Don't call me that, I'm your brother, I'm not your Boss! I'm so sorry, Sans, I'm so, so sorry."

Red was crying again. He couldn't seem to get himself to stop, even knowing how much worse it was making things. He heard Boss laugh cruelly. "Wow, Sans. It's almost like you want this." He stood and stretched, setting his book aside. He strolled leisurely to where Red's chain was attached to the wall.

Red stood obediently, still crying, as Boss unclipped his chain from the wall and lessened the length of the lead by three links before reattaching him. "If you can't stop showing your weaknesses in the within the next three minutes, I'm shortening it again. No one else needs to know how useless you are," he said before settling back down in his chair and picking his book back up, resuming reading as if nothing had happened.

Red sat back down at the very edge of the chain's reach. The collar was pulling at his neckbones just painfully enough that he knew it would make Boss happy. He wiped at his eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. All he'd done was think about Sans, just for a moment. He'd just hoped, for a split second, that he would see him soon. It'd only been...what? A day there? Less? He wasn't sure. Time passed differently between the universes. Red had been keeping careful track of the time, no matter how useless that might have been. Still, though. If he hadn't been doing so, the last week would have been even more unbearable.

Red wasn't sure what was holding Sans up, but he knew Sans was coming for him. Sans always came for him. He'd promised that he would never leave him alone, and Red had never had any doubts about trusting Sans.

His tears stopped, finally, and Red forced his mind onto other things. He wondered, vaguely, if the dusty gray stain on the back of his brother's knee was from a monster he knew.

X-X-X-X

Sans's elation faded as he continued looking at the skeleton in front of him. He hands, which had been raised halfway in the beginnings of wrapping not-Red up in a hug, dropped to his sides as bitterness filled his soul. He had thought, just for a moment...

The skeleton in front of him didn't have any scars, and his eyelights were two different colors. He was dressed in several layers, with a vest and blue coat tied around his waist and a long brown scarf trailing behind him. Sans could make out a few blotches of color here and there on the scarf, as well as a note that just said, "Paperjam". He had a giant paintbrush slung across his back with a sash, and a row of colored bottles decorating the front of the sash.

The stranger looked very confused for a moment, looking around. "Wait, am I not in Undertale?" he murmured to himself, glancing around. "That looks like Classic Sans, but...is this Bad Brother?"

The stranger focused on Sans for a moment, and he shuddered at the feeling of being checked. "No...no, 1HP..."

"This is Undertale," Sans said loudly, making the other jump as though he hadn't been expecting him to actually talk.

"What are you doing underground, then?" he asked, tilting his head to one side curiously.

Sans narrowed his eyes. "I dunno. Where else would I be?"

"Well, last I heard, you were on an extended Pacifist run with..." the stranger's brow crinkled in distaste before clearing so suddenly the Sans wondered if he'd actually changed expressions at all, "Underfell Sans,"

Sans just stared at him for a moment. "Okay, who the hell are you?"

The stranger's eyes widened at that, and he squeaked, "Crap! You're not supposed to see me!". And with that, he actually dived face-first behind the nearest bush.

Sans could not have been more confused. He actually might have discounted the entire exchange as a desperation-fueled hallucination if it hadn't been for the very tips of the other's boots poking out from beneath the shubbery.

"Uh...:" he started, not even sure where to begin. "I can still see your shoes."

The quickly disappeared from view, and the voice replied, "No, you can't! I'm not even here, go away!"

Sans supposed there was still a definite possibility that this was a hallucination. Or an acid trip. Honestly, who knows what was in Papyrus's spaghetti back at the beginning?

He frowned and stomped over the the bush where the other was hiding, grabbing the shorter skeleton by an ankle and dragging out into the open.

"You'd better start talking before I have to stop being nice," he growled, letting his magic flare threateningly.

The other put his hands up in surrender, sitting up slowly before pushing himself up to stand as he said, "I'm Ink, okay? I'm not a threat."

"Where the hell did you come from?"

Ink shuddered slightly. "Dusttale. Honestly, I don't know why I ever check up on him, he gives me the--"

"What the hell is Dusttale?"

Ink seemed to fumble for words for a moment. "It's an alternate universe where you...uh...you kill everyone." Ink was cringing, apparently dreading Sans's reaction to that revelation. He was caught off guard, to say the least, when Sans's entire countenance lit up and he reached out and grabbed him by the wrists. His hold was so tight it was almost painful, and Ink winced slightly. Sans didn't even notice as he blurted out, "You can travel between universes?"

Ink furrowed his brow, confused. "Yes, but...so can you. Can't you?"

Sans shook his head, still holding on tight. "My machine is gone. It disappeared with the reset and it--"

"You reset?"

Ink's mouth had dropped open and his eyes had filled with tears. Sans recoiled a bit, unsure how to deal with the emotion on the other's face. "Y-yes?"

"Oh, Sans, I'm so sorry. Constantia's creator is one of my favorites. I loved watching her grow up?" Ink was looking at him with an expression Sans had only ever seen at funerals, and he had no idea how to even begin to deal with it.

"Uh...you...watched my daughter grow up?" he asked, and as Ink nodded, he said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Well, that's kinda creepy. Even if you do look like me. What the hell is going on?" the last part was asked with a desperate air of confusion that made Ink realize that his sympathy was probably only making things worse.

"Here," he said gently, mindful of the mental state the other must be in. "Let's sit down and talk about this. I'll explain, and you tell me what you need from me, alright?"

Sans nodded softly, still looking slightly overwhelmed, and followed the other to the edge of the forest.

X-X-X-X

Red tugged on his collar, wincing slightly as it caused the spikes that lined this inside to rub against his already-raw vertebrae. He dropped his hand quickly, cursing himself yet again for messing with it. It was a habit he had picked up from his old collar, his blue one, a nervous tic he had started to remind him that...that he wasn't....

Why had he had a blue collar? Hadn't it always been red, just like this one?

It hit him again, and he had to force himself to keep a neutral expression on his face. He was forgetting again. He couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let this take Sans away from him, not even for a moment.

He couldn't do this without Sans, damn it.

Why wasn't he here?

Red rolled over, sticking both of his hands into the space between his mattress and the floor to keep him from tugging on the collar again. Sans would come. Of course he would. He had promised. Something must be holding him up, that was all. Red didn't know exactly how much the time differed. For all he knew, it changed with every reset. For all he knew, it had only been a few seconds in Sans's world. For all he knew, Sans was never coming and he would be stuck here until he dusted again.

I wouldn't have wanted to do this with anyone else by my side.

Red squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them again, he was focused on the tally marks he had been carving on the floor beside the pillow. There were twelve of them. Twelve days.

The thought depressed him more than he would like to admit, and he was disappointed in himself for a second. Seventeen years and he still couldn't stop telling himself how much everything sucked. Then he chuckled quietly.

It hadn't really been seventeen years. It had been twelve days. He could probably leave a little room for error here.

Maybe it would be best if he didn't keep track of the days anymore. Sans would come either way.

He just had to remember.

X-X-X-X

"Where is your...your...husband?"

Sans looked up at his double, frowning slightly. "Underfell," he answered, slightly more shortly than he'd meant. He was slightly overwhelmed with the information he had just been given. The mutliverse and Ink's role in it were making his brain want to short out so that he didn't have to deal with the implications of there being nearly infinite versions of himself. It wasn't so much the idea of a multiverse that was getting to him, he'd come to terms with that very quickly after meeting Red for the first time. It was the sheer number of possibilities that was astounding him. Not to mention some of the examples Ink had given him.

Damn it, Red would have loved to visit Underlust. He'd probably bring the camera, the one they never let Constantia use, and take pictures like a loser tourist while Sans alternated between laughing at him and pretending not to know him.

The thought of Red sobered him slightly, and he spoke up again. "Can you take me there? Or bring him here?"

Ink looked at him for a moment, seeming to deliberate about something for a moment.

"No."

Sans's eyeslights blew wide, and he jumped to his feet. "What?"

Ink shook his head, looking determined. "I said no. I'm never setting foot in that universe again." he looked up and saw the expression on Sans's face, and some of his stubborness seemed to fade away, only to be replaced with shame. "I...I can't. I'm sorry, Sans."

"You're sorry? " Sans growled. "You sit there and say you love the multiverse, you love every creation, you watched my daughter grow up, and you can't even--" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before continuing. "Ink, I have lost everything, and I know you're sorry for that, but Red is going through so much worse. And his universe moves faster than mine, I have no idea how long he's even been there. I need to get to him!"

Ink's face hardened. "You're not the only one who had lost a child, Sans." There was a long moment of stunned silence before he sighed and continued, also standing. "I'm sorry this is happening to you, but I can't help. I am never going to Underfell again. You're going to have to do it yourself."

Sans wanted to scream. "I can't! My machine is--"

Before he could say another word, Ink was gone.

X-X-X-X

Red sat in the corner, alone. Alone. Why did that feel so strange? He'd always been alone.

Boss adjusted, making a small noise as the couch creaked slightly under him, and Red amended his statement. Boss had always been there for him. It was a good thing Red had him, really. There was no doubt that he would be dead by now if he didn't have Boss watching out for him. His single HP made him practically useless, combined with the utter hopelessness--no, that wasn't quite right...Laziness. Combined with the utter laziness that came from every reset ending almost the same way.

He sat up on his heels, watching Boss carefully. Maybe this reset, they could make it to the end, make it to the surface...

A flash of sky, a wash of purple filling it as the sun fell below the horizon, filled his mind, and he stopped, confused. That...that felt like a memory. When had he seen the surface? Was...was there something else he was...

Red's eyes filled with tears as something prodded at the back of his mind, and he quickly changed his train of thought.

By Asgore, he was despicable. Crying over a mental image of a pretty sky. It was really no wonder Boss was always so disappointed in him.