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annaraebananawriter · 3 years

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(Part Three) I Want to Forget

FINALLY!

WHO’S BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE???

I know I have. I’m sincerely sorry for the wait. Motivation was a damn bitch and came throughout the almost full year it’s been since I posted Part One and Part Two (which you might want to read, if you can’t remember or haven’t yet) sporadically.

But I finally finished it. Now, there’s only one more part left and then a little bonus part from Nightmare’s POV. The bonus part is when Jake gets some well deserved Karma from the King of Fear himself! So stay tuned for that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically UTMV

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Killer (Who belongs to Rahafwabas), Dust (Who belongs to ???, I don’t know), Error (Who belongs to CQ), Horror (Who belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios) and, finally, mentioned Ink (Who belongs to Comyet) and Blue (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce)

Warnings: Implied Rape (although, it’s toned down more, so it’s more like flashbacks), Implied Self-Harm (but just a tiny bit, barely there) Panic attacks (close enough to, at least), Implied Anxiety and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 5254

~oOo~

"Heya," the human said, "you're Dream, right?"

"A-ah, yes! That's me!"

stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

"Hey, do you want me to get you a refill too?"

"Oh, uh...it's fine. I was just having water, anyways."

"I'll get you some more water?"

"...alright."

Dream forced himself to breathe.

He closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts and snippets of memories down and away. Looking back on them and berating himself for not realizing, not noticing, would only do him more harm than good, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. If he had just...if he had been smarter...if he had...

There were so many 'if' this and 'if' that, it made his head spin.

They clouded his mind, becoming more jumbled as more and more came.

…

"Dream?"

Horror's voice made him start. He blinked his eyes open again and stared at the sink, which had been turned off now and was just dripping. Another call of his name gave him the incentive to tear his attention away and meet the other's concerned eyes.

Drip, drop

Nightmare hadn't told his boys much, as per the wishes of Dream. He didn't want anybody to know how weak he had been, how blindsided he had been, how...anything that happened, really, he wanted to keep as limited as possible. It was bad enough with Nightmare knowing, even if his brother still didn't know all the details. The ones that Nightmare did know made him worry, worry about Dream and Dream hated being worried about.

He was supposed to worry about others. Not the other way around.

However, he was glad that Nightmare respected his wishes. Horror and the others—as they had, naturally, been curious as to why Dream, their supposed enemy, was staying with them, the brothers did kind of owe it to them to tell them something—they knew the bare minimum: there had been an...incident...with Dream and someone that involved, on Dream's part, some non-consensual actions taking place, and that was why the guardian of positivity was staying with them for a bit.

Dream knew that Nightmare's gang was smart, though, and that they had probably read between the lines to understand the actual reason, even if they had been told the truth.

Dream...had been raped.

Admitting that to himself brought shivers and an automatic denial that said no, he wasn't, he was just stupid and naïve and pathetic and he let it happen, it was his fault, his fault, and he could've stopped it, should've stopped it, but he didn't because he was, again, stupid and pathetic and—

Drip, drop

Dream shook himself, realized he had been silent for longer than he should have and laughed nervously, the sudden sound making Horror jump a little.

"S-sorry, I...got lost, for a minute there," Dream said, shaking his head at himself, resting his gaze on the countertop where it was drawn, as if by a magnet, to the two innocent glasses of water. The ice in them had already melted quite a bit.

There was an itch in his mind that begged to come forward, promising another flashback.

Drip...drop

Dream swallowed. "I'm fine," he said softly, in answer to the unheard question. He could feel Horror's eyes on him as he stared at and through the glasses of water. He ignored them and the concern rolling off of the other.

He felt Horror start to speak and braced himself. "...do you remember why we're in the kitchen?"

Dream blinked and looked to Horror, meeting the other's guarded eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. That...wasn't the question he expected. He opened his mouth to answer what seems like an easy question, but found his mind blanking on the answer, like he had just woken up.

But he hadn't. He had been awake for a while now, he knew it.

So why didn't he remember?

His silence was answer enough for Horror, who nodded as if he had heard something. "We were in the garden, picking some fruits and berries that were ready. I was there because it's my job as the designated chef to gather everything that grows there." He paused, as if making sure he was still listening. "You were there because of two reasons: Nightmare wanted a reason to get you out of your room and you wanted some fresh air from being inside the castle for almost a month."

Dream listened quietly while Horror explained what they had been doing. As he talked, fuzzy moments came back to Dream, though the talking was muffled and the scenery was blurred, like he was both there and not there at the same time.

...has it really been a month since then?

"We didn't talk much," Horror continued, "as I could see you weren't all there. Eventually, it became really hot and you asked if we could take a break, cool down for a minute. I agreed. When we got back here," he waved his hand to say, here, in the kitchen. "I asked if you wanted something to drink, you said that you did, although now that I look back, I probably should have asked you what you wanted to drink instead of just assuming." He eyed the glasses, laughing to himself.

Dream shook his head. "It's fine."

Horror looked back to Dream. "It's not, not really, but okay. As soon as I turned on the tap," he nodded to the sink behind him, "you froze, staring at the water. I didn't notice until I had gotten our glasses. Sorry."

"It's fine," Dream repeated, shaking his head again. "you didn't do anything wrong. It's silly, anyways."

"It's not silly." Horror straightened, steel in his voice. "It's not silly. What happened to you..." he trailed off as Dream cringed. "It's not silly."

Dream said nothing.

Drip...drop

He never drank the water, either.

~oOo~

The hours passed by rather slowly until it was after midnight. Dream was sitting on his bed, fingers playing with the blankets when there was a knock and Nightmare entered without waiting for permission. Which was fine, as it happened most nights; they practically shared a room now.

Nightmare would come, Dream would be awake, they would talk and Nightmare would force Dream to sleep, being there when Dream had a nightmare, usually being gone when he woke up for good, although there was a couple of times when Nightmare had been asleep when Dream woke up. It made Dream guilty, but he didn't stop it.

"Horror told me what happened." Nightmare said, like Dream thought he would. His brother was still standing by the door, like he did every night.

Dream nodded slightly.

It was silent.

He inhaled as he realized Nightmare was expecting him to talk. "It was silly."

"It wasn't."

He clenched the blankets in a fist by his side. "Yes, it is!" Dream blinked against the sudden wetness of his eyes. "It's weak, too."

"Dream, it isn't silly." Nightmare said firmly, moving to sit beside him. Dream refused to look at him. "Nor is it weak. These are normal reactions to what happened."

"What happened was almost a month ago!" Dream sniffed, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. He was so tired of crying. "I should be over it, but I'm not."

Nightmare was silent. "...that's not how things work, no matter how much we wish they did. Rape," —Nightmare ignored how Dream flinched at the word— "is one of the most serious things in the world. It's wrong, so, so wrong, but it still happens, and those it happens to don't just forget about it and move on suddenly. It's a process. You have to heal from being wronged and learn how to live with the effects of what happened. And that's going to take a while."

No.

No, he had to be wrong.

Dream had to be different because...

He should be different because...

Dream was shaking, trying to think of reasons as to why he should be different, why he should be over it already. He didn't know when, but his head had been moved to Nightmare's shoulder and Nightmare was hugging him as much as he could.

"I was drinking water that night," Dream started, surprising himself but finding himself unable to stop, "I was at a bar and I was drinking water and he didn't care and we talked and when we ran out, he offered to get us a refill. I tried to refuse him because I was just drinking water, but he insisted and he got me some more water, but I didn't realize he had drugged it." Dream sobbed, his emotions getting the best of him, reaching up with a shaking hand to clutch at Nightmare's shirt. "It's my fault."

"It's not." Nightmare shushed him, rubbing his back. "It's not, nor will it ever be your fault. You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it and it shouldn't have happened, but above all, it wasn't your fault."

~oOo~

Dream didn't know what to think of Error. The destroyer wasn't at the castle all of the time. He usually came, like, once a week or something and just lurked around a bit, annoying everyone but the guardian.

And he didn't know why. He wanted to know why.

But how did he ask something like that? 'Hey, I noticed you don't bother me when you're over and I know you probably know about what happened, but I still would like to know why.' No. That just sounded...weird. It was all weird, worrying about something so small like this but he couldn't help it. It was something he couldn't control and, frankly, he didn't want to. It was normal. He wanted normal things.

He was tired of things not being normal.

Admitting this didn't solve anything, though. He still worried about it. And he shook his head at himself when he caught himself drifting into the thoughts about it, the what-ifs and such. He did this a lot. It was also tiring.

It was one of the days that Error was over that something inside Dream rose.

It was like his bones were on fire, and every time something touched it, it hurt. It felt like hell and made him want to cry and cry but he couldn't because he was tired of crying and it was all so frustrating. Everyone walked around him, sneaking glances at him, because they knew something was wrong but they didn't know what. Even Nightmare was at a loss for once. And then everything was too much; the sounds too loud, the fabric too rough, everything heightened and he hated it.

HateditHateditHateditHatedit

Someone, he couldn't tell who, tried to touch him, rest their hand on his shoulder as a reassurance, but it stung. God, it stung so bad and Dream knew that he had to get away. He didn't know why, and that didn't help, but he had to get away from anything that wanted to touch him, bring back things he wanted to forget. So, he ran away from the problem.

Which was how he found himself in the bathroom, skin alight with ghost hands that he hated but couldn't get away from because they weren't real. His vision was blurry from tears he held back by force. Shivers racked his body, but they couldn't shake the memories away either.

—Hands tied to the headboard—

—Bad hands going over, down, over, down—

—Stupid, stupid, stupid—

—Over, down, over, down, down, down, hurting, hurting, hurting—

—Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate—

Dream shut his eyes tight, trying to drown the images in blackness, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. That was pathetic. He was supposed to be getting better, why wasn't he getting better? Why, why, why? He wanted to forget what happened. He couldn't forget what happened and that scared him.

He pressed his forehead to his knees and went in—

"Distraction usually helps me, when this happens."

—and out, eyes snapping open and head whipping up, Dream met the eyes of Error, who was sitting against the sink, shoulder relaxed. His head leaned back and up, one of his eyes closed, the other watching Dream.

He blinked. When did Error get here? Here, in the bathroom with him? He hadn't heard anything besides the images, the bad thoughts and his own breathing struggles. Was he so caught up in his head that hadn't heard anything else? How more pathetic could he...

He dug his fingers into his ankle, the pain keeping him from staying too far. No. He refused to say bad things about himself any longer. Nightmare said this was normal, this was healing, and if he said it then it must be right. If he continued to view it as unnatural and wrong, he would be disrespecting Nightmare and he never wanted to do that. Nightmare's trying to help and if says something is good then it must be good and that's good.

What Error says suddenly springs back to him and he tenses. "What?"

Error shifts, sitting up and opening his other eye, gazing at Dream evenly. He was still calm. "When this happens, when everything is too much." He pauses. "When the touch feels like, in my case, it's probably different for you, electricity, where it zaps me if anything touches me, reminds me that it's bad."

Dream blinked again and it's out of his mouth before he can stop it: "Like the fire?"

Error nods, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Yeah. The electricity, the fire, it lies, that's what you have to keep in mind. It says something bad, that touch itself is bad, but it's not." His gaze becomes knowing. "It can be, sometimes, but it's not meant to be like that. It's meant to be a good thing. Understand?"

Dream slowly nods, saying he does, though his mind is elsewhere.

A lie. A trick of the mind.

Like when he's in a small, small, small place and it's so dark he can't see anything and he thinks that everything's closing in when it's not, that he can't move when he can.

Just like that.

That feels like suffocation and touch feels like fire, but they're both lying. They both want him to believe somethings wrong when nothing is, all they're doing is trying to protect him, keep him from getting hurt again the same way he was. And sometimes, sometimes, they get so panicked that they scream and overwhelm him, but that's okay. That's normal.

He can calm them not that he knows what they're trying to do.

Dream looks up from the floor. "You said distraction works for you. What kind of distractions?"

Error tilts his head, thinking. "Lots of things, really. Going to Outertale and staring at the stars is one. It gets a bonus for being pretty. Watching Undernovela is another one, a great one because the talking overrides everything and it makes me laugh. Uh...Oh! Knitting, too, is one because the yarn is soft and..." Error continues on, rambling about distractions for himself that eventually just turns into an infodump about the process of knitting, how to choose the right yarn, things like that.

Dream sets his chin on his knees and listens, smiling.

Listening to people is a distraction he uses anyways so he's glad he can use it with this too.

~oOo~

Later, once Error leaves and Dream finds enough courage to face the others again, he goes downstairs. Everyone pauses once he enters the living room, stares at him for a second, then returns to what they were doing before he came. The only one who doesn't is Nightmare, who continues staring at Dream.

Dream looks back and gives a small smile, a real smile, the first one he's shared since he started living here. Nightmare blinks, surprised and smiles back, relieved that he's good.

~oOo~

Dream walked into the main living room and looked around. Nightmare wasn't there, but Dust and Killer were. They had cards in their hand and had looked up when he walked in. They went back to their game upon seeing who it was, seemingly unconcerned with his presence, but he did notice a slight increase in the tension of their shoulders.

Dream hesitated, but walked over when the curiosity (and worry) over where Nightmare was won out. "Um...do you—?"

"Boss had an errand to run," Killer answered, voice clipped. He seemed to be annoyed at something. "He took Cross and Horror with him. We had to stay to watch you."

Dream flinched.

"Killer." Dust warned, looking up from his cards.

Killer snorted, shrugging a bit. "Just telling sunshine here the truth."

Dream shifted and quietly thanked the two. He retreated back to the door, but paused before leaving. The two had gone back to their game. He watched them play for a minute, watching them laugh and glare at each other playfully.

The sight brought a feeling of longing.

He hadn't realized it until now, but he really missed his friends. He missed laughing with Ink and Blue. He missed playing games with the two, just like Dust and Killer were doing. He missed just being with them, when all they had to worry about was when Nightmare and his gang would attack next.

He missed the before. Dream liked the before. He didn't realize how much until it became the before and he was in the after. It was kind of shocking, just how much he missed those times, the sense of normality and happiness. Now, here he was, watching two friends play a game together while his friends had no clue where he was. They were probably out of their mind with worry, especially Ink, who was there before everything changed.

Maybe he should...

No, no. He couldn't. That wouldn't be fair on them. This was his problem, his...trauma. He didn't need to burden his friends with the knowledge of what happened.

His friends didn't need to know, right?

He was fine with what he had now.

…right?

"Hey, sunshine!" Killer called, making Dream jump. The two had apparently finished their round, as Dust had started to reshuffle the cards. Killer had turned to Dream and had an expectant look on his face. "Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna join in?"

Dream blinked. "What?"

Killer rolled his eyes, which was interesting; he didn't have any eyelights. "If you're gonna stand there, you might as well join in. It'll beat just standing and doing nothing while you wait for Nightmare."

They...they wanted him to join their game?

(Why would they want his presence? He was their enemy.)

But...

But...he thought the two were uncomfortable with his presence. Weren't they? That's the message the tense shoulders had given him, along with the clipped tone Killer had talked with. Did Dream imagine all that? Surely not. But they didn't have any tension now; just the opposite, they looked like they wanted him to join.

Well...if they wanted him too, it wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, maybe all he needed to soothe the longing was to play a game with other people.

"Um, yeah! I'll join."

"Great!" Dust smiled and patted the spot across from them. Dream sat down and waited as they were all dealt out. They had been playing a game of Uno. Good. It was a game that he knew. Dust flipped over the first card, which was revealed to be a yellow seven.

Killer's turn was next. He placed down a blue seven, changing the colour.

Dream hesitated before playing a blue eight.

They played in silence for a few minutes. Killer always groaned when he got faced with a skip or a plus two. Dust just faintly smiled when it happened to him and in response to Killer. Dream watched it all happen, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

They had gotten a fair amount into the game—Dust had two cards, Killer had nine and Dream had four—when Killer shifted his legs into a different position and spoke up. "You know, sunshine, you don't have to just stick by the Boss while you're here. The rest of us don't bite."

Dream looked up from his cards, oddly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I...I don't know what you mean..."

Killer gave him an unimpressed look. "I think you do. The first few weeks you were here, you locked yourself up in your room. Which is fine. You weren't ready then, I understand." Dust played a card and Killer scowled, picking up a card from the draw pile. "However, you've been coming out of the room for...what has it been? Two weeks? And all you've done is hang around with the Boss."

Dream stilled. "Oh."

"Yeah." Killer looked up and met his eyes, his emotions giving nothing away to what he was thinking. "You don't have to do that, you know. We aren't gonna be mean or anything—" Dust snorted at that. Killer glared at him. "We're not...I'm not gonna be mean or anything."

Dream shifted himself, an unplaceable feeling growing.

Dust spoke up, voice soft. "We know what happened."

Dream fought hard not to flinch, instead staring hard at his cards as if he could burn them with his mind. He didn't know why this was so scary for him to hear. He knew they knew already. But still...

Down, down, down, down—

Fear, panic, guilt, confusion—

Hurting, hurting, hurting, hurting—

Sometimes he still found it hard to believe that other people cared about him, not just that their source/drug of happiness might be broken.

"I'm not saying it's necessarily wrong for you to stay beside Nightmare so much," He heard Killer continue, voice still deceivingly uncaring, apathetic. "but it might not be the healthiest. I mean, you give off the vibes of needing to talk to more than one person about your issues."

"Everyone here has their share of trauma, Dream." Dust said, voice still soft and gentle. "It might not be quite the same as yours, but we know what it's like. You can talk to us, okay?"

"When you're ready, of course," Killer reassured. They were both gazing at him when Dream finally looked up. "if you want to just talk to Nightmare, that's fine. You do you. We just want you to understand that we're also here if you need us." Killer slid into a grin, gesturing to the cards. "Or if you just want to play Uno."

Dream swallowed.

This was a lot to take in.

He appreciated it, he really did. He also was under the impression that he had already known that they were willing to help, especially after talking to Horror and Error, but the fact that tears were welling up in his eyes made him think otherwise. It was overwhelming that the people he had fought tooth and nail with not that long ago were the ones telling him this now.

Overwhelming and needed.

The smile he had been fighting won out and spread across his face. He reached up and wiped away his tears before addressing the two, soul filled with gratitude. "Thank you." He made sure his words sounded genuine, even though he knew they knew he meant them already. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Dust nodded and looked back at his hand. "Great. Now," he grinned, placing down a plus four wild card. Killer gasped, offended. "Killer, pick up four. And it's red now."

"It was already red! You can't just change it to the colour it was!" Killer continued to fume, though he also began to pick up four cards, seemingly forgetting that he could challenge Dust. It seems Dust knew this would happen; he had a smug look in his eye and he sent Dream a wink when he caught him looking.

Dream looked down and let himself start to giggle.

~oOo~

Dream had been thinking recently.

One, he didn't know what happened to Jake. This had come to his mind during a bad day, one where he couldn't leave his room because the thought of going outside of it made his skin tingle and a feeling of utter fear run through him. When Nightmare had first found him, it was the next morning and he hadn't mentioned anything about the whereabouts of Jake since. It made him wonder. It also made him a bit fearful, not knowing what happened to his rapist.

The second thing...was that he hadn't seen nor heard from his friends Ink and Blue since the raping. For the months he's been here, he hadn't even thought about them until not that long ago. It also made him wonder. How they were feeling, if they missed him, if they were looking for him. Knowing them, they were probably scoring the multiverse for him. Not that they would find him. Nightmare's castle was hidden very well. Not that it would matter; they still thought Nightmare and him were on bad terms with each other.

Thinking about his friends made something ache in him. He really missed them. He hadn't noticed it, but he did. He missed their movie nights, where Ink would criticize the movie and Blue would defend it and Dream would just laugh at them, amused. He missed when they all baked together, almost burning down the house because they sucked at it. The game nights, the sleepovers, the laughs, the bonding...he missed them so much.

They were great friends.

And Dream needed to tell them what happened.

The need to do so filled him, made his heart pound and mind race. He wanted to see them again and they deserved to know. He trusted them. Nightmare and his gang knew, but he hadn't trusted them at first. He had always trusted Ink and Blue. Telling them was something he could control. He could decide whether he told them or not.

And he decided to tell them.

He just had to tell Nightmare that now.

~oOo~

The next morning, Dream rehearsed what he was going to say over and over. He knew that Nightmare would probably agree, say that it was a good thing he wanted to tell his friends, but he just...couldn't get himself to move, to knock on Nightmare's door and ask.

Instead, he just found himself staring at the dark wood.

Staring and staring and staring.

He sighed.

It was frustrating. He knew that wanting to tell people about Jake was good, that it meant he was recovering and healing, but somehow—somehow, his mind didn't really recognize that as a real thing that will happen. If felt too good to be true, that they'd look at him with disgust and say it was his fault and confirm everything he already thought of the incident and oh god he can't do this why was he here oh god oh god oh god—

The door opened from the inside and Dream yelped as a tentacle pulled him through, Nightmare shutting the door behind it. The appendage dragged him along as Nightmare returned to his desk, first dropping him in one of the seats in front of it and then taking his seat for himself.

Nightmare laced his fingers together and stared at Dream expectantly.

Dream stared back with wide eyes, frozen stiff.

Silence reigned.

…

Nightmare sighed, making Dream jump, nerves on edge from being pulled into the room so suddenly and put in the spotlight before he was ready (even though he knew everything he wanted to say and could pretty much predict the ending). His brother waved his hand, leaning back. "So?"

Dream blinked. Now was his chance. All he had to do was say 'I need to talk to you, Night'. It's not that hard. 7 words. Practically nothing! So, c'mon mouth work with him here and say it...now— "So?"

—or just repeat what was said. That works too. At least you said something.

Nightmare stared. "You were standing outside the door for some time, clearly anxious to ask me something." He paused and looked away, sheepish. "I was getting a bit annoyed with waiting." He looked back, gaze knowing again. "I decided to take the initiative for you and open the door, as you would probably think yourself into going away."

He took a breath. "So, I'll ask again. What did you want to ask me, Dream?"

Dream broke off the eye contact, instead looking at his hands as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt. He knew that Nightmare was watching him, waiting. He was always waiting for Dream, no matter if it was now or back then, when he was waiting for him to come back to the tree.

He didn't like being waited on. It made him feel awful that others had things to do and people to hang out with and instead of doing those things, they were waiting for him, as if they needed his permission or something. Dream was fine on his own, he could handle it, they should just do their own thing and the next time they met, he'd be better.

Except with...this.

Rape wasn't a thing he could handle on his own.

That's why he needed to do this, why he was here. He had to ask—no. Not ask. He had to tell Nightmare that he was going to tell Ink and Blue about what happened. He didn't tell the gang himself what happened, at the time not being able to admit what had happened to him. But he was somewhat glad they knew without him telling. It was easier that way.

But Blue and Ink were his friends, not Nightmare's.

Dream deserved to tell them what happened himself.

"I want to tell Ink and Blue."

Nightmare paused, making Dream look up. His brother was eyeing him cautiously, a faint surprise present in the air. "About what?"

A rhetorical question.

Nightmare already knew.

He just wanted Dream to say it. "About Jake. And the bar. And what happened." He took a breath. "Everything."

Nightmare watched him for a moment. And he said, so soft and gentle understanding, "Okay."

That was all.

Just "Okay."

It was all that was needed to be said.

The surprise faded and pride took its place. Not much, but it was enough for Dream to detect. It made him shy and feel weird, but in a good way, and he looked down at his hands again, this time fighting a smile. He always got this way when someone was proud of him; it didn't happen as often as people assumed, so it was always nice.

Nightmare caught his attention again. "Do you know when you want to tell them?"

Dream shifted and frowned. "No...I didn't think that far ahead." And though he knew Nightmare didn't like it when he did it, added, "Sorry."

Nightmare glared at him with no real intent. "Don't be. It's fine. How about in...a couple of weeks? Would that be enough time?"

Two weeks, more or less.

Dream mulled it over.

Having a set time for seeing his friends again already made him nervous, but he dug deeper to see if it was enough time to prepare himself mentally. No real backlash came, no fear, no what-ifs, nothing besides the normal—or at least what Nightmare says is the normal—amount of worries. He wasn't starting to overthink it yet, and he should probably make his decision now before he does start to and backs out.

Two weeks. Yes or no?

Dream looked up and met Nightmare's eyes and said, "Yes."

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #undertale #utmv #dream sans #nightmare sans #horror sans #error sans #killer sans #dust sans #mentioned ink sans #mentioned blue sans #implied rape #tw implied rape #tw flashback #tw panic attack #tw self-harm

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askbloomtale · 7 years

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Chapter 13 is up!!! This one chapter looks... different, somehow.

For those who can’t access AO3 or just don’t want to do it, the chapter is pasted under this sexy cut!!!

Bloomtale

Chapter 13 – The promise

Snowdin Forest was as quiet as usual. The faint, soporific light that shone through the trees, the comfy-looking snow… Yup, it was another nice day.

Another day of probably doing nothing special.

Anyway, leaving that aside… hunger was beginning to set in. Bones would itch for too long if no food was given to them. The mysterious and magic mystery of starvation, indeed. Wait, mysterious and mystery in the same sentence? That could’ve been way better. What a mys-ery.

Heh. That one was also bad. Time to git gud, probably. Maybe the lack of food was to blame?

Oh, anyway. As soon as the first hungry roar sounded, the answer was clear. Staying at that checkpoint would do nothing. After all, no one was there, and no one would be there anytime soon. Better to just scram and get something to munch on, like a burger. No one would notice if it was just for a little while.

The air quickly shifted as the skeleton pondered, his destination clear in his mind. And after a short second, new snow was under his feet and other trees surrounded him. There it was, the place he needed. His affixed smile seemed to widen as he pushed the door and set foot inside.

Finally, he thought. He had been dying to get there.

Familiar faces turned to him as he walked through the bar, directly to his favorite spot at the counter. Of course, the few people that were there at that hour smiled and greeted him, as usual.

“Hey, Sans!” A horse-like monster lifted a hoof to greet him, and the short skeleton smiled and lifted a gloved hand back.

“Hiya, Sansy~!” The bunny from the nearest table was smiling at him, maybe a little too much. Seems like he had been having too much fun again. Welp, Sans was no party pooper. Just leave them be.

He jumped to the first seat he saw, and let his bony butt rest there. The bird-like creature that was now sitting next to him smiled, curious.

“Hi, Sans. We expected you to be here much earlier,” he said, cocking his head to one side. Sans smiled as well.

“welp. i would’ve come earlier, but that car magazine was too interesting. i couldn’t help but car-fully read every single word,” he replied, giving a playful wink shortly after the pun was delivered. While he did that he also looked at an imaginary camera, as if he were on a live show. He could almost hear the drum beats.

Everyone laughed. As they always did, of course. Sans was a really punny guy, after all. Even if his brother could not stand his puns, apparently most people liked them.

What a great populace. Sans laughed a bit to himself too and then turned to the barman, the hottest guy in town. Maybe because he was actually made of fire? Who knows? He was the only one that didn’t laugh, but… that was just Grillby.

“sup, grillbz.” Sans greeted his old friend with a lazy hand wave and then let the upper part of his body rest upon the counter. Man, everything felt really heavy that day… he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. Maybe fifteen more minutes before waking up… that would be good. But leaving that aside –he would sleep later, probably – the reason why he came there was not just to say hi to everyone, so he placed his order right away. “gimme the usual.”

No need to say it twice; the orange flame man nodded and went straight into the kitchen to prepare one of those nasty burgers Sans liked so much. The other monsters didn’t understand why he knew so much about food and yet, he ordered the worst of it. Not like they cared that much anyway. Let bybones be bybones, as the skeleton would say.

Sans tapped his bony fingers against the wooden counter as he waited for Grillby. His mind, as always, was wondering someplace else. Did he leave the back door open? Was the tornado trash off, or did he leave it on? And most importantly… where was his ketchup bottle? He searched his pockets looking for it, but he couldn’t find it.

Usually, he always carried some of those with him, so it was no problem, but that one was already open… maybe he left it at his stand? What a shame.

Welp, that’s what Grillby’s ketchup bottles are here for, he thought.

A sudden noise woke him up from his daydreaming.

“oh hey, thanks,” the skeleton smiled when he saw that Grillby was back with his burger. A feeling of uneasiness hit him when he saw that his friend was looking at him… weirdly. One fire eyebrow lifted, and his mouth curled in an ambiguous frown.

“…” He wasn’t a man of many words, but clearly he seemed concerned about something.

“what’s up, man? Left the stove on?” Sans tried to escape that situation with a wink and a pun, but it didn’t work. The stare remained unmovable.

Grillby’s… “interpreter”, the bird man, decided to speak for him. The winged monster usually made up whatever he thought the fire monster was thinking, but sometimes he got it right. That was one of those days.

“He’s probably wondering why you’re coming here less than usual lately.”

There it was, the bitter truth.

“oh. well, it’s no big d,” the male skeleton tried to brush it off. “been busy, ya know.”

Now Grillby crossed his arms. He didn’t look convinced at all. Oops. He knew Sans well enough to know that he did not have that much work. Or, well… maybe he had, but that wasn’t a reason for him to not go there on his breaks. And he had many, many breaks. Usually self-imposed. So if he said he had “work”… maybe something was up?

But what a pain, anyway. Sans wasn’t there to be interrogated… he didn’t want to talk about work. And he had yet to work more. With a tired sigh, Sans just shrugged and decided to attack his burger, swallowing it in a few seconds, for the amazement of the people that stood close to him.

“sorry, gotta go. papyrus will yell at me if i don’t work at least a bit today.” And with that, he jumped off the chair. Successfully eluding Grillby’s questions, who had already given up on trying to get anything form him. He was still crossing his arms, but he was now sighing, with a concerned frown. Sans didn’t really like that… so he tried to reassure his friend at least a bit. “hey, listen. don’t worry. it really is work, alright? i’ve been working myself down to the bone lately, believe me.”

More laughs.

Grillby didn’t look really convinced, but he just let it go. Maybe it was nothing serious. He would trust Sans on that one.

And in fact, the skeleton was not lying… he had been really busy lately. He couldn’t tell Grillbz about it, anyway… he couldn’t tell anybody.

Nobody shall know.

Sans walked to the door again, not bothering to say bye. He would be back soon anyway, there was no point in farewells. Instead, he was thinking of getting back home for some more investigating. He had been getting really interesting readings lately…

But alas, it was not meant to be. His real work was calling. Or… more like someone in particular was.

“SANS!!” The short monster lifted his head, alerted by the sudden yelling. To his inconvenience, it was no other than his magnificent brother. His red cape waving with the soft breeze, and his battle body shining as usual. How cool.

“sup, bro,” he said, knowing perfectly what was ‘up’. But he liked to feign ignorance, because that would usually make his little bro angry. It was fun.

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S ‘UP’, YOU LAZYBONES!!” Yup. Exactly what he thought. “YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR STATION AGAIN!! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?? I THOUGHT YOU WERE AT YOUR POST!!”

“i was. but i came for a break,” Sans shrugged. He wouldn’t mention that was his third break of the day. Papyrus didn’t need to know everything, after all.

“YOU’RE ALWAYS TAKING BREAKS… WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU? AT THIS RATE I’LL NEVER GET INTO THE ROYAL GUARD!!” Poor Papyrus was too busy feeling sorry about himself to prevent what was coming.

“don’t worry bro. keep your guard up, i’m sure the chance will come someday,” the small skeleton made special emphasis in the word ‘guard’ so Papyrus would notice the pun even more. Papyrus’ expression shifted from a grateful smile to a bitter frown when he realized.

“OH MY GOD SANS. PLEASE STOP YOUR PUNS AND GO TO WORK!!” The tall monster took a deep breath and started walking away, seemingly defeated… but no! Nothing defeats the great Papyrus! He turned around midway and pointed to his old brother, with a severe look in his eye sockets. “AND DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT BOONDOGGLING AROUND, I’LL BE WATCHING YOU!!

“sure thing, paps. i’ll keep an eyesocket on the place for ya.” Sans was smiling, knowing that he would indeed be watching. Welp, maybe he could get to his ‘hobby’ later. Maybe. Since it was his brother, he didn’t mind it that much.

Papyrus grumbled and then nodded, relatively pleased. He was not really convinced, but still. He would be watching him for real. That morning, he hadn’t been lucky in his human-catching quest, but soon… soon!

“I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES!! TODAY HAS TO BE THE DAY… TODAY, I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN!! NYEHEHEHE!!” The monster walked away towards Waterfall as he yelled, attracting many curious looks. He was making quite a ruckus after all. But of course, he didn’t care at all. There was a report to hand to Undyne, and she would be so impressed once she heard about his very productive day! Nothing had happened at all! Nice job, Papyrus!

Sans imagined the whole situation in his head as he turned to Snowdin Forest. He snickered. Man, his bro was always so excited about everything. He hadn’t even been able to catch any human that morning – or ever –but he kept his spirits high and he never gave up. He was so hopeful and happy all the time. How cool.

Welp. Time to get back to work. Sans walked to the gigantic tree that was in the middle of the town and took one of his “shortcuts” again. Of course, he was not going to walk all the way back. That would be too much work. It just took a flash of blue light, and he soon was at the very beginning of Snowdin forest.

“oops. seems like i stretched it too far,” the skeleton laughed softly when he was he was right at the mysterious door. Too close to the beginning of the forest. It wasn’t knock-knock time yet, was it?

It had been some time. One day, he was practicing knock-knock jokes at that same door, because… it was such a huge door, what a waste if he didn’t practice his knock-knock jokes on it. And one day, what sounded like an old lady answered him from the other side. She was a great audience, and almost as good with puns as him. He had so much fun, he came back there every day. Not like she was always there, but…he didn’t have anything better to do, anyway.

What?

Work?

Nah.

Smiling as always, Sans approached the door and gave it a little knock. Then waited.

…

No response. Huh. Okay. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe it was too late? What time was it, again? Afternoon… maybe it was indeed too late. Welp then, he was doomed to go back to his stand and suffer boredom once again.

As he walked, he remembered... the old lady didn’t sound really happy the other day. He had been telling jokes as usual, and she wasn’t really responding as she always did. She seemed glummer than she normally did. Once he asked what was wrong, she…

“Oh. So you noticed.”

“welp, it’s my job to assess the crowd. in-crowdible, right?”

“Hehe…well, you caught me. The truth is… I have a guest.”

“oh, that’s cool. why is that a bad thing, tho? you sound sad.”

“You see…”

And then she told him. How a young skeleton lady had visited her. She didn’t give him many details, she just mentioned that they were a really bright and smart girl. Curious, pretty… but that she wanted to go home. And the young monster’s home was not with her. She didn’t want to, but she had to let her go. It was the right thing to do.

Sans didn’t know there were skeletons in the Ruins. Interesting.

He kept walking down the snowy path as he reminisced about the conversation. Not really paying attention to his surroundings, as usual. He could just teleport back, but nah, he didn’t feel like it anymore. And it wasn’t that far anyway, he could just walk.

But then, something caught his attention, making him stroll away from his thoughts.

A glimmer of gold in the snow. The skeleton looked at the trail ahead, confused, but he saw nothing. Strange… he frowned as he scratched his bony head. He would’ve sworn that he had seen…

Walking slightly further, Sans checked the snow for any signs of golden stuff. Like a necklace, a book, or whatever that could be golden or yellow-ish. But of course, he found nothing. Maybe it had just been his imagination. Was he too tired? Was he seeing things?

Whatever. It surely wasn’t that important anyway.

As he checked the snow, he saw a really big branch that had been tossed aside the road. The usual big branch that he didn’t want to move because it looked heavy. Had that thing always been there, on the side of the way? He surely didn’t move it…

Maybe Papyrus had. After all, his brother was the coolest. He smirked as he resumed his walking, giving up on the golden thing already. It just wasn’t there, man. Who cared?

And maybe because he had been thinking about it just a few seconds ago, his mind wandered back to his conversation with the old monster. Right after she told him about the skeleton girl… whose name he didn’t know. He didn’t ask. Oops.

“Could I ask you a favor, please?” The old lady’s voice was still clear in his mind.

“maybe. depends on what it is.” He had replied with his usual careless tone. He wasn’t a man of favors and promises. It was a bother, and he couldn’t usually fulfill them.

“She… she will be leaving soon. Could you please keep an eye on her?” Sans remembered how he had lifted an eyebrow as the old monster quickly continued. “Oh, I know you are busy, and she is old enough to take care of herself, I guess, but… I am still worried. She looks so helpless sometimes…”

“huh.” Sans wasn’t sure on how to feel about that.

“I am not asking you to watch her all the time. Maybe just… just for a bit. I would only like to see how she is doing out there, that’s all.” Her voice was begging.

Oh, there it was! His ketchup bottle! Sans reached for it and shook it a tad. Then, after checking it was still not empty, he gave it a sip.

That old lady… she had the same love for puns as he did. It was a kind of integrity he couldn’t really say no to. She was just worried, after all. He could keep an eye socket out for that girl, whoever she was. Not like he knew how she looked, but he would probably know as soon as he saw her. There weren’t any skeletons in Snowdin aside from him and his brother, after all. It would not be that hard. Just watching.

The short skeleton was cleaning his mouth with his sleeve as he thought so, but then he noticed something interesting.

Footsteps.

There were some footsteps around his station.

How curious… he didn’t notice those before; maybe he mistook them with his own, because they was also a small shoeprints. But… if he looked closely, they were too small. And that was not what his shoe looked like. Huh, so someone paid a visit to his checkpoint. Sans wondered who could’ve been…

…

No, wait. Tracing the footsteps, they came from… the Ruins.

“interesting… i didn’t expect ya to come out this soon.” Sans muttered, having a quite clear idea of who those prints belonged to. Indeed, the way they surrounded his checkpoint, and the lamp… it matched what the old lady said about a certain curious girl. He sighed and put the ketchup bottle back to where it truly belonged, inside his jacket. So now he had to look for her or something?

What a bother.

Better not.

He never said he would check on her RIGHT AWAY, after all. He was tired and just wanted to sit down and read more of his car magazine. There were some hella cool cars that Papyrus would surely love to check out, someday.

So he did just that. He slowly walked to his station and sad down. He took a moment to look at the footprints once again before shrugging and muttering a lazy “nah”. It didn’t matter anyway. He searched for the worn slick and stared at the car on the first page. Maybe he could get a motorbike or something… it would be cool.

As if that was gonna happen.

Submerged in his reading now, the skeleton didn’t even hear the distant screaming that could be heard far away in the woods.

Sans – 11 Puns Snowdin – Entrance Ketchup bottles: 6

#Bloomtale #Bloomtale AU #Chapter 13 #Main Story #Snowdin #Entrance #Sans #Grillby #Thanks for reading <3

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seekingseven · 4 years

Text

Mephibosheth Ch.3

Chapter 3 of my Undertale fanfic! You can read the story here on AO3 as well!

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"Asriel, there are still monsters in there. A lot."

The Prince tried to swallow a sigh. There wasn't any point in arguing with Chara's observation. Bright light oozed out of Grillby's windows and pooled onto the sparkling snow outside, the friendly halo around the building only emphasizing the liveliness within. The sound of clinking glasses and raucous laughter could be heard all the way from Snowdin Town's welcome sign, where a shirtless goat and disgruntled human stood side-by-side.

"Gosh, I, aha, musta misjudged the time. I-I thought the place would be a little closer to closing time and, uh, there'd be fewer monsters. Sorry." Chara gave him an unimpressed look. The goat boy cringed and scratched the back of his head, wincing when his claws snagged on a knotted snarl of fur. He muttered some more apologies and offered to pop into the adjacent shop to buy them a few sandwiches. His companion said nothing. Their eyes were fixed on Grillby's.

"Go-lly, Chara. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to upset you! I know that you're probably not comfortable being around other monsters yet, especially that many. I really wouldn't have suggested we go there if I knew the place would be this packed. If we, I mean, if you want to go on the ferry now, we can." Asriel's apologies were addressed to the snow under his feet - he didn't have the fortitude to look his friend in the face.

There was the sound of rustling cloth and muffled grunts.

"Take your jacket."

Asriel looked up to see his sweater dangling in front of him, collar pinched between Chara's thumb and forefinger. The goat boy blinked twice then shook his head vehemently.

"Please, Asriel. Take your jacket. I don't need it anymore." Chara's voice had dropped an octave lower, soft exhales of air mingling with the words themselves.

"What do you mean you don't need it anymore? We're still in Snowdin."

A cheerful, wet breeze sent an armful of snow in their faces as if to assert the fact.

Chara sighed. "What would people think if Asriel, Prince Asriel, walks into Grillby's shirtless, soaked, and shivering? There's no way that story can sound good, especially with a human in the mix."

The sweater fluttered in the breeze.

"Walk into Grillby's…? I thought you didn't wanna go there."

"You want to go there, so that's what we'll do."

Asriel was about to explain he didn't care much for the place and that the sacrifice was unnecessary, but the look on Chara's face murdered the words in his mouth.

The human's eyebrows were pressed together in concern, eyelids lifted just high enough for Asriel to glimpse the earnest look in Chara's eyes. Almost imperceptible shivers betrayed the fact that the human was already missing the second layer of warmth but had no intention of reclaiming it.

Chara cared.

Something in Asriel's SOUL stirred, and his resolve weakened. The human took a step forward and draped the limp jacket over Asriel's shoulder. Without another word, Asriel slipped it on.

"Thanks, Chara."

"Thanks? It's not my jacket, Azzy."

"No, I mean, thanks for agreeing to go to Grillby's. I promise we'll have a great time."

Chara placed a small, delicate hand on Asriel's shoulder.

"I trust you, goat boy."

Asriel snickered and blinked away happy tears. He slung his arm around his friend's shoulder, smiling to himself when the human visibly relaxed, and sauntered towards Grillby's.

»»-««

A sudden wave of curiosity hit Chara as the pair crept into the bustling restaurant. He stared at the lively scene through his bangs, wordlessly drinking in the scene. An army of anthropomorphic dogs stood crowded around a long table, barking and yelping loudly as chips and cards were tossed in the air. Lanky, serious figures sat silently at the bar. A mosaic of empty glasses stood at simpering attention in front of them, and their grave, hushed muttering was hardly audible. And was that...a family of bunny monsters sitting at a half-moon table? Chara’s eyes widened. It was as if a hundred different worlds and lifestyles converged at one venue. So many monsters!

So many monsters.

So many...

Blood clambered to the human's face. His fingers shook. Chara unrolled the turtleneck collar of his knit sweater and pulled it up to his chin, combed his bangs in front of his eyes, and held onto Asriel's hand even tighter. He let himself be pulled in a direction he only hoped was away from the other monsters. His blood screamed and pulsed at the back of his head.

"Don't worry, Chara," the goat boy said, "nobody even saw us come in."

"Hey, guys! Is that Prince Asriel?" a high-pitched voice cried out.

The entire restaurant went silent.

And then immediately erupted in cheers.

"Yo, Prince-boy! Tell your dad I say hi!"

"Hey, little dude! How's life treatin' ya?"

"Aww, he's made a friend! And they've even got matching sweaters!"

"Drinks on Asriel?"

"Drinks on Asriel!"

"Shut up, Jeremy. He's literally a kid."

"Nice one, Doggo."

"Wha- ugh! That was not intentional."

"You heard it here first, guys! Doggo is a secret comedian!"

"You better shut your stupid, noodle-arm, UFO, saucer-lookin' a-"

"Language!" A feminine voice exclaimed, "the Prince of the Underground is right there!"

Asriel glanced at Chara and inhaled sharply, letting his chest swell with the restaurant's confident, greasy air. He cleared his throat and gave the crowd a friendly wave. "Howdy, all. My friend and I are just here for a snack. How's everyone doing tonight?"

Chara's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. He hadn’t met this assertive, charismatic Asriel he was seeing just now.

"Very well, sir!"

"Better, now that you're here!"

"Jus' fine, lil' dude."

"Yo, Princey! Who's your friend? Never seen 'em around before."

Asriel squeezed Chara's hand tighter and gave the crowd a patient, practiced smile. "I would introduce him, but Mom expects me to be home in about an hour. Y'all know how it is. Didn't mean to cause a ruckus - just wanted to grab a bite and slip out."

Clever. The human was impressed.

"Aw, shoot! Didn't mean to hold you up."

"Mama Goat is gonna be real mad, lil' dude! Better get chomping."

The apologies and friendly noises continued, but Asriel was already leading Chara to a booth nestled in the corner of the restaurant. The human clambered onto the plush seating and pressed himself next to the window. A hushed sigh escaped him as the glass cooled his inflamed cheeks. Asriel gave the crowd one last wave before sidling up to his new friend. Chara stared at the frozen world outside. There was something ethereal about the way the restaurant's lights illuminated the lazy snow flurries outside. Each snowflake sparkled a bombastic yellow, delighted to have a spotlight on them for a mere second before they joined their brothers below. It seemed that Snowdin Town's beauty could only be appreciated when isolated from its weather.

Growing tired of the endless expanse of white, Chara focused on the scene within the building. With careful, squinted eyes, the human scrutinized the restaurant with the sort of acuity only comparable to a fascinated tourist. So many monsters, so many voices...so much friendliness crammed into one place.

Asriel made a grunting noise, the sharp tinkling of metal on wood bringing Chara's attention back to the table.

"Cripes. I've only got ten gold."

A jerk of Asriel's chin directed Chara's eyes to the tabletop, where ten dime-sized pieces of metal lay scattered. Asriel was holding a little brown pouch in his hand, pinching the bottom and shaking it over the table in hopes that more "gold" would drop out. Nothing did.

"Well, that should be enough for maybe a small fries. Or one milkshake. Ugh, but if we eat sweets before dinner, Mom will be very angry." Asriel huffed and scooped the pieces of metal back into the pouch, then turned to face Chara. "What would you like?"

"You'll get in trouble if you eat any sweets?" Chara whispered, rolling his collar back down and staring at Asriel in earnest.

"Well, yeah."

"Oh." The human combed his hair back with his fingers and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"D-did you want something sugary? It's not a problem! Mom's rule only applies to me, I'm pretty sure."

Chara placed his head in his hands, wincing as the dried skin on his cheeks and fingers tore from the movement. He resisted the urge to itch and focused instead on keeping his voice as somber as possible. "No, don't worry about it. I want the same thing as you. Get whatever you like."

Asriel stared at Chara through squinted eyes, then shook his head and crossed his arms. "N-nope. We're getting the biggest, sweetest, milky-est milkshake Mister Grillby will give us for ten gold. No friend of mine is going unsatisfied - not on my watch!"

As the goat boy walked away, chin high and chest puffed and money pouch dangling from a claw, Chara smiled.

That was much easier than he'd expected.

»»-««

It was difficult to surprise Grillby.

This was probably the natural consequence of being a father, entrepreneur, and local confidant. The three facets of his life, all unpredictable and untameable, had taught his SOUL to live peaceably with the unforeseen. A lifestyle of living on one's toes had a way of nurturing a harmonious relationship with a tumultuous world.

He was the embodiment of calm waters. Metaphorically.

Having the Prince of the Underground walk into your restaurant on a Saturday night with a disheveled shadow clinging to his paw, however, was undoubtedly an occurrence worthy of the epithet "surprise." He'd been thoughtfully remolding a highball glass Jeremy shattered, listening carefully to a customer's drunken monologue, when someone announced the Prince's arrival. Shocked, he'd lost control of his flames for a split second and liquified the glass shards in his hands. The surprises kept coming, however. Upon realizing what the lanky, shaggy-haired figure hovering behind the Prince was, he accidentally set the wood beneath him on fire.

Now the floor behind the bar was scorched, and there was a red, goopy mess on his bar top he didn't know how to fix.

And there was a human in his restaurant.

The bartender let out a subdued crackle that could only be interpreted as a sigh.

He was glad that none of his customers had recognized exactly what "Asriel's little friend" was. There were only so many angry dogs and scared rabbits he could placate with his near-inaudible voice, even less when his whirlwind of emotions made controlling his flames an uncelebrated feat.

Saturday nights were relentless in every sense of the word.

He'd just supplied Jeremy with his third basket of cheese fries (and a set of napkins in vain hope the saucer-shaped monster would take the initiative to clean up after himself) when an unmistakable voice diverted his attention.

"Howdy, Mister Grillby!"

Grillby looked down. Asriel looked up.

"Sorry to cause such a, uh, fuss. I thought there would be fewer people or something at this time…"

The bartender folded his hands behind his back, waiting for the little Prince to find the words he needed.

"I, uh…"

The Prince heaved a quivering sigh and looked around. His eyes seemed to be looking for something, be it relief, words, or confidence, but they quickly dropped back to the floor.

An emotive, inebriated speech on the other side of the restaurant had just tapered off, and the ensuing volcano of applause caused the Prince to wince. With a wide, blank look in his eyes, he suddenly turned away and hid his head in his paws.

"I, ah…"

It took a few seconds for Grillby to notice the nearly-imperceptible shaking of Prince Asriel's shoulders. Muffled hiccups accompanied hushed, watery inhales. He knew that sound exceptionally well - what father didn't?

Grillby's metaphorical heart broke.

If this was because of the human…

He shook the dark thoughts out of his head. Yes, it was a human. But it was also a child .

"Your Majesty."

Asriel turned around in surprise. To hear Grillby talk was a phenomenon that must be seen as well as heard, regardless of how teary-eyed and snot-nosed one was. The bartender suppressed a smile at the Prince's exaggerated reaction - now wasn't the time - and made a waving motion urging the Prince to accompany him towards the bar. After effortlessly weaving through the crowds and casting the occasional backward glance to ensure that Prince Asriel hadn't drowned in the mob, the bartender ushered the goat behind the bar.

Anticipating the Prince's confusion, Grillby held up one flaming finger to indicate that he would only be gone for a second. Asriel watched silently as the elemental ducked into the back room and emerged with a spare stool and chocolate bar that, somehow, retained its solid form despite its handler. The bartender set the stool next to the Prince and motioned for him to take a seat, handing him the chocolate bar when he did. The goat looked at the candy in his paws with a distant air of awe. It was king-sized.

"Thank you, sir."

The chocolate bar remained untouched and unopened, but Grillby nodded his head in recognition anyway. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to get the Prince so shaken up. Nobody in the restaurant had treated Prince Asriel with even the slightest amount of disrespect, so it couldn't be that. And aside from looking cold and a little bit wet, the Prince didn't seem to have any injuries. The bartender rested an arm on the counter and leaned onto it. No need to rush an explanation.

"Excuse me, Mister Grillby," the Prince started up again, "d-do you have milkshakes that cost ten gold or less?"

Grillby dipped his head towards his chest in incredulity. He nodded slowly but said nothing. There was no need for anyone to point out that milkshake prices weren't to blame for the Prince's current emotional state. His flames swelled when he traced the Prince's gaze over to the booth where the human sat. Old grudges clambered at his throat. Grillby pushed them down with practiced expertise.

"My friend is real hungry. H-he hasn't eaten anything in a while." The Prince gave the bartender a cloudy look and dropped his voice further. "I know he wants a milkshake. But he's too afraid to ask for it because I told him Mom will be angry if I eat something sweet before dinner, and I only have money for one thing. And, you know, I just want him to be happy. But I don't want to disappoint my Mom either."

Ah. This made a little more sense. Grillby had always known Asriel to be on the delicate side, both physically and emotionally, so his desperation to please was understandable. After all, validation from others was, unfortunately, the cheapest way to heal temporary cracks in one's self-esteem. Grillby sighed again, his thoughts weighing heavily on his shoulders. The Prince of the Underground was so unsure of his worth that the mere prospect of rejection was enough to make him cry. He stifled the urge to place a hand on the Prince's shoulder - children didn't usually take well to being too close to a fire elemental.

At least there was something he could do to make the situation a little better.

Waving away Prince Asriel's proffered money pouch, Grillby disappeared to the kitchen. He emerged minutes later with two massive hamburgers dripping with translucent yellow grease, balancing the plates on his shoulders as he twirled the utensils between his fingers. The steam from the burgers clouded up his glasses, forcing him to set down the dishes on the bar and wipe the lenses. He motioned for the Prince to follow him, the plates returning to their perch on Grillby's fingertips.

Anxious footsteps echoed after Grillby's. "Sir, I can't pay for that! Please, Mister Grillby!" The Prince's anxious bleating drew the attention of a few customers who looked at the scene and burst into laughter.

"Lookit, Saint Grillby is back at it again!"

"Don't' worry, lil' dude! Mr. Fire Man has got your back."

"Hey, Grillbz! If I told you I was Prince Asriel's long lost cousin, would I get a free hamburger too?"

Realization dawned on Prince Asriel's face, and a mirthful puff of steam escaped Grillby. The bartender believed with his entire being that too many good things were crammed into this small place. He was beyond grateful for his noisy, lively customers - they were as much a part of the restaurant as the burgers, fries, and drinks. Again, the Prince tugged on his pants. Once he knew he had Grillby's attention, the little goat spouted off a string of half-memorized reasons why he couldn't accept the gift. The bartender shook his head and walked briskly to the booth where the human sat, smiling as the Prince bounded ahead, untouched chocolate bar in hand, to give their friend a description of the developing situation.

Grillby almost set the entire building on fire when he saw a flash of pure fury on the human's face. It was gone in an instant, and the bartender reminded himself that this was a child , that he'd been working for hours and was probably seeing things, that there was no reason for a kid to be so ideologically opposed to the idea of a free hamburger.

Setting down the two burgers in front of the children and once again deflecting the Prince's attempts to pay, he gave the human his best impression of a smile. It tilted its head curiously. No further malice darkened its' face - no, no, not its , Asriel had said the human was a he. Grillby noticed coldly that the human had somehow taken possession of the Prince's chocolate bar.

After a few more increasingly half-hearted attempts at refusing the food, the Prince relented. Grillby took it as his cue to walk away. The sound of a raspy voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Thank you, Mister Grillby. We'll remember this."

The human.

Prince Asriel quickly echoed the human's sentiments, insisting that they both were extremely grateful and that he would ensure the Royal Family repaid him as soon as possible. Grillby turned around slowly, keeping a tight rein on his core temperature, and nodded curtly.

Jeremy's insistent cries for another basket of cheese fries were, for the first time, a welcome distraction.

»»-««

With a poorly suppressed burp, Asriel pushed his empty plate into the middle of the table. That was a good burger. He would have to convince Dad to bring him here more often. The Prince absentmindedly reached for a paper napkin and ran it over his muzzle, hoping it would absorb any traces of grease left in his fur.

"Howdya like the food, Chara?"

The addressed looked away from the window and down at their plate, which had hardly been touched.

"Wha-! You didn't eat anything!"

"Yes, I did."

Chara pressed the pads of his fingers delicately on the porcelain plate and spun it around, revealing the other half of the burger. Or lack thereof. It was exactly half-eaten, having been split cleanly down the middle. Asriel giggled, then turned red.

"That's real clever, Chara. Sorry that I yelled at you."

The human blinked slowly, then shrugged.

"No harm done, Azzy."

The Prince nodded and pillowed his head on crossed arms, giving Chara a stern look. With slow, carefully picked words, he explained that they would have to leave soon to get home. Chara was silent as Asriel summarized the geography of the Underground, from Waterfall to Hotland to the Capital, entranced with his descriptions of the monsters that lived in each place. The Riverkid, the Lab, the labyrinth of strange elevators he ensured his ward he knew how to navigate...Chara clung onto every word with wide, sparkling eyes.

The flash of heat and weight of another presence near them snapped Asriel out of his monologue. Chara was already staring with a curious expression at the bartender in front of them.

"Oh, howdy, Mr. Grillby! Thank you so much for the meal. It was delicious." Asriel patted his stomach to emphasize the point. No response. The air was curiously tense. Grillby suddenly inclined his head towards the Prince in delayed response and picked his empty plate off the table, sliding a paper bag meant for take-aways in Chara's direction.

Slowly, Chara bundled up his half-eaten burger in a carefully folded napkin and slid it into the bag along with the chocolate bar. He pushed the porcelain plate towards the bartender and pressed his cracked cheeks to the cold glass of the window until the elemental was gone.

"Alright, then. Let's go, Chara!" Asriel's whispered words were lost in the surrounding hubbub, but him sliding out of the booth and pointing towards the door communicated his intentions flawlessly. With the paper bag in hand, Chara eased himself off the leather seating. He tossed a suspicious glance towards the bartender.

Grillby stared back.

They both looked away, minds prattling off a practiced list of explanations and rationalizations. Asriel gave the bartender a friendly wave as he pressed his paw on Chara's back, utterly oblivious to the tension sparking in the air.

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#chara #asriel #undertale #seeking7 #fanfiction

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