You Can Never Go Home

ꜱɴᴏᴡᴅɪɴ

Two sets of boots crunched against the snow, each step leaving a clear imprint in the powder. Frisk, ever eager to be your guide, walked by your side, their expression neutral. A week has passed since you arrived in the Underground, and today marked the first time Papyrus allowed you to venture outside.

Not that you hadn't tried escaping multiple times, but the taller skeleton proved to be more observant than you gave him credit for, and each attempt ended in failure. He insisted you needed more time to heal, and it was only when you proved you could walk without wincing or stumbling that he finally let you go out.

The corners of your lips twitched upward as you glanced at Frisk, who animatedly shared tales of Snowdin as they gave you the 'official tour.' However, a genuine smile struggled to form, your senses buzzing with an undercurrent of tension. Instinctively, your grip tightened around the edges of your oversized jacket. Despite the captivating stories, the snow-covered landscape failed to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your core.

Ever since you landed in the Underground, there has been no sign of the Shadowbringer. Most people, most normal people, would be relieved, maybe even brushing off the danger completely. However, the fact only served to unnerve you, and if it weren't for Papyrus and Frisk, you would've searched all of the Underground by now. A light snore draws you away from your worries as you and Frisk approach a small stand. Slumped over the table, fast asleep, was none other than the older skeleton brother. His jacket moved with each inhale, his smile still in place as his snoring continued.

How does he snore or even breathe? He's a skeleton. You thought, moving to stand in front of the guard station.

*And here is where Sans works. Frisk told you, pointing at the slumbering monster. You smirked, stuffing your hands in your pocket.

"Oh yeah, he seems like he's doing loads of work." You quipped, the corners of your lips lifting in amusement as you watched Sans sleep. He shifts slightly, and you stiffen, only to relax when his snoring once again continues. To say your relationship with Sans was strained would be an understatement. Despite his attempt to play nice, it was obvious he didn't trust you in the slightest. He always kept a watchful eye on you, like he's worried you're gonna one day snap and kill everyone in the underground.

You understood it stemmed from your magic and humanity. Still, it irked you that he hates you because of something you couldn't help. In a way, it's hypocritical. Letting out a breath, you step back, letting your gaze fall to Frisk. Despite his hatred, you weren't going to stoop to his level.

"We should probably go before we wake him up," you suggested. "Got anything else you wanna show me?" Frisk nodded eagerly, rushing ahead without another word. You chuckled, briefly observing the child before chasing after them.

"Hey, Slow down, kid!" You shout after them, both laughing as you quickly rush to catch up. As you run, you don't notice the lidded socket that opens, white eye lights following your figure as you fade from view.

You both walked in silence through the thick wooded forest. The only sounds that dared to break the quiet were the crisp crunch of snow underfoot and the soft murmur of frozen branches. As the seconds passed and you both traveled closer to the unknown destination, you noticed the tiniest of changes in Frisk.

Their expression morphed into something more somber, brown eyes gazing into the distance. It was a haunting gaze you recognized all too well, that of someone ensnared in the clutches of their own memories. You bit the inside of your cheek, allowing the noise of the forest to wash over you like a thick blanket.

Something in the distance caught your attention, and your eyes widened slightly. Before, you were a colossal set of doors. Towering spirals of ancient stone framed the the entryway, reaching skyward, almost like outstretched fingers. The stones, weathered and aged, bore the marks of countless seasons, their surfaces etched with the proud scars of time. Despite the wear and tear, it wasn't crumbling by any means. It stood proudly, seeming unswayed by the snow and wind. You both stopped, one staring at the doors in confusion, the other in remembrance.