My first Undertale fic! Read rate & enjoy. Special thanks to Zeragii for proof-reading it. 3

"See ya!" a shrill voice called from behind.

Frisk turned around and waved back with a smile.

The pleasant scent of alpine needles and snow hung fresh in the air. Today was a day well spent, in her opinion. They built snowmen, snow dogs, snow forts, and they even had a snowball fight… just good old fashioned snowy fun. But now it was getting late, and it was about time to head back to town.

She was merely a child, no older than seven. With burgundy hair and soft black eyes. She was well-dressed in clothes suitable for an enormous, frigid cavern. She trotted along a now familiar road, drawing playful lines into freshly fallen snow with her stick.

Despite the whole 'underground scenario' she now lived in, the air here was crisp and clean. The ceiling of the cave provided a plentiful of openings for fresh air to run through, and the land was even suitable enough for the area to grow an entire forest naturally.

Last night there was an avalanche on the mountain above. This didn't happen often, but when it did, snow would come pouring through openings into Ebott, and dwindle down into the underground. Now the forest inside was thick with fresh white snow, which made it several degrees colder, as well.

Normally, avalanches meant disaster for those few foolish enough to climb the treacherous mountain, but for those who lived below it, it simply meant new snow. And new snow had yet to be unwelcome around here. Though some residents did wish the scarce routes they had wouldn't always disappear under it all. They worked hard to keep them clear during these times, but some heavy lumps fell from the branches and landed on the roads later on anyway. Frisk playfully kicked one such lump with her foot as she passed it, watching it explode and then fall to the ground a flat heap, giggling gleefully.

She would be reaching their meeting place soon. At the first bridge she would come across, just like they had agreed to. She couldn't wait to see them again. They were so goofy, and fun, and great to talk with.

Passing one last sentry station, then entering a small glade, and there was where she found them. The two animate skeletons were standing nearby that old wooden bridge, and they were waiting for her. One was tapping its foot impatiently. The other glanced around calmly, taking in its surroundings with hollow eyes.

Actually, these skeletons weren't animate —they were in fact very much alive. Fleshless bodies supported by their magic and mind.

They were monsters. Not the kind that hid under a child's bed or in the closet, waiting to pounce them in their sleep. Frisk knew now those monsters were just imaginary. These monsters however, were real and they were kind, loving and compassionate. These monsters, who along with every monster on earth, once lived peacefully together with humans, but one day, after a long war, were banished from the surface and now lived here, in the underground, trapped deep below the great mountain Ebott.

The first, impatient skeleton was lithe and towered at an impressive height. He was equally bombastic as he was loud, with a strange fascination for spaghetti that could be deemed worrisome in some people's eyes. He wore self-made armor – a white shirt adorned with badges covered his ribcage, stuffed with cotton or some other filling substance to make himself look more buff. This was then accented with a black bodysuit pulled taut on his bony limbs. The suit's finishing touch was his signature coquelicot-red scarf, and sturdy snow boots and gloves in the same color. Though he tried to look heroic, as he did think of himself a hero, he really was just a kind, bighearted goof who saw good in everyone. He had, somehow, an annoyed expression on his bony face.

The second skeleton was more languid. At no more than half the other's size. He was also a lot more compact. Dressed with simply a blue hooded coat, a slightly crinkled white shirt, black sweat shorts and old untied sneakers, he wore a permanent comedic but content grin on his face, just like in those scenarios where parents would warn their children that if you constantly made a weird face, it could threaten to lock up and be stuck that way forever. Small, brightly lit pin-pricks that served as his eyes rested in large tired eye sockets like candles.

These two skeletons, Papyrus and Sans, were brothers. Sans was the older of the two. They were the only skeletons known to live in these frozen ranges, the rest of the area mostly occupied by furrier monsters and other creatures that preferred a life in the cold. It wasn't really a surprise for skeleton monsters to choose to live here, either. After all, they lacked the nerves to feel much, so the cold didn't really bother them unless it got really extreme. Frisk did sometimes wonder if there were more like them around. Seeing as they didn't mind any weather, they were probably content living just about anywhere under Ebott. From the frigid Snowdin, to the sweltering heat of the Hotlands.

As Frisk continued approaching the two, Sans caught sight of her, and he raised an arm to give a light tap of his elbow against Papyrus' leg. Sans didn't say a word, instead letting his younger brother do the talking when he too noticed the tiny human. Papyrus lit up and immediately, he bellowed the laugh of a winner.

"There you are, human!" he called out cheerfully. But he was quick to set a more serious tone. The tall skeleton walked towards her, crossing his arms like a concerned parent. "What kept you so long? We were getting worried about you!"

"Any longer and Papyrus would have started rattling out of concern," Sans joked. He caught up to the others on his own slower pace.

"Well, I was getting worried..." Papyrus corrected, groaning internally at his brother's careless nature. "I cannot say the same for him." Sans just chuckled and raised his shoulders in a shrug.

"Take it easy bro, the kid's fine. You worry too much."

"In case you didn't notice, Sans," Papyrus countered, "I read in the library that humans are very sensitive to extreme temperatures! You can't leave them out for too long."

Sans snickered. "Don't you mean the librarby?"

"Be serious!"

Sans glanced back at Frisk, clad in the warm winter-fit clothes donated by some of Snowdin's local residents. A cobalt-blue scarf, yellow snow boots, a thick soft jacket in the shade of neon orange… All of this made for a colorful and hardly stylish combination, but it was the thought and functionality that mattered. His smile became a twinge wider, a glimmer of opportunity shining in his eyes. The little girl just couldn't help but smile back. She recognized that look. Sans was ready to break out the big guns.

"Yeah, you're right," he said as he turned to face Papyrus again. "Snow way all these clothes will protect her for long. It'd sock if she got a bad cold."

His audience of two was split between uncontrollable giggling and apprehensive groaning.

"Sans, please, not the puns," sighed an irritated Papyrus.

"C'mon Pap, chill." The grin on the stout skeleton's face stretched yet another inch wider. He stuffed his hands into his pockets after that, looking smug and completely satisfied with himself.

Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed in defeat. "Either way, I'm going to be late for my training. I wanted to show Undyne my newly found skills. I expect you to take Frisk home like a responsible monster!" He stopped and pondered for a moment.

"And do not stop by Grillby. I'll be cooking tonight," he added afterwards.

"Alright. Good luck, bro."

"The Great Papyrus does not need luck, dear brother!" Papyrus laughed, striking a pose before he turned and headed off.

As the younger skeleton left, the older's smile slowly went back to what was deemed normal to him. Frisk glanced up to Sans, him being but a head taller than her. She watched small fogs of breath escape between his teeth in a relaxed rhythm. She wasn't sure how skeleton monsters worked, exactly. They ate and breathed and slept like anyone else, even if the breathing part wasn't really that necessary. She could only assume they it did around others to give less of a 'dead' impression.

Eventually, Sans looked down to find the little human staring at him intently. "Heh." He winked, lifting one hand out of his pocket, setting it down on her head and giving it a light pat. The little girl started waving her hands around, signing out a question. It proved a little difficult with gloves on, but she didn't feel like taking them off and getting cold fingers. It resulted in a sloppy 'New skills?'

He blinked, eyes following her hands' motions and taking a moment to process the message. "Oh. Yeah." He retracted his hand from Frisk's head and stuffed it back in his pocket.

"Papyrus has been looking to get better at fighting. You know, to impress Undyne," he explained. "He decided to study some more magic. Turns out the orange kind works best for him." Sans smiled fondly at that. "He showed me some tricks. He's really good at it, too. Betcha he'll have it all figured out by the end of the week."

Well, unlike his cooking. But Sans decided to keep that commentary to himself this time. Papyrus only meant well, and it made him happy. There wasn't any reason to take that happiness away from him.

Now it was his turn to ask a question. "So, did ya have fun out there?"

Frisk hummed, nodding her head cheerfully.

"Cool," said Sans. "We can bring you there again next week if ya want."

That was right. This was her first time joining on a local tradition of Snowdin Town, where after school time, the monster children went out into the forest to play in the snow. Today just happened to be a lucky new-snow day, too.

While the kids had their fun, The sentries kept a watchful eye for any trouble, some of them even playing along. Sometimes when he had the time to spare, Papyrus joined too. Then, later in the midday, the parents, done with work for the day, would arrive and take their children home for supper. This was all just a typical Wednesday afternoon. For the time being, the skeleton brothers were fostering Frisk, providing her a roof and food in their house. Just until she was ready to venture deeper into the underground. So they only found it appropriate to introduce her to such an event.

Besides, one couldn't just leave a seven-year old human child all on their lonesome in the underground. And that's why Papyrus decided she could stay for a few weeks. Sans was not someone to disagree on good intentions, and Frisk happily accepted the brothers' offer.

They turned, ready to walk back to town. Sans looked at the bridge before them, pondering. Maybe it was a better idea to hold Frisk by the hand for this part. He knew, after snow days, these old well-used bridges, if left uncleaned overnight became treacherous. And while he had at least a few years of slippery experience at his benefit, Frisk had close to none. And with inexperience come accidents. He held his hand out to the child and with mutual understanding, Frisk agreed to hold it.

Surely enough, the girl's feet slipped on the surface while attempting to cross the bridge. She yelped, catching the skeleton by surprise and almost making him lose balance with her. Sans managed to stay upright and his grip stayed firm, however, and he quickly pulled her back up to her feet with practiced ease.

"Whoa, kid, careful there." he warned with an uneasy laugh. "Let's not have a skate party without Papyrus around. He'd get upset missing it."

Frisk gave him an annoyed look.

Sans chuckled. "Aw, c'mon, bud. I've got ya. Just take slow, easy steps."

The skeleton then guided the human over the remainder of the bridge. The tensed child eased up once more once she was back on the road, but didn't seem to want to let go of Sans' hand just yet. He didn't mind. There wasn't much to this part of the area. Trees on one side, and a wide ditch, perhaps running about fifteen feet downhill, on the other. A large river, the one often used for public transport, was at the bottom. Some freshly dropped snow hills and foot imprints of travelers dotted the road itself. No more bridges for at least a while, but Sans knew they'd be crossing at least a few more on the way home. He toyed around with the idea of using one of his so-called shortcuts, even if Papyrus didn't usually approve of them.

He didn't exercise enough, is what his brother would say. Well, in Sans' opinion, he did exercise; he exercised his magic by creating shortcuts. But to Papyrus, that wasn't good enough.

Oh well.

But while he was in thought, he hadn't accounted for a surprise drop down the snow-coated ditch.

They had no chance to respond. It went so fast. Sans first heard a crack — branches snapping, perhaps — the noise was muffled away under a pile of snow they stepped on. With only that warning that was far too late, Frisk's footing had vanished. A startled squeal, and the small hand in his own locked up tight as suddenly a dead weight was pulling at his arm. It made him lose balance as well.

Then they both rolled downhill. Snow bloomed behind them and chased them down like a miniature avalanche.

Sans fell face-flat, again into the all-too familiar white, when he stopped, a small pile of the same stuff rolling over his back when it had caught up. A pounding ache coursed through his bones, but he was glad it was just that. A broken or dislocated bone would have hurt much worse than this, so he was sure that wasn't the case. His skull rang, but he still heard a sound pierce through. A scream. There was no hand in his own anymore.

He planted his weight into his arms and lifted himself, shaking his head to clear it of snow. They tripped on something, and fell the whole way down to the nearby river, but while he'd just landed safely on the ground, Frisk had tumbled down a bit further, straight into the freezing currents. Sputtering, struggling, crying for aid. She couldn't fight the river's rapid pull. Sans felt the life in his face leech away at the sight. "Oh, shit!"

He shot up to his feet. Her head disappeared under the water's surface.

"Kid!" he cried.

He ran until the water was up to his knees and tried to reach, but the child was already too deep in. He still tried plunging his arm down into the water, going as far until wetness reached his chin, even though the currents were pulling the child deeper away, too far for even his magic to reach anymore. Panic and despair started to fill his mind when he remembered his promise.

He did promise. He promised that lady behind the stone door that he would look after the kid, and he went and failed this easily. This is why he hated making promises; even if he kept them, something was bound to go wrong.

No. Lousy excuse, Sans huffed at himself. It wasn't too late yet; he could fix this.

The skeleton monster didn't even waste time to take off any clothing. Without thinking twice, he collected his magic and focused on a location inside the river, hoping to have a good guess of the human's whereabouts, and with a blink, he was there.

In an instant he was pulled along, water streaming through and into him, with bubbles and pockets of air escaping through the openings of his eye sockets and nose. That wasn't the worst part though. The cold bit sharply at the pinpricks of light that were his eyes, forcing him to wince at the sensation and shut them tight. He barely resisted the urge to rub his fists into his sockets. His bones were far more resolute, facing the frigid temperature without problem. He didn't quite expect the painful reaction from his eyes, though. After all, it wasn't like he took ice-dips like this on a daily basis just for kicks.

Still, if he was to find Frisk, he would have to start looking. So he adamantly forced them open. It stung so hard that the light in his eye sockets almost flickered out like dying flames, and all he could see was a blend of blurred colors. A dirty palette of grays and blues and blacks and browns, lit only by what the underground could provide. God, the stinging, it's so painful – Sans grit his teeth, and couldn't help but wonder if he might go blind from this kind of exposure.

Come on, kid… where are you? Dread continued to fill his entire being as the seconds went by.

Eventually, something that resembled the shade of orange and yellow caught his sight. Yes. Yes! If he had the air to do so he would have shouted! Immediately he focused on the object as he extended his hand out to it. A brilliant deep blue magic bled out from his fingertips, reaching outwards and shifting gravity wherever it went.

Some of the magic leaked away along with the river's powerful currents, but most reached and embraced the object of interest. Sans then pulled it back with a beckoning motion of his hand, and soon, he started recognizing the distinct silhouette of a body drifting to him. It really was Frisk. He allowed his magic to dissipate, grabbing on to the fragile form. And now that he had the chance to see her face, he felt horrible. Even through his painful, blurry vision, he could tell she was running out of what little air she had. Out of panic she thrashed around, feebly kicking her feet and pounding her fists against his chest, unaware it was really him.

Sans couldn't really blame her, but still wished she wouldn't do that.

When Sans was sure he had a good grip on the child, he gave his eyes a rest and willed himself to teleport again. Preferably as far away from any body of water as possible. But this time, his magic responded not the way he'd anticipated. His left eye began to flash and crackle painfully. It hurt. So much that it broke his concentration and nearly made him lose his grip on the human.

Sans cursed and growled at himself. Of all the times for my magic to stop working, NOW had to be it. Damn it!

Now they were at the river's mercy, the currents tossing and pulling and pushing them around. A few times Sans felt his back scrape against the rocky bottom. Damn it, again! At least they had thick clothes protecting them. He placed a hand over Frisk's head, hoping it would somewhat protect her against any head collisions she may receive.

Eventually, the currents eased around him. He'd dearly hoped they just entered a stagnant section. He decided on opening his eyes again, if only for a moment, to determine his location. The water had indeed stopped moving, leaving a much clearer sight. He could see the rocks below and a weak light filtering blearily above. His eyes were screaming at him at this point.

Now that he had an idea of what direction to go, he began to kick his feet, aiming for the light above. His skull bumped against a solid, slippery surface.

What? No…You've gotta be kidding me!

Desperately the phalanges of his fingers scratched against the wall. Ice? Seriously? Ice?! They were trapped! Frustration made Sans curse words in his mind even he wouldn't dare say out loud if he could. He swung and gave the wall an aggressive kick. It didn't do a thing.

Something had to be done soon. The kid was probably on the verge of going unconscious. And for humans, that's when things got dangerous. He couldn't let that happen. Even when humans were supposed to be the enemy, this was a mere child. And he had made a promise. Maybe a foolish one, at that, but still it was a promise. He was going to keep this kid alive no matter what.

And what about him? He never really thought about what might happen to him if he stayed down here for much longer. He knew definitely skeletons could not die from a lack of air.

Suddenly, a distressed voice from above, distorted by the water, caught his attention.

Sans cracked open an eye socket, the freezing water biting at it fiercely. Through the thick glassy surface that held them trapped underneath, a shadow loomed above. A fiery-orange object glowed bright in the silhouette's form, heaving it high over its head, then bringing it down fast to slam against the surface. This was repeated a few times, the smashing noise sounding dull and full of bass through Sans' waterlogged skull. Until, finally, after the fifth attempt, an orange-lit femur bone broke through. Papyrus' new attack, Sans managed to piece together.

What a genius move — Orange magic was most effective against unmoving objects. And with Sans still kicking his legs to keep close to the surface, he was moving constantly. The attack could not hurt them even if it did hit.

The bone kept pounding at the newly-made hole for a few times, just until Papyrus was sure the two trapped underneath could fit through. His movements were fast and calculated, and soon he cast his weapon aside, knelt as low as he could, and brought a long arm into the depths, grabbing Sans tightly by his coat. Sans responded by letting his hand go of the ice that he had hung onto moments ago, instead gripping his brother's arm and clinging onto him like a lifeline.

With a swift, forceful tug, Papyrus pulled the both of them out of the river. He dragged them back onto solid ground.

For a few seconds, Sans just let himself lay limp in the snow, his exhaustion overtaking him. His brother made frantic inaudible noises, tugging at his clothes and calling his name, he thinks? It wasn't until a few more seconds had passed, that he felt something shake against his chest and heard a child's coughing that he remembered, sat up and pried his eyes open again. The water that spilled out of his eye sockets took him by surprise.

The both of them were absolutely drenched. Frisk was alive and still breathing on her own… Thank God.. Sans embraced the child a bit closer, letting her head rest on his shoulder, but making sure she had room to breathe. That's right, he mused, patting her back gently while she coughed, gasped for great amounts of air, and finally, started crying. He never imagined it was such a relief to hear a child cry. It's okay. You're okay. Just let it out. Breathe.

More frantic noises from his brother, but this time he could make out the words. "Are you two OK? Please talk to me! Sans!"

"We're alive," Sans managed to utter. He did realize that if they lingered here, Frisk would soon not be. Papyrus knew, too, no doubt. It was a good idea to get her to warmth quickly, so he poured what strength he had into his legs and slowly stood up, leaning slightly into his brother helping him.

"I heard a splash, and then there was shouting," Papyrus continued as he helped Sans stand. "I mean, it's not unusual for a pile of snow to drop from trees into the river, but I'm sure snow doesn't scream. So I decided to investigate!"

"…Bro," Sans smiled. "You're the best. Let's hurry home." Standing back on his feet now, with Frisk supported on one arm, Sans gripped Papyrus' arm with his free hand, and sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. He focused his magic a second time, this time attempting to teleport back to town, or at least as far as he could manage. But, yet again… He suddenly doubled over, wincing in pain. His left eye surged a pale blue and yellow smoke and stung as though it was being gouged out with a knife.

"Sans?" Papyrus followed his brother's motions, kneeling down and lifting his free hand with a worried gesture. Papyrus hated this so. He hated seeing his friends like this. He hated seeing anyone like this.

"Heh…ha ha," the short skeleton laughed feebly. He rubbed his sore eye, then blinked a few times until the violent flickering settled. "Sorry."

Papyrus frowned. "No shortcuts?"

Sans shook his head. "No shortcuts," he repeated slowly. "New plan."

He lowered back down until he kneeled and rested Frisk in his lap, then started unbuttoning her coat. He took off her boots. Everything. They were useless now, in fact they worked against keeping her alive now.

Admittedly, the thought that he was undressing a small child that didn't even belong to him did ring a little nuts in his skull. But her clothes were fat with water and ice-cold, like his own. And though he didn't quite feel cold the same way as most other creatures did, it did put a number on him. He felt like he had become slower too, but he shrugged it off, blaming the water soaked in his clothes that made them heavier. Skeletons are very resilient, while humans and most other monsters, for that matter… They were much more sensitive to extremities like these. Now the child shivered, threatening to give out under his frozen touch and the chilling air.

"Pap, I need—"

Sans didn't need to finish the question. Papyrus was well aware; the taller skeleton had knelt down beside his brother, his fire-red scarf already removed from his neck and in his hands, ready to offer it. Sans lit up when he saw his younger brother aid him without question. Knowing well and exactly what the situation asked for.

After the wet clothes were cast aside, Sans handed his brother the small human, not wanting to let his own cold make her any worse. And Papyrus carefully wrapped her in the dry rag. When the tall skeleton stood again with a bundled up ball of fragile life in his arms, his face curled up into a worried frown. One Sans had rarely seen and hoped he'd never had to see again. The brothers shared mutually concerned glances with one another.

"Don't worry, human," the younger brother cooed. "We will get you to our house. There you will be safe and warm. I promise." He turned his face again toward Sans, looking awfully concerned. Sans returned the gesture with a sloppy but reassuring smile.

"You run ahead, bro," the older brother said. He bent over and began to pick up Frisk's frozen clothes. "I'll just slow ya down. Kid needs to get to warmth, ASAP."

Sans was right, Papyrus knew that. Yet after what had happened, he didn't want to leave his brother like that. His thick, baggy clothes were soaked, heavy, and probably just as cold as the ones he was collecting from the snow right now. His brother's magic system was in a twist after all that happened as well. To the point where he couldn't even use it anymore. Skeletons are very resilient, but they too had their limits. The tall skeleton was fearful that his brother had just reached his. "Sans," Papyrus hesitated.

"The human needs you, Pap," urged Sans. "I'll see you at home." He gave him a reassuring wink.

Papyrus sighed, the frown not leaving his face. But when a small cough just below his chin caught the openings of his non-existent ears, his motivation jumped. Before he left, though, he quickly dug into the pocket of his shirt and brought out his phone. Sans' phone was no doubt broken, so he handed it to him. "At least keep this with you. Then you can call if anything happens."

"Will do."

It was a good thing he grew to be so tall. His long legs and strong snow boots let him cross the tundra with much ease. He gave a firm nod to his brother, then with a swift turn of his heel, and less than six big strides, Papyrus was out of sight, off to Snowdin Town.

Though his smile crooked slightly after that, Sans was happy. He was glad his brother was such a kind, understanding soul. A better sibling he couldn't have asked for. He looked down at Papyrus' cellphone in his hand. A still pretty new device, flimsy and jet black in color. A recent purchase. Since previously he inherited Sans' old phone. And that one was indeed starting to get very old. Sans kept the thin object in one hand and eventually resumed picking up the human's clothes at a sluggish pace with the other.

When he was sure he had everything, he began the trek home. It was more difficult than he had expected, to set one step ahead of the other when all of his joints crushed ice crystals between them like grinding mills. He was cold and tired. His clothes were heavy with the added weight of frozen water. His eyes were watery and sore and his skull felt like it was stuffed with cotton. To top it all off, he was suddenly sleepy. So, so sleepy…

The further he walked, the slower he became. The slower he became, the drowsier he felt. In a resigned breath, he stopped listlessly to stare at the nearest pine. It looked awfully comfortable at this point. Perhaps, if he took just a five-minute break, he would have a chance to restore his magic enough to teleport all the way back to town. If not, well, then at least he got a bit of rest out of it. He trudged up to the thick tree with renewed resolve, and let his back lean against it, the clothes of Frisk placed carefully in his lap. The hand with Papyrus' phone also rested there. "Just five minutes," he breathed slowly. Not long after, his eyelids slipped shut without him noticing.

He was rudely awakened again by a slab of snow falling down the tree's branches, splatting down on his forehead. Sans grunted, then blinked dumbly. Wait, what? He stared out. It started snowing again. Soft snowflakes dwindled down around him, and a thin layer of snow had already formed on his limbs. Oh man. He fell asleep, didn't he? How long has it been?

No time to think about that, he quickly realized as he took in his surroundings, remembering everything that happened. He should definitely have been home by now. Papyrus would be worried sick if he didn't come home soon, if he wasn't worried sick already.

He willed to shift his legs to stand up, but they didn't respond.

Huh? He tried that again. No answer, not even a twitch. They felt oddly numb.

His kneecaps must be stuck again, he concluded. It happened, sometimes. He wanted to raise a hand and reach out to them, just to give them a good slap and force them back into place. But the hand didn't reply to his request either. It remained locked in place, refusing to move like it had a will of its own.

Oh... Now he was getting concerned. He realized that he felt the same numbness everywhere in his bones. He wanted to look around, but even his head refused to listen. The alarmed skeleton's breath began to hitch in response of his distress. His eyes flicked back and forth, taking in whatever information they could. There was a crust of rime on the bones that remained exposed, and his clothes were decorated with glittering, crystalized water and snow. The lights of his eyes dimmed and flickered regretfully when the realization dawned upon him. "Shit," he hissed.

He instinctively resorted to his escape option, activating his inner magic for a shortcut. Once again, it replied with an unpleasant reminder surging up his spine and straining his eyes, making him muffle a pained yelp and leaving him sore.

He was frozen solid.

This was definitely a problem…

Papyrus paced around the living room impatiently. Every so often, he checked the kitchen to see if the third kettle of water had started boiling yet. He'd done a tremendous job warming up the human, who was now sitting on the couch in her donated pajamas, wrapped in an abundance of blankets, and sniffing away with a cup of hot coco in her hands and a box of tissues at her side. Her eyes were still moist from her trauma, and her nose was dripping, but she was definitely better than she was moments before. Obviously, the poor child had been scared to wits by the incident.

So, in a fit of panic, Papyrus ran to town faster than he ever had imagined he could. By the time he was home, he immediately dried her off with a towel. He spent the rest of his time feeling exhausted, sitting uneasily on the couch with her in his lap and keeping her bundled in blankets like an infant until a healer came by on his frantic request. Someone who had enough experience in caring for the weak that she could pass off as a healer anyway.

As beings made mostly of magic, monsters hardly had any experience with sickness, so there weren't many doctors around. But the healer had worked her magic and then announced the human was going to be okay. There was risk of getting a fever, so just in case, she recommended a week's worth of warmth and rest before letting her out of the house again.

While the good news relieved Papyrus, his worries didn't end there. Sans had not come home. It had been nearly an hour since they separated. Papyrus' mind spun with the dreadful possibilities of what may have happened.

He tried calling him. Several times, in fact. In none of the attempts Sans answered the phone. Maybe he'd lost it? 'No,' Papyrus shook his head. Sans could be careless, but not careless enough to just lose someone else's belongings.

One more try. If he doesn't pick up then… He snatched the house phone off its stand one last time and shifted through the contacts, finally settling on and selecting the number accompanied with Papyrus' name. His thumb tapped the call option, and he drew the phone close to where his ear would be.

Ring.

Pick up, please…

Ring.

Come on…

Ring…

"Sans, this isn't funny. Just pick up already," he found himself whimpering softly.

Oh, shoot. Why didn't he think about sending someone to check on Sans? The panicked state he was in made him overlook so many things. "Darn it! Darn it, darn me!" he hissed to himself.

Three more rings, and Papyrus canceled the call with a defeated sigh. Frisk set her empty mug down at the coffee table and clapped her hands together, catching the tall skeleton's attention. For a moment, a small smile lit up on Papyrus' face at seeing how much better she already looked. Of course, she was still far from her old self, but then Frisk started gesturing with her hands.

'What is keeping Sans?' she signed.

"I don't know," said Papyrus, letting his shoulders slump after putting the phone back to where it belonged. "I have a bad feeling about this… I should go look for him."

Frisk agreed by nodding her head quickly.

"Come on then, I'll bring you to your bed."

Frisk puffed her cheeks in disapproval, crossing her arms. It was obvious she wanted to come with him.

The skeleton gave her a stern glare, crossing his arms as well. "You heard the good lady, human. You must get as much rest as you can. The great Papyrus cannot and shall not risk that you get in a worse condition! So you are absolutely not going outside."

There were no more objections after that. He quickly tucked her into her guest bed and then rummaged through some of his stuff to find back the old battered phone he used to have. It was a small but sturdy, human-made phone they once found in the dumpster from when they were much younger. Some parts, such as the batteries, had to be salvaged elsewhere, but after Sans fixed it up, it still worked today. It was something special, so even after Papyrus got a new phone, he didn't have the heart to throw it away. And good thing he didn't. He now could call Sans with this while searching for him.

On his way out of town, Papyrus continued dialing in hopes that Sans would finally pick up. He made a quick stop by Grillby's restaurant just to make sure. He opened the door and stood there, taking a glance left and right. Not here. The patrons, a variety of different monsters, stared at the skeleton in bewilderment, wondering if he was actually going to enter. Maybe raise his loud voice and ask if his brother has been here. But instead, he just stood there with the door wide open, staring vacantly for no apparent reason.

"Do you mind?" one of the patrons, a dog-like monster, growled. "You're letting the cold in!"

"Looking for Sans?" asked another. "We haven't seen—"

The skeleton left abruptly and the door slipped back shut on its own, leaving even the bartender gob-smacked.

Papyrus was actually kind of bit glad not to have found Sans there. Or else he swore he would have seriously kicked his tailbone to the other end of the underground! However, this still left him with the dreaded question where he really was.

If Sans isn't home like promised, or at Grillby's as NOT promised, then there's only one other logical option, Papyrus thought to himself. He must still be back in the forest…

And there he indeed found him, propped up against a tree not far from the location of the incident and… he was asleep?! The phone in his hand rang futilely. A fat layer of snow on his head, shoulders and lap seemed to indicate he'd been sitting there a while.

Papyrus couldn't stop himself from being infuriated. He said he would see me at home, and what does he do? He decides to take a nap and make me go sick with worry!? The tall skeleton stomped angrily, muttering to himself until he finally came up to the snoozing brother.

"Sans! I should have known!" He clamped his hands into Sans' arms, ready to give him a shake and scold him. But then he found that his fingers wouldn't dig into his padded sleeves. His clothes were in fact oddly stiff and glistening an unusual sheen. He couldn't even shake his normally slack and lazy bag-of-bones brother. "What the—" Papyrus pulled his hands back, taken aback. "Sans?"

Sans groaned, unmoving but putting obvious effort into opening his eyes. The normally bright white lights in his sockets now strained to give off an unhealthy glow. Sans managed to crack a half-assed grin when his eyes flitted up and saw Papyrus. "H-hey bro," he greeted. "K-kept you w-waitin', huh?"

"What happened to you?" asked Papyrus. His hands reached out to touch Sans' cheeks, trying to lift his head to meet his eyes better. But just like his clothes, his neck refused to bend, and it made Sans wince instead. "You're somehow petrified, Sans! Why!?"

Sans' eyes flicked guiltily to the side for a moment. He seemed hesitant to answer. Then, he saw Papyrus' face suddenly going paler than he ever thought possible. His jaw hung and hands trembled as things started clicking into place.

"W-what's the matter, P-Pap?" Sans tried hard to laugh. "Am I giving you chills?"

Alright, that was badly timed.

"Sans, stop it!" exclaimed a shocked, tearful Papyrus. He quickly began shoving away the snow off Sans' head and shoulders. The cold had seeped into his bone marrow so deep that Sans didn't even feel the touch. This was how humans and other monsters experienced cold? Well, hat's off to those people, because holy shit, is it terrifying. And his little brother looked so very upset that it made his soul twist painfully in his chest.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I t-thought I could… just sit down a second, y' know… recharge my batteries… and… well… heh. Y-you know me…" Suddenly his grin faltered, and his eyes scrunched further with regret. "I'm so sorry, Papyrus."

"Say no more, you big idiot." Papyrus' voice lowered to a softer tone as he said so. "You're wasting your energy." The younger brother continued shoveling away as much snow as he could so he could pick up his brother's frozen body. It took some strength and effort getting Sans to stop clinging unwillingly to that tree, and when Papyrus finally broke him free, it took the young brother by surprise, tumbling back and losing his balance. He also found that Sans was heavier than usual.

Sans would have probably joked about that. 'Water weight', or something along those lines. But he didn't, which worried Papyrus all the more. With Sans in tow, Papyrus broke into a run and headed home again.

When Papyrus kicked the door to their house wide open with one snow-covered boot, the heat wafting from indoors hit Sans' ice-infused bones like a brick. A boiling-hot brick, at that. He'd never imagined there was so much cold in him that a simple, pleasant warmth could suddenly become hell, and that made him wince. Thankfully, the sensation became a little more pleasant shortly after his brother laid him down on the couch as comfortably as he possibly could be in his frozen state. Papyrus unintentionally told him to stay put while he rushed into the kitchen.

Sans' eyes drooped, feeling too drowsy to come up with a witty response anymore. He just didn't care; all he wanted was sleep. With the warmth of home and the distant sound of running water lulling him, even the pain in his eyes couldn't keep him from drifting off anymore, and in record speed he was already snoozing his worries away.

The next moment he woke, Sans heard quiet chatter from the television, along with the familiar soft buzz it emitted. He recognized it as one of Mettaton's shows; a cooking program, and a rerun, too. They were making omelettes.

Sans slept through that one quite a few times. It was oddly soothing. His head felt light and fuzzy, and the pain in his eyes had dulled into a much lighter sore. He figured that this was just the aftermath. Fumbling slightly, he could tell that Papyrus had moved him around in his sleep. Those frozen clothes he had previously worn were gone, and now he was in a dry shirt and a spare pair of sweat shorts. He felt a strong heat radiating from underneath him, – aw, he filled a hot water bottle just for him? – while a thick bed sheet kept that warmth imprisoned, chasing away any chills that still clung to his bones.

It felt nothing short of awesome.

After about thirty minutes of reveling in comfort, a different, yet familiar sensation nagged at him. Ugh. All that talk of eggs, and he was feeling famished. He offhandedly thought about baking eggs, himself, but then remembered that he should check if he could move again first.

He started off with his neck, craning it around carefully and testing its limits. So far so good. He was definitely more mobile than before. He then rolled his shoulders… Stretched an arm. Other arm… Legs, and soon enough, his spine creaked blissfully before he let his body go slack again, limbs spread lazily all over the couch. He had never been so happy to move those lazy limbs before.

Suddenly, something pushed his legs away, and a sharp voice that was unmistakably his brother's followed right after.

"Hey! Keep those bones on your side, couch-hogger!" Finally cracking open his eye sockets, Sans turned his head and sent Papyrus, who sat on his side of the sofa with a book in his hands, a mischievous, silly grin. Immediately, Papyrus' features softened, relieved at the sight that his brother was smiling – a genuine 'feeling better' sort of smile. Sans' eyes flicked away for a moment, checking the time on the T.V.'s channel display. It was past 9 already? It's no wonder he was hungry – he completely missed dinner! When his eyes returned to meet Papyrus again, his smile grew a fraction wider. He let out a long yawn.

"Ya missed Undyne's extra private, one-on-one training." said the older brother teasingly.

"I called off for today. The human's health, and yours, are more important than my training." Papyrus set the book down on his armrest. "Or showing Undyne what new cool stuff I can do with my magic."

"Is the kid okay?"

"Naturally. She is asleep in her guest bed now." Papyrus suddenly smiled giddily. "I gave her the extra warm blankets and provided her soup. I didn't have the time to make any spaghetti, so I had to use canned soup instead… But! I made sure to use the one with extra vermicelli. With my care, the human is sure to recover!"

Phew. "Okay, good to hear. Well done—"

"As for you, brother," Papyrus interrupted, his voice suddenly turning stern, "I spoke to the healer again through the phone to ask what I should do about you. Here are the rules: you're not going anywhere for at least a week; not one step outside the house! And don't even think about shortcuts! Using your magic is strictly forbidden! You've strained it and it needs time to recover."

Sans shrugged. "So just do what I usually do? Noted."

"And no Grillby's." Papyrus squinted.

Aw, geez.

"By the way, when you used your orange attack…" Sans gave Papyrus an approving nod. "That was really clever. I'm proud of ya."

"What? R-really!? You truly mean it?"

"Why would I lie?" Sans smiled confidently. "Listen, next time when you see Undyne, you can use that to break the ice. She'll be so impressed, she won't be having doubts about making you a member of the Royal Guard anymore."

Suddenly Papyrus grinned gleefully, his face lighting up like a child's. Either the joke flew over his head from the shower of praise, or he was somehow excited to hear Sans cracking puns again.

"Actually, Papyrus… Can you do me one favor?"

"What is it?"

"Please don't ever try doing what I did back there," said Sans. "It was reckless and risky…"

"But…" Papyrus tried to retaliate, "What if it was you who fell into the river? Somebody would have to get you out, right? Who else but me?"

"Bro…"

"I was worried sick about you," the younger continued, his brow crinkling and a twinge of sadness clear in his voice. For a second Sans could have sworn he saw a tear roll down the skeleton's cheekbone. "I know you hate to admit it, Sans, but even in our childhood years you were frail."

"Papyrus…"

"If there's anyone who shouldn't ever be doing that, it's you, brother."

That last sentence made Sans swallow hard. Touché, he thought. He let his head lean back and closed his eyes in resignation.

At that point, the television entered a commercial break. The two brothers remained silent as the advertisements played. It must have been just five minutes, but to Sans, it might as well have been thirty. At least that gave him some time to think. Seeing Papyrus upset about something always made him feel bad. Especially if he was the one causing it. He knew it had to be done though. Otherwise, Frisk would have been gone now. And imagining his little brother, being locked up under a wall of ice like he had been… The thought alone sent shivers down his spine. Obviously, Papyrus must have felt the same way. How could he have been so blind?

The cooking show returned, and as the metal TV star made his re-entrance on the screen, Sans took a deep breath. He lifted his head again.

"You're right, bro. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Papyrus looked relieved. "I'm just glad you and Frisk are safe, in the end." Papyrus focused his gaze towards the T.V., pondering something. "You were brave to help her, and I'm glad you did, because it was the right thing to do. But please, don't put yourself into such dangers again." His voice became quiet, almost whimpering. "I don't think I could handle losing you."

Sans nodded empathetically. "Alright. I won't do it again."

"Then I promise I won't either! Unless it's an emergency, of course." With that, Papyrus grinned and let out a small 'nyeh', careful not to wake their houseguest.

Then the deal was sealed. Sans grinned right along with his brother until the mention of food caught his attention again.

"Hey, do you have any of that soup left?"