But summer has to come to an end sometime

[sansational]

Ever since S-4 talked Sans into sharing a room with him and Sans-Serif, sleep really has come a little easier. Not much - he still has bad dreams, they all do. But every little bit helps, especially when help is within arm's reach instead of on the other side of a door. Ever since hearing from Tauriel that the two babybones are also still suffering from bad dreams, Sans has been trying to find ways to help. But it's a problem that's stymied him for years to the point of giving up, so privately, he doesn't hold out too much hope.

It's been a relatively ordinary night - he read them both their story, tucked them in, and then curled up on the other side of S-4 from where Sans-Serif lay. Sleep came as quickly as it ever did. But whatever dreams Sans had, they were chased immediately from his head by the agony that awoke him, accompanied by the sharp crack of bone.

The pain jolts him upright, his hands scrabbling all over himself, searching for signs of damage. They finally come to rest on his own skull, and realize that it hasn't broken. It's just...shifted.

"no..."

More cracks like breaking twigs and shattered branches echo throughout the room. His fingers start to sharpen, he can feel his ribs expanding, each one accompanied by a gasp and a cry of pain from the skeleton. His marrow is on fire and burning him up from the inside out and no no no he has to get out of here...

Eventually, Sans makes it into the woods. But all that really does is ensure that he has enough room to finish transforming. By rights, it probably only takes a few hours, just like last time. But it's painful enough to feel as though it takes a lifetime. All he can do is lay on the ground and whimper and twitch, or else drag himself along in a futile attempt to escape the pain. All he can do is wait for it to finish happening.

Useless regrets and pointless despair chase themselves around his increasingly malformed skull. it's not fair, everything was supposed to be okay now, i was trying to be better, i promise i was...

Until even that level of thought is beyond him and he's reduced to begging senselessly. make it stop, please make it stop, i don't want to do this anymore, i made a mistake, please, Gaster...

At one point, he hears a voice in his head - a delusion, or a memory. it sounds like Frisk's voice, except not like their voice at all. Too late. Too late.


The forest has a new inhabitant, the next morning. The giant monster is something like a bear and something like a horse with a skull that more closely resembles that of a wolf. It's too big to go that deep into the trees, but it creeps around the edges of things. It keeps its distance from the castle, it treads carefully around any flowerbeds, but it's big enough to be easily noticed from a distance. Mostly, it can be found curled up in an apparent attempt to sleep, wherever the ground is clear enough for it to find room. Though whenever anyone approaches, one eyesocket opens to reveal a glowing blue orb of light within, and the creature lets out a wary growl. 

Otherwise, it can mostly be found trying to eat. The fruit trees in particular will find themselves frequently raided, with some of them picked entirely clean. Hopefully no one was in the mood for lemons this week. The creature barely has to stretch its neck to gobble fruit whole off the branches. 

This puts it somewhat at odds with the local birds, but even the most ornery peacock will beat a retreat whenever the beast parts its jaws just enough to let blue light bloom between its fangs. 

Comments

[sansational]

That, as it happens, is an unfortunately easy answer to give. "No." He'd been unconscious, unaware, or sedated for most of it, and the one detail he did remember wasn't something that could be easily repeated.

...but that doesn't mean they can't have hope. Even Sans can see that, even now. Especially now, after the night when he'd first transformed. "Another way." Neil will find another way, Sans-Serif and S-4 will help him, Tauriel and Ryoji will make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. Gaster might not be here, but...in a way, he's still better off than he was the last time this happened.

[dustless]

That's really not what they wanted to hear--obviously--but they only nod in response.

"Gotta be. 'F you made...a..." They let go with one arm to gesture at his body in general. "...changing thing here, there's gotta be a way to make a changing-back thing. And if you need me to do anything at all that might help, say that."

[sansational]

"Yeah." Sans nods in reply to their first point, this time without hesitation. He's changed back before, after all. If he was able to replicate the first effect with backwater substitutions, Neil should be able to replicate the second effect with the same. And hopefully so no one else has to lose an eye.

...their second point is a little harder to agree to, for a lot of reasons. Sans ducks his head, but finally mumbles: "I'll try." He'll try to remember to ask, try to find ways to ask if he thinks of anything. In the meantime, however, Frisk should at least know who the ones in the know are. "Ask Serif." His other self probably communicates better with Frisk than he does almost anyone, and so might be best equipped to fill Frisk in on their efforts - especially with Neil still laid up.

[dustless]

Trying is the best thing they can expect, they guess. Frisk isn't sure what they can do, after all, or else they'd be trying to do it right now.

"Serif? He knows about that kind of lab stuff?" That sounds a bit concerning, really. But. If he can tell them about what they can do... "I will."

[sansational]

Sans finds it especially concerning, as well. He ducks his head again and nods his apologetic confirmation of the question. He hadn't wanted either of them to know, which was why he'd first hidden the lab while Frisk had been dead and then both moved and abandoned it once they'd returned. Then again, S-4 had found it anyway, once or twice. He supposed it wasn't infeasible that Sans-Serif had been poking around as well.

Then again, the kid had also been getting very perceptive, as of late, about things he had no business being perceptive about...but that was a worry to be understood in another time.

"Sorry," he says again. Carefully, he starts to lay himself back down on the grass.

[dustless]

"Yeah. You are. I know." He'd said it at least five times, probably. They didn't exactly think to count.

Frisk flops down next to him into a sit, and then further until they're lying down on their side, half curled up, almost pressing against him.

"Will soon," they correct belatedly. A part of them wants to run and find Serif, but an even bigger part doesn't want to leave him alone. Or to be alone themselves.

[sansational]

...he has said it a lot, hasn't he? It's probably all white noise to Frisk, by now. It's hard for a skeletal dragon to look sheepish, but Sans manages it. And when Frisk lays down, he shifts until he's curled just a bit around them. In a way that hopefully indicates that pressing against him would not be a problem - he's not good for much else, at this point, and everyone knows that skeletons are very soft and cuddly. Like this, his tail is close enough to their shoe that Frisk might see it wag a bit at that correction. He doesn't particularly want to be left alone right now, either, but neither is he terribly good company.

"...want a ride?" he asks, only half joking.

[dustless]

Good. They roll so they're settled against him properly. And--alright, that tail wag was...cute, they think.

"...could do that?" Frisk can't really make out what little expression he can show from their angle. "Ride sounds fun. But it's nice here right now." Both of those statements are quite true. Running around on a giant skeleton friend would be a great rush, and just lying there next to him, even if he looks incredibly weird and they were just so angry with him, still manages to be soothing.

[sansational]

This question, at least, Sans can answer without hesitation. He looks over a little more properly at them and nods. "Could do that."

He knows for a fact that he's stronger, now. And as weird as his current shape is, it would offer plenty of handholds and places to secure a foot. And this shape doesn't have a lot of benefits that apply in a place like the castle, but being able to walk as much as he wants, to even run without knowing that he'll be collapsed in a panting heap on the ground a couple of minutes later, is kind of nice. Sans is used to feeling weak and fragile, so used to it that he finds people fussing over him and his 1 HP to be strange. Being strong is...kind of heady. Usually in a bad way, but occasionally a good one.

Even if Frisk was just so angry with him, the fact that they're still here is a sign that even Sans can see means he's mostly forgiven. And that is soothing if anything is.

So even as he says: "Up to you." he rests his head back in the grass again, in case they want to stay a little longer.

[dustless]

"'N a little bit."

Him half-curled around them feels pretty strange. Strange, but like they'd said, nice. He's obviously stronger like this, and he seems like...a wall around them, keeping them safe, at least for right now. (That in and of itself is a whole 'nother level of weird, which might upset people if they'll ever think to mention it.)

And just. Alive. He's alive, and here, and they hadn't quite known for themselves how afraid he'd gone until they'd just told him that out loud. Frisk is sure they can help him with him like this somehow--but they wouldn't have been able to do anything if he...

They sigh hard, grass waving in front of their face and probably brushing against Sans' ribs. They don't notice, their eyes are closed.

In a tiny voice, they confess. "...I. Really, really miss SAVE points."