Well hello there! Crazy, another Undertale fic? Yeah... well, this fandom's grabbed me by my horns and has dragged me down into the rabbit holes. XD

That said, I've fallen in love with Bad Sanses as family (with Dadmare!). I've taken to calling the Bad Sanses 'Shadows' in contrast with the 'Stars' on Dream's side of things. Not really important for this fic, but it'll be mentioned in others (and BOY are there OTHERS).

Dust is my favorite, and this is actually my first time writing in Killer's POV, so I hope I did him justice!

Big shoutout to Wanderlust on my Discord for encouraging this oneshot into existence via a single comment. XD 3k words and 3 hours later, and here's the fic.

Would you believe me if I said that I've only been in the AU side of this fandom for a couple weeks or so? Haha... Yeah, expect MANY more fics from me in the future. Dust is my favorite, but I'm also a fan of Nightmare, Ink and Blue.

For those of you who may be new to my works, I usually DO NOT write romance. And certainly I do not have any plans to pair up any of the Sanses. If you ship it, by all means, I won't judge (I don't have the glowey eye for that anyways), but please do not expect any pairings in my stories. I write platonic and familial relationships. :) So expect a lot of that from me.

And angst. But I usually have comfort after any pain, even if we take a hot minute to reach that point.

Well, I think I've rambled long enough. Here's the story, I hope you enjoy!

Oh! One last thing. I've got this lil headcanon that Dust has nicknames for people he truly cares about. Many of them are based off Korean, since his source material is from there. Below are some of the nicknames he uses in this fic, and their translations (if you're curious!)

Dust's Nicknames:

Killer—Kal (means 'knife'. Real creative there, Dusty)
Horror—Bohoja (means 'guardian, protector or shield')

~~~

When asked later, Killer would say he was just as confused as Dust and Nightmare on how things had gotten so out of hand. In truth, it had started with a single, idle comment from Dust.

"What?" Killer's hands shook a little as he stopped whatever he was doing to look at the hooded skeleton, certain he'd misheard him somehow.

"You heard me." Dust rolled his eyesockets like he hadn't just spouted one of the most concerning statements Killer had ever heard him make. He muttered something under his breath and Killer's SOUL visibly fluttered when he leaned in a little closer to hear him better. "...do it myself this time. Make sure it's done right." Dust's eyelights focused on Killer for a moment, giving him a strange look. "Whatever, have your dissociative fit somewhere else. I've got some stuff to do."

Before Killer could stop him, he was gone. He stared for a long moment as he settled into full-on PANIC MODE. "HORROR!" He Shortcutted to the Kitchen, eyesockets wide. The aforementioned skeleton was deep in dinner prep, but this was not the time for such things. He grabbed him by the arm, startling Horror badly enough that Killer had to duck under the practiced swing of a cleaver.

"Killer?! What the hell?! I almost chopped your head off!" Horror glared as he set the knife down. "Why are you...?"

"I don't know what to do!" Killer released his hold in favor of pacing the kitchen frantically, hands balling into fists before relaxing and restarting the process. "It's just he said that and I–I–I froze. Rory, I haven't frozen like that in years! YEARS! But I just... I really didn't know how to respond, and all I could say was 'what' like some fucking idiot an—"

Killer was cut off by Horror shoving some kind of chunk of cheese into his mouth, effectively startling him out of his spiral. "Calm. Down. What are you talking about?"

"It's Dust. He... he was talking so casually about it and... I think he's..." Killer's SOUL fluctuated painfully. "He was talking about dusting himself, Rory."

Horror went very still, and his eye shrunk to something half its usual size. "Tell me exactly what he said."

"He... He said that it 'was about time he dusted' and that it was 'probably better to do it himself' so it was 'done right'." Saying the words aloud only made it feel more real. If he had hair, he'd be pulling it out right about now, but he instead settled for doubling down on his pacing, grinding his teeth audibly. "Oh shit... He shortcutted away, I... I don't know where he is, what if he's already gone, Rory?! What if that was my last damn conversation with him?!"

Horror untied his apron and turned off the stove, setting a lid on whatever he'd been making. "Dinner can wait. Let's find Dust."

The first place they looked was Dust's bedroom. The door was cracked, which meant they were welcome to come in, but he wasn't there. Dust was a surprisingly orderly person. Killer had been surprised, when Dust first joined up, that the guy's room was always clean and tidy. It was a very Papyrus trait that he'd never really managed to understand, but it was a very Dust thing to keep his room clean. He'd give Killer the stink-eye whenever he tossed something on the ground and left it there.

So seeing his room in such a state if disarray was jarring. Everything had been shoved out of place. The wardrobe was toppled over on its side, the mattress was shoved off the frame of the bed, even the rug was partially rolled up and out of place. The cabinet doors of the vanity were ajar and drawers were pulled out and strewn about the room.

Dust was never this messy. Never this... this... disorganized. What the hell? What was going on? Had things gotten so bad that Dust hadn't even bothered cleaning his room anymore?! Had nobody noticed this kind of spiral?

"D-Dusty?" He hesitantly stepped into the room, careful to avoid stepping on anything. He shared a half-terrified look with Horror, who also understood that this scene was as far from their brother's usual self as could be. "Dust!" He called out again.

...

But nobody came.

Panic swirled in his heart-shaped SOUL as the silence pressed in upon the two of them. "Dust is smart." Horror's voice cut through the quiet. "If he's really... If he thought we were going to stop him, and he was really settled on this, he'd do it in a place we wouldn't find him easily."

Killer let out a soft whine at the thought. "But... that would mean he's been thinking about this for a long time." That hurt. "Y-you're right though. Dust's smart. He's a strategist—he's got plans for his plans. There's no way he'd... If he was serious about this, it wouldn't be here." But where the hell would he do it?

"Away." Horror realized at once. "Dust strikes me as someone who wouldn't want us to find him."

Killer nodded. Dust hated burdening the people he cared about with important things. Throwing them under the bus or dumping his chores on Killer? Absolutely. But if Dust thought for even a moment that whatever it was would hurt or burden the other, he'd shoulder that himself, no matter how heavy the load.

And he had to know that finding his dust would hurt them. Killer ground his teeth hard enough that he swore he felt something crack. "But where would he go?"

"Let's split up." Horror suggested. "I'll check the gardens, you start with the attic. He can't have left the property, Nightmare would've sensed that."

"Nightmare's out right now." Killer took a deep breath to try to calm his anxiety. Horror was tugging at his dead eyesocket, but for once Killer didn't reprimand him. He was nearly at that point himself. "Of all the times for him to be out." And without a cell signal. He distantly wondered if he panicked hard enough if Nightmare would feel it across the multiverse and come home.

He hoped so. Nightmare would know what to do. He'd find Dust in time. Killer wasn't so sure they could.

"C'mon." Horror nudged his shoulder. "Attic. If you find him, shoot me a text. I'll do the same for you. I'll start with the basement after checking the garden and we'll meet in the middle."

The search was agonizing. Twice he thought he'd seen the tail end of Dust's scarf, but one turned out to be an old sweater in an abandoned room and the other turned up nothing but a ransacked storage closet with cleaning supplies.

After two hours, the two met back up by the kitchen, each with dread-filled gazes and heavy SOULs. "Nothing." Horror's voice was a soft whisper, and Killer nodded along.

Two hours. Dust was probably...

A loud BANG sounded from the floor above them—the bedrooms. Killer jumped half a foot an Shortcutted to the hallway, barely taking the time to Shortcut Horror alongside him. Dust's door was closed—they'd left it ajar earlier.

He was in there.

"Dust?!" Killer pounded on the door, but all he could hear were soft curses and something being thrown about. "DUST! Answer me, damnit!"

Again, there was no reply. He tried the doorhandle, but it was locked. A locked door meant 'do not bother me', but the house rule was that if one had a suspicion that someone was in danger—whether that danger was from themselves or not—then one could invite themselves inside.

"Move." Horror pulled out his axe and Killer stepped aside at once. It only took three swings for him to bring the door down, aiming for the hinges. The door came down with a mighty CRASH, and Killer's SOUL pounded when he heard the telltale sound of a body hitting the floor.

He ran into the room, eyesockets impossibly wide and bones vibrating with LV and adrenaline in a way he hadn't experienced since he left his AU.

A thousand possibilities flew through his mind—Dust, laying there in a puddle of crimson. Maybe he was unconscious, or maybe he was already dusting. Maybe they'd made it just in time to stop him from making a mistake.

What he saw was none of those things. Killer paused to assess the situation because Dust looked just as confused as he did.

The hooded skeleton was sitting on the floor where he'd fallen, tangled hopelessly in some kind of crocheted blanket with large holes that his feet had gotten caught in. He was wearing a black face mask and had on a ridiculous pink apron that he was pretty sure wasn't Horror's. In one hand was a featherduster, and the other held a spray bottle and a bright orange microfiber cloth. A pair of headphones had fallen from his skull and hung precariously around his neck, dangling by one earcuff.

Horror and Killer blinked at Dust, who blinked back at them before his eyes drifted to the door with irritation. "My door... what the fuck?"

"D-Dust?" Killer's hands trembled as he reached out for his brother, and the look on Dust's face changed at once.

"Killer? Kal? What's wrong?" His tone was gentle and worried, and why did it sound like Dust was the one trying to comfort Killer?

"Y-you..." Killer didn't know what the fuck he was feeling right then, but he knew that the relief was so strong it hurt. In that moment, he didn't even try to fight anything. He wrapped Dust in a tight hug, burying his tearstreaked face in his brother's shoulder and sobbing. He thought he heard Horror wrap Dust in a hug from behind the hooded skeleton, but he didn't think he could pull away enough to check.

Dust was safe. He was here and safe and his brother was alive and that was more than he'd dared to hope for ten minutes ago. To his credit, Dust—who was always somewhat touch-adverse—allowed them to cling to him. Killer's sobs shook all three of them, but he wasn't sure if he was feeling grief, relief, concern, or some hellish mixture of all three or more.

"Dare I ask what's going on in here?" Nightmare's voice finally broke the scene. He had six bags on his tentacles and a look of deep concern. "Because whatever this is... I could feel it from the gates."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Dust shrugged from where he was sandwiched between them.

Nightmare sighed heavily, pinching the space between his eyelights. "All three of you, come to the living room. Let's try to figure this out."

Killer resolutely refused to lose his physical contact with his brother, and though he had to let go so Dust could stand, he kept ahold of the tail of his scarf so he wouldn't disappear on him again.

Horror didn't seem to have any reservations, however, as he scooped Dust up into his arms and insisted on carrying him. The hooded skeleton let out a yelp as he was hoisted into their brother's arms, but he seemed to understand that Horror needed this, because he didn't protest.

The four traveled in silence until Horror settled on the couch with Dust, the latter staring at the abandoned half-made dinner in the other room as they passed. Nightmare also frowned at the incompleted meal.

"Killer, Horror." Nightmare called their attention to him. "Let's start with this—why did you break down Dust's bedroom door?"

"I... I thought." Killer's breath hitched as the pain of nearly losing his brother hit him again. "House rule. I thought Dust was in danger."

Dust looked rather alarmed at that, for some reason. "What?"

"We both did. We've been looking for you for two hours, Dust." Horror tightened his hold. "We thought you were going to... to hurt yourself."

"H-hold on, what?" Dust's eyelights darted between them.

"E-earlier you were talking... you said that it was... that you should've dusted by now and that it was better if you did it yourself, and I..." He blinked back tears that flowed down his cheekbones anyways. "Then I couldn't find you, and neither could Horror, and your room was a mess—it's never a mess, and please, please if you're hurting or I'm doing something that bothers you or anything, just tell me."

Killer felt his panic and grief and whatever tangled ball of emotions that swirled around him slowly bleed out from him. He blinked down when he saw one of Nightmare's tentacles wrapped around his wrist. He must've been siphoning off the excess negative emotions so he wasn't working himself into another panic.

Dust's eyesockets were wide, even as Nightmare sent him a distinctly worried look. "Dust? Care to explain?"

"I meant cleaning!" He quickly defended himself, and Killer felt like someone had suddenly switched languages on him.

"What?"

"Dusting as in cleaning off dust. I've been meaning to deep-clean my room for weeks. Magic can only do so much, sometimes you need to do it yourself to actually get all the nooks and crannies in the furniture and stuff."

Killer stared at him in disbelief. "But... we couldn't find you! We searched for hours!"

"I had to look for some supplies in different places of the mansion." Dust answered sheepishly. "I shortcutted because I was too lazy to take the stairs... maybe we missed each other?"

"So... you're saying." Killer took a deep breath. "That this entire thing was a misunderstanding?"

"That is what it looks like." Nightmare nodded, and Killer fought the urge to laugh. He felt like an idiot—of course Dust was talking about cleaning, and...

"Thank you." Dust's words had him pausing in his thoughts to stare at him in confusion.

"What?"

"You... both of you. You were worried." Was that his imagination, or was Dust smiling? Not that battle grin or the teasing thing he did when he pulled pranks. This was a genuine gentle smile—he wasn't sure he'd ever seen Dust give this smile before. "You were worried about me... I... It's been a very long time since I've felt..."

He didn't need to finish that sentence, because Killer understood the moment he looked into his eyelights. Wanted. Appreciated. Cared for. Loved.

"Now who's the idiot?" Killer gently rested his fist on Dust's shoulder. "You're my brother. Of course I'd be worried. Dumbass."

"Our brother." Horror corrected.

Nightmare's gaze flickered between them all for a long moment. "You three seem to have had a long day. Horror, I'll finish up dinner on your behalf. You three take this time to talk things out. Try your best to keep that cloying sweet positivity to the living room please." He pulled a face.

"Can you even cook?" Horror gave him a look.

"I can follow whatever recipe you've got in that cookbook you wrote." Nightmare assured him, and Horror relaxed. "I don't want to feel any more spikes of panic from you three for the rest of the night, so please. No more misunderstandings tonight."

Dust and Killer snorted in unison. "We'll do our best." Horror answered as the deity vanished into the kitchen to work on whatever Horror had abandoned. Hopefully it was still safe to eat, after all this time.

"So... you're really okay?" Killer couldn't help but question Dust one last time.

"Well... as okay as ever, I suppose." Dust shrugged, giving up whatever pretense he had about trying to escape Horror's hug and leaning back into the taller skeleton. "But if the next words out of your mouth involve 'Disney marathon' or any variation thereof, I will shut myself in my room for two days and only let Horror and Nightmare bother me, I swear."

Killer placed a hand over his SOUL with a dramatic gasp. "You would keep me out?!" He then leaned forward with a wicked grin. "With what door?"

"I'll steal yours."

"With what axe?"

"Don't need one, I'll just steal it from your hinges."

"Your hinges are scrap metal, that's what Rory targeted."

"Then I'll steal your whole doorframe while I'm at it."

"Wha– you can't do that, though?"

"Oh, you'll find there are many things I can do with enough... Determination." Dust grinned, eyelights glowing brighter for a moment before Horror snorted.

"You would tell us though, right? If you were struggling like that?" Horror's baritone voice dipped into a worried cadence.

Dust hummed for a moment, eyesockets closing in thought. "Yeah. I think I really would." If there was one thing Killer retained from his old self, it was his ability to read people he knew. And he knew Dust pretty damned well. He didn't always use this ability—didn't have the attention span for it anymore—but right now? Yeah, he could tell that Dust was giving them a truly honest answer.

"Good." He threw himself on the couch beside the two, sprawling himself out over Dust's lap to turn him into a skelewich. "Now let's get to that marathon!"

"KAL!" Dust groaned before looking up at Horror. "Bohoja, help me, Killer's gonna torture us with Disney again!"

"Disney is FINE!"

"DAD! KILLER'S PUTTING DISNEY ON AGAIN!"

"Don't tattle!" Killer stared at him, aghast.

"Dust, your brother was worried for you. Let him put on a little something to settle everyone's emotions." Nightmare called out from the kitchen. "But Killer, if you play more than two movies, you're going to sit through another nature documentary with me."

"NoooOOOO! Dad, that's not fair!"

"If you're going to call me dad, then I'll act like one." Nightmare waved a tentacle idly, as if to wave away his argument entirely. "So either put your movie on and stop complaining or I'll let Horror choose the movie so you both lose."

Killer scowled. Horror had a penchant for cooking shows and—strangely enough—revenge movies. Which... okay, revenge movies were cool and all, but Killer himself preferred action-packed movies or Disney—because there was something about Disney that just made that child part of his SOUL happy. Even if Chara was gone. Perhaps because Chara was gone. She would've hated Disney movies. That thought made him love them all the more.

Dust, on the other hand, was a murder mystery type of guy. Or a psychological thriller. Sometimes he'd just watch science documentaries, it was honestly hard to tell with him sometimes.

"Pick the movie." Dust groaned.

"Fine, fine. Howsabout..." He held up his choice and grinned.

"Can I refund you as my brother?" Dust deadpanned.

"I think we have the receipt somewhere." Horror nodded.

"Meanies!" Killer laughed as the other two chuckled alongside him. He didn't know how he'd lucked into a family after everything he'd done, but he'd be dust on the wind before he let this be taken away from him.