((Hello again!

So, for this chapter, I've really nothing special to say other than I'm glad to be back in the groove again. Writing this story has been an experience that has brought so many new and amazing people into my life. Most I am a better person for knowing. I truly hope that you enjoy this chapter, and thank you ever so much for continuing on this journey with me. <3

Song for this chapter:

Title: I'll Be Good

Artist: James Young

Link: (As per usual, best played on repeat.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POqEVwROEQs

And as always, I truly hope you enjoy, and I love each and every one of you. <3<3 ))

"I am who I am

because of you...." - The Notebook

From seemingly far away, Sans heard a voice and felt a hard shove to his side; waking then to stare up at a form through bleary eyes. "Strife?" he croaked; his voice a no more than a scrape of sound.

"Yes, moron. I've been trying to wake you up for the past twenty minutes. I almost wondered if you fell and hit'yer damned head, which would explain why you're asleep on the ground outside the inn with your face in a puddle of drool."

Hurriedly, Sans lifted his head; feeling the damp remnants of fluid that he'd indeed been sleeping in. However, by the texture alone, he could tell very clearly that it wasn't drool. It was.... water. Strife studied the expression on his face, narrowing her brows while his furrowed in confusion. "What? Do you see something out there?" she asked, now also peering into the distance as well, but seeing nothing. Sans pivoted his head again, eyes darting toward the Inn which stood roughly twenty feet away. "How the hell....." his mind wondered, not knowing anymore whether or not he'd simply walked out here in his sleep somehow and dreamed the whole thing up. Just as that thought blossomed, a gust of wind kicked up a pile of multi-colored leaves; shaping them in swirling eddies that now danced within the tiny tornado. It wasn't the display that necessarily wiped away any doubt, but the very specific scent that wafted along on the breeze. He'd smelled it last night, and now upon closer inspection while the leaves gracefully swayed toward the ground, he could have sworn he spied a hint of sparkling blue in their wake. To that, he only smiled and got to his feet, facing Strife fully as he said "It's nothin'. Just the wind." and without another thought, he started toward Dusty's to see if the man had any word on Gaster.

"You're acting especially weird, y'know...." she said, hurriedly scrambling to catch up with him. "I know." was all he said, a grin slapped on his face all the while. "Why?!" Sans could tell she was beginning to get aggravated, knowing by now that her curiosity was definitely getting the best of her. He'd always gotten a kick out of it, so he said nothing. After a yawning silence, Strife growled and spat a curse. "You're insufferable!" she snarled before hauling off and slamming her balled up fist into his upper arm. Having expected the blow, he'd used his magic at just the right moment to shield himself from wherever she'd decide to strike. This earned him a colorful string of curses that ended in a vulgar gesture before her arms crossed over her chest. The skeleton only snickered, likely infuriating her more, but she did nothing about it this time.

They walked that way the rest of the time it took to reach Dusty's; Sans' expression pensive as his gaze flitted over buildings, other monsters and Grounders that scurried about, but not really seeing any of it. He was too busy recollecting. Well, more like dwelling if he was being honest, on all the horrible things he'd done to Frisk when she'd first arrived in the Underground this time. A time when he hadn't yet known who she was.... and who she was to him... Had he ever apologized for that? Ever told her how horrible he now felt for all the pain he'd brought upon her. The things he'd said?

.....No. He didn't believe he had.

Now, with the way that she saw him, could he bring himself to tell her in great detail about the humans that'd come before her? Yes, they'd done horrible, downright evil things.... but had he ever given any of them reason to do otherwise? He'd done nothing but frighten most of them from the beginning, so why would they ever think that any of the Monsters would show them kindness? Self preservation was a human's greatest urge. Knowing this was why he'd been so fascinated with Frisk.... with her bravery, and her honestly.

Such a kind and gentle soul..... one that she'd freely offered up to him without a second thought for herself. He paused, staring down at the nearly bleach white bones that made up his palms, but instead seeing all the blood that stained them. Blood that only he could see.

Blood that would haunt him until the day he died.

It was Strife that broke him out of the melancholy bubble he'd inadvertently wrapped around himself. Initially, her voice was nothing more than a distant, muffled string of sounds. Well, until she slapped him upside the head that is. "Stop ignoring me, dammit!" she hissed. Now, Sans turned his head; scowling at the half elf. "Geez, woman! Do you always have to be so violent?!" She shot him a withering glance. "Well, I wouldn't have to be if you stopped drifting off to la la land every ten seconds. And what's with the guilty look? You've got this expression on your face like you just killed a puppy or something..." Sans grimaced. "It's nothin'. I was just thinkin' about some stuff. And before you go asking questions-..." he held up a hand to forestall any objections before finishing. "... No. I don't wanna talk about it, and no, I'm not gonna tell you what it is either. So don't even bother asking."

Strife merely glowered at him and then rolled her eyes. An exaggerated huff was let out after, and she shook her head. "Fine. Whatever. I didn't wanna know anyway." she began, finishing with a muttered "...ass." under her breath.

The crack of lightning zapping one of the tall, energy collecting rods resounded around them, but Sans hardly noticed. His hands found the pockets in his hoodie and he stuffed them in as deeply as they'd go. One found the box, lingered over it for a moment and then pulled away. He dragged a bony palm over his face; head lolling back as he momentarily stared into the strange ceiling. How was he supposed to find Gaster? The guy had been gone so long, he couldn't even remember when or how he'd even left! As his head rose once more, Dusty's was mere feet away. "I'm starved." he said, turning his gaze toward a still pissed off Strife, who studiously made it a point to stare at anything and anyone but him, not saying anything as though Sans hadn't spoken. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. Well, as best as a skeleton could, with a shake of his head before opening the door to allow Strife access and crossed the threshold behind her.

"Howdy, ya'll!" came a jolly southern accent from behind the counter. Sans raised a hand in greeting. "What's good, Dusty? How's business?" The figure behind the counter smiled back at him from a face set within the largest dust bunny anyone would likely ever see. It was mostly gray with several mute browns and blacks strewn throughout, but wholly impossible for anywhere else but the Underground. He had eyes the color of soot that thoroughly confused Sans, on a number of levels, as to how they even stayed in his face. "Can't complain!" came the cheery reply while the man adjusted the chocolate brown cowhide vest he wore that covered a long sleeve dress shirt adorned with small blue and white checkers. Thin strips of the rough leather hung like fringe from the single breast pocket of the vest and all the way around the entire bottom, which were just long enough to hang over the dust covered blue jeans he wore beneath. Sans could hear the heel of the man's cowboy boots clip-clopping across the floor when he walked, and it made his grin widen. He began looking around, taking in the same scenery he'd seen each time he came here.

"Lovin' what you've done with the place! Did you redecorate or somethin'?" he said, knowing full well the man had likely never bothered to clean more than the places where someone sat to eat. This was mainly because, even if he did, it'd look just as it did now in no less than ten minutes after. It was a fools errand, and anyone who came to Dusty's knew it. If it wasn't for the fact that the man served up one hell of a mean burger, Sans would likely be content to merely stick to Grillby's. Picture frames hung on each wall; so heavily coated in dust that whatever lay beneath the glass was lost to anyone who looked at them. Because it'd been too much upkeep with tables and chairs, Dusty only had the bar that sat between him and his customers to ensure he would at least have one clean surface for people to eat upon.

"Don't think because you play on my pride that I'm gonna give'ya yer food fer free, Sans. I got my eye on you, boy. Don't think I don't already know all yer tricks." said Dusty, a light-hearted laugh accompanying many of his words. Sans then watched as the man reached under the counter and pulled up a ten gallon hat that had a head hole so large, it must have been custom made. Dusty placed it atop his head and tipped both forward with two fingers clamping the brim at the front as a sign of acknowledgement and appreciation. "But I'm much'obliged to 'ya all the same." he said before placing his hands on the counter and looking in Strife's direction. "Well howdy there, little lady. I ain't seen the likes of you in these here parts for a loooong time. We don't get many purdy faces 'round here y'know, so don't make such a stranger of yerself!" Strife simply smiled. "You're a cad, Dusty." she said jokingly. He feigned fear, placing the side of his hand to one side of his mouth before whispering "Just don't tell the misses." he said through a grin while Strife merely laughed.

Sans had been paying so much attention to everything else that he hadn't noticed the small figure eating silently at the far end of the bar. "Strange..." he thought, not realizing that Muffet, being a spider and all, albeit an abnormally gargantuan sized one by comparison to all the others, ate any sort of regular food. She didn't seem to want to be bothered however, so he only turned back toward Dusty who was pulling out a tiny notebook and pen, attention solely on Strife. "So. What can I do ya for, little lady?"

"I'll just have a salad, Dusty. Plain."

"And this is why people think you're weird. You do shit like eating salad without dressing. I mean, c'mon! Who does that?!" That earned Sans a sharp elbow to the ribs while Dusty was busy flipping the notebook closed and slipping it back into his pocket. The skeleton adopted an expression of obviously feigned sadness, placing one bony hand over the left side of his chest. "You wound me, Dusty! How come you never ask me what I want?" the giant dust ball shot him a withering glance. "Maybe if you ever asked fer anything other than a dust burger with nothin' but ketchup, I might!" he shot back, smirking. Sans sniffed, looking anything but hurt. "And here I thought you cared." That earned a snort from Strife.

"Y'know.... I might be weird, but it's better than being boring. Always the same thing, and only ketchup?! Who does that?!" She said, smirking at him. He only shook his head, leaning over the bar before Dusty could turn to go toward the back to make their food. "Hey, before you go back there, I gotta ask you somethin'. Have you seen a woman in here. 'Bout this tall..." he said, gesturing with his hands to show Frisk's height. "Brown hair, hangs just past the shoulders and wears a red and black striped sweater? Goes by the name Frisk?" from the corner of his eye, he noticed Muffet stiffen as he spoke; then tried to make herself seem smaller as she hurriedly packed up her remaining food and bolted through the door. Something about that definitely didn't seem right at all, and it made a few prior suspicions begin to shift into something more solid than they'd been.

"Wonder what that was all about..." Strife said, also sounding suspicious regarding what had just happened. Sans wondered if she was drawing the same sort of conclusions as he now was. "Dunno, but whatever it was, she sure hadda be outta here in a hurry!" said Dusty, shrugging his shoulders before leaning back into the counter. "Nope, Sans. Can't say that I have. But if I do, you'll be the first to know if that helps any?" Sans merely nodded his thanks before the other man smiled back and disappeared through an open door frame behind him. When there was only Sans and Strife left in the dining area, out of nowhere, the bell atop the door jingled. Figuring it must have been Muffet coming back for something, he didn't turn around. Instead, he was shocked so much by who sat next to him that he nearly fell off of his stool. After regaining his composure enough to speak, Sans folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in....."