PATCHWORK SOUL

The Lonely Arc Chapter 7

The air outside was cold and brisk; kind of refreshing after the mostly windless Ruins. Frisk rubbed her hands together and blew on them quickly. She wished she still had her boots or a coat, but she knew she had to suck it up. She took a look around cautiously. When she had first come to the underground, Sans had snuck up from behind her, and yet she knew there wasn't really anywhere from him to have come from. He had either used his powers or was napping somewhere, either of which were fairly plausible.

There was a thick line of dark forest around her off the trail, framing the path, and not much else besides some bushes near the Ruin's entrance. Cautiously, she peeked inside. While there definitely wasn't a skeleton in there, she was surprised to find a camera. Curious, she bent in closer to look at it and the lens buzzed and moved almost as if retreating from her. She laughed and backed off. She couldn't believe, after passing through his gate three times before, that she had never seen it.

With one last look around, peeking in between tree trunks, she covered her hands with her sleeves and proceeded forward. She felt much more nervous now even than when she had encountered Asriel. Sans was a wildcard, always had been. She could never be sure how much he knew or didn't, and he was hard to pry answers out of. He had only really started being fully honest with her after their family had moved in together. That, and the fact that he was one of the people she loved most in the whole world certainly didn't help the cold feeling in her gut.

As she walked along the path, snow crunching underfoot, she was starting to make out the bridge with awkward wooden bars across it up ahead. She felt a tingling up her back. She skipped over a stick on the path; tried not to flinch when she heard it crack a few seconds later. She hurried ahead and was just about to make it to the bridge when she heard the footsteps in the snow behind her.

"Hey. Human."

She'd know that deep voice anywhere. She froze in place. There he was.

"Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand."

She wasn't sure if she could face him, but she tried to steady herself. She turned and slapped her hand into his, and instantly a farting sound started as he grinned back at her. Despite everything, she couldn't help but snicker. He shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed satisfied.

"Heh... The old whoopee cushion in the hand trick," he said. "It's always funny." He smiled, but there was a twinge of worry on his brow. "Can I be honest with you? You looked, uh, kinda like you were expectin' that."

Frisk's smile fell and she felt her cheeks flush a little. "Um... W-Would you be mad if I said I was?" she asked.

"Mad?" he repeated. "Nah. A bit confused, though."

Frisk's heart dropped. Sans was still grinning, but it seemed like the light in his eyes had gone out. Her mind rushed with panic— no hug, nothing? Did he not remember her? Where were they in the timeline? Was she even in her own timeline? Had she gone back too far? Her thoughts stumbled over themselves. She had been doing so well, and now doubt weighed her down like doubled gravity. Heartbroken, she pleaded with herself not to cry. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"It's... It's not what you think!" she said hurriedly. "I know it's... It's awful. It's just that something really bad happened on the surface and this was the only way to fix it. I'm so sorry."