No Bones About It, Chapter One

Realizing that she was falling for one of her oldest friends was an extremely strange feeling. When exactly had it started? She hadn't felt the beginnings of it, she didn't think. It was just...there. Waiting for her to finally notice.

She had known him since she had first fallen. Since Frisk was only ten years old, too terrified to speak, hunched in on herself and forced to march alone through the mysterious Underground. The rest of the Underground was not like the Ruins. It was dead silent, cold, and dark. Immediately, Frisk wanted to turn back. She wanted the warmth of Toriel's home, she wanted the small cozy bed and the room that would be hers. Frisk had a terrible, unshakable feeling that she wouldn't survive here. Just like Toriel had said.

Upon leaving the Ruins, upon leaving Toriel, Frisk had been more scared and heartbroken than ever. She should have stayed with the kind goat woman. She should have let Toriel be her mother. Yet something was tugging her forward-she needed to get home.

Little did she know that the Underground would become her home.

After several infinite minutes of walking through the new, scary place, she met him. He turned out to actually be the second friendly face she had met upon her fall, though she was sure he wished her harm at first. When she had heard his voice, sending Arctic waves of terror down her skin, Frisk thought for sure that she was going to die. She began to tremble without a sound.

When she had somehow managed to turn around and stick out her hand as he had demanded, eyes scrunched tight against a violent end, an unexpected noise assaulted her. Was that...a whoopie cushion? Frisk's eyes flew open and fixed on the rubbery object she had made contact with. It was noisily letting out air as it was squeezed between her hand and the hand of the stranger, making a very rude and exaggerated sound indeed.

The stranger began to laugh-probably the goofiest laugh Frisk had ever heard in her short decade of living. It was a short series of snorts and chuckles that somehow made her fear dissipate; in fact, the laughter was so ridiculous that immediately she wanted to laugh too.

"Ah, the old whoopie-cushion-in-the-hand trick," the stranger managed to say through his laughter. Frisk slowly retracted her hand from his, and jumped a little-his fingers were bone. Letting her eyes travel upward, taking in slipper-bound feet, basketball shorts, and a blue hoodie that was fuzzy on the inside, she eventually found his face. Frisk barely restrained a gasp. He was a skeleton! Her first instinct was to again be frightened, but he grinned widely at her.

And that was how she met Sans.

From that moment in the dark forest outside of Snowdin, they started to form a great bond. Frisk and Sans became fast friends. Soon after, she met Sans' younger brother, Papyrus-who she had a series of odd and often embarrassing misunderstandings with, including a very peculiar date-who she grew to love as well. Together with her friends the Skeleton Brothers and a few others she had bonded with along the way, Frisk became the Underground's hero, breaking the seal that had kept all the monsters hidden away for so long.

King Asgore and Toriel adopted her and loved her like she was their own flesh and blood, and Frisk lived happily with her friends in the Underground while monsters were slowly making their way to the surface to walk amongst humankind once more. It was a good life. Frisk loved it here. She was nineteen now, and had traveled to almost every corner of the Underground, making friends and spreading her own kind of infectious optimism wherever she went.

Of course, the Underground was emptying. More and more monsters were making their way to the surface now that peace with the humans had been made, and Frisk knew that eventually she would have to go Up. The thought scared her. She had spent half of her life here, how could she go back to something she barely remembered? But she knew her friends would be with her and a home was ready for her when she got Up There. That was a comfort, at least. Still, the realization that she would never see this place again lingered in her mind, sometimes keeping her awake at night.

On nights like that, she went to Sans. Frisk would call him on the phone or travel to his house in the middle of the night, Sans reminding her to keep quiet so as not to wake Papyrus at the very late hour. For some reason, Sans was always up in the middle of the night. She wondered if he even needed sleep, or just chose to sleep during the day to avoid responsibility and Papyrus's occasional pouting.

She and Sans would hang out in the living room, watching whatever odd shows that happened to be on at three in the morning, or playing video games they'd picked out together. When she talked to him-for she had gained the courage to speak after the Seal had broken-it was so easy. She could speak without thinking and know that he wouldn't judge her for whatever was on her mind. In fact, his train of thought often followed hers nearly exactly. He, too, both feared and loved the idea of Aboveground. They shared a lot of the same ideas about what life would be like once they got there.

Frisk guessed that she loved to talk to Sans because he was the first person she'd ever let hear her voice down here.

It was a few months after she had been dubbed Heroine of the Underground, and she'd been invited over to the Skeleton Brothers' home for dinner. Papyrus was, of course, making spaghetti. Undyne was exposing him to new and exciting ways to make it, and he was beyond thrilled for Frisk to try the newest kind of pasta he'd found.

"ELBOW MACARONI, HUMAN! THE NOODLES ARE SHAPED LIKE TINY ELBOWS!" Papyrus had delightedly waggled his own elbow at her to demonstrate how cool that was. Frisk had smiled and given her silly friend a double thumbs-up to let him know that she thought it was cool, too. Papyrus was so goofy. Though he was much taller than Sans, it wasn't hard to tell that he was the younger brother.

While Papyrus busied himself by diligently watching his noodles boil, Frisk had curled herself up on the squashy couch in the living room. At that point, she had only been over a handful of times, so she quietly stayed to one spot. Sans had been standing to the side, silently watching his brother's antics, hands in his pockets. When Frisk got settled, though, he wandered over and took a seat next to her on the couch. "How ya doing with all of this, kid? Anybody giving you a hard time or anything bad like that?" Frisk shook her head, then traced the words I have been fine onto the coffee table with her finger.

Sans's eye sparked blue, and the words she had traced on the table came to life in a burst of magical light and danced around her head. Frisk giggled; she loved it when he used magic for silly little things like this. Sans nodded, smiling a little at her laughter. "Good, good. Can't imagine why anyone would, but I promised I would keep an eyesocket out for ya, and so I am."

They fell silent for a while after that, sneaking glances at Papyrus in the kitchen. He was quietly muttering a monologue about how his skills in pasta preparation would someday make him the world's most famous culinary skeleton. The silence was comfortable, like a hot bath. Frisk basked in it, eyes in a half-squint. Some of her friends playfully teased her for the weird expression, but it was how she showed she was truly at ease.

After a few minutes of observing, Sans spoke up again. "Hey kid, I was just wondering...can you talk? I mean, I hear you laugh. But does your voice work?" Frisk blinked, hesitant. Sans quickly backtracked, hands up in a gesture of peace. "I mean, if you can and you don't want to, no pressure. But I'm curious, is all." Frisk took a deep breath, stalling.

Her voice had closed up when the terror of falling into this strange place had overcome her. It had simply refused to come out again. Through all of the scary situations, never once had she spoken a word in the Underground, even when alone. Now, however, she could confidently say that she wasn't afraid anymore. She was having dinner with two great friends. She had a great adoptive mom and dad that loved her so much. Frisk was...safe. She was adored. She was so happy.

Frisk decided to let her voice free at last.

"U-um, yes. I can talk." She said in a small voice, the sound of it surprising her. Whoa. After silently expressing herself for a little over a year, initiating verbal communication was a little startling.

Sans' eyes widened, then he grinned hugely at her. This smile wasn't like his hell-raising prankster smirk. It was surprised and genuinely, astonishingly happy. He gave her little encouraging smiles when she did something right, but this was the first time she'd seen him smile so wide. It made her full to the brim with joy.

"That's so great, Frisk! I knew you could. So nice to hear your voice, finally." He patted her on the head with one bony hand, giving her hair a messy ruffle.

Frisk felt thrilled at his praise. In her time in the Underground, Sans had really taken her under his wing. She looked to him when she had trouble communicating something, or was just struggling in general. He took care of any problem she was having. He was like an older brother to her, back then.

Then, of course, she had to go and fall in love with him seven years later. Maybe it was just inevitable. After all, Frisk had been glued to him since they had first met. She loved his silly puns, actively participated in any pranks he asked her to be a part of, and just felt safe in his company. He was a great friend.

As she grew older, she began to view him less as an older brother and more as a partner in crime, as her best friend. He was, after all, ageless. Though Frisk got older and aged, Sans had no such limits. He was a monster, composed of magic, and had no age. She had been informed that many monsters didn't. He thought that humans measuring their lives by years was odd. Sans had always acted like he was the same age as she was now, while Papyrus had the heart of a child and the courage of a wizened warrior.

Maybe that was why Frisk began to be painfully conscious of how she moved when she was around him, of how her body language spoke. Frisk was at the age where she could consider him as more than a friend. She wondered if he noticed she was acting differently. It was so new and embarrassing to her, to have a crush. And on her best friend, no less. She had seen the way people acted when they had crushes (Alphys and Undyne) and she thought it was beyond weird.

And aside from that, Frisk was noticing things that Sans did, as if she was looking at him for the first time. In reality, she had been looking at him for nearly a decade, but this newfound attraction had given her fresh perspective. Frisk observed how he looked when he was about to drop a devastatingly bad pun. She took in the way his eyes danced with magic when he was entertaining her with it. She absorbed his ever-silly laughter and heard it playing in the back of her mind when she saw something funny and was alone.

When he was gone, she missed him. Sorely. Deeply. Achingly. When she was alone, she was thinking about what he would think of whatever she was doing. She wanted to text or call him 24/7. She was over at Sans' and Papyrus' house more than she was at her own home. Toriel was pretty easygoing about that; "You are all grown up, my child. Go where you please, just let me know that you are safe."

Sans never minded. In fact, he always seemed happy to see her, and she adored that. Frisk was one lovesick girl, but just like she had been selectively mute as a child, now she had no idea where to start to express to her best friend that she wanted to be romantically involved. Would he laugh at the notion? Would he pat her on the head like he would when she was a child and tell her that it was impossible? God help him if he told her she was better off with another human. She didn't want one of those. She didn't even know how to interact with her own kind, let alone date her own kind.

Frisk wanted to date Sans. Not the way she had "dated" Papyrus-she wanted the real thing. Frisk wanted kisses and snuggling and all the silly things she daydreamed about doing with him. Sometimes, when he was right next to her, she thought hard at him- What would you say if I told you? What would you do if I said it out loud right now? Of course, Sans couldn't read her mind, as powerful as his magic was. Frisk wanted him to be able to. Maybe it would be easier than forcing the words out.

Then again, maybe it was better that he couldn't. Her thoughts could get...er, well...Frisk sometimes found herself having dreams about Sans that made her blush deeply when she managed to recall them later in the day. Her crush on Sans was the first true crush she'd ever had, so she wasn't sure if these dreams were normal or if she was just...a pervert. Obviously she hadn't told him about them, but they were still embarrassingly clear in her mind. And even more shamefully, she enjoyed remembering them.

Keeping these things to herself was so difficult. She told Sans everything, but...there was no way she could tell him this. Could she? Frisk feared rejection strongly. What if he didn't want her like that? What if he began to ignore her? What if their friendship faded away into nothing? Frisk wouldn't be able to withstand that.

But she couldn't take this not-knowing, either. Even though the thought of posing a question that could lead to difficult answers scared her, Frisk didn't want to keep anything from him anymore-as awkward as it might become.

Her longing to know the truth filled her with determination. She set out for the Skeleton Brothers' home.