" ☟︎☜︎ 🕈︎✌︎💧︎ ✋︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☹︎☹︎✋︎☝︎☜︎☠︎❄︎📪︎ ✡︎☜︎💧︎🖴︎ 👌︎🕆︎❄︎ ❄︎☼︎✌︎💣︎✌︎ 👎︎⚐︎☜︎💧︎☠︎🕯︎❄︎ 👍︎✌︎☼︎☜︎ ☞︎⚐︎☼︎ ✋︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☹︎☹︎✋︎☝︎☜︎☠︎👍︎☜︎. "

A snowstorm was approaching. 

It was strange to think that there would be snowstorms underground, but this was the Underground. Magic didn't care for your silly science or logic. 

So you had trudged into Grillby's through the front door, knowing that no one knew what a human actually looked like unless they were of a higher rank. Despite that you were bitter towards Sans at the moment, and everything associated with him, including the sweater you were wearing, you still hiked the furred hood of the red jacket higher onto your head. You threw the door open with freezing fingers and stumbled your way in. 

Blaze immediately looked up from his spot at the register to see your small snow covered body, his usual bright greeting falling short when saw how you were unaccompanied. Your arms wrapped tightly around your own body, he realized that something was wrong, and he walked around the front counter to usher you past the other customers. He was especially antsy when you passed a table of royal guards, and he only have them a half-hearted smile when they said hello to him. 

Entering the warm kitchen, you felt yourself thaw in both body and mind. The cold numbness you'd forced yourself into to cope with Sans's betrayal was coming undone with the warmth falling off of Blaze and Flamia. They had always been so comforting to you, but you weren't sure as to why. You heard their voices speaking to one another, but you were still barely coming out of your emotional hibernation, until you saw Grillby come into your line of sight from behind his mother. 

"(Y/N)? What happened? I thought you were going to Waterfall with Sans today?" Grillby said in his usual soft spoken, nearly shy voice. Only this time it was laced with concern, and you could see his glasses knit together to form a worried expression, despite barely able to actually see his eyes against his muted flames. 

Grillby stared at you for a long while, neither of you bothering to speak with his parents who were talking amongst themselves. Grillby knew there was something wrong, and he knew his parents wouldn't understand if he couldn't first. He was both your age and Sans's friend. If there was something wrong, he could figure it out, and he could find out why. 

The two of you stood there for a while, to the side of the adults, until you finally spoke up. "I'm leaving." Your voice was barely over a whisper, but it silenced everyone. There was nothing more than the voices outside of the kitchen that filled the tense silence, so you decided to get what you came here for. "I need my jacket." 

No one moved, so you did. 

Walking around all three of the fire elementals in slow, deliberate movements, you made your way to their supply closet. Your jacket had been long since repaired, but you weren't sure where Flamia had put it. She had said that she would send it over to you when she was done, but you insisted that she only tend to it on her free time, as you were sure you'd be spending quite some time in Snowdin. Besides, you had the red jacket you were currently wearing over your shoulders. You would be warm, with or without your old jacket. She could keep it with her until she was done, or until you needed it, should the red jacket be torn in a similar manner. 

You shrugged off the red jacket, the hood falling off your head as you put it down on the break table, your hands shaking. Was it strange that you found so much comfort in it? Was it strange that it pained you to leave it behind? Was it strange that you associated it with Sans so often? It was his first kind act towards you in all your time here in the Underground. 

Taking a deep breath, you shook those thoughts from your head and looked in the storage closet again, glancing over the items there, but not touching anything. 

"It's not in there, dear." Flamia spoke up from behind you. "It's in our house a few blocks away. I told you I'd been working on it." 

You turned around, that emotionless expression still on your face. "Can I have it back?"

Flamia drew a sharp breath and nodded. "You can, but I'd like to speak with you before you... go." She said in soft tones. She spoke as if she was letting a child go. You weren't her child though. 

"Okay." Taking a seat at the break table, you waited for her to take her own seat and begin talking. She didn't beat around the bush like everyone else. This would be quick. You hoped it would be quick. You didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. 

Taking her seat beside you, not across from you like she usually did, she looked to her son. "Grillby, could you please go back home and get (Y/N)'s jacket for them?" 

You could see Grillby's expression twist up into pain and sorrow, and almost betrayal, before he nodded slowly and ran out the back door. You could see magma tears just barely pricking the sides of his eyes. He didn't want you to leave. Not yet.

"Could you tell me what happened?" Flamia began. 

A large part of you wished to lie. Lie about what happened; about how things went down. Maybe you would twist it up to victimize yourself. Maybe you would paint yourself in the light of a villain. Maybe you would spare her by completely denying her any truth. Or you could just say no. 

But you really didn't want to. "We went to Waterfall." You started. "And... there was someone there - a kid. She wanted to fight me, but not in the same way that every other kid does - they... I... ended up fighting her, but... Sans stopped me before I could hit her." Your hands began to tremble in your lap. "He used his blue magic on me." You hissed. 

There was a pause from Blaze as he stood at the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his fiery eyebrows knitted together. Meanwhile Flamia sighed, watching your every move. "Has he used it on you before?"

"Yes."

"Then what makes this time hurt so bad?" She wasn't trying to be insensitive. She just knew that you and Sans had always been at each other's throats. She knew that he'd used his magic before, and she knew what his blue magic entitled. After all, she knew his father better than anyone, and knew just how well skeletons used their blue magic. 

Another silence. Your lips trembled as you could feel the same emotionless from before melt away with every question. "Because Gaster used it on me too."

Before you knew it, and before you could struggle out of her grip, Flamia enveloped you in a warm hug, pulling your head to her chest. "I'm so sorry." She whispered to you. 

You hadn't even realized that you were near crying until you felt your tears evaporate before they could fall. There were no more than three or four that resided in your eyes. 

Blaze watched from his spot at the wall. Even though you couldn't see the look on his face, as you were a little busy being comforted by his wife, if you did look up, you would see the most serious, dangerous expression he'd likely ever wore for several years. His implied hostility though, was most definitely not directed towards you. 

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Flamia spoke softly, gently stroking your head.

Taking a shaky breath as you collected yourself, you said; "He... took down my HP by one." Your eyebrows knitted together. "But I... I... Did I overreact?" You were barely speaking audibly now. "But he told me that your HP was the thing keeping you alive!" Your eyebrows knitted together in anger. "He told me that if it dropped to zero, then I'd die... So why?" 

You pulled away from Flamia, but she didn't let you get too far. She was still holding your hands in hers, and she could clearly see the anger, frustration, and confusion flickering back and forth, fighting each other in your mind. "Tell me, do you think he'd hurt you like that unprompted?" She asked.

"Yes." You replied without a moment to spare. Then you stopped, pressed your lips into a thin line, and fixed your answer. "Maybe..?" Another pause and an awkward expression. "No?" 

Alright, Flamia realized you were much more confused than she thought you were. 

"Is there a reason why he hates me so much though?" You finally asked, your sad expression returning with a glance to the side. "He apparently hates me enough to attack me, but not his own bullies. I haven't laid a hand on him or Papyrus at all since arriving!" You snapped with a trembling frown. 

"Then would you like to know why he's so weary of humans?" 

"Yes!" You shouted immediately, taking your sweating hands away from Flamia at last to cross them over your chest. 

She didn't like that tone of yours, but understood that your emotions were likely to be a whirlwind in your mind. So, she stayed silent until your reigned in your frustration. Realizing she was waiting for you to calm down, you uncrossed your arms and felt yourself deflate a little. Guilt built in your chest and showed itself on your face. 

"Yeah... I'd like to know why he hates me so much." You whispered under your breath. 

Flamia sighed. "Well, first of all, Sans does not hate you." She explained. "He is simply very afraid of humans."

"I've noticed that." You whispered under your breath. 

"That's because of something that happened a few years ago." She paused, her glasses crunching together as if she was knitting her eyebrows. "A human, maybe a few years older than yourself, had fallen into the Underground.

"He was very violent. He hurt anyone he came across without ever hesitating. No one even got to ask why he'd done such a thing. It was quite tragic, and most of the Underground wishes to forget such a thing happening. The human managed to get past most of the Underground undetected, but the few who weren't so lucky as to avoid contact...

"It wasn't until he came across Hotland's lab that he was caught. Not very many monsters in the Underground knew how a human looked like, but when one of the guards from the lab saw him, they'd fought valiantly, but in the end, the guard died. The human rushed into the building, seeing as Hotland's lab takes quite a bit of space, and apparently humans cannot swim in magma. 

"There, he lashed out violently at anyone who came too close. Some battles resulting in monster dust coating his clothes. He hadn't known where he was going, and in the end, he had dove further into the lab, instead of getting out. 

"Near the bottom floors, Doctor Gaster... He encountered the human. Still reacting violently, he attacked Doctor, and their fight resulted in the scars that line Gaster's face today. But it was because Sans had been there during that final battle, with Papyrus who was only an infant at the time, that Sans is so afraid.

"I assure you, (Y/N)... He does not hate you."

When Flamia finished, she wore a sorrowful expression on her face, and somehow your hands had found themselves back in her warm palms. She watched your expression twist conflicted sadness. 

Your thoughts were running miles a minute. 

Yes, Sans was justified in being afraid of humans. Yes, he had every right to be afraid of you. Yes, he had every right to hate humans. But was Flamia right? Did he really not hate you? 

"He died." You finally realized. "And Gaster... Sans." 

Not only had Gaster been the one to end the teenage boy's life, but Sans had been right there throughout the entire battle, no doubt protecting Papyrus with his life. 

Flamia simply sat there watching as you processed everything. One by one, she could see the puzzle pieces click in your mind. You knew now, that Sans had not hated you without reason that first week. Although you had your suspicions that he simply was afraid, you never knew why. You never knew how deeply rooted that fear was. 

And now that you did, what were you going to do? 

"(Y/N)!" 

You snapped your hands out of Flamia's, pulling them close to your chest as you jumped out of your seat at the loud voice. The back door slammed open, snow sweeping into the warm kitchen and melting as soon as it got too close. The wind howled outside, but the pulsing blood in your ears were much louder as you stared at Sans's panting figure in the doorway. 

He still had streaks of blue tears down his white bone face, snow covering his clothes as Grillby's bright orange flames stood behind him, slowly melting it. Realizing as you continued to stare at each other with wide eyes, that he was not panting, but hiccupping, you could only watch as he took slow steps into the kitchen. As soon as he got three steps in though, you turned around and scrambled past Flamia, trying desperately to get away from him. 

It wasn't that you were afraid of him, or that you hated him, or that you didn't want to see him. It was just that you couldn't bare to scare him any more than you had already, simply by being here. The part of you that considered him a friend. 

Despite everything, his companionship filled you with determination and hope.