Chapter Text

“(Grillby...are you lonely?)”



The question took the fire elemental by surprise. One minute the Dogi were talking Royal Guard business, the next, his personal life. He looked up from the keg he was wiping clean and slowly peered over at the rest of his bar, which was packed to the brim with the usuals, then back at the two dogs. If he had eyebrows - or even eyes for that matter - one of them would have been raised, challenging the couple to refute his unspoken answer.

“...that isn’t what she meant,” Dogamy clarified.

Grillby shrugged and went back to cleaning the glass. “Fuku calls once a week.”

“(But you are all by yourself in that big house, and even then you spend all day here at the bar!)” Dogaressa pressed, “(It’s only been a few months since-)”

The conversation was mercifully interrupted by hysteric screaming from the other side of the room. Perfect timing.

Grillby set the glass on the counter and walked toward the commotion, eager to perform whatever bartenderly duties were required of him. Breaking up a fight. Lending a friendly ear to someone’s secret drunken woes. Helping a patron to the bathroom who had downed one too many and cleaning up their mess when they missed their target. Anything, really, was better than the conversation trail Dogaressa wanted to travel down.

He passed by the other bargoers, narrowly squeezing past the two heavily armored dogs seated nearest to the counter, and made his way to the ever-growing sounds of distress. It didn’t take long to find their source. Bunnette was splayed on the floor next to her usual booth, eyes looking a tad dizzier than normal. Grillby knew she couldn’t be too drunk - he tended to water down her orders once she started to hit her limit - but the way she flailed her arms and legs around worried him slightly.

“Not again! N-noooot a-a-agaaain-n-n!!” She cried, flopping around more as her volume increased. “E-Earthquaaake!!”

Oh. That explained it. Yesterday morning a sudden and unexplained earthquake rocked the Underground. No monster had been seriously hurt and there was only minor structural damage near the epicenter in Hotland, but the seismic activity had everyone a little on edge as of late. Every monster was talking about the event, the bar abuzz with theories about its cause and the likelihood of an aftershock, if it would bring the very ceiling down on top of them, etc. It wasn’t enough that they were trapped down here, now they were in danger of the very earth itself turning against them. That anxiety plus the effects of alcohol was not a good combination.

Grillby knelt down beside her and took one of her hands in his, rubbing it softly. She stopped yelling at the touch and blinked, looking up at him with a confused expression. Little by little the tremors in her body calmed until she was left there lying still on the bar floor.

“It's over,” he reassured softly. “You’re safe.”

Once she seemed subdued enough, Grillby helped her to her feet. Almost immediately she wobbled. He kept his grip on her hand, trying to assist her in regaining her bearings. Unfortunately it seemed like a larger problem than simple momentary disorientation. No wonder she had convinced herself that there was another earthquake happening right now. Bunnette hiccupped loudly, mumbling some drunken attempt at a seduction about Grillby being so strong and reliable. He winced at the unwanted attention. It might be a bit early to call it, but the bartender figured it was about time for her to go home and sleep this off.

“I can take it from here.”

Grillby turned to see Audrey beside him. The mouth monster had shuffled his way over, looking down at Bunnette with pursed lips. They were neighbors and occasional drinking buddies. As such, this was far from the first time that he had had to escort his inebriated friend home.

The elemental was about to hand her over to Audrey when movement from the front windows caught his attention. The wind had picked up steadily, making it look like start of a wintry hurricane outside. He stared at it hesitantly, wondering if it was best to let them leave in this condition.

Audrey seemed to sense the internal deliberation. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her back safe.” As if to prove his point he unhinged his jaw and skillfully used his tongue to grab Bunnette and secure her inside of his cheek. It was a bizarre sight to be sure but one that Grillby was oddly accustomed to, having seen this method of carrying on a regular basis.

After another moment of thought Grillby relented. He led the two of them over to the door and held it open. Audrey hobbled out, nodding in farewell. He separated his lips enough apart for a furry arm to peek out between the teeth and wave. The gesture was quickly followed by a muffled hiccup. Grillby watched them leave, keeping the door ajar to indicate that maybe it was time for everyone else to be on their way as well.

The other monsters picked up on the hint. Slowly and somewhat begrudgingly they all gathered their belongings and made their way out to brave the walk home. The Dogi were the last to leave, trailing behind the rest of the canine patrol.

“(Good night, Grillby.)” Dogaressa smiled, pulling up her hood.

“Hopefully all that earthquake business is taken care of. If you feel any tremors, however, feel free to hide under a desk. Or a dog house,” Dogamy added.

“(I think the bar counter would work well enough.)” Dogaressa paused. “(I assume you are going to spend the night here?)”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon knowledge that Grillby had been sleeping over at the bar lately. The spare room in the back was comfortable enough, and he would rather stay put than risk his core temperature reaching dangerous levels. Grillby had multiple layers of clothes for outdoor use and magical defense if he had to go out in these circumstances, but he preferred waiting it out. It wasn’t like he had anything to go home to anyways.

Grillby nodded.

“(Well, if you need something - if you ever need anything - feel free to call us.)” Dogaressa asked. “(We’re only a bark away if you want some company!)”

Grillby didn’t understand where all this sudden concern came from, but he would be lying if he said their friendship wasn’t deeply appreciated. She worried because she cared, even if there was nothing to worry about in the first place. In many ways it was endearing. Yet, somehow, it made him a bit uncomfortable. He tried to ignore the feeling.

Once the bar was clear of patrons, Grillby got to work on his closing duties. He turned the lights off to save electricity; his own glow was enough for him to see. Tables and booths were disinfected and wiped down thoroughly, and money left behind was collected. He had a strict payment policy: you had two weeks to pay your dues or you were banned from his establishment. Considering he was the only real restaurant in Snowdin no one dared incur his financial wrath. Alcohol was hard to find and even harder to brew, and the utilities for the bar plus his house wasn’t exactly cheap either. At least heating never was an issue, what with the unlimited source of fire and all, but that only got rid of some of the bills. There wouldn’t be any longstanding tabs in his bar as long as he could help it.

A distinct odor near the dogs’ regular table made Grillby stop in his tracks. He recognized that smell. Recognized it all too well. Doggo knew better than to smoke treats in the bar. The stench hung in the air for hours and, if not treated properly and quickly, could seep into the woodwork. The last thing Grillby wanted was his restaurant to smell like a dog treat den. Families often came for lunch or early dinner, and they would not be too happy about that tell-tale flavor in the air.

He let out a crackling sigh and marched back through the fire exit. Passing the kitchen, which needed to be cleaned as well, Grillby slipped into the small closet next to the entrance of the spare room. The rest of his cleaning supplies were kept there, and he was going to need quite a bit of odor eliminator to get rid of that smell. It took him a moment to locate what he needed. The earthquake had made a mess of his organized supplies, and with all of the prep work to open today he hadn’t had the time to tidy it back up. Something else to get to tonight, he supposed.

He finally found the de-odorizer and was about to grab it when he heard the creak of the bar door opening, followed by it slamming suddenly and hushed whispers. Grillby froze. Snowdin was such a quiet place, he had never bothered much with locking the place up after hours. Everyone here knew each other, almost to the point of basically being a large extended family. That didn’t rule out the occasional rebellious teenager trying to make trouble, though, or worse; another human had fallen.

Instead of taking the cleaning product, Grillby’s fingers curled around the bat hanging on the wall. He rolled up his sleeves and took in a breath. After a moment of composing himself he turned, heading out the way he came. His grip tightened on the weapon, prepared for whatever he would find in his bar.

Or so he thought.

Standing in the middle of the bar were two young skeleton monsters, dressed more appropriately for a day in the sun than the current snowstorm raging outside. They started upon seeing Grillby, the taller one pushing the shorter one behind him. That didn’t stop the shorter one from peeking out his head, a ratty red blanket held close to his chest in glove-covered hands. At least that was weather appropriate, but it didn’t seem to count for much. Their clothes were soaked through, and even from this distance Grillby could see the two of them shaking uncontrollably. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he wasn’t sure. He hoped it was the latter.

“...uh...sorry, we, um...we saw the lights were out so we thought this place was empty,” the taller one explained. His mouth seemed frozen in a permanent grin as he spoke, broad and a hint unnerving, especially in the low light. On the other hand, his eyes were the definition of expressive, flitting around nervously while the tops of his sockets creased down, giving off the impression of a furrowed brow. “we’ll just be going now."

“B-BUT...BUT, SANS!”

Grillby flinched at the unwarranted volume. It was as if the shorter one was projecting his voice to someone standing on the other side of the room instead of right next to him, but the taller one - Sans - didn’t seem bothered by the loudness at all, as if he was used to it.

“told you already, bro - we don’t have any butts. y’know? we’re skeletons.” He rattled off the joke with ease, but there was an underlying tenseness in his tone.

“UGH, SANS!! DON’T DO-” Any further objections were cut off by a wet coughing fit that lasted too long for Grillby’s comfort. Sans watched with wide eyes, looking more and more concerned as it went on, but obviously at a loss as to what to do. And then, with a loud sniff, it was done. The shorter skeleton regained his composure, cocking his head and pointing at Grillby. “ARE YOU PLAYING BASEBALL?”

Grillby was confused at first, but then he looked down. Right. The bat. He had forgotten he still had it in his grasp. Sans was eyeing it with particularly strong intent, and no doubt it was the cause for most of the tension in the room. Grillby shook his head and slowly placed the bat under the counter of the bar. He had hoped this would be a sign of goodwill, but Sans still stared at him with an air of distrust.

“...aaaanyways, we really need to get going...c’mon, papyrus.” Sans tugged on his brother’s hand.

“Wait!” Grillby reached out. He had no idea who these kids are, what they were doing, why there were here alone, but he did know that they looked like they needed help. Not only that, but if they were as sick as they appeared, going back out into that storm could dust them. He couldn’t let them leave.

“sorry, but, uh, we really aren’t supposed to talk to strangers,” Sans shrugged. And Grillby supposed, in most situations, the kid had a point.

He paused, then pointed to the boys. “Sans. Papyrus.” Then he turned his finger toward himself. “And I’m Grillby. So we aren’t strangers.”

Papyrus’ sockets widened. “WOWIE, SANS...HE KNOWS US!”

Sans looked like he wanted to argue that point but he kept quiet, seemingly admitting defeat, too tired and honestly too desperate at this point to refuse free help. Grillby, on the other hand, did everything in his power not to cringe at how easy it was to convince the younger child to trust him. If it had been anyone with malicious intent, who knows what could have happened. It made him all the more curious about why these boys were alone at night in a community where everyone knows everything that’s happening. And skeletons visiting would have been quite the talk of the town. In fact, last Grillby had heard, it was rumored that skeleton monsters were all but extinct.

He gestured to the seats at the counter. “Hungry?”

Papyrus gasped and wriggled out of Sans’ hold, clambering up onto the stool, setting the blanket on his lap. He turned when he noticed his brother wasn’t following after him. “C’MON SANS! AREN’T YOU HUNGRY TOO?”

Grillby could practically see the cogs running in Sans’ head as he deliberated on what to do. Finally the boy shrugged and made his way over to the seat next to his sibling. “depends on the food. can’t handle anything spicy. i don’t have the stomach for it.”

“NYEH! SANS, I ALREADY TOLD YOU! STOP!” Papyrus huffed indignantly, shoving his gloved hands onto his hips. “THIS IS NO TIME FOR PUNS.”

“guess i’ll have to wait for pun o’clock then…”

“SANS!!”

They kept at it while Grillby walked into the kitchen. Since they were sick he figured some canned chicken noodle soup would be best. It was hard to gauge how ill they were but as they still had the energy to argue over puns, swallowing some soup shouldn’t be that much harder. He found a can on the top shelf and started boiling the water, setting aside two bowls and spoons in preparation. Considering he had the time, and a watched pot never boils, he contemplated how to handle the situation. Getting some food and warmth in them seemed to be most important, and hopefully he would be able to ask some questions about how they got here. They could sleep in the spare room while he took the couch, and he would call Dogaressa first thing in the morning to help get them back where they belonged. Ideally he would have called tonight but it was late and the storm was getting worse every second.

It didn’t take long for the soup to finish. Grillby pulled on his oversized rubber gloves and poured out a small portion for each, not wanting them to eat too much too quickly. Monster food might not digest like human food, but a monster stomach could still reject the magic when sick. He would like to avoid that if possible. After making sure his arms were properly covered by the gloves he carefully returned to the bar with both bowls in tow.

The boys’ eyes lit up immediately upon seeing the food, Papyrus slurping down a spoonful as soon as his bowl hit the counter. They ate like they hadn’t touched a morsel in days, but held the utensils deftly enough to be familiar with their use. If it wasn’t for that, Grillby would have pegged them for homeless kids trying to live off the streets. Sans surely had the potential streetwise nature, what with his attempts at distancing himself from Grillby, but Papyrus was far too innocent. Too trusting. No, there had to be more to their story than that.

“You aren’t from Snowdin?” Grillby asked, figuring it was as good a time as any to start getting some answers. They seemed to be reacting to the food well, their demeanor lightening and their shaking diminishing greatly - though Sans was faring better in that regard.

“WE LIVE IN THE UNDERGROUND!” Papyrus announced proudly.

Sans snickered. “hotland, to be more specific. a little different from here, if you catch my snow-drift.” He gestured toward the window, where the snow was piling up considerably.

“YEAH! THERE ISN’T SO MUCH ICE CREAM LYING AROUND AT HOME!”

Grillby wasn’t really sure what that last bit meant, and Sans didn’t offer an explanation right away. Instead he picked up his bowl and downed the rest of its contents in a single gulp. After letting out a content sigh he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, which made Papyrus cringe in disgust.

“dad’s busy a lot, with his important job ‘n all, so we have to stay near his work. pap hadn’t even left hotland before till now,” Sans explained. “but we got lost. there was an accident back home and somehow we got here.”

“Lost?” Grillby repeated.

“yeah. we’ve been trying to find our way back for uh...two days now, maybe? we’re not worried or anything, though. dad’ll come get us!”

Grillby turned to Papyrus to see if he had anything to add, only to find that the skeleton had grown oddly still. He held his spoon frozen in mid bite, looking away from Sans uncomfortably. His free hand was clenching and unclenching the blanket in his lap. Grillby was about to ask if anything was wrong when the spoon clattered noisily to the counter. Papyrus was having a coughing attack again, far worse than last time. His brother held out a hand to keep him steady, looking up at Grillby with pleading eyes. The sight broke the fire elemental’s heart.

He didn’t waste any time, scooping up Papyrus over the counter and into his arms, blanket and all. Stars, the child felt so cold. Grillby rubbed Papyrus’s back, hoping his magical heat could put some warmth back into his bones where the soup didn’t. With the boy in tow he made his way to the kitchen, Sans following right behind. There was a cabinet above the sink that held some various kitchen supplies, but most importantly, medicine. Usually he only needed a mild painkiller for a patron’s headache, or some antibiotic cream in case of a cut or scrape. Near the top, though, he knew there was some cough medicine.

Too near the top, actually. The cabinet, along with most everything else in the room, was designed for someone much taller than Grillby. He could see the medicine in question but his fingers just barely scraped the edge of the shelf. An easy solution would be setting Papyrus down and climbing onto the counter, since Sans would be too short even with the counter below him. Just as the thought crossed his mind, though, the younger skeleton leaned further into Grillby’s chest, coughs momentarily abated as he struggled to regulate his raspy breathing. Nope. Letting Papyrus out of his grasp was out of the question.

He knew there was a step-stool somewhere, rarely used. Turning, he scanned the area, hoping to find it quickly.

“got it!”

Grillby looked back, expecting to see Sans with the step-stool or some other means of reaching the cabinet. Instead he was greeted by the sight of the boy with the cough medicine in his hand, holding it out urgently. Grillby stared. How...how had Sans done that? He hadn't heard any noise to indicate that he had climbed the cabinet. In fact there was nothing to indicate that the child had even left where he was standing at all. The only thing that seemed different about him was a sudden shortness of breath and some sweat beading at his skull.

“Good job,” Grillby affirmed, not in the mood to question the turn of events. All that mattered was they had the medicine, and Papyrus could get it in his system quicker.

He lead Sans into the spare room where they all sat down on the bed, Papyrus curled atop Grillby’s lap. Sans poured out the medicine per Grillby’s instruction. The syrupy substance filled the small cap, an artificial sweetness emanating from it. Grillby could not guarantee it would taste good, but it should alleviate the cough until he could get a doctor to come in the morning - if the storm had finished by then that is. Papyrus made a face at the smell, but otherwise had no qualms as he drank it down. Grillby considered giving some to Sans too, but he hadn’t coughed once so far and seemed to be doing better. Although, upon closer inspection, Grillby could see the telltale signs of lack of sleep under the boy’s eye sockets. He looked like he could drop at any minute.

“Stay here tonight,” Grillby urged. “I’ll call the Guard tomorrow. They can help you.”

“BUT YOU’RE HELPING US NOW!” Papyrus insisted, his voice sounding raw from the coughing.

“...I’ll keep helping,” Grillby ensured. “We’ll find your dad.”

It was quiet for a moment. “...thanks, mr. grillby.” Sans looked up at him with misty eyes. Once again a pang of sympathy arced through the elemental. Two days. These kids had been lost for two days in Snowdin. How long had they been without food? Warmth? Someone to help them?

Grillby pulled back the sheets on the bed, placing Papyrus under the covers. Sans slid in beside his brother, sockets closing as his skull hit the pillow. Already asleep, no doubt. How much longer could he have gone if he hadn’t come into the bar? Grillby didn’t even want to think about the two falling asleep in the blizzard raging outside.

After watching them for a moment, Grillby headed back into the kitchen. He needed to take care of a few things before turning in himself for the night. If he was able to sleep at all, that was. Already he could feel his mind filling with endless thoughts. Questions. Lists. He had a feeling the bar would not be open tomorrow, not with everything that needed to be done. Still, completing all the normal closing tasks would keep him busy and not worrying about the situation. He could start with removing that dog treat stench at the Royal Guard’s table.

He turned and nearly jumped. “Papyrus!” He hissed, trying his best to keep the volume down for Sans’ sake. The younger skeleton stood in the doorway, blanket dragging behind him. “...are you okay?”

“I’M FINE.” He shuffled his weight from one foot to the next, as if he couldn’t quite keep still.

“Is Sans okay?”

“OH, HE’S SLEEPING. AS USUAL.” Papyrus looked a bit annoyed at that, but his furrowed brow quickly changed to something more concerned. “I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.”

Grillby tilted his head.

“...MY BROTHER...HAS BEEN TELLING YOU SOME UNTRUTHS…” he said slowly, refusing to look at Grillby. “GOOD KIDS DON’T LIE, BUT HE’S NOT TRYING TO BE BAD. PLEASE DON’T BE MAD AT HIM.”

“I’m not mad,” Grillby replied, the now-too familiar feeling of confusion rising up in him. He couldn’t think of anything that the boy had said that was a blatant lie, but Papyrus was obviously convinced and it was weighing on him. “What did he lie about?”

The child froze, the blanket coming up to his mouth. His fingers picked at the frayed edges of the cloth. They stood there for a minute, the answer unwilling to come forward. Eventually, Papyrus gave in. He took a sharp breath, eyes dashing about until finally coming to a stop at Grillby.

“WE DON’T HAVE A DAD.”