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"It's December! It's December!" Thomas was jumping on the bed, and Frisk looked over to see Asriel just as excited, but sleepy as well. "It's Christmas time!"
"No, Christmas is December twenty-fifth," Frisk said with a smile. "Thomas, why are you up so early?"
"Because Uncle Sans is up," Thomas said. Frisk's dark brown eyes lit up with understanding. As a child, she had also been up whenever Sans was up. He was by far the most interesting member of the family, and when she was growing up, Frisk had looked up to the skeleton brothers. Especially Sans' blue magic. "And it's time to decorate for Christmas!"
"Is that so?" Asriel asked. He picked Thomas up and swung him out of the bed. Frisk rolled her eyes and followed, her nightgown brushing against her legs as she stood. "Well, why don't you go get the skeletons to help you get decorations out while we get ready?" Thomas nodded, rushing out of the room. The little yellow monster that Frisk and Asriel had adopted was an energetic child, and Frisk held back a laugh as he bumped into the doorframe.
Thomas didn't have arms, but that didn't stop him from doing things or being insanely energetic. Papyrus was working with him on learning how to do things without arms, since his were removable, and Thomas had slowly been learning magic from Sans. Nothing too fancy, though. Frisk had made sure of that. Asriel and Frisk got dressed, talking as they did.
"Christmas, huh?" Frisk asked. Asriel smiled, his furry face stretching into a grin that reminded Frisk of his mother, Toriel.
"It'll be our first Christmas as a family," Asriel answered.
"I've had lots of Christmases with the skeletons," Frisk teased. Asriel rolled his grass green eyes.
"I meant you and Thomas and I," he said, pulling on a pair of pants and a green shirt.
"I know," Frisk teased. Normally, she dressed in full-on suits, but since they would just be home, Frisk pulled on a brown pair of slacks, a white shirt, and a brown vest. Nice and simple. "I suppose we should go see what they're up to, before things go sideways," she said as she quickly braided her hair.
"You're absolutely right," Asriel said. He shrugged his suspenders into place and offered his arm to Frisk. "Shall we?"
"You're the most over the top monster I know," Frisk answered, wrapping her arm through her husband's. Asriel was right, this would be their first Christmas together as a family, especially since it was the first Christmas after their marriage. Frisk and Asriel walked out of the room and into the living room of the warehouse, still arm in arm, where Papyrus and Sans were decorating for Christmas already. Sans was holding a glass of eggnog, which Thomas took a sip of. Frisk had to assume that since Sans was clean, it was non-alcoholic.
"Merry Christmas, human!" Papyrus said brightly, hanging some garland on the wall.
"There was a letter from Alphys and Undyne for ya, kid," Sans said, handing Frisk a letter from his trouser pocket. Frisk took it, pulling away from Asriel to read it. Her eyes scanned Undyne's hard, blocky handwriting, which she had developed after being a police officer and filling out so much paperwork.
Dear monsters (and Frisk),
Alphys and I are doing great in Paris, but we thought a visit might be in order. It's been a few years, so we've boarded a boat, and we're on our way home for Christmas. It'll be wonderful to see all of you, and it'll be even better to have Christmas with our whole family. See you in December!
Frisk smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. She could remember Christmases that she had had with the family. Her first was when she was five years old.
"My child, wake up, it's Christmas!" Frisk was pulled from her slumber by Toriel's warm voice. The warehouse was warm, but as far as Frisk knew, nothing was special for the day. Christmas? She could remember celebrating it with her human parents, before they had died, but Frisk didn't think monsters celebrated the holiday, especially since the whole point was some human baby who had been dead for a long time.
"Up and at 'em, kiddo," Sans said. He was wearing a red hat, and was dressed like the Santa Claus that sometimes appeared in big department stores. Last Christmas, Frisk's parents had taken her to R. H. Macy and Co., where there was a Santa to visit. Frisk had asked for a little stuffed toy, which she had gotten, but it was left behind in the old house after her parents were killed. "It's Christmas time!"
"But I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas," Frisk said. Papyrus bobbed his head in, a large grin on his thin skull.
"Of course we celebrate Christmas, human! It's the most wonderful time of the year!"
"Pap, I swear to God, if you start singing," Sans said. Frisk looked up at him, wondering what he would say next. "I'll have to join in." Frisk laughed, and Sans wrapped his arms around her. Since she had been staying at the warehouse, she was healthier, and seemed a lot happier. The little girl had nightmares, which was starting to worry him, even though six months ago, he had been first in line to kick her back to the streets.
"Come along, my child. Christmas means presents," Toriel said. The tall, soft goat monster picked Frisk up and carried her out into the living room. The day before, the warehouse had been nothing more than a home base and a place of business. It had felt like a home, of course, but it hadn't been festive. Frisk gasped as electric lights shone from around a tree. It smelled like pine and gingerbread, and Frisk heard the skeletons giggle behind her.
"Merry Christmas, human!" Papyrus said, stealing her from Toriel's arms. "Come on, you have to put the star on top of the tree!" The tall skeleton lifted Frisk higher, placing the cool metal star in her hands. She grinned as she put it on top of the tree. Ornaments were already hanging from its branches, and popcorn was strung around the tree on a string, cranberries making bright red spots between the popped corn.
"I love it!" Frisk said, unable to help herself. All of the monsters in the family grinned, and a knock came at the door. Papyrus set Frisk down, and she raced towards the door, nearly tripping over the too-long nightgown that Toriel had given her. Frisk wasn't quite sure where the monsters had found all these clothing for her, but Frisk didn't mind.
Frisk pulled open the heavy door, finding Alphys and a couple of monsters that Frisk had never met. There was an old, tortise-like monster, who was wearing glasses and walked with a cane. A smaller, dog-like monster was standing next to the older monster.
"Hoi!" The smaller monster spoke first, and she was very chipper. "I'm Temmie, and this is Gerson. It's nice to meet you!" The monster extended a furry hand, through her winter coat, and Frisk shook it eagerly.
"They're here for Christmas," Alphys explained. "Frisk, why don't you let us inside and go get some clothes on? I'm sure there are some presents under the tree!" Frisk did as she was told, a huge smile on her face as she raced back into her room and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. They were old hand-me-downs from Sans, that had gotten torn when he was out working. Frisk wasn't sure what he was working on, but she didn't ask.
Once Frisk was all dressed, she raced back out to find the whole family, plus the new monsters, sitting around the tree and drinking eggnog. Frisk crawled up and sat on Sans' lap, and reached for his glass of eggnog. When she took a sip, she felt her nose crinkle at the taste. It was burning a little.
"Oops, that's not for you, kiddo," Sans said, setting it down. "Come on, let's go get you some hot cocoa." Frisk looked as Sans led her away, but there were no presents under the tree. The warehouse was decorated beautifully, full of garland and electric lights, and there were gingerbread monsters on the table. Sans had changed into some more normal clothes, but the Santa hat remained.
Sans made some hot cocoa for Frisk and brought her back out to the living room. Under the tree were glistening presents and shining boxes. They were all labeled with people's names, each of the monsters had at least one present under the tree. Frisk had just learned to read names, and she knew that they were all written in Toriel's pretty handwriting.
"Human, why don't you hand out the gifts?" Papyrus asked. Sans nodded with a skeletal smile, and Frisk rushed forward, picking up the one addressed to Toriel. This one was in a different handwriting, maybe Sans'. Frisk rushed it to the motherly monster, who smiled kindly and thanked her. She repeated the process, even finding a present for Gerson and Temmie. They both thanked her, and Gerson kissed the back of Frisk's hand when she gave him the present. He seemed kind of like a grandpa.
Frisk watched everybody open their presents. Toriel's was a heart-shaped necklace, which Frisk guessed was from Sans. Papyrus' was a red scarf, which Frisk guessed was from both Sans and Toriel. Papyrus' eyes lit up when he got it, and Frisk grinned, happy that he liked the present. Sans got a fedora, and Gerson got a large book, while Tem got a gun. Alphys got some scientific things, and Frisk looked around the tree when everyone was done.
"Do I get one?" Frisk asked.
"I guess Santa didn't know you'd moved here," Sans answered. "But maybe he just couldn't get through the chimney to give you yours. Why don't you go check by the door?" Frisk looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Goddamnit, Sans could not resist the little human. She was becoming like a daughter to him, or a sister. Maybe both. Sans winked, a smile on his face.
Frisk did as the blue skeleton told her, walking down the hall towards the door. There, resting on the door, was a present. Frisk was written on it in large, curly letters. She didn't recognize the handwriting, but it was pretty. Frisk carried the present back to the living room, where Toriel and the rest of the monsters were grinning.
"Well, open it, human!" Papyrus said. "We're all curious about what Santa found you!"
Frisk tore into the paper, ripping it from the box. At first, she thought it was just a box, and disappointment grew under her skin. Santa had forgotten her - he had just gotten her a box.
"Try inside the box, my child," Toriel suggested. Frisk pulled the box open, finding a stuffed toy inside. It wasn't very big, and it looked like a sunflower. She had only seen them in picture books, in ones that Toriel had shown her. A golden flower. Frisk pulled it out, hugging it tightly to her chest. "Well? Did Santa do well?"
"I love it!" Frisk shouted.
"Are you gonna name it, kid?" Sans asked, taking a drink of his disgusting eggnog.
"Flowey!" Frisk said with a big grin.
"It's a perfect name, my child," Toriel said. "Flowey. I like it."
Sans poured Frisk a cup of eggnog and handed it to her. Remembering the first Christmas she had spent with the family, Frisk handed the cup off to Asriel, who drank it with a large, furry grin.
"Come on, Pap, lift the kid up. He can put the star on with his teeth," Sans said. Frisk grinned as the taller skeleton did as he was told. "Remember when we used to lift you up there, kiddo?" Sans asked Frisk. Frisk laughed.
"Yeah, and Tem used to shout orders. Nearly made Papyrus drop me one year," Frisk said. Sans laughed, and the three watched as Thomas and Papyrus got the star to align perfectly with the rest of the tree. Frisk could smell the fresh pine, and knew they would be sweeping up pine needles for weeks on end.
"So, Tem and Gerson come for Christmas?" Asriel asked, wrapping an arm around Frisk's waist. Frisk playfully pushed him away, and Sans smiled at the fact that he had been a part of making all of that happen.
"Yeah," Frisk answered in her raspy voice. "They've been coming ever since I was around, if not longer. Don't worry, though. As long as you don't call her cute, you're fine."
"I learned my lesson with that one," Asriel said with a laugh.
"Thomas, do you want some hot cocoa?" Frisk asked. From Pap's shoulders, the little yellow monster boy nodded with enthusiasm. "Okay, I'll go make some." Frisk leaned up and planted a kiss on Thomas' cheek. The little monster laughed, and for a moment, Frisk wondered if Toriel had ever felt the way she felt about Christmas, and the way she felt about Thomas.
Frisk heard laughter and some off-key caroling from the living room as the boys decorated, and if she closed her eyes, she could picture Toriel next to her. Tori would just have laughed and told her to ignore them, and they would read together or talk about magic. Frisk could sometimes heal Thomas if she tried hard enough, but generally, the magic Toriel had taught her lay dormant.
With two cups of cocoa in hand, Frisk returned to the warehouse. Things had been hard, the economy had been dropping, and there were plenty of girls who she knew that went to work in watch factories. But looking at her family, Frisk couldn't imagine sitting at a table and painting watches all day long.
"Mommy, tell me a story about grandma," Thomas said, looking with wide brown eyes up at Frisk. Frisk smiled. There was no way on God's green earth that she would ever stop Thomas from calling her his mother. Frisk looked knowingly at Asriel, who had known Tori his whole life instead of just a section, like Frisk.
"Well, she was very kind. When I was little, she and my father would decorate the whole house!" Asriel said. Thomas grinned, sucking up some hot cocoa from a straw. "Really, it was my dad who was big on Christmas. And my sister!"
"You had a sister, Daddy?"
"I did, when we were little. But she and I got sick, and she died."
"What was she like?"
"She was a lot like your mom," Asriel answered. Frisk usually didn't ask about Chara - not Asriel or Toriel, not when Tori had been alive. "Human, with dark hair and dark eyes. Her name was Chara."
Asriel was seven the Christmas before he and his sister got sick. Chara was a human girl that his parents had adopted a few years after he was born. She was the same age as him, and usually, the two were treated as twins. Asgore, their father, was the happiest man that Asriel had ever seen. He had white fur and a shaggy blonde beard, which somehow just made him look warmer.
Sometimes, when Asriel was paying attention to what his parents actually did, he noticed how scary his parents could be. Chara was fascinated with it, but Asriel always wanted to just stay out of it.
"Do you think someday we'll be a part of the family, too?" Chara asked, her reddish brown eyes alight with curiosity.
"We are a part of the family," Asriel answered. "Mom and Dad and you and me, we're a family."
"That's not what I mean," Chara answered. "I mean the family."
"I don't know what you mean," Asriel said. Chara was about to explain, but their father's deep singing voice interrupted them.
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly! Fa la la la la la la la! Tis the season to be jolly! Fa la la la la la la la!" Asriel and Chara looked at each other, huge grins on their faces and their eyes full of joy.
"Decoration time!" They both whispered at the same time, bounding out of their room and straight into the barrel chest of their father. Well, really more of his stomach. He laughed, his stomach shaking like he was Santa Claus.
"Come on, you two," Asgore said, scooping both his son and daughter up in his arms and walking onward through the house they shared. It was small, nothing large like Asriel's parent's office, where the little yellow monster he had met a few times had lived. Asriel couldn't remember her name, but he did know that she was slowly taking the place of some other monster that had died a while before he was born - Gaster or something.
As Asriels' thoughts absorbed him, which was unusual for a seven year old, Asgore continued to sing. Chara was singing along with him, sounding cheerful but somehow tinny to Asriel's soft white ears.
"Don we now our gay apparel! Fa la la la la la la la la! Troll the ancient Yuletide carol! Fa la la la la la la la! See the blazing harp before us! Fa la la la la la la la la! Srike the harp and join the chorus! Fa la la la la la la la la!"
The whole family, even Chara and Toriel, decorated for Christmas. It was full of caroling and eggnog, and Asriel and his mom even made homemade candy using Toriel's fire magic. The house was full of festiveness and joy, and there were plenty of presents to go around. As Chara tore through the wrapping on one of the presents Christmas morning, Asriel turned to his mom and asked a question that had been weighing on him ever since he was old enough to think about it.
"Mommy, why are we so rich?" Asriel asked quietly.
"What do you mean, my child?"
"How come we have so many presents?" Asriel asked. "I thought you and Daddy didn't do anything special for work."
"It's not something you have to worry about, Asriel," his mom answered.
"But Mommy, why do we have so much money?"
"Because your father and I work very hard," Toriel answered. "Why don't you open another one of your presents?"
"Do you kill people?" Asriel asked. Toriel looked shaken, but before the question could be answered, everyone in the room's eyes were on Chara. Asriel watched his sister. She looked paler than usual. Something tight hung in the air, an anticipation. But it wasn't like the fun, good kind that came before Christmas. This kind of anticipation nearly hurt.
"Chara, my child, are you okay?" Toriel asked. Chara looked at the monster, her eyes nearly red. Asriel had seen the red streaks in his sister's eyes before, but never seen them this strong. The brown was almost gone. As an answer, Chara coughed.
Asriel could see the blood on her lips when she was done.
The whole warehouse was decorated, and it was about a week before Christmas. Frisk, Asriel and Thomas had made and bought all sorts of candies and cookies, and there was a mountain of piles under the tree. Sans had taken to wearing a fuzzy Santa hat around the warehouse at all times, unless he was out on a job or meeting with someone the family was helping.
Sans walked around the warehouse, singing various Christmas carols. Since he was a skeleton, his voice functioned by magic, but it still managed to scrape against every bone in his neck, giving it a raspy, deep tone.
"On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: 12 drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a leaping," Sans sang. Frisk peeked out, finding Asriel singing with him. The two boys sang together, soon joined by Papyrus, until they were all three serenading Thomas and Frisk in the kitchen. "Nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying."
"Five golden rings!" Frisk joined in, her raspy alto fitting in perfectly with Sans' bass, Papyrus' high tenor, and Asriel's middle notes. "Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!"
Thomas grinned at the adults singing, but the verse was over, so he did'nt join in. Frisk laughed and scooped him up, about to sing more to him when a heavy knock came to the door. Everyone looked back.
"Who could that be?" Papyrus asked. He turned to Frisk. "Human, why don't you go open the doors?"
"I'm not a kid anymore, Pap. You're not gonna surprise me with Santa."
"No, seriously, kiddo," Sans said. "No one is expected."
"Didn't Undyne and Alphys say they were coming to visit?" Asriel added.
"Closer to Christmas, though," Sans said. "I figured they'd be here Christmas Eve. With Gerson and Tem."
"I'll go see," Frisk said, putting Thomas down. "Thomas, you stay with Uncle Sans, okay?" Thomas nodded, and Frisk went to see who was at the door. Before the heavy door was even all the way open, Frisk heard a distinct grunt.
"Police," a voice said. A question strong in her mind, Frisk opened the door a little more. Standing in the doorway was Undyne and Alphys, a large grin on both of their faces. "I'm here to inquire if you've got extra room for a couple friends, and if you've got any eggnog on hand."
"The answer is yes to both," Frisk said with a laugh. She hugged the monsters, letting them inside. "Everyone's in the kitchen." The three of them headed to the kitchen, and when the Parisan monsters saw Thomas, they both grinned wider.
"So this is the kid!" Undyne said. "I've heard a lot about you, kid," she said. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Undyne. And this is Alphys."
"Hi," Alphys said. Thomas shyly smiled, and let both Undyne and Alphys scruff his spikes. Sans poured everyone some eggnog, and while everyone caught up and talked about their lives in the last few years, he headed out with his slightly alcoholic eggnog and sat by the tree. He was thinking about the Christmases he and Papyrus had spent on the streets of New York, but more, he was thinking of the last Christmas he had spent with his father, when Papyrus was only maybe five or six.
It was the Christmas before they were sent to the streets, the Christmas before Sans accidentally killed his father.
"Sans!"
"Yes, father?" Sans asked, his eyesockets wide as he looked up at his father. Gaster was a medium-sized skeleton, his bones of medium weight, who generally dressed all in black. Now, though, Gaster was wearing a red sweater with his black slacks. He looked...almost festive, Sans realized.
"Gaster," Gaster answered. "After the holiday, we'll be moving forward with the project."
Papyrus rushed out of his room, a too-big-for-his-skull Santa hat on and an even bigger red blanket wrapped around him like a cape. Gaster smiled at Papyrus. Sans looked down, trying to forget that Gaster never smiled at him. To Gaster, Sans was just an assistant, just an unpaid help to his fantastic project that would put the humans Thomas Edison and Nicola Tesla to shame.
"Pap!" Gaster's demeanor was almost immediately changed. "Merry Christmas, my boy!" Gaster leaned down and pulled Papyrus up, the red blanket flying through the air like a long red scarf. Someday, Sans knew that Papyrus would turn out to be a great man. Forever, though, Sans knew that he'd be trapped under Gaster's shadows. The power generator, the Core, was rumbling below their feet.
Papyrus didn't remember their mother. Well, the other skeleton whose voice was soft and sweet. The one whose ashes were powering the big machine down there, the one whom Gaster had killed. Sans wasn't festive. Gaster and Papyrus could be festive together, sing Christmas carols and decorate the house. Sans would spend his Christmas in the background, ignored by his father and adored by his little brother. Who would be pulled away by Gaster at every chance he got.
"Sans! I'll need you to work on some things downstairs," Gaster said. "Run the usual tests. Make sure the power source is still working." Mom. Sans nodded, slipping away from his family and stepping down the stairs. It was dark, and to keep from being scared, Sans hummed a quiet Christmas carol. That was about as festive as he would get - humming a carol as he checked on the machine powered by his dead mother's ashes.
The tests Gaster wanted him to run were easy enough, so while the machine whirred and grumbled, Sans sat in a chair and drummed his bony fingers against the desk that lived down there. Gaster was usually very neat, but his desk was littered with random pieces of paper. Sans noticed that they were all covered in mathmatics and drawings, dimensions for the machine they were building.
If he had paid enough attention, and looked for long enough, Sans was sure he could understand it, but he didn't have the time or patience for it right now. It was nearly Christmas, just a few days away, and here he was, completely ignored by his brother and father. Spending time with some stupid machine that his dad cared about more than he would ever care about Sans.
And then there was Papyrus. Papyrus looked more like Gaster than Sans could ever hope to - he was thin and small, and had a long face, just like Gaster. Sans was short and chubby, even though he was getting older, but his heavy bones and barrel-shaped ribcage made him look like a fat little kid. If they weren't skeletons, Sans was sure that Gaster would be forcing him to lose weight.
"Merry Christmas, Sans," he grumbled to himself as the Core spat out a sheet of numbers. This was his life, and he knew that even if Papyrus went on to do great things, here Sans would be, an assistant to the monster who wouldn't even call him his father.
"Sansy?" Papyrus' small voice cut through the rush of machinery, and Sans turned to look at him. His long red blanket was trailing behind him like the train of a fancy dress or the cape of a superhero. Compared to the huge machinery around them, Papyrus was tiny. Sans felt his shoulders drop. Down here, Pap could easily get hurt, easily get killed. He was too small to be around the machinery without protection, and his blankey was not nearly protection enough.
"Yeah, bro?" Sans asked, keeping a careful eye on Pap. Papyrus was still in his red onesie that he always wore to bed. It was actually obscenely early in the morning, which Sans would have groaned at had he not been used to Gaster's anal early morning scheduling. Sans was in a white shirt and grey slacks, with black suspenders that kept everything in place around his magically round stomach.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Workin', Pap," Sans answered. "Go back upstairs."
"What are you working on?" Papyrus' voice was full of curiosity. Sans sighed.
"Stuff. Come on, Pap. Upstairs." Sans started to lead Papyrus back upstairs, but his little brother dragged his feet and the blanket, which was tied around his neck. And he was walking too damn close to the machines.
Before he could stop it, Papyrus' red blanket caught in the machinery, pulling the little skeleton backwards and making him fall and hit his head on the concrete. His eyesockets closed, and within a fraction of a second, Sans could see Pap start to dissolve.
"No, no, no," Sans said, tugging the blanket free from the machinery and wrapping his little brother up in it. When Papyrus was really little, Gaster had given Sans blue magic. As much as he wanted it to be helpful, he knew that it was a destructive kind of magic. It wouldn't help at all. Sans picked Papyrus up, still feeling a faint pulse through the monster's bones.
Sans started racing up the stairs, completely ignoring the work he was supposed to be doing. He would pay for it later, but Papyrus was more important. Papyrus was more important than the work - to both Sans and Gaster. Sans' heavy footsteps pounded on the steps that led back up to the house part of their living space, away from the ugly machinery that was supposed to change the world. It was supposed to be better than Thomas Edison's direct current, better than Nicola Tesla's proposed alternating current, better than anything the entire world had seen. But none of that mattered if it killed Papyrus.
"Gaster! Gaster!" Sans shouted. There wasn't an answer. He could feel Papyrus' body getting smaller in the blanket, and a few small white ashes were falling out like sprinkled snow on the concrete outside. Three days before Christmas was not the time to lose your little brother. The time to lose your little brother was never. "Gaster!" There still wasn't an answer. Sans felt blue magic shoot through his bones, through every inch of him.
His eyesocket lit up with anger. Papyrus was dying and Gaster wasn't answering. The one thing that his father actually cared about other than his damn machine was being lost, and Gaster was paying it no mind because it was Sans' voice that was screaming to him. Sans was done with it. He didn't pay attention to the magic getting out of control - and he didn't pay attention to the way the breaking, electric blue light was curling around his little brother's slowly dying body. All he cared about was Gaster, and Gaster fixing Papyrus. That was all he needed.
"Dad!" Sans shouted with all his might and all his rage. The blue light erupted through the house, and there was Gaster, and there was Papyrus. Healed. Sans nearly dropped him, full of surprise. The blue magic and light died all at once, leaving Sans with shaking hands and a sick feeling in his stomach. Using his magic hurt. Using his magic made him feel like he was walking through a fire. What the hell?
"Gaster. You know to call me Gaster," Sans' father said. Sans looked down, trying to hide his shaking hands. Papyrus had crawled from Sans' arms, standing up on the ground shakily. The small amount of ashes had been taken back into him, and somehow he was as good as new. Sans didn't know how or why, but he wasn't really sure that he wanted to know.
"Yes, sir," Sans said. Pap looked up at him with empty, expectant eyesockets.
"Sans?" Pap asked quietly. There was a large tear in the blanket, but Papyrus held onto it like it was a lifeline.
"Yeah, bro?" Sans asked, just as quiet.
"Who's Gaster?"
"I am," Gaster said. "I'm your father."
"Gaster," Papyrus said. "Gaster."
"Brother, you're missing all the festivities," Papyrus said. Sans looked up at his brother, notcing the long red scarf that was wrapped around his neck. It was a Christmas tradition ever since Pap got it for Christmas the year Frisk had come to stay. "What's wrong, Sans?"
"Nothing, Pap," Sans answered. His voice was gruff, and damn if he didn't want a drink right then. "Go join the fun. I'm just enjoying the lights." Papyrus sighed, but left Sans alone. Sans stared at the Christmas lights, trying to shake the memory. Sure, his life had gotten a lot better since the Christmas he had almost killed his brother, but the season still managed to leave him blue and afraid.
Sans didn't hear Frisk walk up next to him, but he felt her presence next to him. She handed him a glass of amber liquid, which he quickly downed. As much as he hated to admit it, Sans knew that Frisk knew him too damn well. Even though it had been years since he had been an alcoholic, years since he had been drunk, Frisk knew that the holidays were hard for him.
"You know, electricity is just a pattern," Frisk said. She was staring at the lights, too, watching them glimmer and twinkle in the dim light of the warehouse. "And anyone's actions. So is Christmas. Just patterns."
"You're a goddamn genius, Frisk," Sans said, kind of out of the blue. "Why do you waste your time with the lot of us?"
"You all have patterns, too," Frisk answered. "Plus, I like all of you."
"We put a hole in your leg when you were sixteen," Sans said. "Shit didn't get better from there."
"Asgore Dreemurr put a hole in my leg when I was sixteen," Frisk said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. All that is behind us now."
"Is it really?" Sans asked. He messed with the empty glass, his pointy fingers tapping against the glass. Blue magic sparked through his fingertips, but now, Sans welcomed the pain.
"Whatever happened in the past, it's over now," Frisk said. "Enjoy the holiday. Sing some carols. Drink some eggnog. Change your pattern."
"Change it, huh?" Sans asked. "Is that really an option at this point? It's been the same since I was fifteen, can I really change it now?"
"You can try," Frisk said. "It's Christmas, anything is possible."
"You really think so?" Sans asked. Blue sparks were still shooting from his finger tips, and they danced with the lights from the Christmas tree. Somehow, all those years ago, his dangerous, angry magic that had so often felt like a disease had saved his brother. Even after all this time, Sans didn't know how it had happened. He wasn't complaining by any means, but he knew that he couldn't control his magic.
"You've known me for almost my entire life," Frisk said. "Do I really say things that I don't mean?" Sans didn't answer, just set the empty glass down next to him. "Merry Christmas, Sans."
Frisk walked away, the click of her heels sounding almost exactly like Toriel's. There was a time when Frisk would have died to hear Sans think that. Frisk, like Toriel? How absurd. But now, it seemed almost right. Someone had to take the lead's place. Someone had to replace the head of house. Why not the girl who could see the patterns in everything?
"Mommy! Daddy! Wake up!" Thomas' bright voice pulled Frisk and Asriel from their sleep, and the first thing that both of them saw was his huge grin. Frisk and Asriel both smiled back, getting out of bed and heading down to the Christmas tree. There were presents piled, and Thomas gasped at the thought of Santa Claus. Knowingly, behind the little monster's back, Asriel smiled at Frisk.
"Merry Christmas, everybody," Undyne said, tugging Alphys along behind her. They were both fully dressed, while Frisk and Asriel were both still in their pajamas.
"Merry Christmas," Frisk answered. She kissed Asriel's cheek. "I'm gonna go powder my nose." Asriel smiled, and Frisk slipped away to quickly take a shower and get decent for the day. Gerson and Temmie would be at the warehouse soon enough to join in the festivites.
Asriel made Thomas wait until Frisk was back downstairs before he could open presents. Thankfully, Frisk was quick, but then she made Thomas wait for Asriel to be ready, too. In the time that Asriel was getting ready, Sans and Pap came downstairs, both looking festive and cheerful. Patterns were changing.
A heavy knock came to the door, so while everyone else enjoyed the conversation lit by the electric lights of the Christmas tree, Frisk and Thomas went to answer the door. There, holding presents and grinning with Christmas cheer, were Gerson and Temmie. Behind them were the ghosts from The Ghost Theatre, Mettaton and Napstablook. Frisk let them in, poured some eggnog, and got everyone settled.
Asriel came back downstairs, taking his place. Frisk looked around, for a moment waiting for the familiar click of Toriel's heels. It had been a while, but Frisk was still certain that they were coming. Asriel listened for the laughter of his father, Asgore, which had always been his thought of Santa Claus' belly laugh. Sans was quiet for a moment, swearing he could hear his father. Gaster.
Everyone was pulled out of their stupor, done waiting for someone to call their names or appear, when Thomas started ripping into Christmas presents with his teeth. Only the ones with his name on them, of course, but nonetheless, he was getting started. Frisk laughed a little as he nudged a box towards her to pull open. She did so, letting her husband pass out the rest of the presents.
As everyone opened their gifts, exclaiming gratitude and love for the things they got and the people who gave them to them, Frisk could feel it in the air around her. Christmas had truly come, even without Toriel, and Frisk could see the patterns starting to change. Things were going to be different.
All the presents were opened, the food was being cooked in the kitchen by Papyrus and Asriel, and Frisk was sitting with Thomas, reading to him. The two were reading A Christmas Carol, which was admittedly a little dark, but Thomas seemed to be enjoying it, so they read on. Thomas was reading the part of Scrooge, mostly because he wanted to, and also because Frisk could not put herself in the angry old man's position. Thomas liked acting it out, pretending he was a bitter old man when really he was just a little yellow boy with no arms.
The end of the story was nearing, and Asriel slipped away from the cooking to watch his wife and son read together. Frisk had taught him to read when he was recovering from being shot, and he had taught her how to play the piano. But still, Asriel loved hearing Frisk's voice read, and he loved the raspy damage that had been caused when she was sick as a child. It made her somehow more real to him, more grounded.
"Your turn, Thomas," Frisk whispered, pointing to a line of text in the book. Asriel smiled, knowing that neither of them were paying any attention to him. Frisk had gotten a lot more solid now that Thomas was around, and Asriel was sure that she wouldn't be falling off of any buildings any time soon. Things were getting better. Things were happier. And this Christmas had been their first as a true family. It was wonderful.
"God bless us, every one!" Thomas cried. Frisk grinned at him, and he grinned back, and quietly, Asriel clapped. In the bright electric glow of the Christmas lights, his family was perfect. There was nothing more he could ask for, and nothing more that he could have wanted.
Christmas was perfect, as long as he was with his family and in Manhattan, where he belonged.