UnderCorrupt

18 ~ Simulum Admoenium Begins

It was some time before Sans saw Frisk again. Evidently, they had to convince Toriel that Sans was mostly completely safe to them.

It probably didn't help convince her when the next time she saw him, he was strapped to a table, swearing at Gaster rather voraciously in the Corrupt language.

Sans could tell that Frisk was there because he could feel their Soul, but he had no idea Toriel was there. As he calmed down a little from the pain in his chest, he slipped back into the Common Language. "-- unless i get the chance to rip it out myself!! on top of that-- oh, hey, kiddo-- on top of that, the next time you--"

"Sans! Enough!" Gaster gave Sans a vicious poke in the ribs, to which Sans let out a disagreeable yowl.

Without vocalizing, Gaster subtly told Sans in Hands that the queen was there.

Sans just glared at him. "and why do i care?"

"Because she's the queen!" Gaster again Spoke in Hands without using his voice.

For a moment, Sans just glared. Then he grinned widely, and ignored Gaster's Don't-Do-It look. "so," he said loudly, "apparently, gaster thinks that i should be respectful or something 'cuz you're the queen. but he's obviously forgotten that i am not only corrupt, but also quite irritated and quite immature, so i'm just going to straight-out say i refuse to be respectful to you, lady."

He heard Frisk let out a small snort at his open admitting of his immaturity.

And then Toriel was standing next to the table, staring down at him with a mixture of pity, sympathy, fear, and distrust. He grinned back at her, rather maliciously.

"'s rude to stare, y'know. i'd've expected better from the queen."

She scowled reproachfully at him. Gaster whacked Sans' shoulder lightly.

"Sans. Don't."

"why not? she's not my queen."

They were both glaring now. "Sans."

He started to talk again, but Papyrus interjected. "Hey, Sans?"

For a moment, Sans just kept glaring at the two. "... yeah, pap?"

"I need some help with my homework." This was more or less Papyrus's subtle hinting to Gaster that he should let Sans up now. It also was an effective tension diffuser.

Gaster sighed, gave Sans another withering glare, and started on getting the restraints undone. Toriel backed a few steps away.

As soon as he could, Sans sat up and stretched out his spine. Then he slid off the table and walked over to Gaster's desk, where not only was Papyrus sitting, but his shirt and jacket were draped over the back of the chair. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on. Then he turned to look at whatever Papyrus was doing.

"alright, what do you need--" He cut himself off, blinking.

Papyrus looked up at him as he frowned. "Sans? Are you alright?"

Sans lifted one hand to his chest, letting it rest over his Soul. He could feel his own pulse, wild and erratic. Something was... wrong.