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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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FIC: Assessing the Situation (baon)

Summary: Edge needs a mental health assessment to continue working at the Embassy.

Notes: I am not a therapist! My psych classes were a long time ago and I only have my own experiences to go by, so hey, take all of this with a grain of salt.Please be aware there is a mention of past suicidal thoughts, in case you find that triggering.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Therapy, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

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Doctor Lee resisted the urge to recross her legs as she watched her newest patient prowl around her office, inspecting the shelves. The tall skeleton’s expression did not change as he looked at the books and knickknacks, the plants that required only the barest minimum of sunlight and care.

“Your office is very clean,” Edge announced.

“I’ll be sure to relay that to the janitorial staff,” Lee said lightly. “I’m certain they’ll appreciate it.” She’d meant it as somewhat humorous, but Edge only nodded solemnly and still did not sit.

Doctor Lee only waited. Technically, her sessions usually ran about an hour, give or take depending on a patient’s current state or breakthrough. She took on patients sparingly and could afford to be discriminating. Her PhD was in Psychology and these days she was considering adding a clinical Monster psych specializing in PTSD to her resume. It was certainly an underappreciated field, though in her opinion, not an unexpected one. Monsters coming to the surface after years of being imprisoned under a Mountain, most for their entire lifetime and there were certain other issues that she couldn’t have begun to guess at when the first call came into her office. Alternate universes with alternate people, each with their own surrounding phenomenon; it was something of a learning experience for all of them. But trauma was trauma, that was her specialty and it was admittedly satisfying helping these people, and yes, they were people despite what a few of her so-called colleagues thought. These people needed her kind of help and Lee was here to offer it, in whatever way their trauma necessitated.

If that meant waiting for a skeleton whose visible scars likely only scratched the surface of his internal ones to become comfortable enough to sit, she would.

Doctor Lee had been in practice for some time before Monsters arrived in Ebott. She was middle-aged and in good health. Her carefully coiffed hair was naturally gray. No one would call her beautiful, but often she’d been described as handsome, with a certain resemblance to Glenn Close.

Considering resemblances, Edge held only the slightest to his husband. His appearance was likely a little disconcerting to most humans when they first met him, startling to people who weren’t used to seeing bare skulls outside of a filmed production. It was an unfortunate consequence of Monsters entering into the realm of myth before they resurfaced. There was no getting around the fact that in appearance, Monsters were very different than humans, and nothing but time would ease it. Of all the skeletons she’d met thus far, Edge was likely the most intimidating, with his glaring red eye lights and his fiercely sharp teeth. The natty way he was dressed was nearly incongruous, the line of his sleek, professional suit broken only by the splint strapped around one leg. The contrast to Papyrus’s near slovenliness was a point of interest, one that she discreetly added to her notes.

Normally, she wouldn’t have taken on a patient who was related to anyone she was already seeing; it could make for at best a conflict of interest and at worst, unconsciously taking sides. She’d already made an exception for Papyrus since she was already seeing Sans, but in their situation, she’d felt her familiarity with what Sans called ‘resets’ would be an advantage.

This was a special case and despite a discrete call from King Asgore encouraging her to take it on, she still wouldn’t have if she didn’t truly believe she could handle it, and she did. So she waited until Edge finally chose one of the chairs, settling into it with uncomfortably straight posture and looking directly at her with an intent crimson gaze. “I suppose you want to discuss the events in California.”

“We can,” Doctor Lee said, easily, “Do you want to talk about them?”

“No. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Edge said. His voice was crisp, businesslike, as if calling a meeting into order. “I’m here for you to give me a mental health assessment.”

“I’m only supposed to judge whether or not you should be back to work. We can talk about anything you like.”

“And if I don’t want to talk about anything?”

“That would be your choice,” Doctor Lee said, holding that calm, easy tone. “But it would make it difficult for me to make an assessment.”

Edge looked away, down at his trousers, frowning as he picked away invisible lint. “My husband doesn’t know I’m here. Not yet. Stretch. You told me before that he asked you to call him Papyrus.”

“I can’t discuss his therapy,” she began warningly

Edge waved that away. “I know that, I won’t ask. Did you know that my name is Papyrus as well?”

“I didn’t,” she admitted. She also did not write it down. Patients like this one were why she no longer wore glasses, to keep them from reading what she wrote in their reflection.

Now that he had a topic, Edge seemed to latch onto it. “That’s a rather long story. To simplify it, when I came here there were three of us named Papyrus and it was decided we needed nicknames. He took the name Stretch and I became Edge.” A pause, almost too brief to note, “There are times I think I shed the name Papyrus with unseemly haste, but the truth is, I don’t miss it. Stretch is less content with the choice, I think.” Edge fell into a considering silence, then said, “Do you suppose that it’s weaker to be so willing to abandon yourself than to try to remake it?”

Interesting and unexpected. Carefully, Doctor Lee asked, “Why would it be weaker?”

He didn’t answer that, only went on, “In my world…my former world…being unable to protect what’s yours is…was… a death sentence. Stretch usually allows me the illusion that I’m protecting him. And it is an illusion.” Edge seemed unaware of the way his hand drifted, fingering the Velcro straps of his leg splint. “He lets me care for him because he understands.” Edge smiled a little and the change in his face was remarkable, the way the sudden fond warmth eased the stark lines, “And I’m sure he enjoys it as much as I enjoy caring for him. I want to do little things for him, you understand? I want to make him happy.”

Another long silence that Doctor Lee made no attempt to fill, waiting until Edge spoke again, “You’re aware that he is much braver than I am.”

“Is he?” Lee said, neutrally. She set aside her notepad and instead, knotted her hands in her lap.

Edge nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s easy for me to play at courage. Stand and attack, stand and defend. But he comes in here,” he gestured vaguely at the room, “and opens his soul to you. You don’t think that’s brave?”

“I do, actually. It can be very difficult to take that first step,” Lee hesitated, then added, “I’m not sure I ever expected you to be in my office like this.”

“So you do think I’m less courageous than he is,” Edge countered, “that I would be unwilling to do what I’d demanded of him?” He smiled faintly. “You’re right. We wouldn’t be together much less married if Stretch…Papyrus… weren’t more courageous than I am.”

“Edge, you encouraged Stretch to come to therapy.” That was hardly breaking confidence to say.

“No.” He shook his head. “I forced him to come with an ultimatum.”

“Why?”

“Because he was hurting, and I couldn’t stand to see it. I was too weak to see it.” Edge hesitated, “I…I don’t know what he’s told you.”

Doctor Lee only sat, waiting.

“He’s been through so much and he allows me to protect him, as if he needs me,” Edge chuckled humorlessly. “Even I don’t know all the details of what he went through. People are always morbidly fascinated with Underfell, that I survived it, that I have LV. None of them look at Stretch and have any idea the strength he possesses. He made it through a living hell and still has it in himself to smile.

“So yes, I want him to have therapy. I want him to be able to feel safe and protected without lifting a finger of his own. I want him to feel loved because I love him.” A laundry list of wants, only for him to add, softer, “And perhaps it pains me to know what he’s been through but that’s nothing in comparison to what it’s done to him.”

He stood abruptly and wandered over to the window where bright sunshine was pouring in. Outside, she knew there was a tree, a strip of grassy land with a landscaped border of flowers before it led to the parking lot. Edge looked out the window as he said, softly, “The greatest shame of my life is that I didn’t realize when we first met that he wanted to die, and he simply couldn’t do it himself.”

Doctor Lee knew that situation, remembered the day, many therapy appointments in when Papyrus finally spoke so flatly about his past suicidal thoughts until that unfeelingness broke down somewhere in the middle into tears and she suspected very much that Edge did not. “It isn’t your fault you didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s not,” Edge said agreeably and every word was a denial. He slanted a glance back at Doctor Lee. “Did he ever tell you about our first kiss?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” she countered.

Closed his sockets briefly, opened them, then stepped away from the window. He moved restlessly, tucking his hands into his pockets. Perhaps resisting the urge to fidget. “I’m not here to discuss that,” he said, then almost immediately after, “He’s my everything.”

“Do you think that’s a good thing, for him to be everything for you?”

The look he cast her way was scathing. “You aren’t clever, and I was being hyperbolic. Obviously, I have other things in my life and so does he, we have plenty of our own hobbies, our own work.”

“All right.” Neutral, gentle, as she watched Edge pace, again prowling her office, this time with the restless energy of a caged tiger.

“He can be so frustrating!” A sudden burst of almost unwilling words, “He keeps secrets from me, but he’ll show me his very essence and I tell him nothing but truths and can’t do the same!”

“His essence?” Doctor Lee leaned forward, intrigued. “That doesn’t sound like a metaphor.”

“It’s not. He’ll let me see his soul,” Edge whispered, hushed and reverent. He pulled his hands out of his pockets to look at his spread, empty fingers, the thin bones covered by black gloves. “Let me touch it. That’s an incredibly intimate thing to Monsters. It takes an extreme amount of trust. His soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and when I hold it, I can feel how much he loves me. And I can’t show him mine in return.”

He fell silent. “Why not?” Doctor Lee asked, offering him the question he seemed to need.

“Because!” Edge snarled. He was breathing harshly, heaving, and she held her own breath, almost ready to call an end to this session; it was already far deeper than she’d expected to delve in a first appointment, falling down a mine shaft in terms of psychology, and she could only wonder how long he’d been waiting to say these things, how long they’d been trapped festering inside him, dammed up until the floodgates broke. He took a long, steadying breath, another, then said, achingly soft, “Because if he looked at the very essence of my being and rejected me, I…I couldn’t—I know he wouldn’t. I know that. And by equal measure, I know he would. That if he saw what I truly am, he would. Is it selfish of me to not want to take the chance?”

Doctor Lee chose her words carefully, “I’m not sure I’m qualified to judge anything about sharing souls. But I know that Humans can have a difficult time sharing their most intimate secrets with others. I don’t think that it makes you selfish to have a difficult time making yourself vulnerable.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She realized it almost immediately as his expression closed off. Edge nodded stiffly and made an obvious show of glancing at his phone as he said dismissively, “I believe our time is up, thank you for seeing me, Doctor—”

“Edge, why are you here?” Doctor Lee interrupted. She spread her hands, indicating her clean office, with its cozy chairs and uncomfortable questions. “What do you want from this?”

“I needed an assessment to return to work,” he said immediately, “I have a responsibility to our kind and they need me. Rus trusts you with his mental health, so I must be able to trust you with mine.”

She had no doubt he truly believed that, as far as that went. “What is it you think Papyrus wants from me?”

Edge frowned. “He needs professional support and you provide it.”

“Yes.” She studied him closely. “Do you resent that?”

It could be difficult for her to accurately assess a Monster’s facial expressions, but there was no mistaking Edge’s sudden sharp anger as he snapped out, “Why would I resent him for things he can’t control?”

“I didn’t ask if you resented him,” Cool, calm, always. “I asked if you resented that I can support him when you can’t.”

That flash of anger collapsed inwardly and for the briefest moment, Edge looked uncertain, “I…no. No, it’s only…I want to support him, but in some areas, I simply can’t.” And then, as if his own honestly was upsetting, “But I would never make him feel that I resent him!”

“Of course not,” Doctor Lee soothed, “That’s why I’m here, to give you a place to direct that anger and resentment. I can be your lightning rod if that’s what you need.”

“I’m not sure what I need,” Edge admitted. That it displeased him was obvious. Doctor Lee was positive that this was a person who did not like being unsure about anything.

She hadn’t been sure herself, at first, whether she could accept him as a patient past the assessment. Now she only said, “We could work on that, too. If you want.”

He stood there silently, and she didn’t think she imagined the lingering flicker of his uncertainty.

“Do you know why Papyrus really came to see me, that first time?” Doctor Lee said. She waited, holding back the answer until Edge shook his head. “Because the truth is, he wanted help. I can’t offer that to someone who is completely adverse. Can I be frank with you?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“Yes, therapy might help you. But it isn’t a requirement. You’re getting through your day to day life without issues, am I correct?”

“You are.”

“And sleeping through your nights. You’re happy enough with your status quo. Would therapy help? It might. Growth can be painful,” she said, and it wasn’t a warning, only a truth, “But we are usually better for it. If you decide to eventually try therapy, it will be here when you’re ready.”

Edge nodded, slowly, and seemed to be considering her words. He said, “I still need an assessment done. Will you send one to Asgore?”

“I was prepared to send that right when you proved you were able to walk through my door,” Doctor Lee admitted, “I think you’re perfectly capable of returning to work.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Edge gave her a formal nod and only waited for her to return it before he turned on his heel and walked out, hindered only by his slight limp.

She watched him go and waited until the door closed behind him before she sighed, deeply. She could only help those who wanted to be helped and that was the truth, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated when the offered hand was ignored.

Her notepad was still sitting on the side table. She picked it up and instead of working on her notes, doodled a little picture of a chicken, cartoonishly absurd. Papyrus kept chickens and spoke about them often with great fondness. Once, he’d even brought her a carton of eggs, after nervously asking her about the ethics of such a gift. They’d been delicious poached on toast.

She was adding a cartoon bubble over its head with the unimaginative dialogue of ‘cluck it’ when her phone buzzed with a text message. She picked up the phone and unlocked it, reading the message from a known, unexpected number.

Please let me know your available appointment times for next week.

Doctor Lee smiled.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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dragonasheswrites-blog · 7 years ago

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The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 14: In Which Much is Explained

...And Undyne plays therapist.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 13: In Which Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Next: Chapter 15: In Which Sans is Hired

Click here for the story overview.

Weeks passed in a similar manner. Though Sans didn’t breathe a word about Attie, or Frisk, or his missing phone data, he thought about them almost constantly. It seemed like Attie and Frisk took up almost as much of his life in their absence as they had when they were actually part of it.

He made sure not to walk past Frisk’s house on his way to and from the park where he sold hot dogs. It was pretty far out of his way, actually, especially on sore feet. He couldn’t even remember why he’d started using that route in the first place. It was much easier to take the straight path through the heavily monster-populated part of town, even if he could feel eyes on him.

The feeling was particularly strong one evening as he was walking home from his sentry shift. He was almost sure someone was following him, but that could’ve been a trick of his half-mad mind. Pulling double shifts on top of selling hot dogs was utterly exhausting, even though - or, perhaps, because - it had been such a boring job lately. Sure, sentries were technically supposed to keep humans out of Mount Ebott and dangerous monsters in, but few people were stupid or reckless enough to try crossing either way. Every once in a while some dumb human teenagers would dare each other to go up the mountain, but they were easily turned back. Sans hadn’t had that pleasure in...well, since long before he met Attie.

He glanced over his shoulder. His shadow didn’t duck behind the building fast enough, and he caught a glimpse. A single figure, humanoid, face covered by the hood of a jacket. Dark clothing. Short, around his height. Slender. The faint outline of a rounded chest.

...What was a lone woman doing out at night in this part of town? And tailing him, no less?

She was following him relatively closely, which was...not as annoying as Sans thought it would be. At least if someone got stupid and jumped her he’d be close enough to hear the ruckus and intervene if things got out of hand. He resolutely ignored the idea that he wouldn’t have cared before Attie came into his life.

The woman stalked him past Grillby’s, and he resisted the urge to stop in for a drink. Grillbz would report to Boss if there was enough money in it for him, and Boss was still unusually cranky. The last thing Sans wanted was a repeat of his punishment from the day Attie disappeared; that had been nearly a month ago, and he still felt a little sore when he stood for long periods of time.

Sighing to himself, Sans cut back towards his apartment building. Hopefully she’d just confront him and get it over with.

He held the door to the building open with one foot and shifted, watching the woman tense from the corner of his eye socket. “You comin’ in or what?”

She sidled along the building, a little unsteadily, and put a hand on the door. As she passed him, the yellow glow of the bare bulb in the hallway highlighted the curves of a familiar jaw and cheekbone.

“F-Frisk?”

Frisk held a finger to her lips and stepped into the hallway, letting him close the door behind her. She made a motion with her hand that took Sans a moment to decipher.

“O-oh, yeah. Uh. Sure. C’mon in.”

He lead the way up to the apartment he and Boss shared, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“SANS! You sack of SHIT, you’re LATE!”

Sans dodged Boss’s attack on instinct, then felt his very soul stutter. Frisk had been behind him. He turned to look, but thankfully she stood…

...well, mostly unharmed. She had a scratch on her left arm from wrist to elbow, skin and a thin line of blood showing through the tear in her jacket. Considering the trajectory of Boss’s attack and the fact that she’d been caught by surprise in the narrow hallway, it was impressive.

“Kiddo, let’s-”

“Oh, Ambassador Dreamurr! I apologize. My underling-” Boss kicked Sans out of the doorway- “Neglected to tell me that we would be having such a prestigious visitor in our humble home. Are you harmed?”

Sans heard Frisk confirm that she was mostly alright. The attack had been aimed him, after all; it hadn’t been very damaging. She accepted Boss’s invitation to enter the apartment, but not his offer of dinner.

“SANS, GET OUT. The Ambassador has something to discuss with me.”

He nodded and limped towards the door. Grillby’s it was, then.

“Actually,” Frisk said, not moving from her spot in the doorway, “I need to speak with Sans for a moment.” She glanced between him and Boss, amusement evident in the slight quirk of her eyebrow; Sans could only imagine what their expressions looked like. “Alone, please, Papyrus.”

“Yes, your highness.” Boss saluted and strode back towards his bedroom, shooting a very nasty glare at Sans as he went.

Screw this up, and you’re dust, the glare said.

Sans gulped audibly. Message received.

Then they were alone.

“Do you, uh, want to sit...down?”

“Alright,” Frisk responded. She headed not towards the couch that he’d been vaguely indicating but towards the dining room table. He shrugged lightly and followed her.

They sat across from each other for a long moment, neither speaking. He wasn’t sure how to break the silence without violating Boss’s rules, so he waited for Frisk to start first.

“I owe you,” she said, finally. Her voice was low, like she didn't want Boss to overhear.

“Uh…”

“What do you want?” The question held a lot less animosity than Sans had been expecting, especially considering how completely she’d cut him out of her life.

“I…” I want to see Attie again, he yearned to say. Just for a moment. Just to make sure she’s okay, and doing her Science and Math, and eating properly; nothin’ weird. Just to say goodbye.

“Do you think Frisk wants a filthy pest like you in her daughter’s life?”

“I don’t...want anything,” he said, fiddling with his fingers.

“What? Nothing?”

“Nope. Never...uh, never did.”

And it was true. From the day he’d found Attie in the bushes outside her house he hadn’t even considered collecting payment for his actions. It showed a stunning lack of self-preservation on his part - Frisk was a powerful woman, and her favor could get him nearly anything he could ever want - but he was just...tired.

“Then, why-”

“I just didn’t want a kid to watch her mom die, okay?” He took a deep, needless breath, fighting to keep his voice down. “I don’t...I don’t know where this idea came from that I want you dead’n a ditch somewhere, but that’s...not true, okay? We...you ‘n me, we haven’t always gotten along, sure, but I don’t get along with most folks. Hell, I don’t get along with Grillbz half the time. Doesn’t mean I’m waitin’ in a back alley for him, tryin’ to extort money off ‘im whenever he’s having a bad day.”

“Okay, but you’ve done so much for us. For me.” Frisk’s hands pressed to the dingy tabletop without regard for the stains that littered its surface as she leaned towards him. “Even if you didn’t help us so you could have something to hold over my head, isn’t there something you want? I...I can talk to Papyrus about getting your shifts reduced, at least? It isn’t fair that you should have to make up time when you were helping me. It’s not like you were slacking off.”

“It’s fine. Someone’s gotta watch the old place.” And most of the other sentries had families, which was more of a consideration now than Sans wanted to admit.

“Okay, well...are you sure? Is there anything you want? Anything at all?”

A picture, he wanted to say. You and Attie, smiling. Just one - just something to remember the both of you by. Something to remind me that you aren’t just the pretty painted statue I always see on TV.

“The ambassador’s daughter is too important a secret to be entrusted to the likes of you.”

He shook the thought away. “Just...be happy, okay? And make sure the kid does her Science.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

Weak, whispered his mind. This is why you should stay away from them. You’ll only drag them down to your level.

Frisk nodded, slowly, looking almost as lost as he felt. “I...okay, I will.”

He gestured towards her ripped sleeve. “And get your mom to patch that up, okay?”

“Alright,” she said. She fidgeted with the ragged edge, apparently not bothered by the wound. “Are...are you okay as well?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure? It looked like Papyrus kicked you-”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Silence dragged on until it felt uncomfortable, then a few seconds past that. Frisk watched him carefully the entire time, as if trying to peek into his soul by way of his eye sockets, but he forced all emotion down, down and away from her prying eyes. There was no need for her to worry about scum like him. “Well, then. I suppose...I’d better leave you be, then. And truly, Sans, thank you."

He nodded. He didn’t think he could form words around all the things he couldn’t say.

“I’ll...see myself out. If he asks, please let Papyrus know that I’m not happy with him; he’ll understand what it means.” She stood, pushed in her chair, and was gone before Sans could think of a reason for her to stay.

He retreated to his room before Boss realized Frisk had left. Passing on a message like that would probably cause a screaming fit, and he didn’t think he could handle another screaming fit. His bones felt strangely fragile, like he was about to fall apart at any moment. And what was there to keep him together? Sans had just given up his best chance of getting everything he wanted, and he couldn’t tell if it was the right thing to do or the worst mistake of his life.

For most of the night he just sat on the edge of his mattress, face in his hands, and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down his cheekbones.

The next morning, he felt awful. He hadn’t slept much at all but managed to drag himself out of bed on sheer force of habit. The apartment seemed too quiet, just like it had every day for the past month. How long would it take for him to get used to normalcy again?

Boss was out, as usual. It abruptly occurred to Sans that he didn’t know what day it was. He’d been counting days, sure (it had been 26 days since he'd last seen Attie), and it should be possible to figure out the day of the week from that, but he didn’t think his foggy mind would stand up to that much math.

He shuffled around in various pairs of dirty pants until he found his phone, only to find that it was dead.

Great.

It took only a moment to plug it in on his way to the kitchen, but even that felt like too much work. It was surprisingly early; if he actually needed to go to his hot dog stand, he wouldn’t even have to run. He stared for a long moment at the coffee machine, debating whether it was worth the effort. On the one hand, it was even more work and he felt exhausted. On the other hand...caffeine.

Deciding that caffeine was necessary to keep him going through the day, Sans dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine and started it up.

The door to his apartment slammed open just as the final drips of coffee were disappearing into the carafe. For one terrible moment, he thought it was Boss; he nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort to get his back to the wall.

“...The hell, asshole?”

“Oh. Hey, Undyne.”

“It’s CAP...y’know what? Never mind. Where’s your brother?”

“Uh...not here?”

“Don’t eff with me. I can smell coffee.”

Sans wondered just how long Undyne had gone without sleep. She looked nearly dead on her feet. On the other hand, it was hilarious that she was still censoring her language around the apartment. “Y’do remember that I can make coffee too, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Just didn’t think you’d bother.”

He sighed. “Sit down, I’ll get you a mug.”

She grabbed at the piping hot carafe, ignoring the potential for burns. “MUGS ARE FOR-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want some too. Go sit down or somethin’.”

Undyne actually sat down (in a chair, no less), which said a lot about her mental state. She growled something under her breath when Sans moved the carafe, but settled down a little when he poked a mug of coffee into her field of vision. The carafe itself followed, minus the contents of his own mug.

“See,” he said, sitting across from her at the table, “We can pretend to be all civilized.”

A skeptical eyebrow begged to differ.

“So, uh, whaddaya need Boss for?”

“He’s supposed to be on patrol around town this morning and he’s not answering his phone. He always answers his phone. So, that’s worrying. Especially since there’s been an increase in weird stuff in the past few weeks, ever since...well. You remember when Frisk was attacked by that bitch in the hospital?”

Sans did remember, but he was pretty sure the real “bitch” was the one who brought down the would-be assassin, not the assassin herself. He knew better than to say that out loud, though.

“So, now that Frisk is able to perform the official interrogation we’re getting ready for the trial. There’s a weirdly vocal group of humans who think we targeted this lady for some bullshit reason. Don’t know who spread the rumors, but some of them are saying that we, I dunno, accused her at random because of her skin color?? Hah. I don’t discriminate when taking down people who threaten my besties.” She took an aggressive gulp of coffee, then refilled her mug.

“That’s weird. Do they have any proof? I mean, we caught this lady in the act. We have video evidence of what happened. ‘Ts not like we lined up a bunch’ve humans and framed the one that’d cause us the most trouble.”

“Eh, most of the human media won’t touch our footage; they say it’s fake. Lotsa folks are saying we made up the whole thing, especially since the hospital’s official stance is that it was some kinda huge accident. HAH! I’m glad we got Frisk out of that place; one of the doctors was apparently bein’ a real creep.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Someone was tryin’ to get the hospital to keep her locked up for ‘mental distress’ or some kind of bullshit like that. Kept tryin’ to turn away visitors, too. That’s why there was the big rush to get her out of there. Didn’t think you’d dump the kid on her right away, though.”

Sans’s head was spinning. A doctor? Was that Dr. Ray? And: “...I didn’t dump the kid, Undyne. Boss sent me out and passed off the kid before I got...uh, back.”

She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about...about Frisk’s kid, right?”

“Yeah. Attie. You know her name, I know you do.”

He fidgeted. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, especially not in his own dining room. If Boss found out…

“Hey.” Undyne leaned over. “What the hell is going on in this dingy little apartment, anyways? I get one story from Papyrus - and he’s my vice-captain; I know exactly how trustworthy he is - and I get another story from you. What’s your game?”

“...Nothing? Look. I...I like the kid, okay? Yeah, she was a little annoying at first, and I’m not convinced she won’t grow up to be a tyrant to rival Asgore, but...she kinda grew on me. I tried to do my best with her, but Boss...he got worried. He didn’t want Attie around someone like - well, like me - any longer than necessary. I’m an asshole, remember?”

“Hmm.” She finished up the last of the coffee, tilting the mug back to catch every last drop. “Y’know, Papyrus can be a manipulative bastard sometimes, but usually I can call his bullshit. This is just weird. There’s no motivation for any of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I texted him as soon as I heard that Frisk was released. We needed security to escort her home and all that, especially since she wasn’t in particularly good shape. He was in charge of that part. He showed up with Attie and without you, which was weird. Said you were tired of watchin’ the kid; to me, at least. Told Frisk she missed her mom too much.” She paused, rubbing her eyes. “Actually...I guess I knew something was up. Attie’s story didn’t match his, after all, but she’s scared enough of Papyrus that we figured she didn’t have the full story. Dammit.”

“I mean...it’s not a big deal?”

A forceful punch made a dent in the tabletop. “It IS a big deal, you ASSHOLE! My vice-captain lied to me! I mean, that’s normal - he’s overdue for his annual assassination attempt, after all - but I’m supposed to RECOGNIZE it! I’m LOSING my EDGE!”

Sans shuffled around the table and took the chair next to Undyne. He had the weird urge to pat her on the back, like he'd do for Attie when she was upset, but thankfully quashed it. She’d probably bite his arm off if he tried. “Hey, it was a weird situation for all of us. Boss, uh, explained things to me after; I think he was just lookin’ out for the kid. I’m really not the best caretaker, remember?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Uh, what?”

“What did he ‘explain’ to you about this?”

He thought back to his battle with Boss in the park. “He, uh, said that Attie was too important to be trusted with me. He pointed out that...well, I’m not the most reliable guy, y’know? And Frisk and I haven’t really gotten along.”

Undyne examined him through her single narrowed eye. “And yet, she snuck out of the house, past our defenses, and wound up here last night. Now, why would that be?”

She knew about that? Was it a setup? “Uh...she was sayin’ thanks? She thought she owed me somethin’.”

“IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, YOU BAG OF BONES! She came here because she DOESN’T hate your guts! She CARES ‘bout you! You impressed her! She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

“But I am…”

“SHUT UP. I’m Captain of the Royal Guard; I’ve seen your employee file. Your real file. The one without bizarre grease stains blotting out half the information.”

Sans hadn’t realized he’d missed a copy of those documents. Good to know.

“I know what you’re capable of. I know what you’ve done. Oh, and while we’re on the topic: expect Asgore to give you a call sometime this afternoon about your... other job.”

“Okay…?”

“My point is, you pass yourself off as a lazy asshole. Heck, most of the time you are a lazy asshole. But somehow, Frisk saw something different. Something she, well, doesn’t hate. She really was grateful that you, y’know, saved her freakin’ life and took care of her kid out of the blue for a couple weeks, and she was a little hurt when you didn’t contact her at all after giving Attie back. By the way, why didn’t you contact her after...well, after Attie went home? They haven’t heard from you at all, which backed up what Papyrus said, but when they tried texting you their numbers were blocked. That's just not right.”

“So, uh, Boss kinda...messed with my phone.”

“WHAT?”

“He took off Frisk’s and Attie’s numbers, all the texts, the pictures…”

“WHAT? Even the ones where we were doing training poses??”

He grabbed the carafe, started another pot of coffee, and scooted down the hallway to grab his phone. It gave him whiny messages about having a low charge, but it turned on.

“Here,” he said, sliding it in front of Undyne. “I don’t know how he blocked numbers, though.” He didn’t want to watch her look through it - the missing pictures and texts still stung - so he retreated back into the kitchen to watch the coffee finish up instead.

He didn’t have many pictures left, so he was still fiddling with the coffee machine when she shrieked in outrage. “THIS IS AWFUL! Those were GREAT poses!”

“Yeah. I sent ‘em to Frisk, y’know; she still has 'em, I bet. She’d probably send them to you if you wanted.”

“HELL YEAH! Hey, do you want them too? You took ‘em, after all. Even if he’s blocked Frisk’s number somehow, he wouldn’t dare block mine in case I need to text you for work.”

“Better not. Boss still goes through my phone sometimes; if he finds a pic of Attie he’ll be pissed.” He brought the full carafe to the table and set it in front of Undyne. She needed it more than he did, and if it kept her talking…

“Hah. Never understood why you put up with that bastard. I mean, I put up with him because he’s got a good head for strategy and he’s a natural leader and I outrank him, but he just yells at you. And beats up on you, if Frisk's right about that. That’s grounds for you to leave the family. Why stay?”

“He’s...Boss? I mean, we’ve always been that way. Him ‘n me against the world.”

She downed an entire mug of coffee in one go. “You know the world’s not like that anymore, right? There’s only so much I can do as his boss, but there are other people willing to - urgh! - help. Hell, go make puppy eyes at one of those human abuse rehab programs; they literally throw parties every time a monster shows up at their door. They’d get you set up somewhere else.”

“C’mon,” he sighed, “Does that really sound like me? Whatever you think you know about me from those files, I gave up a long time ago.”

A strange look grew across Undyne’s face. It was the same look she wore when she had defeated a particularly challenging enemy, but without the wide-toothed grin. “Attie misses you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

Sans had no response to that.

“She told me so yesterday morning. She’s sad that you won’t call her. Thinks you don’t like her anymore.”

“Undyne, stop.”

“Hmm? Why should I? I thought it didn't matter. I thought it wasn't a big deal.”

“Look. It really is better if she just...forgets about me or somethin’. ‘Sides, Boss said I’m not allowed to even say her name. How’m I gonna-”

A fishy fist left another dent in the table. “THAT’S THE POINT! If Papyrus isn’t around, he’s not your ‘Boss’ anymore, right?? Yeah, I know it’s not normal for us to break up families, even now that we’re on the surface. And I know that he's the head of your family. But...sometimes you just gotta pick your battles, okay? Besides, I KNOW you pay the bills around here. You can move out any time you like. File for emancipation so he can’t drag you back and all that. And then maybe my besties will stop talking my gills off about how much they miss your bony ass.”

The thought of anyone missing his ‘ass’ was laughable, but he felt his skull turning colors anyways. “I...uh, well, maybe. I mean, it’s not so bad ‘round here, y’know? And like you said, we’re family and I pay the bills. Who’d take care of the ol’ place if I leave?”

“STARS, HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT, WOULD YOU?? THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU!” She chugged the remainder of the coffee. “NOW I’VE GOT A CAFFEINE HIGH AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! I’VE GOTTA RUN THIS OFF BEFORE MY MEETING! LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE YOUR BASTARD OF A BROTHER!”

She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing around in Sans’s skull. She had a point, he knew. There would be plenty of advantages to living alone. No more punishments, more free time, the ability to cook his own meals…

...missed shifts because he didn’t get out of bed on time, time lost staring into nothing, crippling loneliness…

No, he wasn’t ready to go it alone, no matter how bad things got. Boss was just...Boss. Just the same as any other monster. They were family, and that meant something to monsters. Abandoning your family meant you were the lowest class of monster, worse than froggits. Worse than dirt. If Undyne and Frisk were worried, well, maybe they had forgotten just how bad things had been in the Underground.

He owed Boss, and that debt would never be repaid.

With a heavy soul, he tied his sneakers on and made his way over to his hot dog stand.

Boss, as it turned out, had been summoned by Asgore sometime early in the morning. Undyne came down from her caffeine high long enough to text Sans about that, and to send him forceful messages in all caps warning him not to repeat anything she said while sleep-deprived. He smirked. Over the time he’d been taking care of Attie, Undyne’s attitude towards him had changed. It was strange, having the excitable and ruthless Captain of the Royal Guard as some kind of...of friend, but it wasn’t bad. He respected her, actually.

And in light of that respect, he reconsidered her words. She had said that Attie missed him. Just the thought of that tugged at his soul. It shouldn’t have, of course; he’d only known her for such a short time. And she was a little human kid. Why should he care about a little human kid?

He deliberately did not think about the kid’s mother.

Luckily, he had bigger problems to take his mind off things. Just as Undyne had predicted, Asgore called him just after Greater Dog and Lesser Dog stopped by the hot dog stand for lunch. Sans cleared his nonexistent throat, willing himself to keep calm; the King of Monsters was terrifying, even over the phone. “Uh, hello, your majesty.”

“Hello, Sans. I am calling to discuss your return to a job you have not held in quite some time.”

Fear locked his bones. “Uh, w-which job?”

“Hmm. You have held several positions, have you not? I feel that a phone conversation is not the best place to discuss this. Come to my castle in the Underground immediately.”

“Y-yes, your maj-”

The king had already hung up. Sans texted Undyne with shaking fingers, letting her know that he’d be late to his sentry shift due to a meeting with the king, then sent the same to Boss. Better safe than sorry.

He grabbed a spare ‘dog and closed down the stand. A sudden thought prompted him to glance down; he was still in his pyjamas.

Teleporting from an alley to his room saved him a lot of time and potential embarrassment. He listened closely, but everything seemed quiet; with any luck, Boss was occupied elsewhere. A sharp ding from his phone made him jump, but it was just Undyne telling him to take the first of his shifts off.

He changed into his button-down shirt and slacks, still clean from the last time he wore them, then stepped into a shortcut. He couldn’t teleport all the way to the top of Mount Ebott - even if the distance wasn’t too much, there were magical protections in place - so he went in stages. His first teleport brought him to his favorite lookout spot, just a short jog from the sentry station he handled most often.

The air was crisp and cool and the forest smelled like winter. From his lookout spot he could see the town laid out below, rows and rows of houses and hospitals and schools and businesses tied together by thin veins of black. There was a bit of activity in the streets, probably humans and monsters getting ready for Christmas (and maybe Takersfaire, if the monsters were feeling bold), but it was barely noticeable from such a distance.

A slight breeze wiggled its way between his bones as he walked towards his station. There were two barriers on Mount Ebott: one just below the sentry stations, and one closer to the entrances where the original once stood. The first - designed to alert sentries when someone approached the mountain - didn’t do anything in particular to block normal entry but he couldn’t teleport through it. It was annoying to have to stop, walk through the barrier manually, then teleport again, but it was an old routine and he managed.

The second barrier, the one that protected the Underground from most intrusions, was one of his least favorite spots in the whole world. It was almost entirely Frisk’s work. Her magic always felt hostile against his bones; no matter how many times he climbed the mountain, he was always a little afraid that her barrier would refuse him entry...or dust him outright.

It was a surprise, then, when he didn’t feel the familiar crackle of angry magic as he approached. Worry niggled at the back of his mind; had Frisk not refreshed it recently? It had been a month since she was released from the hospital; surely she’d climbed the mountain at some point...right? King Asgore still lived Underground most of the time, after all, and she loved him like a father despite everything.

The low hum of powerful human magic filtered slowly into his senses, more noticeable the closer he got. Within arm’s reach of the barrier, it was so strong that it rattled his bones a little. It felt nothing at all like he expected. He carefully held out one hand towards the barrier, and found…

Gentle. Welcoming. “Hi, Sans!”

“What the hell?” This...wasn’t normal. Actually, what had Undyne said?

“She CARES ‘bout you! You impressed her! She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

...Yeah, Frisk had refreshed the barrier, alright. He felt his entire skull turning colors. Beads of sweat began to form under his collar and his breathing picked up.

Magic, even Frisk’s weird human magic, dealt a lot with intent. When he and Frisk had been passive-aggressive enemies - and they had been as long as he could remember, exchanging japes and the occasional harsh word off and on - her intentions toward him had been wary and antagonistic. Now��

Well.

Sans crossed the barrier and stepped into a shortcut before he could think too hard.

A pool of brilliant light met him on the other side. Once upon a time this had probably been a majestic hallway, a tribute to the golden sun the monsters hadn’t seen for generations, but with so many more urgent problems and a general lack of reliable builders it had fallen into disrepair. By the time he had seen it for the first time it had been half-buried and caved in, more of an obstacle to reaching the palace than an entryway. It had only gotten worse over the years.

Now, it looked like someone was in the process of repairing the old place. Most of the rubble had been cleared out and the weak parts of the ceiling and walls had been reinforced with scaffolding. The shattered stained glass windows had been removed; lead scraps were piled in a corner, waiting to be repurposed. The artificial light sources were harsh without the scraps of color the broken windows had provided.

The world...really was changing.

“Sans?” a deep voice boomed through the hallway, shattering his reverie. “Come through to the throne room. You and I have business to discuss.”

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Sans #Frisk #Undyne #Asgore #You can't get rid of Frisk that easily #This isn't ominous at all #How many jobs can one skeleton even have?

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inu-jiru · 8 years ago

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Y-You Came Back...?

I had made it. After days upon days of walking, I had finally reached Mount Ebott, the place I once called my home. My head tilted upward, gazing up at the gargantuan mountain before me. I could barely make out the palace that sat on its peak. It was the residence of the gods, a place only the divine were allowed to enter. It looked just as magnificent as it did the day I left. Taking a few steps back, I now spotted the tower of the Father God. My heart skipped a beat.

“Asgore…” I murmured softly.

I hadn’t seen my old love in years. Ever since the Grim Reapers came into being, I thought of him as nothing but a monster. The children I created, he had created gods who would end the life I gave them. In my disgust, I had taken the young god, Asriel, and fled. I knew full well how much he loved that child; I wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt me. My eyes fell to the ground as a wave of guilt hit me. In hindsight…I was acting just as cruelly as I accused him of being.

The Reapers, while their jobs still left me with an uneasy feeling to this day, were decent folk. I had befriended them in my time of solitude. They kept me hidden from the other gods, and looked after my darling Frisk. While I hated them before, there was nothing in my heart but respect for them. After all, it had never been their choice to become Grim Reapers. What right did I have to shame them for a crime they did not commit? It was for that reason I was here now. Both the Reapers and Asgore had suffered my misjudgment, and it was time to fix those mistakes. I hadn’t brought Asriel with me, however. Despite Reaper Sans’ reassurance, on the off chance Asgore rejected me…I would rather not have Asriel see me in such an embarrassing state. I still had a bit of my pride, after all.

Taking a deep breath, I began the climb, walking along the mountain trail carved by my humans centuries ago. It would’ve been easy for me for simply teleport to the entrance of the godly realm with my power, but I could not bring myself to do it. With each step I took, my heart raced faster and faster. With a gentle wave of my hand, a songbird appeared from nothing, resting on my finger. I nodded to it, and it began to whistle a gentle tune that would, hopefully, calm my nerves.

Asgore loved the sound of birds.

The thought echoed in the back of my mind. Sighing, I shooed the bird away, and was left in silence once more. I simply continued to walk. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became hours. It was late in the afternoon when I finally reached the godly realm. I paused, seeing a barrier flicker into existence the second I got too close. For a second, I considered turning around and heading back to the Ruined Temple. No doubt Asgore had made it so that I could not re-enter the realm. I abandoned him and the other gods; he wouldn’t want me back.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Reaper Sans’ words repeated in my mind.

Yes, I thought in reply. I really do…

Holding my breath, I stepped forward. Effortlessly, I passed through the Barrier. My heat fluttered hopefully. Could it be…? Was there still a chance I…? No, there was no need to get ahead of myself. I walked on, entering the open doors of the palace. I could hear the faintest sound of music resonating down the long corridor. Pillars chiseled from the finest masonry towered high above me, making me feel almost surrounded. I rested a hand on my chest, as if it would control my beating heart. I passed the empty thrones, making it to the stairway at the end of the hall. This was it. Once I climbed these stairs, I would meet him again. There was no turning back now. Or rather, there was, but then I would have to live with my cowardice for an eternity. I climbed the stairs, the music becoming fainter as I ascended higher. I could now hear the rushing of wind, and…birdsong. That was then followed by…

“Dum dee dum…”

My breath caught in my lungs. He was there, just at the top of those steps, humming the songs of her birds like he always did. Had he been…doing this every day since I left, I couldn’t help but wonder. I felt a warm bit of moisture run down my face. A tear…

What had I done?

I picked up my pace, now entering the Sky Tower, Asgore’s personal domain. As I suspected, Asgore was there, sitting at his throne. His hand was raised, a bird resting on his finger. It would sing a note, and Asgore would reply with a hum, a rich baritone that complimented the song beautifully. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring. Suddenly, I was brought back to my senses by a single word:

“Tori?”

I blinked. Asgore was looking directly at me now. The bird had flown off; we were now alone. I wasn’t sure what to say, and judging by Asgore’s expression neither could he. He then slowly rose from the throne, his cape being picked up by the breeze. He took a step forward. Then another. Then another. It wasn’t long before he was standing before me. Up close, I could now see the weariness in his eyes…the weariness I had caused…

“I…” I began, but I never finished. Asgore had suddenly taken me in his arms, hugging me tightly.

“Y-You…came back…”

I was quiet for a moment, simply feeling his warmth against me, before I cautiously hugged him back.

“Y-Yes…” I responded. “I am back…and I-I am sorry…”

“Do not apologize. I-I should not have driven you away.” Asgore backed away, his eyes moist with tears. “I…I thought I was helping…I wanted to make the world better for your creations…I didn’t meant to hurt you, I just…I am so sorry, Toriel…” Asgore was crying now, tears flowing freely down his face. I shook my hand.

“No,” I whispered. “I…I was being selfish. I didn’t care for balance, only what I wanted. But I understand now, Gorey. I…I understand Death now. Sans, Papyrus…I have befriended them. They have shown me that I had no reason to see them as enemies…that I had no reason to hate you…” I bowed my head, closing my eyes. “I can understand I you cannot forgive me. I betrayed you to satisfy my own happiness.”

“Tori…” I felt Asgore’s hand lift my chin. His eyes gazed into mine, and I could see all the love he had felt for me since the beginning of time. He then lowered his head, and I felt his lips press against mine. A familiar warmth rushed through me. It had been millennia since he had first kissed me, but that spark had not faded. I raised a hand, resting it on his cheek, pulling him deeper. This…this was perfect.

Alas, nothing lasted forever, not even for gods. Asgore pulled away, his cheek a bright red. A goofy smile was plastered to his face, and he looked almost apologetic.

“What is the matter?” I asked breathlessly.

“N-Nothing…” Asgore replied softly. “I just…never thought I would get to do that again…Oh, Toriel…” He wrapped his arms around me again. “I love you so much…” I felt myself smile more than I had done in a long time.

“I love you too, Asgore.”

Guess who turned around and wrote that Reapertale fic anyway? This gurl! *wink* Since I don’t know much about lore and stuff when it comes to Reapertale I just told myself to wing it and write so *shrug* enjoy my goat god fluff.

#reapertale #reapertale asgoriel #asgoriel #asgore x toriel #reapertale asgore #reapertale toriel #asgore #toriel #father god asgore #life toriel

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