Chel Maxfield writes stories about the quiet moments that break people open and the fragile magic that holds them together. A lifelong storyteller and artist, she explores themes of loss, transformation, and connection across both fantasy and contemporary worlds. When she’s not writing, she’s usually sketching, crocheting, or rewatching her favorite animated films. She lives in San Francisco with too many notebooks and not enough shelf space.
Red snorted as he read Sans’ misspelled name on his cup of coffee.
“ ‘sands’, eh?”
They’d left The Parlor and were again walking the paths of the park, Red trying to make aimless conversation as he built up the nerve to break the question.
“it’s course, rough, and irritatin’,” Sans answered with a casual shrug. “guess the barista knows me.”
“y’ain’t irritating’,” Red growled. “barista’s a beach if they think so.”
“i sea what you did there,” Sans responded, ducking his head and refusing to react to the first part of what Red said. “she made a mistake, s’not shrimportant.”
“yeh shore do like takin’ the piss outta yerself,” Red muttered, taking a sip of his drink.
He was irritated, and he was taking that out on Sans when the other had done nothing to deserve it.
For some reason, Mutt’s teasing had gotten to him.
“you make it sound like i’m doin’ it on porpoise,” Sans said. He raised his coffee cup to his mouth, looking at it with an … almost wistful expression. “i just happen t’ be the biggest joke i know.”
Red frowned, watching the other from the corner of his eye socket. Annoyance gave way to concern as Sans took a sip of his drink, his smile wide and taut at the edges, only to rise again as Mutt’s words came to mind.
“don’t tell me you caught feelings for him!”
Red looked away, glaring at the concrete of the footpath.
It was a relief that his phone chimed at him at that moment, pulling him from his twisting thoughts.
“oh,” he said as he looked at the message. A reminder from a local astronomy group. “there’s a thing goin’ on this weekend, at the observatory. wanna go?”
“what kinda thing?” Sans asked, carefully treading a line between intrigue and disinterest. “i can’t pay for anythin’.”
“it’s a free event,” Red explained, holding out his phone so Sans could see the message. “they’re callin’ ‘em ‘star parties’. buncha people – mostly human, monsters ain’t really … interested in the stars – gettin’ t’gether t’ stargaze.” He felt the excitement building as he talked. He’d been wanting to go to one for … as long as he’d known about them.
No one else had wanted to go. Papyrus and Mutt weren’t interested at all, Black was too busy, and Blue didn’t have the patience to stargaze for hours. Edge would have gone, but Red had wanted to go with someone who would appreciate it.
Someone like Sans.
“th’ observatory ain’t open yet, but the grounds are. they let anybody show up, set up their telescopes,” Red continued, trying to keep his excitement contained. He tossed his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash bin. “sometimes they got speakers and shit. this month is pretty laid back, though.”
“i don’t have a telescope,” Sans said as he handed back the phone.
“that’s part of the beauty of it,” Red said as he turned off the screen of his phone and slid it into his pocket. “y’don’t need one. people’ll let yeh use theirs.”
Red could see Sans’ excitement, feel it coming off of him in waves. His eyelights were wide and bright, and his smile was quirked into something real.
Like he’d looked in the planetarium.
“i … ”
For a moment Red let himself hope.
“… can’t.”
Sans looked at the ground, excitement snuffed like a candle without oxygen, eyelights dim and unfocused.
“sorry,” he appended. “i can’t take the time off work.”
“why the fuck not?” he demanded in a low growl, unable to keep his anger from his voice.
Red floundered in his own emotional whiplash, dashed optimism and unresolved irritation combining into red-hot rage. He knew he was overreacting, knew that the nascent hopes he’d placed in maybe going to the event weren’t worth this reaction, but he couldn’t stop.
“i told ya, money’s tight right now,” Sans said as he cowered away from Red without making it obvious what he was doing.
“ ‘money’s tight’,” Red mocked. “so tight yeh can’t take one night off’ve work – but not tight enough t’ get over whatever hangup yeh got about humans t’ ask fer help?”
“it’s … complicated,” Sans said.
Red ignored him.
“it’d be easy t’ get yeh hired at my store. all i’d need t’ do is put in a good word fer yeh. the managers all like me.”
“i can’t,” Sans said, voice taking on a desperate edge. He backed away as Red pushed forward.
“and if money’s that fuckin’ tight, why ain’t Papyrus workin’?! and not his volunteer bullshit, but a job that actually pays?”
“he’s busy with schoo- ”
“ ‘busy with school’ my ass. my entire nonexistent ass, sans,” Red shouted. “he was gettin’ coffee with the others. i ain’t never seen him pass the bill on t’ someone else, so he probably paid for himself and everythin’!”
“it’s – ”
“if yeh say ‘it’s complicated’ again … pap and the swap bros were goin’ to a movie. he talked about buy-in’ popcorn. that shit ain’t cheap. why’s he doin’ that shit if money is so damn ‘tight’ that you can’t take one night off?”
“he deserves – ”
“and you don’t?!”
“you don’t underst- ”
“then fuckin’ explain it, sans!” Red shouted.
Silence fell between them, Sans staring at Red, mouth agape and at a loss for words. Red’s chest heaved as a strange calm settled over him, in the eye of his emotional storm.
Sans looked away first, hand tight around his half-empty to-go cup.
“it’s just the way it is,” he said after a quiet moment, voice quiet and tinged with shame. Shame and a melancholy sort of resignation. “it’s my responsibility. i’m s’posed to look after him, y’know?”
He glanced up at the sky, taking in the early twilight.
“i gotta get home, get ready for work,” he mumbled. “maybe we can do this again sometime?”
Sans looked around, orienting himself before figuring out the way to his apartment.
“sans wait, i – ” Red reached out and grabbed his arm, hand closing around his upper humerus.
His grip was tight, but he didn’t expect Sans to flinch away with a hiss, dropping his unfinished coffee on the ground. The lid fell off, splashing them both with mocha.
Red didn’t notice, letting go of Sans and holding his hands up defensively.
“shit i didn’t mean t’ … ”
He trailed off as realization set in.
He had hurt Sans, but he hadn’t injured him.
“yeh get that by ‘trippin’,’ too?” Red asked darkly.
Sans rubbed at his humerus, trying to ease the ache and refusing to look at Red.
“sans?”
“it’s nothin’,” Sans muttered. He closed his eyes, like he could click his heels three times and be back in Kansas. “it was an accident. i’m fine.”
“no y’ain’t,” Red said with a sigh. “but yeh ain’t gonna tell me what’s goin’ on. do yeh even tell papyrus what’s goin’ on, or do yeh leave him in the dark, too?”
Sans winced at his brother’s name, but didn’t defend himself. Didn’t do … anything but look at the slowly oozing puddle of coffee at his feet.
“is that why you an’ pap don’t get along?” Red asked. “is that why it seems like he can’t stand t’ be around you?”
He regretted the words immediately.
Sans crumbled, hugging himself with his arms and his carefully crafted facade collapsing into dust and ruin.
“i’m sorry,” he said in a whisper.
Like he had anything to apologize for.
“i didn’t mean … i … fuck,” Red said, fumbling as he watched his counterpart flounder, unable to take back what he’d said to cause it. “i … i gotta go.”
Without waiting for a response Red vanished, leaving Sans alone in the park.
Fuck.
—Sans—
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, unable to move or think or breathe, staring at the spilled coffee and replaying those final words in his head.
It was funny, in a way, how the sentiment wasn’t anything shocking. It wasn’t like it was a secret, how Papyrus felt about Sans. Everyone knew there was a rift between them. Everyone knew Papyrus didn’t like Sans.
If they didn’t, Papyrus made sure they found out.
And honestly, who could blame him? Sans was little more than a burden on his younger brother. Useless and lazy and unstable.
And Papyrus was … great. The greatest.
But somehow, hearing those words …
It broke something in Sans’ very Soul.
He can’t stand to be around you.
Sans picked up the discarded lid and cup, throwing both into the trash bin.
He wasn’t sure exactly how he’d fucked up this time, how he’d made Red so … angry. He’d never seen the other like that, all fury and spite.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and started his walk home.
It didn’t really matter how he’d fucked up. It was obvious that Red was done with him. He fought the urge to dig his beat up cellphone from his pocket, to text him an apology.
He couldn’t fix this with a “sorry” and a crying-face emoji, if his phone could even deal with those.
His one chance at a friend and he’d blown it by … being himself.
It’d be funny if it weren’t so fucking sad.
Sans sighed as he approached the apartment building. He tried the knob experimentally, uncertain if he’d locked it or not. He’d expected Papyrus to be home tonight, but if he was at a movie with Blue and Stretch …
Sans didn’t look forward to being locked out.
Luckily, he’d been too distracted to lock the door.
Without Papyrus around Sans felt like an intruder, the dark quiet of the apartment oppressive and stifling.
Sans wandered into the kitchen, pulling out a container of leftovers to heat up for himself. Spaghetti with meatballs, a classic Papyrus dish.
As the container spun on the microwave’s turntable, he realized he wouldn’t be able to eat it.
The smell of tomatoes and basil made his magic churn uncomfortably, a state that only worsened when he took the food out of the microwave.
“guess i’m not eatin’ tonight,” he muttered as he tried not to gag.
Fortunately, he knew someone who would gladly eat the pasta, so Papyrus would never know he’d skipped another meal.
Sans left the apartment, heading directly to the alleyway beside it, whistling through his teeth as he approached. He smiled when he saw who he was looking for.
“hey there, buddy,” Sans said softly as the small, white dog crawled out of the cardboard home Sans had built for him. “got some dinner for ya, if ya want it.”
He set the container down, taking a step back to let the dog investigate the food.
The dog had shown up months ago, starving and mangy. Sans wasn’t sure if it was the same “annoying hound” that had plagued Papyrus in the Underground, but he liked to imagine it was. He’d always liked the little beast and his antics, sneaking into their home and stealing bones when Paps wasn’t looking.
He’d been glad when he’d found the dog, even though he regretted that he couldn’t give him a better life. Sans had been very careful to keep the dog away from Papyrus, wary of his brother calling Animal Control.
The dog sniffed at the spaghetti before eagerly chowing down. Sans wasn’t sure pasta was necessarily good for dogs, but he hoped it wouldn’t hurt.
It was better than nothing, at least.
He made a mental note to stop at a butcher shop to ask for scraps sometime soon, and slumped against the wall.
“i fucked up again,” he told the dog as it ate. “red’s prob’ly never gonna talk to me again. i mean, it was only a matter of time, right? he asked me t’ go to this stargazing thing … honestly it sounded amazing. buncha people getting together to look at the stars’n’planets. too bad stars ain’t visible durin’ the day. i’d gladly give up a couple hours’ve sleep t’ see jupiter or saturn with my own eye socket.”
Sans sighed as the dog licked the container clean, then whined at him for more.
“sorry bud, that’s all i got,” he said with a sad shrug. He scratched the mutt’s head as it came over to him for a snuggle.
“i told red i couldn’t go,” he said with a dark chuckle. “he got angry. i don’t blame him … but it still hurts.”
The dog whined and lay down next to the skeleton, head on his lap. He yawned and closed his eyes, fed and safe.
“thanks bud,” Sans said with a small smile. “y’always know how to cheer a guy up.”
—Red—
Red sat at the table, looking at the notebook in front of him. The moment he’d gotten home he had started scribbling all the little observations he’d noticed about Sans.
Polite
Shy
Bruises – head and arm – won’t explain
Speaks highly of Pap – doesn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone?
On the opposite page were things he’d noticed about Papyrus.
Loud
Kind
Strong
Fashionable – always wearing something new
As he detailed out both Tale brothers, a picture began to emerge.
A very concerning picture that he didn’t want to admit.
But he couldn’t think of any other explanation.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up bad.
—Edge—
Edge took comfort in routine. He felt most secure when things were in their proper place, when things happened at the appropriate time.
It made it easy. to tell when something was wrong.
What he expected when he came home from working nights was to find Red asleep on the couch, snoring and drooling, some gory slasher flick playing for no one. Every night Red tried to wait up for Edge.
Every night he failed.
Edge would turn off the TV, wake his brother enough to see him to bed, then shower to wash the smell of the kitchen from his bones. Then he could go to bed, resting easy knowing everything was where it should be.
“BROTHER?” he asked when he opened the door to the apartment.
Far from being asleep, Red was wide awake, pacing manically. At his brother’s voice, Red turned and Edge saw his eye sockets were wide, the eyelights nearly nonexistent.
Confusion, concern, and worry surrounded him in a near-tangible aura.
“boss,” he breathed out in a relieved sigh.
Edge waited, nervous, as Red collected his thoughts, uncertain what to expect.
He began wondering where best to hide a body.
Red looked at him, eye sockets full of uncertainty and concern.
“somebody’s hurtin’ sans,” he said in a quiet rush, like he was afraid someone might overhear. “… and i think I know who.”
Red held the café door open for Sans, noting how hard his counterpart was shivering with a frown.
“y’shoulda worn a thicker coat,” Red commented as they took their place at the back of the queue. “yer shakin’ like a fuckin’ maraca.”
“it’s the s-song of my p-people,” Sans snarked back as his teeth chattered.
Red rolled his eyelights, debating if he should offer his coat to Sans, at least to help him warm back up.
“i’ll be fine once i get somethin’ t’ drink,” Sans said, responding to Red’s unasked question like he could read his damn mind.
Sans was looking up at the menu board, hugging himself in an attempt to subdue his shivering.
“RED!”
The loud, cheerful voice broke the general quiet of the café, and made Red tense up.
wait … what’s today?
He pulled out his phone to check and groaned.
Every other week the skeletons had a standing get together at The Parlor. Usually at least a couple of them would show.
Red had it marked on his calendar, he just hadn’t thought to look at it before he texted Sans.
He was a fucking moron.
Fuck.
He wondered if he could get away with not responding. If somehow Blue would think he had the wrong skeleton.
… right, like there’s more’n one of me.
Red turned toward Blue’s voice, plastering a smile on his face and bracing himself for who might be there.
Mutt and Stretch were looking between him and Sans. Stretch’s expression was openly curious, like he had found a particularly interesting shiny thing that he couldn’t wait to take apart.
Mutt, on the other hand, had a grin that was wide and sharp. It was a grin that Red knew all too well. He was in for a whole mountain of bullshit from that one.
Black had his skull in a ledger, coffee cup abandoned on the table in front of him. As usual he seemed to be working in his time off. Fucking workaholic.
Blue was standing and waving, excited and bright as always. He didn’t seem to notice (or care) that he was bothering other patrons with his antics.
And Papyrus …
Papyrus wasn’t looking at Red at all. Hs eyelights were focused on Sans with an expression that set Red’s instincts screaming, although he wasn’t sure what they were saying.
Then he seemed to notice Red looking at him and the expression was gone. Replaced with a grin as wide as Blue’s, unthreatening and kind.
Red almost doubted he had seen the look Papyrus had shot Sans.
Almost.
“RED!” Papyrus called out, causing more customers to glare at the table of skeletons. Red could hear some of them muttering complaints to one another. A couple got up and left, taking their drinks with them. “COME JOIN US!”
A pit formed in his core.
Red wanted to accept the invitation, but something about Papyrus was making him uneasy. He trusted his instincts, especially when he couldn’t figure out why they were freaking the fuck out.
He also didn’t want to abandon Sans. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t rude.
“go talk to them,” Sans said, so quiet the words were almost lost to the background murmur of the café.
Red spun on him, his full attention on the other in an instant.
Sans’ eyelight flickered at Red before returning to the menu boards that he was staring at, unblinking. “i can order if ya … if you tell me what you want. i actually got the g this time.”
Red stared at Sans, his mind a jumble as misfitting pieces of a puzzle started to resolve themselves, just a little.
“i ain’t ditchin’ ya,” Red growled. “if it got back t’ the boss i wouldn’t hear the end of it.”
Sans was still in his casual, lazy slouch – but it was no longer casual or lazy. Red hadn’t noticed before but Sans was … tense.
A wire, ready to snap with just a little more pressure.
Scared.
The line moved and Sans took a measured step forward with it, leaving Red a step behind him. He tipped his head back, looking at Red out of the corner of an eye socket.
“it’s not ditching if I tell ya-“ he flinched, changing the word partway through, “-ou … you to do it.”
His grin was too wide. Too tight at the edges.
“if you don’t you’ll spend the entire time glancing over at them like a schoolgirl with a crush. just go.”
“i ain’- !“ Red began. His words were cut off with the pop of displaced air that came with shortcuts. A heavy weight rested on his shoulders, nearly knocking him over.
“heya Red,” Mutt said in a lazy drawl, his eyelights fixed on Sans. “gonna introduce me t’ yer date?”
“git offa me!” Red snarled in response, shoving the other away. Red glared up at Mutt as he snarled, “ya already know sans, asshole.”
“weird,” Mutt said as he continued to leer at Sans, who had his back carefully to Red and the interloper. Red could see his head was cocked just a little, listening to their conversation. “i thought that was sans. i take it yer little ‘date’ went well, then?”
Red flinched at the barely concealed mockery in Mutt’s voice, tensing for half a soulbeat. He dug his wallet from his pocket and shoved it toward Sans.
“mocha. small. double chocolate. get it t’go.”
“sure,” Sans agreed with a nod. The tattered trifold disappearing into his own hoodie pocket.
Red grabbed the ring of Mutt’s collar to drag him back to the table with the others.
He’d almost figured out the damned, infuriating puzzle that was Sans.
He wasn’t about to let Mutt fuck it up.
—Sans—
Sans watched Red drag Mutt away with a half-hearted smile. His soul clenched with desperate want, and he turned away before he could meet anyone’s eyelights.
They were staring at him. He could feel it.
He clenched his fists in his hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to scratch at the back of his neck. Trying to ignore the way his bones prickled uncomfortably with shame and fear.
He repeated Red’s order to himself softly, a mantra. He didn’t want to mess it up.
“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”
Today had been enough of a disaster.
Sans should have never agreed to come out when he still had a visible bruise. Red had been tense since seeing it, even when he changed the subject. He kept glancing at the back of Sans’ hoodie, as if he could see the injury through the fabric.
Of course, Sans’ slip (heh) up of an explanation hadn’t helped.
His only excuse was being exhausted. Papyrus hadn’t let up on him after their fight, waking him early every day and sending him out to find a job.
(at least he was sleeping deeply enough that he didn’t have nightmares.)
He wasn’t getting enough sleep. He’d fallen back to his old go-to explanation: a smile and a pun about ice and slippers. He hadn’t updated it since they’d left the Underground.
He hadn’t needed to.
(had it really been that long since someone cared enough to ask?)
“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”
Sans allowed himself a glance at the table, watching as Red talked with the others. He looked serious, and Sans wondered what they were talking about.
Red shifted and Sans saw a hint of the red of Pap’s scarf. He looked away, focusing on the menu board, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.
Papyrus.
He wasn’t going to be happy that Sans was out with Red. Again.
He was supposed to be finding a job.
(a job Sans was increasingly thinking he wasn’t going to find.)
“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”
A solitary night job was one thing. Finding a solitary day job was futile. The few places that had even bothered to call him back hadn’t had positions open that were away from … people. Cashiering and waitstaff jobs were plentiful. Jobs that limited his outside contact were few.
He hadn’t even bothered mentioning the callbacks to Papyrus.
(why bother when he’d … )
“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”
He pulled his wallet from his pocket, counting out the G for two drinks so he wasn’t doing it at the counter. He left Red’s wallet where it was. He had been saving up, wanting to repay Red for his generosity.
He was able to pay.
He wanted to.
“Hello! Welcome to The Parlor,” the girl behind the register said. A cat monster, pale fur and (appropriately) a Cheshire grin. “What can I get you?”
“Uh … ” Sans stuttered as he forgot how to talk for a moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Two small mochas. Double chocolate. To go. Please.”
“Certainly!” Cheshire smiled. She grabbed two small cups and a pen. “And your name?”
The girl misheard, or he mumbled too much, a mistake Sans only caught when he watched her hand the cups to a coworker.
SANDS
He chuckled, knowing there was some rite of passage to having a barista spell your name wrong. He wandered over to the pickup window, trying to think of a good pun or joke to use with it.
He wondered if he could make Red laugh.
—Red—
Halfway back to the table, Red lost his nerve. He let go of Mutt’s collar and approached the table with a small wave.
His off hand was clenched tightly deep in his pocket.
“didn’t expect t’ see yeh all here,” he said. He grunted as Mutt leaned on him again, arms crossed over his head. He shoved at the taller skeleton, but Mutt seemed determined to annoy him.
“WE DID NOT EXPECT TO SEE YOU, EITHER!” Blue said with a frown. “YOU HAVEN’T BEEN AROUND MUCH.”
“yeah,” Stretch agreed. He leaned back, balancing precariously as he sipped on his coffee. “when was the last poker night? must’ve been at least a month ago. feels like it’s been more’n that.”
Papyrus was looking toward the registers, expression and demeanor neutral.
“been busy,” Red said with a shrug, desperately hoping no one asked for particulars.
“SO HAS EDGE,” Blue said as his frown deepened. He pointed accusingly at his alternate, who hadn’t stopped looking through the ledger in front of him. “YOU’RE STARTING TO BE AS BAD AS BLACK!”
“IT IS BECOMING A PROBLEM,” Papyrus agreed as he focused back on the conversation, turning his frown to the coffee mug in front of him. “I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO DISCUSS PUZZLE TECHNIQUES IN AGES.”
“I COULD TALK TO YOU ABOUT PUZZLE DESIGN!” Blue argued, eyes bright, excited by the idea.
“AND IF I WANT TO TALK ABOUT PUZZLES THAT CAN BE SOLVED WITH WIT ALONE, I WILL TALK TO YOU IMMEDIATELY,” Papyrus said with a bright smile.
Pride soothed, Blue returned the smile. He jumped when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.
“OH! STARS,” he said as he pulled it out to silence it. “I HADN’T REALIZED HOW LATE IT WAS. PAPYRUS? STRETCH? WE SHOULD GET READY TO GO. THE MOVIE IS STARTING SOON!”
“THEN WE SHOULD LEAVE POSTHASTE!” Papyrus said, standing and pulling a thick coat around his shoulders.
“WE CAN AT LEAST SAY OUR ‘GOODBYES,’ PAPYRUS,” Blue said with a laugh. “WE’RE NOT GOING TO MISS ANYTHING.”
“TO BE GREAT ONE MUST ALWAYS ARRIVE AT LEAST FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLY. NOT A MOMENT SOONER, NOR LATER!” Papyrus secured his scarf with a flourish.
Blue frowned, glancing toward the registers.
“PAPYRUS, ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO SAY ‘HI’ TO SA – “
“STRETCH! THE CINEMA ON FOURTH STREET, IF YOU WOULD?” Papyrus said sharply, making everyone jump. He blushed, bowing his head. “I’M SORRY. I DO NOT WISH TO MISS THE PREVIEWS.”
“don’t worry about it,” Stretch said as he patted Papyrus’ shoulder. He raised his hand in a wave. “see ya later, red. mutt.” He gave the latter a fist bump. Then he waved a hand in front of Black’s face before saying, “black.”
Before he could respond, Stretch had vanished with Blue and Papyrus.
Black scowled at the empty spot they left, the expression quickly deepening with rage.
“THEY DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO CLEAN UP AFTER THEMSELVES!”
Mutt laughed as he wandered around to take a seat next to his brother.
“they were runnin’ late for their show, bro. it’s not like you’ve never left a mess before. remember at … was it breadbasket?”
“HOW WAS I TO KNOW?!” Black responded, defensive and sharp. He hid behind his ledger, only succeeding in making Mutt laugh harder. “THE HUMAN WAITSTAFF HAD BUSSED TABLES NEAR US! I THOUGHT IT WAS PART OF THE OFFERED SERVICES!”
“nowhere that has ya self-serve drinks is gonna bus your tables for you, bro,” Mutt said as his chuckles died down. He wiped at an eye socket with his sleeve.
Red glanced around, checking to see how annoyed the other patrons of the café were at the table’s antics.
He didn’t particularly want to get banned from The Parlor because of the Swapfells.
Sans was leaning against the pick up counter, staring at the floor.
“so, red,” Mutt asked in a low drawl. He was circling the rim of his mug with a finger, leaning lazily on his other hand. His teeth were pulled up in a calculating grin. “whatcha doin’ with sansy?”
“gettin’ coffee,” Red shrugged, “same as you.”
“huh,” Mutt said, sitting up straighter. “i thought yer little ‘date’ happened a month ago?” he frowned. “i didn’t think you’d keep leadin’ him on like this. seems a bit cruel, doncha think?”
“i ain’t leadin’ him nowhere,” Red said, dismissing the accusation.
Mutt looked up, meeting Red’s eyelights. There was a glimmer of something predatory in his eye.
“don’t tell me you caught feelings for him!”
Red glanced behind him, checking that Sans wasn’t coming up to the table. He didn’t want to get caught in some liar-revealed sitcom trope.
Sans was where he’d been the last time Red had checked. Staring at the floor and waiting on their drinks.
“there’s somethin’ weird about him,” Red said as he turned back toward the other two. “i’m tryin’ t’ figure out what it is.”
Mutt frowned, and Black looked up with a raised brow.
“what’s there t’ figure out?” Mutt scoffed with a roll of his eyelights. “papyrus doesn’t like him. pa-py-rus. he likes everyone!”
Red shrugged, unable to do more. He didn’t have time to detail out all the inconsistencies between expectation and reality.
He wasn’t sure how to explain that Sans … didn’t seem to be a bad guy.
That Papyrus might be … wrong.
“there’s somethin’ weird,” Red said, shrugging again as he turned away, waving at the Swapfell brothers over his shoulder. “and i’m gonna figure out what.”
Sans had been forced to stop working his hot dog cart by the arrival of winter. As the first snows melted to slush people stopped going outdoors during the day, and it wasn’t profitable enough for the company to continue running his stand.
He’d secretly been grateful. He could use the extra time to catch up on sleep.
He was selfish.
Less than a week later Papyrus was in a panic about the decrease in household income. Sans had tried to tell him it was okay, they’d figure it out, but that had only drawn his brother’s ire.
Lazy.
They had talked about it a few times, and Sans had been looking around for another job as he could, but he hadn’t found anything yet. It was after the holidays, all of the seasonal work had dried up.
Papyrus had finally lost his patience.
He had dragged Sans out of bed early, barely giving him enough time to get dressed before locking him out.
“COME BACK WHEN YOU’VE FOUND A NEW JOB.”
Sans had been all over the city, filling out applications and hoping to hear back from someone.
Anyone.
He’d been busy.
He lost track of time.
Excuses.
He hadn’t meant to come home late.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!”
Sans kicked off his shoes in the entryway.
“i was lookin’ – looking for a new job, pap,” he explained softly.
Papyrus huffed, stepping in front of Sans to prevent him from getting further into the apartment.
Frustrated and tired, Sans glared up at his brother, only to see the orange tears in the corners of his eye sockets.
Guilt strangled his Soul.
He was such a shitty brother.
He was supposed to be back ten minutes ago. Papyrus must have been worried sick.
After all, with his low hp …
It wouldn’t take much.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL?”
Sans flinched as Papyrus’ voice broke on the last word, looking away.
There was a small pile of dust in the corner.
Strange, for how fastidious Pap was with the cleaning.
Sans closed his eye sockets with a soft sigh.
He didn’t have a good excuse. There was nothing he could say to explain this away. There was only the truth.
Papyrus would not like the truth.
“didn’t have my phone.”
Papyrus had always been fast. Agile. Even as a babybones he had been able to match Sans.
The only reason Sans could beat him was because he had better reaction time.
But between a couple hours of sleep and a day walking the city, he was slow.
Bright stars bloomed in his vision as his head hit the wall with a loud crack.
Far too slow.
Sans would have fallen as his senses came back, had Papyrus not been holding him up by one arm.
“BROTHER.”
His voice was calm, gentle, almost sweet, at odds with the way his hand tightened around Sans’ humerus.
“YOU KNOW YOU’RE TO HAVE YOUR PHONE WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES.”
Sans shrank away from Papyrus’ stern glare, wincing as his grip became painful.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU HAVE IT?”
“i-i-“ Papyrus’ grip tightened at Sans’ stuttering, cutting him off. He clenched his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain.
He couldn’t think of a way to deescalate the situation, and anything he said could set Papyrus off.
He closed his eyes, praying for a miracle.
“i … ” his voice broke, and he swallowed hard. The dry click was deafening to his ears.
He took a deep breath, trying again.
“… i left it.”
Papyrus’ eyesockets darkened, and his grip on Sans’ arm tightened enough that Sans worried he’d crack the bone.
He fought the whimper that threatened, a lump in his throat.
“WHY.”
Sans struggled with himself. His instincts telling him to fight back, to run, warring with the knowledge that he needed to not struggle.
Struggling would make it worse.
Papyrus’ had flexed.
“i forgot it,” Sans yelped. He looked frantically down the hallway, toward his room. “i was in a rush this morning!”
Orange flushed across Papyrus’ cheekbones as he realized what Sans meant.
As he remembered rushing his brother out of the apartment, not giving him enough time to get everything.
“OH!” He dropped Sans, covering his mouth with both hands. “OH DEAR.”
Sans shuffled back a step, inching his way down the hall.
“WELL!” Papyrus said after a moment. “I SUPPOSE THAT WAS PARTIALLY MY FAULT. … WELL … NO MATTER! THE PAST IS IN THE PAST AND TO BE GREAT WE MUST LOOK FORWARD TO THE FUTURE!” Papyrus flashed a bright smile down at Sans, the entire incident forgiven and forgotten. Sans returned the smile, smaller and with caution.
“WITH THE FUTURE IN MIND … WERE YOU ABLE TO FIND WORK, SANS?”
Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from Papyrus, unable to meet his brother’s eyelights.
“not yet,” he was ashamed to admit. “i applied everywhere i could. even talked to the company that owns the hot dog stand. they sell hot cocoa for the holidays.”
Papyrus sighed, rubbing at his nasal bone in frustration.
“THAT’S ALRIGHT, BROTHER. MY EXPECTATIONS WERE OBVIOUSLY TOO HIGH! I WAS HOLDING YOU TO MY OWN GREAT STANDARDS!” he laughed loudly, hands on his hips. “I NEVER SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED A LAZYBONES LIKE YOU TO FIND GAINFUL EMPLOYMENT IN A SINGLE DAY!”
Sans forced his smile wider, winking and pointing finger guns at Papyrus.
“got me there, bro. i’ll never be as cool as you.”
“EXACTLY! WE CANNOT ALL ACHIEVE THE SAME GREATNESS OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!”
Sans grinned at his brother, glad Papyrus had forgiven him so easily. For forgetting his phone, for coming home late, for not finding a job …
Paps was so cool.
“GO WASH UP FOR DINNER, SANS,” Papyrus said before heading into the kitchen. He opened the oven door and Sans was assaulted by the acrid smell of something burning. “IT’S NEARLY READY!”
“you got it, pap.”
It had been nearly two weeks since he and Red had exchanged numbers.
He had told Papyrus when he got home.
“WAIT FOR HIM TO TEXT FIRST,” Papyrus had suggested. “YOU DON’T WANT TO SEEM PATHETIC AND EAGER, AND I DON’T WANT YOU BOTHERING MY FRIENDS.”
Sans had waited.
And waited.
And w a i t e d .
He had held onto his fraying hope, patiently waiting for a call or a text. For something, some communication from Red.
Sans stared at his phone, lying on the mattress next to him.
By the end of the first week, Sans would’ve accepted a carrier pigeon.
But Red didn’t call. He didn’t text.
He didn’t send any pigeons.
Then, over their dinner of burnt mystery casserole, Papyrus had made a gentle suggestion.
“MAYBE RED WAS JUST BEING … NICE?”
And Sans felt the hope in his Soul fade under the weight of doubt and anxiety. He had explained his concern to Papyrus, but the other hadn’t had many words of comfort to share.
He flipped his phone open, saw no new messages, and closed it again.
He must have annoyed Red at the museum somehow.
But there were too many things to apologize for. He had done so many things wrong.
He’d talked too much, too obsessed with astronomy.
He’d focused on his own interests, not even asking Red what he wanted to do.
He had taken advantage, letting Red get him a ticket to the planetarium.
He was an idiot.
Sans frowned, as he opened his phone again, navigating to the text Red had sent him.
Red had traded numbers after all of that.
Why would he do that if he hadn’t meant it?
“text if ya wanna hang out.”
Why would he have said that if he hadn’t meant it.
“HE WAS PROBABLY AFRAID OF MAKING YOU ANGRY.”
Sans sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at his dark ceiling.
He wished he was brave enough to demand answers from Red.
The first outing could have been a prank, something Sans had accepted. Papyrus had warned him that Red’s sense of humor could be mean.
But …
There was no reason for him to ask again.
No reason to invite Sans to the museum.
If that had been part of the same prank …
… Red wasn’t that cruel.
Right?
Was Sans really so horrible that Red had decided to torment him?
“HE DOES JOKE ABOUT HIS STANDARDS BEING LOW, BUT … “
Sans sat up, playing with his phone idly as he thought.
Whether it was a prank or not didn’t matter. Maybe Red had been interested in getting to know him better after the coffee thing went well.
Well … he got what he asked for.
It was obvious when Sans thought about it. Red had just been too … nice to tell Sans that he wasn’t interested anymore.
Too nice to tell Sans the truth.
(To tell him that he was a stupid, worthless, lazy trash bag)
“… NOBODY HAS STANDARDS THAT LOW.”
Red had been trying to have a good time. Sans had ruined it by being ungrateful and selfish.
Once he’d gotten home, after giving Sans his number, Red would have had time to think out the day. He would have realized how shitty Sans had been. Maybe he had talked to Edge.
Maybe he’d talked to Papyrus. It would explain why he’d brought it up at dinner.
Maybe he didn’t tell anyone, ashamed to have even given Sans a chance.
Sans had been self-interested, self-centered, only caring about his own enjoyment.
He hadn’t even asked Red if he wanted to see anything else in the museum.
Sans resisted the urge to hurl his phone into the trash tornado, instead shoving it into his pocket. He didn’t need to break it further, it was already near-unusable.
It didn’t really matter. Nothing did.
The outcome had been decided and nothing could change it.
Red didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
He sighed, slumping against the wall.
Red probably regretted his decision to exchange numbers as soon as he sent a text to himself. Too late to take back.
He probably hoped Sans wouldn’t contact him.
Sans didn’t want to be annoying.
With a groan he rubbed at his eye sockets with the heels of his hands and focused on his breathing. Trying to calm down.
He didn’t want Papyrus to see he was upset. Didn’t want to bring his brother’s mood down like he always did.
If Papyrus was right – and he rarely wasn’t – then Red would text. If (when) he didn’t it was because he had more important things to do than entertain someone like Sans.
In all likelihood, he did have better things to do than talk to Sans.
In the end, Sans’ best option was to do … nothing.
Fortunately, that was the one thing he was good at.
Sans had been forced to stop working his hot dog cart by the arrival of winter. As the first snows melted to slush people stopped going outdoors during the day, and it wasn’t profitable enough for the company to continue running his stand.
He’d secretly been grateful. He could use the extra time to catch up on sleep.
He was selfish.
Less than a week later Papyrus was in a panic about the decrease in household income. Sans had tried to tell him it was okay, they’d figure it out, but that had only drawn his brother’s ire.
Lazy.
They had talked about it a few times, and Sans had been looking around for another job as he could, but he hadn’t found anything yet. It was after the holidays, all of the seasonal work had dried up.
Papyrus had finally lost his patience.
He had dragged Sans out of bed early, barely giving him enough time to get dressed before locking him out.
“COME BACK WHEN YOU’VE FOUND A NEW JOB.”
Sans had been all over the city, filling out applications and hoping to hear back from someone.
Anyone.
He’d been busy.
He lost track of time.
Excuses.
He hadn’t meant to come home late.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!”
Sans kicked off his shoes in the entryway.
“i was lookin’ – looking for a new job, pap,” he explained softly.
Papyrus huffed, stepping in front of Sans to prevent him from getting further into the apartment.
Frustrated and tired, Sans glared up at his brother, only to see the orange tears in the corners of his eye sockets.
Guilt strangled his Soul.
He was such a shitty brother.
He was supposed to be back ten minutes ago. Papyrus must have been worried sick.
After all, with his low hp …
It wouldn’t take much.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL?”
Sans flinched as Papyrus’ voice broke on the last word, looking away.
There was a small pile of dust in the corner.
Strange, for how fastidious Pap was with the cleaning.
Sans closed his eye sockets with a soft sigh.
He didn’t have a good excuse. There was nothing he could say to explain this away. There was only the truth.
Papyrus would not like the truth.
“didn’t have my phone.”
Papyrus had always been fast. Agile. Even as a babybones he had been able to match Sans.
The only reason Sans could beat him was because he had better reaction time.
But between a couple hours of sleep and a day walking the city, he was slow.
Bright stars bloomed in his vision as his head hit the wall with a loud crack.
Far too slow.
Sans would have fallen as his senses came back, had Papyrus not been holding him up by one arm.
“BROTHER.”
His voice was calm, gentle, almost sweet, at odds with the way his hand tightened around Sans’ humerus.
“YOU KNOW YOU’RE TO HAVE YOUR PHONE WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES.”
Sans shrank away from Papyrus’ stern glare, wincing as his grip became painful.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU HAVE IT?”
“i-i-“ Papyrus’ grip tightened at Sans’ stuttering, cutting him off. He clenched his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain.
He couldn’t think of a way to deescalate the situation, and anything he said could set Papyrus off.
He closed his eyes, praying for a miracle.
“i … ” his voice broke, and he swallowed hard. The dry click was deafening to his ears.
He took a deep breath, trying again.
“… i left it.”
Papyrus’ eyesockets darkened, and his grip on Sans’ arm tightened enough that Sans worried he’d crack the bone.
He fought the whimper that threatened, a lump in his throat.
“WHY.”
Sans struggled with himself. His instincts telling him to fight back, to run, warring with the knowledge that he needed to not struggle.
Struggling would make it worse.
Papyrus’ had flexed.
“i forgot it,” Sans yelped. He looked frantically down the hallway, toward his room. “i was in a rush this morning!”
Orange flushed across Papyrus’ cheekbones as he realized what Sans meant.
As he remembered rushing his brother out of the apartment, not giving him enough time to get everything.
“OH!” He dropped Sans, covering his mouth with both hands. “OH DEAR.”
Sans shuffled back a step, inching his way down the hall.
“WELL!” Papyrus said after a moment. “I SUPPOSE THAT WAS PARTIALLY MY FAULT. … WELL … NO MATTER! THE PAST IS IN THE PAST AND TO BE GREAT WE MUST LOOK FORWARD TO THE FUTURE!” Papyrus flashed a bright smile down at Sans, the entire incident forgiven and forgotten. Sans returned the smile, smaller and with caution.
“WITH THE FUTURE IN MIND … WERE YOU ABLE TO FIND WORK, SANS?”
Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from Papyrus, unable to meet his brother’s eyelights.
“not yet,” he was ashamed to admit. “i applied everywhere i could. even talked to the company that owns the hot dog stand. they sell hot cocoa for the holidays.”
Papyrus sighed, rubbing at his nasal bone in frustration.
“THAT’S ALRIGHT, BROTHER. MY EXPECTATIONS WERE OBVIOUSLY TOO HIGH! I WAS HOLDING YOU TO MY OWN GREAT STANDARDS!” he laughed loudly, hands on his hips. “I NEVER SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED A LAZYBONES LIKE YOU TO FIND GAINFUL EMPLOYMENT IN A SINGLE DAY!”
Sans forced his smile wider, winking and pointing finger guns at Papyrus.
“got me there, bro. i’ll never be as cool as you.”
“EXACTLY! WE CANNOT ALL ACHIEVE THE SAME GREATNESS OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!”
Sans grinned at his brother, glad Papyrus had forgiven him so easily. For forgetting his phone, for coming home late, for not finding a job …
Paps was so cool.
“GO WASH UP FOR DINNER, SANS,” Papyrus said before heading into the kitchen. He opened the oven door and Sans was assaulted by the acrid smell of something burning. “IT’S NEARLY READY!”
“you got it, pap.”
It had been nearly two weeks since he and Red had exchanged numbers.
He had told Papyrus when he got home.
“WAIT FOR HIM TO TEXT FIRST,” Papyrus had suggested. “YOU DON’T WANT TO SEEM PATHETIC AND EAGER, AND I DON’T WANT YOU BOTHERING MY FRIENDS.”
Sans had waited.
And waited.
And w a i t e d .
He had held onto his fraying hope, patiently waiting for a call or a text. For something, some communication from Red.
Sans stared at his phone, lying on the mattress next to him.
By the end of the first week, Sans would’ve accepted a carrier pigeon.
But Red didn’t call. He didn’t text.
He didn’t send any pigeons.
Then, over their dinner of burnt mystery casserole, Papyrus had made a gentle suggestion.
“MAYBE RED WAS JUST BEING … NICE?”
And Sans felt the hope in his Soul fade under the weight of doubt and anxiety. He had explained his concern to Papyrus, but the other hadn’t had many words of comfort to share.
He flipped his phone open, saw no new messages, and closed it again.
He must have annoyed Red at the museum somehow.
But there were too many things to apologize for. He had done so many things wrong.
He’d talked too much, too obsessed with astronomy.
He’d focused on his own interests, not even asking Red what he wanted to do.
He had taken advantage, letting Red get him a ticket to the planetarium.
He was an idiot.
Sans frowned, as he opened his phone again, navigating to the text Red had sent him.
Red had traded numbers after all of that.
Why would he do that if he hadn’t meant it?
“text if ya wanna hang out.”
Why would he have said that if he hadn’t meant it.
“HE WAS PROBABLY AFRAID OF MAKING YOU ANGRY.”
Sans sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at his dark ceiling.
He wished he was brave enough to demand answers from Red.
The first outing could have been a prank, something Sans had accepted. Papyrus had warned him that Red’s sense of humor could be mean.
But …
There was no reason for him to ask again.
No reason to invite Sans to the museum.
If that had been part of the same prank …
… Red wasn’t that cruel.
Right?
Was Sans really so horrible that Red had decided to torment him?
“HE DOES JOKE ABOUT HIS STANDARDS BEING LOW, BUT … “
Sans sat up, playing with his phone idly as he thought.
Whether it was a prank or not didn’t matter. Maybe Red had been interested in getting to know him better after the coffee thing went well.
Well … he got what he asked for.
It was obvious when Sans thought about it. Red had just been too … nice to tell Sans that he wasn’t interested anymore.
Too nice to tell Sans the truth.
(To tell him that he was a stupid, worthless, lazy trash bag)
“… NOBODY HAS STANDARDS THAT LOW.”
Red had been trying to have a good time. Sans had ruined it by being ungrateful and selfish.
Once he’d gotten home, after giving Sans his number, Red would have had time to think out the day. He would have realized how shitty Sans had been. Maybe he had talked to Edge.
Maybe he’d talked to Papyrus. It would explain why he’d brought it up at dinner.
Maybe he didn’t tell anyone, ashamed to have even given Sans a chance.
Sans had been self-interested, self-centered, only caring about his own enjoyment.
He hadn’t even asked Red if he wanted to see anything else in the museum.
Sans resisted the urge to hurl his phone into the trash tornado, instead shoving it into his pocket. He didn’t need to break it further, it was already near-unusable.
It didn’t really matter. Nothing did.
The outcome had been decided and nothing could change it.
Red didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
He sighed, slumping against the wall.
Red probably regretted his decision to exchange numbers as soon as he sent a text to himself. Too late to take back.
He probably hoped Sans wouldn’t contact him.
Sans didn’t want to be annoying.
With a groan he rubbed at his eye sockets with the heels of his hands and focused on his breathing. Trying to calm down.
He didn’t want Papyrus to see he was upset. Didn’t want to bring his brother’s mood down like he always did.
If Papyrus was right – and he rarely wasn’t – then Red would text. If (when) he didn’t it was because he had more important things to do than entertain someone like Sans.
In all likelihood, he did have better things to do than talk to Sans.
In the end, Sans’ best option was to do … nothing.
Fortunately, that was the one thing he was good at.
Sans’ pun surprised Red and for a moment all he could do was stare at his alternate. After his earlier attempt had fallen flat he had assumed Sans shared his brother’s hatred of wordplay.
He was even more surprised when Sans let out a short bark of laughter, both at his own joke and at Red’s expression. He quickly covered his mouth and attempted to stifle himself, a blue-grey blush coloring his cheekbones.
Red found he liked the sound of Sans’ laughter.
It was genuine and warm, low and melodic.
… He wanted to hear it more.
Red looked away from Sans, ignoring the way his own cheeks warmed. He collected himself as he focused on folding the map.
He had hoped Sans would share his interest in astronomy. It wasn’t too much of a surprise – all the other Sanses had similar interests. But not liking astronomy wouldn’t be the first time Sans was an outlier.
But if Red was going to spend more time with Sans in an attempt to figure out why the Tale brothers didn’t get along … he might as well enjoy himself.
And Red could live in the Planetarium and not grow tired of it.
He led the way to the astronomy wing, glancing back to catch Sans’ reaction to seeing it for the first time.
It was everything Red had hoped for.
Sans’ eyelights lit up, blindingly bright, and his smile stretched wide. He seemed taller, like he was standing up straighter.
Like he wasn’t trying to make himself as small as possible.
He was all but vibrating with excitement.
“c’mon,” Red said with a grin, his own excitement rising in response to Sans, like a contact high. He jerked his head in the direction fo the planet models. “let’s start over there.”
Sans didn’t need more encouragement than that, and he quickly lost himself in reading the informational placards and looking at the displays.
“it’s too bad we don’t have a scale model of the solar system in ebbot,” Sans said softly after he had spent some time staring at the little Earth model and its moon.
“whaddya mean?” Red asked. “these are scale, ain’t they?”
Sans waved a hand, “they’re scaled for size, not distance. It’s still cool, seeing the sheer difference between earth and jupiter, but it’s hard to get a good sense of how far away jupiter is from earth, y’know?”
“i dunno if I’d be up to that much walkin’,” Red said with an exaggerated yawn. “space is … spacious. does that sorta thing even exist?”
Sans nodded, his attention on a sign about the asteroid belt.
“there’s a bunch walkable and drivable scale models, all over the world. the sagan planet walk in ithaca, one in vienna, another in melbourne. there’s one in munich called the planet walk. the biggest is in sweden – it spans the whole country.”
Red wondered, but didn’t ask, how Sans knew about those when he didn’t know the local museum had a planetarium.
Sans mumbled something too soft for Red to hear, but he didn’t push for the other to repeat himself. Instead he let Sans get lost in the informational placards and models again, while he went over to the planetarium to see what was showing.
The next show started soon, and was one of Red’s favorites. While it tread into science fiction rather than fact, it was still built on sound science. Its focus was on what life might look like if humans ever left Earth to become star-farers. Beginning with more-realistic colonization of the moon and Mars, ending with distant future marvels like Dyson spheres and ring worlds. It even dove into the concepts of wormholes and warp drives, and how they might be created.
It was aspirational. Inspiring.
Red bought two tickets and went to find Sans, who was more-or-less where he’d been left.
“hey,” Red said as he approached, causing Sans to jump. Red gave an apologetic smile and held up the tickets. “they got a show startin’ in ten minutes. wanna find some seats?”
“show?” Sans asked. He frowned at the tickets in Red’s hand, beginning to curl in on himself again. “i … i don’t have the g … ”
“don’t worry about it,” Red said with a shrug and a wave of his hand. “it’s on me.”
Sans raised a brow bone at him, eyelights dimming with uncertainty.
“y-you … you mean it?” He asked.
“ya don’t have to make a big deal about it,” Red answered, annoyance bleeding into his tone. Sans flinched, shrinking away.
Red sighed, his annoyance fading to worry.
“it’s fine,” he said. “i wanna see it, an’ boss’d dust me if i just … abandoned ya.”
Sans still looked uneasy so Red added, “seriously. don’t worry about it.”
“o … okay,” Sans answered, and he looked up to meet Red’s eyelights with a shaky smile. “thanks.”
Red only glanced at Sans once during the show.
He’d had them sit in the back, away from everyone else. Their glowing eyelights bothered the human guests, something that Red had dealt with before.
It turned out to be a good decision.
Sans’ eyelights were glued to the whirling cosmos above them, bigger and brighter than Red had ever seen them.
They didn’t rival Blue’s cyan stars, they dwarfedthem.
The smile on his face was euphoric and real. Open with wonder and awe.
Red knew that was the same smile he’d worn when he had first been in this room, watching a film similar to this. The same smile he’d worn that first night on the surface, after the sun had set and the stars came out.
He tried to ignore the feelings Sans’ smile raised in his Soul.
They spent the entire afternoon in the astronomy wing.
Sans went from exhibit to exhibit, reading every placard over and over again.
Like he was trying to encode every detail to memory.
“what’d ya like most?” Red asked as they passed through the gift shop on their way out of the museum. When Sans didn’t answer he glanced back, only to find him holding a NASA mug, eyelights hazy. “sans?”
Sans jumped, putting the mug back and smiling at Red.
“i liked everything,” he said as he caught up to Red. “actually seeing the difference in size between earth and the gas giants was … awesome. puts everything into perspective, how tiny our planet is in the universe. and the pictures? from the surfaces of the moon and mars? from the surface of venus?! it’s amazing what humans have been able to accomplish without magic or a functional understanding of quantum theory. imagine what they’ll be able to do once they start allowing monsters into scientific fields!
“and the moon rock! that little piece of grey basalt is extraterrestrial! and humans brought it here through explosions and mad science! they decided to go to the moon, built a rocket, went there, and brought back a rock. that’s insane!
“and the setup dedicated to what the first mars colonies might look like? so cool.
“and the planetarium show … i can’t begin to describe it. the models of potential exoplanets were fantastic, and the projections of how we might terraform a planet?” Sans sighed happily. “i could spend forever exploring every bit of that wing and never get bored.”
Red laughed in agreement.
“getcha talkin’ about this stuff and ya never shut up, do ya?” Red teased.
He had been enjoying Sans’ exuberance and excitement. He had meant the comment to be playful. He had been the same way the first time he’d come to the museum, spending the whole night ranting to Edge about everything he’d seen.
He expected Sans to blush that pretty blue grey color, maybe be a little embarrassed. Maybe comment something back.
He didn’t expect Sans to deflate. To look away, ashamed, as he crumpled back into his usual slouch. For the bright lights of his eyes to dim, and his grin to fall back into the stiff mask he usually wore, the joy gone like it had never been there.
“s-sorry,” Sans stuttered, voice soft. “i don’t … i didn’t … i’m sorry.”
Red was lost in the wake of Sans’ sudden emotional shift, and he kicked himself for causing it.
“i didn’t mean it like that,” Red said carefully. “i get the same way. space is cool, y’know? sorry.”
Sans shrugged and shook his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
He turned away from Red, and Red let him. He waited as Sans collected himself.
He hid the pain he felt in his Soul when Sans finally turned around to face him, smiling mask in place.
Sans didn’t meet Red’s eyes.
“thanks … for inviting me,” he said. “i had a lot of fun.”
He glanced at the sky, awash in reds and pinks as the sun sank below the horizon.
“i should probably get back,” he said, more to himself than to Red. He looked back at the ground, grey-blue blush on his cheekbones. “i don’t wanna be a bother, after you brought me here, but … could i bum a ride home? i don’t have money for bus fare.”
“yeah, sure,” Red said, off balance from Sans’ mood swings. He offered his arm and pulled them both to the street outside the Tale brother’s apartment building as soon as Sans had grasped it.
Sans stepped back as soon as they were on the other side of the void.
“thanks,” he repeated as he turned to the building.
He took a single step forward, and then stopped. Red could see he was staring at one of the windows, could see his smile ticking away by fractions.
“hey,” Red said.
Sans let out a shuddering breath as he glanced back, eyes wide.
Red rubbed the back of his skull awkwardly as he looked away. “you, uh. ya got a phone, right?”
Sans frowned but nodded, turning fully as he dug it out of his pocket.
“we should exchange numbers,” Red said, the words coming out in a rush before he could regret them. “it’d make it easier to hang out.”
He watched as Sans’ expression did an emotional speed run. Confusion, anger, refusal, relief … acceptance. He held out his phone.
It was an old flip phone. Dumb, worn down, and well out of date. Between the scratches, the LCD burn, and a crack on the lower right that had killed a substantial number of pixels, the screen was nearly unreadable.
It looked a lot like the phone Red had used when they were still in the Underfell Underground, long since tossed for a nicer smartphone now that they were on the Surface.
He pushed aside his questions, although they bounced in his head like ping pong balls.
Why is Sans’ phone so … shit?
Doesn’t Papyrus have a fancy smart phone?
Red flipped through the options, sending himself a text message before handing the phone back to Sans.
“now we got each other’s numbers,” Red said with a lopsided grin, hoping it hid his uneasiness. “text if ya wanna hang out.”
Sans nodded, and the last thing Red said as he stepped through the void was his grin.
Wide and bright again, open and sincere.
The void closed in around him and Red was alone.
He collapsed in his bed, trying to quiet his racing thoughts and to ignore the feeling gnawing at his Soul.
He was no closer to understanding the rift between the Tale brothers.
—Sans—
Sans stared at the spot Red had been, conflicting emotions battling in his core.
He closed his eye sockets, focusing on his breathing to try to calm his confusion and anxiety.
He wanted to focus on the good parts of the day.
He looked up at the sky. The sun had finally set, but it was still too light to see all but the brightest stars.
He’d spent the entire day surrounded by the cosmos and their mystery.
He glanced at the phone in his hand, seeing the text message Red had sent himself. There wasn’t any content, just a single word.
hey
Red had given him his number.
Sans closed his phone and slid it into his pocket, smiling with relief.
He hadn’t fucked up.
Despite everything. Despite not having the money, despite not leaving the astronomy wing, despite talking too much …
The problem, Red decided, was that he was both too damn curious and too damn stubborn to ignore his curiosity.
It was going to get him killed someday.
It had been a week since he’d taken Sans to The Parlor, and he hadn’t been able to get the Tale skeleton out of his skull.
He didn’t really want to talk to Sans again. He didn’t have any objections to how the date had gone, but he still didn’t like Sans. Besides, he’d gone this long without interacting with his softer counterpart.
(He tried to tell himself that Sans probably wouldn’t notice or care that Red had ghosted him. Tried not to care that he didn’t know if it was true or not.)
But …
There was something about the Tale skeleton that bothered Red.
The disconnect between who Red thought Sans would be and the reality of the person he’d met, was driving him crazy.
He couldn’t square away the way Papyrus acted with the way Sans had been at the cafe.
It was possible Sans was manipulative. That the quiet, shy, polite skeleton he’d gotten coffee with didn’t exist. That it was an act, a facade.
But it had been so genuine. Genuine enough to not only fool Red, but the Judge as well.
Red couldn’t let it go. He had to know the truth or he’d drive himself insane.
Which is why he was here on his day off, standing in front of the Tale brothers’ apartment, trying to talk himself into/out of knocking on the door.
Goddamn his curiosity. He could only hope solving the riddle of the Tale skeletons would keep him alive.
“fuck it,” Red muttered as he finally knocked on the door.
All he needed to do was figure out how Sans had pissed off Papyrus. Once Red knew that he could go back to pretending the older brother didn’t exist.
“it ain’t cookie season so whatever you’re sellin’ we don’t need it,” Sans’ low rumble said as he opened the door. “religion, knives, vacuu- ”
He cut himself off as soon as he saw Red. A grey-blue blush crept onto his cheekbones as he mumbled, “uh … hey, red.”
Sans wasn’t wearing his hoodie, and he looked smaller without it – even wearing two shirts – a greying white tee over a black long sleeved top.
It didn’t help that he’d sort of … hunched in on himself when he saw Red.
The two stared at each other for a minute before canned laughter sounded on the TV, breaking the silence. Sans glanced into the apartment behind him.
“ … y-you want me to get papyrus?”
The question was enough to knock Red out of his analyzing stare.
“nah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to look casual. “got a free afternoon. wondered if ya wanted to go to the museum with me. everybody else is busy.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Black and Mutt were both at work, and Blue was on a shopping trip with Stretch. Edge had a night shift, so he was sleeping.
And after one trip to the museum with Papyrus, where the latter had complained the entire time they were in the astronomy wing … well, Red had decided not to go to the museum with just them. It just didn’t make sense when they’d both be miserable.
Sans had straightened a little, perking up at the offer, before wilting again as he thought of something.
“… i’m kinda low on g,” he admitted with an embarrassed shrug.
“it’s on me,” Red said with a wave of his hand. “th’ boss got a membership after blue dragged us there for a third time.”
“i don’t think – ” Sans started, but Red cut him off before he could finish the thought.
“i can get ya in on a guest pass. won’t cost either of us anythin’.”
Sans didn’t respond immediately, expression indecisive and torn. Red felt his grin slip in annoyance. He hadn’t expected this much of a fight.
(What’s he afraid of?)
Red pushed the thought from his skull.
He already had one mystery. He didn’t need another.
“ … okay,” Sans said after a moment. He glanced back into the apartment. “… yeah. sure. just … lemme grab my hoodie.”
Red nodded, watching as Sans disappeared back into the house. He leaned against the wall next to the door while he waited, not wanting to enter the apartment when he wasn’t invited.
Not wanting to have to explain to Papyrus what he was doing there.
With his luck he’d admit everything. The Tale brothers might not get along, but Papyrus would certainly defend his brother if he knew what Red had done. Was doing.
He could hear a rushed conversation, words indistinct under the sound of Mettaton revving a chainsaw. He wondered if he had time for a smoke, and he fiddled with the lighter in his pocket.
He’d begun to rifle through his inventory, searching for his cigarettes, when Sans emerged from the apartment in a rush. He looked around, almost frantic, before he caught sight of Red and his expression brightened with … relief.
(Did he think I left without him?)
Red suppressed the shudder that threatened as guilt crawled up his spine.
Sans closed the door and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, taking up a casual slouch.
“so … how we gettin’ there?”
“its too far to walk,” Red said with an exaggerated wink. “but i know a shortcut.”
Sans snorted and held out an arm without taking his hand from his pocket. As soon as Red had a grip on Sans’ humerus, he pulled them through the void.
—Sans—
Going through the void was easier when he had warning. But it was never easy.
Sans stumbled out of it on the other side, pushing away the weakness that always came from teleportation. It was worse lately, causing headaches and nausea.
He hoped he hid it well enough from Red. He didn’t want a repeat of his episode from last time.
(Red already thought he was weird. Better to not prove him right.)
He focused on the building in front of him.
Sans stared up at the ornate, two story building, feeling uncomfortably small and out of place as Red led him to the admissions line.
(You don’t belong here.) A voice hissed in his head.
It was right, of course. It always was. He didn’t belong here, He wasn’t … worthy of it.
Sans was too small. Too insignificant and stupid.
He couldn’t really appreciate this place.
And then he noticed the humans.
They were everywhere.
Even after moving to the Surface, Sans wasn’t used to them.
Papyrus hadn’t thought it … wise for Sans to be around humans much. It’s why he had pushed so hard for Sans to take a night security job where he would be the only one on shift.
It was lonely, but Sans agreed that Papyrus was right. He usually was.
He was cool like that.
Besides, humans made Sans uncomfortable at best.
A child broke into laughter nearby, the sound shrill and sudden and too much. Sans flinched, bumping into Red as he tried to get as far from it as possible.
Before Red could disapprove Sans backed up, apologizing softly.
“so,” Red said after the laughter died off and Sans began to relax again. “what d’ya wanna see first?”
Sans shrugged, “wherever you wanna go is fine.”
He didn’t want to admit that he had never been here.
Papyrus had told him about the museum, having visited numerous times with the others. He’d talked excitedly about the aquarium and butterfly forest, and had been completely fascinated by the skeletons and fossils in the natural history wing, eerie as it was.
Everything he’d talked about sounded interesting, but nothing truly caught Sans’ attention.
One of the cashiers waved at them, cutting off any response Red might have had.
Sans stayed a step behind his companion, feeling out of place as Red flirted with the receptionist, dropping a cheesy pick up line and calling her “sweetheart.” She responded by rolling her eyes and calling him a flirt, calling him by name. She printed out the tickets and handed them to Red with an informational pamphlet.
Sans didn’t feel any more comfortable inside the museum. The entrance was huge, opened up to the roof, allowing natural light to brighten the space through the skylights. To one side was the gift shop, to the other a little cafe.
Red motioned toward the latter, silently leading Sans to an unoccupied table.
(Couldn’t even make a simple decision.Go home. This place isn’t for trash like you.)
Sans should have just … chosen somewhere to go. One of the places Papyrus had been excited about. The aquarium sounded nice, at least …
As he took the seat next to Red he was going to say as much, only to be stopped when Red unfolded the pamphlet to reveal a map.
“upstairs is th’ natural history wing,” Red said, pointing it out. “it’s mostly taxidermies an’ fossils, but the geology section rocks.”
Sans wasn’t sure if the pun was intentional or not, and he didn’t want to risk Red hating them as much as Papyrus did.
It was mostly Red’s grin that let Sans feel comfortable enough to give a soft chuckle at the joke. Like he knew exactly what he said and meant it.
Red slumped a little at his lackluster response, and Sans tried to hide his elation at that.
‘red likes puns,” he whispered silently, almost too afraid to even think the words.
Red shrugged, pointing out other spots on the map.
“downstairs is th’ aquarium, it’s small but pretty interestin’. makes me wonder how humans stand swimmin’ in th’ ocean, with all that goin’ on in it. on this level they got the entrance to the rain forest an’ botanical wing here, and the planetarium here.”
“planetarium?” Sans echoed softly.
Papyrus had never mentioned a planetarium. He’d talked about every animal in the aquarium, at length, but he’d never so much as hinted that the museum had anything about the stars.
Of course, space was Sans’ interest, not Papyrus’.
Papyrus didn’t mention it because he likely never visited it. He’d always found Sans’ obsession with space … strange. Before Frisk had fallen he had treated it like a childish fascination.
Like he was just waiting for Sans to grow out of his stupid fantasies.
“yeah,” Red said, pointing to an area of the map. “whole wing on physics and space, too. y’ didn’t know?”
Sans shook his head, staring at the word under Red’s sharp phalange.
“i’ve never been here,” he admitted softly. “nobody told me, and i … ”
‘never bothered to look at what exhibits the museum had.’
(Why bother when you’d never visit?)
“… didn’t think to look into it.”
Red frowned at him, and he worried that his tone betrayed his thoughts. He did his best to shrug off the concern in the other’s expression.
“i’ve never had the g to come,” Sans said with a wide smile, waving his hands like he could brush away Red’s unease. “it never seemed important.”
Red’s frown only deepened, and Sans decided to stop while he was ahead. He looked back at the map, trying to figure out what to say.
He stared at the word still under Red’s finger.
Planetarium
He didn’t want to impose. He didn’t want to drag Red to do the things he wanted to do.
But … he had to be realistic.
This was his only chance to explore the museum. He doubted Red would bring him a second time, and he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t have the G to come on his own.
Between Papyrus’ school costs and all the other bills they had, Sans usually only had enough for bus fare if he needed it.
“can we start there?” he asked Red’s finger in a whisper, unwilling to meet the other’s eyelights.
(You’re asking for too much. Don’t be greedy.)
If there was only one thing he could see, he wanted it to be the planetarium. Everything else sounded cool – fascinating even – but he wouldn’t regret it if he never had the chance to see them. Not really.
Not like he’d regret knowing there was a section of the museum dedicated to the stars and never seeing it.
“yeah,” Red said, and Sans snapped his head up to see the other smiling at him with a toothy grin, almost as excited as he was. “it’s the best!”
‘red likes the stars.’
The thought was a hope, a tiny prayer to anyone listening. Sans could barely believe it.
Red looked at Mutt over his beer, considering the question. It was rhetorical but …
“which one? got at least three, depending’ on how y’ look ’t us. an’ i’d argue black is ’s much my clone as you are.”
“the one most like you,” Stretch said, stopping the impending argument in its tracks. He wasn’t drunk enough for philosophy. “sans.”
“how th’ fuck am i like him?!”
“y’said yourself that black is as much your clone as mutt. blue, too. ya ain’t a papyrus, so … sans.”
Red grunted in acceptance, then shook his head. “‘course not. He’s an ass.”
“a’ight, so no smooching’, but waddabout a date?” Mutt pressed, leaning forward. Red rolled his eyelights, not deigning to respond.
Mutt’s grin was sharp as he leaned back with a shrug. “s’like i thought, y’ don’t have the guts.”
“an’ what do i get if i did go on a date wit’ ‘im? my pride’s worth more’n braggin’ rights for that.”
Mutt’s grin shrank as he considered.
“we could make it more fair,” he said after a moment. “raise the stakes.”
“what ya got in mind?” Stretch asked.
“friendly competition,” Mutt said as he raised his glass with a grin. “we drink. until we can’t anymore. loser is whoever bows out first.”
“an’ whoever loses has t’ hangout with Sans,” Stretch agreed with a nod. “the other two get to mock them until they do it.”
Red didn’t need to beat Stretch to win, he only needed to outdrink Mutt – who was already several drinks in.
He agreed.
He hadn’t realized how outmatched his alcohol tolerance was against the other two.
—Red+Edge—
He felt sick.
Red hadn’t moved after collapsing in bed after his “date” with Sans. His brain cycling through the interaction trying to find anything wrong with the other’s behaviour.
There was nothing.
Sans was … Shy. Soft-spoken. Polite.
If he was putting on a front to gain sympathy, it was very nearly working.
He kept going back to one thing, over and over again.
Whenever the topic shifted to Papyrus, Sans looked sad. His eyelights would shrink and he’d talk a little softer for a few sentences. He only had good things to say about his brother, how proud he was, how hard Pap worked.
“He’s good at it … He’s been working really hard to … Helping people is what he’s best at … I’m proud of him.”
It was … uncomfortably sincere.
The image of Sans in his head was someone cruel. Someone who hurt others and enjoyed it. Someone who got off on manipulating people, taking a sick joy in the other’s pain.
It was directly at odds with the Sans he had spent the afternoon with.
Guilt, marrow deep and all consuming, filled him.
Sans had been polite and kind. Attentive! … even when Red was not.
For all that he told himself that Sans had to be manipulating him somehow …
Sans certainly seemed to have been making an honest attempt to get to know Red better. He’d put more effort into the “date” than Red had, certainly.
Red cursed himself.
He should never have accepted the bet.
He should have accepted defeat. Let Stretch and Mutt mock him for a few weeks.
He should have done anything but what he had done.
The weight of his sins kept him pinned to his mattress and the guilt kept him awake.
He felt sick.
Edge had been worried when Red came home from getting coffee, distracted and upset. He’d assumed it was either the other’s LV or depression acting up. There was no telling when those would pop up and cause problems.
So when Red hadn’t come out of his bedroom for dinner, Edge understood.
But when Edge checked later, none of the leftovers had been eaten.
And now it seemed Red was going to sleep through breakfast.
That just wouldn’t do.
There was a brisk knock at Red’s door, followed by Edge entering without waiting for permission.
Red was laying on his stomach face buried in a pillow. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.
Edge frowned down at his brother’s back, carefully keeping the concern from his expression or voice.
“WERE YOU PLANNING ON SPENDING ALL DAY IN BED?” Edge asked.
Red growled something that wasn’t quite words, muffled by the pillow. But otherwise he didn’t react.
Edge’s frown deepened and he sat next to Red.
“WHAT’S WRONG,” he asked, tone allowing no argument.
Red stilled, and Edge could almost hear him trying to think of a way out of the conversation.
Another misjudgment on Red’s tab: Edge would be worried if he just never left his room again.
He rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands.
Ashamed.
“ ‘m an idiot’n an asshole.”
“I AM AWARE,” Edge responded quickly, voice neutral. “THAT DOESN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION.”
Red sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this conversation.
Knowing how disgusted Edge was going to be when he learned what Red had done.
“i’m more’v an idiot when I’m drunk,” Red said. “makes me think bad ideas ‘re good ones.”
Edge waited patiently as Red gathered up more courage. Patience had always been the key to getting the elder brother to talk.
“OF COURSE YOU DID,” Edge said with a sigh. “EVEN IF MUTT DIDN’T CHEAT – WHICH HE LIKELY DID AND YOU ARE AN IDIOT FOR NOT NOTICING – BOTH OF THEM OBVIOUSLY HAVE MUCH HIGHER TOLERANCES THAN YOU. I DON’T BELIEVE I HAVE EVER SEEN MUTT SO MUCH AS TIPSY.
“I’M ALMOST AFRAID TO ASK BUT … WHAT DID YOU HAVE TO DO AS THE LOSER OF THIS BET?”
Red looked away, cheekbones beginning to grow red with shame.
Moment of truth.
“loser had t’ ask Sans out on a date,” he muttered. “that’s where i was yesterday.”
Edge stared at his brother in shock as the words fully sank in.
“THAT … IS A VERY CRUEL PRANK, BROTHER,” he said after a quiet moment. “EVEN FOR YOU.”
Red nodded in agreement, his shoulders hunching as the guilt of disappointing his brother settled on his already overburdened back.
“BUT … ”
Red startled, skull whipping up to meet Edge’s eyes. He hadn’t expected a ‘but’.
“WE DON’T KNOW WHAT CAUSED THE RIFT BETWEEN SANS AND PAPYRUS. THIS COULD BE AN OPPORTUNITY TO GAIN SOME PERSPECTIVE.”
Red considered it.
Of course he wondered what happened between the Tale brothers. Once it was obvious that they were the outliers, everyone did. If Red kept hanging out with Sans … they could exploit that for more information.
It’s what they would have done back home.
… But they weren’t in Underfell anymore.
Edge shrugged, expression uncertain.
“IT IS UP TO YOU, BROTHER,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.
Red groaned, dramatic and pitiful, as he fell backward onto the bed. Edge’s non-verdict wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But he supposed he got himself in this mess.
He would have to get himself out.
“NOW, I MUST BE OFF TO WORK AND YOU SHOULD EAT SOMETHING AND TAKE A SHOWER. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SLEPT IN YOUR DIRTY CLOTHES!” Edge offered a hand to help Red to his feet.
Red took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with a grunt. He kept himself from snarking back that he hadn’t slept in his clothes.
He hadn’t slept at all.
Edge didn’t need anything else to worry about.
“ARE YOU ALRIGHT,” Edge asked as they left Red’s room.
“yeah, boss,” Red answered, the answer leaving him as a sigh. “i will be.”
Sans leaned against his closed bedroom door, watching time tick by on his phone. Ready to go, in case Red actually showed up.
5:09
When Sans had told his brother about going out for coffee with Red, Papyrus had seemed to take it well. At least, once he understood that Sans hadn’t been bothering his friends.
“RED APPROACHED YOU?” Papyrus asked.
“yeah,” Sans said. “surprised me, too.”
But when he woke Sans up just before noon, he had been more upset than usual.
5:12
It had taken Sans a while to calm him down, get him to explain what he was upset about.
“I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU, BROTHER,” Papyrus said. “THAT RED MIGHT BE …PLAYING A CRUEL JOKE ON YOU.”
“you really think he’d do that?” Sans asked.
“RED HAS A … SHARP SENSE OF HUMOR,” Papyrus said with a frown. “ONE WHICH I FIND … CONFOUNDING.”
5:15
“DO NOT WORRY, BROTHER! I’M SURE YOU’RE RIGHT.”
5:21
“RED ISN’T THE SORT OF MONSTER TO PULL THAT SORT OF PRANK.”
5:28
Sans let his skull fall back against the door, allowing his cellphone to fall from his hand. It landed on the mattress with a soft thump.
He wondered if Papyrus had thought to make enough for him to eat dinner, too. Most of Sans’ paychecks went to the joint apartment fund. He didn’t have enough to go get takeout. Grillby would probably still let him carry a tab, but he’d opened his new place on the other side of Ebott. Too far for Sans to shortcut.
With a sigh, Sans pushed himself up, sliding into his easy smile and lazy slouch. Ready to admit that Papyrus was right.
It was just a cruel prank.
—Red—
5:32
Red stood outside the Tale brothers’ apartment, once again steeling his nerves.
He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do this.
But he was already half an hour late and the guilt was eating him. And the only ways to get out of this with his dignity attached were to either go through with it or tell Sans the truth.
And like hell was Red going to tell Sans the truth.
Red took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Shave-and-a-ha-
He jumped back, startled, when the door flew open before he finished knocking.
“RED!” Papyrus shouted, pulling the smaller skeleton into a tight hug that lifted him off the ground. “I HEAR YOU CAME TO TAKE MY LAZYBONES BROTHER ON A DATE!”
“uh, yeah,” Red said as he was placed back on the ground. He glanced into the apartment behind Papyrus as he regained his balance.
Sans was in the hallway entry, his expression pained for half a moment before it vanished under the facade of a cheery grin and friendly slouch.
“it’s not a date, papyrus,” Sans said as he walked to the door, carefully not looking at his brother.
“WELL! WHATEVER IT IS! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME, RED!” Papyrus said as he scooped Sans out of the apartment.
Sans turned to wave goodbye, but the door was already closed behind him. He shrugged and turned toward Red.
“hey, red,” he said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”
“sorry,” Red said, meeting Sans’ eyelights and hoping his guilt wasn’t obvious. “lost track of time.”
“it happens,” Sans said with another shrug.
Red was relieved. He had expected Sans to call him out on the clear lie. Even Papyrus would have seen through the flimsy excuse.
“so where we going?” Sans asked.
“i was thinkin’ the parlor?” Red suggested.
“cool,” Sans said. “we walking or – ”
He cut himself off as Red grabbed his humerus pulling him through space to land in the park across the street from the lounge cafe.
Sans stumbled as he left the void, tripping over the air.
“warn a guy next time,” he said, voice strained. His face was flushed a sickly grey color, and his eyelights were small, taking Red by surprise.
Being pulled through a shortcut unprepared wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t … that big of a deal. Even his absolute worst Red only suffered minor vertigo.
“y’ okay?” Red asked uncertainly.
“fine,” Sans said, although his voice shook. “just … need a minute.”
Red waited for Sans to catch his breath, the chalky grey fading back to bluish-white.
“sorry,” Sans said as he stood fully upright (as much as Sans ever stood “upright”) and flashed a smile at his counterpart. “i’m good now.”
Red nodded, then turned to lead the way to the cafe across the street.
The Parlor was co-owned by the two Swap Muffets – Underswap running it primarily during the day as a cafe, and Swapfell running it at night as a lounge. Red hadn’t been there much during the day – he wasn’t a fan of coffee – but it was a nice alternative to Grillby’s in the evenings.
Red held the door open for Sans, and the pair entered the cafe.
It was impressive how the dark color scheme – blacks and dark magentas with some lighter purples and whites – were inviting instead of oppressive. Red suspected it was because during the day the windows were all uncovered, letting the warmth and brightness of the sun into the cafe.
“know what y’want?” he asked as he stepped next to Sans, joining the short line.
Sans’ sockets were wide as he stared at the menu boards, eyelights dim and small.
Overwhelmed.
He shook his head and glanced nervously at Red.
“… i-i’ll just have whatever you’re gettin’,” he said with a dry swallow. Sans glanced around the restaurant. “uh … want me to get us a table?”
“sure,” Red said.
The less time actually spent together on this little outing, the better.
The pastries were plated and the drinks made quickly, and all too soon Red found himself sitting at a table with Sans.
The other had chosen the same table Red preferred; the one in a corner so he could have his back to the wall and his blindspots covered. A good view of the entire dining room, particularly the front door. Near the rear exit, in case someone entered that he didn’t like the look of.
He wondered why Sans had chosen this table, but figured it was probably random.
Sans held his drink, holding it in his hands and letting the warmth sink into his fingers.
“s-so … edge?” Sans said after a moment, breaking the silence. Red sat up straighter at the mention of his brother, alert and uneasy at the shift in conversation. Sans wasn’t looking at him as he spoke, instead staring blankly at the café dining room, watching the other monsters and few humans. “he’s working in a kitchen, right?”
Red blinked, taken off guard by the innocent question.
“yeah,” he said with a nod and a sharp smile. At least the topic was enjoyable. “he’s a junior chef, doin’ a bit of everythin’.”
“he looking for anything specific?” Sans asked, turning his attention back to the mug of coffee in his hands.
“nah,” Red said as he took a sip of his own. “just wants experience right now. he likes how busy the kitchen keeps ‘im.”
Sans hummed in acknowledgement before taking a careful sip of his drink.
“i’m surprised he didn’t go for police work like undyne and alpha. he was a royal guard, right?”
Red frowned at the question, and Sans backtracked before he could answer.
“i-i mean … uh … what about you? any aspirations beyond the excitement bagging groceries?”
“not really,” Red answered with a shrug, letting the unanswered question go. He didn’t really want to talk about Edge’s time in the guard, or his time as a sentry. Or about the Underground at all, really. Not with Sans. “anythin’ i’d enjoy takes too much work t’ get inta. ‘sides i wouldn’t get t’ see the boss as often. he’d miss me.”
A shadow passed over Sans’ face at the remark, there and gone before Red could fully read it.
“paps ’s doin’ public safety work, right?” Red asked after a quiet moment. “workin’ toward doin’ social work?”
“yeah,” Sans said. “he’s good at it. at helping people. i’m proud of him.”
Red nodded, although he was surprised to hear Sans say anything positive about his brother. He’d expected something different.
“how about you?” he asked.
Sans shrugged and took a bite of his pastry, swallowing before answering.
“paps is cool enough for both of us,” he said, although the enthusiasm in his voice didn’t quite reach his expression. “i’m good with my current gigs.”
“ ‘gigs’?” Red parroted with a frown. “i only knew about yer nightshift.”
“i work a couple other jobs,” Sans confirmed with a nod. “security’s the most stable, but I do odd jobs here’n’there. black’n’mutt bought hotdogs from me over the summer a couple times.”
Red snorted at the mental image of their most fastidious counterpart buying and eating a hot dog.
“ ’m surprised the tiny tyrant stooped to eatin’ a ‘dog,” he said with a chuckle.
“pretty sure he was trying to make sure i wasn’t poisoning them,” Sans said lightly, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. “i must’ve satisfied them. they only came by twice.”
Red’s smile faltered.
Sans was joking, but the joke hit a little too close to truth for comfort.
The Swapfell brothers were particularly skeptical and slow to trust.
Black was particularly cynical, distrusting of everyone and everything.
Most of all he was suspicious of Sans.
Sans took another sip of coffee, looking down at the shadow of his reflection in the liquid.
He asked another question. Something trivial and fairly impersonal. Something safe so if (when) it was asked back at him it would be easy to answer.
What do you like to do? What movies have you seen recently? How do you like the city?
An hour later and Sans had just finished saying something supportive and proud about Papyrus when Red’s phone chimed, startling them both.
“thought I turned that off,” Red muttered as he pulled the device from his pocket.
It was a text from Edge, asking when he’d be home.
“you done?” Sans asked as Red began to type out a reply. At Red’s confusion, Sans motioned toward the empty mugs and plates on the table. “you paid. i’ll bus.”
Red blinked at his counterpart before nodding. “yeah, ‘m done.”
Sans nodded and cleared the table while Red got up to wait outside.
Red gave Sans warning before shortcutting back to the Tale brothers’ doorstep. The other looked better when he stepped out of the void this time, mumbling a soft “thanks”.
Red turned to leave when Sans grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to meet his counterpart’s eyes, his own sockets dark. A warning growl rumbled low in his chest.
It vanished at Sans’ expression.
Sans’ eyelights were dim and wavering, and he looked away as soon as Red’s sockets were on him.
“th-thanks,” he said softly, cringing at the stutter. He took a deep breath before adding, “i had fun.”
“me too,” Red said, the rote response coming automatically. “maybe we could do it again sometime.”
“that’d be nice,” Sans agreed as he met Red’s eyelights with a soft, cautious smile. “t-talk to you later, then.”
“yeah,” Red said, already kicking himself mentally. He pulled his arm away from Sans hand and took a shortcut to his own front porch, a couple blocks away. He sighed as he opened the door, calling out to let Edge know he was home.
Red cursed every stars damned decision he had ever made that led to this point.
From fucking with Gaster’s machine to befriending the multiversal duplicates of he and his brother, every decision Red ever made had been a fucking mistake.
He had spent the entire night before trying to figure out a way out of the stupiddare.
Why had he even tried to outdrink the Swap Papyrii? All it got him was a hangover and being on the wrong side of the shittiest wager on the planet.
Red tried to convince himself that they’d forget about the bet soon. There was no need to actually go through with it … but he knew that wasn’t true. Edge had a mind like a steel trap, Red doubted the other Papyrii, Swaps or not, were any different.
Red might not have much, but he still had his pride.
He glanced back up at the door of Sans and Papyrus’ apartment.
Red liked Papyrus. The tall skeleton was a softer version of his own brother; kind-hearted, friendly, and optimistic to the point of naiveté. He was passionate and affectionate, full of boundless energy and warmth. Red had nothing bad to say about him.
He was what Edge should have been, would have been, had their universe not beaten the light out of him.
Red’s own counterpart, Sans, however … well it wasn’t that Red disliked Sans. He barely knew the Tale version of himself. Sans was distant and aloof, apparently uninterested in getting to know his alternates or the alternates of his brother. He hadn’t made any effort to get to know any of them. Even when the get togethers were at his own home, Sans avoided them.
If that was all, Red couldn’t care, figuring his alternate was just distrustful. He could understand that – at first he hadn’t wanted to get to know Black or Blue. But Sans and Papyrus … didn’t get along. When they were together they were tense, and if someone brought Sans up around Papyrus he would become upset.
Sans had obviously done something to cause the massive rift between the brothers, something so terrible Papyrus couldn’t forgive him. Something Sans would not or could not fix.
Red avoided Sans.
Everyone avoided Sans.
Red sighed, finally working up the courage to knock on the door.
Shave-and-a-haircut
The muffled sounds of someone getting up and shuffling footsteps getting closer helped Red relax some. He hadn’t wanted to explain his sudden interest to Papyrus. But he was always loud and exuberant, the opposite of what Red could hear through the door.
There were two knocks back (two-bits) before the door opened, revealing a rumpled Sans.
“hey red,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a yawn. “papyrus isn’t here. want me to tell him you stopped by?”
“actually,” Red said as he shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. He looked away from Sans. “i wanted t’ talk t’you.”
“really?” Sans asked as he tensed, “you … did Paps put you up to this? ”
“no, no!” Red said quickly, before he blushed and looked away. “i’m jus’ … i’m curious about ya, that’s all.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Red was curious about Sans. He wondered what the other had done to cause such a rift between him and his brother. It was a mystery, one Red found important (if only so he wouldn’t repeat Sans’ mistakes).
He wasn’t curious about Sans, though. Red didn’t care to get to know the other.
Sans made Papyrus uncomfortable. Papyrus found his presence upsetting.
That was enough of a reason for Red to keep his distance.
“anyway, I was thinkin’ we could go out, get some coffee. Talk or somethin’,” Red continued, rocking on his heels nervously.
Sans didn’t respond immediately, his face neutral and impassive.
“oh, uh … s-sure,” he said, a beat too late. He pushed himself off the door frame, settling into an easy slouch. “You wanna go now, or – ?”
“tomorrow,” Red said, cutting off Sans’ question. “around five?”
It was late for coffee but Sans worked a night shift. Any earlier would be too early.
“I can do that,” Sans said, settling back on his heels. “where’d’you wanna meet up?”
“i’ll come pick ya up,” Red said. He hadn’t thought of a place to go, yet.
“ ‘kay,” Sans shrugged. “sounds like a date.”
His eyelights had brightened a little, Red noticed.
He was … excited?
“…right,” Red said, debating between arguing that it most certainly was not a date and not acknowledging the statement at all. Guilt coiled in his marrow. “see ya tomorrow.”
He turned on his heels and stepped into a shortcut, landing in his bedroom with a soft thump.
Stars damn it all.
—SANS—
Sans leaned against the closed door, processing what had just happened. Going over the entire interaction, looking for the trick, the lie.
Red came over to talk to Sans. Not Papyrus.
Their alternates didn’t come by their apartment anymore. Sans made them uncomfortable. He was too awkward and uneasy around them. He made the room feel tense and unwelcoming.
Red had come over to talk to Sans. About getting together for some coffee.
Red wanted to talk. To Sans.
He didn’t know what to think.
Deep in his Soul he felt a twinge of not-pain that almost made him cry out.
He stifled the urge, smothering his cry to a whimper.
Sans pushed off of the door, stepping through a shortcut and landing on his bare mattress with a soft whump. He shoved the twinge of feeling in his soul to the side, unwilling to entertain it for long.
He had to be rational about this.
There were two options – either Red was being sincere, or he was being a jackass.
Sans checked the time on his phone, noting it was still a couple hours before Papyrus got home. Long enough for him to have a nap.
Sans closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly. As his consciousness faded he let himself hope that Red wouldn’t stand him up tomorrow.
But as the end of the month neared, my soul lightened. By the time I left my housekeeping job on the thirty-first I felt like I was walking on air.
Halloween revelers were already on the streets as I slid my phone into my pocket and began my walk home. It was still early, and most seemed to be meeting up to go elsewhere in the city.
I passed girls with animal ears and guys with fake blood. Nothing particularly complex or impressive. Most seemed to be broke college kids putting in minimal effort. Just enough that they’d get cheap drinks at the bars and clubs around town.
Not that I blamed them. I’d do the same, if Apollo ever held similar promotions.
I glared at the still out-of-order elevator and headed up the stairs, prioritizing my mental to-do list.
I didn’t need to worry about trick-or-treaters at my apartment. While there were a couple kids int eh building they usually went to the suburbs. They got a better candy haul there than in the city,
“Hey Sans, I’m home!” I called out as I kicked off my shoes and put my bag down. I connected my phone to the speaker in my kitchen, turning on my Halloween mix to get into a spooky mood.
My Halloween tradition was simple: Spend the night watching family-oriented “spooky” movies with Abby’s kids. We’d done it for years.
It was one of my absolute favorite traditions. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I hummed along to This Is Halloween as I pulled out the sofa bed and gathered all the blankets and pillows I owned.
“You’re home early,” Sans said behind me as I surveyed the couch, trying to visualize a fort.
“Need to get you a friggin’ bell,” I muttered without any heat. I’d mostly become accustomed tot he skeleton popping into existence whenever he wanted.
“I never work Halloween night,” I explained as I took down a photo to hang up a spare sheet. My goal was something like a tent, but it wasn’t working out quite as well as I had hoped. “It’s one of the few nights I make sure to take off every year. People get … weird on Halloween. Being out late is a bad idea.”
Fortunately my newest boss had easily granted the request.
It hadn’t hurt that I was willing to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. New Year’s Eve, too, if he needed me.
The sheet wouldn’t stay up, slipping off the hook whenever I put any tension on it. I growled at it in frustration, as though that would make it stay put.
The song switched to an electro-swing cover of Spooky Scary Skeletons, and I froze.
I didn’t know how monsters felt about Halloween.
More importantly, I didn’t know how Sans felt about Halloween.
Or how the very real skeleton felt about songs referencing his … species? Race? … as being “spooky scary.”
Spooky scary skeletons
Send shivers down your spine
I glanced at Sans, uncertain what to expect.
He was staring at the speaker with a blank, dark eyed stare. Completely unreadable.
I dropped the sheet and fumbled my phone out of my pocket, attempting to stop the music.
“By the way,” I said in a transparent attempt to distract the skeleton from the … offensive? … song. “I forgot to warn you. My niece – and maybe Jamie, but probably not – is gonna be spending the night.”
I finally paused the music, cutting off the song mid-verse. I looked at Sans with an apologetic frown, feeling guilty for springing this on him at the last minute. “I completely forgot about it. To talk to you about it, I mean. I didn’t think about it. This is just … what I do every year.”
Sans shrugged, turning back to my mostly-unassembled couch fort. “That’s what this is for?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod as I turned back to the mess of blankets. “I never remember how to put together a good fort. It usually ends up more of a pillow nest than anything else.”
I picked up the sheet again, reaching to try hanging it again, when a knock sounded at the door.
I glanced at my phone, “That’s probably my sister.”
Sans had vanished again by the time I opened the door and was nearly bowled over by forty pounds of tiny human.
“TRICK OR TREAT AUNT T!”
I recovered my balance quickly, sweeping my niece into a spinning hug.
“Trick or treat?” I asked, my tone playful. Already I felt lighter than I had in weeks. “Hmm … I choose … TRICK! OMNOMNOMNOM!”
I buried my face against the little girl’s stomach, playfully chomping at her and holding her tight.
“No! I’m not candy!” she squealed, squirming and wriggling in an attempt to get out of my arms. “Mama! Help!”
I glanced over at Abby, still in the doorway and watching us with a find smile.
“Help?” she asked, and I grinned widely when I saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. “I suppose I could.”
She took Chloe from my arms and held her gently before doing the exact same thing I had. The little girl erupted into screams and giggles again, gasping out a happy, “I’m not candy!”
I turned to Xander and James, talking in hushed stones in the doorway.
“Didn’t know you two were vampires. Since when do you need an invite to come in?” I asked.
James was first, arms wide in an offer of a hug. I accepted, returning the affection eagerly. Xander followed, holding a small pink backpack I assumed was for Chloe.
“Overnight bag?” I asked as I pulled away from James. Without waiting for an answer I motioned at the couch. “It can go over there.”
I held my hands behind my back to keep myself from ruffling my nephew’s carefully-styled hair. “You staying the night?”
“Nah,” James said, “Friend is having a party. Gonna crash there.”
“Sounds fun,” I said, before giving him a stern look. “Make good choices.”
“I already got that talk from mom and dad,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
“And now you’ve heard it from your aunt as well,” I chuckled as I gave him a quick squeeze. “You’ve got a lot of people who care about you.”
I turned back to my sister and niece, finally taking in their costumes.
“Pirates?” I asked, surprised. Last month Chloe had been super excited to tell me she was going to be a fairy princess.
“Preschool politics,” Abby explained with a sigh. “Another girl in Clo’s class claimed princess rights.”
“Cassie,” Chloe spat, voice as spiteful as a four year old cold be. “She said she was gonna be a princess and none of the other girls could. Miss Tiana said she couldn’t do that, but she said her mommy said she could. Everybody else agreed, so I had to, too.”
I nodded along, completely lost. I vaguely knew Miss Tiana was Chloe’s teacher, but I knew nothing about her classmates. I had no idea how this Cassie girl was able to control the entire preschool class.
“So you decided to be a pirate?” I asked my niece.
“I’m a fairy pirate queen!” Chloe pronounced in an excited shout as she turned around to show me her back.
Sure enough she was wearing sparkly red wings with her pirate getup.
My heart melted.
She was adorable.
“You’re a queen!” I cried out, covering my mouth in mock horror. “Forgive my insolence, your majesty, I had not realized!”
I bowed deeply toward her, and she burst into giggles again.
“We should get going,” Abby said with a glance at her watch. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to ask your aunt, Clo?”
At the reminder Chloe turned to me, her eyes widening and her lips pouting.
She was far too good at that face,
“Aunt T! Come trick or treat with us! Please, please, pleeeeeeeeease!”
Even with Abby’s earlier warning, I had assumed my niece only wanted me along as an afterthought. Touched, I knelt down next to her, looking her in the eye.
“I don’t have a costume,” I said, waving at my clothes. “I won’t match.”
“Momma brought you a costume!” Chloe said brightly.
I whipped my attention to my sister, who raised her hands.
“No pressure,” she said. “Chloe has been insisting you come with us. It was her idea to find you a costume.”
I blinked in surprise, shocked the little girl had considered I would want a costume if I was going out.
Of course, Abby might have mentioned something, to prod her daughter along. She had a hard time disappointing the little girl,.
Not that I blamed her. I would give Chloe on the silver platter if I could.
I glanced at the sad blanket fort with a frown.
“Well … ” I said as I turned back to Chloe. She was staring at me with wide, pleading eyes that made my heart ache.
That’s cheating.
“If I go with you, we won’t have a blanket fort,” I said carefully. “I won’t have time to set it up. If you really want me to come with you, I will. It’s up to you. Do I go trick or treating with you, or do we have a cuddle fort to sleep in?”
Chloe bit her lip as she thought through the options. It was a big decision.
Abby waved at Xander, who pulled a plastic shopping bag from his laptop case. My costume, presumably.
“Trick or treat!” Chloe shouted after a moment of indecision. “Come trick or treat with us!”
“Alright,” I agreed with a nod.
Xander helped me to my feet and handed me the costume. I glanced inside the bag and felt a flood of relief. It would cover my arms and legs. I shot Abby a grateful smile as I looked back down to Chloe.
“I’ll go get dressed and let my friend know I’m leaving for a while. Then we can go, okay?”
She threw herself at me again with a scream of excitement.
I gave her a tight squeeze back.
“You’re coming with us?” James asked from the kitchen, where he’d been raiding my fridge.
“Of course,” I snorted. “I can’t say no to the pirate queen. Find anything good to eat?”
He had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
I laughed and headed to my room to change.
“Give me ten and I’ll be ready to go.”
The costume was easy to put on, and it fit me surprisingly well. It was still an off-the-rack outfit, though, and the material was thin. I ended up putting on an undershirt so I wouldn’t freeze.
It only looked a little weird.
“Hey Sans, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked after knocking on his door.
A brief pause and he opened the door, glancing down at my costume for half a second before meeting my eye.
“I’m going with Abby to trick or treat,” I said with an acknowledging wave at my costume. “Wanted to let you know and give you my cell in case you needed me.”
I held the device out to him but he didn’t take it, his eyelights darting toward the living room. I could hear Abby talking in hushed tones, probably reminding Chloe of the rules for the night.
“If you need me you can call or text Abby,” I said, pushing the phone toward him.
He shrugged, taking the phone from my hand and disappearing it into his hoodie pocket.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I said. “Chloe is staying the night. We’ll be sleeping in the living room.”
I took a step back, intending to end the conversation there.
Sans stopped me.
“Can I use magic to … do somethin’?”
I blinked, trying to remember if I had ever said he couldn’t use magic. I thought I had been careful to not give him any commands.
Then I realized it was likely a “preset” command. One given to all monsters once they’d been collared.
Now that I thought about it, I vaguely remembered something like that coming up during the debates about Monster Rights.
Magic was disallowed unless specific permission was obtained.
The thought was heavy and sour at the back of my throat.
Everything I had read said magic was an important part of a monster’s identity. As unique and integral to their sense of self as style or fashion was to humans.
Forbidding it felt like forbidding … music. Art.
“Of course,” I said with a nod. “You know the rules: nothing permanent, nothing that causes damage.”
Sans rolled his eyelights at me, but his smile softened.
“Thanks.”
We went trick or treating in my mother’s neighborhood.
I knew Abby had chosen the particular suburb, at least partly, to rub her family in our mother’s face.
Mom had never accepted Chloe as her granddaughter. So whenever she had a chance Abby threw that in our mother’s face.
“Look at this adorable, perfect little girl you could have spoiled if you weren’t such a horrid bitch. But because you are a horrible human being, you only get to see her under my terms.”
It always worked.
I grinned as I walked Chloe up to the door, excited to see my mother’s face when she realized who was knocking.
Unfortunately, my mother didn’t answer her own door anymore.
Instead the rabbit woman was handing out candy this year.
With how quickly she opened the door, I suspected it was her only task for tonight,
“Trick or treat!” Chloe shouted in sing-song. She held out her treat bucket with a bright smile.
“Happy Halloween!” the rabbit woman said in response. Her voice was gentle and warm, but I could hear the sadness in it.
Sadness and exhaustion.
She knelt to let Chloe choose her own candy.
“Thank you!” Chloe said as she carefully chose one of the fun-sized candies (of course my mother would go cheap) and took a step back. She frowned, looking between the doorway, me, and the monstress.
“Umm,” she said, suddenly shy and uncertain, “This is my grammas house! Is she here? I wanna show her my costume!”
She said the last bit with a spin, the better to show how adorable she was.
The monster woman startled, looking down at Chloe before glancing at me. Recognition brightened her features as she remembered who I was.
She didn’t speak, which made me frown. Knowing my mother she likely wasn’t allowed to speak most of the time.
I glared into the dark house. If it was silence my mother wanted …
“You mind if I call for her?” I asked, signing as I spoke. The movements were awkward with the candy bucket on my arm, but I managed. “If you want to, you can use Hands. I understand it well enough.”
She looked at the bowl of candy in her hands before giving me an apologetic shrug. She stepped back, allowing me to cross the threshold of the house.
“Hey mom!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth, “Your daughters are here to say Happy Halloween!”
I took a step back. Either she’d answer or not and I didn’t care much either way.
“Is everything okay?” Abby asked as she came up to the porch. “You’ve been up here a while.”
I nodded and knelt down next to Chloe.
“Clo wanted to see her grandma,” I explained. I wrapped my niece in a tight hug. “And I wanted to show off the cutest pirate queen in the whole wide world.”
Chloe giggled and Abby nodded. Something passed over her features as she looked at the monster woman, there and gone in an instant. She held her hand out to the woman.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Abby, her older daughter, although she probably doesn’t call me that.” She paused for a moment, and I could see her considering her next words. “Is my mother treating you alright?”
The woman looked between my sister’s hand and the candy bowl. I took the dish so she could take Abby’s hand.
Inside the house I heard someone shuffling around.
I guess my mother was going to acknowledge our existences tonight.
Wonderful.
The rabbit monster gave Abby a careful, curt nod in response before quickly pulling the candy bowl back. She looked behind her uneasily.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Abby said, her voice soft, “are you from Snowdin?”
The monstress jumped, head whipping around to meet Abby’s gaze. After a moment she nodded, blinking back tears that had suddenly appeared in her dark eyes.
Then my mother appeared, cutting off the nascent conversation.
I had to bite back my laughter at her appearance.
Over whatever nightwear she had on she was wearing a long flowing robe. Faux fur lined the edges.
She looked like the villain from a crime drama. The ‘grieving widow’ whose rich husband had suddenly died under ‘mysterious, tragic circumstances.’
She looked ridiculous.
“Theresa!” she gasped as she saw me. “What are you doing here?”
“What else?” I asked, voice flat. I lifted my treat bucket to her before motioning to Chloe and Abby beside me. “Trick or Treat.”
My mother spared Abby a single glance before giving her a dismissive “tsk.”
Then she saw Chloe,
“And what are you supposed to be,” she demanded.
She seemed unimpressed, possibly disgusted, by my niece’s costume. Which meant she was either blind or acting.
Although if I remembered my own childhood, my mother had never been a fan of “non-feminine” Halloween costumes on girls. I was some flavor of princess every year.
“I’m the fairy pirate queen,” Chloe announced, puffing out her chest. She wasn’t put off at all by my mother’s tone. “Momma and Aunt T and Daddy and Jamie are my pirate crew!
The line of my mother’s mouth flatted further at the mention of the rest of Abby’s family.
“I thought you might want to see your granddaughter in her Halloween costume,” Abby said, her voice holding a veiled threat.
Be nice.
“It’s a very nice costume,” my mother spat, words not matching her tone. “Although I suppose it would be, with a … parent like you.”
“Thank you,” Abby said, ignoring the insult. She glanced at her watch. “We need to keep going. It was … I hope you’re doing well, mother.”
She took Chloe’s hand, gently leading the little girl away from the porch and leaving me behind.
“Wait! I need a picture!” My mother called out, frantic, as she disappeared into her house.
I snorted before turning to the rabbit woman with a smile. “Thank you. Happy Halloween.”
“Happy Halloween,” she responded with a genuine grin that allowed her buck teeth to peek into existence. She glanced behind her before setting down eh bowl of candy.
“Thank you.” she signed.
“Of course. You still have my number?”
She nodded as she picked the candy bowl back up.
“Good. Call if you need anything. Or text, if you can get access to a cellphone.”
I stepped off the porch to catch up with Abby and Xander, not sparing another glance at the house even as my mother screamed at us to come back.
It probably would have worked better if she used Abby’s name.
Chloe lasted a lot longer than I thought she would.
Somehow she had more stamina in her four year old body than the adults with her.
Except for me. I could have gone all night if the kid wanted to.
But I knew I was an outlier.
As it was, by the time Abby called it quits Chloe was spent. She was getting piggyback rides between houses.
I was pretty sure she nodded off during them.
Abby had let us go as long as she could, but she and Xander had plans. They needed to get me home so they could go enjoy their anniversary.
The ride from the suburbs to my apartment was quiet. Abby and Xander were talking softly to one another, too quiet to make out. James had put his earbuds in before he’d even got into the van, and was busy on his phone.
Chloe had passed out as soon as she was buckled into her booster seat.
After texting Sans to let him know we were on our way back I leaned against the window. I watched as the lawns and picket fences faded into the concrete, steel, and glass of the city.
It was the first time I let myself slow down and think in … weeks.
It was nice.
Xander parked in the yellow “no parking” zone in front of my building and Chloe blinked herself awake. I unbuckled and hopped out of the van, turning to meet Abby’s hug.
“Thank you for coming with us,” she whispered into my ear. “You didn’t have to.”
“I had fun,” I said as we parted. I was about to thank her for the costume when James punched my arm.
I yelped, more out of surprise than pain. I frowned at him as I punched where he’d hit.
It hadn’t been hard, there wasn’t even a mark, but it had come as a surprise.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic wince. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Was just trying to get your attention.”
“Use your words,” I said with a laugh, too confused to be angry. “What do you need so badly you’d punch me?
“Sorry,” he repeated, turning red with embarrassment.
I sighed, and as I thought about it I realized it wasn’t too weird. Kid had earbuds in most of the time, and his friends probably did too. It’d be difficult to get their attention verbally.
A gentle pat or poke would have sufficed, but he was a teenage boy. Punches were more aggressive.
More “manly.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled at him, letting him know I wasn’t hurt or angry.
“Jamie,” I said as I put my hands on his shoulders. “You are an idiot and I love you. I hope you have fun at your party, If you need anything, give me a call. Doesn’t matter why or how late.”
He gave me a small nod, not quite meeting my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. If I need anything I’ll call.”
“Good,” I said. I took my hands off his shoulders and held out a fist.
He bumped it with his own as Chloe climbed out of the van to wrap her arms around his legs in a goodbye hug.
“You’re sure this is alright?” Abby asked me again.
I looked at her, confused by the concern.
“We do this every year, Abs,” I said, eyebrow raised. “It has always been great. I can handle the tiny terror for one night, and I’ll call if anything happens.”
I thought for a moment before adding, “If anything, this year is less of a problem. There’ll be another adult around to keep an eye on her.”
Not that Sans necessarily would, but it was an option.
I wondered if he even liked kids.
“Right,” Abyy said, her expression softening as I eased her worries. “We’ll be back to pick her up tomorrow. If we’re not, we’ll have James come get her. Four at the latest.”
“Sounds great,” I told her. It was tradition and I loved it. “I planned for this. My shift doesn’t start until five, and my commute’s only ten minutes. Even if you’re not back before I have to leave, Sans’ll be around.”
“We should have gotten you a roommate years ago,” Xander chuckled. I hadn’t noticed him get out of the van.
He walked by me to pick Chloe up and paste a big kiss on each of her cheeks.
“Goodnight princess! Have fun with Aunt T, and don’t be too much trouble.”
“G’night daddy!” She shouted, directly in his ear. “Bye momma!”
Xander glanced at me as he put her down, expression guilty.
Chloe had her second wind, which meant I was in for a long night.
Before I could say anything else she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the apartment building.
I half-turned back to wave to my sister.
“Bye Abby!” I called out with a chuckle. “Bye Xander! Have fun on your date!
I had expected to find the living room more-or-less how I had left it: Disorganized, with blankets and pillows everywhere.
So when I walked into my apartment and found a proper pillow fort, I was more than a little surprised.
Sans had … made a blanket fort for me.
Sans had made a blanket fort for me … and he was the fucking king of sleep overs.
It was awesome.
He’d built a support structure out of what looked like gigantic, almost cartoon-like, femurs. They pulsed with an inner light, and radiated with violet completely different from their white core. Glow-in-the-dark fluorescence, dim next to the fairy lights that he’d wrapped around them.
(Did I have fairy lights in the apartment before? Maybe I had them in the outside storage … )
That must have been why he had requested to use magic. He wanted to make this.
I looked down at my niece. Her eyes were wide, sparkling in the fairy light. She was dumbstruck.
I couldn’t blame her. I was, too.
I reached out to touch one of the support beam bones curious what it would feel like.
“I wouldn’t touch it,” Sans warned from behind me. I spun to find him in the kitchen, watching as we gaped at his handiwork. “There’s a reason I put ’em up away from the couch.”
Chloe made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a shriek as she threw herself at the skeleton.
He stumbled, nearly falling down as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Did-you-do-this?” she asked, speaking so quickly her words blurred together. Sans wobbled, struggling to keep his balance and looking distinctly uncomfortable with his predicament. “It’s-so-cool-and-so-pretty-and-I’ve-never-seen-anything-like-it!”
She took a deep breath and spun to look at the blanket fort again.
“Not even Robin has such cool forts! And they have the best forts! This is even better! I didn’t know there was a better!” she jumped up and down, arms waving in excitement, “Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!”
She spun back to look at him, her eager excitement fading to confusion.
“Who are you? Are you and Aunt T dating? Momma says that Aunt T – “
“Clo,” I said, cutting the little girl off. I tried to ignore how I’d enjoyed Sans’ being flustered by my nieces love. I would have gladly let her keep going, but she brought me into it.
I didn’t want to know what my sister said about my (lack of a) love life. Or my social life in general.
“You know the rules,” I said with a sigh. “What are you supposed to do before you touch someone?”
Chloe’s face fell, and she took a step away from Sans.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she looked at the floor, wringing her hands together. “I’m sorry for hugging you without asking first.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she was looking up at him, stars in her eyes. Guilt replaced with wonder.
“It’s just so cool! I got super excited! You made such an awesome fort! And I didn’t think to ask you because it’s so cool and I just – “
She struggled, unable to find the words to convey her emotions, letting out an over-stimulated shriek instead.
Sans let out a soft laugh.
“S’okay kiddo,” he said, smiling down at her. “Thanks.”
“Chloe, go get into your jammies,” I ordered gently, smiling at my niece. I leaned into the fort to grab her backpack. “I’ll mark us some popcorn, and we can go through your treats.”
“Kay!” she said, all smiles and sunshine.
She took her backpack and hugged it close to her chest before turning back to Sans with her brightest smile.
“Thank you, mister skeleton!”
Before either of us could react she was down the hall, slamming the bathroom door shut.
I snorted, smiling after her.
Then I turned to Sans with a frown.
“Not that I’m ungrateful,” I said as I waved at the palatial blanket fort. “But if I shouldn’t touch these, is Chloe gonna be safe around them?”
Sans nodded. “She’ll be fine. Kids don’t have enough bad karma to get hurt … “
I glanced at the bones again, uneasy.
“I don’t actually know if they’ll … work outside of an encounter,” Sans added after a minute.
“And now I’m more confused,” I admitted as I walked by him to get a bag of microwave popcorn from the pantry. “You’re saying Chloe won’t get hurt because she doesn’t have … bad karma?”
Sans nodded and I turned away from him to set the microwave.
“But I might get hurt because I do have bad karma.”
“More or less,” he said with a shrug. “Figured it was less likely you’d run into them than the kid. Any of my other constructs’d hurt both of you.”
I hadn’t really thought Sans would hurt a child. He hadn’t been an ideal housemate, or even a good houseguest, but he wasn’t malicious.
“Why,” I asked. “Why go through the trouble at all?”
“Wanted to,” he said as he pushed himself away from the counter, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “She seems like a good kid. Figured she deserved a pillow fort.”
“Well, you just volunteered yourself for pillow fort duty in the future,” I said with a snort. “This setup is really cool. I’m gonna need to get a picture of it for Abby.”
I opened the microwave as the popping slowed down.
I bounced the bag to coat the popcorn with the “real butter flavoring.” I was pretty sure the flavoring was not, in fact, “real butter.
But it was delicious, so I didn’t really care.
“You really made her night, thank you.”
I turned as I tore the bag open, holding it away from myself so I wouldn’t get a face full of steam.
Sans was already gone.
I shrugged, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl. I’d make sure to thank him again in the morning.
For now I had an adorable fairy pirate to take care of.
It took Chloe the entire run of Corpse Bride to sort out her bucket of candy. She struggled to put any in the “save” pile, putting most of her haul in an “eat immediately” mountain.
As I worked on getting the next movie to play she opened her first treat. I was glad I had chosen a bunch of films in advance.
“Up next: Casper! Then you gotta go brush your teeth,” I told her as I started the film.
Chloe nodded, and I was pretty sure we both knew she wasn’t going to brush her teeth tonight.
Abby probably knew, too.
But I had to at least pretend to be a responsible adult.
As the opening scene played I got up to rinse out the popcorn bowl. Chloe climbed further into the pillow fort, going all the way to the back. She sat cross-legged, candy bucket between her thighs, watching the movie as she ate a Rice Krispie Treat.
When I climbed in next to her she snuggled close to my side, moving the candy bucket between us.
“You can have one,” she whispered, like we were in a movie theater. “If you want.”
“That’s very generous of you, my queen,” I whispered back. “Thank you!”
I dug through the options before finding a fun-size packet of m&m’s. I opened it with a grin, taking out a single candy.
I popped the candy into my mouth and held the rest of the envelope out to Chloe, who looked at me, confused.
“You said I could eat one,” I said pointing to my mouth, “So I ate one.”
She frowned at me for a moment before she caught on to the joke. She pushed my hand back toward me, giggling. “It’s for you! You can have as much as you want!”
“As much as I want?” I repeated, looking at the bucket with an impish grin. “I’ll take you up on that!”
I lifted the bucket up to my face, loudly saying “OMNOMNOM” and play fighting Chloe as she giggled and tried to pull it back.
“Aunt T! No! Not all of it!” she squealed.
Pounding from my ceiling reminded me of the time. I winced and hushed my niece, handing her the bucket.
“Sorry Mr. Nguyen,” I whispered toward the ceiling as we both fought off the giggles. “My niece is just too adorable.”
I gently tickled Chloe’s sides, making her giggle softly. She cuddled into my side and we fell into silence as we watched the movie and ate candy together.
Tiny Raven 