Author's Note:

Hello! This story is written from the perspective of Frisk being female, having been more of a teenager during the events of Undertale, and now living amongst the humans in the same house as Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, and Toriel. I don't have the heart* to do a genocide run (but I am apparently pretty fine with writing about it) so I apologize for any crucial details I get wrong. Please feel free to review if you enjoyed this chapter, want to say hi, know who stole all of my left socks, etc.

*no pun intended, but I'll claim it.

And if you enjoy this, make sure to check out my other stories! :)

The two stood there, but Frisk had a hard time not zoning him out. The ash that stuck to her sweat was so much more interesting. It wasn't blood- if it was, then her knife would have been just as interesting- but having the powdered remains of monsters caressing her skin was so much more engaging than whatever he was saying about the weather.

"... children like you," he said, catching her attention, "should be burning in hell."

Frisk opened her eyes, screaming. Even in the benign darkness of her room, she could still see that deathly blue fire burned into her eyes. The fire burning in his left eye. Without warning, the lights came on, forcing her to close her eyes for several excruciating seconds and see that face all the more clearly. The one that had sought her death. The one that was right next to her bed.

She screamed again, launching her foot out of her bed and landing a solid blow to where his nose would have been if he had one. If she wasn't so terrified, she would have laughed at being able to send him across the room into a pile of dirty laundry.

"this is cruel," a muffled voice said under the dirty socks. "i guess you could say, it stinks!"

Her heart was still racing from the grip of the nightmare, but that insufferable pun reduced the strength it had on her. She untangled herself from her blanket and walked over.

"I'm sorry, Sans," she said, helping him move the clothes and stand up.

"i have to hand it to you," he said as she pulled him up, "i didn't expect such a young human to have such a kick to them!"

Frisk wanted to chuckle at Sans' attempts at human-based puns, but too much fear and embarrassment kept her mouth in a straight line.

"which dream was it this time," he asked, his smile more an incidental factual feature than an expression of emotion. Frisk looked down and shook her head. "oh," he replied. "everyone else is still asleep, but you don't have to go back to bed," he added, leaving. He had a good idea which nightmare this was. If this happened after the others had woken up, he would try to leave her with one of them. But whether or not she was alone, he knew it was better for the both of them if they didn't see each other again until after she calmed down. He walked into the room he shared with his brother, Papyrus, and saw him still asleep on the top bunk. He quietly walked over to touch his arm and make sure that it wasn't just a pile of ash. As his fingerbone made a gentle tap on Papyrus' leg bone- eliciting a quiet "NYEH HEYH HEYH…."- he decided that he should wait in the kitchen until Frisk felt a little better. He knew it was a nightmare, but the two of them were the only ones who knew. The two who remembered everything the best.

Including the time when she murdered both him and his brother.