PRICELESS!” Papyrus laughed loudly, placing his hands on his hips boastfully.

“heh. that was pretty good, bro,” Sans praised. “by the way, how did you convince napstablook to take a nap in the trash?”

Papyrus blinked down at his brother. “I THOUGHT THAT WAS YOU?”

Sans stared back at him and the two of them shared a moment of silence before shrugging and continuing to joke about how they’d played the cops.

Unfortunately, their good mood couldn’t last long in the face of all the negative news that continued to pour in. As funny as it was to prank the authorities, Frisk’s status as “still missing” only continued to add fuel to the fire and now protesters were rallying behind a new slogan of “Save Frisk! Drive the monsters out!”

Around noon, Undyne came to visit. She was dressed from head to foot in her armor and she looked exhausted. She collapsed onto the couch and Papyrus brought her a glass of water which she sucked down gratefully. “I can’t believe how bad it's gotten,” she proclaimed as she slammed her glass down on an end table. “I’ve been out there all morning trying to keep those damn humans from jumping any monster who leaves their house. At this rate it’s only a matter of time until someone gets dusted.” She rested her hands on her knees and leaned over them wearily. “Toriel’s a wreck, too. Asgore is staying over at her place and looking after her for the time being, but the situation’s looking pretty grim. I’ve got Mettaton guarding Alphys while I’m out.”

Papyrus wrung his hands together worriedly. “IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO TO HELP?” he asked, regarding his former mentor earnestly.

Undyne shook her head. “Stay inside. Stay safe. That’s all I want you to do right now. If it comes down to it, we may have to use force to protect our right to be here,” she paused to shoot a pointed look at Sans. “But until then, we’re gonna lie low and continue to hope peace will be enough.”

Frisk didn’t miss the intent behind that look. Undyne expected Sans to help her fight in the event that the situation continued to worsen. Did she know that Sans was weakened on the surface? Frisk had a feeling she didn’t. She probably expected to use Sans as a trump card and Frisk already knew that Sans wouldn’t refuse.

“It won’t come to that,” they spoke up, surprising even themself with their boldness. “If it means keeping everyone safe, I’ll go with them. I won’t let them hurt any of you.” 

Everyone turned to look at them. Papyrus and Undyne wore disbelieving expressions as if they’d said something totally off-the-wall crazy. Sans was the first to speak. “we appreciate the thought, kid, but we’ll pass.

Undyne nodded. “It was thanks to you that we were even able to get to the surface. It would be meaningless to enjoy living up here without you. Not gonna happen. No way.” 

“AS YOUR FRIENDS, WE COULD NEVER ALLOW YOU TO DO THAT,” Papyrus agreed, scowling down at Frisk as if daring them to contradict him.

Frisk looked back and forth between the three of them, anxiety rising. They all wanted them to stay, but to Frisk, everyone’s safety was so much more important than their own happiness. Of course, they didn’t want to leave, either. They’d finally found a family who loved them for who they were; who they’d do anything for. They didn’t want to go back to a life of jumping from foster home to foster home; never belonging—never being enough. But for the sake of the wonderful friends they’d made in the underground, they’d do it. If it meant Sans wouldn’t have to fight, they’d do it. 

As usual, Sans read their mind like words on a page. He stepped forward and took their hand. “listen, frisk. if you tell me honestly right now that you want to go—want to, not feel like you have to—then we won’t stop you. the world is yours, kid. you have the freedom to do anything; be anyone; go anywhere.” He tilted his head and looked down at them with eyes full of tenderness. “i asked you before if you’d given any thought to your future because i wanted you to know that you have one and it’s waiting for you. so if you want to go, that’s fine. but if you want to stay here with us, we’re willing to fight to make that happen for you. it doesn’t matter what you decide to do as long as you do it with determination.”

Frisk stared back at him, speechless. They’d never heard him talk like this before, as though he were the one overflowing with determination.

Beside them, Undyne nodded and Papyrus wiped away a tear. “THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL, SANS.”

Frisk looked at the two of them standing supportively by their side and then back to Sans who still awaited their answer. Perhaps they had been looking at everything all wrong. Battles weren’t won alone. Leaving now would be the same thing as giving up and giving up was something they couldn’t do. Not under any circumstances. They were determined and they would persevere. They felt pressure building behind their eyes and they turned to give each of their friends a watery smile. “I don’t want to go,” they said, wiping their eyes with their sleeve. “I want all of us to be together forever.”

Sans reached out with his free hand and patted their head. “nothing’s forever, kid,” he reminded them, his tone full of fondness. “but i want that, too.”

“We all want that,” Undyne agreed, punching Frisk’s arm lightly.

Papyrus pulled a handkerchief from inside his glove and used it to dab his eyes. “FRIENDSHIP IS SO WONDERFUL,” he said, sniffling emotionally. 

Frisk agreed. They wouldn’t trade these friends for the world. They would figure this out—somehow.

“All I’m saying is this: it’s been nearly a week now and our search team has yet to find any of the children. And I can tell you with confidence that they’re not going to. If any of those kids were still alive, the monsters would’ve brought them out by now. They know what’s at stake. The only reason they haven’t is because they can’t,” Balting’s mayor declared, slamming his hand down on his podium. “We already know the missing children were in the underground. We also know monsters were responsible for the death of Chara Hewley. How many more children are going to have to die before we finally say enough is enough?”

Frisk watched as the old man spoke to a veritable sea of anti-monster protestors. Their numbers had tripled almost overnight after word got out about Frisk’s “disappearance”, and that was just counting the ones who showed up to the mayor’s rally. According to polls published by various news stations, the number of people who wanted monsters gone had grown to a staggering forty-eight to fifty-one percent of respondents, depending on the station. Currently, the mayor was trying to win support for a full-fledged purge of monsters from so-called “human zones”. These zones included the town of Balting as well as the city and all its suburbs. Basically, he wanted to remove monsters from human-inhabited areas entirely. With the amount of support he’d been able to rally, the threat was a very real one.

“We can’t keep allowing their kind to live among us when we know the danger they pose. As a society, we have an obligation to protect our own. These are our cities, and in our cities, we come first.”

The frame froze and minimized, the image of the mayor’s furious visage coming to rest at the side of the anchorwoman and man. “Such a powerful statement from Mayor Winterlance,” the lovely blonde anchorwoman commented, looking straight at the camera. “But we want to know what you think. Should the Monster Removal Act be passed? Visit our website and let us know in our poll…”

Frisk had already stopped listening. Now they knew why the name ‘Winterlance’ had seemed familiar before. It was the name of the mayor who had been fighting them at every turn. Could it be that Mayor Winterlance was related to Oliver Winterlance? Looking at the math, the mayor was certainly the right age to be the kid’s father…or perhaps an uncle.

Suddenly, Frisk felt angry. How could that man talk about “protecting our own” when he’d possibly allowed his own son or nephew to be treated so horribly. It was gross. Frisk wanted to jump through the TV and slug him. 

“your expression says you’re thinking violent thoughts.”

And there was Sans, right on cue. His arms were folded over the top of the couch and his head was resting atop them lazily. He was so close that Frisk wondered how they’d possibly missed him. “that anchorlady give you a nasty look or something?”

Frisk’s cheeks reddened at his proximity and they hurriedly shook their head to mask it.

Sans’ eyes travelled to the man still frozen in the box on the screen and only then did Frisk realize that they’d paused the channel. “I’m guessing you took my advice. i figured you would.” 

“Is that man…related to Oliver?” they asked, wondering how much Sans knew—or would be willing to reveal.

Sans grunted. “far as i know there’s only one winterlance family in balting,” he answered, lifting his head up to rest his cheek on his palm instead. “so, what did you think of the little pyro? still feel like finding him?”

Frisk frowned as they recalled the articles they’d read about the young Oliver Winterlance. To be honest, a part of them did still want to find him. Not to get him to testify for monsters, but just to see what had become of him and maybe hear his side of the story. Everyone had been so quick to point fingers at him and call him crazy, but all Frisk saw was a lonely kid who nobody had taken the time to understand. Maybe he was crazy and maybe he did do things to earn his peers’ contempt, Frisk had no way of knowing without talking to someone who’d known him back them, but had he really been so terrible that not a single person could think of one positive thing to say about him after his disappearance? 

“I found lots of articles. They made me sad,” they replied honestly. “I wish I could talk to him.”

Sans seemed surprised by their answer. He raised his head and let his hand drop back down to join its partner the sofa. “you serious? you know the kid burned down a clinic, right? even injured several people. most folks would be happy to be rid of a child like that.”

Frisk smiled slightly at Sans’ bewilderment. It was rare for them to be the one surprising him. “I know. But weren’t you the one who said that the only reason a child would choose to climb Mt. Ebott is because they believe whatever’s waiting for them there is less terrible than what they’re running from? Wouldn’t that apply to him, too?”

Sans’ eye sockets widened slightly and he was silent for a moment, just looking at them as if they were the most novel thing he’d ever seen, and then he closed them and shook his head. “you know, kid, I noticed you’ve been using your voice more lately. i’m glad. i feel like there’s a lot going on in that head of yours that people need to hear.”

Frisk felt their face flush again and this time they knew Sans could see it. They could tell by the way his eyes grinned, for once matching his mouth. His amusement just caused their flush to deepen. They were just thinking that they liked it when Sans made that expression when the happiness in his eyes faded and he looked away to the left.

“listen, kid. i've got something important i need to tell you,” he announced suddenly in a heavy tone. “tomorrow the bigwigs are gonna vote on that monster removal act. unfortunately for us, it’s going to pass.”

Frisk’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be. Had the anti-monster faction really already gained that much support?

“at that time, monsters will be given an ultimatum: leave or be forcefully removed, but you already know that so i won’t waste your time going into the specifics of what that will entail. what's of more concern to us right now is what’s gonna happen to tori and old king fluffybuns.” At Frisk’s confused look, he explained, “you see, we’ve been keeping an eye on the investigation down below and a few hours ago they found seven suspiciously child-sized coffins in asgore’s basement. as you can imagine, they put two and two together pretty quick.

“we all know asgore can’t lie. he'll confess everything because he’s too good a person to know what’s good for him, and then it won’t matter if we’re in ‘human zones’ or not, we’ll all be hunted down and slaughtered like cattle.”

Frisk’s jaw went slack as their brain processed the things they were hearing. All they could think, though, was that this was too soon. They weren’t ready yet. They’d thought they still had time. Weren’t they going to all put their heads together and figure something out? How were they going to do that if the decision that would determine the fates of all of monsterkind would be made in less than twenty-four hours?

They were snapped out of their head when they felt a gentle pressure on their crown. “frisk, i need you to promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow, you won’t reset.” Sans was now staring at them intently. “if you can promise me that, then i'll make a promise to you that everything will turn out okay. deal?”

Frisk grabbed Sans’ hand and pulled it to their chest. They had a very bad feeling suddenly. Sans was planning something they weren’t going to like. “You hate making promises,” they reminded him, trying to keep the tremble out of their voice.

“yeah,” he agreed. “promises don’t work too well without determination. but this time, i think I’m gonna need it. i don’t know if i’ll be able to do what i have to without your promise.”

Frisk took a shaky breath and hardened their resolve. They had to believe in Sans. He might not have always been the most straightforward with them, but he’d never lied. Frisk didn’t know what his plan was, but they trusted him to keep his word. “Alright. I promise. No resetting.”

“no matter what,” Sans pressed.

“No matter what,” they agreed.

They just hoped they didn’t come to regret that promise.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(until you realize you’re needed)

The next day unfolded just like any other. Papyrus woke first and prepared a scrumptious spaghetti breakfast, then Frisk dragged themself into the kitchen, blearily rubbing their eyes. Sans was last, as usual, but he was always in a good mood when he came down and today was no exception. He’d even cooked up a few new spaghetti puns to harass Papyrus with. Neither brother made any mention of the monster removal act or what would happen when Asgore finally admitted what he had done. They carried on as if they hadn’t a care in the world and Frisk didn’t know if they felt comforted by that or if it was just adding to their anxiety.

The whole morning long, Frisk made a point to stay close to Sans. Without knowing what he was going to do or when he was going to do it, they decided to simply always keep him in their sight. They knew it wouldn’t make much difference in the end since he had the power to escape anytime he wanted by teleporting, but Sans didn’t seem to mind. He even humored them by grabbing their hand when they sat down to watch TV with him. When Frisk gave him a questioning look he lifted their hand and pretended to examine it. “just performing a regulation hand inspection,” he joked. “yours is very hand-some.”

Frisk cracked a smile. “That was weak, Sans.”

Sans shrugged. “it was a hand-me-down.”

They heard a groan from the kitchen and Frisk giggled. Not releasing his hand, they scooted closer so that they could snuggle up against Sans’ side. Together, they vegged out and watched goofy, mindless cartoon shows. Sitting with him like this, Frisk could almost pretend that everything in the world was normal and as it should be. There were no missing children, Frisk was just happily visiting their friends, not hiding from the government; there was no Mayor Winterlance and no threat of monsters being chased out of the city. For a blissful half hour, Frisk cocooned themself in this fantasy. But reality couldn’t be ignored for long, and Frisk’s instincts were telling them they were out of time to play pretend. There was a question that needed to be asked and it wasn’t going to go away just because they ignored it.

They got Sans’ attention by squeezing his hand and he looked down at them inquisitively. “If monsters end up being hunted down, are you going to fight?” they asked dolefully, lifting their head to meet his eyes. “Undyne wants you to, right?”

Sans closed his eyes and exhaled in a resigned sort of fashion. He’d probably been waiting for them to ask. When he opened them again he looked weary. “there’s no future for monsters and humans in battle, kid,” he said gently. “it wouldn’t matter which side won, there’d be no peace. if it comes to war, it’s already over.”

Frisk frowned and worried their lower lip as they considered Sans’ words. “Then what are you going to do?” they queried, tightening their hold on his hand as if they expected him to disappear that very moment.

Sans’ eye sockets narrowed to slits and he scratched his skull. “i guess it’s time i took my own advice,” he answered after a moment, opening one eye halfway to look back down at them.

“Your own advice?”

Sans hummed. “if you have some sort of special power…isn't it your responsibility to do the right thing?" he recited, nudging them gently.

It took Frisk a moment to remember when they’d heard him say that before. The moment was almost lost in the jumble of memories from their various trips through the underground courtesy of them, but they could distantly recall a timeline in which he’d said such a thing to them.

“it’s my turn to follow that advice,” he reiterated. “you helped me realize that there’s still something I can do.”

Frisk’s frown deepened in confusion. “I did? What?”

Sans shifted so that he was facing them and brought their still connected hands up to press the back of theirs to his cheek. “end this peacefully,” he said simply. He surprised Frisk then by leaning forward and touching his forehead to theirs. Frisk’s heart gave a little flutter at his proximity. “hey. you remember our promise, right?”

Frisk stared unsurely into Sans’ eye sockets. This close, they thought they could make out the barest hint of blue in the ghostly light of his pupils. “Yes,” they answered, unable to tear their eyes away.

“you won’t reset?” he pressed.

They swallowed. “I won’t reset.”

Sans made a noise of approval and pulled away. Frisk felt his hand slip out of theirs. “then i guess i'd better get going. still got a few things left to prepare before i swoop in and save the day.” His eye sockets narrowed to slits again. “boy, all this talk of doing things is making me tired. might need a nice long nap after all this is over.”

Frisk shook their head in fond exasperation and then leaned in and wrapped their arms around him. “I love you, Sans,” they said into the collar of his jacket.

Sans started slightly at the unexpected show of affection but then he chuckled and pulled them tightly against him. “love you too, kid.”

A moment later, he withdrew and ruffled their hair. “be good, frisk,” he said easily, the way he would if he were dropping them off at school.

And then he was gone.

That afternoon, Alphys and Undyne joined them to watch the City Council announce the result of the vote on the monster removal act. The announcement would be aired live on every major news network and Frisk knew that every monster, both on the surface and still underground, would be watching. It would be the moment that decided the fate of all of monsterkind.

In just a few minutes, they could very well be at war.

The anchorman and woman tittered excitedly for a few minutes while they waited for word from their news camera in City Hall. Frisk wondered if they were in favor of the act or against it. Maybe they didn’t care one way or the other. Maybe this was all just entertainment to them. Frisk imagined many humans saw the conflict between themselves and monster simply as a passing buzz. After all, what did they care if monsters were chased out of their cities. They’d lived without monsters happily for a millennium. They would probably be relieved to see them go.

Relieved. Just like they were when Frisk left. Just like when Oliver left.

Maybe that’s what drew all those children to Mt. Ebott. It was where the rejected found sanctuary.

The picture on the TV changed to a shot of the inside of the council chamber in City Hall where rows and rows of elderly and middle-aged men and women sat in a semicircle around a podium. Next to the podium, Mayor Winterlance stood wearing an exceedingly smug expression. The look on his face told Frisk everything they needed to know about the decision the council had reached.

As Frisk, Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys looked on, Mayor Winterlance received an off-screen cue and moved to stand behind the podium. He made a show of looking briefly over a handful of papers and then leaned forward to speak into the microphone. It was time.

“As of 3 pm today,” he started, “the governing council has come to a decision regarding the matter of monsters sharing living space with humans.” His face was now carefully neutral, but Frisk could see the glee not quite contained in his eyes. He was inwardly gloating. “The council has voted seventeen to thirteen in favor of the act, determining monsterkind to be unfit to safely live alongside humans. As of 1700 today, Monsters residing in designated “human zones” will hereby be asked to remove themselves within the span of seventy-two hours or they will be removed by force. Failure to comply is henceforth punishable by swift and immediate effective retaliation at the discretion of operating authorities. Following this seventy-two-hour period, under no circumstances may any monster re-enter any designated human zone without express permission from the state.

“Furthermore, in light of recent discoveries made by the underground investigative team, Monster King Asgore and his estranged wife, Queen Toriel, will be held for questioning. If it is later determined that they had a hand in the deaths of the seven yet unaccounted for children, they will face capital punishment.

“Finally, regarding the ninth child, Frisk Dreemurr, the council has agreed that…” The mayor trailed off as his gaze focused on something outside the frame of the camera. His expression shifted to one of indignity. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

A murmur of surprise rose from the rest of the room and whoever was working the camera hurriedly turned the lens to get a shot of the mystery trespasser who was bold enough to interrupt the mayor’s statement. Frisk felt the blood drain from their face. They didn’t need to wait for the camera to refocus to know who it was.

“hey there, mr. mayor,” Sans greeted. His hands were in his pockets and his stance was relaxed. He’d exchanged his winter jacket, pants, and boots for his old blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and slippers. He looked around the chamber and at the silenced councilmen lazily. “nice gig you’ve got here.”

The mayor’s face turned pink with anger. “Excuse me!” he called to the armed policemen guarding the exits. “Could you please take this…person away?”

The officers in question brandished their firearms authoritatively and moved to close in on Sans. Sans just sighed and raised an arm and bones shot from the floor, knocking the officers back. Startled shouts were heard as the men stumbled and looked at the bones in surprise. An order was barked and the officers raised their guns. Frisk almost cried out in fear for their friend but then Sans’ left eye flashed blue and yellow and the guns were ripped from the officers’ hands. They floated harmlessly over to Sans and dropped into a pile at his feet. Terrified and now weaponless, the men backed away from the grinning skeleton.

Sans ignored them, instead focusing on the outraged mayor. “in light of the unfortunate news coming out of this council today, i thought i'd come tell you story, mr. mayor,” he said easily. The microphone had been rearranged and now picked up his voice clearly. “i think it’s one our viewers at home should hear as well.”

“Absolutely not!” the elderly man snarled. “You come uninvited into a human government council room and interrupt our proceedings and you expect anyone to listen to you?” He spun around to face the cameras. “Turn those bloody things off! This is a sham and I won’t have this disrespectful monster’s slander be aired on public television.”

Sans sighed again and closed one eye. “you’re awfully controlling, aren’t you.” He looked away from Mayor Winterlance and turned to face the camera instead. His eye flashed dangerously. “mind keeping those running? it would be a shame if our buddies watching from their couches missed the action.”

His threat must’ve translated because the camera continued to record. Frisk watched Sans with their heart in their throat, waiting anxiously to see what he had planned. It didn’t escape their notice when his hand came up to lightly clutch the front of his shirt just over where a human’s heart would be.

Sans turned back to the mayor. “now then, about that story. it's a pretty good one. i think you’ll find it very relatable.” Mayor Winterlance looked like he wanted to interrupt again but then his right hand glowed blue and clamped over his own mouth, silencing him. Frisk could’ve sworn Sans’ grin widened. “stop me if you’ve heard this one. once upon a time, humans and monsters shared the earth. both races lived together under the sun in peace and harmony.” The mayor’s eyes bulged with fury as he struggled against his own hand but Sans’ magic held fast. “but the humans were a very jealous race. they envied the monsters’ strong magic. led by a family of powerful magicians, war broke out. the humans drove the monsters underground and sealed them behind a magical barrier.

“the underground was a hellish place to live in with extreme climates and few natural resources, but the monsters decided to make the best of their situation. hundreds of years passed and the monsters’ magic, coupled with science, transformed the underground into a place rich in beauty and abundance. the monsters still missed the sun and fresh air, but they were content. at least in the underground they were free of human prejudice and violence.

“then, fifteen years ago, a human child fell into the monsters’ realm. this child was filled with hatred and contempt for both monsters and humans, but the king and queen took pity on them and took them in, caring for them as if they were their own child. this child and the young son of the king and queen became fast friends and were inseparable for the duration of the child’s stay.

“but one day, the child became very ill. knowing they wouldn’t live much longer, they told their dear friend their greatest wish: to see the golden flowers that bloomed in the town where they were born.” Sans tossed a pointed look at the mayor and the small section of the council seats filled by representatives from Balting. “the child passed away soon after, but the young prince wanted to fulfil their friend’s wish, so he took their body through the barrier and carried them down the mountain to their village. however, the people of the town saw the prince carrying the child and misunderstood. thinking that the prince had killed the child, the people of the town lashed out. they struck the prince repeatedly and ran him off. the prince returned to the underground beaten and broken and died in his parents’ arms that very same night.”

Sans paused as uncomfortable murmuring broke out among the council. The mayor’s face had turned purple with rage and he was trying desperately to speak but his hand stayed firmly clamped over his mouth. Frisk listened, captivated, as Sans continued to recount the same story they’d heard eleven months ago from the various monsters they’d met in the underground.

“the king and queen were distraught. they'd lost two children in one day; their own blood son murdered by the same tribe of humans who had locked them up underground. you would think they would be furious at the humans. they had every right to be, after everything they’d done. but they were just sad. they had no room in their hearts for anger or thoughts of revenge.”

Frisk frowned. That wasn’t right. Was Sans changing the story?”

Sans closed his eyes and returned his hands to his pockets. “me, though. i couldn’t forgive so easily.” When his eyes opened again his pupils were gone. “you see, i hate humans—loathe them, actually. i decided that if our king and queen weren’t going to get revenge, i'd do it myself. all i needed were enough human souls to break the barrier and then i'd be free to hunt down humans as i pleased.”

Frisk’s jaw dropped and they stared at the screen in horror. What was Sans doing? Papyrus and Undyne also wore shocked expressions. They were clearly just as surprised as Frisk. Alphys was biting her nails nervously, her eyes fixed on the screen.

“SANS! IS THAT TRUE??” Papyrus cried out, gripping the sides of the TV as if Sans would be able to feel it through the screen.

“Of course not, you tadpole,” Undyne admonished him, though she looked uncertain.

Unaware of his friends’ distress, Sans continued. “all i had to do was wait for more children to fall. it took a while—much longer than i’d hoped—but one by one, i got the souls i needed.” He paused again and his expression became even more sinister. “it was such a wonderful feeling; ending their lives. i wish i could’ve taped their deaths to enjoy over and over again. the mementos were a good consolation prize, though.”

He lifted his left hand and several items popped into existence in the air above him. They hovered for a second before falling to the floor to join the gun pile. Included were four matched pairs that Frisk definitely recognized: an old tutu and a pair of pointe shoes, a cowboy hat and six-shooter, a torn notebook and glasses, and a stained apron and frying pan. All were items that had belonged to the lost children. Horrified gasps issued from the council.

Sans was sweating now. Frisk could see the sheen of moisture on his forehead. One of his hands had traveled from his hoodie pocket back up to his chest. It wasn’t obvious to anyone else, but Frisk could tell he was exerting himself. “toriel tried to save those kids, you know?” he went on, still grinning maliciously. “she tried to get them to stay with her in the ruins where it was safe, but they just wouldn’t listen. humans sure are dumb, huh? and now look at you all, once again trying to punish someone who did nothing wrong. watching you all point fingers like dumb monkeys disgusted me so much that i just couldn’t stay quiet anymore.”

He started to cackle gleefully and Frisk just wanted to scream at him to stop—stop lying and making himself out to be the bad guy. They wanted peace for monsters, but not like this. They didn’t want Sans to martyr himself. There had to be another way. If they’d put their heads together like they’d originally planned, then it wouldn’t have had to come to this.

Sans was still mid laugh when the doors to the council chamber burst open and soldiers dressed in full riot gear swarmed in, the noses of their guns all pointed right at the psychotic skeleton.

“Sans!” Frisk cried out in warning even though there was no way for him to hear them. All they could do was watch as the soldiers formed a circle around their friend. All around them, councilmen were now fleeing their seats, trying to get the hell out of dodge. Frisk stared at Sans, trapped in the middle of all those guns, and could only think that this was it. This would be the last time they ever saw their friend. This would be their final memory of him. It was then that Sans stopped laughing and turned to face the camera again. He almost seemed to be staring right at them. He winked.

Frisk wasn’t sure who pulled the trigger first, but suddenly the screen was full of gunfire. Their friend was being gunned down on live television while his brother and all his friends watched. Frisk screamed and covered their eyes, not wanting to see Sans die again. Never, ever again.

Through their screaming they could hear Papyrus cry out and then Undyne was yelling and Alphys began to sob. And then, overtop all that, they heard a monstrous roar come from the TV. Frisk cracked their eyes open to see the ring of soldiers unbroken, but in the middle of them wasn’t Sans. In their friend’s place was a true monster. It was a towering, skeletal beast. Its eyes glowed with blue fire and its mouth was filled with terrible, dagger-like teeth. It roared again and swiped an enormous tail around the council chamber, toppling the soldiers like bowling pins, then it opened its mouth and a bright beam of blue light fired on the soldiers, its brightness obscuring the whole picture. Frisk heard screaming and more gunfire and then the picture went black as the camera cut out.

Frisk and their friends stared at the TV unblinking for nearly a minute, waiting for the picture to come back, but the screen stayed dark. Nobody spoke. They continued to wait for another few minutes but the feed never resumed. Finally, they gave up and turned the TV off, still silent.

Frisk continued to stare blankly at the powered off TV for a long time while their brain tried to understand what had just happened. Behind their eyes, the scene played over and over; a chaotic jumble of gunfire and screams and blinding light. When Papyrus laid a sorrowful hand on their shoulder, Frisk turned and wrapped their arms around him tightly.

Sans didn't come back that night.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(everyone’s waiting for you)

Days passed. The incident in the council chamber made front page news for nearly a week and the council itself was in shambles. In light of a monster stepping forward to take the blame and the story Sans had told, the government was forced to reconsider the monster removal act. It seemed clear to everyone that Sans had been the true culprit all along. For now, the act had been suspended and it seemed likely it would be repealed altogether. Monsters were safe.

As for Sans himself, nobody could agree on what had happened. Was he dead? Had he escaped? The council chamber had been so full of gunpowder and plaster debris that nobody could tell if his dust was mixed in with the wreckage. His friends still held out hope but Frisk couldn’t stop the seed of doubt that had already taken root in their mind. Sans had expended tremendous amounts of energy in that council room. Far more than simply teleporting and summoning a few bones. The authorities were still on the hunt for him, but so far nothing had turned up and nobody even really knew where to look anyway.

Amazingly enough, there had been no casualties suffered after Sans’ little stunt. Several soldiers had gotten roughed up a bit but injuries were overwhelmingly minor. Following the incident, Sans’ friends and brother had undergone several rounds of intense questioning pertaining to Sans as well as each of their possible involvement with him as collaborators, but as they really hadn’t known anything about his plans, they were deemed unconnected fairly quickly.

With everything finally beginning to blow over, Frisk was at last able to come out of hiding. The first thing they did after assuring the authorities that they were safe and had in fact stayed in hiding of their own volition was go home and give Toriel a big hug. The large woman swept them up in her arms and cried for ages as she held them fiercely. Asgore joined the hug as well. He wrapped his large arms around the two of them and just held them while they cried.

Mayor Winterlance was furious, of course. He’d suffered immense public humiliation at Sans’ hands and lost the bulk of his support immediately following the broadcast. Some people still sided with him, but they were vastly outnumbered by those who sympathized with Toriel and Asgore. He had mostly disappeared from the public eye to lick his wounds, but Frisk had a feeling they hadn’t heard the last of him. Not just yet.

During the following week, Frisk spent a lot of time at Sans and Papyrus’ house keeping Papyrus company while he waited for any word from his brother. Papyrus was the firmest believer that Sans was still going to come home. Day after day he maintained his optimism even as the rest of their friends began to lose theirs. Frisk was extra careful not to let him see them cry.

At night, when Frisk was all alone, they would replay Sans’ last moments in their head. Over and over, they watched Sans wink at them before a rain of bullets descended on him. They wished they could go back in time and stop him from ever appearing in that council room; travel back to the moment of their conversation the night before and talk him out of it. He’d promised that everything would be okay. They’d believed him. They hadn’t expected his definition of okay to be so vastly different from theirs. “This isn’t okay, Sans,” they whispered into the darkness as hot tears formed saline tracks down their cheeks.

In their weakest moments, usually in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping, Frisk considered resetting. They would be lying in their bed in the dark and the button would just be there, hanging in front of them like a promise. Once or twice they’d found their hand reaching for it. How easy it would be to go back to the beginning and do it all again. They could hide any evidence of the other children’s visit to the underground and tell everyone the children had been eaten by wolves or something. You could sneak into Mayor Winterlance’s house at night while he’s sleeping and ensure that he never gets the chance to breed ill sentiment toward monsters. Just a quick stop by his kitchen on the way and then you—

Frisk pounded on their head to silence the voice and willed the reset button to disappear. As much as they wanted to see Sans again, they just couldn’t betray him like that. It had been his final wish that they not reset and they would honor it, no matter what.

Another week passed. Then another. Finally, even Papyrus gave up hope.

They decided to hold Sans’ funeral on the one year anniversary of the dispelling of the barrier. It seemed fitting. They had no dust to sprinkle on Sans’ favorite thing, but all of his closest friends—Frisk, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, and Asgore—gathered together on the cliff where they had all watched their first sunrise together to say their goodbyes. How strange, Frisk thought, that exactly one year ago today, Sans had stood here with them grinning and telling Papyrus, “we call that ‘the sun’, my friend.”

And now he was gone.

Each of them took turns doing something to honor Sans. Toriel told a knock-knock joke, Undyne set a bottle of ketchup by his grave marker, Alphys added a quantum physics book with a joke book inside it next to the ketchup, Papyrus regaled them all with a few home-cooked bad puns, and Asgore sang the official royal song of sending. When it came time for Frisk’s turn, they emptied their backpack and carefully stacked precisely thirty hot-dogs next to the ketchup and quantum physics joke book. “Here. Have fun,” they said simply.

After that, they all sat in a circle by the empty grave and spent a few hours sharing their memories of Sans. Undyne talked about her early memories of him, back when he’d visit the castle with the old royal scientist. She told them how he’d been quiet at first but wouldn’t fail to regale her with bad jokes whenever she tried to talk to him. Alphys talked about the times he’d helped her out in her lab. She’d always been impressed by how knowledgeable and diligent he was despite his claims that he hated working. Papyrus told them all kinds of amusing stories about how slovenly and lazy he was. According to Papyrus, Sans went out of his way to make messes and he delighted in being difficult about cleaning them up. He was also the worst sentry ever, always skipping out on work to go to Grillby’s or pop off to who knows where. Papyrus sniffled and wiped at his eyes while he talked and it was clear to everyone that despite Sans’ many faults, his brother loved him dearly. Toriel talked about the times she and Sans exchanged knock knock jokes through the door to the ruins and how precious those times had been to her back then. His jokes had been her sole company in an otherwise lonely exile. Lastly, Asgore talked about all the help Sans had been in settling disputes in the past year and the good advice he always gave whenever Asgore was having trouble understanding and working with human leaders. Everyone was thankful to Sans and they all would continue to miss him and remember him in their own ways. He would never be gone from their hearts.

Frisk stayed a long time after everyone else finally decided to go home. They just sat there next to the grave and the ketchup and the quantum physics book and the thirty hot-dogs and thought about Sans and what he would’ve thought of his funeral had he been there to see it. They thought of the possible puns and silly comments and he’d have made and how he’d probably have laughed at Toriel’s knock-knock jokes. Then they started to cry, because even though they’d already known Sans was gone, they realized in that moment that they’d actually been holding out hope all along.

The sun was already sinking below the horizon by the time Frisk finally thought about going home. Still, they didn’t move. They just sat and stared out across the valley as the last of the day’s light began to disappear. They continued to sit and stare silently even when they heard the crunch of footsteps approach from the direction of the cavern.

“Nice view, huh?” an unfamiliar voice remarked as the footsteps came to a stop just behind them. Just what Frisk needed, some happy hiker to come bother them in their gloom.

Frisk shrugged and continued to stare out over the valley, hoping the hiker would lose interest and go away.

The person just laughed at their cold shoulder. “Hey, now. Don’t you know how to greet a new pal?” they asked good-naturedly. “Turn around and shake my hand.” 

Frisk’s back promptly straightened and they let go of their knees. It couldn’t be…

Standing up, they slowly turned around.

A teenager stood before them, grinning affably. He looked to be around fourteen or fifteen with dark, scruffy hair and bright blue eyes. His hand was outstretched, waiting for them to take it. He was not who they had been hoping to see and Frisk felt disappointment settle heavily in their chest. Still, he seemed friendly, so they complied and grasped his hand. It was soft and warm and welcoming. The boy grinned wider. “Nice to meet you, Frisk.”

Frisk jumped in surprise and quickly pulled their hand away as if burned. How did he know their name? Frisk was sure they’d never met this boy before. They looked him over carefully, wondering if perhaps he went to their school. His appearance was somewhat familiar, now that they thought about it. They frowned as they tried to place his face in their mental catalogue. The boy’s smile fell away as he looked at them questioningly and suddenly, Frisk knew who he was.

“You’re…Oliver Winterlance,” they uttered, taking a small, disbelieving step back. They knew they were right, and yet, it didn’t make any sense. Oliver Winterlance should be in his forties, but here he stood, just a few years older than the boy in the photo they’d seen just a month before.

Oliver’s grin returned. “The one and only,” he confirmed, placing a hand on his hip. “And you’re the ninth child, Frisk Dreemurr.”

Frisk shook their head, still trying to wrap their mind around the boy before them. The fading light caught his eyes and to Frisk they looked like the sky on a clear winter’s day. He was so pale, as if the sun hadn’t touched him in a very long time. “How?” they asked, looking him up and down illustratively. “You disappeared thirty years ago.”

Oliver chuckled. The sound sent a shiver up Frisk’s spine. They’d heard that chuckle before. “How is it that I can appear before you as a dashing youth?” he translated, smiling goofily. He turned then to gaze out across the valley and the chilly winter air rustled his hair playfully. “Well, I imagine this will sound like a terrible cop-out, but blame the food.” At Frisk’s puzzled look, he explained. “In the underground, there aren’t many natural resources, right? So monsters learned to produce food magically. Unfortunately, while monster food can sustain a human magnificently, it doesn’t contain the nutrients necessary to build our bodies. Essentially, I’ve been more or less trapped in time for thirty years. I suspect I aged only about two years the whole time I was down there.”

Frisk’s mind was reeling. All this talk of magic and not aging coupled with meeting a person they weren’t even certain was alive five minutes ago, all on top of mourning the death of their best friend, had them feeling slightly squeamish. They had so many questions for this boy; countless questions; but the one that ended up tumbling out of their mouth was, “Why now? You hid for so long…why come back now?” They swallowed. “Is it…was it because of…because of Sans? Did you know…?”

Oliver’s smile faded. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and regarded them with a kind of wistfulness. “To be honest, I never planned to come back. Oliver Winterlance was dead and I was fine with keeping it that way,” he told them. His tone wasn’t sad, necessarily, but it wasn’t happy or angry or anything else either. He just sounded detached. “But then you said something that made me realize that I was looking at things all wrong.”

Frisk started. “I did?”

He nodded. “You said that a person who hides can choose to come back and that’s what sets him apart from a man who is truly dead. It got me thinking, what was I really accomplishing by trying to be dead? Wasn’t I just lying to everyone? You made me realize that my existence could still mean something. Maybe there was a role for me yet, y’know?”

Frisk felt their face heat up. “You mean you were listening when I said that?” They hadn’t imagined that the child they and Sans had been discussing might actually be aware of their conversation. Now they felt all kinds of embarrassed.

Oliver grinned. “Sure. I generally do when you talk to me.”

Frisk cocked their head, confused. “Talk to you? But I’ve never talked with you before. That was…”

Their eyes widened. They took another step back as their eyes raced over the figure before them. Little things like his height, his grin, the blue of his eyes and the familiarity in the way he talked to them, as if they were someone he’d known for a long time, all were coming together in their mind to paint a bigger picture of a person who up until that moment had been distinct from Oliver Winterlance in every conceivable way.

Swallowing the lump that had risen suddenly in their throat, Frisk croaked, “Sans?”

Oliver’s grin widened and he winked. “sup, kid?”

Suddenly, the backs of Frisk’s eyes were burning. They stared at Oliver Winterlance, no, Sans, as though seeing a ghost. In many ways, they were. They didn’t know what to think or how to act; they just knew that they were going to burst into tears at any moment and it was going to be the grossest, ugliest cry ever cried by anyone on this green earth.

Sans opened his arms in invitation. “come now, don’t you know how to greet an old pal?”

Frisk felt the tears spill over. Abandoning all pretense of control, they let out a cry of joy that echoed all the way across the valley and leapt.

Chapter Text

Why Children Climb Mountains

(you have a home right here)

Oliver ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the dense forest bordering the town. He didn’t stop, even though his legs were starting to cramp up and his chest was burning. The overuse of his magic sent spasms of agony through his body. He almost lost his footing a few times as shadowed roots and bushes obstructed his path.

He’d really done it this time. Of all the stunts he’d pulled in the past, this was the one that assured he no longer had a home to return to. He should have felt sad about that, and maybe if his family were anything close to the average, loving kind he would’ve, but instead, all he felt was relief. He was getting out of here; out of this town where fear and prejudice ruled people’s hearts and centuries of tradition and control kept anything from changing. Oliver didn’t need any of them. He was powerful. His family knew they couldn’t control him. Their magic was only a shadow of what it had been back when they’d reigned above all other magician families in the West.

Above the fleeing boy, Mt. Ebott loomed, magnificent and foreboding. It was the one place where his family wouldn’t look for him. They dared not trespass there for fear of the evil long sealed within; the monsters they themselves had trapped there nearly a millennium ago using the blood of their own clan. Oliver felt sweet vindication at using their own superstitions against them.

The hike up the mountain was slow, but Oliver persevered. He was driven not by determination but necessity and a sense of self-preservation. If the police caught him before he made it to the top, he’d be sent back to those doctors. With a generous lump of money from his parents, they would use both tools and medication to fiddle with his brain until his spirit broke and he became the perfect, obedient child his family always wanted. Oliver knew it was fear that drove his parents’ actions. They loathed not being in control and they couldn’t stand that Oliver was born with so much magical talent while both of them only barely had the gift.

At the top of the mountain, Oliver found what he was looking for. There, like a crater straight to hell, was the entrance to the monsters’ realm. It was an enormous gaping maw that looked like it could swallow him up at any moment. That was the plan, though. Taking one last look back toward the world he would be leaving behind, Oliver Winterlance offered a two fingered salute and took a running leap into the darkness below.

The first time Gaster took him to Asgore’s palace, Oliver was somewhat annoyed. Why did he have to leave his work to follow his mentor to a meeting where he would just stand there silently the whole time? There was no point.

“Come, Sans,” the tall royal scientist said gently, an air of amusement about him. He could tell Oliver was sulking and he found it charming, as he often did Oliver’s quirks. Weirdo. “You may be surprised by what you can discover when you take the time to observe and interact with the world at large. Perhaps you will even find the thing you lack.”

Oliver looked up at his mentor flatly. “Am I lacking something?”

Gaster chuckled. “Oh, very much so,” he answered, folding his long fingers together the way he always did when contemplating the results of a test. “Consider my request part of an experiment. You needn’t concern yourself with the details, simply do as I ask and I predict we will arrive at a result that is mutually beneficial.”

Oliver sighed and stood from the machine he’d been tinkering with. He grabbed a cloth and wiped down his hands. Gaster seemed pleased by his obedience. “Are you prepared?” he asked, holding out a hand to the young human.

“Just a sec,” Oliver answered, turning from the dark robed scientist to fumble with something high on a shelf. A second later, he’d retrieved a nondescript looking box large enough to hold a basketball. He carefully pulled the top off and slipped his hands inside. From out of the box he lifted a large white skull and a pair of gloves designed to resemble a skeleton’s hands. The skull’s eye sockets were dark and the mouth wore a large, toothy grin. Gaster looked on with interest.

“What’s this?” he asked, inspecting the skull inquisitively. He brought his own skeletal fingers to his mouth as his eyes roamed over the dips and curves of the synthetic cranium.

Oliver shrugged. “I figured it would only cause problems if I went out looking like a human so I made this mask to fit in better.” He looked to his mentor for his professional opinion. “What do you think? I modeled it after my favorite smiley old geezer.”

Gaster touched the skull’s crown delicately. “It’s exquisite,” he praised, tracing a finger from top of the cranium down to the arch of the zygomatic bone. “A little glamor and I imagine you will fit in quite impeccably.” Looking back at Oliver, he tilted his head questioningly. “Do you fear you won’t be accepted as you are?”

Oliver knew he wasn’t judging him; he was simply curious. Gaster was always analyzing and examining. The world was endlessly fascinating to him; like a newborn with the brain of a supercomputer. He smiled slightly at his mentor’s question. “I already left my humanity behind. Isn’t it just easier not to deal with the questions? After all, I’m Sans now. For all intents and purposes, Oliver is dead.” 

“Sans, I have a surprise for you.”

Sans perked up and set aside the joke book he’d been perusing out of boredom. “What’s up Gastman?”

Gaster gestured for his young protégé to follow. “Come. Walk with me to the fifth lab. Your surprise is waiting there.”

Interested, Sans hopped off his chair and fell into step with the scientist. Gaster’s strides were long and unhurried but Sans had to powerwalk to keep up. Despite all the years that had passed since he fled his town, Sans had only physically aged about a year and he was still quite small, not yet having hit his growth spurt.

The two researchers reached the lab a few minutes later and Sans looked around the place curiously as he entered. Nothing seemed different until he caught sight of a large tank off in the corner in an area that was slightly less cluttered than the rest of the lab. In it, a small form floated in yellow liquid.

Sans stepped closer and peered through the glass. Through the cloudy liquid, he was able to make out the figure of a monster. It was a skeleton type, tiny like a human toddler.

“Meet Papyrus,” Gaster said, coming to stand beside him. “He’s a product of my magic and the Determination I harvested from you over the past few years. I suppose that in essence he’s not dissimilar to the concept of a brother.”

Sans turned away from the small skeleton to look at Gaster with amazement. “A monster made of Determination? How is that possible?”

Gaster’s smile widened. “Oh, I do wonder. We will have to see if he is able to maintain his form after he’s discharged from his tank.” He raised one slender, tapered finger and pointed to the release button. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Sans gulped and looked back at the small form floating in the liquid. If Gaster’s experiment was a success, he would have a new monster sibling. But if it failed, Sans would watch this small life fizzle out right before his eyes. It was a difficult decision but Sans summoned up every ounce of his meager determination and pressed the button.

The capsule made a beeping noise and the fluid drained from the tank revealing Papyrus in all his tiny glory. The glass front of the tank swung open and Sans held his breath as he waited for whatever would come next. A few heartbeats later, the small skeleton twitched and opened his eye sockets. He looked right at Sans with an expression full of wonder.

Sans let out the breath he’d been holding and reached out to take Papyrus’ hand. “hey, little bro,” he greeted, adopting a goofy voice in order to make himself seem more friendly. “welcome to the world. it's big and scary and full of struggles but it’s home.”

Papyrus blinked up at him and then tightened his little phalanges around Sans’ gloved hand and giggled happily.

Sans felt his heart fill with affection for Papyrus’ small self and he took the little skeleton into his arms. He looked up at Gaster and his eyes shone with joy even through his skull mask. “i guess our family just grew.”

The day that Frisk came, Sans felt his soul come alive for the first time in almost longer than he could remember. Over and over and over and over and over he’d endured as the world was reset again and again and again. He’d almost gone mad with all the resets—almost stopped believing they would ever end. But that day, the woman on the other side of the door to the ruins said something different than usual.

“If a human ever comes through this door... could you please, please promise something? Watch over them and protect them, will you not?”

A new face appeared in the underground that day. A human child Sans had never seen before. He judged them to be about the same age he himself had been when he first came to the underground. The child was small and quiet and obedient; a tiny thing with a sweet face and the will to please. Perhaps they were just another child come to their death, but maybe, just maybe, they were a sign that the countless resets were finally finished. For the first time in ages, Sans felt determination stir in his soul.

Papyrus became fast friends with the child. He had always wanted to meet a human and this one did not disappoint. Papyrus was an innocent soul full of curiosity and dreams and it made Sans’ heart glad to see him having so much fun. Sans continued to observe the child with growing hope as they made their way through the underground without taking a single life. They were an extraordinary human, full of compassion and kindness the likes of which Sans had never met either in the underground or on the surface. Even Sans, cynical and mistrustful of humans as he was, found himself charmed by young Frisk.

He followed them through their journey, keeping an eye on their progress and interacting with them when it suited him. The more time he spent with Frisk, the more attached Sans became to them. He’d thought he was done with humans and their world, but this child, this kid who had climbed Mt. Ebott and tumbled into the underground with only goodness in their heart intrigued him and enticed him. He wanted them to succeed. He wanted to believe that humans were capable of love; because maybe if this child was, then he was too.

When it finally came time for him meet them for the last time in the Judgement Hall, Sans was sure: this was the human who would do what he never could. They would break the barrier and set monsterkind free. They had the Determination to make anything possible. When Sans saw them off to meet the king, he wore a true smile beneath his mask.

The next thing he knew, though, he was waking up in his bed, right back where he’d started.

Sans gripped his mask and breathed in and out, in and out, in and out, and screamed.

Over and over and over.

Over and over and over and over.

Sans felt his mind slipping. He was going to crack soon. He swore he was. This—this monster child was going to make him lose the plot. This wasn’t Frisk. This demon wasn’t the sweet, kind child he’d known before the reset. This one was a true monster. They came at him again and again with a heart full of violence. They felt no remorse. They delighted in what they’d done. They were the hatred and animosity of his parents and all the people of his hometown all contained in one neat package. Thirty years of hiding away, never seeing the sun or showing his face, and he still couldn’t get away.

When the deathblow finally came, it was almost a relief. Sans had already known he didn’t have the determination needed to save everyone in the underground, but he’d thought maybe he could keep the demon from escaping to the surface, at least. Now that Sans knew good humans like Frisk existed, he wanted to do what he could to keep them safe. But in the end, the demon’s Determination was mightier than Sans’ magic.

If only he had that kind of Determination, he thought as darkness took him. If only he knew how to keep trying.

It was difficult keeping up the pretense of being a monster on the surface. The small bits of magic he used every day, such as glamoring his mask and using shortcuts and keeping himself warm in the cold winter now taxed him greatly. Humans weren’t built to use magic constantly and Sans had learned this firsthand in the eleven months following the monsters’ departure from the underground. For the sakes of his brother and friends, though, he persevered.

Pretending only continued to get harder, however. As the months passed, Sans noticed that he’d begun to age at a normal rate once again. He was getting taller quickly and soon people would start to notice. What’s more, he was spending more and more time sleeping as his body tried its best to recover from his overclocked magic consumption. He was forced to hide out in his workshop to eat and give his body a break. Sometimes he wondered why the only determination he could muster was the determination to keep hiding. He had made his choice long ago, though. He’d left Oliver behind to become a monster and he wouldn’t look back. His friends needed him and there was no home left for Oliver anyway.

In truth, Sans hadn’t thought about his human life in a very long time. He liked his life as it was now. Sans had everything Oliver had ever wanted; good friends, a loving family, and hope for the future. He was ecstatic to wake up in the morning knowing that every day was a gift and he had the freedom to do anything he wanted; to be anything he wanted. And in all this, he found himself inexplicably drawn to Frisk. Sans had never connected well with his own kind, but Frisk was different. Frisk was so kind and lovely and charismatic. The more time Sans spent with them, the more his feelings took root. He began looking for excuses to spend time with them. He really believed that he had found the true timeline at last. After all, how could this be wrong when it felt so right?

But then, his father had gone and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. It rankled Sans how the old geezer pretended to be concerned about the missing children when Sans knew he was really just acting out on his hatred of monsterkind. If he had really cared about the children, he would’ve cared about his own son. But he didn’t. He was driven by bitterness, not love, and Sans almost wanted to reveal himself just to call him out in front of everyone but he knew nothing good would come of it. Sans had a backing and was influential but Oliver was just a lonely psychopath who had been declared dead thirty years ago. Sans had power. Oliver had nothing. If he was going to affect anything, it was going to be as Sans.

But what could Sans do, really? On the surface he had low magic and even lower determination. Even underground, he couldn’t stop one child from destroying everything he loved. All Sans had ever been able to do was watch his friends die. He would help out where he could, but ultimately it would be up to the humans and the boss monsters to determine how this affair turned out. He was already at his limit just maintaining his life as Sans.

But then Frisk showed up, crying, in his workshop. Sans had thought his hands were tied, but when he saw Frisk sitting there lost and alone and in tears he saw himself from all those years ago. He saw young Oliver hiding away, alone and helpless, and suddenly he was filled with determination. He wanted to protect Frisk. More than anything he wanted to keep them safe and happy because they were good and pure and full of light and fuck anybody who thought they could do to Frisk what they’d done to him. Not on his watch.

Sans had never planned to go back to being Oliver. He’d said goodbye and good riddance and washed his hands of his past life and he was happier now than he’d ever been as a human. He certainly never would have predicted that Oliver could be the answer to saving all of monsterkind. In the end, the price of peace would amount to the sacrifice of a single monster.

Honestly, Sans hadn’t known if he was going to survive his stunt in the council chamber or not. He knew his limits and he knew that he was going to have to expend tremendous amounts of magic if he wanted to avoid being captured and facing capital punishment, but it was either get arrested and be killed or try to escape and probably kill himself. He banked on the latter. After all, he’d made a promise. He’d given Frisk his word that everything would be okay and he was determined—by god, he was DETERMINED—to keep it.

Sans—no, Oliver held Frisk tightly against him. He smiled as he relished in the feeling of their hair pressed to his cheek—his flesh and blood cheek, not his mask. It felt like rebirth, reemerging from the underground the way he’d first entered it, a human too small for the world but secure in the knowledge that he was on his way to a better place.

Frisk was crying. Oliver thought about how many tears had been shed for him in the month following his disappearance and he squeezed Frisk’s small frame tighter in apology and in reassurance that everything would be okay now, just as he’d promised, and also in gratitude to them for keeping their end of their promise. Frisk squeezed back and buried their face further into his neck. They held him like they feared he would vanish in an instant if they so much as loosened their grip.

But Oliver wasn’t going anywhere. He’d fought with every ounce of determination he had to come back, and for better or worse, he was here to stay.

It had felt like his soul was being ripped into pieces when he’d faced off against the ring human soldiers in city hall. The human body was a finite container and Sans had tapped himself well and truly out with all the magic he’d used to construct such an enormous and complex illusion. In the end it had been determination alone that had given him the strength he needed to teleport out of chaotic council chamber and to the entrance of the underground. There, he’d lain for seven hours, bloodied from two gunshot wounds to the thigh and barely hanging on as his soul tried to shatter. Both his body and soul had screamed at him that he was finished; that he’d already passed his breaking point; but he thought of his brother and his friends and his promise to Frisk and he grasped at the life that still awaited him and hung on for everything he was worth.

It had taken four weeks for him to heal. In the underground, he had access to all the magic he needed and his reserves were able to refill quickly. After that, he’d just needed to wait for his body to mend. With the help of monster food, he’d made a full recovery in a fraction of the time it would’ve taken him on the surface. With each passing day he’d become stronger until finally he was able to make his way to Hotland and what little remained of his old home; the secret set of labs hidden away beneath Alphys’ home, deeper even than the True Lab. There, he had removed his mask for the final time and set it delicately on a dusty shelf beside his old joke book and a box containing Papyrus’ first attacks. It was in that lab full of memories that Oliver had at last said goodbye to Sans.

When Frisk’s tears finally dried up, Oliver pulled back gently. “hey,” he said, using a hand to delicately nudge their chin upward to look at him. He rewarded their compliance with a sunny smile. This was it; following this moment was the start of a new adventure for Oliver Winterlance. He was apprehensive, but far greater than that, he was filled with determination. “let’s go home.”