This is a bit of a diversion that happens about a year or two before Shield Against the Dark.

One of the biggest changes to your life after you Fell and climbed back into the light is the music. It's not that it was absent before; you remember, through the gentle haze of time, listening to music on long road trips, and your human mother's voice, singing.

But after you Fell, music was everywhere. Though their actual ability to carry a tune varies greatly, everyone in your family applies themselves to singing with the same unfettered abandon. From your mother's lullabies, to your father's absent humming in the garden, to Mettaton's impromptu performances, to the destructive celebration that is every karaoke night down at the new Grillby's, you are constantly surrounded by music. Small wonder that you became enamoured of musicals, which sometimes resemble your life more closely than the more "realistic" stories offered for your entertainment.

Yet, there is something about music that has the power to slip past the defenses you've built against the shadows that haunt the fringes of your mind. You can listen to a song a hundred times, and on the hundred and first, something about a line, a turn of phrase, grabs you and shakes you like a dog with a new bone. Something deep within you lurches, reality twisting as the line reverberates through you. All you can do is stare at the your phone where it sits on the bed next to you. Your finger trembling, you slide the tracker on your phone back a few seconds.

'Til the world turns upside down!

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

This is where it gets me: on my feet

The enemy ahead of me

If this is the end of me,at least I have a friend with me-

You pause, and slide the tracker back again, the ghosts of the words echoing in your ears, mocking your lack of understanding.

'Til the world turns upside down! I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory-

The Fall is still very clear in your mind, though you're still not even sure how it began. It was dark, and you were cold, and what had seemed like an adventure when you set out was fast turning into a nightmare. Then, something caught your foot, and you stumbled. But when you put your hands out to break your fall, they met with nothing. Just the dark, and you Fell, tumbling and turning, the world spinning upside down until everything went black.

You reach out again.

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory-

The dreams don't come every night. Most nights are fine, in fact. But when they happen, they strike hard, and then fade when you wake, leaving only vague impressions, no real sense of what they were. It never really matters, because there is always a kind voice and a gentle touch waiting to soothe them away...

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory-

But why? What is it that you dream about that your mind can't bear to remember? What are you imagining when you let your dreams take control? Why does it seem so familiar?

Your breath is coming harder, audible through your parted lips as you fight to catch hold of the idea that slips through the forgotten corners of your mind like a fish through the dark marshes under the mountain. You can see it only in flashes, gleaming golden through the murky depths, and even as you reach for it, you are afraid of what you will see if you manage to catch hold and pull it from the water.

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory-

Flashes of gold flickering through the void. An x-ray, riddled with shadows. A spear gleaming blue against the darkness. Warm brown eyes you only ever see shining with love and affection staring at you sadly, filled with regret and resignation. An ominous room in a dark cellar, seven oblong shapes darker still within the gloom.

You reach out again.

Bony fingers close around yours, gentle, but offering no opportunity for resistance as they pull your hand away from the phone. The song remains frozen, unable to taunt you with that maddening, resonant line. Trembling, you raise your head, and even knowing what you will see, the pity and the raw understanding in Sans's shadowed eyes strikes hard. His hand tightens on yours as you flinch.

"kid," he says. "that's enough."

You don't have the words, but he doesn't always need them. He can read the fear and the confusion in your eyes as you hover on the edge of tears, so close to understanding what it is you've forgotten, but terrified of what you will find if you tear aside that curtain. You're so lost, and you don't know why it hurts, but your heart is racing like it wants to tear free of your chest.

With a soft sigh, Sans lets go of your hand and spreads his arms. "bring it in, kiddo."

A quiet gasp, almost a sob, breaks from you as you collapse against him, burying your head against his inexplicable softness. He holds you tightly, but even that can't still the tremors that wrack your body. He rests his chin against your head.

Downstairs, a door slams, and suddenly, though you're certain of nothing else, you know that you don't want Papyrus to see you like this. He'll demand to know what's wrong, and though you have no idea yourself, you can't think of a single answer you can give that wouldn't hurt him. Your mind is too full of shadows right now; you can't abide the thought of dimming the light that is Papyrus, even a little.

"Sans," you choke out against him.

"y'know, it's a nice day. you're not too old to play outside, right?"

Letting out a ragged breath of gratitude, you close your eyes and brace for the familiar wrenching sensation. You tumble through the dark, clinging to your big brother, and something cold brushes against your ankle in the between-space.

Then, the warm air of your bedroom in the brothers' house is replaced by crisp air carrying the sharp scent of fallen leaves and just the slightest edge of cold. Without the bed to support you any longer, you collapse to your knees, but Sans comes with you, supporting you until you can steady yourself again.

Only then does he let go, and you bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you press your head against your knees. You gulp the autumn air like it's water in Hotland, and Sans just sits there, giving you the time you need to quiet the racing of your thoughts. Somewhere nearby, water murmurs ceaselessly over sand and stone, filling the air with a serene, thoughtful whispering. That is more than enough to fill the silence.

It isn't until much later that you hear him shift in the leaves next to you. "i still can't believe the sky gets that blue."

Slowly, you raise your head. Sans is right. It is a nice day. Despite being slightly chilly, the sun is bright on the water before you. You sit on the shore between a lake and a stand of trees, no sign of habitation - human or monster - anywhere that you can see. Above it all, the sky gleams a bright, cerulean blue. "It is pretty," you admit.

"used to think it was just a pigment of my imagination." He gives a self-satisfied grin at your snort of laughter.

"It blue your mind?" you shoot back.

He leans back, gazing up at the sky. "azure am amazed," he agrees, and you laugh again.

The laughter breaks some of the crippling tension that's been holding you in its grip, and you scoot closer to him before hugging your knees again. Taking the hint, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you let your head rest on the furry strip around the hood of his cool-weather jacket.

"This place is really pretty," you tell him.

"heh. thought you'd like it," he says. He's quiet for another moment, but you can hear the question coming long before he finally voices it. "...you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't know if I can," you admit. "I don't know what it is. It's just that sometimes I get the feeling that there's something… something I'm forgetting. Something big. I'm fine one minute, and then something sets it off, and I don't know if it's the not knowing that scares me, or if the thing I'm forgetting is what I'm actually scared of. And I'm afraid to ask anyone else, 'cause if it freaks me out that bad, I don't want to think about what it does to them."

"frisk…" Sans begins wearily.

"I know, I know, I don't have to be happy all the time." You tighten your arms around your knees. "It's not that. I promise. It's just… most of the time, I am happy. And I don't want to ruin that. What if I'm forgetting for a reason? What if it's best if it stays forgotten?"

"welp. that's a tough one, kiddo." Idly, he plucks a large, perfect red maple leaf from the ground and places it on your head. "but if there's one thing i've learned about you in all this time, it's that you've got killer instincts. questionable, sometimes…" he pokes you in the ribs, making you giggle, but you can't deny that you earned it. It's a fair bet that some of the stuff you've pulled over the years would have made his hair turn grey if he'd had any. "...but they haven't led you wrong so far. so what are they telling you?"

You consider that for a long moment. Slowly, you let out a breath, and lift your head from his shoulder. "That it's important. But that I'm not ready for it. Yet."

"then let it go." He pulls the leaf off your head and hands it to you. "it'll come back when you're ready. if it doesn't, i'll help you find it. but for now… "

You reach out and take the leaf from him. Twirling the stem between your fingers, you let the colours flash across your vision for a minute before rising to your feet and walking to the water's edge. You crouch on the shore, the cold water lapping over your bare toes as you look into the water. Distantly, you see the flash of silver on the side of a fish before it turns, vanishing into the shade of the deeper water.

You place the leaf on the next incoming wave and let the water bear it away, watching it drift until it's a dot of colour in the blue. Making your way back to Sans, you plop back down next to him and wrap your arms around your knees again. Less out of a need to draw inward this time, and more because the water made you cold.

Sans tugs off his jacket, draping it over your lap and your wet feet. You lean over and place a kiss on his cheekbone, smiling as he blushes faintly blue. "Thanks, big bro." You don't just mean for the jacket, but you know he knows that, too.

He reaches over to ruffle your hair. "any time, little buddy." Sighing, he leans back on his hands. "man, being all sage and wise is exhausting."

Grinning, you follow his gaze across the water. There is just a distant speck of red dancing on the waves now. He may be all flippant about it, but he really does have a way of cutting straight to the heart of a matter, helping you to see clearly when the world gets muddled and turned upside down, and if he can't make your problems go away, he at least helps you turn them into something you can manage.

Softly, under your breath, you hum a gentle counterpoint to the wind and the waves and the birdsong around you. You can still hear the music in your head, but now, it's just a line of melody. Nothing more.