Chapter 01
Author's Note: So this is my first Undertale fanfiction as well as my first FriskxSans fanfiction. Unfortunately, I do not own Undertale or anything associated with it, all credit goes to Toby Fox and the amazing people he worked with. Obviously I'm not shipping them with her as a kid, that should go without saying, but you never know. I hope you all enjoy it and that will continue to read it as it goes on. So without further ado, the story.
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It had been almost ten years since he had first seen the sun descending beyond the horizon. It had been almost ten years since he had seen the stars for the first time. Frisk had said she wanted to see the stars with him. Despite the nervousness he carried then, he followed. He had been worried that what he had conjured in his mind of the vision of "stars" wouldn't match the real thing. He has been right. Sitting at the edge of the cliff that overlooked Ebott City he has thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. However, that was then and this was now. Now, he knew he was in trouble. Tapping his phalanges against the weathered teak of the bar he knew so well, he waited for Grillby to bring out his order. Sitting at the bar, surrounded by dark oak booths that sported the carmine cushions, decorating the edges of the restaurant section used to give him a sense of comfort. Key words "used to". Nothing in the world gave him comfort and ease right now. The warm chestnut of the bar at the front made him anxious, the light cinnamon of the floors filled him to his marrow of worry. He exhaled, more of a sigh actually, for what was probably the hundredth time in five minutes.
'what's takin' grillbs so long?' He thought. If he was giving him some time to think, honestly, that was the last thing he wanted or needed right now. Being alone to his thoughts was a one way ticket to making him smash his skull against the bar in a vain attempt to knock himself out. Knowing him though, he'd probably wouldn't be able to get away from his problems even in his dreams. No, that would actually be the worst place to be. In his dreams, he couldn't push his problems aside and focus on something else. He'd be forced to face his troubles head on, and when he woke up they would just slam into him harder. For the past--he wanted to say three years--he had these troubles. Nagging at the back of his skull every day had become tiring. In order to, for lack of a better word, combat these troubles constantly penetrating every thought he had, he chose... distractions. It was no secret among his friends--and some other monsters--that he had become promiscuous in an attempt to distract himself along with the constant extra supply of ketchup Grillby now had to constantly order. He wouldn't exactly say that he was a "ketchup-holic", but he's never acted like this before in his life. He had even resorted to using mustard on some occasions, which I'd you had offered him the stuff in the underground, he would've laughed at you. More than worrying, it aggravated him. Before, he had been content in his lazy life, not even getting enough incentive to clean his room. Now it was becoming different, albeit not completely nor constant. Papyrus almost had a SOUL attack when he moved a sock from the place it had been sitting for almost the whole time they had been on the surface. He had even checked to see if he was sick. Adding one more number to his sigh count, it seemed to be the magic number for Grillby had come from the back and sat the fries down in front of him.
"thanks grillbs..." Sans trailed off. Taking the bottle of ketchup, he put some on his fries and took a deep drink of some more from the bottle.
A concerned crackle of the fire elemental in front of him made him look up. Grillby had never really been one for conversation, only talking when something was really urgent. It was a trait that had confused most humans once he opened his bar on the surface as well as aggravated some others. Sans couldn't really fault him for not talking, Grillbs had always been more of a listener anyway, settling for an emotional crackle in response.
"yeah, i'm fine..."
Grillby adjusted his glasses, not taking his gaze away from Sans. His glare could practically pierce holes into you from how intense it could be.
"... i said i'm fine."
Another glare.
"and i'm supposed to do what about it?"
This time, Grillby was the one to pause. This crackle was thoughtful. He took his rag and began to wipe at the ever clean bar. Call it a 'tick' if you would, perhaps a way to clear his mind. Many a time, Grillbs would end up wiping down the bar at least twenty times before he answered a puzzling question.
"exactly." However, this time it was only around six times he wiped down the bar before looking at Sans once more. It seemed like he came to the conclusion faster than he, or Sans had expected. Adjusting his glasses again, he watched as Grillby gave his version of a sigh, sounding like a campfire.
"can you just get me another bottle, campfire?" He asked. Without taking his eye off of Sans, he reached under the counter and handed Sans another bottle. This time it was a warning crackle that came from his friend.
"... i'm fine." Sans assured. "and i don't have a problem." Grillby had stopped wiping the glass that also seemed to never be clean enough for his tastes, or perhaps it was another tick. Either way, Sans was faced with another intense gaze.
"Mustard." Grillby said. Ya see? Never said more than what was necessary. Even though his voice was warm--no pun intended for once--and many humans liked it, never more than necessary.
"you didn't have any ketchup." Sans waved his hand dismissively, eating at the fries, hoping to at least put a dent in the heaping pile before they grew cold or he grew aggravated enough to leave. The former seemed more probable than the latter. It seemed that Grillby was done talking because he went back to shining the glass. This time it was a pointed crackle, and Sans knew that he had just proved Grillbs' point, of course, he'd never admit to that. Seconds turned into minutes, and before he knew it, about five minutes had passed with neither one of them talking--or crackling. Perhaps Grillby was waiting for him to finish his fries before he laid into him again. He hoped that Grillby was done with the lectures, at least for today. He gave longer lectures than Paps, which said a lot. Sans had fallen asleep at the mercy of his brother's lectures before, which only got a rise out of his younger brother and led him right into another lecture. When Grillby seemed like he had given Sans enough time to think, he started again. This time the sound that came from him was worry. However, Sans continued to eat his fries. He wasn't snubbing his friend, he was thinking.
"you really think i have a problem?"
An affirmative crackle.
"hmm." was Sans' only response, popping the last fry into his mouth. Without asking, another bottle of ketchup appeared in front of him. One would think Grillby would cut him off. After all, he had wracked up more than ten year's worth of money for his tab, but Grillby never seemed to mind.
"if i have a problem, you're not helping, bud." Sans prodded. If Grillby could give a convincing eye roll, Sans was sure he would have. Nevertheless not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he began to drink from the bottle as Grillbs went back to shining the glass which for anyone else could blind them by how reflective it was.
Ten bottles later, forty five minutes later, and four orders of fries later it couldn't be denied that Sans was drunk. Yes, that's right. Drunk. Leaning on the bar ever so slightly, another bottle was sat in front of him.
"y'know what i don't understand?" Sans' speech had become slightly slurred.
An inquisitive crackle.
"those creatures."
"Women." Grillby corrected.
" 'hat's whad i said."
Grillby conceded. There was no point in arguing. He handed his friend another bottle. The reason Grillby had never really cut Sans off, as many humans had asked, before was that it wasn't toxic. It was ketchup, for some reason, Sans got drunk off it. If it was one of his human patrons on the other hand, and they were drinking alcohol, they would have been cut off LONG ago.
Sans downed the bottle in almost three gulps.
"whatcha think the reason was?" Sans asked, wiping his hand down his face. Another bottle. Actually... three? Or was it triple vision already. He was always thankful monsters never got hangovers, or he would've long been dead... Uh... Re-dead?
A thoughtful crackle.
"Worried?"
"of course ya campfire..."
"Ten years."
"i know howta count."
Grillby didn't argue, or crackle on the contrary.
" 'fore ya say 'nythin' i did ask."
Grillby cracked a smirk.
"i know ya well enough t' know ya were gonna ask."
Sans asked himself why it mattered for the hundredth time. It was ten years ago after all, whatever the reason was it was probably long gone by now. That nagging feeling was the problem though, well another problem in addition to his MAIN problem. What if the reason wasn't gone? What if it was a bad reason to begin with? No matter what he had asked, he was always met with "Don't worry". That's one of the things that aggravated him most. Those dismissive answers. He hated them.
"y'know, i try t' have fun, that's apparently a crime.
"Fun?" Ignoring Grillby, Sans continued. "i try t' care, but i don't get met with anythin' but nothin'." Sans let his skull meet the bar again with another sigh. Grillby let out an concerned crackle and stopped shining his glass.
" 'm goin' home." Sans muttered under his breath and stood up. "put it on my tab, Grillbs." He said, staggering towards the exit. Thankfully, Grillby's wasn't crowded tonight, or he might've embarrassed himself. Just a few monsters here and there that knew of his problems. After what felt like the walk of a lifetime, Sans had made it to the door. Taking one hand out of his pocket, he reached for the doorknob only to have it turn and the door open in front of him. For a moment, he thought maybe he had used some magic in his drunken state, but when his white pin pricks of pupils looked up, he sighed again, instantly returning his hand to his pocket. Anger. Frustration. Headache. It was all packed into this small twenty year old girl in front of him.
"Sans!" Her voice was happy to see him. "I should've known you'd be here. I've been looking for you."
Not surprised or impressed, he tried to blink her into focus.
"Sans?"
". . . why?" That's not what he meant to say, but it was good enough.
"Huh?" She seemed shocked. Good. "Uh, all of us were going out for snacks over at Muffet's then maybe karaoke at... at Mettaton's new place..." By the end, her voice was trailing off.
"pass."
"Sans? ... Are you okay? What's wrong?" Her voice seemed genuinely concerned. Dammit... She reached out her hand to him and he moved away, not letting her touch him.
"don't worry." He said, it seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for her tonight, her hand falling back at her side. He felt accomplished in a sort of twisted way. As he left Grillby's, the last sound he heard from inside was Grillby's campfire sigh.
Alright! That's Chapter 01, I hope you liked it and will consider leaving a comment so I know how to improve and become a better writer. Chapter 02 will be up soon and I hope they progressively get longer as I go.