There was something different about the way Asgore carried himself through their garden. The low, rumbling sound of humming practically purring across the plants, weeds tumbling out from the dirt across the padded feet. A pathway made of once sharp, square stones was jagged and unkept, but that didn't deter the King of monsters from pressing forward in his quest, stepping carefully over the overgrown and abandoned backyard. The sun barreled down against his white fur, sweat dribbling down his body, evident for the heat wave hitting their town.

Skeletons didn't care for the garden didn't use it as effectively as he did, really. That much was rather obvious. They never really had a need for a garden, neither really knew exactly how to tend one. Store bought food was far more preferable, even though the two had plenty enough time to keep one. Papyrus was simply ignorant and impatient with nature, often overwatering plants until they were sitting in a puddle, flooded roots causing them to float away with inescapable death. Sans, on the other hand, gave too little attention, causing the once beautiful scenery to wilt away into nothing but a sad mockery of its former treasure. A shame for Asgore, to see such a beautiful and expansive garden go to waste with the green thumbs he obtained over the years.

Gardens weren't on their list of 'things the skeleton brothers absolutely wanted' when they went house searching. They weren't really looking for much, none of the monsters were picky or demanding. All they really searched for was a two bedroom house, nothing more.

Their house was obtained from a woman who had died to age, explaining the state of the house. The garden she once likely cared for was forgotten, weeds confusing the property. No one else wanted the house, stationed at the edge of town right under the large mountain, cleaned of any valuable items by those in her will. Her house was unwanted by it's receiver, causing it to be abandoned for years. It was cheap, and the work it needed gave Papyrus something to do.

Astounding, really, how good Papyrus was at cleaning. He got a lot of practice from Sans, really. The foundation of the house itself wasn't perfect. Boards creaked in protest, even the slightest wind made the house practically fall over. When they had first entered the property, there was enough dust inside to rival a genocide run, only the source wasn't from a murderous child, but of neglect instead.

Papyrus managed to spruce up the place for the few weeks they've been living there. Not perfect, but better. The creaking was still there, taunting the brothers about their terrible building skills each time they would walk up the stairs. Neither could really fix it, they weren't very good at dealing with house repairs. Thankfully, the dust was now gone, and a few of the broken windows and falling apart doors have been replaced. The house wasn't really their dream home, it was a temporary stay until they got used to the surface, much like many of the other houses monsters had chosen to inhabit. Simply to move out of the Underground, to remind everyone they were free.

Which was true. They were free! After so long, resets couldn't happen anymore. It was over, the surface was too big to reset. Frisk had no control over time anymore, and Sans was glad about that. No more repeating time, no more suffering.

"That's rather kind, Papyrus," Asgore had hummed out so smoothly Sans almost missed it, the skeleton looking up from their back porch.

"Of course! Someone might as well take over the garden while we stay!" Papyrus said, "You can always let yourself in through the back gate!"

"Just not into the house, at least knock," Sans said, shooting the King a finger gun.

Asgore gently nodded. "That goes without speaking, obviously."

A cup of lemonade was offered, ice clinking against the side of the glass as the goat monster accepted the beverage. Sans and Papyrus had no need for a cooler drink, they had no skin. The heat couldn't affect them.

"Are you guys going to keep that angel, though?"

"Angel?"

Sans followed his gaze, looking at the statue in the corner of their garden. It was tall, standing out with the chipped stone making out the angel body. The statue was admittedly a bit creepy, with angel wings dangling from its body, just standing in the back of their garden, facing the group. Thank Toby Fox the hands were pressed against the face, as if it was crying. If anything, the hands probably were just built to cover the face so the designer didn't have to add in a detailed face. Smart move, saved time and made it look way creepier.

Was that there before?

"Oh, silly me, I must have overlooked it!" Papyrus made a point to smile, practically ignoring the sudden appearance of a random statue. "Aw, it's an angel!"

Unease slowly crept up Sans' back, trickling into his soul. Something about the statue felt... off. Wrong.

"Was it there before?" Sans asked.

He didn't remove his gaze from the object, even when Papyrus and Asgore did. He never really did go out into the garden until today, but wouldn't Papyrus at least have noticed?

"I'm not sure, I never went out back here either!" Papyrus said, shrugging. "Oh well! I think we could keep it, and maybe get a few smaller statues to help decorate!"

"I do believe a few old fashioned statues could go with a certain collection of flowers." Asgore looked to the side, gently sipping away as his green thumb seemed to shine away with passion. "I know a few flowers that would go great here with the angel to really help your house shine..."

Just like that, they glossed over the angel.

Sans had turned back one last time to glance at the angel before he had retreated inside, the sense of discomfort growing. It looked a bit closer than before.

~~~~~~

The heat wave had settled down the next day, settling back down to more bearable summer temperature. It felt like a good day. Birds were singing, their garden was doing better thanks to Asgore. Papyrus went to apply for a cooking job, despite not needing the money. Monsters traveling to the surface with gold as currency was a brilliant idea, as everyone now had a enough money to fulfill their dreams they never could Underground. They weren't rich, but they were well off for awhile. Sans has worked several jobs before, and the money from those really helped.

Sans' own thoughts were focused the other more important matters, really. He wasn't used to just... settling down. Not like this. He was used to constantly thinking, suddenly having the chance to lay back and not worry was off putting. And without Papyrus to mess with, frankly, it was incredibly boring. While he did display a personality of a dull life, it was always the opposite. Sans was smart, he liked to think and put his knowledge to use. Without the need for his lab, the machine long forgotten, there was nothing for him to do. No resets to fight against, no science to do.

Wasn't this what he wanted, though? The question poked at Sans that morning, the skeleton unscrewing the bottle of ketchup on their green couch as the T.V droned on in front of him. Isn't this the ideal life for anyone? To sit at home, favorite food in hand. Everything was perfect. He had a decent house, good friends, delicious food, and freedom. Papyrus was happy. So he should be happy.

Sans leaned back into the cushions, staring up at the old ceiling as a sigh rumbled out of his chest. Maybe it was just the change of scenery. After being stuck Underground all of his life, the sudden change in everything could have just jarred him. Yeah, that could be it.

If only Sans was as good lying to himself as he was lying to everyone else. That solution didn't convince him, he knew it was wrong. Yet he decided to brush aside the problem of his empty feeling, forcing his slow bones to pull himself off the couch and to shuffle into the kitchen.

There was that angel, through the window in the kitchen. He could see it as he mercilessly tossed leftover spaghetti into the microwave.

It was definitely in a different position. The same pose, but closer. Before, the angel had been at the very edge of their garden, hidden away in the corner against the old fence. Yet now it was halfway across, seeming more confident as it was more in the open.

Papyrus sure as heck didn't move it, that was for sure. The only two people that could have didn't visit, unless Asgore decided to go work on their garden overnight. The gate was open, Sans could see it uselessly creaking in the wind outside. Someone had come in through the back.

With his curiosity grabbing ahold of him, Sans went to the backdoor, pushing it open to check on the locks. They still worked, that was good. Just in case anyone had tried to enter through their backyard. It could explain why the angel was moved, maybe someone had moved it.

But that didn't make sense. Why would they go in through the gate and just move a statue closer to the house? There was signs of attempted break in, Sans could see the faint fingernail marks at the door. Someone had tried to get in last night, no doubt about it.

Which meant this wasn't the doing of a robber. If they tried to break in, they wouldn't have moved the statue. And that crossed off the idea of it being a prank, too. The only two people he knew that would be capable of moving a statue were Asgore and Undyne. Asgore wasn't the type to do pranks, and Undyne wouldn't have tried to break in if she did prank them.

Fantastic.

Sans dragged his skull up to look at the statue, it confirming his suspicions. Now it was closer than before, covering half of the distance between them, crushing the weeds below.

The statue was alive.

That should have made him afraid, and it did. The feeling of immense fear, adrenaline, the feeling of action. Of living.

Sans pushed those feelings aside, stepping back into the house. No, no. He doubted this statue was nice, and he couldn't let it near Papyrus. And Papyrus was going to be home soon. If this thing was dangerous, which was very, very likely, he didn't want it at their house.

But what could Sans do? He couldn't exactly lift it, it had no soul. Telekinesis for Sans could lift things, but large statues was not one of them. The skeleton pressed his face against the glass of the back door lightly, unsure how to continue. Calling Papyrus was an option. He could direct him to a different location, tell him to go hang out with Undyne. Yeah, that sounded good.

Briefly had Sans looked away to grab his phone from the counter before he was looking up, finding the backyard entirely empty. No statue, no angel. With a confused face, he pressed against the window once more, eyelights dancing back and forth in a hurry. It was just gone. Just like that.

Did the statue leave because Sans went inside? Was that just it? Never to be seen again?

Sans should feel relieved. Whatever that thing was, it was gone. And Sans was relieved! If it meant to hurt Papyrus, it wouldn't because it left. Yet...

That meant the feeling of danger was gone. Sans could return to his normal day, return to the couch. The sudden spike of energy was dwelling down, causing his mood to boil down into the bland day he had been having before.

So, Sans did just that. He settled back onto the couch, feeling just as empty and bored as ever.

He almost wanted to run out and go chase the angel.

~~~~~~

The way the angel had left didn't make sense. Sans figured as such. It felt like they had left when he caught them. For some reason, the statue wanted to get into the house.

Sans should have left it. The statue was gone, so he should have just continued about his day. However, the source of why it tried to break into the house in the first place was unknown.

Until Sans thought back to when they had first bought the house. The memory was ever present, reminding him of a possible source to why they were there.

It was a stretch, sure, but it would explain the sudden statue in their garden.

Cool to the touch, the key dangled in his hand, the thin rope looped through the top carefully wrapped through his fingers. They had tried to the key on every room in the house, it wasn't made to fit those types of doors.

Papyrus had theorized about it, but once he lost interest, it became discarded. The key was useless, it didn't open anything, it couldn't be used. The key looked so simple, so plain, that it was easily overlooked once they found no use for it, stored away into the corner of their basement.

But so was the statue. It blended in, it looked so normal no one would suspect otherwise. Heck, Sans never even saw it move, it moved whenever he had looked away.

Everything of any sort of value within the house had been cleaned out long ago, after the original owner had passed on. What was left was only dust and broken, useless objects. A broken chandelier, a couch with the cushions torn open from a cats claws.

If there was anything the angels wanted from within the house, it was this. A key. It was the only object that could be even used for anything, and it explained the actions of the statue. The angel had watched the two until they were asleep, then tried to break in overnight. When it failed, and Sans caught on, it left. The angel wanted to get inside, it wanted something from this house.

Sans walked out of the basement, letting the old door thud shut as he tangled the string through his digits. Papyrus could be heard, his own high pitched humming practically consuming the house, the feeble noise of soft pink slippers practically drowned out.

They would be going to bed soon, and he had made sure everything was secure. Doors and windows were locked, everything was good.

"Nyeh heh! The Great Papyrus has packed away dinner!" Papyrus finished, placing his container of spaghetti into the fridge.

"Sure thing, bro."

Paps was so cool.

The rest of the night continued normally. They got dressed, brushed their teeth, and went to bed. It was a fairly regular night, really.

Once the faint sound of Papyrus' snores came did Sans dare to move, the key clutched in his hand as he quietly moved about. There really wasn't much to his plan, he was just testing to see if what he assumed was right.

So, the backdoor was unlocked, and a ketchup bottle was opened. Sans gently pushed their table into the middle of the living room and settled down onto the couch, letting the key bounce down against the table.

And he waited.

If the angel wanted the key, it would likely come and try to grab it again. And with every other entry locked, Sans would catch it on it's way in. It wasn't like he would be getting much sleep anyway with his nightmares.

Usually, Sans spent this time looking at the stars. He really loved the surface, especially the stars. Sans liked everything that dealt with space, he was a bit of a star nerd. One would expect monsters, once they escaped, to be all over the stars. Yet, not many monsters did. Sans knew he would tire people out with his fascination of stars, so he often times it down. Monsters more loved the sun and scenery, no one wanted to watch the stars with Sans. A sad but simple fact he had come to accept.

Some people just didn't like to stare at dots in the sky, and Sans had to say it was rather fair. Why should Sans force them to do something they didn't want to do?

The sudden appearance in the living room after Sans blinked made him jump, pressing back. There was the angel, right there, in the middle of the room. It's hand was reaching down, just barely gripping the string to hold the key about a few inches above the table. The other arm was bent up, covering the eyes still.

With hesitance, Sans stood up, easing his way towards the angel statue. Definitely could move on it's own. And it was quick, too, very quick. If it had teleported, Sans would have felt the shift in space, being able to do so himself.

When he grasped the key in his hand, he kept his eyelights on it as he backed away. Everytime he looked away or blinked, they moved.

The message was rather simple.

Don't blink.

That was the funny thing about his situation. Sans had an advantage over others. He was a skeleton; skeletons don't need to blink.

"So you guys do want this key," Sans said, "Why? I mean, knowledge is the key to life so I'd like to know."

Right. It couldn't communicate to him, not like that. The angel couldn't move when he was looking at it, and he was guessing it couldn't speak.

His eye socket sparked with magic before a collection of blue bone attacks shot out of the ground, collecting around the angel to form a barrier. Just to make sure it wasn't teleporting or anything.

Sure enough, when Sans blinked, the sight he opened his eye sockets to proved his point. The angel had moved impossibly fast, now recoiled from the blue bones. It's other arm was now lowered from the angel's face, gripping their injured hand. Sans could see the scorch marks, meaning they can get injured when they move. Blue attacks were really helpful when you didn't want someone to move.

But Sans couldn't exactly keep it in his house like some sort of prisoner. What would he even do with it? Explaining it wouldn't really work, as he didn't even have enough information to even conclude what was going on. All he had was that there was the key, and the statue wanted the key. Why? That was a good question.

All he was really worried about was Papyrus' safety, but the thrill of the mystery did make itself known. This was the most real and alive Sans had felt in so long, it was exciting.

Another snore from Papyrus broke through the silence, the blue hooded skeleton snapping his face towards the stairs leading to the second floor. Right, that was why he couldn't let this statue stay in his house. It could hurt his brother.

Sans knew better than to trust things with no souls. Flowey was an example of how survival became their only purpose.

That's why Sans had created a barrier of blue bones to act as a pathway, leading out of their back door for the angel to leave. Could he even kill it? The angel was fast, and in order to even do damage he'd have to fight with his eyes closed. Basically, he'd lose, and Papyrus would be next in line. While he was upstairs, sleeping, unaware the statue from their garden even could move.

Thankfully, the angel must have taken that as a sign to retreat. When he blinked again, it was gone, retreating into the dark night that had consumed their backyard.

Oh, they'd be back. Sans knew that. Just like Flowey, creatures with no souls never stopped pursuing what they wanted unless it came to death. And Sans had a feeling the key was important.

And maybe, just maybe, he was... kind of looking forward to it.