hey wow i cant believe im finishing this woa.h....

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The first thing Sans notices when he wakes up the next morning is that he is cold. 

Not just physically, though the early morning breeze coming in through the open window still seeps through the blanket, but he feels like he's going to be sick. He's shaking as soon as he wakes, fingers gripping the side of his bed for support as he recalls last night's events. 

"Don't cry."

"What is family for?"

"I love you."

It's been so long since he can recall anyone dying - not just temporarily. Even when Papyrus was reduced to dust, he'd always be back in anywhere from a day or two to a week. Frisk wouldn't ever wake up again. Vaguely, he tried to recall Frisk's last words and movements - suddenly wriggling out of his grip, their voice trembling but strong as they began to fade. 

He asked what they were saying, to which they smiled softly and closed their eyes - but not before pressing a cold kiss to his forehead. 

He didn't get to hear their final words, either. If he had something akin to a stomach, he was positive he'd have heaved.

It was his fault, his fault, his fault. His eyes pricked, tears seeping silently from his eyes. He sinks more into his bed - strangely more comfortable than usual. He doesn't have his usual blankets on him. He must have passed out last night and was set to bed with spare blankets, it seems.

He must have laid like that for who knows how long, digits pulsating with silent rage and guilt, before a large boom thudded from the hallway, rattling him out of his thoughts. Papyrus was awake, then. At least... he seemed to be in good spirits. But, then again, he didn't seem to understand death - that's what he could grasp from memories of timelines passed, anyway. 

Sans rolled back over, pulling the covers over his head, mumbling.

More clatters and shouts echoed from the downstairs, Toriel spoke loudly (strange,) and he believed even Undyne's voice could be heard, mingling in with the chaos. A strange sense of deja vu filled him - perhaps Toriel had returned to her old routine to cope? Papyrus wouldn't act like he was down for long - he'd take it upon himself to be a beacon of positivity in times like this.

"Where's Sans? Is he still sleeping?" Undyne(? It was hard to hear through the door,) yelled. No - yelled. Was she seriously trying to wake him up? What was she going to do, make him run ten laps? That would surely put him in a better mood - not. 

"Probably! Going to the surface would hardly change his habits, despite my wishes." Papyrus also yelled - on purpose, Sans noted. They were trying to rouse him - they knew he was awake now, but just wanted to beckon him out of bed.

 A flicker of irritation swelled in Sans' skull as he pulled the blankets down more, fingers pressed to where his ears would be in an attempt to block out the noise. Good luck with that, he thought bitterly.

For a while, the sounds continued - Toriel speaking softer, now; smells of coffee wafting up from downstairs, a bitter smell of ketchup for breakfast - likely to cheer him up, he assumed.

"I don't want to be late. It's summer on the surface! It's supposed to be blistering hot and miserable outside, and I don't want to miss that!" Papyrus' voice echoed throughout the walls - leaving Sans suddenly shocked.

'It's summer on the surface,' he had said.
It's summer.

In a second the blankets were off him, his feet hitting the floor and not even caring - it was summer, it was summer - he stopped himself before he reached the bedroom door, though. If he went down crying bloody murder, especially if his guess was wrong, he'd likely be dubbed mid-breakdown. Even if he was right about the summertime, he wouldn't want to alarm the family.

His family. 
The one he'd taken for granted, never comprehending that even though he'd left the underground, they still could disappear on the surface. 

Settling a smile on his face - faking his exhaustion for once, the adrenaline running through his bones wouldn't let him sleep in a million years - he opened the door and set down the stairs.

There, sitting at the table, licking their lips in apprehension for breakfast, was Frisk. 

"H-Hey," Sans said, voice dry. They looked healthy - their cheeks were not sunken in, but plump and flushed, their eyes their usual auburn golden sheen. 

Their final words, their final actions - their fingers reaching out desperately for something Sans could not see, no matter how much he tried-

A load to their last SAVE point - the morning after the return from the surface. 

Frisk smiles, and says a simple "g'd mornin'" - their voice is cracked from disuse and it sounds a bit like babble - but he can decipher it's meaning. It hits him again - Frisk didn't speak on the first day, last time. They were still aware. They know. The expression of surprise on his face must have shown even slightly, for Frisk only beamed wider, patting the open chair next to them. 

"I s'ved it f'r you." They try again, voice lower.

Undyne explodes, voice contrasting thickly to the fragile voice of the child - "So you CAN talk!" Frisk shrugs - kind of, i guess? - basking slightly in the attention that they received for speaking. Toriel is glowing with pride, Asgore and Alphys look more shocked than anything - Papyrus and Undyne are ecstatic - and Sans is just staring. 

"I heard you, you know. You don't have to shout," Sans supplies, voice wavering only slightly. The room erupts in a mix of polite laughter and groans of irritation, but Frisk just laughs and suggests him over again. They give him a small smile - I've been waiting for you - as he slides into his seat. Wordlessly, he rubs the kid's head, their brown locks mussed on their forehead, but they grin, all the same, and reach up fingers to rub the top of his skull. 

Later, when they're talking at breakfast about what to do to celebrate their first day on the surface! (Sans smiles, a little morosely,) he feels Frisk silently wrap their arm around him - it's not easy, the child's frail arms don't wrap fully around the skeleton's wide anatomy, but he doesn't miss the small squeeze the child gives him. Quietly, but surely clearly only to Sans - Frisk mumbles again.

"Thank you."

He squeezes back.

"C'mon, kid, it was no problem." Frisk gives him a skeptical glance, thin eyebrows raising silently. He smiles, continuing. "What's family for?

Frisk smacks him over the side of the head. 

Papyrus applauds, though he's not sure why - Undyne is giving Frisk fighting tips - Toriel is giving Frisk a small frown, her motherly instincts wanting to keep Frisk from any more roughhousing for at least another 150 years. Alphys voice comes through with a clear squawk of laughter at Sans' surprised expression - Asgore sips his tea quietly, hiding his amused smile behind his cup. Toriel's glare hits him next - and he practically jumps away, feigning sudden interest in the wallpaper.

The kitchen is loud, filled with yelling and clattering and sights and smells of the surface, of a family a bit bent but too strong to ever break never for long - and their world spins on.

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wow thank you all for reading!!! this story is finally done, after i started writing in december of... 2015, i think! its been two years. wow. undertale is still here, it's still part of an amazing community - and though it's true some glory has passed, the fact that nearly 40,000 people gathered to read this story i wrote on impulse one day brings warmth to my heart. thank you for all the stars and bookmarks and comments, you're what kept me going! i finished this for you. this wasnt at all how i thought it would turn out, and im so happy it did regardless. 

if you actually like my writing that much, my archiveofourown (which i've switched to as of late,) is FallenFrisk as well! my personal tumblr is d0itsu. 

thank you all - and may nothing ever stop your world from turning. 

- FallenFrisk