Recently had a silly Handplates dream where Papyrus was trying to snoop around Gaster and Alphys’ lab, but didn’t know who Alphys was and so was trying to pass it off as his own lab lol (Patreon)

EDIT:  jfc i forgot the readmore i’m sorry for the massive post on your dash xD So this is a snippet/draft from the big fic-in-progress, but it’s holiday appropriate and really cute.  

warnings: mentioned character death (he got better) smoking, mentions of drinking, cursing, and naughty santa innuendo between two emotionally constipated magical skeletons who can’t decide if they wanna date each other or punch each other.  except one knows he can’t be punched or he’ll die and he uses it to pester the other skeleton to no end.

-ahem-

Red and Sans are invited to Tori’s for a small gyftmas/christmas party.  It’s technically Red’s first christmas.  (Asgore is not invited for reasons, Red finds out later)  It’s...a party.  Red is a bit uncomfortable being included in the festivities, and feels a little out of place.

----- Just as Red was considering the eggnog as an escape from his state of constant, unending anxiety that someone was going to turn around and stab him, the whole party went quiet for a moment.  Everyone turned their attention to the front door, and the group of children started making an ungodly noise.   “the fuck??”  Red muttered, willing himself to get closer to the group so he could see what was going on.  Wait. That was Sans.  That was very clearly Sans, dressed up in a red, velvety santa suit and a shitty fake beard.  He hadn’t even bothered to take off his ratty slippers.  Holy shit.  Red fumbles with his soda as he tries to clap one of his hands over his mouth before he bursts out laughing.  Holy shit.  Holy shit.   Suddenly everything was worth it.  The anxiety, the stress, being around people who cared about him too much for whatever reason;  this made it all worth it.  This made his whole fucking year, seeing Sans dress up in such a stupid-- Then Papyrus screamed “SANTA!!  YOU MADE IT TO THE SURFACE!!” and practically tackled Sans.  The two skelebros laughed, and Sans patted Papyrus on the back.  They were happy. Red felt...something kinda warm and fuzzy curl up in his soul.  He gave Sans a genuinely affectionate smile, and he felt the tiniest bit proud of him for doing something like this for his brother.  Even though he’s damn sure Papyrus knows exactly what’s going on, and is just playing along because it makes them both happy. Red decided to keep his mouth shut, and tried to will the warm fuzzy feelings to chill for a bit while Sans started handing out presents to various party goers.  Papyrus and Frisk were the first, then he moved onto a couple of the Snowdin kids, Undyne and Alphys, and then Toriel. By the time he got around to Red, Red’s amusement had resurfaced, and he was trying his best to behave. He failed.  As Sans started digging around in his bag for Red’s present, Red gave him a mock-offended look as he scoffed.  “wait, no way.  after all the shi--”  Toriel gave him the Mom look.  “--stuff i’ve done this year, i’m not on the naughty list?” Sans looked a bit caught off guard, but recovered quickly with a shrug.  “eh, santa is forgiving, especially after what you’ve been through--” “damn, i’m guess ‘m gonna haveta try harder next year.”  Red gave him a wicked grin. Sans’ smile soured a little, and he shrugged.  “...well in that case, you get nothing.”  Off he went to the next person. “wh-”  That wipes the smile off Red’s face.  “wait, no, i--” “nope, too late, you’ve been bad.”  Sans stated, ignoring him. “hey!  wh...”  Red frowned at him, crossing his arms to keep himself from flipping the shorter skeleton off.  Sans almost wanted to go back and poke fun at him for actually pouting, but kept his act going. --- Later on, Sans was finally done being Santa.  After listening to Papyrus’ long explanation about how he’d missed out on meeting the jolly man in the red suit yet again this year, he just wanted to sit back and enjoy some time to himself.  Which meant finding Red.   He looked around the house, but it seemed like Red had vanished.  He had a good idea where his double probably was, though.  He asked Tori to make two cups of hot coco, then headed for the back door where the porch swing was.  For some reason, Red always ended up back here. Sure enough, Red was on the porch, although the swing was abandoned in favor of the steps.  And he was smoking again.  Sans was pretty sure it was still the same box of cigarettes Red had from the wedding. Sans didn’t try to be quiet when he opened the back door, so Red wouldn’t be too startled.  He did look back to see who was coming, but the relief on his face when he realized it was Sans was tangible.   “hey.”  Sans called, approaching quietly.   “...hey.”  Red replied, taking a drag of his cigarette.  He paused when Sans offered him a mug of coco.   Looking between his cig and the coco, Red eventually flicked his cig into the snow and took the offered mug with a warm smile.  “...thanks.” “no problem.”  Sans replied, sitting next to him on the steps.  “too much?” “...yeah.”  Red muttered, taking a sip of his coco.  He brightened.  “this is good.” “i can’t take credit, Tori made them.” “still good.  and ya still brought it to me.”   Sans hummed slightly, before nudging Red.   Red fumbled in an attempt not to spill his coco, and chuckled.  “what?” He thought he could see the faintest flicker of nervousness as Sans’ smile tightened a little.  “...you uh.  do you still want that present?” “thought i’d been too bad for presents.”  Red teased, nudging Sans back.   Sans took a moment to stare into his coco, before he set it aside and fished a thin, wrapped package out of his inventory, and held it out for Red to take.  “you deserve something, especially after i caught you pouting like a spoiled child after i told you you wouldn’t get one.” Red threw him an only slightly irritated glare and snatched the gift from him.  He was expecting something stupid, like Papyrus’ gift; a cookbook, except every recipe had ketchup in it. He wasn’t disappointed.  His gift was also a book, but it was a...coloring book?  The word “FUCK” was emblazoned on the front of it in fancy text, and framed with all kinds of artsy shit.   “the fuck is this?” Sans burst out laughing, and Red had to hold himself back from chucking the stupid thing at him.  Sans was doing that thing again, that dumb honest laugh of his turning his soul to mush with good feels. Once Sans managed to get a hold of himself, he held out a cheap pack of markers.  “it’s a coloring book.” “...Sans, it says FUCK on it.” “yeah, i saw it and thought of you.  open it.” “gee thanks, you ass.”  Red scoffed, flipping through a page or two.  He was assaulted with more curse words in fancy, flowery script.  Then, a horrible idea popped into his head.  “looks like a perfect activity to do with the kid next time i watch ‘em.” Sans’ amusement shifted to horror.  “oh god no - Tori would kill me--”  His arm snapped forward faster than Red expected in an attempt to snatch back the gift, but Red managed to hold it just out of the smaller skeleton’s range.   Red laughed as Sans tried to climb over him after the book, totally ready to chuck it across the porch if he had to.  Sans paused and gave him a strange look, a twinkle of something in his eye lights before he started trying after the book again with renewed vigor. Red kept laughing and fending him off until he felt something softly brush his skull.  A pastel shred of paper fluttered into view, and Red followed it with his eye lights until it landed on his lap.  The book was forgotten momentarily, and he didn’t even react when Sans snatched it from him. Then Sans noticed the slip of paper Red was oh so carefully holding in his hand.  A ticket, for the supernova event at Mt. Ebott observatory next year.  The same ones Red had died trying to get, weeks prior. Red said nothing, instead his gaze shifted and the two of them locked eye lights.  Sans was starting to get a little nervous.   “...you...i uh.  heard there was this big thing going on at the observatory next year, thought it’d be neat?  so i got two tickets, and uh, maybe you...could go with me?”  Sans grinned at him, but Red just continued to stare.  “i mean, if you wanted to.  i thought maybe...space was your thing too.  like mine?  i, uh...” Sans was beginning to worry that the aftermath of that whole situation might be a painful memory for Red, that it was stupid to dredge that pain back up during a time they were supposed to be happy, that-- Sans tensed when he felt Red loop one of his arms around the back of his neck, and leaned forward to click his teeth against Sans’ own, his soul welling with warm and fuzzy feelings.  He could pull away if he wanted, Red wasn’t holding onto him tightly.  But...friends don’t kiss, Sans. Sans leaned into the kiss, his arms slipping around Red’s waist of their own volition.  It was gentle, not heated or desperate.  Warm, calm, comfortable.  The two of them stayed like that for a good while, until Red pulled away first. They stared into each other’s eye lights until Red looked down at the ticket clutched in his free hand.  “...i uh.  i’d like that.  the space thing.  with you.”  Red’s voice sounded oddly tight, and it felt like his soul was getting ready to flutter right out through his ribs.   Sans wasn’t much better off.  He quickly retracted his arms to fiddle slightly with the fluff on the hem of his costume.  “good!  that’s...good.  ‘cause then i’d have an extra ticket.”  He cleared his non-existent throat and gave Red a grin.  “so uh.  you okay?” “...yeah?”  Red asked, quirking a browbone at Sans.  “why?” “no reason.”  Sans replied quickly. When it was clear Sans wasn’t gonna give him a real answer, Red scoffed and fished out his wallet.  He tucked the ticket inside, so it didn’t get...misplaced.  “it’s so hard to take you seriously in that stupid costume.”  He mused. That broke Sans out of his nervousness.  “oh, yeah i saw you trying so hard not to make fun of me.  good for you on behaving.”  Sans gave him a pat on the back. “don’t patronize me.”  Red snapped, before his expression shifted into something...warm.  Happy.  “i just...i didn’t wanna spoil it for Papyrus.  he was so fucking excited to see you show up in that stupid - sorry, to see Sansta show up tonight.” Sans shrugged.  “eh, he knows it’s me.  it’s just a thing we do.” “i figured, but he still enjoyed it.  it’s just...nice to see, ya know?  you two, doin’ nice shit for each other.  you’re a good brother, Sans.” Sans wanted to ask if Red had ever done something like that for his brother, but...something told him that he should probably keep his mouth shut about it.  “uh, thanks.” The two of them sat in awkward silence for a while after that.   “...so if you hadn’t decide to behave, what would you have said?”  Sans asked curiously.  It felt like poking a hornets nest, but he was genuinely curious, and the warmth in his soul from that kiss was stirring up other thoughts. Red snorted, before dissolving into downright laughter again, and he leaned on Sans for support.  Sans’ soul flipped in his chest at the sound. “haha, i can’t, i can’t say it.  i don’t wanna get kicked outta the house over somethin’ that stupid.” Sans casually glanced around the porch.  “we’re kind of already out of the house.” That made Red pause.  “...yeah, i guess we are, huh?” “so uh.”  Sans tugged a stray piece of fuzz off his sleeve. “why do you wanna hear what i’da said so bad?” “i need a laugh.  and a reason to put you on the naughty list.” Sans felt a twinge of regret the moment the words had left his mouth.   “oh really?  you need a reason?”  Red gave him a wicked grin, his gold tooth glinting in the dim flicker of the christmas lights around them.   “well, uh, i have plenty of reasons, but i just--”  He went silent with shock as Red maneuvered himself into Sans’ lap, the larger skeleton straddling his legs.  “uhhhh--” “oh, i’ll give you a reason.”  Red gave him a heated look.  “...how about i jingle yer bells, Sansta, and then we...fffuck i can’t--”  Red suddenly burst into laughter again.  “oh my god, that’s fucking terrible, even fer me.  ‘m sorry shortstack.” Sans was silent, frozen as his eye lights bore into Red’s own.  Red’s grin fell slightly, and his laughing ceased.  “...hey, i warned you it’d be stupid.”  His face lit up faintly red, and he moved to climb off of Sans when he felt Sans’ phalanges dig into the crests of his hips, holding him in place. “uhhhh.”  Red muttered. “uhh.”  Sans replied, looking between them.  He chuckled sheepishly.  “...i snow you wanna be on the n-ice list, but wow.  flirting with Sansta?  that’s definitely ultra-naughty list material.  i might have to stuff your stocking with something better than coal.” “holy shit." Red wheezed and started laughing uncontrollably again.  “oh my god - how - how long did you stay up last night thinking of naughty christmas puns?  holy shit, Sans!” Sans laughed too.   What was he even doing?  Had Tori put something in his coco?  “i just wanted to see if we were on the same page.”  He pointed up at the lights twinkling along the railing.  “while your pun was bit lacking, i’m de-lighted to see that you at least tried.” “we both know puns are shit and you prefer knock-knock jokes, you peppermint flavored gremlin.” “wow i take it back, you didn’t even try there.  back on the normal naughty list.” Red scoffed in mock offense. “didn’t even try??  well shit, lemme lick yer candy cane and find out what flavor it is then~” Sans’ face practically went navy at that, and he uttered a soft “fuck.”   Red snorted, pleased with that reaction.  “so, do i win now?” “y-yes.”  Sans managed to reply, hiding his face against Red’s stupid christmas sweater. “you gonna gimme a present?”  Red whispered against Sans’ skull, digging his sharp phalanges into the cheap, velvety red suit. “oh god.  uh.  not that.”  Sans shivered slightly, trying so hard not to do anything naughty on Toriel’s back porch.  But his mind was swimming with terrible puns.   “what, afraid i’ll bite?” “yes.  very yes.”  Sans was very aware of what those teeth could do.  And he wanted them no where near his...oh god. “wow, you trust me so much.”  Red deadpanned, before just...hugging Sans.  They were still in that slighly awkward position, with Red in Sans’ lap, but Red was comfortable, dang it.  He gave Sans a sheepish grin.  “hey, relax.  ‘m just playing.” “no you’re not, you’re corrupting me.”  Sans whined. “huh?” “i can’t - i can’t stop thinking of dirty puns.  oh god.  what have you unleashed.” Red laughed.  “don’t blame me fer that!  you were probably doin’ that long before i came around.” “no, i--” “hey.”  Red started.  “knock knock.” “...uh.  who’s there?” “coal.” “coal who?” “coal me if you hear santa commin’.”   Sans snorted, and Red felt some of the tension leave him.  Red smiled.  “why does santa always go down the chimney?” “i dunno, why?” “because it soots him.” Sans snorted again, before laughing. Feeling brave, Red continued.  “knock knock.” “who’s there?”   “...tanks.” “tanks who?” “tanks for givin’ me a good christmas, Sans.” “...o-oh.  you’re welcome Red.  you deserve it.”  Sans looked away with a soft smile, his face dusted with cyan.   Red shrugged.  “lies, but i’ll take it.  hey, why does Santa always land on your roof?”

“why?” Red leaned forward and whispered “because he likes it on top.”   That cyan shifted back into navy, and Sans gave Red an absolutely incredulous look.  “really?” Red grinned.  “i dunno, Sansta, you tell me.” The noise Sans made was amazing.  Red couldn’t help but laugh.  “okay okay, i’ll stop.”  He replied, trying to climb off of Sans again, but Sans still held him fast.  “...okay, my legs are fallin’ asleep here, Sans.”  He relaxed again, but jolted when he felt something that was definitely not a lump of coal, nope. “yeah?  well uh...”  Sans looked absolutely mortified, but he leaned in close and whispered something so quietly, Red almost didn’t hear it.   But he did hear it.  And his face went absolutely scarlet.  “...uhhhhehe...fucking hell, Sans.  that’s uh.  wow.  you sure yer not the one on the naughty list instead of me?” Sans still looked mortified, but he managed half a grin.  “so...uh, wanna move this party back home?” “i think we should.  ‘cause we’re probably gonna stain this fancy suit of yers if we continue.”  Red slipped his arms around Sans’ shoulders, quietly steeling himself for a shortcut. “yeah.”  Sans looked at the cups of abandoned coco, which had long since gone cold.  They really should return them.  Then he felt Red shift in his lap again, and Sans’ mind was made up.   --- “...nng.”  Red’s sockets fluttered open the next morning as the muted light of a cloudy day shined in through the window.  Right into his face.  Willing himself further into consciousness, he felt around for the familiar lump that was Sans, only to find him missing.   Swinging his arm behind him, it collided with his missing lump.  Sans let out a quiet groan at the assault.  “ow.  why.” “couldn’t find ya.”  Red mumbled, rolling over so the light wouldn’t bother him anymore.  “bright.” “mm.  i thought you liked sunlight?” “’s christmas an’ ‘m too full of lazy right now to care.”  Pulling Sans into a cuddle, Red relaxed and tried to go back to sleep. Sans snorted and let himself be cuddled.  Red’s bones still buzzed with his magic, and Sans smiled sheepishly. “merry christmas, Red.” “yeah.” “stars, you must still be tired.” “shuddap an’ go the fuck back to sleep.” “i would, but i don’t think i can.  the official Papyrus wake up call should be soon.” “the what.” Suddenly, there was a pounding knock on their door.  Red jolted in surprise.   “SANS, RED!!  WAKE UP YOU TWO LAZY BONES, IT’S CHRISTMAS!!  THERE’S PRESENTS!!”  Papyrus called excitedly, before his thudding footsteps bounded down the stairs. Now that both of them were sufficiently awake, Red groaned.  “i don’t wanna get up yet.” “we gotta.  if we don’t, i don’t think Paps’ll let the whole ‘we might not be decent’ thing stop him from barging in here to--” “’m getting up.”  Red replied, rolling himself off the bed with a muffled THUMP.  The quilt followed.   Sans laughed, before rolling himself off the bed after him.   “oof - get offa me.”  Red growled, his voice muffled by the quilt.   “huh, you’re actually kinda comfy.”  Sans replied, letting himself relax on the pile.  Red easily shrugged him off and stood up, balling up the quilt and tossing it onto the bed.   Sans let himself remain on the floor for a moment as he watched Red get dressed.  Red ignored him for the most part, but Sans didn’t miss the way his cheekbones were tinted ever so slightly scarlet.   “...i think i’ll make pancakes.  that sound good?”  Red asked after tugging his christmas sweater over his head, drawing Sans out of his thoughts. “yeah.”  Sans yawned and sat up, before retrieving a pair of shorts from the floor and tugging them on.  He wasn’t even sure if they were his.  A pair of clean sweatpants landed on his head.   “i don’t feel like having yer bro throw a shit fit over you wearing crusty floor shorts.” “they’re not crusty.”  Sans replied, picking at a questionable stain that might not quite be ketchup.  He frowned.  “sweatpants it is.” There was a clatter downstairs, and the two of them shared a look before Red left the room. --- Sure enough, Papyrus was gearing up to make them a breakfast feast.  Red yawned and took a moment to pour some coffee from the pot right into his mouth before going over and wrestling the cast iron from Papyrus’ grip.  Thankfully, Papyrus didn’t fight him.   “GOOD MORNING, RED!  MERRY CHRISTMAS!”  Papyrus beamed, before clapping an oven-mitted hand over his mouth.  “Was that too loud?” Red quirked a brow bone at him, and set the pan down on the stove.  “...no?  you don’t gotta be quiet in the house, Paps.  ‘s just us.” “...OH.  I THOUGHT YOU AND SANS HAD GOTTEN INTO THE EGGNOG YESTERDAY, WHICH IS WHY YOU WERE NOT UP EARLY, LIKE YOU NORMALLY ARE!”   “nah, i decided i wanted to remember my first real christmas without a hangover.”  Red replied simply.  “pancakes sound good?” “BUT RED, HOW WILL YOU COOK WITHOUT YOUR HANGOVER INDUCED GENIUS?” Sans took this moment to enter the room laughing.  Red shot him a glare, before giving Papyrus a tired look.  “i think i can manage pancakes.  i’ve made ‘em enough sober now that they’re not a complete mystery.” “CAN I HELP?” Red smiled. “’course, you can help me get the ingredients together.” Papyrus quickly went to go raid the fridge for ingredients.  “CAN I HAVE A SNOWMAN SHAPED PANCAKE?” “...i can try, i guess.” “can i have one shaped like a reindeer?” “yer gonna get a circle and yer gonna fucking eat it.” Sans chuckled and sipped on his coffee.  It was actually really sweet, just how far Red was willing to go to try and make Papyrus happy.  Yet something was still bothering him... Red’s brother.  Other Papyrus.  From what little Red had told him, and the... questionable things Alphys had told him, it really bothered him to imagine his sweet, naive little bro as...well, someone like Red.  Someone with LV.  Violent.  Paps had the potential to be dangerous, yes, but not the intent.   It would’ve had to be something devastating to get Papyrus to fight back to the point he gained LV.  

Subject One Reports

Subject One was asleep in his cage after Lights Out when he was disturbed by a strange monster.  It isn’t Doctor or Brother.  He isn’t sure what it is, but it’s asking questions he doesn’t know how to answer.  Is Outside really so different?

A semi-realistic take on Handplates by Zarla.

Click here to read on Archive of Our Own, or read more below the cut.

This was very heavily inspired by Zarla’s “Handplates” comics.  As I was reading Handplates, I found it interesting that the skeleton brothers are so very well-adjusted.  Humans, at least, learn from those around us: without outside influences, people in a Handplates-style situation would take much more after their captor than the skelebros do.  There’s an interesting comic of Gaster teaching slang to Sans, but this was written before that was posted.

The brothers know there true names here, but that’s more because I wanted to make it easier to keep the boys separated.

I am well aware that there are tons of differences between this and Handplates proper.  It isn’t intended to be in any way canon to that universe, merely an alternative and a tribute.

“H-hello?”

Sans lifted his head off his brother’s shoulder.  That...didn’t sound like Doctor.  He carefully extracted himself from his brother’s hold and crept closer to the bars that lined the entrance of his cage.

There was a light at the end of the hallway, moving back and forth in a rhythmic scanning pattern.  It was strange; there wasn’t any light source in that location that Sans could remember.

“Hello?” the voice called again.  It sounded high, hesitant, like Papyrus’s when he asked awkward moral questions.

The light began moving, swaying back and forth as it came closer.  Sans watched the floating light curiously.  It wasn’t demanding anything, wasn’t causing him any pain, but something told him to hide. He shrugged off the impulse.  Where would he hide?  Even if there was someplace to hide in the cage (and experience told him there wasn’t), how would he hide a sleeping Papyrus as well?

The light stopped right in front of the bars to his cage.  “O-oh!  Hello!” the voice said.

Sans just stared.  He wasn’t sure what that word meant.  He’d heard Doctor say it sometimes when he spoke into the communication box, but he didn’t see any communication box near the light.  He couldn’t see anything besides the light at all, actually.  It was just a floating rectangle of bright white facing the cage.

“O-oh!  S-sorry.”  The rectangle was flipped down towards the ground.  In the ambient light, Sans made out the shape of a new monster standing behind the rectangle.  It was a little taller than he was, though shorter than Doctor.  It wasn’t skeleton-shaped, but thicker, like monsters in some of the picture books he had let them see when they were smaller.  The monster was Justice-colored and wearing a bone-colored coat, like Doctor usually wore.

“A-are you okay?” the voice asked.

Finally, a question he could answer.  “My status is satisfactory,” he said.

“U-um, what?”

Sans repeated himself, his browbone wrinkling in confusion.

“O-okay, that’s, um, a strange way to put it.”

“Why?”

“M-most people s-say something like, ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I’m hurt’ or something like that.”

“That seems inefficient.”

The strange monster blinked.  “Um, I...I guess?  Maybe?  So...who are you?”

“I am Sans the skeleton.”

“N-nice to meet you, S-Sans!  I’m A-Alphys.”

Sans wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this information.

“A-are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am not sure where your confusion lies?”

“You really d-don’t act like a-anyone else I’ve e-ever met.”

“That seems logical.  Doctor always says I am deficient.”

The Alphys made a face that looked disappointed to Sans.  He felt his soul sink.  The first monster from Outside he’d ever met, and he’d disappointed it.  He cleared his nonexistent throat.  “My brother is a great improvement over me, if you would prefer to speak with him instead?”

“O-oh, there’s another one?”

“Yes.  We are subjects one and two.  I am subject one, my brother is subject two.  Doctor made us as tools to assess the strength of the barrier, and ideally to break it in the near future.”

The monster’s eyes widened.  “Y-you’re gonna b-break the barrier?  Really?”

“If trials follow Doctor’s hypotheses, then yes.”

The Alphys looked down the hallway, nervous.  It shifted the rectangle of light so the hallway it came from was illuminated, but there was no movement.  After a moment, the Alphys’s attention returned to Sans.  “Who is, um, ‘d-doctor?’  Which doctor do you m-mean?”

He cocked his head to the side.  “I apologize for my deficiency, but I do not understand your question.  Doctor is…” words failed Sans. He tried to recall descriptive words, but it had been so long since he’d seen the books on colors and shapes that his memory was a little fuzzy.  He didn’t need to remember which color was ‘yellow’ or ‘red’ when there was much more important information Doctor gave him.  “Doctor is...long?  Up?”  He stretched his hands towards the ceiling, trying to convey meaning through gesture.

“Y-you mean, tall?  He’s tall?”

‘Tall’ sounded right to Sans.  “Likely.  He is also, um, brittle?  Not sturdy?”  He brought his hands together, palms facing each other.

“Thin, you mean?”

“Perhaps?”

“Skinny, maybe?  Is that the word you’re looking for?  Not fat?”

“I...am unfamiliar with those words.”

“O-oh.  Sorry.  Um...do you know wh-what kind of m-monster he is?”

“Naturally, he is a skeleton monster.  A real monster, not like Papyrus and I.  Oh, are you well?”

The Alphys had taken a step away from the bars and had a hand over its mouth.  Sans wasn’t sure what that was meant to accomplish, but when it started shaking its head a moment later he assumed the gesture denoted distress.  “Y-you mean Dr. G-Gaster.  Dr. Gaster m-made you.”

“I am unfamiliar with those words?”

“O-oh my, it m-makes so much sense.  Y-you even talk l-like him.”

He frowned.  Of course he spoke like Doctor; Doctor was the only real monster he’d ever come into contact with.

“A-and what d-do you mean, that you and P-Papyrus aren’t m-monsters?  Aren’t you a-alive?”

“We are alive.  We are tools, not monsters.”  Sans wasn’t sure why that comment caused tears to trickle down the sides of the monster’s face.  “Are you in pain?  I am unsure why you are crying.”

“O-oh, sorry, no.  I-I’m f-”

The lab lights came on in a single blinding wave, not the gradual process Sans was used to.  The Alphys hissed and covered its eyes.  Perhaps it was afraid of light?  Or did it know what the lights meant?

The tap-tap-tap of Doctor’s shoes came down the hallway moments later, much faster and heavier than Sans was used to.  There was a scrabble as the Alphys attempted to find some hiding place in the hallway, but Sans knew from previous escape attempts that it was no use.  One end of the hallway led to the main labs: the experiment rooms, isolation chambers, recovery rooms, and the door Doctor used to access Outside.  The other end terminated at a storage room.

There was no way out.

“What do we have here?”  a familiar voice asked.

Sans wasn’t sure whether Doctor was referring to Sans or the Alphys, so he remained silent.  He did stand at attention next to the bars, though, in case he was needed.

“Subject One, report.”

“The Alphys came down the hallway with a light,” Sans said.  “It inquired about my health, and I provided a status update.  It then requested an analysis of you.  I provided one as best as I could with my deficiency of language.”

“And what was your analysis, Subject One?”

“We concluded that you are tall and thin.  Or skinny.”

Doctor made that strange noise he made when he was pleased, so Sans relaxed a little.  He was unsure what had pleased Doctor, but sometimes the monster showed emotions he didn’t understand.  It was part of being a real monster, he’d been told over and over again.

Doctor looked back down the hallway.  “Little Alphys.  An intern in our mechanical department.  Aberner’s daughter, correct?”

“U-um, y-yes?”  Sans heard the Alphys’s voice echo a little, but couldn’t see it.

“Whatever are you doing all the way down here?”

“I-I was curious-”

“I am certain your father has warned you about such things around my lab.”

“W-well, yes, b-but-”

“And you elected to disregard him.  I see.  Subject One, wake Subject Two.  I have a valuable lesson for you both.”

Sans scrambled over to his brother.  Papyrus was half-awake already, his sleep disturbed by the light and sound, so getting him upright and presentable was an easy task.  Both held out their hands without a fight when Doctor opened the door.  The control cuffs were relatively new, implemented after Sans had tried to escape one time too many while Doctor’s back was turned, and he already hated them with a passion.

“Follow me,” Doctor said.

Sans did as he was ordered, but kept glancing at the strange monster.  Doctor had the Alphys caught in blue magic.  Escape was impossible.

He felt...disappointment?  Regret?  It was the same way he felt when he failed one of Doctor’s logic tests, like he should have been able to do something but his deficiencies were too great.  Had he failed some test from the Alphys?  He thought back over their conversation. Perhaps he should have been better at using his descriptive words?

Doctor led them to the examination room and closed the doors. “Stand against the wall and watch,” he ordered.  He held the Alphys down with some difficulty, despite the blue magic, but eventually wrenched both its arms and its legs to the table.  Sans hadn’t noticed before, but the Alphys had a tail; this Doctor had to tape down, as the examination table didn’t have a restraint for such an appendage. Another length of tape went over its mouth to silence its cries.

Finally, the Alphys was restrained and quiet.  “Watch carefully,” Doctor said.  “This is what happens when you fail to obey.”

Both watched.  Sans could feel Papyrus shifting in confusion, but didn’t dare say anything.  He’d explain what happened with the Alphys once they were returned to their cage.

The procedure Doctor used on the Alphys was not very scientifically sound.  There were far too many unmitigated risks, from what Sans could see.  Perhaps Sans’s deficiencies were preventing him from understanding the procedure, but it looked to him like Doctor merely intended to harm the Alphys instead of using it to better understand anything.

The Alphys began wailing pitifully halfway through the procedure, and Sans’s soul beat in sympathy.  Papyrus shuffled closer, apparently affected by the sound as well, and Sans carefully adjusted his hands in his control cuffs so that the back of his hand brushed against the back of his brother’s.  It was the most he dared.

“One point of health left,” Doctor said, finally.  “You have been a very bad little girl, Alphys.  The question now stands: should I let you go, or should I take care of you like the rat you are?”

The Alphys made muffled, distressed sounds.  Sans could only guess that it wanted to be released.  That’s what he would want, anyways.

“Oh?  You wish to contribute your body to science?  A noble endeavor, my dear, but I am afraid I have nothing to learn from you. You see, I performed as many experiments as I dared on monsters before creating my tools.  It is...frowned upon Outside to experiment on the living, you see.  The ignorant fools fail to understand my higher purpose.”  Doctor walked slowly around the table.  “In short, Alphys, you are useless.  Well?  Anything to say?”

The Alphys was crying again.

“Very well.”  A single bone appeared in Doctor’s hand, which he used to give the Alphys a single firm tap on the head.  Immediately it stiffened, sobbed once, then dissolved into a cloud of grey-white dust.

Doctor retrieved his communication box and pushed some buttons. After a moment, he spoke.  “Hello.  Yes.  Doctor Aberner, correct?  I regret to inform you that your daughter, Alphys, snuck into my private lab while I was away.  I found her playing with some very dangerous tools.  ...No.  I made my way back to the lab as soon as I was alerted of a foreign presence, but I fear my appearance must have startled her. I could retrieve nothing but dust...and her clothing, of course, if you wish it.

“Oh, naturally, I will return it to you.  My condolences to your family.  I only wish she had not gotten involved in such things.  Do you know how she could have come to be down here?  No, I understand. The investigation can wait, of course, until you have a chance to mourn.  I am certain the security team has tapes; there is no need to trouble you or your family unless some kind of foul play shows up.

“Very well.  No, I fear I am still in shock myself; I have not had the opportunity to collect it.  No, you may not come down here.  I am blocking off this lab until further notice; I would hate to have a repeat of this...tragedy.  Yes, you may meet me in the first floor lobby.  It may take me some time to collect myself, but I shall meet you there as soon as possible.”

He pushed another button on the communication box, then looked over the brothers.  “A real monster lost her life today because she was not obedient to the orders she was given.  Do not think for one moment that either of you are any better than she was.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Subject One, since you gave me a clear analysis of the situation, I will grant you a reward.  What is your request?”

Sans could feel his brother’s eyes on his face, making it hard to think.  He wasn’t used to this...choice.  It was confusing.  What was the right answer?  What was the wrong one?  What would happen if he failed this test?

“I request information on shapes and colors,” he said, finally, “So that I may be less deficient in those areas.”

Doctor’s eyes widened, and Sans sensed that he’d taken the monster by surprise.  It was a heady feeling, like he’d gained some kind of hold.  It only lasted a moment.  “I...well.  Very well.  I shall compile the information for you and will provide it to you in the near future.  I shall be busy over the next few days, however.  Both of you, come with me; I must give you food rations to last until I am next able to come down here.”

Both brothers were laden down: Papyrus with water bottles, Sans with food ration bars.  It was hard to hold onto so many of them with the control cuffs on, but they didn’t dare drop anything.

“You must ration them carefully.  If you eat and drink all your supplies in one day, you may die before I am able to return.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” they replied.

“Very well.  Back to your cage, now.  I shall clean up this...mess.”

The brothers followed.  Doctor grabbed a few books - treats he usually reserved for the recovery room - from his desk as they passed, and placed them on the single table in the brothers’ cage, along with the magic-fuelled lantern he gave them when he disappeared for long periods of time.

“Do not destroy these,” he said.  “I shall return as soon as I am able.  Until then...well.  Do try not to kill each other.”

He left, footsteps tap-tap-tap-ing back down the hallway, and the lab went dark.

Sans sat, still and quiet, for a long moment.  He felt very conflicted about what had just happened.  It had been interesting to talk with a monster from Outside, and he regretted not using the opportunity to ask more questions.  On the other hand...the Alphys had apparently been disobeying someone.  Doctor said that the Alphys had been warned not to come down to the lab, which made sense; being in the lab usually meant being hurt.  Doctor was the only one who could move through the lab without pain, but that was because he was the one performing experiments.

The Alphys...didn’t perform experiments at all.  It had asked strange questions, using words Sans didn’t know or could barely remember.  Did all monsters in Outside talk like that?  It was hard to imagine such a place.

“BROTHER,” Papyrus said, finally.  “I AM HUNGRY.”

Sans made his way over to the table on memory, then felt around for the lamp.  A brief flare of magic ignited the lamp and allowed them to see their supplies.

“I think we should only eat our usual rations,” Sans said.  “We do not want to run out of food before Doctor comes back.”

“THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!  I AM HUNGRY NOW!”

He looked over their rations, counting the food bars.  “We can each eat one now,” he concluded.  “We will eat one ration bar for the lights-on meal and the lights-off meal.  Two ration bars for each of us every day will last us...four days.  If Doctor does not return within three days, we will go down to one ration bar each day.  Is that acceptable?”

“WELL…”

“If you have a better ration plan, please present it.”

“NO, THAT IS ACCEPTABLE.”

Sans smiled and passed a ration bar to his brother.  They ate in silence, thinking.

“BROTHER, WHAT WAS THAT CREATURE?  WAS IT A MONSTER, OR ANOTHER TOOL?”

“It was a monster from Outside.  It called itself the Alphys.”

“THE ALPHYS?  I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING.  WAS IT LIKE THE FLUFFY BUNNY?”

“I...am unsure?  It did not look like the Fluffy Bunny.”

“YOU ARE CORRECT.”  There was a pause as Papyrus disposed of their food ration wrappers.  “WHY DID YOU REQUEST INFORMATION ON SHAPES AND COLORS?”

“The Alphys spoke of those things like they were ordinary.  It appeared distressed that I was unable to find the right descriptive words.  I wish to correct that deficiency.”

“IN CASE WE CAN GO TO OUTSIDE SOMEDAY?”

Sans looked around.  He was pretty sure Doctor wasn’t listening, but he couldn’t be too careful.  “...Yes.  It is bad enough that I am the deficient tool; I do not want to be deficient in language.”

Papyrus hummed.  “WILL YOU LET ME SEE THE INFORMATION AS WELL?”

“Of course!  You will probably remember it better than I will.”

 “THIS IS TRUE.  NOW, CAN WE GO TO BED?”

“Yes.  Have good dreams, Papyrus.”

“HAVE GOOD DREAMS, SANS.”

The light went out.

But It’s Not Funny

15. I’m Not Laughing Anymore

You would be lying if you said that you were doing well.

Despite the zoo adventure and other various simple hangouts, you were still preoccupied over the conversation with Frisk and Flowey. There was worry embedded in your heart over the condition of those kids and their fate. There was a sense of fear that hadn’t left you since that day.

Though, you had stopped trying to research. There was just nothing to research—at least nothing with even an ounce of validity. You had toyed with the idea of talking to one of the monsters, like, perhaps, Toriel, but you were hesitant. Frisk seemed very keen on secrecy, did Toriel even know about their purported powers?

You could talk to Alphys, maybe. She seemed the most qualified of any, what with her background, to explain monster and human magic. Yet, still, how could you frame your line of questioning in a way that didn’t expose Frisk? How would you explain your sudden interest in magic, souls, and the history of the monsters? Prior, you had been relatively accepting—preferring not to question your friends about their past but allowing them to share what they wished to when they wished to do so.

Then, there was Sans. He was the first person you had considered talking to, however, you had a sickly gut-feeling upon the notion. Additionally, you remembered Frisks words—after all, how could you not? They had played in your mind on repeat, occupied your night-time musings, and haunted your daydreams.

“No one knows…?” you had asked.

“Well, I think someone does… but I can’t exactly talk to him about it. He hates it. He made me promise that I wouldn’t reset.”

He. He hates it. He. He made them promise. He.

There were few “he’s” that Frisk could be referring to. Though, what were the odds? Surely, Frisk knew far more of the monsters than you did. What were the chances that they were referring to Sans? Perhaps, Papyrus?

You tried to picture Papyrus in the situation, but it just didn’t fit. Someone that sweet and that hopeful could not be privy to such devastating information.

Which, inevitably, led you back to Sans. You could certainly see the effects of trauma in his tired bones—hah, making puns even without your skeleton friend. Considering these things brought you also to a memory of Sans’ late nights. He often seemed like an insomniac, unable to sleep for the thoughts in his head. He’d confided in you about his nightmares; you had thought at the time that they were just fears and worries manifesting in his dreams. You remembered him talking about violence, about things that had happened, yet had never truly happened. Most poignantly, you remembered him admitting that sometimes it was hard to know what was real and what was not.

All evidence pointed towards the mysterious “he” that Frisk mentioned being none other than Sans.

Still, though, you were reluctant to ask him. The feeling resided deep within you; from a place you couldn’t identify. You just knew, it was not a conversation you wanted to have—or perhaps, you just weren’t ready for it yet.

So, it brought you back to Alphys. Perhaps, it would not be so hard to talk to her about magic without revealing anything—you questions could be disguised as curiosity that you had not entertained out of respect for them.

You needed to talk to Alphys, though it struck you that it would be difficult to question her with Undyne around. You needed to talk to Alphys alone.

Would she even want to talk about magic? Or, for that matter, what happened in the Underground?

Your phone buzzed, bringing you back into the present moment.

You looked around you, taking in the colourful shop around you and the quiet of a slow afternoon. Although Frisk had been allowed to resume working again—a fact you had been excited (and apprehensive) about, Frisk hadn’t come in today, apparently having too much work to catch up on in school. You hadn’t minded, knowing that the middle of the week was always slow for you in any case. Though, you did miss their company.

Gingerly, you grabbed your phone off of the counter and checked it. Just one message flashed on the screen, from Sans.

Sansational [12:50 pm]

knock knock.

You rolled your eyes, though a soft smile did grace your lips.

XXX–XXX–XXXX [12:51 pm]

who’s there?

Instantly, a response appeared.

Sansational [12:51 pm]

wendy

You played along, texting back “wendy who?”

Sansational [12:52 pm]

wendy you think we can go on a date?

For a moment it felt like your heart had stopped; for all too long you simply stared at the text message. Date? You thought, feeling not entirely unhappy with the notion.

However, before you could formulate a response, your phone dinged again and then again. As you opened the thread again, two more responses popped up.

Sansational [12:52 pm]

uh * coffee date

like we did before

lol

oops

You could feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, though you couldn’t identify why. You shook yourself and typed out a response.

XXX-XXX-XXXX [12:53 pm]

cant leave now, at the shop alone

after work?

Sansational [12:53 pm]

how about dinner?

 The rest of the day went without much incident, although Greater Dog did come in for a quick groom—apparently their family was taking photos today and he wanted to look his best. You smiled at the image of their huge family getting together for pictures—how cute.

As you were cleaning up the backroom and locking up, there was the sound of the door chiming.

Without looking, you called out, “Hey, we’re closed!”

“That’s the hope,” came a familiar gravelly voice.

You smiled, emerging from the backroom with a dirty, hair-covered rag in hand, “Oh, hey Sans! I didn’t know you were coming here.”

He looked you over, you with your apron and washcloth, with dog fur littering your clothes, and your hair tied back—though now strands of it were sticking out at odd angles.

Sans appeared as cool as ever, hands in the pockets of his deep blue jacket, wearing his typical gym shorts and converse. It fit him, despite the fact that you had never seen him partake in anything remotely sports-related, or for that matter, active.

“Thought you might be bonely without the lil’ squirt.”

You nodded, “Yeah, actually, I used to love working alone, but now? I’m so used to having someone with me.”

Luna, at that point, trotted up to Sans with her tail lowly wagging. She sniffed at him curiously, ears at attention, though they relaxed once he placed a skeletal hand on her head.

As he pat Luna, you finished cleaning and closing up the store.

The two of you chatted idly as you worked, and he continued to give Luna the attention she deserved.

With him here, you couldn’t stop thinking about Frisk and their words. It would be so simple just to ask—“hey, do humans have magic?” Or anything about the conversation without giving too much away, yet, when you looked at him, something stopped you.

Perhaps, it was the clear exhaustion rimming his eye sockets, or the subtle way his shoulders were hunched. Perhaps, it was something in you that was making you hesitate.

“Almost done?” His voice broke into your thoughts, drawing you back from your musings.

“Just finished!” You said with glee, before adding, “Can we stop at my place first? I definitely need to wash-up.”

You gestured at your fur-covered self.

“Fur real,” Sans laughed, “S’no paw-blem.”

You snickered at his joke, then got ready to leave.

 It was a short walk to your apartment building; however, you had the uncomfortable sense of being watched. Every time you looked around, though, the streets were empty. Sans had noticed your nervousness, even trying to question you about what was wrong, but you couldn’t quite articulate what was bothering you.

Still, you arrived uneventfully.

“Okay, just give me like fifteen minutes to shower and dress, then we can go.”

He just nodded from his place on the couch, Luna already having clambered into his lap.

Fifteen minutes later, you were fresh and ready to go.

“So, where to?”

 You arrived at Grillby’s as afternoon rolled into the evening, it was still brisk outside—winter still in full-swing, though it hadn’t snowed yet. The sky was clouded and dark, the air cool and still, but you felt warm as you spent time with Sans.

After securing a booth, Sans ordered a bottle of ketchup, a burger for himself, and one for you. He also ordered two drinks, though you weren’t sure what they were.

Grillby was serving, today—you were always in awe of how much he could do. He cooked, he cleaned, he worked the front, all while keeping rowdy customers from causing a scene.

Soon enough, there was food in front of your face and drinks were served.

Sans, as per his usual, absolutely drowned his burger and fries in ketchup—also taking a sip from the bottle for good measure.

You shivered, watching, before digging into your own plate.

The drink was as colourful as the previous you’d had on other occasions and though you had the temptation to drink it quickly, since it tasted so good, you had also learned your lesson from the last time.

It settled your nerves, making you more at ease. You hadn’t even realised how tense you had been beforehand.

“How’re you feeling?”

He always seemed to sense your mood.

“Better,” you answered truthfully.

“What was wrong?”

You paused, trying to figure out what to say, “I had a lot on my mind—what with the attack on Frisk and everything.”

“Did Frisk talk about it to you?”

You shrugged, lying, “Not really…”

Sans quirked a brow, then sipped his own drink, “I see.”

Suddenly, you saw an opening.

“Why?” You asked, “Did they talk to you about it?”

The expression on his face was unreadable before an easy grin took over once more.

“The kid and I get along, but we’re not exactly—I’m not exactly the person they go to with their problems.”

That surprised you, after all, you had seen the easy way that they joked with each other. They seemed like good friends, though with the context of your conversation with Frisk, it almost made sense that there would be some underlying problems between them.

He finished his drink, prompting you to drink yours a little faster. As you took the last dregs of it, he ordered another round.

“You trying to get me drunk?” You asked cheekily.

“Just trying to,” he paused, holding his drink up, “raise your spirits.”

The pun took a second to hit you, but you laughed wholeheartedly.

“Do you know why they call alcohol spirits?”

“No?” He responded quizzically.

“It’s because when they make alcohol, they distil it, and when they do that it is like they’re taking the essence, or the spirit, of whatever they use to make the alcohol.”

“Why do you know this?”

“I know a lot of things.”

He raised a browbone, “Oh?”

“You’ll just have to find out!”

“Oh, I will,” he said with a smirk.

The tone of his voice gave you thrills, though you weren’t sure why. You were feeling pleasant—pleasantly full of good food, pleasantly warm with the drinks, and pleasantly at peace with your company.

“I don’t know a lot about monsters, though,” you admitted.

“Well, I don’t think the humans knew about us.”

You nodded, sipping on your drink thoughtfully. Maybe, it would be alright to press a little bit.

“How did you guys get underground?”

Wrong question. The lights of his eyes disappeared for a moment and reappeared just slightly dimmer than before.

“It… is complex. I guess, the short of it, is that humans forced us into the Underground.”

You hummed in agreement, having already knew that much.

“Do you know much about magic?”

“Not a lot,” you said, thinking about the conversation with Frisk. Despite all that you had learned, you, in truth, still did not know a lot.

“Well, monsters are made of magic and can use it, but humans used to have magic too.” He stopped to take a drink, almost as though gathering his courage, “Several mages—human magic users—got together and used their powers to trap the monsters below Mount Ebott.”

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged.

“Humans don’t have magic anymore, do they?”

Something in his grin twitched, but he kept his easy smiling façade.

“As far as we know, most don’t.”

You noticed his word choice—not “they don’t,” but “most don’t.” It confirmed Frisk’s proclaimed powers. He knew something, but you weren’t sure what or how much.

“What’s with the sudden curiosity?”

You felt sheepish, not wanting to reveal anything that Frisk and you had talked about.

“I just wanted to know more about you guys, you know? That’s what friends do, they’re interested in each other’s history.”

The words felt like a lie, although they weren’t technically untrue. You were curious, you had been curious, but you certainly had other motives for asking these questions now.

He seemed to accept your answer, though.

“To patella you the truth, I don’t like thinking about it that much.”

Guilt washed over you like a sickly pestilence, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“S’okay, natural to be curious. I’d tell you anything you want to know.”

“You’re not ribbing me?”

He chuckled, “No bones about it. I appreciate that you wanted to be sensitive. I’d rather you know the truth from an actual monster than those crazy theories you humans post online.”

At that you laughed, your face flushing with some embarrassment, “Yeah, it didn’t take me long to figure out those were a skeleton of crap.”

He laughed, too, the sound rich and deep. It made you feel warm; it made your stomach squirm. You liked his laugh. Well, you liked his voice, too, with its almost sultry cadence.

“Would you show me your magic sometime?”

His skeletal face became tinged with blue, though you weren’t sure why.

“Sure, I can show you a trick or two.”

“Cool.”

 A couple of hours later, the two of you were certainly feeling the effects of those drinks, but it was entirely pleasant. Conversation came easily and naturally between you; the dinner—you hesitated to call it a date—had been a much-needed reprieve from everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

“You ready? It’s getting late…”

You nodded, checking your phone, and feeling a sense of surprise at how quickly the hours had passed.

“Geez, didn’t realise the time!”

Sans made to get up, reaching out a hand for you to take, “Need a hand?”

“Is that a clock pun?”

He snickered, you grabbed his hand gently, and he pulled you out of the booth and the restaurant. You liked the feeling of his bony hand as it engulfed your own. He was soft, but still firm.

You didn’t let go, even outside, and he didn’t protest.

The two of you walked down the street, hand in hand, in easy silence. All too soon, you reached the doors of your apartment building, but you didn’t want this night to end just yet.

“Want to come upstairs?”

He wiggled his browbone at you, to which you sputtered and blushed.

“Not like that!”

“I didn’t say a word.”