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Chapter Text

A doorbell chimes above the door to your shop, but you barely pay any attention, too absorbed in your book to care. Hopefully whoever this unlucky customer is, they will find your silence off-putting and leave before they can pick anything out.

Though the magic signature this monster is putting out is strange, like they're hiding themselves inside a box. You frown, staring at a sentence without reading it. You've only ever sensed this particular magic signature on one person before...

"You again?" You ask flatly, raising your eyes to see a skeleton grinning at you from the other side of the counter.

"what, you missed me?" He chuckles.

"Never," you reply, eyes going back down to your book. Where did you leave off...?

"hold on, don't ignore me just yet," he says. "i'm actually here on important business."

"Right..." you drawl. Your gaze finds the sentence that you just read, and you prepare to forget all about the annoying skeleton and dive back into the studies on mages of the 18th century.

A gloved hand is placed above the text, blocking your view. You look up to find the skeleton practically lying on the table to reach for your book, all the while smiling smugly up at you.

"Are you out of your mind?" You growl, pushing him away with a hand on his skull.

"i dunno, am i on yours?" He laughs, standing back up into his slouched position that makes him look even shorter than he already is.

You glare at him, but he's still standing there, undeterred. Groaning, you put your head in your hands.

"Fine," you say. "What do you want."

"the royal scientist wants a book on the magics," he says. "got any around here?"

You just look at him wordlessly for a moment, wondering how stupid a person can be.

"Did you never read the name of the shop," you say. "That's the only thing I sell in here."

Well, that was factually incorrect in two ways: you also sold copies of human games you found at the dump, and the books you had on the shelves weren't usually for sale, per se. But you already explained that to the skeleton the last ten times he's been in here, and you've never been the one to repeat yourself eleven times.

"oh, really?" He asks, feigning surprise. "i guess i never did. anywho, can i get one?"

You close your eyes, rubbing at your temples. "Which one."

"huh?"

"Which book?" You say, sighing. "There are many areas of 'magics', as you ignorantly put it. The more accurate term would be 'arcane studies', or, perhaps, 'magical science'. Now, a book on which subject does the royal scientist desire?"

After you finish, you look at the skeleton expectantly. He just looks back at you with that same dumb smile.

"you know, you're really good at talking," he says.

You drop your head onto the table.

***

When you finally extrude the information on the book from the skeleton, it turns out that the Royal Scientist is interested in soul magic. You innerly frown at that (that's certainly a dangerous area of magic to play with), but remain quiet - best not to voice your opinion out loud.

You stand in aisle three, looking through the shelves stacked with books. You assume the Royal Scientist wants something more in-depth than a simple study on how souls work. No doubt he has read half of the books in your arsenal already.

The skeleton (who introduced himself when he first walked into your shop, but you didn't bother remembering) loiters behind you, looking. Of course he would be interested, you think. Your shop is an ideal example of organization and tidiness: not a dust fleck in sight. Considering the dark stain on the skeleton's shirt, you gather that he isn't used to being in such pristine places.

"Don't touch anything," you tell him over your shoulder.

You see his hand jerking back from one of the books as he gives you an innocent look. "wasn't going to," he says. You only sigh and turn back to the shelf.

After a bit more searching, you pull out a heavy tome with yellowed pages. It's a book written by one of the long deceased monsters before the war. This isn't the original, of course, just a copy, but considering how few of those there are in existence, you treasure it nevertheless.

You turn around and look down at the skeleton. He's still staring at you with that unwavering smile.

Hesitantly, like you're tearing your own leg off, you offer the book to him. "Here. 'On the Nature of Souls'. First edition."

He takes the book from your hands and nearly falls forward when the full weight of it hits him. "oof-"

You feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards, but you school your expression back into a frown.

"Better not drop it," you say.

"or what, you're gonna kill me?" He challenges, looking up at you.

"Yes."

He chuckles, probably not sensing how serious you are. Then you feel a magical surge coming from him, and you're washed over with the same cold, imprisoning energy that has been coming from him the whole time in waves. Usually you can tune out other monsters' magical signatures, but not with him. Which was strange with how confined it was.

The book is surrounded by a light blue glow and raised into the air, relieving the skeleton of its weight. He exhales heavily.

"so, how much is it?" He asks you.

Your eyes immediately narrow. "You're not buying it. I'm only letting you borrow it."

"i wasn't aware this was a librarby," he raises a brow bone.

"It's not," you say. "Normally I wouldn't let anyone touch this book, let alone borrow it, but I'm making an exception."

His smile turns into a smirk. "oh damn, you're breaking your values for little old me? you really do like me."

"Not you," you sneer. "I'm making an exception for the Royal Scientist. His research is important for finding a way to break the barrier."

"hey, i'm helping too, you know?" He says.

"Yes, yes. Helping with your insufferable personality, I bet."

That makes him laugh, for some reason. "so, when do i return this?"

"It's a long read, but a month's time should be enough," you say. "Don't show your face around here until then."

"k," he grins. "see you tomorrow."

You groan into your hands, but thankfully the skeleton leaves your shop at that, the book floating in the air behind him. You follow him out and flip the sign outside to "Closed". That's enough social interaction for today.

That evening, when you're tidying up the shop as you do daily, you notice a piece of paper sticking out of one of the books that wasn't there before. You carefully pull it out.

"stheskeleton"
"text me ;)"

Hell no.

You crumple up the paper and throw it into the trash. Hopefully that "stheskeleton" won't come around again.

You know that's not going to happen.

Chapter Text

"Y-you should really try this one," Alphys says, sliding a battered game case across the counter. You study the picture: it displays the game's name along with a golden monster with spikes on their shoulders and head. "It's about f-friends traveling around the world to save the planet, but it's got really good humor. I think you'll appreciate the themes."

"Thank you, Alphys," you say, taking the case and hiding it in your "to play" drawer. You usually don't take game recommendations, but Alphys had an excellent taste (anime not included), so you usually trusted her on the issue. "I'll add it to my backlog."

"O-okay," she says, her hands twitching as she shuffles on her feet. Her tail is curled around her protectively, and she keeps on glancing at your face before looking away.

"Something the matter?" You ask.

"Uhm..." She starts and then hesitates. "So, uh, how mad would you be at me if I, uh... gave your Undernet handle to a collegue?"

"You what," you say flatly.

"Hypothetically!" She blurts out. "If that colleague was really bugging me about it, and wouldn't stop asking me about it until I gave it to him."

You try to shape your expression into a gentle smile, but considering Alphys's scared flinch, it comes out more like a grimace. "Hypothetically, I wouldn't be mad at you. Sounds like you had no choice but to give in."

Although were you in her situation, you would've told that person to go fuck themselves, but you know Alphys was always on the shier side.

"A-alright then," Alphys says. "So I, uh, might've given your Undernet handle to Sans."

She then shields her face with both hands, as if you were ever one to strike others. You just blink in confusion.

"Who's Sans?" You ask.

"U-uh," Alphys stutters, lowering her hands. "Sans? Sans the Skeleton? He helps around the lab?" When she doesn't see any trace of recognition on your face, she continues. "His father is the Royal Scientist? He, uh, brought a book on soul magic from your shop yesterday?"

Ah. That skeleton.

"You gave my Undernet handle to him?" You say through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry!" Alphys squeals. "It's just- He wouldn't stop talking to me about you, and I mentioned how we were friends on the Undernet, and then he-"

"It's okay, Alphys," you say calmly. "I can just block him if he decides to text me. It's not a big deal."

"S-sure..." she says, sounding like she's definitely not sure. "Anyway, I'll get going..."

"Alright," you nod, already turning away to reach for a book you've been reading. "Do bring more games if you find them."

But Alphys is already out of the door. You wonder why she's in such a hurry all of a sudden.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Well, that's not good.

You pull it out with a sigh and check your most recent unread messages.

stheskeleton: heya
stheskeleton: alph gave me your handle, hope that's cool

You furiously type back.

you: It is not "cool". I would rather I did not get assaulted with your irritating presence online as well as in-person.

Although at least like this you didn't feel his magical signature pressing down onto you.

stheskeleton: hey, look at that. you even type with proper grammar and everything
stheskeleton: that's hilarious
stheskeleton: anyway, i wanted to say
stheskeleton: knock knock

You stare at the screen blankly. That skeleton was not seriously trying to hit you with a knock-knock joke right now.

you: You're blocked.

With that, you press a button above his name in the chat and press "Yes, I am sure" when the UI asks you. Thankfully that's a quicker and less painful process than getting rid of him in real life.

You get comfortable in your chair and pull your latest book towards you again. You open the page you bookmarked and start reading where you left off when your phone goes off again. You pull it out of your pocket, thinking that's probably Alphys telling you she forgot something at your shop (as she often does), but instead you're greeted with...

legendary_fartmaster: wow, blocked already?
legendary_fartmaster: i am crushed. devastated. beside myself with grief.
legendary_fartmaster: how could you resign me to such a fate?

You feel one of your eyes start to twitch.

you: What.
legendary_fartmaster: oh yeah, this is sans btw
legendary_fartmaster: anywho, as i was saying
legendary_fartmaster: knock knock

Without any hesitation, you block that account too.

Not even a minute later, your phone buzzes again.

punmaker69: blocked again?
punmaker69: and here i was thinking we had something special
you: Stop texting me. I blocked you.
punmaker69: who, me?
punmaker69: no, you blocked sans
punmaker69: this is me, cursive. a completely different skeleton

Blocked.

Buzz buzz.

bonezone: oh, come on
bonezone: tough crowd

Blocked.

sansational: i can do this all day, just so you know

Blocked.

bone_appetit: i gotta admit, this is pretty humerus

Blocked.

the_real_sans: but it's also getting kind of old

You groan, dropping your head into your hands as you stare down at the phone on the table. This was inevitable, wasn't it? He was just as unavoidable online as he was in real life.

You give up.

you: What do you want.
the_real_sans: success
the_real_sans: so
the_real_sans: knock knock
you: I don't do knock knock jokes.

Or, well, jokes at all.

the_real_sans: oh, come on
the_real_sans: it's simple. i say knock knock. you say who's there. then i say something. and you say something who?
the_real_sans: and then comes the joke
you: I know how a knock knock joke works.
the_real_sans: of course, i just told you
the_real_sans: you're a quick learner
the_real_sans: so. here goes nothing
the_real_sans: knock knock

You sigh, but then an idea comes into your head and you snicker to yourself.

you: Who's there?
the_real_sans: wendy
you: Something who?

Your snicker turns into a full-blown cackle. The sound is loud in the usually quiet shop, and you force to stop yourself.

the_real_sans: damn, i just got got
the_real_sans: gotta admit, you're pretty good
the_real_sans: but for real this time
the_real_sans: knock knock

You allow yourself a private little victorious smile. Your fingers clicking against the buttons on your phone, you quickly type out a response.

you: Who's there?

And this time you don't block him.

Chapter Text

Something terrible has happened.

You're actually starting to enjoy your text conversations with the skeleton.

You're not sure at what point it happened, but when you got up this morning and saw a new notification from him ("don't you think that it's ridiculous how souls are shaped like cartoon hearts?"), you immediately started typing out a reply without even getting out of bed. This resulted in an argument in which you insisted that the shape of souls is caused by a mind's metaphorical understanding of the concept, and the skeleton argued that whoever came up with that was just plain lazy.

By the time you saw how long you have been texting, an hour has passed already, which greatly disrupted your morning routine. Besides, you had important business to attend to today. No time to waste by texting annoying skeletons.

And so, you leave the last message from him on read and turn your phone to silent mode. You finally get out of bed, eat breakfast, and go downstairs to your shop, where your new project awaits you on the counter.

Last evening, a frost elemental monster came by and dropped off this malfunctioning magical artifact. It is a music box, larger than most due to an additional compartment for a magical core inside. The owner said it was a family heirloom, enchanted with the ability to bring pleasant dreams while playing, but instead it brought nightmares. You suspected that after years of use a dust particle or something got inside the arcane mechanism, and reversed the magic's effect, but you'd have to disassemble the music box to make sure.

You sit down at the counter and get to work. First you take out all of the parts of the music box that actually pertain to it playing music, just to get them out of the way. Then you weave a conduit spell around the artifact - a necessary step, otherwise the core would cease functioning after you pull it out.

Opening a drawer, you take out a pair of tweezers. Extracting the magical core is a delicate procedure, any wrong step could cause it to overheat and expel its energy all at once. That's why most monsters came to specialists like you with their broken artifacts instead of trying to fix them alone like idiots.

You lean down closer to the core compartment, focusing all of your attention on it. The tweezers snap around the crystal core, and you start to carefully pull it out.

A magic surge like a gust of cold wind rushes through your system, and a voice says next to your head, "hey, why are you ignoring me?"

You drop the core.

Immediately, the air feels tighter as the magic goes haywire, emitting a trilling sound. You try to create a shield around the music box, but the unstable magic's oscillations break through your net.

The glow of the core gets brighter, and it starts vibrating.

"well, that's not good," says the skeleton at your side, and what is he doing here. Before you can say anything to him, he grabs your arm. You're about to snatch it back and tell him off for touching you, but then the magic field around you gets filled with that familiar imprisoning signature, and the next moment you're standing outside your shop.

You barely have any time to understand what's happening before you're trying to rush back in, but something holds you in place. You look down to see your soul has been turned blue.

"Let me go!" You shout at the skeleton over your shoulder, who's standing there with his hand outreached towards you, his left eye flickering blue and yellow.

"nah, don't think so," he says. "i like you with all your limbs attached."

"But- My books!"

"are less important than you being alive."

Your finger twitches, and a magic attack shoots out towards the skeleton. He swiftly sidesteps it and you gape at him. You've never seen anyone do that besides the King and yourself.

Then a deafening boom emits out of your shop.

You cry out and attempt to run inside once again, but the blue magic is keeping you stationary. You tug at the spell's manifolds, trying to tear it apart, and it tightens around you like a vice. You choke on cold air.

"hold still," the skeleton says behind you, sounding strained.

"Let me the fuck go!" You yell. He doesn't obey.

You're forced to watch as smoke comes out of your windows. A crowd gathers around you, whispering and pointing at the shop as you helplessly flail in place. Another scream rips out of your throat.

The smoke eventually subsides, and you feel the blue magic let you go. You almost fall over in relief, and, after a brief second of finding your footing, you barge in inside.

The epicenter of the catastrophe is your counter. It has a huge hole in it, blackened at the edges. The music box is gone completely.

But you don't care about that. You bolt towards the bookshelf located right behind the table. The book's spines have been completely scorched. You pull out one - "Soul Adaptation to Life Threatening Circumstances" -, and it leaves dark marks on your hand. When you open it, the pages turn to ash under your fingers.

You feel your soul cracking.

"heh, i guess this whole thing really blew up in our faces, huh?" The skeleton says from the doorway, that annoying smug tilt in his voice.

You turn around slowly, clutching the burnt book to your chest. "Are you serious right now?"

"hey, just trying to lighten the mood," he shrugs, looking at you with that smile on his face, though it falters slightly upon seeing your expression. "listen-"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" You show him the remains of the book. "This was a limited edition study on souls. Only three copies in the entire Underground. And now there's two, thanks to you."

"well, look at the bright side," he says, his grin returning full force. Your hands clench. "now it's more rare! gotta be a real collector's item, right?"

You stare in him at silence for a long moment before speaking again.

"Get out."

His eyelights flicker. "hey, look, i didn't mean to-"

"Get. Out," you say firmly, showing him towards the door. He spares you one final look before turning around and leaving.

When he's gone, you finally allow yourself to let out a shaky exhale that definitely does not sound like a sob. You kneel down and start picking up the books that have fallen to the ground.

Books. They're just books.

The lie doesn't sound comforting to you.

Chapter Text

You spent the rest of the day trying to fix the consequences of the explosion, so you go to sleep later than usual. The next day, you jolt awake to the sound of your alarm, and you blindly reach for the clock to turn it off. Your back aches from all the time spent bent over scrubbing the floors from ash, and your fingers still smell of cleaning supplies.

Groggily, you reach out for your phone and squint at the screen to check your notifications. You have unread messages from Alphys as well as from that skeleton. You check Alphys's first.

ALPHYS: OMG I heard about what happened
ALPHYS: Are yoy okay?
ALPHYS: *you
ALPHYS: Please tell me if I can help!!

You swipe them away. You're not in the mood to talk right now.

Hesitantly, you check the other notifications.

the_real_sans: hey
the_real_sans: i'm sorry about what happened
the_real_sans: guess i really blew it, heh
the_real_sans: shit not the time yeah
the_real_sans: look i feel terrible
the_real_sans: please tell me what i can do

You scoff. Even right now, he's still making puns about the whole situation. He can't take anything seriously, can he?

You block him.

After going through your usual morning routine, you descend downstairs. You're planning on taking the day off to fix your counter and the rest of the salvageable books (which weren't many of them). Rubbing at your eyes, you step into the shop and freeze.

A massive figure stands next to the entrance, having to tilt his head down to fit inside the small confines of the shop. Upon seeing you, a wide friendly smile spreads across his features, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Good morning," he says. "I thought I'd stop by. Hope you don't mind company."

You do very much mind, and he knows that. But you've never been able to say no him.

"Your Majesty," you answer in greeting. "Good to see you."

"Please, I told you, no need for such formalities," his smile falters slightly. "You are still my... child, after all."

You look away. Let the old man think as he wishes.

"I heard about what happened," Asgore continues when no reply from you follows. "I'm very sorry about your loss. I know how important these books were to you."

"Nothing to be done now," you shake your head. "It is what it is."

"I suppose so," Asgore agrees. He approaches you, his horns almost hitting the ceiling. You have to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. "Still, I brought something that might help."

He reaches into his robes and pulls out a book, offering it to you. You take it and gasp when you read the title.

"'Soul Adaptation to Life Threatening Circumstances'?" You say, unable to believe your eyes. It's the copy from the Royal Library, no doubt. "But... how did you know?"

"A certain skeleton came by yesterday evening," Asgore says and you immediately frown. "He was quite distraught, looking for any information on this book."

"Was he now," you reply flatly. You don't care how bad that that skeleton feels when the whole incident is his fault in the first place.

"Yes. He spent the whole night looking for this book. Would only leave when I forced him to," chuckles Asgore.

You huff. Good. Let that skeleton lose his sleep.

"Well, thank you, Your Majesty," you say. "I'll be sure to copy the book and return it as soon as possible."

Asgore only laughs again, the sound low and booming. "No, no, there's no need for that. You can have the book. I'm sure there isn't anyone else in the Underground who'd appreciate it more than you."

"But..." You wince, clutching the book to your chest. "This is from the Royal Library, you can't just give it to me."

"I'm the King, I am very much in the position to do exactly that," he says, placing a heavy paw on your shoulder. "Take it, my child."

You frown at the moniker, but nod. "Thank you."

"You are always welcome. I hope you know that," he says, removing his paw.

You stand in silence for a moment before you clear your throat. "Is there anything else that you need, Your Majesty?"

"Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me," Asgore smiles. "I have been talking with the Royal Scientist. He wanted to thank you for lending that book on soul magic for his research purposes."

"Oh, right," you say, blinking.

To be honest, you forgot all about that. Half of you even thought that when that skeleton came by for that book, it was just another trick to annoy you, but apparently he really did deliver it to the Royal Scientist.

"He said the book was very informative, but he thinks the team needs someone with more expertise on the matter," Asgore continues, giving you a raised eyebrow.

"...Alright?" You reply, rather confused about why the King brought this up. "You know I'm not a people person, I don't know anyone who could help-"

"I was talking about you," Asgore cuts you off gently. You have to take a moment to think about what he means by that, and then you splutter.

"Wha- Me? But I- I don't have any background in soul science, I've only ever read the books-"

"And that made you quite the expert on the matter, hasn't it?" Asgore says, leaning down further to you level. "Why, I remember when you were still in stripes, you used to talk about the composition of soul over dinner like it was regular tea talk!"

"That's not... Still..." You try to object, but you don't have any arguments left.

The prospect of working with the Royal Scientist was never something that you even thought about. The people that worked with him were all educated specialists with degrees, while you were just a hobbyist, even if a very well-read one.

Asgore gently takes your chin into his hand and tilts your head up until you lock eyes with him. "You are very talented. I'm sure your knowledge can serve all of the monsterkind, I've always believed that. So, please, believe in yourself as well, alright?"

You don't have anything else to do but nod. Asgore lets go of your face and straightens up, at least as much as he can in the confined space of your shop.

"I'm glad that's settled. Can you meet up with the Royal Scientist tomorrow then, if it's not too much to ask?"

"Not at all," you say. "Give me until noon, I still have some repairs to make."

Asgore beams at you. "Thank you, truly. I'm sure you'll be a great addition to the team."

You try not to let your face sour at that. Team. Right. Because you've always been such a good team worker.

"I'll be going, then," Asgore tells you, and turns around to leave, the motion slow and careful as he tries to avoid knocking over your bookshelves. Before he opens the door, though, he looks over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing... Maybe consider giving that skeleton one more chance?"

Your face does sour at that. You grit your teeth. "He doesn't deserve it."

Asgore's smile turns sad. "Everyone deserves a second chance, my child. Even those who make terrible mistakes."

With that, he opens the door and leaves, an aroma of golden flower tea hanging in the air even after he's out of sight. You tiredly rub at your face.

The King is wrong. Not everyone deserves second chances. Not terrible people.

Not people like you.