just as you breathe (post c_p)

[dustless]

Nobody gets why, halfway down the mountain, Frisk bolts.

Toriel and Asgore think they changed their mind about not having places to go or the ambassador idea. Everyone scatters through the trees to search for them--eventually, Papyrus is the one to stumble over them, to talk to them, to coax them back with his positive affirmations.

They don't explain why they stare at everyone like they're seeing their bare SOULs (yeah, punk, I'm great! WE'RE great, right, Alphys?), or why they keep touching their teeth (do you have a toothache, my child?), or why they constantly pace through the house they eventually move into with Toriel, opening doors as if they're expecting something else to be behind them (I don't think there are any monsters in the closet, little one).

It's just...Frisk. They're a good kid, even if they're a little strange.

Comments

[sansational]

Sans is used to putting a lot of pieces together with very little information.

Details come back slowly. But they usually do. Most of what he even remembers from the various resets are flashes and hazes and shadows. It's only because he's two steps to the right of time that he's able to understand that much, and put a basically complete picture together from very little.

He's anxious, for the first few weeks on the surface. Waiting for the other shoe. And it does come, just not in the form he expects. He doesn't expect the flashes to keep happening, and in a form that they never have before. The dreams keep going, and sometimes he's back in a long hallway lit with golden light but there's a different child there. Sometimes there's snow but there's no Snowdin. There's his brother but he's smaller and a sister but she's different and Frisk but they're...

He offers to walk Frisk home from school one day. Toriel is surprised, but he knows she wants to encourage the gradual increase in activity he's been displaying. Papyrus is proud, but everyone is confused. Sans can't quite explain it either. It's like he just...got used to being up and about, without remembering what led him to that point.

Frisk is a strange kid, but a good one. He knows that in his bones.

Maybe they can help him out.

[dustless]

No more RESETS.

They swore to another Sans that they'd say that, promise that, but they can't. They won't, they know they won't, but just letting the words out feels like accepting that they've gone 'home', and this isn't it anymore. They can't, they won't. They're too determined not to.

Castle time meant they got used to alternates, at least. It only sort of hurts when they watch this Sans do stuff. Nobody minds that they're quiet, either, 'cause they were always like that underground until the very end, and nobody but that stupid flower remembers that anyway.

No objections when Sans shows up. They just smile, something tiny, and fall into standing by his side. "Journey back to the house."

Toriel lives about three blocks away. They could run there in less than a minute. It's not a journey, but maybe it's still funny.

[sansational]

"journey back to the house." He bobs his head in agreement, and smiles just a bit more than his usual default sleepy smile. It's a little bit funny. Then again, Sans - any Sans - has always had an easy sense of humor.

He falls into step beside them. And on the way home, he asks them easy questions, small-talk questions. How's school going, are you making any friends, how bad's the homework. But just as they're arriving at Toriel's neat little house, just as they're about to say good bye, Sans finally musters up the nerve to ask a question that's really been on his mind for a while.

"you sleeping okay, kid?"

[dustless]

Easy answers, things they don't need to put heavy effort into thinking up answers for, or need to glance at him to gauge a reaction for their replies. School's nice; all monsters are their friends, really; homework's no fun but Toriel's good at teaching.

The sudden real question stops them before they can step through the gate of their nice little picket-fence.

Sans-es are always observational. Frisk glances at him and shrugs. "...Not everybody likes naps as much as you do," they say dryly.

[sansational]

Sans shrugs right back. "that's because everybody else is kinda silly." He tilts his head slightly to regard them for a moment longer. "but y'know, uh...if you ever needed help with, like, naps...you can ask me about it. i'm still pretty good at 'em. even when my soul, uh, doesn't really want to be quiet."

A tacit, roundabout sort of admission. He hasn't been sleeping that great either. Even the naps are more of a stopgap than anything else.

"think about it, why don't ya. toriel says human kids need their sleep even more than skeletons do."