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The collection of old tapes that the skeleton had stashed under his television set was not that interesting. Frisk didn't recognize the titles, and they didn't recognize the pictures on the ones that had boxes. None of them were cartoons, and none of them interested Frisk at all. Sans seemed to pick up on their disappointment from where he sat, watching them sort through the tapes from their position on the floor.
"I'll keep an eye out for one ya might like better." He offered as a condolence, and they peered back at him over their shoulder. He was staring, grinning, his expression as lazy as the way he was sprawled on the couch.
It had been one full day of being in his cabin, and although Frisk wasn't sure, they thought he was worried that they'd get bored without anything to do. They knew how sometimes grown-ups would fuss over them, like they were little and might get up to something if they couldn't be kept occupied- but that wasn't really true. Normally they were happy just to draw pictures, or watch the animals outside, or they could explore the woods and come up with all kinds of ideas about what they were doing out there, kind of like playing pretend but not exactly.
Looking at tapes had been an excuse to be able to snuggle up to him on the couch, like the first time they'd met him, however fruitless.
During times where they really had nothing to do, they would just think about stuff. They weren't a little kid who'd get fussy if they were bored, or get into mischief if they didn't have something keeping them out of it. They turned back around, putting the tapes away and then standing up. Their legs still trembled from the past night of finding Sans's cabin, but they didn't feel tired after they'd slept next to him on the couch.
Practically right after he'd set them down, and sat down beside them, they had laid on his lap like the first time they'd met. Frisk had slept through the night, and the next day, he had them take a bath. This time, though, they had their own clothes to wear, and they took their change of clothes in and came out fresh and clean, and in a fresh and clean outfit that resembled the last; Frisk was picky, when it came to clothes sometimes. So when they found something they'd wear, Frisk's Mama or Granny would buy a lot of it if they approved.
When they'd come out clean, he'd made them food- toast, this time, with a fried egg on it that was a little bit burnt on one side but they didn't mind. They ate it happily, sitting at the counter and watching him... watch them. Their legs didn't reach the floor, although for once it was because the seats were so high up and not because they were just extra-short.
After eating, he'd gone out, making them promise to behave- to stay put, and not leave the cabin or wander off until he came back. And they nodded. They passed the time by watching the movie Sans had left playing when he left, and when they got bored of that, they climbed onto the kitchen sink, sitting on the slim piece of countertop with their feet in the basin. Leaning on the wall by the window, they watched outside.
Watched birds flying through, sometimes landing to pick at the ground. Watched as they would sometimes catch a worm in their beak before flying off with it. Watched squirrels and other rodents scurrying through the grass, and appearing and disappearing in and out of the brush. Frisk couldn't tell what, but at one point, they saw something bigger than a rodent that they thought was maybe a fox slinking around a bush.
Eventually, they climbed down, bare feet touching the wooden floors gingerly at first. They weren't smooth, finished floors with a shine, like the ones at Frisk's house. So they worried about splinters, if they weren't careful. As the day got later, and Sans was still not back, they debated with Ears- knowing Ears did not have an opinion of his own- on whether they should snoop around. In the end, they chose to snoop, peeking in drawers and opening the wardrobe. There weren't many places to look, though, and nothing interesting to find.
When Sans came back, Frisk was lying on the couch and doodling in the notepad they'd packed in the backpack. The sun had begun to set, and Sans came in through the front door and mumbled a "Hey, kiddo." on his way to the bathroom. He looked disheveled, and muddied up, and he took a long time where they could hear the water running in the bathtub. When he'd come out, finally, Frisk sat up, and he told them to cover their eyes.
Little did he know, they'd caught a glimpse of him, naked except for the towel around his waist, and he really was just bones! So where did the softness of his body come from when he'd carried Frisk, or when Frisk laid against him? They were intrigued, although they did what he asked and laid back down, draping their arm over their eyes. They could hear him moving through the cabin. Hear the wardrobe door open, and the shuffling of fabrics and the click-clacky sounds of bones touching stuff. Wood, handles, walking on the floor...
"Okay, good to go." He said, and they sat up, looking at him to investigate. He grinned at them, sheepishly, with a little wave, and they looked him over once, trying not to seem too obvious.
He was soft again. Wherever he had clothes on, he looked plump and soft and not just bones even though Frisk had seen that he was! It felt like a mystery they needed to solve, but they argued, using Ears's voice, that they couldn't be so rude.
So instead they sat up, dropping the notepad on the table and scooting to the edge of the couch to make room for him and his new outfit that looked very similar to his last one. And the one he'd given Frisk to wear, before. Only this one had pink, fuzzy slippers instead of sneakers. When he took his usual seat beside them, they glanced at the bathroom, where they could see his clothes. Wet, and a little wrinkly, and hanging on the edge of the tub to dry. So he'd done his laundry in there, they realized. That's what took him forever.
Leaning against the back of the couch, they tilted their head back to look at him, against his outstretched arm- he'd picked up the remote, and started rewinding the tape he'd put in earlier, so Frisk had expected he wouldn't be looking at them. But he was, his soft eyelights meeting their gaze with an expression they couldn't figure out. He didn't look happy, even if he was smiling.
For a moment, they tried to think of a way to ask him where he went. He'd seemed okay this morning, but now he just seemed... tired, and not happy. Not sad exactly, but not happy. Before they could, the tape had finished rewinding, and started playing on the screen, grabbing both of their attention before quickly losing Frisk's. Not long into the movie, they'd climbed down to the floor, and glancing at him for signs of disapproval, sat down sideways from the television to start picking through tapes.
The monster had taken their place on the couch, laying out and taking up the whole thing, so when they were done and they came back over to sit down again they thought he'd get up and let them. He didn't.
"Sorry, ya snooze ya lose. Better luck next time." He said it with a shrug, and Frisk was glad he seemed a little happier now- even if it was just because he was teasing them.
Narrowing their eyes, and taking his refusal to make a space for them as a challenge, Frisk looked over the couch and over Sans and made their plan of action. Then, they stepped one foot up on the cushion and moved to grab the back of the couch, to hoist themself over him and sit down in the space behind his legs. Instead, he shifted with a chuckling "Woah," off his side and onto his back, and their legs, trembling and worn, were bumped and gave out, landing them hard on his front and drawing a sharp "Oof!" out of the both of them.
Before they could gather themself climb off of him, his hands rested on both of their sides, gingerly, lightly. Like he was hesitant to really touch them. Their face burned and they managed to sit up, using the back of the couch as support, and looked down at him, trying desperately to force an apology off their tongue. Maybe they could have, but he chuckled, even if he didn't look like he found it all that funny, before they could find the words.
"Pretty sure that wasn't what you were tryin' to do." He said, and they nodded their head hard, hands drawing to their chest between them as they looked down at him from their accidental seat on his lap.
Was he hurt? He didn't seem hurt. The strained smile on his skull didn't look like a grimace of pain, or even impatient for Frisk to get off of him. In fact, Frisk knew they were blushing, knew their face was a bright, awful red, but they thought that he was maybe blushing too. The blue hue on his cheekbones and across his nose, made them think so- his eye was blue the night before. When he opened his mouth to eat, they recalled, his tongue was also blue.
His hands on their sides rested a little easier, palms against their waist and then sliding naturally down to their hips, and for a time the two just looked at each other. Frisk wasn't sure what feelings were stirring in their chest, in their stomach, but before they could figure that out he'd sat up and used his grip on their body to push them off of him and onto the cushions of the couch.
They blinked, startled by the sudden change and worried he was upset with them after all, but when he looked at them, open-mouthed to say something, it didn't seem like his unhappiness was at Frisk- and then the sound of a lock turning stole his attention, and he jumped off the couch, moving for the door. Frisk watched, curious, alert, and on-edge as the door swung open; afraid it was their family, here to take them home, or a police officer or someone like that.
It was another monster. Another skeleton, only this one was even bigger- much, much taller than Sans was, but a lot skinnier too; more bones showing, but also where he was wearing other clothes (armor? like a knight's?) not the same kind of soft. He had to duck to get in the cabin through the doorway, and when he straightened out he almost came to the ceiling. Frisk almost laughed imagining him in Aunt Raina's trailer, picturing the way he'd take up basically the entire thing, but they kept quiet.
Because Sans seemed nervous, and tense, standing with his back to Frisk to greet the new monster, and because he'd seemed surprised that he'd gotten a visitor in the first place. "Hey, bro," Sans greeted him with a level of nonchalance that did not match his posture, but the taller Skeleton- who had a louder voice, and a more imposing demeanor- did not seem to notice.
"Yes, greetings, Sans. I came as soon as word reached me that you had found hunters in our territory. Tell me, is-"
"Everything's fine, Pap, nothin' to worry about. Easy-peasy, all handled." Sans waved a hand as if to brush the taller monster off. "Good thing you came by, though- I'm gettin' kinda low on snacks."
The taller skeleton seemed taken aback by Sans's words, like he'd said something so silly, and then his hands curled into fists and Frisk watched, nervous that he might do something mean. But in the end, all he did was yell, and not even a mean yell, but an exasperated one that Frisk had heard a lot from their Aunt Raina. "I just came by with groceries not even two days ago, where in the world did-" The kind where she would raise her voice, but then she would make sure Frisk knew she wasn't angry, she was just overwhelmed and that was okay. But when he stopped abruptly, it was because his eyes had gone past Sans and to Frisk, who sat, wide-eyed on the couch.
"Sans," The new monster began, his voice suddenly sounding weaker. Smaller, and more hesitant- like maybe he wasn't sure about what he was seeing.
"Yeah, bro?" That overly unbothered attitude gave away Sans's nerves, even if he tried to hide it. Frisk could see the way his shoulders were tight, and stiff, not like usual when he looked so lazy even just standing still someplace.
"What is that?" He asked, his eyes still on Frisk.
Sans glanced behind him, at Frisk, turning enough to wink at them before turning back to the other skeleton. "That? That's my TV. Had that thing since I've been here. You never saw it?"
"No, not that, and do you really think now is a good time for your ridiculous shenanigans?" He was outraged now, raising his voice again, and although he was yelling at Sans his eyes kept darting back to Frisk, who felt the urge to shrink, or leave for the bathroom. "I demand an explanation this instant, Sans!"
"Oh, you mean Frisk?" He turned again, and now they were both looking at them. "That's my new pal, they uh- showed up."
"Showed up?! They just showed up? Is that so?"
"Well, yeah."
"In the middle of the woods, on monster territory."
"Yep."
"And you just decided that it was the perfect time to- Sans, does this human have... a family?"
Frisk blinked, wondering now if this was the monster they needed to worry about taking them home. They shook their head, no- they didn't. They left their family and planned to keep it that way. But Sans answered the opposite, for them, out loud, and Frisk scowled- they did not! Not anymore.
"Yeah."
"Family that might, say, come looking for them?"
"Eh, all the way out here? Probably not."
The tall skeleton finally pulled his eyes away from Frisk, to turn to Sans, stepping up closer, leaning in and lowering his voice as if Frisk couldn't hear. "And you aren't even just a little worried about what could happen if the other humans find them here, with you? What they might think?"
Sans, for a few seconds, didn't answer. When he did, it was with a sidelong glance at Frisk. "I think they've got ears, Pap. Maybe we can talk outside?"
"That sounds best." He straightened up, still obviously a little flustered as he strode across the floor to the front door. Sans followed him out, waving at Frisk like nothing was going on and nothing was wrong, but they knew better.
It was all really confusing. They didn't understand it, but they did gather that the same way monsters couldn't come into town, humans were not allowed here, either. But if that was true, why would the new skeleton worry about other humans finding them there?
Outside the front door, Frisk could hear the two talking. Not the words, except when the new one would raise his voice and even then they could only hear a word or two- "stray cat" and "danger" standing out the most. They couldn't sit still, fidgeting, chewing at their lip that had been so chapped since the night before, and squirmed, looking for a distraction.
The distraction came as an idea. Their eyes landed on their notepad, where they'd mostly-finished a drawing of Sans, and they slipped off the couch and onto the floor, pulling the pen and paper over. Turning the page to a fresh one, the words came easier this time than when they'd written their name for him. Usually words did come easier, written or spoken, when nobody was around to expect them, or hear them, or demand them.
In the end, they still only wrote one, short sentence. A question. But it was one they needed to ask him all along, so at least now they could. Even if they were feeling afraid of the answer.
Inching across the room towards the door and the muffled voices, Frisk felt their ears perk up at the sound of their name from Sans's voice. They moved closer, slowly, trying to stay quiet so that the floor didn't creak and give them away, but when they pressed their ear to the door, the voices fell silent.
Then, through the wood, Sans said, "Okay, Nosey. We're comin' back." and Frisk, startled, stepped back from the door before it opened.
The two monsters did come in, and while Frisk didn't normally feel bothered in particular by being small, they felt absolutely miniature standing between these two skeletons. The taller one was way over half their size, even if there were two of Frisk and one stood on top of their own head, they wouldn't be as tall as he was. And Sans wasn't as tall, but he was still big, looming over them and they clutched the notepad in their fingers until their knuckles turned white.
And Frisk wasn't scared exactly, but it was hard not to feel uneasy. With the way the two stood over them. Looking down at them. Frisk took a breath, and held the notepad out for Sans to take it, to read the note. He did, and the other skeleton moved in to read it as well. In careful letters, keeping it as neat as they could, they asked, D o y o u w a n t m e t o l e a v e ? They didn't look at him as he read it, staring at the floor instead.
"No way, you an' me are pals." Sans answered with a certainty that let the air leave Frisk's lungs, and tension pour away. "Me an' Pap here- he's my little brother- just had to work a few things out." Gently clapping Frisk on the back pulled their gaze up from the floor and back to him, who smiled, and to his brother next to him, who didn't.
The brother just had a pinched, worried look on his face. "...Yes. Hello, human. It is me, The Great Papyrus!" He said it with a practiced gusto that didn't quite reach its peak, even when he straightened up to stand taller. "It is a- pleasure, to make your acquaintance." He extended a hand to shake theirs.
Although they still felt a little small, and maybe a tiny bit afraid, they took his hand in theirs and offered a shake. Cold, warm bone. Warm like Sans, but it didn't reach their own bones the same. Papyrus was smiling, a polite smile but one that had worried eyes, and eyebrow-bones pulled together. When he retracted his hand, Frisk realized they'd grabbed onto Sans's hoodie and they let go, feeling their face begin to burn when they saw he was grinning down at them for it. They weren't even sure why that was so embarrassing, but it was!
Startlingly sudden, Papyrus let out a laugh, and Frisk watched as he snatched the notepad from Sans's hands and held it up to look closer; the first page, where Frisk had been drawing earlier, had fallen into place over the note they'd written. The drawing of Sans, laying sprawled over the couch with an almost bored expression- the one they'd seen when they woke up that morning. He was awake, looking down at them like he didn't have anything to do that day or ever again, even though he did end up busy for a long time later. And they just thought it was funny, and nice, and they weren't making fun of him when they drew it.
"Sans!" Papyrus laughed, flipping the notepad around to show him. "Look at this masterpiece! It captures you so exquisitely! The accuracy is impeccable!" Even though Frisk hadn't heard some of those words before, they could tell that they meant good things given that he was so delighted. "Human, did you draw this?" He asked, then, and Frisk looked, wide-eyed between the two skeletons.
At least Sans didn't seem bothered by it, like Uncle Rick got when they drew him before. But maybe it was different because Uncle Rick didn't like that he looked angry, and Sans was nice. Not angry. Frisk, shyly, nodded their head.
"Heh- I don't know, are you sure it's me?"
"Of course it's you, Sans, look at your face!" Papyrus tapped at the drawing, holding it up in front of Sans again, laughing harder. "The human perfectly captured your lazy-bones!"
The rest of the visit was short. Papyrus seemed to have shifted gears, cheering up upon seeing the drawing Frisk had made of Sans, and some of the awkward tension had melted away. But he took stock of the cabin, made a few notes and left soon after, telling Sans that he'd be back soon with "adjusted supplies" and then telling Frisk that it was "a pleasure to meet them". Only this time, he sounded sincere. And then he was gone, and it was just Frisk, and Sans.
With Frisk standing towards the counter, picking at a thread on the hem of their tank-top, and waiting, nervously, to see if Sans was going to be upset by... them. Or the drawing, or... something. Something was bothering him, given the way his hands were in his pockets and he watched after the door, longer than he needed to once Papyrus had left. Eventually, Sans locked the door behind his brother, and returned his hand to his pocket before turning around to face Frisk. He was smiling, sure, but it wasn't real. Not the same easy smile he'd had earlier that day, before they fell on him and Papyrus had come and things had changed.
It seemed too long, the time that elapsed as he just looked at them from two feet across the room. Like he had something to say, or maybe he didn't and that was the problem. Frisk couldn't ask any of their burning questions, like- why was Papyrus so unhappy with Frisk being there, at first? And what had they talked about outside? What did Sans tell him about Frisk? And now that they were thinking about that, they also wished they knew what he thought about them, too. What had Sans gathered about Frisk, about their family, without them saying it?
Although... he'd known where Aunt Raina lived, so maybe he knew more than they thought he could. How did he know that stuff? And then what was that Papyrus had said about hunters? What was it Sans was doing earlier that made Papyrus come out here, worried about him?
"So, uh, I guess I should tell ya," He began, and when he continued Frisk was frustrated to hear a statement that only brought them more questions they couldn't ask. "I'm really not allowed to have guests out here, or at least not human ones. Not that I mind," He added, shrugging. "Never been much of a stickler for the rules."
Words swelled in their chest, worried at their face and in their hands that curled into loose fists and pressed together at their chest. Words that they could almost get out, but that still only caught in their chest. He'd said they could stay, that they were friends and it was okay. But they didn't know things like that- like that humans weren't supposed to be here- when they'd come. The first time had been an accident, but this time they came to find him, and now they thought that maybe they shouldn't have.
The night before, when he found Frisk, he'd attacked them. Accidentally or not, he had. Was that because he thought Frisk was a hunter, like Papyrus had mentioned? Is that what Sans was doing when he left? Looking for hunters? Their eyes fell to the floor as they remembered his return. Remembered him coming in, going straight to the bathroom. Clothes dirty. Soaked with dirt, with mud. Wasn't it mud?
Barely, they stopped themselves from glancing towards the bathroom, where Sans had washed and hung his clothes to dry. Frisk hadn't thought about it again since it happened, and now they felt silly for that. He'd been about to... do something, with that jagged, sharp bone made out of bright light that he'd put in the air. Made with magic, they guessed. He was about to do something bad. Did he do that to anyone who came out here hunting?
"Hey, kiddo, you look like you've seen a ghost. I'm a skeleton, remember?" He cracked, and they looked at him again, then at the notepad on the counter where Papyrus had left it before he took his leave. They couldn't bring themselves to smile, and that made Sans's grin fade, too. All the unanswered questions were swirling in their head. Spinning, making them feel almost dizzy with uncertainty. Casting a final glance at him, they took the notepad and went back to the table, keeping their eyes off the bathroom no matter how badly they wanted to look that way. To investigate further.
Sitting down on the floor, they grabbed the pen, flipped the drawing of Sans over once again, and below the first note, they concentrated, trying to find the right question to ask so they could answer more than just one. Maybe just the scariest one would be better. That way they could just put it out of their mind. So they wouldn't have to think about it anymore once he gave them an answer that made sense, that made him less- less suddenly intimidating.
While they wrote, Sans stood still in place for a while, and then he started moving around the kitchen, messing around in the fridge and cabinets. They ignored him, focusing their determination on getting the question out. Frisk liked that he didn't question how long it took, or how much they paused their writing, and how he didn't rush them or read it over their shoulder, like some people did.
The idea that his answer might not make things better was heavy in their stomach, making them nauseous. It was scary, and it made him seem scary. When they stood up from the ground, picking up the notepad to bring to him, they hesitated at the counter, where he was finishing up two plates with chips and baloney sandwiches. He paused, glancing at the notepad that they held against their chest, keeping it from him.
Was Frisk afraid of his reaction? Afraid that if they asked questions, or knew things he didn't want them to know, he'd be angry? They weren't afraid that he'd... hurt them. They were pretty sure they weren't, at least. But now that they had all these questions that seemed like they wouldn't have very nice answers, they realized that they didn't really know him at all- they'd come all this way into monster territory without even realizing it. Just assuming, or hoping he'd be happy to see them and want them to stay.
Daydreaming all that time since they met that it'd be so much nicer but without anything to base that on. Except that he was nice to them when they were all muddy, bruised and scraped up and burst into their house. Even if he was nice, and stayed only nice forever, that didn't mean they thought it through before they came, or that letting them stay wasn't just... selfish, for Frisk to ask for.
"Woah, hey," He held up his hands, palms-outwards as if to show he didn't mean any harm. "I uh- whatever's on your mind, no reason to look so-" He stopped short, his forced, tight smile faltering and Frisk thought he was maybe about to say, scared.
They managed to set the notepad on the counter, note-side-up, and slide it closer to him while they remained on the other side. When his eyelights moved over the words they'd written, he winced. The shadows under his eyes seemed heavier, and his grin was gone completely. His eyes seemed to darken, only to light up again a second later. His eyebrow-bones had pulled together and his expression settled into more of a grimace than even a pained smile. Like he'd just read what he was afraid of, and that kind of felt like an answer on its own.
"It- I think it's about suppertime. How about we sit down and eat?" He slid one plate to them, after placing the top slice of bread on. "And I can try to explain. If you want." Even though he was offering, Frisk could hear the reluctance in his voice. The dread. Like whatever he had to say, he thought they wouldn't like it.
Frisk took the plate and crossed the room, leaving the notepad on the counter. Sans glanced at it one last time as he followed behind, his own plate in hand, and the two sat across from each other at opposite ends of the couch. Frisk watching Sans, picking at their crust but not really eating it, and Sans looking back at Frisk, not even touching his sandwich. On the counter, the notepad- in the same careful handwriting as the note above it- read, W H E R E D I D Y O U G O T O D A Y ?