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Frisk took some time to realize something was wrong.
I mean, it was a bit obvious in hindsight. Like how they never had the urge to go to the bathroom while underground (which was good, since the only bathroom they saw there was a Secret Lab in disguise) or how that monster at Grillby's mentioned monster food doesn't pass through the digestive system.
Monster food was pure magic. Perfectly converted in energy, no waste whatsoever.
And it was fine. Really.
Until it wasn't.
Monster food gave Frisk immediate energy and was tasty, so their body had no problems with it at first. But after a couple weeks living with Toriel, their brain seemed to catch up to the fact it had no real sustenance. Probably because their body started to struggle to find any nutrients. The magic energy rush wasn't enough anymore and they were hungry again a few minutes after each meal.
Frisk wasn't dumb. They knew it was bad. They knew they couldn't keep going with no real food. They knew they should say something. Still, when Toriel smiled at them and served a large slice of pie or a generous portion of dinner, they just... Couldn't.
"My child, are you feeling alright?" She glanced at Frisk, concern in her eyes, and Frisk forced a smile on their usually inexpressive face.
"Yeah, Mom, I'm good," They reassured her, "Just a bit tired," they added for credibility’s sake and then, as an afterthought, "thank you so much for cooking."
Toriel gave them a weird look for a second.
"Of course, dear. I'm happy to cook for you," she said, her warm smile not quite reaching her eyes, "try to get some rest after this, okay?"
Frisk nodded, eager to drop the matter. Dinner proceeded a bit too silent, but nothing too worrisome. Even so, they couldn't ignore it forever.
They opened their mouth to try and say something, anything, maybe an 'actually, could you make a human meal next time?' or a 'so, Mom, I was wondering... Why don't you try a human recipe for a change?' They cringed internally at both ideas and shoved a tasty forkful in their mouth instead.
They didn't want to offend Toriel. Make her sad, upset, mad. Frisk recoiled at the idea of Toriel in tears for how ungrateful they were. Shouting how she slaved herself over the stove to feed their ungrateful mouth. Tossing the plates at them or the glasses or fireballs.
No, Toriel wasn't like that, Frisk swatted the image away. She wouldn't do that.
Toriel's impassive face back in the Ruins as she ignored Frisk's pleas flashed in their mind. All the dodging fireballs and begging to deaf ears. Toriel wasn't like that, but they weren't going to push their luck.
They were lucky enough that Toriel even wanted to take them in. No need to add unnecessary complaints. Food was expensive after all.
Frisk stared at their reflection on the mirror. Pale, thin, lifeless eyes, pathetic stupid face and— No, it wasn't right. Not the time, they had to focus. Their eyes were always lifeless, they used to hear it all the time. How their inexpressive face was unsettling and freakish. And their face wasn't worse than usual. It left out paleness and thinness.
Maybe the lights here were bad. Either way, a bit more sunlight should fix it. And their cheeks were still kinda chubby, weren't they? It meant they had some time before Mom got worried enough to make a doctor appointment.
(Doctors were bad)
Well, the last thing they needed was adding dark circles under their eyes to the list of things wrong with them. Frisk headed to bed and waited for Toriel to tuck them in and kiss their forehead. A warm feeling spreading on their hollow body.
Yeah, they wouldn't give it up for some food, Frisk repeated again and again as their stomach grumbled.
Sleeping hungry wasn't the hardest part. It was almost easy. Well, not easy, but familiar. Frisk knew how to tune off the gargling sound and the hunger pangs. After all, eating used to be for good children only and Frisk wasn't always good enough.
(They flinched at the memory of a plate crashing on the wall near their head. Cold food splattering everywhere. Shouting and crying and go to you room now and don't come back)
Putting on a brave face wasn't the hardest part either. As it turned out, spending more time playing outside kept both the paleness and Toriel's worries at bay. A child playing outside must be healthy, right? And Frisk liked the distraction it provided to their growling stomach.
The hardest part was, unexpectedly enough, self-control. Holding back the urges to sneak into the kitchen and munch on something every ten minutes or so for the sweet relief of their tricked brain turning off hunger for a while. Eating slowly when all they wanted was to shove it down their throat. Chewing when they could feel the magic food disappearing between each bite, leaving nothing but emptiness to their belly.
Then school started, and Frisk had to steel themselves not to betray Mom. Because she went through the trouble of making them lunch and arranging their snacks beautifully. So Frisk ate them, because they weren't an ungrateful brat. Even if they stared longingly at the bland food school provided. Even if it hurt turning down friendly offers from curious kids to trade lunches.
When it became unsustainable, Frisk took a kid up on their offer. Their classmate looked overjoyed at the foreign, yummy taste of monster food; Frisk just hoped they didn't look too desperate wolfing down the sandwich and box juice.
They were a dirty traitor in the end. Forsaking their Mom's home-cooked meal for some cheap, industrialized junk food. Guilt took hunger's place at gnawing at Frisk's insides as they popped some candies in their mouth. Toriel would be so disappointed.
But it made their hand stop shaking so they could do their homework.
Papyrus brought it up one day to Frisk's dismay.
"HUMAN, ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?" his eyesockets somehow managed to convey worry, "YOU LOOK SICK. MAYBE YOU SHOULD REST."
And even though they dodged the question and brushed it off, there were just so many times these tactics could work. Sooner or later it would tick someone off.
"HUMAN, WOULD YOU LIKE SOME MORE? YOU KEEP STARING AT IT," Papyrus remarked before serving them a generous amount of spaghetti. Their third. It was just tasty emptiness, but at least it was tasty. Papyrus was improving.
Sans didn't comment on their voracious appetite (three servings? Really? How greedy of them, Frisk almost hung their head in shame) nor how they kept gobbling it down between bites, when they forgot to feign calm and chew slowly (they must look like a pig for sure). Papyrus actually looked proud when they asked for seconds, bragging on his honed cooking skills, but it shifted to concern when the seconds became thirds. Frisk was sure they messed up.
Maybe they shoudn't visit so often, Frisk thought, at least not to stay for dinner or lunch.
Then came the fateful night they stayed to sleep over. Just a night because Toriel had business out of town.
Frisk tried to play it cool. No asking for seconds, no wolfing food down, no grumbling stomach or shaking hands. Frisk got pretty good at hiding their hunger with time. They always knew how to avoid drawing attention to themselves, so it was just a matter of avoiding being looked too closely. Hide their hands if they were shaky, beat their stomach into surrender if needed until it stopped growling, smile through the emptiness.
Of course they had to spoil it all, Frisk thought bitterly. It should have been just a midnight snack. Easy, sneak in, eat, get out, back to bed and maybe finally sleep.
Or that was the plan. Sneaking into the pantry was easy enough, their steps were light and they were used to the faint dizziness enough to avoid stumbling on anything. And there was so much magic food that maybe the skeletons wouldn't even notice something was missing, right?
Frisk hoped so. They weren't thinking that straight, but they knew they wouldn't sleep tonight without it. And looking even more tired and miserable in the morning would be hard to conceal. So they grabbed the first thing they saw and shoved it in their mouth.
It was great. For about five seconds, then it all dissolved into nothing in their mouth and throat. Tasty disappointment. Frisk got some cookies from the jar, ate some raw seasoning, grabbed everything and anything to no avail. It wasn't enough anymore.
So they tried the fridge instead. Maybe there would be something more substantial there than in the pantry (of course there wouldn't. There was no substantial magic food. But Frisk wanted to fool themselves). All that was in there was leftover spaghetti and bottles of ketchup.
Worth a shot. Frisk quietly opened the lid of one bowl and shoved the pasta in their mouth with their bare hands. Maybe if they swallowed it whole without chewing, it would actually reach their stomach before disappearing.
They didn't hear the approaching footsteps until Papyrus turned the lights on.
"FRISK?" They jumped at his loud voice, so he lowered it a bit, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP AT THIS HOUR?"
They tried to open their mouth and say something, but it was still full. And what could they possibly say to justify swallowing cold spaghetti in the dark and in the middle of night? Not much.
Their mind provided that they were a thief. Sneaking in and stealing food like a rat.
Frisk felt tears pooling in their eyes and blinked hard. No, no, all they had to do was swallow the cold pasta so they could explain everything.... Somehow. No crying. If they did, Papyrus could get mad about their crocodile tears. It'd be bad.
Papyrus put his hand on their shoulder and they flinched.
"I"M SO SORRY," he said. Wait, what? "IT WAS SO CARELESS OF ME. AS YOUR HOST, I SHOULD HAVE SEEN YOU WERE STILL HUNGRY," No, it was wrong, they should be the one apologizing, "WHY DON'T YOU GO AND WASH UP WHILE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HEAT IT UP FOR YOU? SPAGHETTI TASTES BETTER WARM."
The pasta in their mouth finally dissolved into nothing, still they couldn't bring themselves to say a word. Their tongue felt like lead. So they hesitantly nodded and left Papyrus in the kitchen with the half eaten spaghetti and all the vestiges of their ravaging of the pantry.
Good thing Sans was such a heavy sleeper. The last thing Frisk needed was another worried and suspicious pair of eyes on them.
Their reflection in the mirror was more pathetic than usual. Cheeks, chin and hands covered in red cold sauce.
So their midnight snack became a midnight full-on dinner it seems. Papyrus kept them company at the table and, despite the one-sided small talk, Frisk knew he was anxious. Because of them. They swallowed the guilt alongside a forkful of pasta.
Frisk decided not to go to the skelebros house anymore.
Avoiding Sans' and Papyrus' house wasn't that hard. They just had to make up school projects, group studies after class, or say they had a bunch of homework. Toriel took anything school-related very seriously and usually left them alone if they said they didn't need help.
Frisk tried not to dwell on how easy lying was becoming.
Avoiding Undyne and Alphys was almost a by-product of all the lies, really. They were just too busy to see anyone for any extended amount of time. It didn't really matter if they were busy with fake homework or wallowing in misery, Frisk rationalized. Undyne would never let them alone if she thought there was something wrong, and Alphys was a doctor, it was just too dangerous.
Sure, she was not a doctor in the medical sense (or was she? Frisk wasn't sure what exactly was her expertise), but she was close enough. No doctors. Doctors would tell Mom that they were a liar. That they didn't appreciate her food. Then Mom could leave them because they were too much trouble, or because they lied, or because they ate their classmates' lunches instead of their own. Maybe the doctor would make them go back to their biological parents because they cooked human food. Or Toriel would drop them there herself.
No doctors.
"Frisk, dear, are you with me?" Toriel shook her paw slowly in front of their eyes. Frisk blinked hard once, then some more to disperse the dark spots on their vision. How many times had her called them?
"Yeah. Sorry, Mom," They lied easily, albeit sheepishly, "I... Got distracted."
Toriel had that look on her eyes that told Frisk she wanted to believe them. It made their hollow stomach churn.
"Alright. I'm just... Concerned. Maybe we should—"
Frisk quickly forced a smile on their lips to assure Toriel that no, it was not necessary; and yes, they were fine. The Boss Monster had brought up making a doctor appointment at least three or four times before, Frisk wasn't sure, time was a bit fuzzy. They lied through their teeth each time.
Yes, I'm fine.
No, I'm not feeling any pain.
Yes, I feel good.
No, no problem at all. Just tired from school.
Yes, human children look thinner right before growing up.
No, I'm not sick.
Yes, I'm sure.
Frisk thought they'd have to try harder, but it was okay. They'd live on determination alone if that's what it takes.
To Frisk's credit, they lasted over a month on school lunch alone and not seeing anybody for longer than a couple minutes a time. Making excuses, saving bubblegum and some chips to eat on the weekends, drinking lots of water to fill their stomach and keep their skin somewhat healthy-looking. It worked fine until it didn't.
The dark spots on their vision should have been a good enough warning. Or the growing shadows on the edges every time they blinked. Maybe the ringing in their ears when they got up too quickly or lay down or just walked. Frisk supposed their body gave them plenty of heads-up, too bad they were determined to ignore it.
Frisk blacked out and didn't even feel their body hitting the ground. Nor they heard Toriel's distressed noise as she hurried down the stairs.
When Frisk woke up, they noticed three things:
First, they were on Toriel's arms and being carried to their room.
Second, their head hurt. A lot.
And last but not least, they'd best get real creative real quickly if they hoped to avoid a visit to the hospital.
It was hard thinking in good excuses with foggy thoughts and a throbbing head, Frisk groaned in both pain and frustration. It drew Toriel's attention.
"My child, what happened? Are you hurt?"
"...No, I'm fine. Just... Tripped I guess," the excuse was lame to their own ears, but it'd have to make do. Since Toriel barely had time to scoop them up and walk to the stairs, they shouldn't have been out for more than a couple minutes. They could work with it, "I'm growing up. People can get a bit clumsy for a while." could they really blame everything on growing up? Frisk bit their tongue.
Toriel was silent whilst carrying them to their room and tucking them in bed. Finally, she spoke:
"Frisk," a foreboding feeling told them there was no way out this time. Toriel just called them by name when it was serious, "I know you don't like doctors, but..." She fiddled with her huge paws, "We ought to see one. I don't wish to impose, but that's final. We can't keep going like this."
Like this, Frisk thought bitterly. If only they were stronger. Better. Then Mom wouldn't be worried. No one would. All they had to do was eat monster food like all of them and they'd not have to be a liar.
Frisk hadn't noticed the tears until Toriel wiped them away.
"Shhh. I know doctors can be scary, but we have to go. You're so brave, you'll be fine. I promise," she embraced them.
But they weren't brave, Frisk cried harder. They were just a dirty liar. A high-maintenance burden. A freak. No wonders no one wanted to keep them. And now there was no way to run.
"No doctors," they mumbled, "no, no, no, please, no," they sobbed, desperate. Toriel's eyes widened as her child hyperventilated and struggled. The very same fearless child who freed them all.
In a loss of words, Toriel simply hugged them tighter and hummed softly until exhaustion won over and Frisk fell asleep.
Frisk woke up tucked neatly in their bed. The half-closed curtains dimmed the room while still allowing them to see the blue and orange sky. It must be dusk then. How long did they sleep?
It also let them see Sans sat next to their bed, yet not facing them. Frisk squinted to try and see if he was asleep. Why was he here anyway? They barely even saw each other lately, since Frisk came up with their excuses.
Oh. Maybe that was the problem. He was here to punish them. Mom must have called. Maybe she finally figured they were bad.
Suddenly Sans looked back at them. Too late to pretend to be sleeping. Great.
"hey, kid, slept well?" he sounded casual as always, but it didn't put Frisk at ease. They tried to swallow the lump in their throat and wondered if they could articulate something without stammering.
In the end, they settled for nodding.
"great. that's good to hear," the look on his eyes was hard to tell, "so... you've been pretty busy lately, uh? it's nice to have a chance to ketchup, buddy," he winked. Frisk remained impassive, focusing on their breathing whilst all the danger alarms in their brain went off.
"eh, well, i'll be straight with you. we are worried about you. have been for a while. then tori called saying you fainted and refuses to see a doctor," he summarized, "so, what's going on, kid?"
Frisk took a deep breath. When they spoke, their voice was barely above a whisper, but they managed to keep it steady enough.
"I'm just... Growing up."
"really? toriel said you say it a lot," his tone was neutral, "funny, you don't look taller at all, so i did my own research. dig things up a little, you know?"
Frisk felt cold sweat down their neck. Sans knew they were a dirty, no-good liar.
"apparently, kids don't lose weight before growing up. and they sure don't faint because of it," his eyesockets went dark, "wanna try again, buddy?"
"I- I-" Frisk choked on this one word, "I—" tears pooled in their eyes and silently flowed down their cheeks, "I just—"
Sans got up the chair and slowly sat on the bed besides them, movements slow and deliberate. The bed dipped under the weight and Frisk flinched. He took it as a cue to keep his distance, hands in his pockets.
"hey, buddy, pal, it's okay," as much as he wanted, he made no move to comfort them or wipe the tears, "we just wanna help ya."
It didn't seem to comfort Frisk at all. He decided to aim for a different approach:
"so... school's been a handful lately, uh? With all those assignments," Sans didn't really buy the busy with school excuse, but maybe he could start there, "maybe i could give you a hand? i'm not alphys level, but i'm no numbskull."
Frisk shook their head and started wiping their tears with their sleeves, almost rubbing their face raw. Sans' eyelights dimmed in concern when he peeked their bony hand and arm. He had seen the kid was too thin, but it got worse so quick.
He should have tried harder to keep in touch with them, he berated himself. He knew something was wrong; they all did. Toriel called every so often worried about losing another child and how Frisk wouldn't budge nor open up.
He grabbed their tiny wrist as gentle as he could to keep them from rubbing their upset eyes. Frisk went still immediately.
"hey, kiddo, it's okay," he let go of their wrist and they curled up on themselves. It wasn't good. Sans noticed how tiny and frail they were, almost as if they could disappear, "but the skeletal look doesn't really suit you."
Frisk tried to hug themselves tighter, but it offered no comfort; it wouldn't shield them from Sans' gaze. He would know they betrayed Mom. They ate their friends' lunches instead. They lied. He would get so mad. Maybe even offended in Mom's behalf.
They couldn't take it anymore. New tears fell freely on their sore face.
"I'm sorry!" Frisk wailed, "I love Mom's food! I swear!"
Sans had no reaction for a second. It was... A real dramatic change of subject. How did the kid even link the two things? Of course they loved Toriel's food.
"...yeah, tori is a great cook," he played along, albeit confused, "what are you sorry for?"
Frisk raised their head just enough to peek at him. Maybe if they came clean, he wouldn't punish them so hard. Their brain provided plenty of evidence on the contrary, but they were just so tired. Like they didn't even rest in the first place.
"I'm sorry," they mumbled again, head on their knees, "I was eating Mom's food at school, I promise I was. But then—" their whispered confession got stuck in their throat.
Meanwhile, Sans struggled to keep up with the low, weak voice broken every now and then for a sob. The kid was distressed because... They traded lunch at school sometimes?
"I was just... So... Hungry."
Sans felt his eyes darkening and looked away. The kid seemed frightened enough as it was, he had to keep his composure. Hungry. The word sat heavy as the silence stretched. He remembered all the times Frisk ate with them and tried to reconcile the image of a child eating enough to feed the whole Underground with the one of a starving child.
Papyrus mentioned Frisk's little raid on the kitchen in the middle of the night. Sans assumed they just got a craving for a midnight snack and got embarrassed to ask. He felt like an idiot.
(Maybe he was a bonehead after all, heh.)
Somehow, it raised more questions than it answered. He took a deep, unnecessary breath.
"i'll need a bit more information, buddy," he said as gently as he could, "are you hungry now?" First things first. His nonexistent guts dropped at the idea of being interrogating a hungry kid all this time.
Frisk glanced at him unsure for a second, then nodded just once, the movement easy to miss in the poorly-lit room.
"want me to ask toriel for some pie?"
They shook their head.
"I have some bubblegum in my backpack," Frisk admitted, looking ashamed.
Sans concern grew.
Frisk kept their hands behind their back mindlessly, so used to hide their tremors it was second nature. Whether they were caused by hunger or fear was up to debate though. And they were sure Sans saw it when they reached for the bubblegum.
He should be mad. They just admitted to not eating Mom's home-cooked food at school. To trading all the love put there for cheap junk. Sans hated liars, he should hate them now too. And soon Mom would too. And Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys. They were better off without a pesky, ungrateful liar.
Frisk looked away not to see Sans’ judgmental eyes and chewed harder on the gum as the artificial flavor tricked their brain.
At least they had a good life for a while, before their dumb body decided it couldn't live with the provided food.
"so, kiddo," Sans kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze just vaguely on their direction. Frisk appreciated the small mercy, "care to explain what exactly is going on?"
Just get it over with, Frisk thought, forcing their heavy tongue to move in their dry mouth. The weak words scratching their throat and sounding hollow to their ears.
"I'm sorry," Frisk repeated, "It's just... Monster food... It tastes good, but it... Just... Disappears." They couldn't blame it all on the food. Not when the fault was theirs. "I'm so sorry, Sans."
Sans let it sink in for a second. Really, it should have been obvious. It was obvious. So how could they all miss this frickin' detail? That's what happens when you live with something, you lose perspective. Monster food was so natural to them that they forgot it wasn’t the only one. They never thought it could be the problem. He never considered it.
Some scientist he was.
He looked at the kid curled up in bed, trembling and miserable; red, puffy eyes from crying. Frisk was determined, and Sans got a hard reminder determination goes both ways. It had been months since they came to the surface. Months that the kid desperately ate what was essentially nothing to them and kept going through sheer stubbornness. Months with Frisk withering away whilst having plenty of food. And that was cruel.
"i'm the one who's sorry, kid," he sighed. How could he even apologize enough for something this big? "you did nothing wrong, frisk. nothing at all, hear me?" Frisk looked doubtful at him, like these were the last words they expected, and Sans felt his soul ache a little.
What makes a kid so scared they'd rather starve than speak up?
Sans felt an incoming headache just from thinking how he'd explain it to Toriel and the others. But for now:
"how about i get you some real dinner, uh, buddy? something more, uh, substantial than bubblegum," he saw them perking up at the offer, then lowering their head like they were ashamed. He kept his voice even, "it's no problem, really."
Frisk seemed to ponder over it for a while and Sans wanted to scream. What was there to think? They were hungry, they should eat. As simple as that.
"Don't tell Mom," They said finally, voice small, "please. I don't want her to get mad."
Mad? Tori would never get mad at Frisk for being hungry. Sans held his tongue. Arguing with the kid was the least thing he needed. For now.
"fine, i'll just get your food, not a word to anyone for now. sound good?"
Frisk nodded and, for the first time this night, Sans saw the determined kid they met underground.
Okay, it was... A lot of information to digest (heh, not funny) in one day. Sans took an unnecessary deep breath and decided to focus on the problem on hand: get the kid food. Human food. Food they could eat.
Should be simple enough. He stepped out of the room and got a shortcut right to the nearest grocery store. Tori and Papyrus would probably stock a ton of human food in their kitchens after he broke the news... When he broke the news. Frisk seemed adamant on him not telling anyone, but it just wouldn't do. He'd have to convince the kid or break his promise (why did he keep making those again?)
As much as he was tempted to just grab some noodles or a can of pre-made soup, Frisk deserved some real, home-cooked dinner after subsisting on bubblegum and who-knows-what-more for months. He gathered some fresh ingredients and prepared himself for dodging Tori's and Papyrus' worried questions and convince them (mostly Toriel) to help him cook.
"knock, knock."
Frisk's head perked up. They thought Sans would just teleport back to their room or something, not bother with the door.
Then, again, he did love knock knock jokes. Just like Mom. It had been so long since she made one though... Since she got worried about them, Frisk felt the familiar guilt crawling on their skin.
"Who's there?" They could as well entertain him. It was the least they could do after throwing all their problems at him like an ungrateful brat.
"justin."
"Justin who?"
"justin time for dinner, i hope," Sans came in with a bowl of something on hand and closed the door with a quiet click. Frisk's mouth watered by the smell alone and their stomach grumbled at the reminder that real food did in fact exist.
(Monster food never smelled that good, Frisk thought at the back of their mind)
Sans pretended not to notice their reaction, lest he embarrass them or make them defensive again, and took calm steps to the bed. Talking Toriel out of bringing Frisk dinner herself was tough, but that was something he had to do.
"hey, kid," he faked nonchalance, "we made you some soup. your mom did most of the work, though... my bro and i basically just chopped the veggies," he held the bowl and the spoon out to Frisk, who sat up and took them hesitantly, eyes down.
Good enough for now. And soup should go easy on their stomach.
"...Thanks.”
"no problem, buddy," Sans smiled despite the ache in his soul, sitting at the edge of the bed, "glad you like it."
Frisk sipped at the spoon and the rich flavor filled their mouth. So good. The warm broth settled just right in their stomach, the hollowness fading little by little. They hoped they didn't look too desperate when each spoonful was fuller and faster than the last.
"woah, kid, slow down," Sans touched their shoulder lightly and they froze. Stupid. Unmannered. Eating like an animal, "it's okay. take your time, you'll end up choking," he clarified, taking his hand back, "but it's good to know you like our cooking that much. maybe we should come and help tori in the kitchen more often, uh?"
Frisk contemplated their soup for a while and Sans feared they wouldn't eat it anymore after the 'slow down' comment. But what else was he supposed to do? Let the kid choke?
"Did you tell them?" they said at last, "Mom and Papyrus?"
Oh, so that's what it was about.
"nope," he kept his gaze on them, "i said i wouldn't, didn't i? not a word," hopefully it would be reassuring enough.
Sure, Tori looked ready to shake the truth out of him as soon as he stepped in the house, concern laced in her voice and in her every move. And yeah, convincing her to make soup even though Frisk had had dinner without explaining why didn't help at all. But he wasn't about to tell the kid their Mom was worried sick about losing another child to an illness.
Frisk relaxed their shoulders somewhat and went back to sip the soup, slowly and more self-conscious, but at least they were eating. Sans let relief wash over his body and decided to wait for them to finish it before saying anything too serious.
Confronting Frisk on a full-stomach would be easier, he told himself. And it would give him time to ease the kid into the conversation at the very least.
The room was eerily quiet, like Frisk was trying very hard not to make a sound. The dip of the spoon in the broth nigh inaudible and every tiny swallow muffled and meek. When they were almost done, Frisk willed themselves not to scrape the spoon against the plate, as if the silence would protect them. As if they wouldn't be safe if they were loud.
Sans fiddled with his gloves whilst looking for the right words to start with, but Frisk beat him to it:
"...Thanks again," they forced the words through their throat, "And... I'm sorry."
"what?" Sans grimaced, "whatever for?"
"I... Made you go shopping. And made Mom have to cook again, and you and Papyrus... Food is expensive," their voice trembled, "I swear I didn't want to bother any of you, I'm sorry," they curled up, hiding their wet eyes on their knees. Stupid. Crying over having food. Stupid, stupid, stupid, "I'm sorry."
Sans' eyes went dark and he didn't even have the presence of mind to conceal it. Was the kid serious? What kind of child worries about food being expensive? Or that providing for them is a burden? He didn't even think as he embraced their tiny, trembling body, trying to give them any amount of comfort.
He never felt so hopeless.
"hey, Frisk, look at me, will ya?" he nudged them a little, coaxing their head up, watery eyes locked on dimmed eyelights, "feeding you is not and will never be a bother. you're not a burden. not for anything, but especially not for having to eat," he never thought he'd have to say these words, but it seemed Frisk needed them right now, "we just want you to be happy."
They nodded, their throat too tight to push any words through, and let their head lean limp on Sans shoulder. The dam broke, tears flowing freely and ruining his jacket, but Frisk didn't have it in them to apologize. A quiet sob forced its way out their mouth, but there was no sound otherwise.
Sans rubbed calming circles on their back and let them get it all out. He wanted to say it was okay, but it'd be just mindless, empty words. It wasn't okay. Not in the slightest. They could have lost the kid to starvation because Frisk was apparently terrified of demanding anything.
"it'll be okay," he said instead and damn it, there he goes making promises again.
Though he couldn't bring himself to care, not when it made Frisk finally return the hug.
"it'll be okay, kid," he repeated for good measure.
Toriel paced back and forth in the living room for what felt like hours, resisting the urge to either tiptoe her way to Frisk's room or to stress bake pies until she ran out of ingredients.
What was taking Sans so long?
First he sneaks off to some grocery shopping of all things (like they hadn't a pantry full of food), then he asks for her help to make soup at this hour and don't say a word about Frisk, and now he asks her to wait for who knows how long while he presumably talks to her child.
If it were anyone else, Toriel would say they were asking for too much.
"IT'LL BE OKAY, LADY ASGORE," Papyrus said from the kitchen (he insisted on helping with the dishes) and she didn't even have the will to correct him, "SANS MAY BE A LAZYBONES, BUT HE GETS FRISK. IT'LL BE ALRIGHT," he guaranteed with such conviction Toriel couldn't help but smile.
Yeah, if someone could get through Frisk, it was Sans. She swallowed back the bitter feeling the thought brought. What kind of mother she even was?
Light footsteps on the stairs cut the self-flagellating thoughts. Sans was coming down, hands in his pockets and a hesitant Frisk following close, almost hiding behind him.
"hey," he stopped by the foot of the stairs, Frisk made no move to get closer either, "thanks for helping with the soup. frisk really liked it, right, kid?" Frisk nodded emphatically, eyes down and hands clutching the empty bowl.
"HI, SANS, FRISK," Papyrus greeted back, walking in.
The silence stretched just a bit too long to be comfortable. Sans coughed unnecessarily to clear his throat and stall for time.
Convincing the kid to tell Tori and the others wasn't that hard. Frisk was a smart child, they knew it was the best course of action... He just wished they hadn't asked him to explain everything. That was a lot of work for one day.
Better than having the kid hurting though. He could do it. Sans steeled himself when he saw Toriel crossing her arms and staring a hole into his skull. He was abusing her patience at the point.
"so..." he started, eyeing Frisk from sideways every now and then just to make sure they were comfortable enough, "good news, frisk isn't sick."
Relief crossed Toriel's face for a second, quickly replaced by bewilderment. Before she could ask, the skeleton began to explain how human food and monster food differed. And how just one of them could really feed Frisk beyond an energy rush. He tried to keep it technical, like a science report, voice even and allowing the new information to sink in.
He saw the moment it made sense to them, Toriel clutching her hands together and Papyrus' eyesockets widening. He wondered vaguely if his own reaction was this obvious back in Frisk's room. If it was part of what made them so uneasy.
He reached for their hand and squeezed it once. It's not your fault, he hoped the gesture conveyed the words.
"I—" Frisk tried, suddenly feeling all eyes on them, "I'm sorry," they gathered all the determination they could muster and kept on, Sans was proud, "I just... Didn't think it was so bad. I didn't want to bother any of you," the more they repeated the words, the worse the excuse seemed. But maybe it wasn't a bad thing.
Toriel moved to hug them, movement slow and hesitant, and Frisk let go of Sans' hand to meet her halfway, melting in the fluffy embrace. Papyrus started to apologize for 'being a bad host' and 'not making the right food' and then 'he should've done better as the future best cook of the surface', so Sans went to pat him on the back and assure him it was okay. There was already more than the fair share of people blaming themselves on that room.
Even so, Sans couldn't help but think it would get better from then on. Even if just a little bit.
Just like Sans predicted, Toriel packed up the pantry with as much human food as she could get. Papyrus made sure to stock up more than any reasonable person would ("what about when the human comes to visit us, Sans?"), and even Alphys, Undyne and Asgore followed the trend, albeit more reasonably. All in all, they could probably feed a small country together by now.
Hope you know how lucky you are, kid, he thought, having all these people caring for you.
Frisk was still skittish around them for weeks afterwards, but it was vanishing little by little. At least they gained weight again, their skin got a healthy color and they didn't look miserable. Sans couldn't even describe the relief it gave his soul.
"so, is it ready?" he entered the kitchen with cautious steps, as any sensible person would when Papyrus and Undyne are the ones in charge of the kitchen.
The two of them were having fun recently learning how to cook human food, which was significantly different from cooking monster food. How any of their houses hadn't burned down yet was anybody's guess.
Frisk was coming over for dinner for the first time since that night, and they all wanted things to go smooth. Toriel even sent Papyrus some cooking tips to make sure it'd all be okay. Obviously, it would be spaghetti.
"it looks pasta-tively delicious, bro," he commented, peeking over Papyrus shoulder. It earned him a snort from Undyne and an indignant sound from his brother.
"Oh, Sans, stop," Undyne faked a serious tone, "You know you'll spaghetti at his nerves!"
"heh, good one."
"You're prepastarous! The both of you!"
...Yeah, it would be a good dinner. Nothing to worry about.
The kid liked puns after all. And Toriel would be there to crack her jokes as well. Good food, good laughs, just like a family should.