Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8561062.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Undertale_(Video_Game), Underfell_-_Fandom
  Character:
      Sans_(Underfell), Papyrus_(Underfell), Undyne_(Underfell), Dogamy_
      (Underfell), Lesser_Dog_(Underfell), Greater_Dog_(Underfell)
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_-_Freeform, Knotting, child_rape, Death, Vomit, a_lot_of
      vomit, Alcohol, Drugs, Weed, Panic_Attacks, Anxiety_Disorder
  Series:
      Part 3 of There's_no_Path
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-15 Words: 2657
****** one times to many ******
by gaylie
Summary
     He’s celebrated one or two birthdays when he was younger, but parties
     didn’t end well when you’re a young teenager living in the fucking
     apocalypse.
     “HAVE YOU EVER CELEBRATED IT BEFORE?” Blue asked eventually, his
     voice loud over the soft humming of the Riverperson. They didn’t seem
     to mind at all.
     “hm?”
     “YOUR BIRTHDAY I MEAN.”
     “o-oh… uh, yea? when i was younger. ’t’was a fucking mess, though.
     people drank like it was the end of the world.”
     “GEE, HOW OLD WERE YOU?”
     “like, fourteen?”
     Blue’s eyes widened. “THAT’S NO AGE TO DRINK!!!”
     “it wasn’t like we had anyone to tell us not to. honestly, everyone
     either drank or drugged their brains out if they had the chance to.
     it was for… survival, man. shit’s tough there. anythin’ to stay above
     water.”
     In which Sans decides he doesn't want to throw any more parties.
Notes
     I swear to god, read the tags before reading this fic
     then read them again
     then ask yourself if you really want to read this
     you have been warned
He was turning sixteen today.
By monster standards, that age meant absolutely nothing special at all. It
meant he had survived sixteen entire years and also still managed to stay sane
enough to keep track of dates, let alone his birthday. It also meant he had a
reason to celebrate.
It wasn't his first party, so he knew how it went. He knew who to talk to for
the word to get spread. He knew who to talk to to get on his alcohol. He knew
in what a mess it would end and what a fortune the repairments would cost. He
knew how much the alcohol would cost. He didn't know he could just steal said
alcohol until a few days before the party, then did that.
So he was prepared, sort of. He hadn't prepared at all, but he usually didn't
have to. All he did was place an assortment of cheap beers, whiskeys, vodkas
and other alcoholic beverages he didn't recognize on the counter of his
kitchen, then hide in his room to pretend everything was going to be fine,
everything would work out smoothly. He had downed a beer or two already, the
buzz of the alcohol only easing his nerves a little.
"THE PARTY HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, SANS."
"i know."
"YOU HAVE KNOW REASON TO BE MOPING ALREADY."
"heh."
He didn't, he knew that very well. But he also knew that this buzzing, this
screaming, over-toning anxiety in his head did not care at all about whether or
not he had a reason to be moping already. He was. He was terrified and he felt
sick, his stomach in a constant state of twist at the thought of people. Being
in his house. Masses of them. And they'll be drunk, and they'll be drugged, and
they'll be reckless and careless.
He hardly even heard what his younger brother was saying over the shrill
anxiety in his skull.
"-AND NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN MY ROOM, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"
"c'mon pap, you know what it's like. 's wild, i can't control it."
"WELL THEN GET. MORE. CONTROL OVER YOUR PARTIES!!!"
"pap-"
"I'M IN MY ROOM." And with that he left.
Sans knew, of course, that he was right. There were people who  had  control
over their parties. People that could at least tell their guests, hey, maybe
not break my  table in half, take a shit on my dad's PC and steal an antique
photo of my family. Not that Sans had any family or PCs, but the message still
stood.
He couldn't, however. He just couldn't grip that courage that let him go up to
someone and say  he  was in control here.  He  was the dominant party.  If he
told them to stop, they better goddamn  stop.
He couldn't say any of that, ever. Instead he would just watch the chaos, would
watch the wildfire spread with a tense grin and an awkward laugh, pretending
things were going to be  fine.  And then he'd wait until everyone was gone and
he was alone with no one but his brother judging him, and he'd clean up the
mess that was no one's but Sans' own fault.
His brother would remind him of such.
His ten year old brother would be  so much better than him one day.
The door knocked, announcing the first person to arrive, and Sans almost jumped
up from on the bed, his soul racing as his breathing sped up. Easy, buddy. Deep
breaths, everything'll be fine. Everything'll work out somehow.
He marched down the stairs,  opening the door too quickly for his own tastes.
It made it seem like he was excited to see whoever was in front of it. Like he
was happy. While he had actually just no idea how to deal with that nervous
energy in his system.
It was Undyne at the door, the fish monster hardly being a lot older than Sans'
younger brother himself. She was maybe eleven or twelve. But she was an orphan,
just like them, so there was no one really in her life that could or would tell
her not to get drunk, not to get drugged, not to go on parties. She did as she
pleased, and Sans didn't give a crap about what that would be. He let her in.
A couple of more guests followed quickly. Doggo, then the mouse. After the dogi
knocked the door, Sans had decided to keep it open for anyone to enter. It
wasn't a smart decision, let alone a  safe  one, but Sans couldn't deal with
the constant anxiety caused by the knock knock knock on the door. Besides, laws
of safety often lost their meaning during parties. People didn't give a shit
about what the real world was like when they were at someone elses house in a
peaceful meaning, with alcohol at their hands. They just wanted to forget their
lives for a day. Forget that what they were doing right now could get them just
as well dusted. It did unsurprisingly often. But the risk was worth the fake
freedom in their heads for just a few hours.
Sans was completely wasted before the last guest even arrived, and he wasn't
the only one either. He knew there'd been five cases of monsters throwing up so
far, two on the floor, the other three in the sink or the toilet. Sans couldn't
remember how many of those cases it had been himself. He took a lucky guess and
said two, but Undyne assured him it were all five.
"naaah didn't puke  that  much," he slurred to the fish monster that was just
reaching his size. She would be taller than him in no time, though. Honestly,
anyone  would. Except the mouse maybe.
"Oh you did!! I watched it with my own eyes. Eye. I recorded like... three of
those times."
"proof."
And she proofed it, pulling out her shitty phone she got from her smart ass
lizard girlfriend, because twelve year old fish rebels  already had more going
on than Sans ever,  and showed him  the three videos of him vomiting. Twice in
the toilet and once on the floor. Why the heck would she even record that?
" SANS, THERE ARE DOGS IN MY ROOM!!!" Papyrus yelped, his voice shrill even
through the constant noise of the crowd. It stung in Sans' skull, hurt like
someone had bashed it with a ba t . Christ, was he hungover  already ? While
still being drunk? Or maybe it was just that his brother's voice generally
fucking  hurt.
"tell 'em to fuck off," Sans called back, not trusting himself to be able to
climb the stairs up to his brother's room and tell them himself.
"GO AND DIRTY SANS' ROOM!" He heard the younger skeleton command, followed by
the shuffling of paws. Sans was fine with dogs in his room. He was fine with
anyone in his room, he couldn't care less right now. He just wanted to lie down
and not vomit a sixth time.
T here were too many people for Sans to comprehend. Their house wasn't too big,
so there were people gathered in his living room, the kitchen, the front porch
before the house. They'd even made a small fire there. Oh, he hoped they
wouldn't burn the house down.
T here were monsters Sans was pretty sure he's never seen before. A large
dragon monster,  a monster that was just a rope with a flaming tip,  there was
one he could've easily mistaken for a water bucket. Wait, he remembered the
water bucket. His name was Dishwasher or Washingmachine or something like that.
Didn't they replace his water with whiskey on Sans' last birthday?
H e knew doggo brought a weed bowl, charging cash for people to use it, but
Sans couldn't remember whether or not he used it himself. He felt like he did.
Maybe it was the  smoke  in the room that made him feel that way, that
lightheaded and sort of high but not entirely.  Not in the good, relieving way.
A loud scream startled Sans up from the ground again, jumping into the air like
a cat that got stepped on its tail. The sudden movement upset his stomach,
causing him to bend down and go vomit for a sixth time that night. As soon as
his stomach was emptied was emptied once more, though, he lurched up again,
eyes wide with terror, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Dude, it came from upstairs,” a tall, blue rabbit monster told him.
Sans could hardly comprehend anymore what was happening. He just knew that that
scream sounded  anything  but good, sounded terrified, sounded like the noise a
dying animal would make, and that the noise came from  upstairs , and that
suddenly he was teleporting through the void without even initially wanting to.
He landed in his room, panting heavy in panic as he tried to piece together
what he was seeing before him.
There was a Snowdrake in a corner, sitting in the dust of someone else, and
there were two dogs, no three. And between two of them was… was a girl. A young
rabbit monster that shouldn’t even  be  here. She could hardly be older than
Undyne, but he could easily bet she was even younger, maybe ten or eight. And
she was covered in blood and drool and vomit, blood on so many places, places
Sans had hoped he’d never have to see from a girl that age. And the dogs were…
the dogs were on  top  of her.  Inside  her.
Greater Dog was already knotting the girls opening, her stomach swelling with
far,  far  more seed than should’ve ever been inside her, while Lesser Dog was
still thrusting into the rabbit’s throat. At least, Sans noticed, she was
unconscious by now.
Sans felt blind panic grip on his mind, hot rage as he summoned a Blaster, then
another, then a third and a fourth.
“get out!” He growled louder than any of the dogs could, startling both Lesser
Dog and Dogamy whom was sitting in the back of the room, rubbing himself off to
the display.
“Geez, no need to-”
“get the fuck out you bastards!” He couldn’t believe this was happening. On his
party. In his house. In his room. There were dogs, raping children in his room,
apparently already murdered one, and it was- and it was Sans fault. Because he
couldn’t stop them. Because he couldn’t lay down any rules. Because he’d
invited those fucking beasts into his house to let them do whatever they wanted
to, providing alcohol and a room.
Frozen in shock, none of the dogs moved, but Greater Dog finally seemed to get
out of his post-coital haze and noticed the tension in the situation. Sans
concentrated more magic, letting the blasters hum aggressively as he readied
them to shoot. Immediately Dogamy jumped up.
“Alright! Alright, I’m going!” He barked as he sped-walked out of the room.
Lesser dog quickly followed suit, whining pathetically as Sans threw them both
nasty glances. His death glare got directed at Greater Dog.
“I can’t!” The large mutt yipped. “I can’t leave! The knot- I’m stuck!”
“i don’t fucking care!” Sans shouted at him. “pull it out! pull it out!” In
retrospect, saying that might’ve just made the whole experience worse. But Sans
couldn’t think straight anymore. Couldn’t quite fully comprehend what was
happening, what would happen, consequences and options. He just wanted this
dogs dirty cock out of that girl and he wanted those mutts out of his house. He
wanted everyone out of his house. He wanted to be alone, wanted to crawl up
into a ball and cry.
 Terror in his eyes the dog let out a high whine. “Fine! Fine! I’ll force it
out!” He said, and he   did.   His face contorted into one of pain for a moment
as he moved his hips away from the small girls cunt, and then there was a wet
noise. A wet noise quickly followed by the sound of something tearing, but Sans
hardly even noticed the latter sound under the loud, splitting scream of the
rabbit girl, before she turned to dust moments later.
And that’s when Sans completely lost it.
 The blasters disappeared immediately, and so did any control the skeleton had
over himself, as he knelt down on the ground, fingers digging into his skull
and   screamed.   He screamed louder than the dead girl, screamed louder than
the fucking monster that had just   died before him.   His hands were getting
sticky with a disgusting mix of tears and blood and there was magic waste
collecting in his mouth again before he threw up, still screaming. He didn’t
realized the monsters around him, didn’t realize Papyrus rushing out of his
room, didn’t realize he wasn’t breathing anymore until he passed out in a
puddle of blood, tears, magic vomit.
 
When Sans woke up, the house was quiet besides from the noise of Papyrus
cleaning up the rest bit of dust still in the room. It was only a matter of
seconds before Sans remembered what happened before he passed out, and he
leaned to his side to choke up more magic waste, but there was absolutely
nothing left but spit.
“DON’T THROW UP AGAIN,” Papyrus warned. “I JUST MANAGED TO CLEAN EVERYTHING
UP.”
Sans didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He couldn’t talk or move at all. The best he
could do was roll himself up into a ball and cry as Papyrus eyed him curiously.
After a while, the older skeleton calmed himself down enough to talk.
“whe...where’s...” His voice was weak, raspy, hurt from the screaming.
“THE GUESTS LEFT AFTER YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT. THEY WANTED TO KILL YOU.”
“...why haven’t they…?”
“ARE YOU STUPID?” Papyrus retorted, crossing his arms. Sans didn’t reply. “IF
YOU’D DIE, IF MY OLDER BROTHER WOULD DIE, PEOPLE WOULD KNOW YOU’RE WEAK. THEY’D
THINK I’M WEAKER. I COULDN’T LET THAT HAPPEN.”
“so you...”
“I TOLD THEM TO GET LOST.”
So his brother had saved his life. His younger brother, which Sans had promised
to protect and had protected for at least ten years successfully, was suddenly
protecting him. Was Sans really that pathetic? Or was Papyrus just that much
better than him? Maybe it was both.
“I’M GOING TO MY ROOM. GET YOURSELF CLEANED UP WHEN YOU’RE NOT...” He didn’t
continue that thought, instead just left Sans alone in his room to continue his
panic attack in silence.
 
To his surprise and definitely to his luck, Papyrus didn’t bring it up anymore.
The party, the rabbit girl, the dogs, Sans panic attack. It was as if it’d
never happened and Sans could pretend that was the case.
When he turned seventeen he’d decided to never throw a party again. Papyrus
didn’t understand at first. Parties were like a custom for turning a year
older. Mostly only, because everyone wanted that bit of time to act like
everything’s okay and people weren’t dying left and right. But Sans was sick of
it. Sans was sick of parties and he didn’t care if people thought he was weak
or lost it completely or even thought he was dead because suddenly his parties
stopped. He didn’t want to throw them anymore.
Papyrus, however, did throw parties once he turned thirteen. And that might’ve
been to Sans the first thing that would actually trigger him into a full-blown
panic attack. That was, until Papyrus got sick of it. Got sick of Sans acting
like a broken toy. He’d forced the habit out of him.
Sans obliged.
And maybe it had actually helped, Sans thought. Maybe forcing his panic out of
him was actually the way to go at it, because after some years, after more
parties, Sans was okay. He was okay and could deal and would only have that
ever-apparent anxiety that he’d always had anyway.
Sans was okay.
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