Gathering up all the courage you had, you tap their shoulder twice.

They didn't even move an inch. They continued to sleep peacefully, head down and body slumped over. You raise a brow, wondering why you couldn't ever get sleep like that? It was quite unfair in your opinion.

If tapping their shoulder didn't work, then maybe speaking up would do the trick? Carefully stepping in front of them, you wave a hand where their face is.

"Uh, hello?" You speak softly.

All of a sudden, they snort them self awake. It was a switch had been flipped inside their mind. You fall back from being startled, your bottom hitting the snow. You groan, looking down to see melt snow getting all into your thin pants. Snow shuffles around in front of you, some being kicked your way. You look up, seeing that this monster was fully awake now. They keep their head down, holding out a hand to you.

You sigh, reaching up and gratefully grabbing their skeletal hand. As soon as your two hands lock together, a painful shock itches up from your hand and into your arm. You yelp, yanking your hand away, pulling to your now heaving chest. They give a low chuckle, one making your blood boil.

You could now tell this was a male skeleton monster. His voice was low which made you immediately regret thinking he was a female at first. I mean, come on. He is kind of short for a guy, let's be honest.

"That hurt," you hiss, waving your now throbbing hand around.

"heh, sorry about that, kid."

You take your eyes away from your red hand, looking up to see a huge grin on his face. Yet, he wouldn't uncover his eyes, only his smile showed and it looked somewhat pained. You watch him take the buzzer out of his hand, dropping it into the snow. He holds out his skeletal hand a second time, grin growing. You purse your lips before smiling at his childishness, reaching up and grabbing his hand a second time. He pulls you up the ease, your body almost feeling like it was being levitated. When you're fully on your feet, you pat the remaining snow on your pants, huffing at how cold you felt.

You put your cold hands on your hips, tilting your head with innocence and grinning just as wide as he was.

"Well, that was a good meeting. I'm (Y/n)!"

He shoves his hand back inside his hoodie pocket, head tipping just like yours. You catch of glimpse of him wiping away some red substance off his cheek before pulling his hoodie hat back over his face. You knew it was blood, but why is he bleeding?

"i'm sans. sans the skeleton."

You breathe out, feeling much better about the situation. But even after talking with the guy, you still felt bad that you thought he was a girl at first. Your cheeks start to burn a bright red in embarrassment, lips tightening into a thin line. Sans watches you closely, giving a lopsided smirk.

"i'm supposed to be looking for humans for my brother Papyrus. he needs friends and it seems like humans are nicer than monsters these days."He says.

"Aw, I would love to be friends with Papyrus!" You cheer, clasping your hands together at your chest.

He gives a really grateful smile, attitude lighting a second before darkening again. You purse your lips, wondering if there were anymore humans down here. Were there? He did say that humans seemed so be nicer than monsters these days. So that means there must be another human down here. Maybe more?

"so what brings you down to the underground?" He speaks up, bringing you out of your daze.

You bite the inside of your cheek, clenching your fists tightly. It was bound to come up sooner or later.

"Actually, I was trying to off myself..." You mumble loud enough for him to hear.

He takes a sharp, unneeded breath. That made you feel slightly conscious. Toriel just nodded in understanding, but this guy seemed to take it really seriously.

"But I decided that instead of taking the easy way out, I'm going to help every monster than has stitches!"

"oh really?" He mumbles under his breath, the air being coming thick with tension.

He leans back against the bridge, smiling faltering for a second just like Toriel's. Now, you're not the best on picking up on bad moods, but this guy had some serious sudden bad upset vibes radiating off him.

"Sorry if I said something to offend you in any way-"

"no, you didn't offend me. i'm just thinking that i can't be helped."

Your blood runs cold, face losing all it's color. You clench your jaw so hard your teeth grind together and chip off a piece of your front tooth. You turn your head to the side and spit out the tiny piece of chipped off tooth, immediately turning your head back to him afterwards. So this guy did have stitches. Just when you thought he didn't.

He retracts his hands from his hoodie pockets and lifts them up to his hoodie hat, pulling it off with one swift swipe.

You close your eyes, knowing that it had to be super painful and you were only looking at his stitches. It all made sense now. The hoodie over his eyes, the blood, keeping his head down. You should've noticed sooner.

Over his eyes must've been the most stitches you've ever seen. Hooked onto the edges of his eye-sockets seemed to be staples to hold some of the stitches in place. Some other stitches were tied into holes he must've drilled right next to his eyes. They were small holes, but just enough to give the stitches somewhere to hold onto. One straight line of bright red blood ran down his left cheekbone and down onto his scarf, explaining the red drops next to his neck. Though, he seemed pretty chill about having those things keeping him from seeing.

And one question going through your head, how could he see in the first place? It looked impossible to see anything out of all those stitches. He notices your distressed yet curious expression, his painful smile turning into a cheeky one.

"if you're wondering how i can see, then one word. magic. i mean, all i can see is white traces; silhouettes. but other than that, everything else is pure darkness." He gives a brief explanation, calming your nerves to an extent.

You hold out a shaking hand, pointing to the blood dripping off his face. The words wouldn't form in your mind, so you point, unable to get anything out. He reaches up a hand to his face, fingertips touching the blood. When he pulls his hand away, blood stained his white fingertips. He whips his hand to the side, blood splattering into the pure white snow like some kind of horror movie.

How was he so calm about this?

"the blood? for as long as i can remember it's done that. but, honestly, i think the stitches made it worse."

You force down the bile that wanted to slide up your throat, tears wanting to come to your eyes. No matter how many times you had seen stitches already, it still made you feel awful. You fight the urge to bust out crying, giving a loving smile towards him.

"Well, I'm going to try my very best to help you. No, you know what? I am going to help you! That is a promise." You point to him dramatically, still trembling from the cold.

His head lowers shyly, light gray hues dusting over his cheeks; a blush of some sort. His grabs the back of his hoodie hat, pulling it back over his head, but not enough to where you couldn't see his whole face.

He looks up at you, his shy smile making your cheeks burn a brighter red than they already were.

"heh, thanks, (Y/n)."