Skeleton Ghost

To Feed a Dragon

((10375 Words. It also gets a little fucked up.))

The hour was late and the unfamiliar house was dark. The only light to be seen in many rooms was the set of shifting eyelights of the skeleton wandering about, locating a kitchen.

Sans paused at the figure already at the fridge, grinning maniacally and upturning a bottle of sauce over their open maw.
He watched the other guzzle for a moment, then gag and pause, sleeve wiping teeth. Then he quietly coughed.

Spade jolted, slamming the bottle into the fridge and closing the door, stiffly facing him before relaxing.
"I thought you were a human." He whispered loudly. "I shouldn't have done that."
Sans just snorted. "I basically had the same idea. Were you curious?"
"Human barbeque sauce? Absolutely. You like ketchup, right? Wanna try?"

Walking up, Sans grinned. "It's not Grilby's, but ketchup is ketchup. How's the sauce?" He asked in equally hushed tones, opening the fridge himself.
"Not bad. Richer taste, but I feel a little nauseous now.."
"It's a dense food." Sans shrugged, grabbing the Heinz. "You should be careful. It takes a while to build up a good tolerance, especially for ones like us."

"How do you do it? I barely remember the Surface anymore.. and I'm what, 40 years older than you?"
"Give or take." He shrugged, shaking the bottle. "And, well, I know so much partly because of Frisk, y'know?"
"Partly?"
"...I think Candara told you already." He replied lowly.

"...That time business? Resets, you called it?"
"Yeah.."
"You know. I think you need therapy."
Sans snorted loudly in the silence, leaning on the fridge to snicker.
"Ooohhh believe me, I know." His voice raised slightly.
"But how could I even begin to explain all my baggage?"
"Beats me, but it's worth trying."
"Maybe. Maybe." He then chuckled. "Mayhaps."
"I thinketh thee art fucking tired." Spade said drily, and Sans guffawed.

"Noli me rideat." He fired back.
"Thou should go the fucketh to bed." Spade continued to butcher two variants of English together, modern and middle.
"That's not how you say it-" Sans snickered.
Spade grinned wider. "Thee shoulede gī bihofþe bede."

"Ugh, no." He groaned despite his grin. "I never bothered learning Middle."
"But you know Latin?" Spade asked.
"That's notoriously hard to find books for!"
"I found a textbook." He winked.
"How many textbooks did you find?" He was now genuinely curious.

Sans just shrugged, squirting ketchup in his mouth. "I found more than textbooks, y'know."
"Like what?" Grassy hued eyelights studied him.
"Stuff like my clothes." Before he went on, Spade lit up. "The blue jacket? Those were human clothes? I never noticed."
"Every last bit of it. Best finds of my life, my slippers especially. Best footwear."
"How did you find a pair together?"
"Some human threw out a perfectly good pair of shoes still in the box. Or maybe it was dropped in the river by accident, who knows? It worked out for me."

"I genuinely didn't realize we could wear human clothes until I saw you in new ones." Spade admitted.
"We're really not all that different from humans. Structurally, anyway. In shape." He snorted.
"However my bro's just a little too tall to fit in most human clothes."
"How did that even happen? You of all people ending up.. so small in comparison to him. He might be the tallest skele I ever seen."

"Who am I to know? Maybe I was just stressed too much when I was younger."
"You actually had to raise your brother?"
"Yep."
"You're literally two years apart!"
"You say that like no one helped."
"Did anyone?"
"Pretty much. Even got Asgore to help."
"You got the king-" "Shh. And yeah, I did. He's just a softie. Inside and out."

Spade snorted softly. "I never met him. I.. remember seeing him once? Very long time ago, if you can even call it seeing him. It was a big crowd?"
"Public address?" Sans asked.
"I'm pretty sure it was. Do you remember anything from then? Or were you too young?"