You know what? Sans liked Toby.
Granted, he kidnapped him, but the brown haired boy was the only one that tried to make this situation any better. While in the backseat, he tried to entertain Sans, telling some funny stories and exchanging jokes.
"You can't feel any pain?" Sans asked, "At all?"
"Nope!" Toby said, drumming his fingers in beat to the radio. "I-It's just nothing w-w-whenever I get hit!"
"That m-must be pretty useful for your... line of work," Sans said.
"I-it is," Toby said, "It's even w-w-why I was taken in a-a-as a proxy."
"Proxy?" Sans asked.
"T-That's what we're c-c-called," Toby explained.
Proxy, huh? That typically meant workers for someone, so...
If these guys were working for someone and killing for them, no doubt they were terrified of going against him. And by letting a witness go, they'd probably be in hot water with them. That explained why they were so adamant to Sans not blabbing.
"Cool name," Sans said, "But uh, how long until we get to wherever we're going?"
"Awhile, it's out a bit," Tim explained.
"Fantastic," Sans sighed.
"H-hey, it'll be f-fun! You and I c-c-can play lots of games and forget that we're k-kidnapping you from everyone you care about!" Toby paused after he spoke, realizing what he had just said. "O-Oh. Sorry."
~~~~~~
"What do you mean there's no connections?" Undyne asked, slamming her hands onto the counter.
"I would love to investigate this further as much as you do, but I can't continue this investigation without much evidence," She said, "There's no connection between the skeleton and the serial killers."
"Of course there is!" Undyne said, "You just said the receptionist saw Sans with three other men!"
"She couldn't recall what they looked like, so we don't know for sure if it's them." The police officer closed a folder, brushing it to the side. "She even said he made a joke about an... well, an orgy. All we have for evidence is his phone, and that could have just been dropped, since he willingly bought the room. He might just be having a wild night out. I don't think he'd joke about something like that in danger."
"It's Sans, he jokes about everything in all situations!" Undyne said, "You could throw him into a lake and he'd probably make a water pun. You and I both know this was probably a kidnapping and they forced him to buy a room."
"I'm not going to deny that, it's probably true. You guys can file a missing report, but we have to wait at least 72 hours before taking action in the case of adults." The woman sighed, hugging her arms to her chest. "Look, he probably had been used as a hostage driver, but we can't officially do anything, especially with the testimony the receptionist gave. Our station has been told to lay low after a recent bad incident, and since he's a monster... well, there's nothing I can do." She stood up from her desk. "I am sure he wouldn't disappear like this, and he likely was kidnapped. I won't deny that, but if I take on this case I'll get fired, then it'll be swept under the rug and there won't ever be an investigation. For now, the best we can do is wait out the 72 hours and consider him a missing person."
"You're Bosses are really cracking down on this, huh?" Undyne asked.
"Our last incident had several innocent people arrested, and there was a lot of backlash from the press and protests," She said, "We aren't allowed to do squat anymore. But I could turn the case over to you when he's filed as a missing person, if you'd like. The Royal Guard would have much more authority in this case than we ever could. We just don't have a case to turn over yet, so we'll have to wait until he becomes an official missing person. In the meantime, we can keep doing searches in the area if the killers are still nearby."
"That would be helpful, yeah," Undyne said.
Undyne didn't blame this woman. At least she was willing to give the case to the Royal Guard instead of dragging it out in the police department.
~~~~~~
In the woods, down a curvy gravel road, they had traveled. Sans leaned against the window, watching leaves twist and turn above the car, flashes of sunlight popping in and out of the brief openings. A gentle hum of the engine tuned as they crept to a stop, now finding themselves located at a small cabin in the woods.
It was small, but seemed to be kept in decent shape. Bells dangled from each window, likely a defense for intruders, with a simple chair on the front porch. There was even a pile of firewood near the side, a row of hatchets set up along the side for cutting it.
"You guys have a fireplace?" Sans asked.
"Yeah," Tim said.
"Man, Tori would be so jealous," Sans said, "She's been trying to get a house with a fireplace forever, she's just given up and is installing one in her current house. She wants it to be done by Christmas."
"Oh, I l-l-love Christmas!" Toby said, pressing his hands together.
"Eh, I love the food," Sans said.
"Food! T-Thanksgiving is today! G-Guys, happy T-T-Thanksgiving!" Toby said.
Right. Today was Thanksgiving. Just remembering that made the very few shreds of happiness Toby managed to give him fall away into the bleak realization of his new life. It was Thanksgiving, the day he and his friends had been excited for weeks about. The time meant to be spent with friends and family, now would instead be worrying about him. And how would Sans be spending his Thanksgiving, a day meant to be thankful and with family? Locked in a cabin with three kidnappers.
Sans could use his magic, but he never was one to resort to it unless absolutely necessary. Basically, if the world was about to be destroyed. It sounded like too much work to bother to fight them. He was rather lazy.
When nothing mattered, he couldn't really care.
Then again, if he did teleport out of there, he didn't even know where he was. And it'd take away all of his magic to even teleport out of this massive forest.
So, with shuffling feet, Sans followed Toby out of the car. Being an optimist wasn't his strong suit, Sans could only see the downsides of the situation, slowly tricking away at his already fragile mental health. The cabin was old. No one probably knew it was here. If they didn't have updated heating system, which he suspected, they'd probably make him cut the firewood. And it smelled like dead meat out here.
Toby stepped up to the plate of positive reinforcement when no one else would. "It's going to be f-f-fun, I promise! W-We play games and h-hangout a-and-" Noticing a bloody hatchet, Toby quickly kicked it under the porch when they drew near. "A-And... uh... m-movies! We h-h-have movie nights!"
Now closer, Sans picked up the very distinct smell of a rotting carcass. Either a human or animal, but he was heavily leaning towards the human option. It seemed to be coming from under the porch.
The house itself was definitely old, with wood chipping away, weighed down with their age. Steady, but worn. A loose, yet firm lock hung from the door, being opened by Tim. Brian was still by the car, taking apart the seats to inspect. For what, he didn't know. Maybe any cans of pepper spray or other typically self defense items inside of cars. That would be a useless search, monsters barely used items over magic. The most he'd find would be empty ketchup packets.
Inside was oddly different from the outside. A warm fireplace gently brought a nice warmth to the quaint living room. There wasn't much, one simple, saggy couch and a tightly packed kitchen, but Sans hadn't anticipated it to be this... nice.
"You guys actually live here?" Sans asked, "Wow."
"What do you mean?" Tim asked.
"I dunno, I guess I was expecting something like a hideout. With more weapons, or something. Not an actual home." Sans looked around, admiring the few paintings on the wall. They even decorated? "Nice paintings."
"They're Brians," Tim said curtly.
Oh. So that probably meant Brian was the one into interior decor. Asgore was really into that stuff. Paintings, vases, flowers, lamps. He loved to pretty things up. Maybe it was why he loved flowers so much, because they were often considered to be beautiful and were linked to decoration. Sans visited the old guy a couple of times, rather nice. Not perfect, but passionate and caring.
"Oh, h-here."
Toby suddenly held out his hands, gently taking Sans' tied ones into his own. He then unbound him, letting the pillow sheets fall to the ground. Useless.
"Uh... yer untying me? Why?" Sans asked.
Toby's body jerked, but it seemed uncontrolled, that he didn't even do it himself. It had nothing to do with their conversation, and the human carried on like it didn't happen. "We're all in th-the same r-room, a-a-a-and you're small."
Fair. Sans was small and weak compared to the more exercised men. Even against one of them he'd lose a simple arm wrestle. Sad, but for someone who didn't have muscles, he had grown used to it. Physical strength was never an option for him.
"Well, what do you want me to do now?" Sans asked, rubbing his now free wrists.
"... Sit?" Tim asked.
Sans glanced at him. "You guys don't have very many people over, do you?"
"We have bodies," Tim said.
"Not the same."
They all seemed to be disconnected. No one bothered to talk to each other, each drifting to their own respective activities. Tim flicked on the T.V, sitting down onto the couch to tune out the world, an action Sans wad very good at. Brian himself grabbed a bag of old chips, followed by a marked book and left for the front porch. Toby lingered by Sans, probably wanting to spend sometime with the only person who listened to him anymore.
"So what do you typically do around here?" Sans asked them.
If he had to judge, Toby was quite like Papyrus. An extrovert, loud, but a loveable goofball who just wanted to make friends. It was clear the other two didn't seem to get along with him, so he must feel excluded and alone. Trapped out here, unable to talk to new people, only having himself and two other serial killers for company. It sounded terrible. He still kidnapped Sans, which was a fact Sans was never going to overlook, but it was sad nevertheless.
"Watch T-T.V mostly, when w-w-we're not on missions," Toby said, "Read, and... t-that's it."
"Oh, geez," Sans said.
That sounded boring. But what other options did they have? They couldn't do much without getting hunted, this was their best options. The fireplace quietly continued to warm the room, proving most of the light and warmth into the house.
"Do y-you want to hear a f-f-funny story?" Toby asked, "No one ever l-l-listens to my stories but you c-can now!"
"I'd recommend you don't listen to them," Tim said, glancing over at him. "His stories might not keep you sane."
"Neither will being kidnapped by killers," Sans said.
"Fair," Tim said.
This was so... unusual. Sure, they were killers, but weren't they still partners? They had no other people to hang out with, no other chances for friends or basic human interaction. How did they manage to stay sane?
Or... As he looked at the small blood stain on the carpet...
Maybe they'd given in a long time ago.
~~~~~~
Toby was the only one who bothered to even interact with Sans that fateful day. Tim lost himself in the world of television, and Brian was on the porch, reading. To distract himself from his impending boredom, he kept himself with Toby, listening to story after story. Any story he had to offer, Sans took. Their conversation was mutually beneficial for the human and skeleton. For Sans, he was kept entertained. For Toby, he was finally gaining the listener he was seeking for years.
That continued, even into dinner, of which their celebration was bland. Nonexistent. No sense of a party even hung in the air, and they all ate separately. Toby was the only one who tried, and although the other two kept their distance, they gave apologetic glances. Kidnapped from everything he knew, on a holiday nevertheless.
"It's n-not much," Toby said, voice sorrowful as he offered a plate of food to Sans. "But Happy T-Thanksgiving."
That's how his night went. If it weren't for Toby, he probably already would have dove head first into his crumbling mental health. It wasn't anything special, but Toby was trying, and that's what really mattered to Sans.
It was later, curled up onto the bed, with his back turned to Tim, did the reality of his situation and new life finally crashed down onto his soul. This would be his constant cycle of days. No happiness, no friends, no favorite food. Grillby's? Nope. Papyrus? Gone. Nothing but this cabin, these woods, and the threat of death hanging in the air.
A sob broke out of his mouth, followed by another. Once the dam of tears was broken, he felt like he couldn't stop. Thick globs of water rolled down his skull as he covered his teeth, trying to fruitlessly muffle his noises. Bones started to rattle together, a natural skeleton reaction to crying.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Tim said quietly behind him.
Tim reached towards the sobbing man, but drew back, unable to comfort him. He was the one who put him into this situation. He had no right to pretend like this wasn't his doing.
Instead, a symbol on his hand caught his attention. A circle, with a pair of lines running through it. Not a tattoo, a marking.
"I'm so sorry," He whispered, running a finger across the lines.
He'd send him back if he was allowed. He really would.
《》《》《》
Yeah, I'm doing a bit better, so I'm updating again. Thanks for being patient, I just didn't have it in me to even edit any stories. Glad to start writing again.