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[St] Calcite Knight (V)

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Frisk gasped, her back smacking the division of doors on their issued embassy car. As she lifted her left hand to block the sunlight, she hesitated when the sight of wrinkled suit shoulders did the job for her. *Sans?* Bright blue eyes blinked out her confusion; he must have shortcutted to her, but why, she did not know. Her cellphone vibrated its demand for her attention, alerting Frisk to the unsettling silence. Touching her free hand to Sans’ left scapula, Frisk gently pushed him to move aside; he did not. Ice trickled down her spine as she pressed her hand down. Sans was shivering. *My dear, what--*

That is when Papyrus’ scream tore into the tense calm. “SANS! OH NO!

*What?!* Frisk panicked, signing across Sans’ trembling back. *What has happened? Please move aside!* He still would not, even as a struggle of fabric and metal rose up beyond him.

“You're under arrest!” Kendrik shouted amidst the scuffle, his voice more authoritative than Frisk had heard since meeting him. “For the attempted assassination of a poli--”

*Huh…?* Frisk ignored the rest of Kendrik’s order, her body colder than it ever was in Snowdin. Images blurred past her eyes as she tugged on Sans’ jacket but she could not recall what happened before she struck the car. She hadn't long to wonder, a piercing shriek of metal flanking her. Gasping, Frisk froze. Gouges in the paint led to Sans’ distal phalanges, his hands defying his body’s attempt to collapse. *S-Sans…?*

BROTHER!” Papyrus called again, his voice even closer. “YOU MUST LIE DOWN! QUICK!” Over Sans’ shoulders, Frisk saw Papyrus grab at Sans’ arms to help him down, but despite all efforts, Sans still slid and crumbled down the car, onto the asphalt. When she noticed a space open at his side, Frisk squeezed free and spun back.

Glass splintered, her phone scattering across the asphalt. She didn't care, didn’t hear it. Through the immediate burn of tears, the handle of a chef’s knife stood out against a white shirt and the swelling crimson stain consuming it.

“Nnyh…!” Frisk squeaked, her already pathetic voice shutting itself up in her throat. Sprinting around her skeleton, Frisk knelt before him and forced her hands under his shoulders. As she whimpered and cried, Papyrus aided her in lifting Sans to rest upon her bent legs. Asphalt and loose pebbles scraped her knees and shins but she felt nothing. Except fear and sorrow.  And regret.

*Agent S-Sans! Why did you--* Unable to control her shuddering hands, Frisk pressed them against his cheeks, fingers trembling against his jaw. Coughing back a sob, Frisk caught sight of the knife buried defiantly in his chest and reached toward it; Papyrus’ fingers wrapped around her wrists.

DO NOT, HUMAN!” Papyrus insisted, even while his hands shook as much as hers. “THE WOUND IS UNSTABLE! MOVING THE KNIFE WILL CAUSE MORE DAMAGE!

*B-But!* Her fingers flailed in her guards grip and she shook her head until her neck hurt. *We must do something! Heal him please!* In her peripheral vision, the hilt glared at her, a middle finger to her despair. The circle of blood around the handle kept growing, the blade having shifted when he went down. *Please!*

I SHALL TRY, HUMAN!” Papyrus promised though his expression was grim. Whatever confidence Frisk hoped to see in her optimistic older brother’s face was absent now. “BUT I FEAR I WILL NEED THE ASSISTANCE OF THE QUEEN.

*Mother?* Frisk queried but as she tried to compose more questions, she finally noticed them. The whispers. Hushed declarations of intolerance, ignorance, and suspicion. How it must be fake, that skeletons don't have the parts to bleed, something was wrong, weird, not possible. Frisk gritted her teeth, shut her eyes tight, disliking other humans more than she thought she could.

Before her countless vocal lessons burst free in anger, Papyrus shot to his feet beside her.

PLEASE! HUMANS! STOP!” Papyrus stood straight and strong, his arms now limp at his sides. Tears glimmered in his slim eye sockets and marked his bones when they fell. “I KNOW WE SEEM IMPOSSIBLE TO YOU!

Papyrus’ voice carried through the crowd, no longer ignored by shouts of opposition. “WE DO NOT MATCH YOUR SCIENCE BUT WE--” He smacked his hand against his sternum, above his soul. “WE DO BLEED! WE DO FEEL PAIN!

The whispering continued but lacked the tension and bitterness of a minute prior. Many humans lowered their eyes, bowed their heads, too ashamed to face the crying skeleton whose suit and skull were still stained tomato flesh pink.

SO PLEASE!” Papyrus pleaded, hand clutching at his suit. Frisk stared at him, her bottom lip quivering. “PLEASE DON’T HURT MY BROTHER ANYMORE!

heh…” Sans coughed. Though strained, his usual grin broke out of hiding. “just like paps to be nice to those jerks…

*Agent Sans!* Frisk signed in a fluster of surprise and relief. When his pupil lights found her glistening blue eyes, her rapid heartbeat jolted. A shaken smile pulled at her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs. *Wh-What have I told you about lying down on the job?*

heh,” Sans coughed more, red flecking onto his teeth and chin. Though without lungs, the perforation of his soul cavity was a critical wound. Air passed easily between their bones, and if touching with care, fingers could dip slightly between the ribs without disrupting the soul space. Blood oozed up against the blade, every few millilitres, another hp lost. Since leaving the Underground, Sans trained to be a guard capable of surviving one ill-dodged hit.

That meant no one knew the limits of his constitution anymore.

sorry…” Sans grimaced through the pain, wishing to lessen the anxiety in his human’s expression. Any attempt to grab a visual of her attacker failed; Julius’ team had dragged him away. Chara could not be physical any more than he could possess a random human, but the off-hue shirt was a shade too close for comfort. He wanted to know...for sure. “i temporalobe-y forgot.

*Naughty skeleton.* Frisk giggled through the lump in her throat. She flexed her fingers, rifling through her cache of Sans puns for a clever reply; Kendrik approached before one was secured.

“The assailant is in our custody, and we are apprehending other instigators.” His tone remained stoic and military, but in the light of the afternoon, Kendrik’s eyes reminded Frisk of melting ice. As though he were in reminiscence. “How may we assist you and your agent?”

Frisk faltered, lost, her hand hovering without a word. As monsters all possessed a degree of healing magic, she was never in the position to be of any aid. A strangled squeak escaped before she bit down on her lip, desperate to dam up her tears. Mask her weakness from prying eyes. To her relief, Papyrus turned to them; in his left hand was his cellphone, shaking at pace with his fingers.

PLEASE ARRANGE TRANSPORT TO HER MAJESTY’S RESIDENCE!” Papyrus articulated with unexpected ease when combined with the fear in his eye sockets and his quaking shoulders. Kendrik pressed his lips together, admiring him. He had not imagined Papyrus to be so level-headed in a crisis.  “I HAVE INFORMED UNDYNE OF THE SITUATION.

“Please wait a few moments,” Kendrik requested, already snapping a radio comms device into place around his left ear. “I will secure the airspace; our helicopters are the swiftest choice.”

Sans missed a lot of the dialogue between his brother and Julius’ “babysitter,” his thoughts all jumbled and askew. He kept thinking about Chara, about his nightmare as they drove to this twist of fate. The assailant was not possessed yet performed as the ideal understudy.

It had bothered him, this nightmare, but not because it assaulted a frighteningly accurate image of Frisk. He’d been on edge all day, eyes darting for a glimpse of danger, but now it made sense. With every congealed, burning breath, Sans realized what didn’t set his bones just right.

Chara never turned his blade on Frisk. Not once. Myriad timelines fluttered past like a shuffling deck of cards, but not one memory had he where this was true. He’d puppeteer her body into battle until it could fight no longer, but if ever that knife touched her flesh, it was Frisk in control. Those deep blue eyes staring out with chilling determination.

...so what, then? was that phantom tryin’ ta...warn--’ A violent cough expelled more blood through his clenched teeth; Sans fell deeper into Frisk’s lap, gently shaking his skull. ‘no, tha’s stupid...’ He closed his eye sockets, the blink giving up halfway. Despite his difficulties breathing, his increasingly leaden bones whispered insistence that sleep would come easy and be all he needed. Sans was inclined to agree. He didn’t want to think or fight anymore.

Sudden but gentle warmth kissed his chest, a faint distraction from the pain. Groaning, Sans opened his eye sockets; Frisk’s glistening eyes and small smile greeted him. *Thank goodness!* One hand danced through the air while the other rested above his soul. Its glow was dim but whole. Blood rusted her glove to ruin, though. *Papyrus! Look look!* Papyrus did as she asked while kneeling next to them again. A shaky albeit genuine smile shone through the fear.

eh k-heh…” Sans laughed through the blood in his mouth, comforted by the sight of the ones he loved most. “a marrow es-stapes?

Frisk giggled in unison with Papyrus’ groan, the expected sounds tense and shivering. Shuffling closer, Papyrus touched the tips of his index and thumb distal phalanges together; the length of his digits encircled the blade as palms sunk into blood-drenched fabric. Sunset orange light glowed off the bones before seeping into Sans’ chest. The lack of a placating smile upon Papyrus’ mouth told his siblings the damage was beyond his optimism and confidence.

yer lookin’ kinda bonetrousled, bro,” Sans murmured, his skull lolling to rest against Frisk’s left thigh. Despite all efforts to swallow it back, blood drooled off his jaw and painted wispy designs over her skin. He felt so tired.

NO MORE PUNS!” Papyrus demanded, keeping his gaze on Sans’ chest. Sounding more sad than annoyed, the elder skeleton drooped his shoulders, trying to fix everything. Find every piece to a puzzle he did not break. “PLEASE SAVE YOUR STRENGTH, BROTHER.

kay…” Sans sighed, slumping into Frisk’s lap. Before he could shut his eye sockets again, tiny hands patted his zygomatic and maxillae bones. “oh, hey, kiddo,” he chuckled, grinning up at her.

*I--* Frisk flexed her fingers into fists, inhaled, then shook them loose. *Agent, you are not to fall asleep on the job!* Smiling was wearing her out, the young girl’s confidence waning. She was used to lazy Sans, sleepy Sans, uncooperative Sans, but no matter how rose-coloured the glasses were, they kept slipping from her face. Even ignoring the blood, his pupil lights were dissipating. *Look at me and promise.*

Sans coughed, barely moved except to sigh and sink into her legs. “kid--”  

*No!* Frisk argued, slashing her hands through the air in defiance, careful to shift only above the waist. She blinked away the tears, forcing their eyes to meet. *No, you are my guard and I am or-ordering you to--*

The young woman gasped as Sans’ right hand caught hers mid-sign, every bone trembling. She tried to sign his name with her free left hand but his voice held her still. “...sorry, kid, i can’t ssssseem to see yer h-hands…

“Hgnn…” Frisk whimpered, the emotion building as Sans dragged her hand back down with his, both collapsing upon his shoulder. Holding back the rising sobs, breathing faster as necessary, Frisk wrested a laugh out of her throat so her voice would try and be useful, even once. “Ah, a ha-heh.” Frisk shook, so, so scared. “Y-You are a m-most troubles-some knight…”

i’ll treat ya ta dinner…” Sans mumbled, closing his eye sockets before his pupil lights extinguished. Frisk’s pats to his cheek didn’t work a second time.

“A-Agent--” Frisk coughed, her throat seared and hot. The rest of her body felt unbearably cold.

whadda ya…” Sans exhaled out his strength, skull falling against their tangled hands.

“A--Sans!”

s-say…

“No!” Frisk cried out as Sans’ grip slid sideways; she grabbed onto hand, clutching the still bones. “Sans!” His chest rose no longer, his coughing ceased. Frisk screamed in a pitch she didn’t think she possessed.

SANS!
I will always be your sword...and your shield...

~~~

Hi everyone!!

Omigosh, this beast has taken quite a long time to pull together but I'm soooooo excited to finally reveal Calcite Knight to all of you. I originally created it as a fan fiction for Securitale, but teki-chan has since adopted me as her writer, so now it is a big event in the canon!

There are 5 parts to CK, but it is really just 1 chapter. I have divided each section into parts for ease of reading--a lot of Securitale thus far has been presented in art and comic pages, so I thought a 24-page chapter might be too overwhelming on the eyes to read in one sitting. :heart: 

Sans has become stronger to protect Frisk from threats but is it enough to survive a familiar wound, inflicted once upon a timeline?


Thank you for reading!! <3


Part IV: Securitale -- Calcite Knight (IV)
Once out of the vehicle, Sans took in the dangerous sight only humans knew how to create. He hit the lock button before shutting Frisk inside, the heavy clunk providing a mild reassurance. His movements were slow, his pulse swift. Dozens of protesters filled the street and swelled over the front lawns of the adjacent houses; either the owners did not care, were too scared to argue, or were scattered among the masses. Sans’ bet was clear. Many raised empty fists to the sky but others swung flags and banners, or raved their homemade signs above their heads. There were chairs strewn about, most toppled over, presumably when the car finally rolled into their web; not a single human was sitting now.
Perhaps the most unifying, terrifying element of this diverse crowd was their apparel, a sea of green staring Sans down. It was the shade of emerald, representing their idol prince, but hue alone did not erase Chara’s smirk from ghosting through the crowd. He shuddered, pressed his a





All Undertale characters belong to Toby Fox
Julius belongs to :icontekitourabbit:
Kendrik and other Julius security team members by me
Securitale is the mad but amazing idea of :icontekitourabbit:'s. I'mma co-pilot. <3
© 2016 - 2024 Riku-of-Darkness
Comments91
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Brynwyth's avatar
As a reader, I don't like you right now for that ending.
As a fellow writer, I say bravo! You've done an excellent job of riling me and up and making me feel despair for the situation. Your writing is superb! Can't wait to read more. :)