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Sans woke up to a pang of hunger, spent several minutes mediating between his bone-deep tiredness and growling stomach, teleported downstairs, grabbed a container of not-bad spaghetti and was back in the room before he looked at the empty bed and realised that Red was no-where to be seen.
The reason he hadn't eaten last night was that Red had fallen asleep on him.
Where the hell was he now?
“Red?” He grunted, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. That had been last night, right?
The underfell monster had been feeling unwell and had slept restlessly. Perhaps he'd gone home in the middle of the night. Surely he'd have left a note, though? There wasn't one on the bedside table, and the idea of going downstairs left Sans feeling exhausted. He searched the bedclothes for his phone.
He tried Red first, and inevitably it went straight to voicemail. Sans didn’t bother leaving a message. He thumbed to the only number he could ever get Red on.
It rang once, and a voice thundered through the speaker: “Good morning, other Sans! Don’t tell me how your night was.”
“Thanks for askin’. It was--”
“NO.”
Sans chuckled. “Alright, is Red with you? He was a bit off colour last night, and now he’s vanished.”
“He’s run off then. Don’t worry about it. He’s a cat, he likes to lick his wounds in private.”
“Any idea where he got to or what’s wrong with him?”
Silence. Sans checked the screen. Red’s brother had hung up. Ugh, Stupid brothers, stupid phones. Sans tossed the phone in his pocket and rolled back into bed. So Red didn’t trust him with whatever it was, and Edge wasn’t talking. Well fine, that’s the way Red was.
For a moment, Sans felt a rush of anger at Underfell for existing . Or well, for having existed. Who would Red be if it weren’t for… Heh. Red would probably be him . He rubbed his head and flung his arm onto the other side of the bed.
It hit a firm, warm lump under the covers.
Sans lay there, arm resting on the thing. It was smaller than the Annoying Dog, and it wasn’t shaped like a water bottle. It was breathing. He poked it.
“Myaarhw.”
That sounded distinctly feline.
Sans pulled up the sheet to reveal large, dilated eyes, two triangular ears flattened against a small, angular skull and the cutest pink nose a cat could sport. The orange tabby blinked its eyes at him slowly.
“Sorry,” Sans said, and rearranged the sheet so that the cat’s ears could poke up unhindered.
The cat probably had an owner. There was a niggling corner of Sans’ mind that wondered if Red had dumped a cat on him -- Red probably had a cat. He had cat food and litter in his laundry that he’d refused it explain. Perhaps Sans could take it if he wasn’t using it?
He shut his eyes and drifted off.
A knock forced his eyes open. That wasn’t Red’s knock. It was the weekend, what on earth was his brother doing pounding on the door! Sans put his arm over his eyes and snored loud enough to rattle his bones and shake the warm lump on his chest.
Whaa…? The cat. Right.
“Sans? Red? I’m coming in so no shenanigans.”
The door opened and Papyrus stuck his head in. His eye sockets narrowed in suspicion. “Red? Are you playing a trick? Because I have your number…”
Papyrus pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up his hand in the dingy light of Sans’ room.
“He’s vanished, bro.”
“Oh,” Papyrus said, and put away the phone. “Oh, oh no! Were we bad hosts? I-- but I made pancakes! If he isn’t here he can’t eat pancakes!”
Yep, that was his brother.
“You’re making my boyfriend pancakes? Should I be concerned?”
“Just because you’re a lazy slob doesn’t mean SOME of us can’t be good hosts.” Papyrus sighed and crossed his arms. “It’s very rude of him to not say goodbye.”
“More for us, eh?” Sans said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Red’ll have to have the awesome Papyrus’ special breakfast pancakes another day.”
“Correct you are,” Papyrus nodded, visibly trying to cheer himself up. “So I will need you down in the kitchen-- OH NO!”
Papyrus vanished from the doorway. Sans chuckled. His brother had probably left a pancake on the stove. However, he had a different problem. There was a cat on his chest. He couldn’t possibly move if there was a warm cat on his chest.
The cat opened its eyes and blinked lazily.
“I should get up,” Sans said.
The cat yawned and stretched out its front legs, showing off its sharp claws and mouth full of needles, and nuzzled into Sans’ chin.
Sans rolled his eyes. “You’re as bad as me,” he muttered. “Well, we can fix this.”
He fisted the sheets and teleported to the couch with a buzz of magic, cat, bedclothes and all. Craning his head to the side, he could see Papyrus taking the third plate, Red’s plate, from the table and taking it back to the kitchen.
“Leave the plate!” Sans called. “We got another guest!”
“Huh? Sans! That is not a guest!”
Sans pointed to the cat on top of his lap, which was doing its best impression of an asleep cat, nose tucked behind its tail. Sans ran a hand down its back, and heard a low purr. He smiled at the cat.
“Sure it is. But I can’t move yet, bro. Cat.”
“Where did the cat come from?”
“Dunno. We can’t have pancakes until the cat moves, though.”
Papyrus put Red’s plate back down with a click and stalked over to Sans, leaning down threateningly. He reached for the cat. With his gloves inches from the its short, orange fur, a content snore left its nose. Papyrus halted.
He threw his hands up.
“Augh, Sans! I can’t do it!”
“Sorry. Guess I’ll just have to eat here.”
Papyrus opened his mouth, but couldn’t find anything to say. He turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen. He was ridiculously fussy about where they ate now they had a new house, new couch and new carpet. Only the dining room and kitchen were permissible eating spaces according to Papyrus, even though Red had pointed out (quite rightly) that the bathroom and laundry were linoleum as well.
“Cat?” Sans asked the ball of fuzz on his chest. “Work on your puppy-dog eyes. I’m sure we can do this if we work together. You’re adorable after all.”
The cat let out a chirrup. Was that agreement?
There was a slam of the oven door as Papyrus put the pancakes in to keep them warm, followed by some muttering. His brother came back into the lounge brandishing his phone. He stuck it in front of Sans’ face so he could read the title of the webpage.
What to do if you find a lost cat
“I’m going to ring the veterinarian’s to see if they can scan the cat for a chip.”
The cat tensed, and dug its claws into the sheet. Sans hissed as its claws scraped against his clavicle. “Fine,” he sighed. The cat gave him a scandalised look and jumped off him. “Whoa!”
Sans caught the little rascal before it could escape. It hovered in the air, suspended by blue magic. Its paws flailed as if it was confused, and then it howled and twisted in the air, clawing and hissing in Sans’ direction.
“Look kitty, I’m not happy about this either, but we’ve gotta get you home alright?”
“I have procured a pillowcase!” Papyrus called, and held a pillowcase underneath the wriggling cat.
The cat went still, and stared at Sans with its ears turned back and its pupils dilated into enormous circles. It looked betrayed, as if Sans had told it he was going to drop it in a bath.
“Sorry cat, you’re cute, but I’ve got someone else to look for today. Don’t worry, my bro’ll get you home safe.”
There was a caterwaul as the little animal dropped towards the pillowcase. Its claws caught the edges of the fabric in a desperate scramble and it leapt towards Sans with wild eyes.
Sans tried to duck, and too late he realised he should have teleported.
The cat was upon him in a desperate flail of claws, and Sans felt its claws score the bone above his left eye. He shouted and pushed it away with his hands, and heard it thump against the other side of the couch.
Pain blossomed around his eye. Something was broken. His hands flew to the area but he didn’t touch, knowing it would hurt if he did. Papyrus yelped and knelt before him, hands glowing green and reaching for him with clumsy fingers.
He let Papyrus push his hands away from his eye and probe at it with green fingers. His brother’s magic tingled, and pain flared at briefly. Sans winced.
“You’re lucky,” Papyrus said in a forcibly calm voice. “The bone wasn’t pierced. You haven't lost any HP. But you need to stay still and not move for a while , no teleporting anywhere , because so help me if you aggravate this Sans…”
Papyrus’ voice lost its calm, and he looked genuinely afraid for a moment. Sans’ low health was no laughing matter, but they’d had scares before. Sans hated the fearful look he got from his brother. There wasn’t much green magic could do for him with his HP undamaged, and Papyrus withdrew his hands.
Strangely, the cat was still on the couch. It, too, looked terrified. Its fur was fluffed up like a puffer fish and it wouldn’t stop staring at him.
Papyrus helped Sans lie down on the couch and brought pancakes from the kitchen. He piled teatowels over the new couch and brought syrup and sugar and even ketchup.
“Try to eat it, okay?” he said.
Sans should, but he was feeling pretty queasy.
Papyrus turned to the cat. A small vibration of fear was going through its body.
“I do not appreciate what you did to my brother, but I am a skeleton of my word and I will see to it that you get home safely.”
He picked up the pillowcase, placed the shivering cat into it, and tied the opening in a knot.
Papyrus lingered at the door. “AND SANS? DON’T DO ANYTHING.”
“I ain’t planning on it.”
The cut stung like crazy, and even though Papyrus had assured him it hadn’t penetrated the bone he felt like his magic and his energy were draining out of his body through his eye. It was probably going to scar.
Heh.
He and Edge would have matching scars.
He must have fallen asleep, because he jolted awake to the door opening. The pancakes he hadn’t finished went spilling to the floor.
“Pap?” he muttered.
Wrong Pap. Red’s brother stared at him with narrowed eyesockets, and shut the door with a bang. He looked from Sans to the pancakes and waggled a finger at him.“The Great and Terrible Papyrus has come to look after you with my superior Sans-wrangling skills. Stay there!”
Had Papyrus called Edge over here? He must have, because his brother’s double was banging about in the kitchen. The fridge opened and shut, something was punched, and a few minutes later he came back out with a tomato and ketchup sandwich.
Edge halted in the living room doorway, his face suddenly blank. If he had skin, he’d be blanching. The taller skeleton slipped the sanwhich back into the kitchen and squatted by Sans’ side, peering at his eye like he was seeing it for the first time.
“Um… Edge?”
“He did that,” Edge said.
“A cat did this to me,” Sans said.
Edge sighed, and pulled himself onto the couch. Sans had to pull his legs up to make room.
“Yes. Sans. He gets… upset when he’s stuck in that form.” He rubbed his face. “I’m surprised he stuck around long enough to scratch you.”
“What?” Sans had missed something. “Stuck in what?”
Edge raised one scarred scarred eyebrow. “You had a stripy orange cat here this morning.”
“Yeah.”
Edge nodded. “The first time it happened we were kids. Sans was getting sick, we thought--” his eyes flicked down to the carpet. “It was bizarre. He started shaking and then…”
He shrugged.
“He was a cat.”
Sans closed his eyes as the truth caught up with him. “Red’s an orange tabby cat.”
“Yes. Did you call him cute? I… must advise against it.” Edge’s hands rose and ghosted over his scar.
Sans had called him cute, and Red had only trilled at him. “He is cute. But, er, Edge?”
Stars, Red must have been pissed when they tried to stuff him in that pillowcase. No, to actually strike Sans, he must have been terrified .
“What?” Edge demanded.
“We thought he was a lost cat. Papyrus took him to the vet.”
Edge went very, very still. Then, he took out his phone and stormed towards the door. “I’ll take care of it.”
Just before the door slid closed, he poked his head back inside and looked Sans in the eye.
“Don’t move a bone.”
The door closed.
Sans propped himself up against the arm of the couch, and the world took a dizzying dip around him. He didn’t care what Edge said. He should… get up and go to the vet. He got to his feet, but the ground slipped out from underneath him.
He just managed to fall back onto the relatively forgiving plush of the couch instead of the floor in front, but his head smacked against the arm of the couch, wrong side down.
“Don’t aggravate it!” Papyrus’ voice rang in his head.
“Didn’t mean to,” Sans hissed out in pain.
His skull really, really, ached, but it was his fault Red was in this situation and he should make an effort to fix it, but his head was ringing…
No, that was the phone.
His phone was charged? Oh right, he’d called Edge with it just that morning.
Sans fumbled with the phone in his pocket and answered the call. “Bro?”
“Are you hurt?” Papyrus demanded.
“Where’s Red? I mean, the cat.”
“We’re on our way home. He’s right here. Don’t do anything rash! Stay still and talk to him, okay?”
“Okay,” yeah, he could do that. Relief swamped him, there was a way he could help Red that didn’t involve teleporting anywhere. He heard a rustle as Papyrus fumbled with the phone and then Red was meowing in his ear.
“Hey babe, shit, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even clean your sock collection.”
There was a mew in response, and San grimaced. “I really can’t tell what you’re saying there bud but… heh. I’m alright, I’m gonna heal up fine so you don’t need to worry about me.”
There was a small grunt from the other end, and then a sort of growling, no, not growling. Purring .
It reminded him of something he’d heard Toriel say, when she’d run out of snail facts in a book of animal facts and moved onto other animals. A cat’s purr promotes healing and reduces stress. Toriel had thought it was adorable.
Sans smiled into the phone’s receiver.
“Look, I swear when you get home I’m gonna…” Going to what? “D’you wanna… d’you wanna come home, Red? If you--”
The purring increased in volume.
“Shit Red, I love you so fucking much.”
The first Sans knew of Papyrus and Red’s return was Red scrambling through the living room window and plopping down onto him, purring like a tractor. He tugged the small furry body down onto his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Red butted at the hand that restrained him and licked his thumb.
“So you’re gonna be like this for a couple of days, huh?”
The small furry body slid out of his grip and pushed his nose into Sans’ nasal ridge.
A big, goofy grin brightened Sans’ face. He pushed his nose back into Red. A scratchy cat tongue licked him in retaliation.
“Oh, you’re at a disadvantage here,” Sans smirked, and reached up to rub the side of Red’s neck. Red melted into the touch helplessly, his throat vibrating hard against Sans’ hand.
In the evening, when Sans gingerly lowered himself into bed, Red was with him. Red seemed to want to sleep about as much as a real cat, and nosed his way under the covers. A warm presence pressed at the magic of Sans’ abdomen and he giggled.
“Mrrow?” asked his belly.
“It’s fine,” Sans said, and meant it until a cold wet nose poked at his spine from the inside.
“Oh shit that tickles,” he spluttered. “Red, careful or I will toss you.”
Red responded by licking at the underside of one of his floating ribs.
Sans jolted as pain shook him. He grabbed onto Red, forcing himself not to squeeze. “Cut that out, your tongue’s rough!”
Red shrunk away from his grip, backing into his pelvis.
“Okay, that’s weird. Red, just stay still.”
After a little more squirming, Red did. He wriggled around a little more before stretching out beside Sans’ spine, head in his rib cage and tail poking out through one of the small holes at the bottom of his pelvis. This was a hundred times more pleasant than storing ketchup and hotdogs in his belly. His magic encased Red’s entire body, more than he’d ever been able to achieve by curling his limbs around the other monster.
He felt at peace.
Sans woke up in Red’s arms to a low rumble and a pleasant pressure against his left eyesocket on his face. Red was back to normal, at least visually. His eyes were closed, but there was a definite purr shaking the other skeleton’s neck.
Sans ran his fingers up the vertebrae, feeling the soothing vibrations under his hand. There was a green glow flickering to purr’s rhythm, sending healing magic into his left eye. Sans ran a hand up the back of Red’s head, rubbing over the top.
Red’s purring faltered, and came back stronger as he pushed his head back into Sans’ hand.
“This why you don’t stick around your bro until you’re completely un-catted, huh?” he asked.
“Shut up and scratch,” Red grumbled.