"No."

"yes."

"No!"

"yes."

"I'm not sleeping in your bed again! It's your turn!"

"i slept in it last night. your turn."

"How about you sleep in it tonight, and I sleep in it twice in a row?"

"hmm. your offer is good...but pass."

"No! Come on, please!"

"nope. you go in the bed."

"I'm sleeping on the damn couch!"

"lady, i'm the one with teleportation and telekinesis. you're sleeping on the damn bed."

Y/N crossed her arms, glowering from her position on the bed, cross-legged and leaning against her wall. "I hate you."

Sans shrugged from the other side of the room, leaning against his wall. "okay."

Her shoulders sagged, and she hung her head in shame. "I don't hate you."

Sans's grin turned sly. "i know. i figured you just needed to get your anger out."

"Never mind. Maybe I do hate you."

"sure. that'll last five seconds."

"I mean it this time. I'm hating you forever."

"three seconds."

Y/N pointed to the door. "Get out of my room."

"it's my room, and one second left."

"Leave!" she screeched as quietly as she could (with the late hour), launching the pillow at him, which he dodged with a quick shortcut and a laugh.

Still, he obeyed, stepping over the pillow and strolling to the door and opening it. He looked over at her and winked. "g'night, y/n. sleep tight."

He shut the door behind him softly, leaving her alone with the darkness. He had won the bedtime argument today, it seemed.

Peace came upon her. A light like moonlight streamed through the back window as she looked through it—Sans had told her it was new, as the three had needed to renovate to add a bathroom, and Frisk insisted on more windows everywhere to supposedly open up the space. But the light it provided was well worth the effort, at least in her opinion. It was quite heavenly.

Y/N huffed as she looked down across the room at the pillow, laying innocently on the floor. "Stupid skeleton," she grumbled. "Making me pick up my own stupid pillow."

Reluctantly, she scooted off the bed and swiped it up, hugging it to her body as she turned back and sent another glance around. In the few days she had been there, Sans had surprisingly made an effort to clean the place. The tornado had been dismissed entirely, trash had been picked up and thrown away, and a simplistic dresser had been shoved in the corner for clothes for her. (Thankfully, the inn keeper had had lots of different options in her size.) Overall, it had been a drastic change, at least in comparison to what Frisk had described it as before. Before, it had been a mess. Now, it could feasibly be a person's room.

She let herself fall face-first into the mattress, then heaved her legs up, sliding under the comforter. Pillow finally under her head and annoying skeleton evicted, she could sleep. With a sigh, she closed her eyes...

...only to open them again.

With a frustrated groan, she turned on her side. Of all times for insomnia to strike.

Nope. That didn't help either. Now she was staring at the wall and still not tired.

Why me.

What felt like no time was passing, but when she glanced at the clock, it was 2 AM and she was not tired or close to being tired.

With a sigh, she tossed off the covers and rose from bed. If her insomnia wouldn't go of its own volition, she would have to tire herself out. Walks were always better at night anyway, and nowhere was there a safer place to walk than in the Underground, where residents would hardly harm plants or flies, let alone children or grown adults.

After slipping on trainers, Y/N slid open the window, breathed in a gulp of fresh air, then jumped out. The snow cushioned her fall, somewhat, which restricted her pain from excruciating to a series of 'ow's she chanted as she walked away.

The world was much more still at night. Although when she first came to the Underground time changes were difficult to discern, but she came to realize that light was dimmer at night, similar to that of sun and moon cycles. She also noticed that fewer monsters were around Snowdin, almost none to be found as she wandered into the woods. Plus, the snow glowed much more prettily at night, a gentle blue instead of blinding white.

But the best part about it all was that it was quiet, just the wind and her. And Y/N could really think.

Life had truly changed since she had fallen. Although she had realized that with Toriel, it became much more obvious with her entrance into the main chamber. She had people that wanted to talk to her. She had meals to show up for. She had errands to run that weren't just for her. She had a reason other than work to get out of bed.

It was stressful. There was expectation always weighing on her: she was expected to keep up conversations, even if she was tired or didn't want to talk. She was expected to show up when asked for. She was expected to be available to help, even when some days she preferred to stay in and hate herself for a little while.

But on the other side of the coin, the person and monsters had endeared themselves to her quickly.

Papyrus reminded her of better things. He was so sweet and kind, respecting her desires for personal space and sleep to a degree she hadn't expected. Even though he had insisted that her first sleep-in be a singular occurrence, he hadn't commented any of the several times since she had found herself oversleeping. All he did was give her a big grin and serve her food without a word, which basically made him one of her favorite people of all time. His pure goodness was so reminiscent of a life she had long believed gone from her memories...

Frisk, too, quickly found their way into Y/N's good graces. Though she was not fluent in ASL and had only barely managed to pass through that first conversation, they taught her more symbols and phrases every day. Their exchanges were calm and enjoyable in silence. It was also far easier to work in human pop culture jokes. Whenever she was feeling low, she could count on Frisk to lend a quiet but understanding ear. Of anyone down here, they would know how painful remnants of the surface could be.

And then there was Sans. He was...certainly something.

Y/N rolled her eyes to herself. Understatement of the year. Sans reminded her of herself. Similar sense of humor, similar obsession with hoodies, similar terrible sleep schedules, similar dark and tragic pasts that they both tried to hide but failed miserably—

Okay, it was best not to pursue that train of thought. She hated digging at and unearthing her own history, and she could only assume Sans did, too. After all, she could see the dodgy look in his eye sockets whenever something vaguely resembling the past was brought up. It's not like that look was unfamiliar to her. She wore it well.

She breathed in the cold air. No wonder she couldn't get to sleep. Her mind was so full. Nothing like a self-therapy session to clear out all the cobwebs, or at least the ones she was willing to touch.

"Hey there, idiot."

No. Not him.

Y/N visibly cowered away from the flower that had suddenly burst from the snowy ground in her path, staring at her evenly with those black eyes that still made her shiver to look at. They reminded her so much of everything she wanted to forget.

"So I've noticed you've made some friends around here, huh." Flowey tilted his petaled head to the side, a tight grin on his face. "Think you fit in? Think you belong down here?"

She huffed, suddenly annoyed more than afraid. After all, it's not like he could hurt her—one scream and monsters would come running to her aid and rescue her. If Toriel could fire-blast Flowey out of existence for a while, then who could say what powers the others had? All he could really do is taunt her, and he knew it.

"Maybe I do," Y/N challenged, crossing her arms. "Whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Yell at me? Laugh at me? You might be a creepy little flower, but that's all you are. Creepy and little."

"Wow, I feel so attacked right now," he deadpanned right back. His head lifted. "But you know you're just a freak compared to them. A weirdo, like a piece for a different puzzle. You don't make any picture."

"Let me guess, I'm going to die sad and alone?" Y/N put her hands on her hips. "It's nothing I haven't thought before. You're nothing but intrusive thoughts. And guess what? I know how to deal with those. I crush them to dust."

"Dust, huh?" Flowey smirked. "I guess you would know, wouldn't you? You're a screwball, just like your mother."

Like a vacuum, all of the air was sucked from her lungs. The world swam in black around them, and Y/N almost collapsed from the blood draining from her body. Unknown to her, her soul writhed in her chest, the faint fractures that hadn't been touched since the incident starting to crumble at the edges just slightly.

-1 HP

84/85

It seemed like Flowey noticed, if his widening grin was any indication. Red hellfire burned in his eyes as he leered into her very being, the soul which twitched inside of her and yearned to be let out as it flashed indigo and yellow.

"My mother?" Y/N heaved. "What do you know about my mother?"

"Oh, nothing much." He narrowed his eyes, mouth tinged to be sly. "Nothing you don't already know, I'm sure."

"Tell me." Her voice was a deadly hiss. "I need to know how you know her."

"Well." Flowey shifted in place, gesturing with a leaf. "She's much older than you think. Evelyn, right? She was around for a lot of stuff. Maybe some of the bedtime stories she told you were from personal experience."

"The war between humans and monsters? That was over a hundred years ago!" Y/N was getting agitated now, gritting her teeth as she tried to piece it all together in her mind. Her mother had always been her touchiest subject, and with the fading memories of her childhood, she couldn't recall much of her—mostly her many anecdotes. But still, it was absurd of him to insinuate that her mother had been around for the war. It couldn't possibly be true. And yet, how did Flowey know her?

"Just think about it. Maybe you'll come to your senses soon." He mimicked a salute. "Well, if you ever need to be reminded of your place in the world and how useless you are, you know where to find me! Oh, wait, no you don't. Bye-bye."

"No! Come back here, I'm not through with you—" Y/N reached out for him, as though she was going to strangle the information out of him, but he was ducking into the soil and gone in an instant. She had to forcibly bite back a scream of frustration; she left the house to ease her mind, but now she had more troubles than she had started with. As if she needed more to think about.

She growled to herself and kicked at the snow where that awful flower had popped up from. "Fine. Be that way. Dumb weed."

Then she stalked off, farther into the woods. Maybe...a little too far, past where the light was comfortable shining. The pine trees towered above her, blocking out what could be called a sky, and the snow was dimmed to a grey.

Deep in the woods, where the monsters don't go, a mind is far more susceptible to be seen. To be probed. To be known. Someone is going to see you. Where the blackness encroaches is where you need to tread cautiously, but Y/N plunged into it, going dark, darker, yet darker.

FUN NB: 66

The perfect iteration.

A rogue shadow stalked her heels, drawn to her internal darkness. Perhaps not a shadow, exactly, but so long forgotten that he blended perfectly as one, a part of the landscape, a vague whisper on the wind and a fragment of being so tiny and scattered but still himself, so himself. His mind surrounded hers, so condensed with darkness that he swallowed her like a fog and tainted her already murky and grave thoughts. Storm clouds followed her where she stepped, and she slowed as he reached to her, crawled on her skin, trying desperately to be seen.

Y/N held her head. "Wh..." she mumbled.

She could hear the painful, stabbing voices around her, the voices she had fought so long to tune out. Stupid. Worthless. Waste. Nothing.

Hope? they mocked. What a joke. What good is there to hope for? The people around you will only let you down in the end, just like your mother. The world is only filled with darkness, and it always will be. Maybe you should just—

"um. y/n? you okay? what are you doing out this late? or, uh, i guess early."

Y/N blinked back to reality, turning to see Sans, standing right behind her with his bony hands in his pockets and his sockets full of concern. (Unbeknownst to her, the shadow recoiled from her and scurried back into the background, leaving her mind to clear and return to normal.) Without intending to, her words stuttered from a chill that seemingly only just came upon her. "I-I-I, um, just went out f-for a walk to...t-to clear my head. Wh-what are you d-doing here?"

"i walk for my insomnia, too. but you've been standing there for at least twenty, maybe thirty minutes, just staring at the ground. your hands are as white as mine."

"N-no, they're..."

HP: 79/85

She lifted her hands to her face, ready to object, but they were pale as snow, blue at the fingertips. Her skin—her whole body was so icy—oh, God, how had she—? She was just standing there stewing in bad thoughts, and all the while she was freezing to death, even in her hoodie, which usually felt so warm. But she hadn't been herself, it was like there was someone there, forcing her to think about how much she hated herself, hated her life, hated everything, how much she just wanted to—

No. Stop it. You've had enough of that.

"I-I-I-I don't know—" Y/N whispered, teeth chattering through her words. How could she have ignored how cold she was? "I didn't realize—"

"oh, no, no, i'm not blaming you or anything!" Alarm overtook Sans's concern as he realized how distressed she was, pulling off his jacket to tuck around her with a nervous grin. "here, you need this more than i do. let's get you somewhere warm, huh? i know the perfect place. there's a literal fire monster there. that should do the trick."

"Th-that...sounds good," she managed, a little smile on her face at how he was fumbling around her. She hugged herself, feeling the layers start to take effect on her. Already, she was feeling the darkness slipping away as Sans led her out of the deep woods and towards the light.

The voices had been wrong. Everyone needed hope. Including her.

Before long Sans was holding open a door for her, and Y/N sighed in joy as she felt a rush of warmth entering the premises.

"Grillby's?" she asked knowingly, spotting the blazing man in question standing behind the counter, cleaning a glass with a rag. He looked up and nodded at Sans.

"that'd be it." He took his place on his signature bar-stool, gesturing to the one beside him for her to sit on.

"Well, thank you much, mister—"

The undignified sound of a fart blasted through the air as Y/N settled next to him, and she hid her amusement behind her hand in an attempt to retain composure as he lost his, snorting loudly.

"Your humor is completely juvenile," she tried to say in a serious tone, but she ended up breaking down into giggles.

"you're laughing too, y'know," Sans pointed out helpfully, to which the pair laughed at even more.

Y/N pulled the whoopee cushion out from under her, passing it back to its rightful owner. "You're hilarious."

"i know."

"Smartass."

"but i don't have one."

"I hate you."

"sure you do."

"Ugh." Y/N smacked her head on the bar, folding her hands over her head. "Grillby, Sans is bullying me. Stop him."

The elemental flickered, making a hissing sound like a laugh. Then there was the thwack of a gentle slap, and Sans muttering an "ow" with more hissing accompanied.

Y/N smiled, raising her head and pulling her arms back to rest on her neck, looking up at Grillby. "So you serve food?" He nodded, to which she dug in her pockets and set down 50 gold. "Does this cover a burger and fries?"

Grillby leveled Sans with an expectant look over his glasses, to which he rolled his eyes. "yeah, yeah, buddy, i'll pay my damn tab someday."

The fire monster took half of her money and replaced it with a steaming hot burger and perfectly salty fries. She jammed some of the latter in her mouth and groaned. "Oh my god. That's good. Real freaking good. They don't make fast food like this anymore."

HP: 85/85

Sans chuckled as she shoveled more down her gullet. "you got a real thing for food, huh?"

"Quality food," Y/N corrected, taking a massive bite out of the burger. "You guys just make good food. Up on the surface people tend to half-ass it. Not down here. You cook every meal like it's your last." She winced. "Not to, uh, be in poor taste or dark or anything."

"nah, you're good. don't think we're dying any time soon, last time i checked." Sans propped his skull up with his hand and winked. "you ain't getting rid of me, if that's what you're implying."

"Eh. You're funny enough to keep around." She stacked her two empty plates and passed them off to a waiting Grillby, who whisked them behind the bar for cleaning. "You're like my court jester. I need you around to amuse me."

"amuse you, huh?" He reached behind the bar and plucked out a ketchup bottle, taking a swig. "is that all i'm good for?"

Y/N paused to take in what her companion was doing. "...uh...are you drinking ketchup?"

He raised a bone-brow at her. "yeah. and?"

She furrowed hers. "And...nothing, I guess. People have eaten weirder. There was actually this one guy who ate an entire airplane."

"no kidding?"

"I wish I was. People have eaten light-bulbs and furniture. I guess ketchup is mildly acceptable in comparison. We all have our quirks."

"wow. my primary and most favoritest form of sustenance has been downgraded to a quirk? i feel so offended right now."

"Uh-huh. You sound offended."

"i do, don't i?"

"Eh, not really. I guess your tone has to ketchup to your words."

Silence extended over the bar. Grillby poked his head out of the back-room to watch the fallout.

Sans blinked. "...did you just—"

Y/N held down her laughter, just for a second more. "I did."

Another moment passed. Then both of them burst into frenzied laughter. His cheekbones were aflame with color, like her cheeks were. A connection over a simple pun. Maybe a normal occurrence to anyone else was the tiniest spark between them, a sharing of hearts and the building of familiar ground to stand on. It was the beginning of something. Two souls meant to meet, meant to understand that they weren't quite alone, that there was someone else like them. Despite plunging into the darkness before, they found their way back into the light. They found a bridge between.

A little white smile emerged on Grillby's face as he watched Sans and Y/N converse animatedly about one thing or another. They fit so well together, two halves of a coin. Alike, but different enough to make things interesting.

The night (or, more accurately, morning) dragged on for another hour or so as they talked and made puns about themselves and the world and everything else between. Soon enough, it was 4 AM, and Grillby was kicking them out because he needed sleep, too. Sure, it wasn't fair, but that's the way of the world. Unfortunately. Sans and Y/N dragged their feet on the way home, prolonging their conversation as much as possible before they were at the door.

For once, neither of them had the energy to argue about who slept where. They sat next to each other on the couch and ended up passing out together, Sans leaning his head on Y/N's shoulder and she on his head. In the morning, maybe they would wake up embarrassed and blushing. Maybe Frisk would find them asleep together and take blackmail photos, running to tell Papyrus and proclaiming that they ship it. Maybe.

But then again, that didn't really matter as sleep came to them on swift and gentle wings, Sans's hand over Y/N's, and all was quiet and peaceful with the world.