It had been less than an hour since the revelation of multiverses and magic explosions. The atmosphere had settled into a comfortable lull, not one person willing to retire for the night. Everyone was chilling in the main room, a re-run of Mettaton’s show playing on the tv screen. Eyes kept flicking towards you as the overly-dramatic robot acted out a romantic subplot with himself. Ash had handed you off to Wine. He had been reluctant about it, but the big, burly skeleton monster had also been aware that he was not the only one desperate to keep you safe. The sharp, no-nonsense captain of the guard (in his world) had you tucked securely against his side in his high-backed armchair.
The scent of paper and lilacs eased your soul into a comfortable rhythm, the sound of a page turning a strange comfort. Your good eye had re-read the same line over and over again in the book Wine held in one hand. His other rested against your hip to keep you in place.
“Rest, Pet,” he murmured into your hair. “We Will Figure This Out.”
Before you could drift into a restless sleep, the front door exploded open, slamming into the opposite wall as it was blown off its hinges. It rattled your packmates like a shot from a cannon. Most bolted to their feet, the Judges’ eye sockets crackling with power. Wine, too, tightened his grip on you, dropping his novel without a care. A sharp bone, wreathed in maroon magic, hovered in the space between you and whatever intruder had dared to enter their home. That was, until they noticed who stood in the ruined threshold.
Undyne. Her chest was heaving and her red hair was plastered against the blue scales of her skin. It looked like she had run all the way from the lab. In her arms, looking just as breathless but more due to anxiety than exertion, was Alphys.
“WE KNOW WHAT IT IS!” the fish monster announced, her voice cracking from the intensity. She marched into the home, ignoring the gaping hole she’d left in her wake in favor of setting her girlfriend down. The lizard monster scrambled to her feet, lab coat hanging off one shoulder, glasses askew, and looking so very, very startled. It would have been amusing if the situation wasn’t so dire.
“what the hell—?!” Red started, but the couple ignored him.
“It’s Y/N!”
The room snapped to attention in an instant. Even Sans, who had been feigning sleep, straightened in his chair, eyelights dim but aware. Alphys adjusted her glasses, claws trembling. She looked terrified, her eyes darting to where you sat still curled in Wine’s lap, then away, as if the sight hurt her to see.
“I-I ran the simulations,” she stammered, shuffling in place. “T-The data from the scan. It didn’t m-make sense at first because human souls aren’t s-supposed to hold monster magic. They’re incompatible. Usually.”
“SPIT IT OUT, DOCTOR,” Edge ordered, his arms clenched so tight against his ribcage that the bones creaked. S/N stood beside him, one hand clinging to his forearm while the other was balled into a fist.
Alphys swallowed hard. “It’s…it’s a ricochet.”
“…what?” Sans asked, his eyelights snuffing out.
“A r-ricochet,” she repeated, her voice gaining a little more strength as she dove into the science of it. “Y/N’s soul. It’s cracked. We-we knew that, but it’s not just cracked. It’s pressurized.” They all watched as the lizard monster dug into the inner pocket of her lab coat. She held up a crinkled diagram a moment later. It showed a human soul—a heart—but inside it, jagged lines of blue and yellow crayon were bouncing against the walls.
“T-this energy,” Al pointed to the blue lines. “It’s Judgment magic. High-density, karmic retribution magic. It’s-it’s Sans’s…” She flinched even as she said it, but it was necessary.
You looked over at the hoodie-clad skeleton. He hadn’t moved, but the air around him seemed to drop by several degrees.
“It’s the bond!” she hurried to explain, scared that she was about to be dusted by one of the powerful skeletons now glaring at her. “The soulbond. Your magic reacted when Y/N was in trouble and formed a partial tether. B-but now, without completing that connection, your magic is trapped inside their soul. It’s-it’s—“
“it’s cracking it further,” Red whispered, the dots connecting. His cigarette fell from his teeth to the carpet, but he ignored it. “it’s like shaking a soda can and welding it shut! the magic has nowhere to go! it’s eating them alive.” He rubbed a palm over his skull in stress, bone scraping bone.
Ash let out a sound of pure distress. He had come up to the side of the armchair during the conversation, his palms now cradling one of your hands and acting as an anchor in this storm. “so…what? we just…watch them break?”
“N-No!” the scientist squeaked. “No, we have to-we have to get the magic out. Or-or stabilize it.”
“HOW?” Wine demanded, still seated, still holding you. He looked down at your frail frame, at the eyepatch over your damaged eye, at the way you still trembled from the soul attack earlier this evening. His expression softened. “HUMANS SOULS ARE RESILIENT, BUT THEY ARE NOT INDESTRUCTIBLE. THEY ARE…THEY ARE ALREADY FRAGILE RIGHT NOW. THEIR RESISTANCE IS LOW.”
“There are two options,” she breathed, steeling herself for what she was about to say next.
“SPIT IT OUT ALREADY!” Edge snarled again, stance fully in the defensive. Impatience was etched into every line of his skull while his eyelights flicked down to his own soulmate—your sibling—where they clung to him for comfort.
“Option one,” she began, “we try to surgically extract the magic. It-it would be excruciating and it might shatter their soul b-because the magic is so entangled with their own determination.”
“And Option Two?” Blue asked, voice shaking with fear. Not for himself, but for his soulmate.
“Option two…is to complete the bond,” she admitted in a whisper, staring at the floor, unable to look any of them in the eye.
The room erupted into a cacophony of noise.
“ARE YOU INSANE?” Blue shrieked, stepping forward. Whatever chivalrous naivety he’d typically hide behind evaporated in an instant. “THEY ARE BARELY HEALED! YOU SAID A FULL BOND COULD CRUSH THEM!”
“It would give the magic an outlet!” Alphys argued back, shrinking behind Undyne. “It would open the channel! The magic wouldn’t be trapped anymore! It would flow like a circuit and stop the pressure!” She was trembling, her tail curling around her ankles, clearly distressed.
Your pulse hammered in your chest, blood roaring in your ears. Neither option sounded ideal. One could end with you dusting, the other…honestly? It could also end up with you dead. Dead or bonded to a monster who may not want to commit. You were no fool. You knew how sacred soul-bonding was to monster society. It wasn’t the same thing as human marriages. This was everything. There was no hiding, no secrets, and no way to undo it…
Red’s voice came in low and dark, a velvet growl that voiced your thoughts aloud. “so, you’re saying the only real choice is to risk something we barely understand or fully commit right now?” The crimson of his eyes seemed to sizzle in their sockets at Al’s helpless nod.
Throughout the rising chaos, Sans remained silent. He had withdrawn deep into his own thoughts, not a flicker of that familiar white appearing in his sockets. He was trembling. It was subtle, but you could see the rattling of his bones against the cushions. You watched him, anxiety clawing at your insides. He always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He always took all the responsibility for himself. And now, here was Alphys, telling him that he was the reason that you were slowly dying. That it was his magic chipping away at the soul most precious to him. He didn’t care that it was because you needed it. He didn’t think of all the times he had comforted you. Of how possessive he was of you. Of how he’d wanted to pluck Alice’s eyes from her head for looking at you wrong. Of how those men at the bar nearly had their insides on their outsides.
“i did this…” The words slipped from his teeth. Cold and hollow. Void of humor. Void of hope.
Papyrus heard it, whipping around to reach out. “BROTHER! YOU DIDN’T KNOW—“
The air shimmered with a flash of blue magic. The brief smell of ozone filled the immediate area, and then Sans was gone. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Then Wine swore—a sharp, biting curse in a language you didn’t recognize.
“RED, EDGE,” he barked, taking command instantly. “FIND HIM. DO NOT LET HIM DO ANYTHING STUPID.”
“on it,” Red growled, grabbing his brother’s arm. In a flash of red, they vanished from the room.
The atmosphere in the skeletons’ living room was thick with tension, even long after the group returned from the lab. The rest of the household had been filled in on the situation within the past hour.
Sans sat in his usual chair, elbows propped on his knees, fingers threaded together, and chin on his knuckles. His eyelights shifted from one unhappy face to the next. The Fells were impatient, tempers restrained behind their narrowed sockets. They knew best what kind of damage keeping secrets could do. The softer skeletons—Blue, Paps, and Stretch—were more concerned, ready to comfort instead of lecture. Ash and Poplar, meanwhile, remained torn. They’d had it the hardest, but they also knew how fragile the siblings were right now. Coddling wouldn’t break old habits, but neither would tough love. You were curled in Ash’s lap, no longer asleep but still exhausted. The “soul attack” had taken its toll, leaving you feeling like little more than a wet noodle. One hand gripped tight to Ash’s sleeve. He was a lifeline that you desperately needed. His presence was a balm over your raw nerves, mentally preparing you for the inevitable tongue-lashing you were about to get…
“I don’t remember much,” S/N spoke in a small voice from where they were pressed against your side. They had their knees pulled into their chest, trying to make themselves smaller under the intense stares coming from every direction. “It was dark. We were walking home. Those guys… They came out of the alley. They called us…they called us names—“
“traitor,” Red supplied, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. “saw it in the police report.”
“We Already Pieced Most Of It Together,” Wine added. He stood just in front of the couch, unwilling to wander far from his injured soulmate. “But We Want To Hear It Directly From You Two.” His sockets narrowed, softening only slightly when he caught your flinch. S/N swallowed again, squeezing the hand that Stretch had settled over their thigh.
“I remember a hand on my shoulder. Someone yanking me back. Y/N standing between me and them… And then—then—“
“then they got their asses handed to them,” Red finished for them, tone dry but a flash of pride lighting up their sockets briefly. A puff of cherry-flavored smoke curled from his teeth. Normally, Edge would kick him outside for the dirty habit, but they all needed a stress relief right now. Even his hard-ass of a brother wouldn’t deny him of that.
S/N nodded, eyes wide in remembered terror. “Yeah… Something happened. I don’t remember, but Y/N was hurt, and suddenly, we were safe.”
This was the point where Sans finally spoke up. His eyelights flickered in his sockets, his magic surging in sync with his emotions. They didn’t vanish or turn into that flame of yellow and blue that you faintly remembered from the street, but they came close. “al told me that y/n nearly dusted them.”
His words hit hard, causing the tension in the room to double. You flinched. S/N snapped their head toward you. “You—?”
“THEY GAINED LV,” Edge cut in before any accusations could fly. “LEVEL OF VIOLENCE.” His tone wasn’t accusatory. He was merely stating a cold, hard fact. S/N, despite their confusion and shock, took it as an attack. They stepped in to defend you without a second thought.
“They were protecting me!” their voice cracked. “They just—they just snapped! They just wanted to keep me safe!”
Sans exhaled heavily. He hadn’t meant for that to sound so accusatory. Rubbing the bridge of his nasal bone, he tried to correct his mistake. “i know—“
“WE KNOW. WE CHECKED,” Wine growled, patience running low. The situation was escalating to a level he didn’t like. And with the way his “softer version” was explaining things, it would only grow worse. The Fells decided to take the reins of the conversation before that happened.
“YOU THOUGHT WE WOULDN’T RUN A BACKGROUND CHECK?” Edge scoffed. The warm glow of the room’s lamps fell over the twin gouges around his left eye when he jerked his chin into the air with an arrogant flair. “EXTREME VIOLENCE. UNSTABLE FAMILY HISTORY. WE WATCHED YOU CLOSELY IN CASE YOU WERE DANGEROUS.”
Coffee shrugged from his spot on the floor in front of the couch. “saw the reports. knew exactly how far it went, but also knew why you did it.” He shot you a crooked grin. He’d seen the way you and S/N had shrunk in on yourselves at the news and wanted to offer comfort.
“YOU RAN BACKGROUND CHECKS ON THEM?!” Blue shouted before they could go explain their actions further. He spun around to face the Fells, surprise clear on his skull and the dire situation momentarily forgotten in favor of this new development.
Wine didn’t even flinch. “YES.”
“WE DID WHAT WAS NECESSARY,” Edge insisted, defending their actions. His gaze flicked to the couch, to the spot where you sat propped against Ash’s chest. “IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG TO FIGURE IT OUT. THEY ARE NOT A KILLER. THEY WERE SIMPLY PROTECTING FAMILY.”
Sans rolled his eyes, but the tightness of his grin lessened. Of course, the edgier skeletons had done their homework regarding their neighbors. The state of their Undergrounds had prepared them for the worst. They couldn’t risk their family being targeted by someone who could have been a threat.
Red leaned over the back of the sofa, magic cigarette in one hand while the other tapped restlessly against the coarse fabric. His eyelights flickered in their sockets. He wasn’t smiling. Enough was enough. They needed to get to the meat of the matter. “so…you awake enough to explain why you didn’t tell us you were dyin’?.”
Guilt, hot and prickly, washed over you. You buried your face deeper into Ash’s flannel sleeve, a slight tremble in your shoulders. Handing off the reins to someone else was not something you knew how to do. “Sharing the burden”, “dividing the load”. Those were the things that you grew up being told were falsehoods. Lies. You had to carry your own weight. Pull yourself up by the bootstraps. You had to smile and pretend that you weren’t drowning—
“DO NOT COWER,” Wine snapped. He looked furious, the hold on his temper faltering in the face of almost losing someone he cared a great deal about. “DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH, PET?” he demanded. He wasn’t yelling, but his voice had returned to its normal, boisterous volume. He was in full “lecture mode”. “ALPHYS SAID YOUR SOUL WAS FRACTURING. AND YET YOU SMILED. YOU BAKED COOKIES. YOU WENT HIKING!” He leaned down, his skull inches from your face. His fingers—freed at some point from their leather gloves—gripped your chin to force you to look him in the eye. The warm roughness of the bone against your skin was lost on you as tears blurred what was left of your vision.
“If You Had Dusted,” he hissed, his voice dropping into a terrified register. “I Would Have Chased Down Your Ghost And Killed You Myself.”
“wine,” Sans warned from the chair, voice turning sharp.
“NO!” Wine straightened, throwing his hands in the air. “IT IS STUPID! WE ARE MONSTERS! WE DEAL IN SOULS! IF YOU HURT, YOU TELL US! THAT IS THE PACT!” His words hit harder because they carried the weight of someone who had watched people die for smaller mistakes.
Shame curled tight in your chest. You knew Wine would never hurt you. He was simply scared. Scared of what was happening to your soul. Scared of the knowledge he lacked, of the secrets you had kept. Scared of losing you… Your gaze dropped to your lap. Midnight was there, purring against your stomach like a tiny engine. Had you died, what would become of the little guy? Would S/N have been able to handle your absence? And the skeletons… What happened to a monster…who lost their soulmate?
“I’m sorry,” you signed, your fingers trembling as they formed the signs. “I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought… I thought that if I ignored it, it would go away.”
“pain don’t work like that, sweetheart,” Red sighed, the anger bleeding out of him, leaving only exhaustion behind. “ignoring a crack in the foundation just brings the house down.”
“WE WERE TERRIFIED,” Blue hiccuped from where he sat on the floor. He looked miserable. “WHEN SANS CALLED… I THOUGHT WE HAD LOST YOU.”
You looked at them. All of them. They weren’t angry because you were broken, or that you had kept the truth from them. They were angry because they loved you, and you had almost slipped through their fingers. Ash squeezed your shoulder, pulling you back against his chest.
“you should’ve told us you were hurtin’.” His voice stayed gentle, but there was steel beneath it. He caught your wrist before you could spiral into another apology whirlwind. His thumb brushed your knuckles, soothing your anxiety. “you made a bad call. and you’re gonna do better. that’s all.”
You nodded, the tightness in your throat slowly dissipating. Wine’s expression stayed stern, but he audibly exhaled through his nasal cavity. It was the closest he would get to relenting. “GOOD.” Everyone seemed to breathe a little easier now, shoulders sagging in relief.
You swallowed, gathering the courage now that everyone was in the same room and you, literally, survived a near-death experience. “I heard you talking in the car.” Every skeleton stiffened in response. Well, every skeleton except three… Mutt and Stretch shared a look, twin grins plastered on their skulls. They were the closest to S/N, so you weren’t surprised that they had pegged what subject you were bringing up. Ash, too, remained relaxed, running his fingers through your hair. He had known you were awake during that heavy conversation and had kept his mouth shut. He’d wanted you to know.
“Soulmates?” Your fingers didn’t fumble. You made sure of that. You wanted to have an honest, straightforward conversation. Your good eye moved around the room, settling on the ones who’d declared themselves your soulmates. Again, the similarities among them were eerie. It was like standing in a funhouse, but instead of mirrors making them look short, tall, round, or stick thin, they all looked like the same skeleton…
Like Sans.
Blue’s posture stiffened. Red’s eyelights flicked hard to Sans. Wine’s jaw clenched. Papyrus looked like he wanted to cheer, as if he was watching his favorite soap opera playing live right out in front of him. Stretch made a sound that might’ve been a forced cough to cover a laugh. Your cheeks burned, but you started signing again, emboldened.
“There’s something else.” You pointedly looked at Coffee and Stretch, who were struggling to hold in their snickers. It had been eating at you even before that fateful car ride down the mountain. “Does the multiple soulmates have anything to do with the multiverse thing?”
Sans stared, the others shifted in place, no one moved. “you know…about the multiverse?” he finally breathed after a long tense moment.
You bit your lip. You didn’t want to seem stupid, asking dumb questions about something that was ripped straight from a sci-fi novel. Then again, an entire civilization of monsters (who could use magic) had popped out from underneath a mountain just a couple of years ago. Led by a child, no less.
“It’s obvious,” you signed, encouraged after noting that Sans wasn’t laughing. “Same faces, different circumstances, and slight personality shifts. It’s either multiverse or everyone has a twin…” It hadn’t just been the skeletons; other monsters had shared eerie resemblances with each other. Grillby and Grim. Moppet and Muffet. And that was just to name a few. There were slips of the tongue, too. Moppet calling Wine “Captain” when you knew that title belonged to Undyne. Multiple Judges—Sans, Stretch, Coffee, Ash, Red—despite the fact that that power was rare among the monsters.
Ash chuckled, warm and proud. A corner of Wine’s lips lifted, a crack in his otherwise stern front. Red took a long draw from his cigarette.
“S-SO WE REALLY DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE WEIRDEST PART NOW?” Blue laughed while rubbing the back of his skull. He looked both nervous and relieved. He had decidedly not been looking forward to that conversation.
“they’re your soulmate,” Stretch retorted at his brother, lollipop stick drooping in his teeth. “of course they’re a genius. saves us a powerpoint presentation.” Coffee snickered from the floor beside him.
Edge’s eyelights narrowed, but there was grudging respect in his sockets. “HUMANS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE STUPID,” he muttered, as if the very idea offended him. His gaze flicked to S/N who looked up at him innocently having not heard the slip. He turned his skull away so quickly, he got whiplash, red magic blooming in his cheekbones.
Sans was still staring at you, his own skull dusted with a blue blush. He looked stunned. Completely floored. Then, slowly, his mouth twitched. Not a full grin. Not a joke. Just a simple proud smile slipping onto his teeth before he could hide it.
“Was I not supposed to?” you flushed, embarrassed.
Red chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at you with a heat in his gaze that had nothing to do with anger. “we expected panic, maybe a fainting spell. not casual acceptance, sweetheart.”
With a tilt of your head and a deadpan expression on your face, you signed, “You’re literally walking, talking skeletons. The multiverse isn’t exactly a stretch.”
Sans snorted, finally relaxing. “alright, fair enough.”
And just like that, the room’s earlier tension melted away.
A sharp, acrid taste of antiseptics scraped at the back of your throat as you drifted in and out of consciousness. The soft, steady hum of medical equipment vibrated in your bones. You slowly became aware of cold metal beneath you. Another few minutes, and your brain began to piece together that you were lying on your back. A strong, blue-white light pierced through your eyelid, drawing you back to the waking world, though you hadn’t the strength to open your eye.
Sans had dropped you both right into the heart of Alphys’s workspace. The lab wasn’t sleek and state-of-the-art by any means. It was lived-in. There were tall shelves stuffed with binders, cables, and half-labeled containers; rolling carts with tools and scanners; a corner dominated by monitors. Anime posters peeked out between whiteboards scribbled with both equations and doodles. A stack of instant ramen cups balanced precariously on the edge of a desk that was filled with specimen jars and Bunsen burners.
You lay motionless on a medical cot, your breath shallow but steady. The glare from the lamp overhead turned your skin so pale that it threw your scars into sharp relief. Your hoodie had been discarded to get a proper read on your soul, leaving you only in a tank top and jeans. You were stable now, but only just.
“they almost…slipped,” Sans finally spoke, his voice raw. Unbeknownst to you, the skeletons, your soulmates, stood around your prone form in varying states of agitation. Some paced—Wine and Blue—while others stood rigid in their concern—Red, Sans, and Ash. Sans lingered near the head of the cot, his hands smoothing stray hairs away from your unconscious face. His sockets were empty of the usual white eyelights, even the yellow-blue from before had faded into a memory. Only shadows remained.
Wine was the first to break. His tense voice cut through the quiet of the lab like a blade. “Alphys. Are You Gonna Tell Us What The Hell Is Going On, Or Are You Planning To Just Keep Staring At Your Equipment All Night?” His single eyelight flared, maroon magic crackling at his tips of his phalanges even through the gloves. Although his voice was steady, it was clear to everyone there that the Fell Captain was teetering on the edge of a very dangerous drop.
The yellow lizard monster flinched, adjusting her glasses with a nervous claw. Her tail flicked behind her while her brain sped through every possible way to break the news that wouldn’t leave her as a smoking pile of dust on the floor in her own lab. “Y/N’s soul…it’s in really bad shape…”
“we already figured that much out, al!” Red snapped, impatient. His own magic strained at the bit, red smoke drifting from his sockets, his nose cavity, anywhere it could escape the pressure.
Alphys took a shaky breath, steadying herself against the counter before turning to one particular monitor. Undyne stood nearby, ready to jump in and protect her girlfriend if things got too heated. “Okay. I’m going to—to project it. Don’t—don’t freak out. I mean, you can freak out, just don’t break my stuff.” She hit a command on the keyboard and the air above the table that held you shimmered.
A soul projection bloomed into view—an image made of light and magic. It hovered over your chest, spinning slowly in place. It wasn’t the bright red heart that most people thought of when they heard “human soul”. It didn’t look anything like the souls the Judges had seen in the past. It looked…wrong. It was pale; washed out. It was almost white, like a monster’s soul, but even that didn’t fit cleanly. There were veins of color buried inside that kept trying to flare but sputtered out with every shallow breath.
And it was cracked. Not one hairline fracture. No. Not even a single break mended with time. It was a web of damage. Deep fractures that ran through the core with smaller ones branching off like lightning strikes across glass. Pieces weren’t missing, but some edges looked…loose. One hard hit could shake them free…
Blue’s hands flew up to his mouth, sockets wide with horror. Wine went rigid, leather creaking as his fist tightened even further. Sans let out an involuntary choked sob. Even Red went deathly still, magic snuffing out from the shock. As for Ash…
Ash’s mismatched eyelights died in his sockets. The broken hole in his cranium seemed to pulse in sympathy at the sight of his soulmate’s own wounds. The bite of icy wind and the phantom sensation of flesh ripping beneath his finger bones hit him full in the chest. If you hadn’t chosen that exact moment to roll your head to the side, eyelashes fluttering, he would have surely slipped back into that feral state he had not experienced in years. He immediately went to you.
“It’s—it’s like something forced their soul to carry more than it was ever meant to handle,” the yellow lizard whispered over the tense silence. Her claws trembled in midair, like she wanted to touch the image but couldn’t. “And whatever did it, the damage didn’t stop. It’s still deteriorating.”
“this is…bad,” Sans concluded quietly, his own soul twisting in his ribcage. “this is severe damage….”
Ash ignored him. He ignored them all. Every ounce of his attention was focused on the frail human beneath the hovering projection. He was already unhooking the patches from your skin, careful not to tug to cause you further pain. With whispers of comfort, he gathered you into his strong arms. No one had the heart to stop him. Alphys cleared her throat, fumbling with her glasses.
“When Y/N used magic to protect S/N that night—“
“THEY WHAT?!” Blue choked, accidentally cutting off the scientist.
Sans exhaled sharply through his nasal cavity. He knew he’d forgotten to tell them something. “blue…”
“Sorry…” the usually-energetic skeleton mumbled, settling back down. His fingers gripped your hand from where it dangled over Ash’s thick forearm. He needed the contact. You were cold to the touch, but breathing much easier now.
Alphys continued, albeit more cautiously than before. “They were desperate—t-terrified. Sans’s magic responded. It formed an incomplete bond between their souls—“
Undyne did not hesitate. She heard what she needed to hear. A spear materialized in the air, glowing a brilliant blue in the dimness of the lab. “YOU DID THIS?!” she roared, lunging at Sans until the tip of her spear was inches from his throat. The energy sizzled against his bones, but he did not move. “YOU FORCED A BOND ON THEM?! THEY’RE HUMAN, SANS! THEY CAN’T—“
“No!” Alphys interjected, panicked and distressed. Her hands latched onto her girlfriend’s bicep even though she had no hope in pulling away the much stronger woman. “Undyne, stop! It wasn’t him! Not—not consciously!”
Undyne’s yellow eye flashed when it flicked to Alphys, then back to Sans. “This looks forced, Al.”
“Yes—yes, it does,” Alphys nodded frantically. “That’s the problem! It’s like—like his magic latched on in an emergency!”
The blue-skinned monster shifted, pulling away her lance, but not letting it dissipate quite yet. Wine scoffed at the display, marching forward to flick the weapon several feet back with a simple twist of his wrist.
“I Will Not Have You Threatening One Of My Packmates, Captain,” he warned, addressing her by title as if it was an insult. The fish monster ground her teeth at the audacity of the Fell skeleton, but Al clinging to her arm stopped the inevitable brawl. His paralyzing stare dropped to the good doctor. “Is That Why They’re Suffering?”
“I…I don’t know,” she admitted in a soft, helpless voice. Her eyes darted back to the soul projection. “If it were only that, they would have stabilized by now. But—but they’re getting worse. There’s something else…”
The tension in the room only grew at that sobering observation. All eyes turned to you, still in Ash’s hold. You looked so fragile against his massive chest. It hurt their own souls to witness you in such pain and be unable to do anything about it. Blue’s free hand balled into a fist, shaking like he needed to do something. Anything!
“So…What Do We Do?”
“I—I need more tests. I need to map the bond signatures, the—the magic tie.” She looked up, her glasses flashing in the low light. “But for now, there’s one thing I’m sure of. B-Being near one of you stabilizes their soul. It helps keep the damage from worsening.” It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of hope in the dark. Ash’s arms tightened around you, protective. His eyelights dimmed, but there was a spark of determination there. He wouldn’t fail you. It wasn’t an option he—they—could afford.
“Then We’re Taking Them Home,” Wine concluded, his tone brooking no argument. Beside him, Red hissed through his teeth, looking away like he couldn’t stand to see how frail and small you looked. It was taking everything in his power not to snap and destroy the lab.
Alphys sighed, her shoulders sagging in a weird mix of reluctance and relief. “O-okay, but if their condition worsens, bring them back immediately. I’ll stay up all night until I figure this out.”
A sharp nod from Wine was all that the good doctor received. As the skeletons filed out with you cradled in the gardener’s arms, Sans lingered behind. His gaze was distant but heavy. His magic had done this to you. It was unintentional. Hell, he had no idea you even existed when it had happened! But it was still his doing, all the same. A soul that he was destined to protect had been damaged by his own instincts.
The ache that spread within his rib cage was a pale echo of the cracks you’d hidden in yours…
Teaser for Chapter 2 of “Baited Breath”. Definitely had to look up a crane for that last panel. Sooooo many little components on that thing. Just pretend there is a back area with a giant garage door behind the stage for it to even get in there…
I don’t think I ever uploaded this, but this was a redo of an early scene in Chapter 1 of my “A Reprieve” fic. Y/N has NO idea that Ash is standing right behind them.
The evening sky had fallen into the velvet black of night by the time you left Grillby’s. The moon was full, and a few stars twinkled high above the city streets. Monster ingenuity allowed the modern world to blend with nature, presenting the beauty of the night sky alongside the warm glow of street lamps. You had already let S/N know that you were heading home early, Alice at your side with steadfast assurances to get you there safely. Although your sibling had been suspicious of the perky blonde, they’d relented at your insistence. Now, here you were, walking beside Alice on the sidewalk, heading toward the quiet streets of your neighborhood.
“Okay! So here’s the game plan!” Alice announced to the empty pavement. She was in full “Event Coordinator” mode, her earlier breakdown shoved into a box and pushed aside in favor of a new project: you. “We can’t do a group confession. That’s too much, and you’ll panic. Red would probably say something stupid that ruins the mood. We need to divide and conquer!” She emphasized the point with a slam of her fist into a palm and a determined grin on her face.
You offered a weak, lopsided smile. The thought of confessing—of actually looking Ash, Sans, Wine, Blue, or Red in the eye—made the butterflies in your stomach swarm and your heart race. It was exhilarating and terrifying in the same fell swoop.
“God, Y/N,” Alice giggled, looping her arm through yours as if you’d been best friends for years. You tensed for a moment, but relaxed when your mind caught up to the rest of your body. She was simply being friendly. Truly, this time. There was no longer any ulterior motive behind her actions. “You’re going to have a harem! I’m soooo jealous! But also, I think I’m okay with it? Is that weird?”
You swear your soul left your body at the description, cheeks feeling like they were on fire. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, but she was right. Your life had basically become the plot of one of those cheesy reverse-harem romance novels that had become a guilty pleasure to many.
As soon as the thought had formed, it vanished beneath a wave of dizziness. It wasn’t gradual. The world suddenly flipped upside-down. It felt like you’d taken a step onto the deck of a ship in the middle of a raging tycoon. One second, you were walking arm-in-arm with your ex-rival; the next, gravity dragged you down. Fast. You didn’t even register hitting the pavement. The aching pulse beneath your sternum—the one that had been building for the past few weeks—lanced through your chest like a knife. Black spotted your vision and your lungs were on fire. It felt like glass shards had formed in your chest. You couldn’t take a breath without something scraping.
“Y/N??!”
A high-pitched, screaming resonance drowned out Alice’s voice. You could feel it. You could feel your soul—a fragile, battered thing that Alphys had warned you about—buckle beneath a weight it could no longer support. Alice’s grip on your arm was the only thing that kept you from face-planting into the concrete. She had stumbled when you fell, dragged down by your dead weight.
“Hey! Y/N! Hey, look at me!”
You did not register her. You couldn’t. You were slipping. Every nerve ending in your body was on fire, and the only thing you could focus on was dragging in a wet, ragged breath of air. As you fought against the static pressing against your vision, Alice fumbled with her purse.
“Stay with me, Y/N!” her voice shook. Her manicured nails clicked against the screen of her phone as she urgently dialed a number she knew by heart. Not even half a ring tone later and a familiar baritone answered. “Y/N,” Alice blurted before Sans could say anything other than her name. “Y/N collapsed! They—they can’t breathe right! They’re—“
“where.”
Sans’s voice dropped into something dark. No laziness, no humor, no softness. Just pure, barely-controlled rage. The single command made the blonde freeze, ice dropping into her gut. But she didn’t stay still for long. The reality of the situation was dire. Time was of the essence. She jerked her head up, whipping it around in search of a street sign or storefront. Anything that would indicate their precise location.
“Uh—we’re—we’re two blocks from Grillby’s. Near—near the corner by the florist—“ she swallowed hard. “Maple and—and 3rd, I think. Sans, please—“
He didn’t let her finish. “put the phone to their ear.”
“What?”
“DO IT.”
Alice scrambled to obey, pressing the cold glass against your ear.
“kitten,” the voice vibrated against your skull. A soft, breathless whimper slipped free from your throat at the sound of one of your soulmates. Your head may be full of static, but your soul recognized the deep register pressing against your cheek. “listen to me. don’t you dare close that eye. you hear me? focus on my voice.”
You tried. You really did. But another ripple of pain had you clawing at your chest like a wild animal trying to escape a bear trap. The thing was, it was your own soul that was the trap, stealing your breath and making the world fall apart below your feet.
“i’m coming,” Sans promised. The sound of wind rushing past the receiver was audible now. “i’m coming right now. don’t you fade on me. if you dust before i get there, i will drag you back from the void myself.”
You were not fully aware of your surroundings, so you didn’t notice when the air pressure dropped. Alice, however, did. She dropped the phone when her ears popped and the streetlights died. In the darkness, a light burst into existence—a figure that hadn’t been there before. It was Sans. But it wasn’t the neighbor in the hoodie who made bad puns…
The infamous Judge’s left eye was blazing—a torch of blue and yellow fire that illuminated the night. There was no grin on his skull. His face was a mask of strict authority, worse than even Wine’s. In the space of a heartbeat, he was on his knees beside you, his hands glowing with blue magic as they hovered over your heaving chest.
“Sans!” Alice sobbed, relieved and terrified at once. “They—“
“quiet,” he hissed, not even bothering to look at her. His single blazing eye was fixed on you. The tips of his phalanges brushed against your sternum. “i gotcha, y/n. stay with me,” he whispered, his voice shaking with an emotion that you couldn’t place. Suddenly, a blue light engulfed you, and the world went white…
That evening, when it was time for S/N’s shift to start, they dragged you along for the ride. They refused to let you out of their sight, too unsettled by how meek and small you’d been since getting home from the lodge. You didn’t even bother arguing. Your body felt heavier than usual, and it was a struggle to simply stay awake, much less upright. You’d assumed that the prescription Alphys had given you came with side effects, such as drowsiness, but you were starting to second-guess that assumption…
Stepping into the heat of Grillby’s felt more like walking into another room in your house than a bar. The soothing crackle of flames and the soft glow from the fireplace wrapped around you in a comfortable shroud. The monster patrons mixed with friendly humans created low levels of chatter—manageable for someone with high-strung anxiety. The tension in your shoulders eased as S/N made a beeline for the bar. You followed them, just a step behind, taking in the sight and smell of the two fire elementals working behind the mahogany. Grillby glanced up from polishing a glass, the flicker of his flames a familiar greeting despite his total lack of a face. Grim, too, stood behind the bar: tall, broad-shouldered, and with his own body made of flames. But while his partner glowed with warm oranges and golds, his burned with blacks and deep reds. Without a word, he tilted his chin towards the far end of the bar where he kept a seat for you.
It was a stool tucked into a corner with a solid brick wall on one side and the bar on the other. It offered a limited angle of approach, allowing you to see the entire establishment and prevent anyone from surprising you at your back. No one else was ever allowed to sit there on the off chance that you’d come along during one of S/N’s shifts. This just so happened to be one of those days.
You gave Grim an appreciative smile when you passed, slipping onto the stool and letting your elbows rest on the counter. Whereas Grillby wore clear, square spectacles, Grim had tinted lenses hiding the searing embers that made up his eyes. That didn’t change a thing about how you read him. A spark here, a change of color there—those were only some of the signs you’d learned to understand what sort of mood he was in. Currently, the smolder of his fire was calm and collected. No one had done something stupid. Yet.
Your sibling shot you a pointed look before they slipped behind the bar to grab their apron and a writing pad. You rolled your good eye, waving the concern off and watching as they disappeared into a backroom. Grim leaned closer to your corner, keeping his voice low.
“You eat today?”
You hesitated before you answered. Grim shook his head, half-amused and half-exasperated. The flames that made up his head spat out a few bright-blue embers. He reached under the bar to pull out a plate of something simple. Before you could blink, a collection of crackers, cheese, and some grapes slid into the space between your elbows. No fanfare. No questions. You exhaled a playful sigh, but, inside, you were grateful. The care the monsters gave you in this city was more than anything you could have ever imagined before moving here.
The evening progressed in pieces: S/N wiped down tables and took customers’ orders, Grillby poured the drinks with years of practice, and Grim watched the room like a hawk. You, meanwhile, kept to your little corner, collapsed in on yourself and trying to breathe through the pain in your chest.
‘Tomorrow,’ you kept telling yourself, willing the ache to subside. It had been growing steadily throughout the day. It had grown from a dull throb in your ribcage to a tight, increasing pressure around what you could only assume was your soul. You felt like an object being pressed down on by one of those machines that you’d scroll through on social media and get mesmerized by.
“Order up, Y/N!” S/N’s voice cut through the ambient noise of the jukebox. They slid a tray of shot glasses down the bar toward you. Experience made it so that not a single drop was spilled, but that wasn’t what had your interest piqued. These weren’t the usual shots on the menu. They were dark, creamy concoctions topped with foam and spices.
“Grim and Grillz are arguing about the new espresso martini recipe,” your sibling explained, leaning their elbows on the bar across from you. “Grillby thinks it needs more vanilla. Grim thinks it needs, and I quote, ‘the bitter taste of existential dread’.”
Grillby’s flame flickered in amusement, yellow embers floating into the air before vanishing into nothing. Grim, on the other hand, made a low crackling sound that could have been a groan but sounded more like a log snapping in half in the hearth.
“It’s supposed to have bite,” his deep, breathy voice argued his point. His dark glasses turned to you. “Taste first, complain after.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, mulling over the idea of playing guinea pig for the monster bartender, but picked up the first cup anyway. The smell of dark chocolate and chilies filled your nose as you took a sip. A rich, bitter bourbon burned pleasantly down your throat, the chilies leaving behind a smoky aftertaste. The magic infused with the monster drink settled in your chest, chasing the worst of the chill from your soul. You gave Grim a thumbs up, his crimson-and-black flames flaring brighter in response. When Grim pushed a specific shot glass towards you, the darker one that smelled much more strongly of alcohol, you rose a brow at him. He tapped the counter once, meaning clear: try. Cautiously, you raised the glass to your lips. The smell of whiskey and coffee was overwhelming, but you took a tentative sip. You immediately started coughing. It was good, but, damn, did it have teeth.
S/N cackled while Grim’s flame crackled with satisfaction. Grillby merely shook his head, offering you more crackers to combat the burn from the spices his coworker had hidden in the drink.
“Now that’s a drink,” Grim stated, smug.
You rolled your eye at him, which only made S/N laugh even harder. By the time the stinging in your throat had subsided, the bar was in full swing. S/N was bussing tables and taking orders, running around the establishment like they’d been here for years instead of just a few months. Grim had threatened a bunny monster, two dogs, and a rowdy group of human teenagers. A slow night for him. Grillby, meanwhile, mixed drinks and cooked food in the back, pointing guests who requested water to the fountain outside.
It was comfortable. Peaceful. And it almost made you forget about soulmates, meddling neighbors, and the fragility of your soul. Until the front door opened and a familiar mop of blonde hair walked in.
It was Alice. And she looked…ruined. Not in a dramatic, Hollywood movie kind of way. There was no smear of mascara or tangled nest of hair. Her outfit was cute, her hair loose but neat, and makeup fully in place. The mess was in the details: her clothes were wrinkled like she’d slept in them, her makeup minimal and smudged like she’d tried to wash it off but gave up halfway, and the skin around her eyes was red and puffy. She’d clearly been crying—her eyes were glassy and dull—but she’d pulled herself together enough to stumble into the public eye.
She was already drunk enough that her steps weren’t entirely straight, yet she managed to collapse onto the stool beside you without falling flat on her face. You flinched at the loud thud her elbows made when they hit the counter. Grim caught your discomfort and stiffened. His dancing flames spiked, turning a warning shade of violet. You reached out before he could throw a fireball at the woman, tapping your knuckles sharply against the wood. “It’s okay,” you mouthed once you got his attention. The elemental hesitated but stepped back. He kept close, hovering like a concerned bodyguard, but did not interfere. You returned your attention to Alice, who, by this point, had buried her head in her arms.
“He hates me,” she sobbed into the bar, her voice muffled both by fabric and self-pity.
You didn’t have to ask who. You knew exactly who had been assigned the task of “handling” Alice. You took an awkward sip of your chili-chocolate martini, waiting for her to continue.
“Red turned me down,” she went on to explain, lifting her head only to glare at the grain in the counter as if it were to blame. “He…I went over there today. To apologize for the cabin. To maybe—I don’t know. Ask him out properly?” She let out a bitter laugh, the sound wet from tears that she had shed earlier. “He laughed at me, Y/N. He told me I was ‘barkin’ up the wrong tree’ and that he prefers… he said he prefers ‘quiet types with battle scars’…”
Your breath caught. Were he, and the others, really serious about their pursuit of you? Shaking yourself out of your own head, you placed a hand on Alice’s arm. She flinched at your touch, surprise flashing in her eyes. Her eyes traced the intricate buttercup design embroidered into the eyepatch, then down to the scar peeking out from your collar.
“He meant you,” she whispered. “They all mean you, don’t they?” The confidence she’d worn for so long started to crack, revealing the insecurities beneath. Alice wiped her nose with the back of her hand, ruining what was left of her foundation. You handed her a napkin as a replacement for her sleeve. “I don’t get it. I really don’t. I’m the catch! I’m the one who plans the parties and can talk to people…” she trailed off, slumping even deeper in her seat. “They liked me at first, didn’t they?”
You felt a twinge of pity. Not for her bruised ego, but for the genuine confusion in her voice. She had lived her whole life as being the girl that the guys chased—the main character, the protagonist of her own life. Finding out she was an NPC—or worse, the antagonist—was shattering her worldview. She needed honesty, not pretty words to fix the mask she wore. Nudging her shoulder to get her eyes on your hands, you started to sign.
“Maybe you’ve been too busy chasing them to learn who you are?”
The woman blinked, surprised. “Wow. Deep, Y/N.”
You flushed, shooting Grim a weak glare when he chuckled at your embarrassment before returning your attention to Alice. She let out a heavy sigh, signaling Grim for a drink. He slid her a glass of whiskey with minimal complaint. She downed it in one go, appearing more collected than she had when she’d first come in.
“I guess… I guess I knew,” she admitted quietly. “I saw the way Sans looked at you at the cabin. And Ash… God, that giant practically worships you.” She looked over at you, her gaze sharp. “Do you love them? Or are you just letting it happen because they’re there?”
The question hung in the air between you two, heavy and raw: do you love them?
You thought of how Ash had kissed you in the cabin. Of how Red had bundled you up in his jacket to keep the storm from dredging up bad memories. Of how Sans had taken you to the roof after a nightmare, and how he had held you after your admission of being abandoned by your family. Wine’s thoughtful gift—the eyepatch—and how his magic dusted his cheeks a deep red. Of Blue steadying you in the lake, guiding you through the painful exercises to restore your range of motion.
“You’re hopeless,” Alice sighed heavily after a moment of silence. Startled, you glanced up at her, noticing that you had answered her question without ever signing a word. “God, I thought you were just… I thought you were playing some quiet little game to steal them away from me,” she admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, her voice full of regret. For the first time, she didn’t look at you with pity or jealousy. She looked at you with understanding. “But you really love them.”
You gave a shy nod, your cheeks blazing but unable to deny the obvious.
“Then let’s help each other. Maybe I can help you with your lack of courage to confess. And you can help me learn to be more…me.”
You sucked in a breath. “I’d like that,” you signed, a smile, fragile but there, forming on your face. It was time to bury the hatchet…and pick up an olive branch.
You looked at your phone. It was heavier than usual in your hand. You had promised Ash that you would go to the lab as soon as you’d gotten home… You had promised Al that you would allow her to run the full breadth of tests needed to check on the status of your soul… But the conversation in the car—soulmates, bonds, and all—was still ringing in your ears. It had nearly been a whole day since you’d returned from the cabin.
You let your arm drop to your side, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t do it. Not today. If you went to the lab and Al confirmed the worst of your fears, it would make it real. And if it was real, you would have to do something about it. Which meant that you would have to face the skeletons…those very same skeletons who had claimed to be your soulmates…
You weren’t ready.
Taking a deep breath, you typed out a message to Alphys. Requesting a visit a day from now wouldn’t hurt, right? You had never explicitly stated that you would go to the lab the second you returned. Besides, you and S/N needed time to recoup at home. From the cabin trip. With the chaos and the storm and…everything…
Even inside your own head, the excuses were weak, but you sent the text out before you could second-guess yourself. To your surprise, you received a response almost immediately.
Dr. Al: Oh! I understand! Emotional stress can exacerbate the symptoms, so rest is actually a good idea!
Dr. Al: But PLEASE take it easy, Y/N. No heavy lifting. No stress. If you feel any sharp pains or if your extremities go numb, call me immediately! I mean it!
You read the words twice before sending back a thumbs-up emoji, guilt twisting in your gut. Next, you opened your text thread with Ash. The last message was a picture he’d sent of a weird mushroom that had sprouted in his backyard over the weekend. It brought a smile to your face. You quickly explained the situation with Alphys and the lab visit, claiming exhaustion as your excuse before tossing the phone onto your mattress. If he insisted on going anyway—on carrying you into the yellow monster’s lab across town himself—you don’t know if you would be able to handle it.
What did being soulmates entail? Was it different with monsters and a human? And how did you have five? Was that just how monster society worked or was there something more going on? You thought of the oddities you had noticed over these past few months, of how similar some of the skeletons looked to one another. Of how Edge, Red, and even Wine would slip and call Sans “Vanilla” or “Classic”. Of how Ash, too, had mistakenly referred to his brother, Poplar, as “paps” instead of “pops”.
You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes, letting out a silent groan of defeat. You stood up, your legs feeling like jelly, but you steadied yourself against the wall to make your way downstairs. You needed a distraction. Something, anything, to steer your thoughts away from the torrent of emotions concerning a certain set of skeleton monsters living less than a hedge away.
You found S/N in the living room, lounging across the couch with a game controller in hand. The soundtrack for Mario Kart’s Rainbow Road hummed over the speakers. They paused the game when you collapsed on the overstuffed cushion beside them, watching you with the same concern Ash and every other person you knew had been looking at you with lately.
“Hey,” they smiled, though it looked strained. “You okay? You’ve been in your room for hours.”
“Did you know?” You didn’t waste time with pleasantries. If anyone was going to give you the answers you needed, it was your own flesh and blood. Part of you hoped that they didn’t know—you didn’t want to think they would keep something so important from you—but another part of you was desperate for someone to talk to. Someone that wasn’t a skeleton with overly protective instincts or a stand-up routine a mile wide.
S/N went still. They didn’t even have to ask what you were referring to. The guilt in their eyes was enough.
“Ah,” they sighed, rubbing the back of their neck as a sheepish smile formed on their lips. “The soulmate thing?”
You were too tired to be disappointed in them or even to lecture. Instead, you simply nodded.
“Yeah. I knew,” S/N admitted, voice dropping into a quiet hum. “Coffee told me a few days ago. Before the cabin trip. You were, uh, sleeping. He made me swear to not tell you,” they hurried on before you could spiral. “Y/N, look… Coffee explained it. He said your soul is…fragile. Like glass that’s already cracked. He said the ‘Judges’—Sans, Red, Stretch—they can see it. They were terrified that if they rushed you, or if they dropped a bombshell like ‘hey, we’re destined to be together’ on you while you were still healing, it might…break you…”
S/N set their gaming controller aside, turning to face you on the sofa. “Honestly? I don’t get it. Soul magic, bonding, all that… It sounds like fantasy novel stuff, but I saw how scared they looked. Even Wine looked like he was going to hurl when he talked about it. I agreed to wait until after they discussed it with you.” Suddenly, their nose wrinkled and, with a playful roll of their eyes, they added, “Of course, those bags of bones drag their feet worse than the walking dead. I told them not to wait too long. You’re too smart for them to keep things under wraps forever.”
They shrugged their shoulders, earning an amused curl of your lips and a shake of your head. Their posture loosened, relieved to see even that. Before you could argue, they put on a movie instead of turning back to their game, sprawling on the couch with their feet propped on the coffee table. You, meanwhile, decided to curl up in the corner of the sofa, pulling a heavy, weighted blanket tight around your body. The heater was on, but the chill in your bones had deepened. You missed the steady pulse of Ash’s soul against your cheek. You craved the heavy warmth of Red’s jacket swallowing your frame.
Midnight, who had been resting on a bundle of blankets on the opposite side of the couch, perked up. His ears—too large for his tiny frame—twitched in interest. Digging his way out of the pile of fluff and cloth, his tiny black paws padded across the cushions towards you. When he reached you, he didn’t hesitate. He sprang into your lap like he belonged there, settling against your belly with a nudge of his head.
You huffed in response to the tiny little prince of the beasts, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. Together, you spent the rest of the afternoon like this, cuddled up on the couch with a purring kitten on your legs, a sibling at your side, and the tv blaring Disney music from “Treasure Planet” into the living room.
The rhythmic sound of tires against asphalt lulled you into the comfortable space between the waking world and sleep. You were resting in Ash’s lap, head tucked under his chin with Midnight bundled up in your arms like a kitten burrito. You had worried that, without a carrier, the feline would panic in the car the second you guys left the cabin, but instead, he had, miraculously, fallen asleep inside the bundle of blankets you’d wrapped him in. Poplar had guessed that it was exhaustion from wandering the woods for days as a stray. You preferred the analogy of him feeling comfortable enough with his new family to relax.
“so sweetheart named the furball ‘midnight’, huh?” Red drawled from the middle seat, an unlit cigarette dangling from his teeth. He snorted. “humerus. get it? cause we’re skeletons? and their namin’ skills are…bare bones?”
“IT’S A CLASSIC NAME!” Blue defended from beside him, adjusting the bright-blue bandana around his neck. “IT IS MYSTERIOUS AND ELEGANT!”
“I THINK IT IS ACCEPTABLE,” Wine sniffed from the passenger seat before Red could interject with a counter-argument. “AT LEAST THEY DID NOT NAME HIM ‘BLACK’. THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN…REDUNDANT.” The comment earned him a snort from Red and an awkward smile from Blue.
Sans ignored his skeletal passengers, keeping his eyelights glued to the road. One hand rested on the wheel while the other tapped restlessly against his thigh. Alice had already left at dawn in her own little convertible, heading to a wedding consultation three towns over. Alphys and Undyne took their hatchback, citing “scientific discussion”, which everyone knew was code for “loud anime music and gossip”. That left Sen, Edge, Poplar, Papyrus, Stretch, and Coffee to pile into the minivan while you, Sans, Ash, Red, Blue, and Wine took the black SUV.
“they out?” Red’s voice asked less than half an hour later. You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to, but you were aware enough to understand the words. Everything felt like it was coming through a filter, like hearing someone calling your name while you were submerged in a pool.
“yeah,” Ash’s response rumbled against your cheek. “out like a light. poor thing’s exhausted.” His thumb rubbed a continuous circle over your right thigh, holding you steady against him.
Blue craned his head to look at your small form cradled in his counterpart’s lap. The cyan eye lights in his sockets dimmed at the visual of you sagged against his broad frame. “They Have Been Sleeping A Lot…” he noted aloud, keeping his voice as quiet as he was able.
Wine’s gaze, too, flicked back, watching you in the reflection of the rearview mirror. The crimson of his single eyelight flashed brighter, his magic responding to the hollowness of your cheeks and the pallor of your skin. “It Is Excessive.” Ash stiffened beneath you, his hold tightening just enough to reassure himself that you were still safe.
“drop it,” Sans’s voice came from the front, his knuckles audibly cracking as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His usual grin was tight and anything but friendly. “they’ve had a rough week. let ‘em sleep.”
“I Am Merely Expressing Concern,” Wine bit out, but said no more, choosing to keep the peace no matter how fragile it was.
Red, however, was having none of it. The playfulness vanished from his expression, eyelights flashing toward the blue-hooded skeleton up front. He stiffened in his seat, leaning forward to address their “leader” without disturbing your rest. “so, vanilla, you wanna tell us what the hell happened back there? with the clothes? and the starin’?”
“don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Sans deflected quickly, but his voice lacked any real conviction. Blue magic dripped down his skull and the flush on his bones was hard to ignore. Everything in him was screaming to shortcut back to your soft, curled-up form, and he was struggling in his fight against it.
“the hell you don’t!” Red snapped. “you were practically markin’ them! scentin’ them with that hoodie! you act like you’re already bonded, but you’re not.”
Sans’s grip tightened, now both hands were clinging to the wheel as the debate grew more heated. “it’s the resonance,” he finally muttered between clenched teeth. “it’s…loud. hard to think straight when the soul keeps tryin’ to reach out.” A moment of heavy silence fell over the interior of the vehicle before it was broken by the most-boisterous of their group.
“We All Feel It, Classic,” Blue reassured, his voice subdued but firm. “But You Gotta Pull Back. You’re Going To Scare Them. We Aren’t Bonded Yet And They Don’t Know About The Soulmate Thing.”
Soulmate?
Your chest tightened at the word, heart skipping a beat. Your reaction almost went unnoticed…but Ash was holding you. His hyper vigilance caught the minute tell that you were still awake, or, at least, awake enough to be aware of their conversation. Instead of outing you to the others, he moved his hand from your thigh to your sternum. The light press of his palm against your chest steadied your racing pulse. It was a necessary anchor in the storm now raging inside of you. His silence spoke volumes.
“We Have To Figure Out How To Do This Without Hurting Them,” Blue’s voice continued, oblivious to the situation in the backseat. “Poly Relationships May Not Be Weird For Us Monsters, But They’re Human. We Don’t Even Know If They’d Want That.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. That was the heart of it: the real fear that made their jokes feel brittle. Monsters understood souls, bonding, packs, and families that weren’t made from blood. Polycules weren’t rare in their culture. Love didn’t always fit into neat pairs.
Humans, on the other hand…
“tch. they might not even want one of us, let alone five,” Red grumbled. Beneath the harsh tone, there was a thread of insecurity. A desperation to be accepted. He wouldn’t push for it, though. It was a lot easier to put up a wall than jump over a chasm.
“They Like Us…” Blue sounded offended by the idea of you feeling otherwise. It was a very Blue thing to say.
“They Like Us As A Family,” Wine corrected, ever the realist. “That Is Not The Same As Accepting A Bond. When They’re Ready, We Will Talk To Them.”
“hard to do when alice keeps tryin’ to jump our bones every five second,” Red pointed out, a hard edge to his words.
Your hazy thoughts turned to the blonde, mulling on the skeletons’ conversation. Your neighbor had been relentless in her pursuit of them, even following them to the cabin despite not actually being invited. You thought of all the times she’d flirted with Red, hung off either Blue or Paps, tried to suck up to Wine, and even stuck her own phone number to their fridge (Stretch tossed it in the fireplace the second she’d left).
“Ugh,” Blue groaned, clearly remembering every single instance. “She Is Very…Persistent.”
Red’s bark of laughter followed Blue’s soft admission, unamused. “she’s a menace,” he snarled. “tryin’ to play us against each other. heard her tryin’ to get edge to carry her. nearly lost a hand.”
“you volunteering?” Sans chuckled, still tense but making light of a tough situation.
“i’ll do it,” Red shrugged, flicking a lighter. He ignored Sans’s reprimand of no smoking in the car. The comforting scent of cinnamon and cherries soon filled the cabin. “i speak fluent ‘bad idea’. she’ll get the hint. i’ll make it clear.”
Ash pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wanted you to hear this. He wanted you to know the truth they had been keeping from you since day one—the day he had stepped into your backyard. But your thoughts were spinning and your head was full of “what-ifs” and “I’m-not-good-enoughs”. Soulmates? Polycules? Even the situation with Alice and hearing that they all were just as irritated as you were by the blonde’s pursuit. It was wonderful. It was overwhelming. You weren’t sure if you could handle all of it, or any of it…
You kept your eye closed, letting the conversation wash over you. The warmth of Ash’s touch, the gentle sway of the car, and the dull throb in your chest all came together to pull you down into the quiet. You would face it. All of it. The magic, the souls, the love… Soon.
The storm had finally stopped sometime around midnight.
Inside the blanket fort, the air was warm and filled with the snores of multiple bodies. S/N was curled into a ball near your feet, Coffee and Stretch laid out on either side of them. Paps and Blue had slumped over a game of Monopoly in the corner, wads of play money tucked in Blue’s hands from a successful purchase of all the railroads and utilities. Beside you, Red was a dead weight, his arm still draped over your waist. He didn’t snore, but his soul hummed with a low purr that vibrated against your back.
It was safe and warm…so why were you awake?
Your good eye snapped open, staring into the gloom of the makeshift tent. The battery-operated lanterns had long since died, leaving the space pitch black save for a sliver of moonlight that cut through a gap in the blankets. It took you a long while to figure out what had triggered your subconscious alarm. A scent that didn’t belong: wet pine needles, mud, and rain. You tried to sit up without waking anybody, namely Red, but a shadow fell over the gap that made up the entrance of the fort. You froze, heart leaping into your throat as instinct screamed at you that danger was imminent. A large skeletal hand lifted the flap, followed shortly after by a massive silhouette that blocked out the remaining moonlight. White-hot panic lanced through you before a familiar voice soothed your fears in the same breath.
“shh. it’s just me, buttercup.”
Ash.
Letting out a breath of relief, you scrambled out from under Red’s arm. He grumbled in his sleep, but pulled a pillow into a headlock to replace you. You crawled toward the opening, the adrenaline rush making your head spin. Ash was crouching there. His mismatched eyelights softened considerably despite the water dripping from his skull and clothes. He looked exhausted, muddy, yet relieved when you practically launched yourself at him.
“woah, easy,” he chuckled, catching you with minimal effort. His hands were freezing, but his grip was strong. “i’m all wet, buttercup. you’ll get soaked.”
You didn’t care. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and buried your face into the damp flannel plastered against his shoulder. He was back. He was alive. That was all you cared about.
A tired, understanding smile pulled at his teeth as he rose to his feet. Despite his size, he was remarkably silent. Even the most hyper vigilant of the skeletons barely stirred at his presence, though Wine did crack open an eye socket before he returned to his rest once he saw there was no danger. Ash cradled you against his massive ribcage when he realized that you weren’t about to let go of him anytime soon. “sorry i worried ya. storm got bad fast.”
You pulled back slightly, just enough to frantically sign. “Poplar?”
“he’s good,” the lumbering giant assured you. The rasp of his calloused thumb whispered against your cheek as he rubbed away a smudge of dirt that had transferred from him to you. “went straight to bed. his bones were rattlin’ pretty hard from the cold, but…i needed to see you first.” His mismatched eyelights drifted down, taking in the oversized black jacket you were still wearing. He recognized the fur hood immediately.
“red lookin’ out for you?”
You stiffened, worried he may be upset. When you glanced up, however, all you saw was relief on his skull.
“good,” Ash breathed when you finally nodded, a blush coloring your cheeks. “glad someone kept you warm while i couldn’t. you hungry? I got somethin’ to show you, but i need some light.”
You didn’t even have to nod as your stomach did the talking for you. A low grumble echoed into the dark of the cabin. Now that the anxiety about your favorite skeletal gardener’s whereabouts had finally faded, your hunger returned with a vengeance. Your face went so red that it could compete with the tomatoes from your garden.
With a rumbling chuckle, Ash carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen. The silvery-blue glow from the moon flooded the empty space. It gave the room an otherworldly atmosphere that magnified the quiet intimacy between you two. Ash’s socks moved silently across the linoleum, leaving behind wet footprints from the storm that had long since moved on. He carefully settled you onto a countertop before moving to unbuckle the top flap of his overalls.
“got stuck about three miles out. found an old deer blind. tight squeeze for me and pop, but it kept the hail off.” You watched, curious, as he pulled the fabric of his shirt away from his ribs. “would’ve made a run for it sooner—skeletons don’t get sick—but…didn’t want this little guy to freeze.”
From the warmth of his ribcage, nestled deep within the layers of flannel and bone, Ash pulled out a tiny, shivering bundle of black fur. Your jaw dropped in a silent gasp. You leaned as far forward as the counter allowed, your good eye focused on the kitten trembling in Ash’s massive palm. It was barely old enough to be away from its mother, with oversized paws and bleary eyes. It let out a tiny, pathetic mewl.
“found him under some roots near the ridge,” the skeleton whispered, looking at the creature with such tenderness that it made your chest ache. “was screamin’ his head off.”
You ran a finger over the kitten’s head. The damp fur was soft as silk against your skin. It instinctively leaned into your touch, seeking warmth and safety. If you still had a voice, you’d coo over the adorable animal. As it was, you simply held it close to your heart when Ash deposited him into your arms.
“he’s hungry,” Ash noted, moving to the fridge with determined footsteps. “think we got any ham? or milk? wait, no…pop said milk is bad for cats. water? maybe tuna…”
Your good eye followed him as he bustled around the kitchen, expression soft. You watched as he gathered two small, shallow bowls from a cupboard, some leftover turkey, and a knife. Everything looked so small in his hands, like a giant playing with dolls. It made your heart race, but you quickly swallowed the rush of emotions when he returned to the counter. With quick, sure movements, he shredded the meat into tiny, easy-to-swallow pieces while simultaneously handing you a towel from the drying rack for their new tiny charge.
“there ya go, buddy,” Ash crooned, sliding both dishes—one filled with meat and the second with lukewarm water—into the space by your hip. You placed the kitten next to them, keeping one hand close in case he fell. He was a little wobbly, at first, but the now mostly dry puffball attacked the turkey with a ferocity that made you both chuckle.“feisty,” Ash grinned, canines flashing. His gaze moved from the cat to you, expression shifting into something more intimate. “got a name for him?”
You tilted your head, momentarily surprised that he was asking you. Your attention drifted to the pitch-black fur, stark against the granite countertop, before flicking up to the glowing numbers flashing on the oven’s clock across the moonlit space. The storm had temporarily knocked out the power at some point during the evening, leaving the default time as the only manmade light in the room.
12:00 AM.
“Midnight,” you signed.
Ash cocked his skull, a huff of amusement slipping past his teeth. “midnight, huh? …yeah. yeah, that fits.” He reached for a fruit bowl nearby to grab an apple. With a casual display of strength that made your breath hitch and the butterflies in your stomach to restart their swarming, he snapped the fruit in half. “here,” he offered you a piece. You took it, crunching into the fruit with a shyness that had nothing to do with your growling stomach. Ash watched you eat, his mismatched gaze tracing the line of your jaw, the curve of your neck, and the peek of collarbone from where Red’s jacket had slipped. He stepped between your knees, invading your personal space in the best way possible.
He settled his teeth against your forehead, eyes sliding shut. “missed you,” he whispered against your skin.
You stopped chewing, your heart hammering harder within your chest. With great difficulty, you swallowed what was in your mouth just as he leaned down to close the inch of space between you. His teeth—smooth bone—pressed against your lips. It wasn’t soft like skin, but it was warm and infused with magic. It felt like Pop Rocks crackling against your tongue. Your stomach was doing leaps and twists that would make an acrobat jealous, but you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Ash groaned low in his throat, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as if you were something delicate and precious. By the time he pulled back, you were both breathless. His eyelights—a beautiful navy-blue and a warm red—were blown so wide that they filled his sockets.
“wow,” he breathed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. You smiled at him, feeling equally as light-headed. He stared at you for a moment longer, happy and flushed, but then his gaze drifted lower. The softness of his expression shifted, a crease forming between his brow bones. Concern tightened the corners of his mouth when his magic picked up on something only he could see.
“y/n…” he started, his voice losing the intimate croon. “your soul…it feels quiet. too quiet. like it’s hidin’.” He pressed a bony palm against your sternum as if he could summon an answer from inside your chest on willpower alone. He could feel the racing pulse of your human heart, but the thrum of your soul was muted, like it had been shoved behind a pane of frosted glass. His Judgment magic had always been less reliable than the other skeletons’, but, normally, your soul would call out to his the loudest.
You flinched. Not from pain, but from guilt. The sedative Alphys had prescribed you was still working, but who knew for how long. Ash caught the flinch. His sockets narrowed.
“it’s hurtin’, ain’t it?”
You raised your hands, about to deny it, but the lie died on your palms under his scrutiny. You knew he’d been a sentry in the Underground. He had told you as much. Trying to make up an excuse to assuage his fears, to make him feel better, to make you feel better, would not work here. He would catch you in your lies. Your gaze dropped to Midnight, who was now cleaning his paws. The turkey was gone, and the water was half-drank and half on the granite.
“Alphys wants to do an exam when we get back,” you admitted, blunt. It wasn’t the full truth, but it was enough. The fact that you were even willing to go to the monster’s lab in the first place was an enormous tell on just how serious the situation had become.
Ash’s hand didn’t leave your chest. He could feel the irregular hum beneath the bone and skin, even as muted as it was. He didn’t dig any deeper, but he clearly didn’t buy that it was just a “check-up” either. “okay,” he finally spoke, the single word shattering the quiet of the kitchen. “i’m going with you.”
You stiffened, starting to shake your head, but the massive skeleton monster interrupted.
“not up for debate, buttercup,” he insisted, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “you ain’t doin’ scary medical stuff alone. i’m comin’. hold your hand and everything.” He pulled back to give you a crooked, reassuring grin that didn’t quite hide the worry in his sockets. “besides, someone’s gotta drive midnight to the vet, too,” he added with a glance down at the kitten. “might as well make it a family trip.”
A grateful smile curled your lips. You leaned your head against his chest, breathing in the musk of rain and the earthy scent that was Ash. The anxiety was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but with Ash’s soul beating against your cheek and Midnight purring on your lap, it felt…manageable.
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