Hello, all! If you follow me, you know I mostly post Marvel stuff. But me and my wonderful cousin, (who is posting this on Archive of our Own as we speak) decided to write this little fanfiction for Undertale! My cousin is writing all the parts from Sans' POV, and I'll be writing all the parts from our OC's POV.

I hope you all enjoy it!

-mariahills-capsicle

Day 324.

Still no reset.

Sans had just woken up from a restless sleep, dark circles lined the bottom of his dark eyes. The usually white pinprick of light in his eyes reflected more of a gray. As much as Sans wanted to remain in bed, he got up. He fumbled around with his feet for his slippers, which he lazily slipped on. It had been a while since he'd seen his brother, Or any of his friends for that matter. Good. He thought to himself, why get attached? We'll all be reset eventually.

The tired skeleton reached for his phone that lay charging on his bedside table. 8 missed calls from Papyrus and 8 new voicemails along with them. Sans reluctantly pressed 'play'.

"HELLO BROTHER! IT HAS BEEN A WHILE! I WAS WORR-"

8 deleted voicemails.

If Sans couldn't face his brother, why would listening to his voice be any better? Sans walked into the kitchen, It was a mess; the trashcan in the corner of the room was filled to the brim with take-out containers and empty bags of chips, some of which spilled out onto the floor. Then again, the entire house was a mess. Sans shrugged it off, like he usually did. The skeleton made his way over to the fridge, of course, there was nothing in there. Nothing except a plastic container labeled 'spaghetti'. Sans looked away from it, his memories flooding back.

Memories of Papyrus nearly burning down their house in Snowdin… memories of Papyrus cooking his 'famous' spaghetti… Sans pushed the thoughts away. Sure, He missed his little brother, but he didn't want to see the tall skeleton… not like this. Besides, he would see him again shortly, wouldn't he? As soon as the world resets once more and they're back in Snowdin, building puzzles and snow Papyruses. Sans tried to make the best of a bad situation, well… at least I have a house all to myself now…

Sans glanced around, the empty house was dark and cold. The skeleton looked over at the window. Newly smashed. Great. Sans walked over to the glass on the carpet, a rock with a note attached was in the middle of the debris. Sans picked it up, brushing a few shards of glass away.

"Monster scum" the note read in large red letters. Well, it hasn't been the first time he'd been called that. When monsters had returned to the surface, they didn't exactly get a warm welcome. In fact, it was just a few months ago that monsters had gotten the right to… have rights. That didn't stop some humans though. Monsters were getting mugged, beat and even killed constantly; apparently some humans don't take kindly to sharing their planet.

Some monsters argued that it was worth it. The death. The suffering. Just to see the sun. Just to see the stars. Sans? Well. He doesn't care. Why should he care? At least some humans were kind enough to house some of the monsters that came to the surface. Asgore made accommodations for all of his friends and Frisk's friends as well. But that was easy enough for

him, being king of the monsters. That meant Sans got his own house. Paid for and everything, while monsters risked their lives everyday just to get to work.

Didn't matter to Sans, of course, the short skeleton liked it this way; never having to leave the house, never having to see the snow, which reminded him so greatly of home. Sans gave up on trying to find food, and went straight for a cup of coffee, like he usually did. As the pot brewed, he walked into the living room and attempted to cover the gaping hole, that used to be a window, up with a blanket. Of course, minimal effort was put into this, but it was enough to stop the wind from making the house any colder.

The coffee was done, Sans liked it black. He liked the bitter taste of it, it reminded him of daily life. He grabbed himself a mug from the cabinet above, having to stand on his toes to do so. Sans poured the boiling black liquid into his mug, staring down into the swirling darkness. His phone rings,quickly pulling him out of his trance.

Papyrus is calling…

One missed call from Papyrus.

Sans pushed his phone away to the far corner of the counter. He likely wouldn't touch it for the rest of the day. Sans pondered what he should do for the rest of the day, but upon realization, he gave an audible sigh. Nothing.

When Franklin woke up, the gray sky almost tricked him into thinking that he was back underground. It was only seconds later that he remember where he was in reality, and he leaned back on the garbage bag he had been sleeping on and tried to pretend he was back home. Not in the five places his parents had called 'home' in the past 11 months, but his real home- the one underground. He imagined his mom was waking him up for breakfast, and he imagined he heard his dad's laugh downstairs, while he talked to one of their friendly neighbors.

After a moment more of daydreaming, Franklin sat up to face reality. It had been five months since he had seen his parents. Five months since he had watched them die. The memory of the event sent shivers down his bones, and he suppressed the tears that he so desperately needed to shed.

No. It was time to be a man. He had to be strong in order to survive. He climbed up from where he sat, shivering in the crisp, January air. Time to get to work. Frankie spent most his days begging on street corners, not that anyone would listen. Humans hated monsters, and despite the fact that Frankie was only nine- he was just as abused as any other. Sometimes a monster-supporter would pass by and drop of few coins (or, he once got a one dollar bill!) into the dirty, torn up backpack he had, and sometimes a friendly looking human would walk by and see he was a child and take pity on him and give him the rest of their tiny fast food hamburger, but those moments were so rare.

His favorite corner to sit on had always been the corner of Quarter and Main Street. That was always where most of the people were, which could either be good or bad. Yesterday, for example (and most other days, now that he thought about it), was bad.

"Mommy, look at that poor little boy. He looks very cold. Can we help him?" A little six year old girl had pointed towards him. He held up his little backpack hopefully, but the mother looked frightened, and pulled her daughter far away from Franklin.

"Keep away from their type, sweetheart." She said, fear in her voice. Franklin bowed his head in shame.

Oh yes, yesterday had been a terrible day.

"Maybe I should try a different corner today." Frankie said aloud to himself. He straightened his little red scarf, and pulled his torn up backpack onto his shoulder and hurried off down the street to find a good place to camp out for the day.

It was past noon, Frankie had had no success, and it was beginning to snow. Franklin was freezing, he hugged himself tightly, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He watched as people walked by his little cardboard sign and open backpack without a second glance. That was when he saw a rowdy group of human teenagers making their way down the street. They were laughing and talking about girls, and Frankie stared at them sadly- knowing they had no care in the whole world. How unfair the surface life was… how cruel and broken. He suddenly missed his parents, and felt a tear slowly roll down his cheekbone.

"Aw, look at this!" The sarcastic voice brought Frankie back to reality. "A poor, little monster baby." The leader of the teenagers was standing just above Frankie now, a sneer on his face, and a glint of hatred in his green eyes. Frankie quickly wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his gray hoodie.

"What are you all sad about, freak?" Another teenager snarled. "You're the ones taking our homes, our jobs- our land. You should go back to where you came from!" Frankie took in deep breath and looked away, deciding it would be best not to respond- that's what he did for most everyone anyways.

"Look at us when we're talking to you, freak!" A foot slammed against Frankie's ribcage. Frankie collapsed backwards, gasping for breath. He grabbed his pack and tried to scramble away, but another foot slammed against him from the other side.

"You monsters don't belong here! This is the human world!" A teen shouted. Then someone threw a rock, hitting the poor skeleton in the shoulder blade.

"Ow!" Frankie cried, tears spilling freely down his cheekbones. "Stop, please! You're hurting me!"

"He wants us to stop." The leader laughed. Frankie looked desperately over at the onlookers. Some took pleasure watching the little boy being tormented. Others were too afraid to intervene. A policeman leaned against a stop sign nearby, watching but not moving, Frankie almost swore he saw a little smile on the human's face. Another kick slammed into Frankie, and he gasped aloud, but at last he was able to scramble to his feet and push his way through the teenagers to freedom. Rocks sailed after him, slamming into his bones, one missed his skull by an inch. Frankie ran hard, and as far as he could, sobbing all the way.

"Mommy, daddy? Why are we leaving the underground?"

"Don't you want to see the sun, Frank?" His dad had said.

"Imagine all the beautiful stars- real stars!" His mother had replied.

"I don't want the sun and stars!" Frankie sobbed, and he slowed to a halt, realizing that no one had followed him. "I just want you back! I want you back..." He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't stop crying, so he continued wandering slowly through the neighborhood he had ended up in.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, only a couple hours later, Frankie was completely lost, and it was getting colder. The wind began to howl around him and the snow was falling down thicker. He was going to freeze tonight if he couldn't find a warm place to stay. That's when he saw it, through his tears. A small house on the corner. The yard wasn't taken care of at all, and there was no vehicle out front. The big front window had been shattered. As Frankie drew closer he realized that someone had pinned up a blanket to keep out the cold, but it was still accessible.

Someone lives here. He thought, but he was too cold to care. With his teeth chattering, he climbed over the broken shards of glass and under the blanket and into a warm living room.

There are no lights on. Frankie thought, So whoever lives here must be asleep. I'll just stay here until morning and slip out before they wake up. Frankie tiptoed across the room, and fell down onto the old, orange couch. It was the ugliest couch he'd seen in a long time. However, it was very comfortable, and, despite his plan to stay awake and slip out before dawn, Frankie soon fell fast asleep.