The week had been a blur.

Everyone was very apologetic towards Sans, but it felt unbearable. He couldn't handle the sorrowful looks they gave him, it just made him feel more hurt. Like he was just dragging them down, making them waste their time on him. Why did they keep looking at him like that? He didn't like it. They never looked at him like this before.

Sleep was hard. Bags were starting to form under his eye sockets, his movements were more sluggish than ever. Papyrus had walked into the room to find Sans, collapsed in the middle of the floor, curling up onto himself in his misery.

Despite all of that, the short skeleton had asked to go home. He liked the idea of just being alone, it sounded nice. Each time Papyrus gave him that pitiful look, it just made him hurt. Why couldn't Papyrus just act like he normally did? Go on a rant about him and Undyne's new dish Toriel would likely be forced to destroy? Tell Sans all about how he was sure to hook up with Mettaton, and how since he was such a cool dude, he was willing to bring Sans along to meet him once they were dating. 

"I know about a good therapist," Toriel had told Sans, "I think it'd be good if you got some of this out. Please promise that you'll at least go for an appointment before I let you go home."

"... Fine," Sans said, grasping the piece of paper with the information on it before they set off for his own home.

Returning home felt nice.

He liked how empty it was, how there was no one there to look at him. He liked not being seen. The skeleton shuffled through the door, tossing the paper aside onto the counter. The house was nice and silent. It was nice.

His house was moderately sized, with a decent living room and kitchen. Before, Sans had liked how close the forest was to his house, but now -

A blanket was held up to the glass sliding door, a piece of wood firmly placed in the area next to it so the door couldn't be opened. Sans took a step back and looked, his soul calming when he saw that it was completely covered.

"Heh..." Sans mumbled.

He moved to the side before he sat down on his couch, the coldness shifting under his weight. It was comfortable, welcoming, Sans sinking into the cushions with a sigh. The T.V was switched on before Sans flinched at the sudden noise, hand frantically feeling for the remote. He didn't like the sounds.

Everything felt so different. The house felt different. The windows made him flinch away when he would catch sight of the trees, breathing quickening.

Trees covered in blood, leaves stopping him from moving -

Sans scurried away from the window, frantic hands grasping every blanket he could from around his house. His breathing quickened while his adrenaline rose, hands shaking as he started to block out the windows.

It's fine, Sans is fine, the man can't see him.

But his body wouldn't listen. The image that he had just managed to stop thinking about was there again, flashing through his mind. Sans himself knew he was safe, that there wasn't anyone else home, but his body didn't care. It felt like Sans was back at the scene all over again, that he was in trouble. That the man was somehow outside, looking in through the windows with the same body as before.

Once the deed was done, Sans stood in the middle of his kitchen, breathing heavily. All of the windows were covered, leaving nothing but darker rooms and a single lone skeleton who was starting to go a little crazy. 

That wasn't the only thing that happened to Sans. When raiding his fridge for the first time that night, Sans found ketchup bottles, and once again he was thrown into the memory before he found himself shoving the red bottles into the trash can as far as they could go.

It was a terrible cycle. Sans would do something, be reminded of the event, and go downhill. It happened several times that day, the fourth being the nightmares that plagued him that night that forced him awake.

Thus, Sans had found himself lying in bed alone, the day having been a blur of anxiety and paranoia. Was this just going to be his life now? Just this? Constantly jumping out of his skin at every passing moment?

Hehe, get it? Skin? Skeletons didn't have skin!

He couldn't find it in him to even smile at the pun.

~~~~~~

The house finally felt more safe.

With all of the windows covered, Sans couldn't be watched! It felt nice to be able to walk from room to room, no ketchup in his fridge to remind him of that day. He started carrying around a blanket with him, shuffling from room to room with it draped over his shoulders.

Why wasn't Sans fine? He had a blanket, all of the windows were covered, but he couldn't stop thinking about it!

Sans had to just ignore his body. He was starting to think he had some sort of sense of PTSD like Undyne had said - probably something like that. It was hard to eat, he never had an appetite. The last time he had even went into his fridge had been once before, and then he hadn't eaten anything.

But hey, he was getting better! The only time he thought of the incident was when he was reminded of it, so as long as Sans stayed away from that, he would be fine. So he would just sit inside, all day, on his couch, with the blanket snuggled up and the windows covered. He'd be fine!

Oh, who was he kidding? Sans had to be honest with himself when he discovered he was hesitant to google why he coughed up blood once. This was going too bad, even for his usual depression. Sure, sometimes he had the sense of worthlessness and futility in the past, but this was more severe. All Sans could do was think or nap, which never helped because when he tried to fall asleep, he was having nightmares. The same little girl, the same man. Over and over again. Always in the forest, always bloody. So, if he never saw the forest or any red liquid, he was fine! He could be fine!

The thoughts ran rampant in Sans' head as he sat on the couch, blanket wrapped tightly around him. That's all he had done, for the past three days, was just sit. Sit in his bed, sit on the floor as he broke down, sit on the couch. He didn't eat, he couldn't eat. The thought of ketchup was repulsive at this point. He couldn't nap, couldn't eat, couldn't even watch T.V. Sans tried to schedule an appointment with the therapist, but ended up hanging up when the person picked up, hands trembling.

Sans knew he was falling downhill, but he didn't know how to stop the fall. All he could do was watch himself sink, seemingly unable to take action.

Then came the visit.

"Have you seen the therapist?"

"I called but... I dunno, Paps, I didn't really want to talk to anyone..."

His brother looked down at him with that same look as always, sending Sans' gaze to the side. The skeleton himself wasn't even sure why he was having so much trouble talking to people now, but he was. Before, Sans was able to talk to people with a constant grin, and he was good at it. Now, it was just hard to talk to people. It was the faces, probably. And it felt weird that his friends were giving him so much attention. It was unusual.

He hated it, so much. The way everyone looked at him. The way they treated him. Sans knew what he saw, he knew what he did, but they acted like he didn't. Sans didn't want pity, he didn't want them to keep saying it was okay. He just wanted them to listen, to not give him those stupid looks.

Being alone sounded nice.

"You've been inside of the house for a couple of days now, have you even left?" Papyrus asked him.

"... No..."

The lack of puns was obvious. So was the blanket gripped around his shoulders, and the bags under his eye sockets. His stance was awkward, too, wavering with exhaustion. Both skeletons shared the knowledge that Sans wasn't doing okay, but in turn, both shared the confusion and lack of foresight to help him.

"Do you want to go anywhere?" Papyrus asked, "The Great Papyrus could take you out for dinner! Not Grillby's, I'd rather get something healthier in you. Without the Great Papyrus visiting, you've probably been eating nothing but ketchup. I..." Seeing Sans' lack of joking, he sighed. "How about I make you something?"

"'M not in the mood to eat," Sans mumbled.

There was a pause before Papyrus had continued.

"Well, at least come with me to the pound," Papyrus said, "I managed to catch the annoying dog, and I was going to drive him to the pound so he wouldn't keep stealing my special attacks. You could hold the cage to make sure he doesn't get out."

There was no argument with Papyrus, the taller grabbing his wrist and practically dragging Sans out of the house. Sans kept his gaze down at the sidewalk as he walked, free hand clutching the blanket closer to his chest. Why he had the blanket was unknown, all he knew was it made him feel better.

"The pound is kind of far away, but that'll give us time to talk!" Papyrus said, "And it's about time someone forced you out of the house! So you can exercise a bit, I heard that helps with depression!"

"Don't really wanna talk," Sans commented, looking down at his lap.

Don't look out the window.

~~~~~~

The ride was long and quiet from the older brothers side, Sans blankly staring down at his lap. Papyrus decided to just talk about him own life, hinting here and there things that could help Sans. Sometimes told him directly. Papyrus was trying his best to help Sans, and yet here Sans was, barely able to even talk. This conversation wouldn't be one-sided if he could just muster up courage to say something. Papyrus was trying! Sans was pathetic.

"It's supposed to help, talking to people about it," Papyrus had told Sans, "But I won't push you, I know it's hard."

The words were lost to Sans, the short skeleton shaking his head as he looked at the car handle. He didn't want to hear that, but then again, he didn't know what he wanted to hear. Sans had no idea what he needed, all he knew was that he just wanted to feel safe again.

The pound was a small building in another town over, the windows were worn and cigarette butts littered the sidewalks. Birds chirped in the distance, taunting Sans to look up at the forest. Yet he refused, turning his skull while he focused on the ground. The forest wasn't safe, he didn't want to look at it.

"Hopefully someone will adopt him," Papyrus had commented, holding onto the cage firmly as the dog rustled inside. "If no one does, the Great Papyrus will come back and retrieve him. But he's been annoying lately, so hopefully someone will try to take him before I have to."

"Guess that's good," Sans said.

When they opened the doors, they found the room surprisingly nice. Sans finally looked up at this point, glancing around the room as he collected in his new surroundings. Warm yellow walls welcomed him, posters of dogs scattered amongst the surface. A person behind the desk greeted them, stepping out to walk towards them.

"I'm guessing you have a drop off?" She asked, glancing down at the caged dog in Papyrus' hand.

"Indeed!" Papyrus said, holding up the box. "He's rather annoying, he tends to steal my attacks and invade my life. Hopefully someone will adopt him while he's here so I don't have to come back."

"Oh, that's good that you'll come back if he doesn't get adopted," The woman said, "But he's one of the cuter dogs, he'll probably get adopted. A lot of dogs actually leave here pretty quickly, we only have one dog right now."

"Oh, that's good! I was worried that I may be sending him to his death!" Papyrus sighed.

Sans stayed silent, shifting his weight. That seat over there looked really comfy, but he knew he wouldn't fall asleep. Either way, he felt exhausted.

"Here, follow me, we can put him in the back with the other dog," The woman said, walking back and opening the door for them.

They followed, the blanket shuffling against the floor every step as they progressed further into the building. What she said must have been right, as he didn't hear any barking. All of the cages they passed were empty.

"After monsters came to the surface, a lot of them ended up adopting our dogs, which helped take a lot of them out from being put down," The woman explained, "The only dog we have left isn't so lucky, though. If he doesn't get adopted by tomorrow, we'll have to put him down."

"That's sad," Papyrus said, "Have you tried putting up fliers?"

"The problem isn't that people don't know about him, it's that he tends to... well, he scares everyone. The dog isn't exactly 'cute', so most customers take one look at him and leave. I was about to ask if you guys would like the dog, but you're getting rid of one, so I'm guessing that's a no."

"Unfortunately, it is a no. I'd love to take him in, but the Great Papyrus had enough dogs to deal with. It's upsetting that no one would adopt him just because of his looks."

"People like cuter pets. The dog seemed like a stray when we found him, so I'm guessing the owner might have ditched the poor boy on the streets. He was even hurt, it might have been animal abuse from his owner."

They approached the end cages, the woman pulling out her set of keys as she gestured to another cage. "He's in there, if you guys know someone who might take him off of our hands. Tomorrow night is the deadline, unfortunately."

While Papyrus and the woman started to move Annoying Dog into the cage, Sans took his gaze over to the other cage.

The cage was mostly bare, with the bars separating Sans and the interior. It was moderately sized, with a few dog beds throw inside with a bowl of dog food and a bowl of water.

There was the dog.

He was practically pushed against the bars, wide eyes staring back at Sans with interest. It was an average sized dog, the breed appearing to be some type of husky. However, instead of the normal coat colors, the dogs fur was red and black. What really set him aside from other dogs was the eyes and smile, both too peeled back on his face to be considered normal. The mouth stretched far across his face, sharp teeth smiling at him.

Yeah, a very unusual dog.

The dog had blue eyes.

Innocent blue eyes had looked at him one last time until -

Olivia had died, and Sans could have saved her.

This dog was going to die...

"I'll take him!"

The words were blurted from his mouth before Sans realized he was even saying it. His voice sounded a little hoarse, and his bones felt on the verge of shaking. No, no. Sans was fine, he was fine. This was fine.

"What?" Both the woman and Papyrus asked, looking over.

"Uh, yeah," Sans said, adjusting the blanket as he looked over at them nervously. "I'll take him."

"You will?" The woman asked, "Really?"

"Sure," Sans said awkwardly, "Paps had problems with dogs but uh... I haven't."

"That... that's fantastic!" The woman said, clapping her hands together. "I mean, we haven't had any problems with biting or anything, he just tends to scare people! But if you can get past the looks, I think you guys can get along great! Let's go settle the paperwork!"

"Are you sure you want a dog of all things?" Papyrus asked, "Why not a cat? Or..." He paused, glancing at the woman before nodding. "I'll trust you on this, Sans, as long as you take care of it. I wouldn't want it to die either."

The dog seemed confused, his smile having dropped as he watched Sans with interest. Sans shrugged at him. Why was he adopting this dog? Sans didn't even know, but he felt like he had to. His hands were shaking a little, and the intense blue eyes of his memory lingered in his mind. He felt a little sick.

"Know what, Sans, I'll go do the paperwork for you," Papyrus said, waving his brother off.

Papyrus was probably excited. After all, Sans had been cooped up inside of his house for three days, his brother probably thought any animal would help Sans. Not annoying dog, though. The taller skeleton hated that dog, so he probably would let it loose into the woods before he would let Sans adopt him. Either way, this dog might die, so Sans would rather choose him.

"Do you have any names for him?" The woman asked.

"Um... No, not really," Sans said, "Did he come with any names?"

"Well, he came with a tag that said 'Smile Dog', but -"

"That's his name."

"That's - okay, yeah, that can be his name."

If his name was already Smile Dog, why change it? The guy already had a name, Sans wouldn't pick out a new one just because he wanted to have a different one. And he wasn't very good at picking names anyway.

The woman went to a nearby bucket before she was pulling out a leash and collar, holding them out for Sans to take. Without releasing his hold of his blanket, Sans managed to shift so he could take them from her with his other hand.

"You can get him setup while he signs your papers," The woman said, handing Sans a key as well. 

"Alright."

When they had left, Sans turned towards Smile Dog. The dog was glancing at the leash and collar uncertainty, his gaze flickering back to Sans'.

"Uh... you don't wanna wear this, do you?" Sans asked him.

The dog seemed startled that Sans was able to observe him, looking back at him with a frown.

"I'm just getting you outta here so they don't kill ya, don't... sorry, I-I can't let you die," Sans said, "Not with those... not... please?"

With the key in hand, he carefully opened the cage, breathing shallow. Smile Dog took a step back, revealing a slight limp in his back leg. He had been hurt.

Sans crouched down in front of him, holding out the collar carefully.

And the dog responded.

Smile Dog limped forward cautiously after a moment of hesitation before he lightly nudged at the collar. The skeleton flinched at the movement before he opened his hands more, letting the dog shift his head through the collar.

He accepted him.