*Third POV*

When Frisk's eyes opened, the world solidified and her ears picked up the sound of a pencil scribbling against paper.

Confused by the sound, Frisk tried not to move, her mind trying to process what it could be.

She knew that it must be someone writing, but she was wondering who could be writing in her room while she was sleeping.

For a small fluttering moment, she hoped it was Toriel.

Frisk felt guilt seep inside her the moment she woke up about yelling at Toriel the other night. 

Had Toriel done anything wrong?

She was only being kind.

If Frisk should be mad at anyone, it should be Sans.

'You can't trust Toriel either,' Frisk reminded herself as her eyes stared at the brick wall next to her bed, 'You can't trust anyone here.'

But unable to fight her curiosity, (and hating her confusion) Frisk slowly rolled on her opposite side to see who was scribbling away at her desk.

To her surprise, (and dread) Frisk could see Sans, sitting at her desk with a dull number two pencil in his hand.

What bothered her most about the situation, was that he was writing with a dull pencil.

She would have sharpened it by that point, or at least gotten a new pencil.

He was so unorganized, Frisk hated him right then and there.

Seeing Sans was so eye catching for Frisk, she hadn't noticed the new clock or book that rested on the top of her desk next to Sans who was still writing away, even though he knew she was awake.

"What are you doing?!" Frisk yelled, so suddenly she shocked herself.

Sans jumped a bit, and his pencil stopped as he turned to face her, his eyes almost concerned, yet mostly confused.

When he saw that she was alright, he smiled a bit (which angered Frisk more) and continued to write on the scattered papers before him as he replied, "Working on a few cases. I thought that while you slept I could maybe help you a bit with these."

Frisk glared and sat up, slightly embarrassed (and disgusted) that he was in her room last night while she was sleeping.

She moved her smooth brown hair behind her ears and tried to smooth it down a bit, hating herself for looking so ruddy when she was speaking with one of The Underground members.

"Help me with them? It isn't my work," She stated, sitting on the edge of her bed and folding her arms, her eyes finally catching sight of the clock and book.

Silently, she thanked Toriel, but was cut short when Sans said, "Yes it is. I got a few cases for you to work on, so you aren't bored in here. Besides, they should be easy for you. You probably know a lot of these Cortex members."

Even with her curiosity tugging at her, begging her to stand up and check the pictures, Frisk held herself to the bed and stared at the skeleton, her eyes narrowed and strict.

"What if I don't want to work on them?" She argued, keeping her voice clear and strong.

"Then ya don't have to," Sans replied simply, shrugging and looking at her with a smile, "Except I know you will anyway."

Frisk tried to hold in a growl, yet she snarled and claimed, "You don't know that."

"Sure I do."

Frisk let out her low growl, and hated Sans even more for knowing more about her than she did of him.

"When I asked what you were doing," Frisk said, trying to change the subject, "I meant what were you doing in my room, not what you were doing on the table. It was obvious you were writing, by the way you were holding a pencil and the scattered papers and-"

"I know I know," Sans interrupted, waving away the conversation, "I know how smart you are. No need to prove it. Besides, anyone could have explained it that way, it's common sense."

Frisk slumped a bit and scolded herself slightly, her face softening with self pity as she realized she let her brain run away with her words again.

Before she could say something back to Sans, he continued, "I'm in here to get information."

Frisk blew a piece of her hair out of her face and scoffed, "Pfft, how? By asking again?"

"Yup."

"Figures."

"Except this time, I have a strategy."

This caught Frisk by surprise, and she looked at Sans curiously, suddenly wondering what he could have as his strategy.

Wasn't being kind his strategy?

Along with everyone else in The Underground?

As much as Frisk hated Sans, and wished for him to be out of the room, she hoped he would stay a bit longer and at least explain what he had in mind.

"I thought you already had a strategy," Frisk said, raising an eyebrow, "Being kind?"

Sans looked puzzled, and he scratched his skull under his hat as he chuckled, "Uh, well... I never knew that could be a strategy... That's just something ya should do normally."

Frisk stared at him, a bit shocked at what he had said.

He wasn't wrong, and she knew that.

But she was so stuck on the past, she must've held onto it, clinging to what Cortex had done and thinking of The Underground that way as well.

Everything they did made her feel like a fool, and it was because she was being a fool.

Though she hadn't realized it, and she pushed, "Then what's your 'strategy'?"

Without hesitation, Sans smiled and grabbed the chair he was sitting on, turning it to face Frisk (who was slightly startled at his movements) and setting it down, clasping his hands together and announcing, "And Eye for an eye."

Frisk stared at him for a long time, trying to process what he had said.

She knew she shouldn't over think it, but she felt for a moment that she might.

How could they give her something?

There was nothing she wanted from them. (That she could recall at the time)

In her over working head, Frisk thought that Sans must mean, "You give us information, and we won't beat you to a pulp."

It was a sickening thought, and Frisk wanted nothing to do with it.

So she snapped back, "An eye for an eye makes the world blind - Gandhi."

Sans looked slightly confused for a moment before he said, "Well, that quote makes no sense... - Me."

Frisk sighed and explained, "It means, that an eye for an eye is selfish. Giving an eye for an eye, will make the whole world selfish. Doing things just for a reward, is stupid and selfish. Getting people back, or, revenge is selfish. People should just do things without expecting something in return, and they should forgive those who have wronged them."

Sans waited until she was finished with her explanation, and when she was, her eyes were glistening and wide, like they always were when she was proving how smart she was.

Frisk thought that she had gotten her point across, and she smiled when she saw how speechless Sans was.

Except, he wasn't speechless, only waiting.

When he finally spoke, he was smiling and he said, "Funny you should say so, because it seems like you won't give us information unless you get something in return."

Frisk's smile fell, and her eyes turned back to their bland green as they darted to the side, realization sinking in.

Though she wouldn't give up easily, and she replied, "It's different for business. Like your servants. You pay them to work for you, you don't force them."

"Exactly what I thought you'd say," Sans said, receiving a sharp glare from Frisk, "So, I have a deal for you."

Frisk laughed a bit, and smiled slightly to herself for being right about something.

This is when he threatens her, yells at her to give him information for her life.

Except when Sans continued, ignoring her harsh laugh, he said, "If you will give me information, I will give you my own."

Frisk stopped laughing, her mind suddenly at full attention for what he had to say.

Information on himself?

Isn't that what she had been working for in the last five years?

How could he just so easily give it away?

That's when she thought it could be another trick.

As tempting as the offer was, he could have meant that she gives him a bunch of information, and he gives her one little fact, then goes on his way.

So, she decided to ask for more details, saying, "... How do you mean..?"

He shrugged and replied, "An eye for an eye. Question for a question. Answer for and answer."

When Frisk thought it through, she realized it was quite a clever tactic.

He must've known that she couldn't resist learning about him, the mystery she had been trying to decode for five (almost six) years.

And he couldn't risk loosing the information she had.

He needed it somehow, and this was the perfect way to obtain it.

Although the thing that puzzled Frisk, was the fact that he had hid that knowledge from her for years, never letting her have a glance or even peek at what could be going on in his head.

How could he just all of a sudden give that information up?

'Because you don't work for Cortex anymore, and you aren't going anywhere,' She told herself, staying silent for a while, 'If you can't tell anyone about his information, why would he hide it from you?'

Frisk then wondered why she was keeping the information from them in the first place.

She of course, had her reasons, but they were all fading to dust each second she was in The Underground.

They were too different from Cortex, better than Cortex, and it was shocking to her how her mind had been so used to the five years in that awful facility, she expected everything to be that way.

Foolish.

She knew better then that.

She had studied psychology and the humans mental qualities, she should know better than to let herself be a victim to it.

As she thought it over, she wondered if The Underground would do as Cortex had done.

So far, they were showing no signs of it.

Yet the risk was almost frightening to Frisk, and her mind flicked back to horrific memories of her strained screams as they filled the metal room, her eyes poring tears and her bones weak with pain.

It was too much, and she gulped it down, trying to fight her words from falling on Sans.

She wouldn't give him anything, unless she got something in return.

How could she have been so selfish?

Harsh things bring people to selfishness, and Frisk wasn't strong enough to fight it.

So, she answered Sans after a long while of thinking, "Fine. But I get the first question."

She didn't trust he would give her information after he asked his question, so she decided that asking first would be a guarantee.

Luckily, Sans shrugged, and replied, "Sure. Why not?"

It shocked Frisk how much he trusted her, and she tried to shove away the thought of his trust as she quickly asked, "Who are you?"

When Sans chuckled Frisk glanced away sheepishly, trying to prepare for what his answer could be (or why he was laughing).

"That's easy," He replied, "I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton."

Frisk growled and stated sharply, "That's not what I mean! I mean who are you really?! Like... You in your core!"

"That's not what that question means dolly," He teased with a grin, sitting back in the chair and tossing his hat onto the desk, (so out of place Frisk almost stood up and fixed it), "You got to be a bit specific in these exchanges."

Before Frisk could protest, hating herself and her words, wishing she could yell about how unfair her chance was, Sans quickly continued, "And because you asked your question, it's my turn."

Frisk groaned and folded her arms as she turned her head away, waiting for him to ask something about Cortex.

She was already preparing her answers, but what he did ask, shocked her a bit.

"Why won't you trust us?"

Frisk paused in her thoughts, and looked at him with puzzlement.

It was a strange question to ask, and she was surprised he didn't know.

Yet she wasn't going to tell him so easily.

As selfish and childish as it seemed, the only reason she didn't was because she didn't want to relive the experience, especially not with Sans.

Even though she had studied psychology, and knew that talking about tragic experience was like a broken leg - you don't start healing until you tell someone about it - she wasn't thinking clearly, and was too annoyed with Sans to be bothered.

Besides, she was slightly hungry, and she couldn't think straight on an empty stomach.

But she tried to anyway, and said, "How do you mean? You have to be specific don't you?"

She smiled at her snap, but he didn't seem to mind getting into detail as he clarified, "Well, I mean like, why do you hate us? You don't trust us at all, even after all we've done for you... why? Something tragic in your childhood?"

Frisk forced a laugh, and she hoped it wasn't too forced as she answered, "Not everyone has tragedy in their childhood, Sans."

"Of course they do. Everyone does. Small or big, it's tragedy."

"Well I didn't," Frisk stated sharply, sticking to the word childhood instead of recent, "Both my parents loved me dearly. I was an only child, but they raised me in respect and manners. I grew a thirst for knowledge, and my parents were proud of my work. I was a perfect A+ student, skipped a few grades and went to collage early."

Sans looked stunned at the information she had given him, and she didn't seem to mind knowing that it wasn't that important to hide it anymore.

After a moment of Sans's stunned silence, she finished, "I had a perfect childhood. Nothing tragic about it."

Sans didn't hesitate in replying when he stated, "There had to be something. No one just doesn't trust people unless they want a mental disease."

Frisk hated how he called it a mental disease, and knew for a fact that it wasn't a mental disease, it was only a mental way of thinking.

There was a huge difference between a mental disease, and a way of mentally thinking.

Mentally thinking can change.

"I may not be smart," He continued.

'No kidding,' Frisk thought to herself, rolling her eyes and looking away from him, not able to look at his serious eyes (that frightened her a bit).

"But I'm smart enough to see that there is something you are hiding, something that has happened to you. You're just hesitant on letting it out."

That's when Frisk's head snapped, and her fierce green eyes darted straight to the skeleton, a strong feeling boiling in her gut and trembling her bones, causing Sans to stare in frightened shock as she yelled out, "Fine? You want tragedy? I'll tell you my tragedy!"

Sans watched with startled eyes as Frisk stood up suddenly, her eyes wide and raged with her body trembling at the memories she was about to share.

When her mouth opened, her eyes fought tears, and she shouted out, "It was Cortex alright?! The sick bastards took me in as a member of their team, giving me all I asked for and talking about how my information could be used for good. But when I gave it to them, everything changed!"

Her words flowed with fury, and her stomach ached with the painful memories, the screaming, the words she cried out still stuck in her head, the sick voices that crawled around her.

With her eyes now tearing, and her body shaking terribly, she continued, "They abused the hell out of me! They threw me in this empty metal room with putrid files and pens, ordering me to do as they asked. Every time I refused, I'd be beaten."

Sans was staring in horror at her words, his eyes wide and his mouth open with empty words.

Yet he listened, and that was something Frisk never had.

So she wouldn't stop.

Speaking suddenly felt so good, and she finally felt like someone would listen to her useless problems and words.

Except this wasn't useless.

She knew that.

So why had she thought it was?

"I'd be sick at the end of the day, starving and weak. I wanted to be comforted BUT I NEVER WAS!"

Sans flinched at her raising tone, but he wouldn't stop listening, letting her heal her wounds and soften her mind.

Frisk clenched her fist in the hopes of stopping the shaking, yet it didn't work and seemed to make it worse as she continued, "I thought they wanted me to be happy, to be safe, I thought they wanted to take care of me. But I was wrong! They wanted nothing but my information! That's all anyone wants!"

Her breathing slowed, and her heart suddenly softened as she finished her rage, her body shaking and her stomach feeling as empty as her heart.

It was a strange feeling, as if everything she had ever held in was suddenly gone,  as if she was fragile and weaker than before.

Yet her heart felt pure, and her mind seemed to settle as the words in the air began to disappear.

"I wanted..." She concluded, her voice shaking, struggling to be strong, "To be taken care of..."

Sans only stared.

He couldn't move or say anything, and Frisk wondered if she had done the right thing.

Was telling him all of this right?

At least he had gotten the answer he wanted, which means that if she was lucky, he would give her the answers she wanted.

Why had she thought that?

She wasn't supposed to trust him.

So why... even a little bit... did she?

When Sans stood from the wooden chair, the creak the only sound in the room as he put it back to the desk, he grabbed his hat silently, and placed it on his head.

Frisk watched him and blinked a few times to get the tears out of her eyes, her body still shaking from it's weak faze.

As he walked to the door, one thousand questions filled her mind, and even though she wanted to ask all of them, the one she managed to get out in her weak voice, was, "... That's it...?"

Sans opened the door, and glanced behind him at Frisk, his mouth pulled into a small grin, and his eyes showing only kindness as he replied, "That's it. There will be more later. Just give me a moment."

Fear tickled Frisk's heart, and the feeling was so unpleasant she quickly asked, "B-But... W-what now...?"

Sans didn't hesitate, and he tipped his hat to her with a gentle smile as he said, "Now... I'll take care of you..."

With his last sentence, Sans left the room and shut it, leaving Frisk alone to think over all that had happened.

She was thinking over her actions, over how good it felt to tell Sans everything, she realized that it felt nothing like when she would read about it.

Even after all the psychology she had studied, she never knew how it would actually feel.

It felt... good.

While she thought about everything, she gulped and realized that this could have been a huge mistake.

Except after what he had said...

Nothing made sense to her anymore, and Frisk decided that she needed to find someway to distract her mind from things, until she had the chance to ask more questions.

Her head turned to the desk, and the sharpened pencil.

She stood up and sat in the chair, grabbing another pencil, and opening one of the files.

Then, she got to work.

********

A/N: HELLO MY DEAR FRANS FANS! (Or frabs.)

DID YOU LIKE THE CHAPPIE?!

OR ARE YOU LIKE, "Uh, trash."

EITHER WAY I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU!

Now... as promised.

We have hidden in the shadows of Soriel for too long...
The Frans fans have been nothing but loyal to all AUs...
Except when one is about Soriel... the ship of death...
We gotta do something about it.

Reapertale - Forgotten (SansxFrisk)

May love, rest in pieces.
And may death, rest in love.

I hope you guys like the cover!

Please do not steal it!

I worked so hard on it and I will die if someone takes it.

If you love me, you will respect my wishes, and keep it here.

Thank you.

What did you think of the chapter?

I hope you like the story so far!

THANK YOU!

I LOVE YOU ALL!

BYE