Chapter Text
"You there?" Toriel called through the Ruins door.
"Well, well. If it isn't Toriel," the voice drawled, casual and warm through the Ruins door, as if the speaker were used to speaking with her regularly. "I was starting to wonder if you were avoiding me."
Toriel’s voice responded softly but with an unmistakable affection. "You know I would never avoid you, Sans. I… need to ask for your help," Toriel said, her voice quieter now, a little more solemn. "A human has fallen into the Underground. They are lost, and I don’t know how to help them alone."
There was a pause from Sans, and I could almost picture his lopsided grin. "A human, huh?" His tone shifted, just slightly, and it became more guarded. "You know I don’t exactly have the best history with humans. I’ve dealt with enough of ‘em to last a lifetime." His voice dropped lower, almost to a murmur. "Humans who caused so much trouble… violence… chaos…"
Toriel's voice was gentle, but she didn’t back down. "I know, Sans. I know what you've been through. But this one… I believe they are different. They need help, and I can’t do this alone."
Another long silence stretched between them, and I could hear Sans shifting his weight, the sound of his footsteps quiet as if he was debating something. "Tori," he began, his voice lower now, tinged with a frustration that barely masked the pain. "You know I can’t forget what happened before. The resets, the cycles… every time it was like starting over, but always with more violence, more blood." There was a faint bitterness in his voice, but beneath it, something almost sorrowful. "I’ve seen enough of that, you know?"
Toriel’s voice softened further, filled with compassion. "Sans, I understand the weight of those memories, more than you may realize. But this is not the same. I’m asking for your help because I believe this human has the potential to change things. They don’t deserve to be lost, like all the others."
Sans was silent for a long moment, and I could almost feel the weight of the decision he was considering. His tone, when he spoke again, was laced with a hesitant resolve. "I get it, Tori," he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with resignation. "You know I can’t just walk away when you ask for help. But you’re asking a lot, you know that?"
Toriel nodded, though I couldn’t see her, I could feel the steady determination in her response. "I know. But I believe in you, Sans. I know you can make a difference."
There was another long pause, and then Sans’s voice softened, though still wary. "Alright, alright. I’ll do what I can. But don’t expect me to trust this human completely right away, okay? I’ve got my reasons. The violence we’ve dealt with before… I can’t just forget that. I'll come back tomorrow and retrieve the Human and sort this all out for them."
Toriel’s voice was warm and understanding. "I trust you, Sans. You do what you can, and I’ll be here to support you. Thank you."
As Sans’s footsteps began to fade, Toriel made her way back upstairs.
She had taken care of everything with Sans, and now, she was ready to return to the guest in her home. As she walked into the room, her eyes softened at the sight before her. There, curled up on the recliner she had left ,me on, peacefully asleep.
I had curled up tightly, the exhaustion of everything weighing on me, no doubt, leaving me unaware of the passing time. My head rested against the plush cushion, my body tucked in almost protectively, as if sleep were my only escape from the world. Toriel's heart swelled with a mixture of sympathy and tenderness, knowing how much pain I must had been carrying with me.
The blanket she had left nearby was now draped across my body, likely a gesture of comfort that I hadn’t been aware of. My breathing was steady and quiet.
Toriel lingered for a moment, standing just inside the doorway, watching over me. The silent weight of my journey had clearly taken its toll on me. But there was a soft peace here, in her home, in this moment. She had always been the one to care for others, but seeing me like this—vulnerable, yet trusting enough to rest—made something stir within her.
The soft warmth of the morning light filtered through the curtains, gradually coaxing me from my sleep. It wasn’t the light itself that roused me, but the murmured voices drifting in from somewhere nearby, low and familiar. I blinked, still groggy, the remnants of sleep clinging to my mind. It took a moment for my senses to clear, and when they did, the voices became clearer. Toriel was talking with someone in her kitchen.
"Toriel, I’m just saying, if they’re gonna be safer anywhere, it’s gonna be in Snowdin." Said someone with a laid-back, easy drawl. I could hear the sound of something clinking—dishes, maybe—as he spoke again, sounding a little more serious this time. "The monsters there won’t cause any trouble. You know I’ve got people who can keep an eye on ‘em."
Toriel’s voice followed, gentle but firm. "I’m not so sure, Sans. They’re a human… and they’ve been through so much already. I don’t want them to feel alone." Her words softened. "But if you believe Snowdin is the best place for them to stay, then I’ll trust you."
I could hear Sans sigh, a sound of quiet frustration mixed with a hint of weariness. "Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly easy for anyone, especially with… the past we’ve both got. But we’ve gotta think about what’s best for ‘em." There was a short pause before he continued, a little more lighthearted, though I could tell he was trying to mask some of his concern. "Besides, I know how to keep ‘em safe. It’s not like I’m gonna just dump ‘em off and hope for the best."
Toriel’s tone softened again, the warmth in her voice undeniable. "I know you care, Sans. I do trust you, but… I still want to make sure they’re not alone." She was quiet for a beat, and then added, almost as an afterthought, "Do you think Snowdin’s really the safest option, though? It's so cold there-"
"Look, I’ve been around," Sans replied with a small chuckle. "I’m not gonna drag ‘em into a place where they’ll be in danger of freezing. It’ll give me time to figure things out."
The mention of Snowdin stirred something in my chest—a flicker of recognition mixed with a strange, heavy sense of unease. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Toriel’s kindness, but the mention of leaving her warmth for somewhere else, somewhere new, made me hesitant. I hadn’t even fully adjusted to my new reality, and now there was talk of sending me off again.
The voices faded a bit as Toriel moved, and for a moment, I thought they might be done talking. But then I heard Toriel speak again, quieter this time, as if she were trying to make her point. "I’m still not sure… but if they’re going to go, I’ll need to help them prepare. I'll dress them a bit warmer."
I slowly stirred, the weight of their conversation sinking in as I pushed myself up on the recliner, blinking the sleep away. Though I was tired, the thought of moving again—of being taken somewhere else—felt overwhelming. The calmness of Toriel’s home had been a fragile comfort, and the idea of leaving felt like another loss in a life that had already seen far too much.
I had just finished adjusting to sitting up on the recliner when the sound of footsteps approached. Before I could fully turn, the door to the living room swung open, and there stood Sans, his ever-present grin on his face and a certain glint of mischief in his eye. He was a skeleton Monster.
"Hey, kid," he greeted me with his usual laid-back tone. "Name’s Sans. Guess we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, huh?"
I gave him a nod, still feeling groggy from sleep and the conversations I had overheard earlier. But before I could respond, Sans stepped forward, extending a bony hand toward me. "Nice to meet ya. Figured I’d introduce myself properly."
But as I reached out to shake his hand, I caught the movement of his other hand, where a suspiciously flat object was tucked in his palm. My eyes widened just in time to hear the unmistakable sound of a farting noise.
Pffft!
I jumped back, heart racing for a second, startled by the unexpected sound. Sans stood there, practically doubling over with laughter, holding a whoopee cushion in his bony hand like it was the most brilliant prank he’d ever pulled.
"Gotcha," he said through his chuckles, his grin spreading wider. "Heh. Don't worry, though, I only pull this stunt on the really 'special' guests."
I stared at him, blinking in confusion before a reluctant chuckle escaped my lips. Even in a moment of surprise, I couldn’t help but appreciate his sense of humor. Though it was hard to deny how absurd the whole thing was.
"Y-yeah, real funny," I muttered, shaking my head but feeling a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth.
Sans gave me a playful wink, clearly pleased with himself. "You’d be surprised how many times this trick still gets 'em." He shrugged and added casually, "Anyway, don't let me keep ya. I’m here to make sure you get to Snowdin in one piece. You ready to go?"
"Sans, please wait a moment," she said kindly, before turning her attention back to me. "I want to make sure you’re dressed warmly enough before you head to Snowdin. The cold there can be quite harsh, especially for someone unused to it."
Sans gave her a lazy salute, clearly in no rush to leave, as he leaned casually against the doorframe. "Sure thing, Tori. I’ll just hang out here and let you work your magic."
Toriel smiled warmly, then motioned for me to stand up. I shifted on the recliner, still unsure of what was going on, but trusting her intentions. Toriel quickly moved to a nearby closet and pulled out a large, knitted sweater, green and yellow—thick and soft-looking. She laid it out on the chair for me, her movements purposeful but gentle.
"You’ll need this sweater," she explained as she carefully pulled it over my head. The soft wool brushed against my skin, instantly comforting as it draped over me. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it was warm and snug, a far cry from the chill that had been in the air.
Next, she reached for a scarf—a thick, knitted one, in a soft shade of yellow that matched the sweater. She wrapped it around my neck carefully, tucking it in to ensure it was snug enough to keep the cold out.
Then, Toriel reached into a drawer and pulled out something I hadn’t expected. She held it out to me with a small chuckle. "I thought this might be fun," she said, her tone light.
In her hands was a winter hat—soft, knitted, and with a pair of fake horns protruding from either side. The horns were oversized and clearly meant to be playful, but I couldn’t deny how adorable the whole thing looked. Toriel gently placed it on my head, adjusting it so the fake horns sat evenly.
"There, now you’ll be much warmer," she said with a satisfied smile. "And these horns will surely make you stand out less in Snowdin. A little bit of fun, just to keep your spirits up."
I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, but at the same time, I appreciated the gesture. The hat was silly, yes, but it was warm, and it brought a small sense of comfort in the midst of everything.
Sans, who had been watching the whole scene with mild amusement, couldn’t help but comment, "Well, I gotta admit, you’re gonna turn some heads with that thing, kid." His grin was wide, and there was no denying the playful twinkle in his eye.
Toriel’s soft laugh filled the room, and she patted me gently on the back. "There. Now you’re all set to go. I know it may be a little... strange, but it will help keep you warm."
I nodded, feeling both ridiculous and strangely comforted by the care they’d shown. The cold of Snowdin seemed a little less daunting now, with the warmth of the sweater, scarf, and the silly hat giving me a bit of protection.
"Thank you, Toriel," I said quietly, my voice still sleepy but grateful for her kindness.
"Of course," she replied, her smile soft and understanding. "Now, go ahead and join Sans. I’m sure he’s eager to get you to Snowdin."
Sans straightened up from the doorframe, his usual laid-back grin back in place. "Alright, alright. Let’s get this snow-show on the road," he said with a wink.
Toriel led us to the Ruins Exit door, her steps slow but deliberate as she made sure I was bundled up and ready for the journey ahead. Sans stood by, waiting with his usual lazy demeanor, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets as he looked toward the door, then back to me. I adjusted the ridiculous winter hat Toriel had given me, the fake horns bouncing with each movement. There was a strange sense of anticipation rising in my chest as I followed Sans out the door, leaving the homely feeling of Toriel's home behind. The moment we stepped through the door, the change was immediate.
The warmth from the Ruins quickly dissipated, and I shivered as a gust of icy wind blew across my face. The forest before me was vast and overwhelmingly snowy. Snow covered everything, thick layers of it blanketing the ground and the twisted, gnarled trees that stretched up toward the sky. It felt like stepping into a completely different world.
Snowdin Forest was massive, stretching out in every direction, trees heavy with snow creating an almost eerie canopy. The air was crisp, sharp, and cold enough to sting at the skin, but I was glad for the warmth of the sweater and scarf Toriel had given me, even if the hat felt a little silly.
"Welcome to Snowdin Forest," Sans said, his voice casual but carrying a hint of familiarity. "It’s not much to look at, but it’ll get ya where you need to go."
The quiet of the forest was thick, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath our feet and the occasional whisper of wind that howled through the trees. Everything was coated in snow, from the low-lying bushes to the skeletal trees towering above us. I couldn’t help but stare at the massive forest around us, the white landscape seemingly endless. The ground beneath my feet crunched with each step, the snow thick and powdery, soft but layered with ice beneath. It was a world of muted colors—shades of white and gray, the snow like a blanket that covered everything, turning the forest into a serene but inhospitable place, at least for Humans. The trees in Snowdin were tall, their trunks thick and dark with age, rising high into the sky. Their branches were heavy with snow, drooping under the weight, creating natural archways of frozen limbs that twisted and creaked in the wind. Some trees had crooked, gnarled shapes, their limbs resembling skeletal hands, as if they were reaching out to each other in the quiet silence of the forest. Others stood tall and proud, their pine needles dusted with powdery snow that clung to the edges like delicate lace. The forest floor was dotted with small, snow-covered bushes and rocks that jutted out at odd angles. The snow was so deep in some places it nearly reached my knees, making each step a small effort. Sans found this particularly amusing while we walked along.
Snowflakes fell lazily from the sky, swirling gently in the wind before they melted or settled in the blanket of snow. It wasn’t the kind of snow that felt wet or heavy, but rather, it was the soft kind, the kind that glistened under the pale lamp lights that were far and few inbetween. Somewhere far off, I could hear the faint call of birds, but their presence was a rare one, their songs distant and fleeting. In this forest, the animals seemed sparse, as if the land itself had grown too cold for much to survive.
As Sans and I walked deeper into Snowdin, the forest slowly began to thin out, revealing the small town nestled among the snow-covered trees. The first thing I noticed was a large, wooden sign that stood at the edge of town, its surface worn with age but decorated in the most cheerful way.
“Welcome to Snowdin” it read in bold, colorful letters, and it was adorned with strings of Christmas lights that blinked lazily in the cold, casting soft glows of red, green, and blue against the surrounding white. There was something festive about the sign, a stark contrast to the cold, still forest I had just walked through. The bright lights brought a touch of warmth to the otherwise quiet, frosty air, like the town was trying its best to push back the winter’s chill with cheeriness. Snowdin had a charming, rustic vibe to it—small, wooden buildings dotted the landscape, each one framed with thick layers of snow, their windows glowing with a soft, welcoming light. The streets were covered in snow, but they were clearly well-traveled, with footprints leading in every direction. Everything about the town felt cozy, a stark contrast to the isolation of the forest, and the snow made it feel like something straight out of a human holiday postcard. In the center of town stood a massive Christmas-like tree, its evergreen branches weighed down by snow and decorated with what seemed like a mix of ornaments, sparkling lights, and colorful ribbons. It towered over the town square, its presence dominating the space, and I could see several monster kids running around the base of the tree, their small hands carrying presents, piling them up beneath the branches. There was something heartwarming about the kids' excitement, the way they rushed to put their gifts under the tree, eager and full of joy.
Sans gave a lazy wave toward the tree. "C’mon, let’s keep movin’. We got a little ways to go still, and I’m sure you’re eager to see where you’ll be stayin’."
I nodded again, taking one last look at the tree and the monster kids laughing under its branches.
Sans shifted his hands back into his hoodie pockets and glanced over at me with his usual lazy grin. The cold air made his breath visible, curling in small puffs before disappearing into the frosty atmosphere.
"You'll probably meet my brother soon enough," he said casually, his voice carrying the familiar nonchalance. "His name’s Papyrus."
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Papyrus?"
Sans gave a small chuckle at my confusion. "Yeah, weird name, I know. But that’s just how he is. He’s younger than me, but a lot taller... and, uh, a bit... enthusiastic about certain things."
I couldn’t help but be curious by this strange brother of his. "What kind of things?"
"Well," Sans began, drawing out the word, his grin widening. "Papyrus is... what you might call a human-hunting fanatic."
I blinked in surprise. "Human-hunting?" I felt fear trickle up my spine. "But you’re... helping me. You’re not like that, are you?"
Sans waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, nah, not me. I’m not into the whole huntin’ thing. But Papyrus, man... he gets these crazy ideas about humans. Thinks that he’s gotta catch 'em all, like some sort of monster protector or something." He chuckled, a dry but amused sound. "He’s harmless, though. Mostly. Just a bit... overzealous."
"Harmless?" I repeated, still a little skeptical, "How can someone be a fanatic about something like that and still be harmless?"
"Well, Papyrus doesn’t exactly have a clue about the whole dangerous part of things," Sans explained with a shrug. "He just wants to prove himself. He thinks humans are super important, and he wants to, y'know, be a big shot in the monster world. So he gets it in his head that he should capture one—you—and make a big deal out of it." He gave a little snicker. "But he doesn’t even know how to capture anyone properly. Half the time, he’s too busy setting up ridiculous traps that no one could possibly fall for."
I found myself smirking despite the absurdity of it all. "So he’s not actually dangerous?"
"Not in the slightest," Sans said, the grin never leaving his face. "Papyrus means well. He’s just... a little extra when it comes to things he’s passionate about. But don’t worry—if you do happen to meet him, you’ll see what I mean. He’s more likely to try and be your friend than actually pose any threat."
That was oddly reassuring, given everything that had happened. I could only imagine what it would be like to meet someone like Papyrus, all wide-eyed and full of enthusiasm, chasing after something as bizarre as hunting humans.
I looked back at Sans, still processing the strange, new world around me. "Thanks," I said quietly. "For helping me, and... for looking out for me, even with your brother being, uh, enthusiastic."
Sans just shrugged again, his grin softening just a little. "Eh, it’s nothing. Besides, what’s a little family weirdness between friends?"
After a short walk through the snowy streets of Snowdin, Sans led me to a two-story house nestled on the edge of town, its cozy exterior standing out against the whiteness of the surrounding landscape. The house was simple, but charming in its own way.
What really caught my eye, though, were the Christmas lights. Everywhere I looked, there were strings of colorful lights draped over the house, twinkling in the cold night air. The lights hung from the eaves of the roof, outlining the edges of windows and doors in festive reds, greens, and blues. There were little clusters of lights that wrapped around the porch posts and a few that dangled from the trees in the yard, creating a soft, cheerful glow in the otherwise cold night. The sight was almost surreal in its brightness, a stark contrast to the darkened snow-covered world around it. It reminded me of a holiday postcard, or maybe one of those fairy tale homes you'd read about as a child—charming.
"Well, here we are," Sans said with a lazy wave toward the house, his voice breaking through the quiet night. He stepped up to the front door, giving it a light push to open it. "Home sweet home."
Sans shot me a quick glance as he walked inside. "Come on in. Make yourself at home. Just don’t mind the shenanigans that’ll probably come up in the next few minutes."
I nodded, stepping over the threshold and into the warmth of the house. The door closed softly behind me with a click.