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dragonasheswrites-blog · 6 years

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The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 7: In Which Skeletons are Explained

...From a scientific and magical point of view, of course.

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

Previous: Chapter 6: In Which Everybody Threatens Sans

Next: Chapter 8: In Which The Internet is Invoked

Click here for the story overview.

By the time Sans tracked down Attie (who had somehow crawled into the dryer and was rocking herself back and forth) it was after 1:00.

This was a problem, he realized as he consulted the schedule Undyne had pinned to a cupboard with a paring knife. Lunch was supposed to end at 1:00, and he had no idea what to even start cooking.

“Can I have a hot dog?” Attie asked. “You make hot dogs, right?”

“Uh...sure, but…”

“Okay! Where are they?”

“I don’t think I…” He checked the fridge, just in case. The shelves, to his surprise, had actual groceries on them. Huh. Someone must’ve stocked up. Half of this stuff he didn’t even recognize. Weird.

To his everlasting shock, one drawer held a six-pack of ‘dogs. On the package was a pink sticky note covered with Boss’s handwriting:

YOU CAN HAVE HOT DOGS FOR NO MORE THAN ONE MEAL PER DAY, SANS. BUNS ARE IN THE CUPBOARD. ~THE G&T PAPYRUS

Ooooookay.

Sure enough, a quick survey of the cupboards (also stocked with more food than Sans was used to seeing) turned up a package of buns - the good kind, not the cheap tasteless things he threw on the ‘dogs at his stand.

Cooking them properly was...more work than he really wanted. He didn’t have a rolling warmer in the apartment, and he didn’t want to wait for the ‘dogs to slow cook anyways. He slipped both ‘dogs into their buns and stuck them in the microwave for half a minute.

Amazingly, the ‘dogs didn’t explode (unlike most things he microwaved). He sent out a tentative thread of magic to feel for temperature, not trusting his bones to give him an accurate read. It felt...less than boiling hot, but beyond that he wasn’t sure.

“Uh, here, kid. Bone appetite, heh. Careful; not sure if it’s hot.”

“Okay!” Attie grabbed the ‘dog with both hands, took a big bite, and winced. “Iff a liffle hoff,” she said, mouth full. She swallowed anyways, so he wasn’t too worried.

“Hey, kid; if that’s too hot for ya, wanna see somethin’ cool?”

“Sure,” she said, before taking another huge bite.

Sans opened his mouth, tilted his head back, and shoved the entire hot dog, bun and all, into his mouth. He felt his magic protesting - he wasn’t really made to do this - but he ignored the discomfort and resisted the urge to cough.

Attie was staring at him with huge eyes, a half-chewed bite of hot dog visible in her mouth. He waited a moment for his magic to dissolve the ‘dog enough to talk, then laughed at her. “What, you can’t do that?”

“No,” she said around her masticated food. She closed her mouth, realizing her error, then chewed and swallowed with a thoughtful look on her face.

Sans knew that look.

The girl held the remaining half of her ‘dog out to him. “Teach me,” she demanded.

“Yeah, no, kid.”

“Why not?”

“Humans aren’t built like us. You’ll choke yourself, then Undyne’ll kill me, then Boss’ll kill me, then your mom and her mom’ll kill me. I’ll be super dead.”

“You’re silly, Mr. Sans.”

“Yep. That’s me, regular comedian.”

“Teach me!”

"No, kid!”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” She blinked rapidly, her lower lip extended.

“What, is that supposed to make me more willing to teach you how to suffocate on ‘dogs? Hell no, kid! And stop making that face; the lip shit is super creepy!”

“Awww,” Attie muttered, dejected, to her ‘dog.

“Tell ya what. You finish your ‘dog, and when it’s science time I’ll tell you all about how a skeleton can eat a whole ‘dog at once. Okay?”

“Okaaaaay.” She finished her meal in the largest bites possible, sending herself into more than one coughing fit.

Science wasn’t next on the list, though. Next was something called Grammar, which Attie tried her best to wiggle out of. She wouldn’t capitulate until Sans reminded her that she couldn’t see her mom until her schoolwork was done.

Schoolwork went by very quickly after that.

He wasn’t sure how much of it was actually correct - according to the note Undyne had left, the worksheets would be delivered to Tori for grading - but he was impressed by her speed.

True to his word, he spent the entire 45-minute “Science” time slot sitting at the dining room table explaining what he knew about a skeleton’s magical digestive system. He even let Attie drop things into his mouth - jelly beans, mostly, after they found some in the cupboard and he accidentally revealed that he’d never eaten them before - so she could see that they vanished instead of dropping out the bottom of his skull.

“You don’t look like a real skeleton,” Attie said, peering intently at the juncture where his skull met his spine. “You’re shaped really different.”

“I promise you, I am 100% a real skeleton. I just don’t look like a human skeleton.” And if he had a buck for every time he’d had to explain that to a human he’d have a whole herd.

“That’s what I meant, sorry.” She narrowed her eyes, then leaned over and slapped both hands to Sans’s cheeks.

He flinched, hard, but the impact - despite its force - did no actual damage. He stifled the urge to slap her hands away. “What’chu up to, huh?”

“Your face feels funny.” She tapped her fingertips against his cheekbones. “You feel kinda soft.”

He growled. He wasn’t used to being touched, and having someone - even someone so small - put her hands on his face was really uncomfortable. “You can stop that now, kid. Don’t make me remove you.”

She paused, then looked him in the eye sockets. She must have been able to read some part of his expression because she snatched her hands away and sat back into her chair. “Sorry, Mr. Sans.”

“‘Tsokay. Just...don’t do that again, yeah? You wouldn’t want me to put my hands all over your face, would’ja? No? Then don’t do it to other people.”

“But you’re so cool!"

He coughed. “That’s no excuse, kid. You gotta ask before you do that to someone.”

“Why?”

“It’s...polite?”

She tilted her head to the side. “But you don’t care about being polite. You’re a asshole.”

“Just...it’s...yer mom’d kill me if I taught you bad habits, okay? And it makes people uncomfortable, and I know you’re too young to really understand yourself in relation to others but you don’t do things like that, okay? You’ll learn as you get older.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s kinda rude to call people assholes. Just...while we’re on the topic.”

She giggled. “Okay. But you still are one.”

“You got that right.”

Silence.

He rubbed the back of his vertebrae. “Ooookay, then. Uh, what’s left on the list?”

Attie ran into the kitchen and consulted the note. “Art!” she called back.

“Huh? Art? What kind of pansy school bullshit is that?”

The girl stomped back into the dining room. “My favorite."

“...Oh.” He pondered this. “So...what do you do for ‘art?’ I don’t know a damn thing, but isn’t art pictures and stuff?” Hadn’t Boss called his spaghetti ‘art’ at some point? Did that count?

“I mean...I guess I can color,” she said. “I have my coloring pencils in my bag!”

“Okay, but...aaaand she’s gone.” Sans pondered chasing after the kid, but decided it would be too much effort. He was tired. Between keeping up with Attie and texting Frisk periodically throughout the day, he really just wanted a nap.

She returned a few minutes later with a box of pencils and a pad of paper. She didn’t say anything or ask questions - a miracle, given how the rest of her schoolwork had gone - but instead hummed to herself as she emptied the box of pencils across the table and began to draw.

The scratching of the paper and the off-key humming was...strangely calming, actually…

“Mr. Sans!”

“Hrk-wha?” He sat up quickly and looked around. When had he put his head on the table?

Attie was leaning towards him. Her pencils were packed up and sitting neatly atop a small pile of loose papers. “You were asleep,” she said.

“Oh. Uh, sorry, kid.”

“‘Tsokay. Mommy takes naps sometimes too. I don’t usually take naps anymore ‘cause I’m a big girl now, but Mommy says that sometimes grown-ups work too hard and have to take naps.”

“Yeah, sometimes.” He was feeling pretty groggy.

“Also, your phone was ringing.”

“Shit!” He dug around in his pocket until he found the offending hunk of metal.

“Bad word!” Attie howled.

Frisky Dreamer 3:25 PM Sans, you’re late for your check-in. Just because I’m drugged into unconsciousness does not excuse you not sending an update and stuff. I am so high right now Ignore that last one

Frisky Dreamer 4:03 PM Sans, I haven’t heard from you in two horse. Hours.

Frisky Dreamer 4:22 PM SNAS, ANSER UR DAM PHONE!

“Uh, kid? Don’t you have a phone too?”

“No...oh! Wait!” She pushed herself back from the table and tottered off down the hallway. Sans sighed and tapped out a message.

You 4:26 PM Were doing art Kid really drew me into it

The response was immediate.

Frisky Dreamer 4:26 PM You fell asleep again, didn’t you.

You 4:27 PM Hey do u wanna have us come visit u or not

Frisky Dreamer 4:27 PM Whatever.

He grinned. Apparently, that worked on both mother and daughter. Speaking of which… “Kid? You find that phone? We need to head out if we’re gonna go see your mom.”

“I found it!” She returned with the phone in all its pink and blue glory. “I have a message from Mommy, see?”

There was, indeed, a message from Frisk asking (in a much nicer tone) how her day was going.

“Hey, what’s that less-than-three thing mean?”

“Oh. It’s a soul! See?” She held the phone on its side.

“That’s...weird. And isn’t that upside down?” Sans flipped the phone on its other side.

“But I’m a human! Our souls go the other way.”

“Oh. Right. Anyways, are you ready to go see yer mom? I’d better let her see for herself that you’re in one piece. I don’t think she believes that I haven’t eaten you yet.”

Attie giggled, but awkwardly bundled into her coat and shoes anyways. She seemed to be struggling with her shoelaces. It was funny to watch.

“You, uh, got that, kid?”

“Maybe. These aren’t my favorite shoes. My favorite shoes are pink and they have flowers on them and they light up when I walk, which is why they’re my favorite. Those ones have velcro on them so I don’t have to tie them, but these ones just have shoelaces.”

Sans nodded noncommittally. He briefly considered helping her but…

...Nah.

She eventually knotted them into submission and tucked the ends of the laces inside the top of her shoes. Shrugging, she grabbed the stack of papers and tucked them under her arm. “Okay! I’m ready!”

“Uh...what’s with that stuff, kid? I thought that was your art.”

“It is! I drew pictures for Mommy. I’m gonna show her and see if she can hang them up in her hospital room. She usually hangs them up on the ‘frigerator, but there isn’t a ‘frigerator in her room I don’t think.”

“Fair enough. Okay, you ready?”

“Yep!”

He put both hands on her shoulders. “One, two,” and... teleport.

Attie grabbed onto his arms for support when they reappeared in a protected nook across the street from Ebott Medical Pavilion. “Oh! That time it wasn’t so bad!”

“Yeah. You should get used to it soon enough.”

“That’s pretty cool! Can you teach me how to do that...that…”

“‘Ts called ‘teleporting,’ kid. Disappearing and reappearing in a different place, kinda like the world’s best shortcut. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but...it can get pretty sciencey. And no, I’m pretty sure I can’t teach you how to do that, either.”

She pouted all the way up to her mom’s room.

He opened the door first, not wanting to interrupt anything, but Frisk was awake. And waiting, of course. “Sans,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument, “Why don’t you come on in.”

He came right the heck on in, one hand guiding Attie in front of him. “Say ‘hi’ to yer mom, kid.”

The girl paused for a moment, staring at her mother. Frisk did look pretty bad still. Sans hoped Attie wasn’t going to scream or cry or cause a fit; he knew he’d be blamed if she did.

“Hi,” she said in a very quiet voice.

Frisk smiled. It was the same smile she’d worn earlier when he sent her the picture of Attie and Undyne, and he fought the urge to look away. “Hey, baby girl. Won’t you come up and give me a hug?”

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you when you’re sick.”

“I’ll be okay. Just make it a gentle hug. No jumping.”

The little girl tiptoed up to the bed, leaned up, and gently put her arms around her mother. They both sighed at the same time.

“Now what did you bring me? Oh-Sans, chair.” She gestured towards the aforementioned furniture, which had been moved against a wall.

Sans sat.

“I brought you pictures!” Attie said. She laid out each page individually on the bed, covering the blanket almost entirely. “This is the room where I slept last night. See? It’s full of skeleton stuff! It belongs to a guy called Mr. Boss, but Undie said that wasn’t his real name.”

“It isn’t,” Frisk said. “His real name is Papyrus. But go ahead.”

“Oh, right. This is Mr. Pa-py-rus’s room. He let me sleep on his bed, ‘cause he said Mr. Sans’s room was pretty messy. It is, y’know.”

“Oh? When were you in Sans’s room?”

“I hid in there before lunch. Mr. Boss - I mean, Mr. Pa-py-rus - came in and was beating up Mr. Sans because of paperwork. Then Mr. Pa-pyrus tried to fight me until Mr. Sans finished the paperwork.” She held up another picture. From his vantage point, Sans could barely see three blobby figures: two black and red, one blue and pink and black. “See? Mr. Pa-pyrus is trying to fight me ‘cause I told him not to beat up Mr. Sans. Mr. Sans finished the paperwork before he stopped talking. He talked a whole lot, more than Granny Ree does sometimes.”

“Papyrus...tried to fight you.”

“Yeah. I was kinda mad that Mr. Sans did paperwork instead of saving me, but it’s all better now.”

“What?”

“He said ‘I’m sorry, kid’ and I said ‘I forgive you.’ And he said that he would’ve stopped Mr. Papyrus if he’d really started fighting, so it’s okay.”

Frisk pulled her daughter in for another hug. Over the child’s head, she gave Sans a long, intense look. He squirmed in his chair a little.

“Fine. I guess...it’s okay, if you aren’t hurt. I’ll have to have a long talk with Undyne about this, though; I don’t want you in a house where someone’s going to attack you at random.”

“It wasn’t an ‘at random!’ He tried to fight me because I told him not to beat up Mr. Sans. Remember? I told you.”

“That’s right. Hey, Attie, could you do something for me?”

“Yyyep!”

“Can you get me a drink of water? There’s a water fountain at the end of the hallway, out and to your left. Here’s my cup. Go out, fill the cup with water, and come right back so you can show me the rest of the pictures. Don’t spill.”

“Okay, Mommy!” She wiggled off the bed, careful not to wrinkle any of her drawings, and left the two adults alone.

Sans glanced at the side table. “You already have a cup of water,” he muttered.

“That’s not the point. You know that.”

He did. “Look. You know that the best way to get Boss to stand down is to give him what he wants. He wanted paperwork; I finished the damn paperwork. It’s not my fault Undyne changed her schedule without telling me.”

“If you hadn’t fallen asleep in here earlier, you wouldn’t have had to rush.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly running on a whole lotta sleep. You know, after carting you and Attie all over town last night.”

Frisk’s hand clenched the blanket over her knee, then relaxed. “I...that isn’t what I wanted to talk with you about. Sans...does that happen on a regular basis?”

“The naps? Well sure. I’m-”

“Not the naps. Don’t play dumb. You know what I’m asking about.”

The look on her face said that she was not in the mood to be messed with; she wanted answers, and she knew he could give them. Strange, that this human was the only one to realize that his stupidity was an act. “...Yeah, I know. And…”

What could he say?

“Sans?”

“Yeah. Just...I don’t know how to answer that. Boss...he gets aggressive when he’s angry, you know? And I’m one of the things that makes him angry the most. It’s my fault, really. You get it, right?” He winked.

Frisk’s expression didn’t change.

“A-anyways, I’ll watch the kid closer. She can...I dunno, hide out in my room when he’s around. I’ll clean up and everything. That way she won’t have to see it.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. I didn’t ask why it happened, or whose fault it was, or how you plan to cover it up. I asked how often it happens."

“...Not as much as you’re thinking, but more than you’d like.”

“How typically vague. Are we talking once a day? A week? A month?”

“Couple times a week? I dunno. I’ve never charted it out.”

“Alright. Alright." Frisk took a deep breath. “That stops now. Whatever you and your brother do when there aren’t kids in the house, that’s your...ah...business-”

“Hey!”

“-but I won’t have the pair of you scarring my daughter. Both of you will be on your best behavior, alright?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Mommy!” Attie shuffled in with a glass full of water, her tongue peeking out from between her lips and a look of concentration on her face. “I...almost...have...the...water...OOPS!”

She tripped over her own feet and the water spilled.

“Attie!” Frisk was halfway out of bed before she was stopped short by the plastic tubes the doctors had stabbed into her arms.

It didn’t matter much; Attie was floating gently in mid-air, faintly glowing. “Blue!” she cooed.

“Sans,” her mother said, “Put her down. Gently.”

He did.

No one spoke for a long moment.

“I’ll excuse it just this once, because it looked like you were keeping Attie from getting hurt. But if you ever - ever - use blue magic on my daughter again, I will hunt you down. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, Boss.”

Frisk slammed her hand onto the bedside table, causing both Attie and Sans to jump. “I am NOT your BOSS, Sans!”

“Yeah, uh, sure.”

A nurse popped her head into the doorway. “Everything alright in here, sweetie?”

“Yes,” Frisk said. “We’re fine. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. Anytime a loved one is sick tempers run high, y’know? Y’all just take a deep breath; no worries. Oh, and visiting time is almost up, unless your honey there wants to stay the night.” The nurse wiggled her eyebrows.

It took Sans a beat to realize that the nurse meant him, not Attie, and he wanted to crawl into his own hood in embarrassment. “Nah, gotta get this kid into bed. Early mornin’ and all that.”

“Alright, then, sweet thang. Y’all take it easy and let me know if you need anything.” She closed the door gently behind her.

Sans carefully avoided looking at the humans.

“Alright, Attie; time for you to go now. Come give Mommy a kiss and head home with Sans, alright?”

There was a shuffle as Attie did as requested. “Can I come see you tomorrow? I didn’t get to show you the rest of the pictures.”

“Maybe. Mommy’s pretty tired. If everything goes well, then yeah.”

“Okay. G’night! Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

“You too, Attie.”

“I won’t. I bet the bedbugs are scared of Mr. Papyrus.”

“I’m sure they are.”

A small hand in his interrupted Sans’s studied ignorance of the proceedings. He glanced down to find Attie grinning up at him. “Ready to go, kid?”

“Yup!”

“‘Kay, then.” He gently started to tug her out of the room.

She resisted. “Wait! You didn’t say goodbye to Mommy!”

“Uh...bye, kiddo.”

“Her name isn’t kiddo, Mr. Sans.”

“Bye...Frisk?”

The woman on the bed breathed deeply, but didn’t look at him. “Text me when you get home. You owe me a few check-ins.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They left.

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Sans #Attie #Frisk #Homeschooling #Frisk is on pain meds #Vague discussions of abuse #Fixing problems fills Frisk with DETERMINATION #Even when they're Sans's problems #Those bed bugs are terrified of Papyrus by the way #The skeleton brothers have 0 problems with bedbugs #The lack of anything that would attract bedbugs has nothing to do with it

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