Sans' P.o.v

Needless to say, neither one of them were expecting company. My company, that is. I guess they assumed I would still be sleeping. I get it. I'm known for being lazy. It's half my trademark. Sans the lazybones, is what Papyrus is fond of referring to me as. I don't complain since I know he's right.

I mean, come on. Can you blame me? I'd like to see you bother caring anymore about anything productive once you're confronted with the truth of the matter. That everything and anything you could devote yourself to, doesn't alter what's inevitable. Knowing that, without any warning, this could all just disappear. In an instant.

Hard pill to swallow, isn't it? Even harder when it's reality, not just an idea in your mind.

Jobs? Wasted effort. I keep my relations limited. No sense drawing unnecessary attachments. All I need are who I've got. Why add any new faces to the party when they'll just forget? Means I'm punning for less, but, it's a small price to pay.

I've long come to the conclusion nothing else is worthwhile. Even so, I must be thick-skulled, as that doesn't stop me from trying. From putting myself out there, regardless of consequences. Suppose I'm just driven by a sense of justice. Judge and executioner. That's me.

Papyrus has this look of fierce concentration while stirring a pot swimming in uncooked noodles. He's so absorbed in his task, he doesn't notice me blocking the doorway to the kitchen. I grin at the sight, watching him. My bro's right where he belongs. Cooking spaghetti with a passion I can't hope to understand, yet, can respect all the same.

Well, there he is, in all his cool dude glory. Alive. Now, where's the kid? She has to be here somewhere. She wouldn't leave Papyrus unsupervised, would she? Of course she wouldn't. Frisk's too responsible, she wouldn't stray far from her pupil. I assure myself of this.

My eyesockets reluctantly tear themselves away, scanning for any sign of her. Within 2 minutes, I spot her. Frisk peeks at me, tucked under Pap's angled elbow. She looks dwarfed in size compared to him, most of his physique concealing her from view. Best I can make out are three wedges of her face. Cut-outs of a smooth forehead with damp hair clinging to it, large brown eyes surrounded by a strip of lightly tanned skin and part of her chin. Explains how I missed her to begin with.   

I flash Frisk a friendly grin and wiggle my fingers in a nonchalant wave. Inside, I'm mildly bitter over Pap's death. Yeah, it's not fair of me to bear a grudge. Especially when the kid probably doesn't have any memory of it. Still, I can't completely forgive. I'm wary. Of Frisk.

"Hey, kiddo." I greet. My smile is slightly forced.

What's visible of her face vanishes. Frisk reappears, moving to occupy Pap's shadow at his back. Shrouded in thin darkness, she folds her arms in front of her chest.

Her head tilts to one side, her expression an obvious question mark. "Sans? What are you doing awake?" She frowns. Frisk reaches up, brushing a wayward strand of hair off her forehead; smoothly tucking the piece behind her ear. 

"Human? Did I hear you correctly? Sans has joined us?" Papyrus pauses his important work of stirring. He turns to regard Frisk, brandishing a weird dripping spoon with round teeth in his right glove. Vaguely I recall the kid had a name for it. What was it again? Oh, right. Spork.

"Yeah, he's over by the entryway, Pap." Frisk points in my immediate direction. 

Papyrus tracks her finger and his eyesockets meet mine over three feet of tiled flooring. He raises a browbone. "Sans? Why are you not sleeping?" His displeased tone demands explanation.

I shrug. "Can't sleep." Hey, it's not a lie. More like half-truth. Way things are, I was willing to bet my soul I wouldn't be able to sleep so long as Pap's life was threatened. I didn't want to risk it. I wasn't about to go into details in front of them, though. They wouldn't understand anyway even if I did try explaining. I'm alone in this.

Frisk casts a sympathetic glance. "More nightmares, Sans?" she ventures gently.

I scowl darkly. Really, kid? So much for promising to leave that between us. Right as the final word rolls off her tongue, her eyes widen, realizing too late what she said. She claps a hand over her lips, growing pale. Her shoulders droop.

Irritated, I glare at her. She lowers her hand, uncovering her mouth. Her lips move soundlessly, forming an 'I'm sorry'. The sullen light in her eyes lends a sincerity to the unspoken sentence.

I sigh heavily, forcing my hands into my hoodie's roomy pockets.

"You've been having nightmares, Sans?" Papyrus speaks softly. I nod slowly. "For how long?" There it was, the question I wanted to avoid.

I flinch. Absently my fingers scratch the ridges of my neck, bone grinding bone. "Uh, maybe going on 4 weeks now.." I confess hesitantly, trailing off.

I hadn't wanted Papyrus to know that I've been having nightmares. I wanted nothing more than to shield my brother from the grisly truth. Protect his innocent outlook on life. Which was the whole point of swearing Frisk to secrecy several nights ago.

"4 weeks?" Papyrus echoes quietly, incredulous. Raw hurt flickers, whirling in the depths of his eyesockets. Fidgeting uncomfortably, I want to avert my gaze, but, I don't. It's my fault. I'm the reason that hurt's there. "Sans, why did you not tell me sooner?"

I chuckle nervously. "Pap, bro, come on. It's not a big deal. I'm fine. Just too much late night news, you know?" I'm lying. I don't watch the news. Never have, never will.

And my brother knows this very well for his hurt is swiftly exchanged in favor of annoyance.

Papyrus plants both hands on his hips. "Brother, you do not watch the human's news. Only the human does. Isn't that so, human?" Eagerly, Pap whips to his left to face the kid, seeking validation from Frisk. She's not there.

A quick thorough sweep by my brother reveals she's gone from the room entirely.

So are the set of knives from their place next to our cutting board. Both Christmas gifts from Toriel to my bro to assist in his cooking ventures.

Frisk stole the knives. Swiped them while we weren't paying attention. What was she planning on doing with those eight knives? Why did she need all of them? Collection? Trophies?

Dread settles hard in my gut as the answer stares me in the skull. She's going to kill the monsters.

This was Chara all over again. Has to be. That demon was going to wrench my, no, our  happy ending away. No, I won't allow it. I'll kill her before that happens.

Magic surges within me, fueled by hate and anger. Through the cyan haze flooding my left eye, I glimpse Papyrus looking to me with concern and worry. I envy his ignorance sometimes. 

I spare him a false reassuring smile then I pivot on my heel and burst down into the black hall.
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A/N: Whoo, another chapter done! Hooray for progress! I'm really bad with procrastinating, but, I motivated myself to complete this chapter for your enjoyment.

I'm loving this story, I really am.

Ah, I can't think of anything else to say.... Too many feels from this part. So, I guess that's enough from me. Thank you so much for reading. Remember to vote if you enjoyed. Comment if you'd like to leave feedback. Any vote or comment is greatly appreciated. Thank you again! Until next chapter!
-J