17 ~ A Promise

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The next day when Frisk came back, they were a little alarmed to see that Papyrus wasn't near Sans. Sans appeared to be asleep on the cot, while Papyrus was sitting at Gaster's desk, figuring out what 12 X 5 was.

Noting that the cell door was open, as usual, they started to step backwards out the lab door, trying to figure out if they had forgotten to call ahead of time, or something like that.

Too late, though, as Sans' head snapped up suddenly, looking straight at Frisk. Frisk stared back, meeting his eyes, one bright, the other cracked.

Then his lazy grin widened ever so slightly. "heya, kid."

At Sans' voice, both Papyrus and Gaster looked up at Frisk.

Papyrus grinned "Hello, Frisk!"

"Um-" They gestured slightly at the open cell door. "Um, is that..."

Sans sat up a little and waved a hand dismissively. "eh. 's fine. 'm not gonna kill ya."

They lifted an eyebrow, expression somewhere between curiosity and skepticism.

Papyrus nodded enthusiastically, though. "He's not going to! He likes you!"

Sans flopped back down on the cot, muttering into his pillow, "it's a little more complicated than that, pap."

Sans didn't continue, so Frisk looked to Gaster for an explanation.

He gestured slightly as he spoke. "You managed to do the same thing for Sans as Papyrus did. Not to the same extent, nowhere near, in fact, but you still did it."

Frisk blinked, then smiled. "So I helped to heal you, Sans?"

Sans, still facedown on the cot, just shrugged. Then, after a moment, he propped himself up on one elbow. "actually, it's kinda strange. i can still... feel you. i can feel your soul. but, lucky you, it's not driving me into a power-hungry rage."

"So wait. Does that mean you can... feel me? Like, where I am?"

Sans gave them a sort of unsettling grin and nodded.

At that moment, Gaster looked up from whatever he was working on at his desk, and looked at Sans. "Can you now? That's interesting."

Sans was grinning wide as usual, but his eyesockets went dark. "no. no. don't even think about it."

Gaster mimicked the disconcerting grin Sans had had, and innocently said, "Think about what, Sans?"

Sans just scowled at him.

Frisk, meanwhile, asked, "So, Sans, if you're not going to kill me now, can I ask you a question?"

Sans, who was getting kinda sore elbows by now from holding himself up at such an odd angle for so long, rolled over onto his back with a groan of effort. "i mean, you just did ask me a question. but i guess you can ask me another one, if ya really want to. like i said before, there's not a whole lot i can do ta stop ya."

"Can you still see out of your left eye?"

Sans was quiet a minute. When he spoke, he did so slowly, carefully picking over his words. "yes... but, if i pay attention, really pay attention... there are these dark lines over my vision, about where the cracks are." Despite his attempt to hide it, there was a clearly audible note of pain in his voice.

Frisk decided not to follow the next string of questions they had involving his left eye. Instead, they asked about his Magic, moving to sit against the wall of the cell. "So you have a bunch of Corrupt attacks, then?"

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