Shape of You

Chapter 13

An annoying ring buzzes on Grillby's phone. Upon his Caller ID, Sans was hitting him up twenty-seven times. This was costing battery, and Sans should know better than to spam his phone with so many calls.

"Ugh, if it's that important, he'll just come to me," Grillby sighed, rejecting the last call.

Then a sudden zap of light flashes in the bar, with Sans' going off his rocker. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?!" Sans hollered at his fire monster friend.

"I figured you would just pop in anyway," Grillby tsked at him and shook his head with disappointment.

"If you would look over here for one f*cking moment without polishing those damn glasses, you will see why I called so many times!" Sans was out of breath, as if he was at his peak point of his sanity.

Grillby turned, and once again dropped another expensive wine glass. He jumped over the counter and ran up to Sans, who carried Frisk's unconscious and fevered body in his arms.
"What the hell happened?!" Grillby said, brushing back Frisk's bangs to check her temperature.

"This isn't good, she's burning up bad. We need to cool her down now before her fever gets worse." Grillby ushered Sans to follow him upstairs behind the bar, into Grillby's apartment.

"Stacy, you're in charge of bar duty for the day!" Grillby yells for his assistant manager, who was helping serve customers across the bar.

"Okay!"

Gently, Sans settled Frisk down on Grillby's couch, while Grillby grabbed an ice pack to place on Frisk's forehead.

"She's not going to cool down with those heavy clothes on," Grillby stated. "You're gonna have to undress her Sans."

Sans hesitated. The thought of seeing Frisk... Like that, was something that was out of his own personal conduct. Especially in this kind of situation.

"C'mon Sans, don't be a coward! She needs to cool down," Grillby had to say again, making Sans flinch.

"Fine fine!" Sans yelled back, having no choice but to do this. Before he could do so, Grillby left the room for a moment, coming back with a large light white shirt, a box fan with an ice water bowl, and a hand towel.

Giving Sans a few minutes of piece, Sans reluctantly stripped Frisk down to her bra and underwear and wiped her sweat off. Then dressed Frisk with the shirt, while Grillby got the fan up and blowing air on her. As embarrassed as Sans was doing this, it was an emergency, so he really had no choice and no time to be flustered.

Every few minutes Sans had to wipe off the constant swear seeping from Frisk's pores. She was breathing heavily from the heat, and Grillby had to change the icepack every time Sans wiped away hear sweaty skin.

Though it took about an hour, Frisk's temperature was finally stable. Both Grillby and Sans sighed in relief, before putting a light blanket over her.

"Mind telling me what the hell just happened? Why didn't you take her to the hospital? Her fever was abnormal."

Sans rubbed the back of his skull, hoping to relieve some stress. He didn't know how to put it into words without making it sound like it was his fault, because he was careless on how he hid the photograph.

"That would've been too risky to take her there. This morning I heard a loud thud and found her like this. She found the picture..."

"What picture...?"

"The one of our past, when she was just a little kid.."

Silence filled the empty spaces of the room, only the sound of Frisk's peaceful breathing could be heard in the loudness of this piercing silence.