Key Masters:
L05Noah
Saviorbook
DJrayray210
weakfish19
Nakayushimari
yoshimanakaritsu
Ahem, me. UwU

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

My name is Dr. Julien Roberts.

I am a rookie resident surgeon of the pulmonary department, a lung doctor, you may call me as. Right now, I was scanning through pages and pages of ironically countable patient files here in the hospital’s medical records archive. 

As my sea-green orbs concentrated on the yellow tinted papers, my hands that held them firmly were visibly trembling. I was excited and at the same time, nervous. 

I came here in preparation for my first medical operation, but that's not why I was jittery. 

I was selected to hold as in charge of the pulmonary surgery for Patient #25. Her condition was nothing serious, but what really made me nervous, was the fact that she was a VIP in this hospital. The last thing I wanted was for them to fire me or just plain mess up with things, so I need to make sure that I know what to do without any mistakes at all. 

Well, I was entirely surprised beyond repair back then, because before I knew it, I was accepted here in WingDing Medical Center, the most prestigious medical facility in all of Ebott City! I wasn't even top of my class, so how come I was here? 

Probably some kind of mess with the data, but I guess luck was extremely at my side.

And now, this. A VIP. On my first day too. 

Continuing my search, I didn’t notice a nurse come right in, standing right behind me. When she spoke up, that was the time I finally realized she was beside me, and you can’t imagine how startled I was. 

I yelped, falling down my stool, accidentally colliding my arms to the once organized files, for them to fly high, scattered across the room. So much for luck. 

I looked back at her, receiving the sorry look on her face, a faint red hue visible on her cheeks from embarrassment. 

“Oh no, I am so sorry.” she cried, helping me up, “People always get the same reaction actually.” she chuckled nervously, not bothering to look up to me. I dusted myself off the, er, dust, before rubbing the back of my neck. 

“Yeah, that's fine.” I shrugged, shooting her a reassuring smile. I observed her features further, her sleek black hair tied up to a long ponytail, her purple glimmering eyes resembling that of amethyst crystals. There on her right arm, she held an unfamiliar blue clipboard. There was a number written at the back side of it, but it was so small, I couldn't see it. 

Shifting my gaze back in the area we’re in, I slightly frowned in distaste at the mess I've caused. Yellow pages of various scriptures were piled everywhere, it seemed impossible to count how many they are. 

“Do you need help?” she offered. 

“Yes please.” I laughed, accepting it. I didn't want to arrive late on my first day anyway, so of course, I couldn't finish all of this up on my own. She gladly beamed, seeming to take this as her pay for her unintended unexpected arrival, that caused all this. 

“Pardon me, may I ask you your name, Dr…?” she paused in question, while continuing to bend and pick pages of paper. 

"Julien." I answered with a gentle smile, "Dr. Julien Roberts."

"Julien…" she paused from her duty, gawking at me in awe, "As in, Dr. Roberts of the Lung Department? The one in-charge of the operation for Patient #25?" 

By the looks, and tone of her expression, I could tell how bewildered she was, the same as how baffled I was of why and how the heck did she know me?! It's barely my first day here, and I haven't done anything awe-inspiring yet! 

As I was about to reply with a full yes (which I managed to let out as a hum of approval), my eyes quickly caught sight of probably the most interesting thing that I'd ever see in my whole entire career. I simply threw aside some of the files, only for my eager hands reaching greedily to grasp on the yellow-tinted pages of a certain remarkable record. 

It was the patient medical records of none other than my hero himself, Dr. Sans Gaster! I can't believe it, after all those years of fantasizing that one day, I'd be able to see his works of perfection, his victorious, impossible successions… I didn't know today would be the day I'd achieve that dream. 

Now this one really topped off all the luck life has been giving me. 

I scanned through pages, and pages of endless achievements, none considered as failu-

"What's this?" I asked, a frown weighing down my frivolous excitement, as I stared blankly on the last page in horror. 

It red;

[Patient #25
Name: Frisk Mercy
Age: 23
Occupation: Therapist
Condition: Unusual swell, and bleeding of the soul, due to depression
Status: Deceased] 

"D-deceased? B-but…" I froze, shocked from such discovery. Never, I mean, never had Sans ever committed any failure, I was so sure there wouldn't be any reason, nor there were any slight chances he'd fail. Why tell me now that he did? Was he keeping secrets from the public? Of his failures? Did he commit other failures before? 

I looked at Nurse Sheena, who gave me a slight smile, her purple eyes twinkling with sorrow… And mourn. 

She gently took the paper I held, as she gazed at the file that held up a photograph of a woman, with shoulder-length chestnut brown hair, tied down to a bun, her honey-glazed golden orbs staring back at us onlookers. I presumed her to be Frisk, that's for sure. 

"Frisk…" she murmured lowly, her tone that of recollection of a fragment she once cherished in her thoughts. 

"The first patient #25. I could still remember the time she'd smile at us whenever we came to check up on the girl."

"Wait, hold up." I interrupted, "How did you know this-are you…!" 

"Yes." the nurse in front of me chuckled, "I'm Dr. Sans' secretary." she smiled, trialing herself back to our current topic. 

"She was the nicest, the most caring, the most understanding person every person in this hospital has ever met. In fact, just the look of her lips curving up could brighten anyone's day-even the cold-hearted Sans himself, couldn't bear to resist it."

I was in awe of what she said. I knew of how difficult it would be to reach for the best soul surgeon in all of Ebott. That fact alone was an understandable point that there's no doubt he'd be cruel. But this…

I looked back at Frisk's picture in wonder. She seemed just a simple lady, though how was it possible for her to land light on the heart of this skeleton monster, who literally has no heart at all?

"A lot of doctors here took huge interest for her, not just because of her soft appearance, but because of her even softer personality. Take Dr. John for instance."

"Interesting."

We continued on discussing the whole history of Sans and Frisk, not noticing the fact that we're already halfway from finishing the mess I carelessly caused. 

"It must've been hard." I told her after finishing her story. 

"Hm? Yes, of course it was hard. For Dr. Sans. He was the most affected after all."

"Painful. He didn't get the chance to confess his feelings of care." I added. 

Deep in thought, I asked, "Why did you hide her records, this failure? Was he-" 

"Ashamed? Yes." she responded thoughtfully, "But not because of his reputation… It was because he did not want to face this past of his, of losing someone he loved the most."

"How is he now?" 

"He's…" she was about to answer, but decided to bite her lip, keeping herself from talking further. We stood there, organizing in utterless silence… 

_________________________________________

“Is that him?”

“Wow!”

“That’s Dr. Sans Gaster!”

Yes, his name is Dr. Sans Gaster, PhD, the greatest soul surgeon in all of Ebott City. His name was known in all parts of the Surface, knowing he succeeded over twenty-three soul operations and no failures. He is the pride and star doctor of the largest medical facility in the city, WingDing Medical Center, owned by his father himself, Dr. W.D. Gaster. Thus, it isn’t a surprise many respected the great doctor.

They’d do anything to win his attention.

But despite being gifted with such fame and talent, he has this negative reputation. The reputation of being heartless. Never in his life did he care for anyone.

Business is business. That’s what he says, and is nothing more.

He didn’t care. You’d see him sympathetically comforting a patient, like the patient he previously met, but his feelings aren’t true. There will be no way he’d actually care genuinely to just anyone, knowing they too, didn’t. 

However. This wasn't the only case he was facing at the moment. 

"It's him."

"The nerve of him."

"Such a maniac."

"Psycho."

The words whispered from patient to patient, staff to staff, doctor to doctor. Though one may have fainted from the endless rhythmic chant they'd utter continuously, Dr. Sans did nothing else but to walk on. 

This was the present day. 

And like before, he did not change. At all. Nothing in his life did. Well… Except for these remarks he kept receiving day by day. 

On the inside however, he knew better than anyone that they were all harmonically agreeable. They were right. 

He was a psycho. 

"Scalpel." 

A steel sharpened blade was handed over. 

"Tweezers."

A tong-like clip was given. 

"Pressure."

A force, a push was implemented. 

Beepbeepbeepbeep-

He tried. He tried all he could to keep a sweat, or just a hint of anxiety to let out as he worked on his beloved. 

Beepbeepbeepbeep-

He did not like this. He did not want to do this at all. He doesn't want to hurt her. He couldn't bear to see her like this. It wasn't supposed to be this way. 

Beepbeepbeepbeep-

If only… 

Beepbeepbeepbeep-

If only he would've found a way to heal her earlier… 

Beepbeepbeepbeep-

Then… 

Beepbeepbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

Both of them wouldn't be on this faithful day. 

"Sans." Dr. John called out in worry, trying to catch his attention, who was still 'busy' at 'work'. But on what? On a corpse? 

"Sans." he tried once more but to no avail, so began shaking him forcefully. 

"Sans!" he yelled in a frightened scream, matching the dreaded constant straight beep, as well as the much terrorizing sight of the straight neon green line, visible on the supposed patient's vitality monitor. 

"SANS!" he had enough. He pushed the surgeon away from the body in such great force, the skeleton almost tripped from the strength. He gazed at John in a horrifying blank stare, before transferring it back to Frisk. He was struggling.

He stood up straight, wobbling as he tried to go near, only to be blocked and held back by his fellow surgeons. 

"I-I… I need to… H-heal her… I must-" 

"No, Sans! We've done enough!" 

"NO!" he yelled, struggling to escape from their tight grip as he screamed, "I had to! I need to! I want her back! I got to work harder! Please!!" 

"Sans!" 

"Move the frick outta the way, John!?" 

"Stop this!?" 

"You shut up, fricktard! Get outta the way! I need Fri-" 

"FRISK IS GONE!" Dr. Philips finally thundered, his tone shaky, yet firm. He began looking away from the shakened skeleton, he himself not able to accept reality. 

"No." Sans protested once more, as his pinpricks followed the blonde human, who tremblingly approached him. He patted the great surgeon's shoulder in great remorse, regretful of his words. 

"Frisk… Frisk is dead, Sans." 

… 

… 

… 

Those words came out as water spilling against his smooth ivory visage, awakening him to the world he was in. The world he despised. And as deafening and blindening as it is, it was no more than the mere truth. 

And there he layed his eyes upon a dead Frisk, who almost looked to be peacefully enjoying her eternal slumber, her signature smile adorning her soft fairly-pale complexion. 

He slowly walked towards her, without the doctors holding him back this time, for he knew of his mourned intentions. As he strode to his love, shall he not notice the care he had kept so well in his soul to flow gently as trickles of saline translucent liquid from his empty eyesockets down his ached ivory cheeks. 

He kneeled beside her, weeping softly as he brushed off brownish locks from her face, tucking it all behind her left ear. He did not care of his disposable mask to be damp with his own tears. He cared of hoping she'd feel it, how his tears finally fell, at long last. 

"I-I'm sorry… Frisk… I'm sorry. Frisk, no… Please, Frisk? You g-got to… You need to w-wake up." he whimpered mindlessly, his thoughts clouded with nothing but the sweet memories of the brunette in front of him, at the times he could still hear her laughter, feel her warmth, and see her… Smile.

That's it. 

He's done. 

The nerve has snapped. 

"I'm t-____" he whispered inaudibly. 

"What? Sans, we can't hear you." 

"I'm taking her with me." 

The whole ER was astounded. Never had they ever sense of him emitting such care, such determination, such… Immaturity.

"You can't be serious!" one of them yelled in disbelief. Everyone stared at the surgeon in terror of what he has become. But to Sans, however, he simply stood up, bravely firm with his diction. 

"Tell me when was the last time I was not serious?" he coldly asked, well, more like a bark, demanding sternly for an answer. 

"This is just imprudent! A disgrace! You truly are already out of yo-" 

"I say he should." a much chiller voice sprang, directing all heads turned to a certain important slender skeleton at the door, his fingers pushing to adjust his rectangular thin-brimmed eyeglasses, giving out a flash of light. 

His day ended with a groan of exhaustion. Today was a busy day, and he was anxious to call it a day immediately, aching to drive in his Lamborghini, and into his luxurious modern white mansion. 

After dismissing Nurse Sheena, he quickly stood up, took off his neat white coat, grabbed his leather suitcase, and out of the office he went. The halls were unusually lacking people, and it was only a bright afternoon, but he was too vigorous to care about wondering of its questioning cause. All he could think of was to be out of the hospital, and to his so-called home, probably find a drink in his refrigerator or something. 

Arriving to the doorsteps of his humongous villa, he hastily entered the house, and ran for the basement. 

Eh? The basement you ask? 

Why yes. 

Fulfilling to finish down the flight of marble encased glass staircase, his black-leather shoe-covered feet touched down to the lowest point of his household, giving out sounds of soft yet hurried steps. The wall in front of him, parted the said area from the halls of the stairs, to an unidentified enclosure, he was yet to proceed. 

A glass door at the centre of the said barrier seemed to be the only way out and in of the facility, so therefore, he went in through it, obviously. 

Now as we follow along with the doctor in subject, we take a moment to indulge our surroundings with observation. What is this place? 

The whole room was enclosed in specially crafted fiberglass walls, monitors of sorts are visible around the area, their wirings all scattered messily across the floor, one would definitely predict a trip if not careful. The screens, showing various data, information and… Vitality? 

But for whom? 

Metal trays, as well as metallic and steel materialized tools are found lying on a marble table, but as we look on at the very centre of the room, however, something stands out. 

A hospital bed. 

And a person was on it. 

She, dressed in a dainty flowing white dress, her mid-back length chestnut brown locks spread throughout the white pillow her head was laid on. Her pale-toned complexion was brilliantly decorated by the faded pink smile on her soft lips, and her eyes gently closed shut, masking her orbs from the outside world as she drifted eternally in her slumber. 

He stood right next to her, bending down to place a soft kiss on top of her cold forehead, a smile creeping its way unto his permanent grin, still not noticing that as he did so, came saline droplets trickling down his ivory cheeks. 

He let out an exhaling blow, as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

"Just a little more, my dearest."

Right after, he strode back to the long marble working table to continue mustering up an impossible ambition. 

It took him several trials, and pain trying to reach this achievement, however, he had a feeling, no, he knew on this day… At least, he had progress. 

_________________________________________

"Oh no! I'm fricking late!" I exclaimed in panic, scrambling back to my feet as soon as we managed to finish tidying the place up. 

"I shall escort you." Nurse Sheena offered, straightening up as well, "I'm to proceed in Patient #25's ward anyways."

We hurriedly walked, or rather, ran through the halls, passing by patients and staff of sorts, ignoring their looks of bewilderment and curiosity. All I could think of right now, are the possible punishments I'd receive later on if I arrive even a second late. 

The Snowdin Hall today was filled with various personalities, considering the fact that only the rich could afford being confined here, unlike before when I heard of the place being abandoned, only for the critical to settle in. 

Thankfully, it seemed that my luck today did not think this day would be its last, for as we arrived for me to notice that I was actually five minutes early. 

We stood in front of the double wooden golden vine-engraved door, signifying the importance of whoever was settled inside. Ward #25 was after all, the highest of all wards in this very hospital. Its cause, I wondered. 

As I combed my carrot-orange hair with my free hand, for the latter busily grasped on my corkboard tightly, the nurse I had met earlier opened the door for me, leading me inside. 

I couldn't get a better look of what was inside as I entered, for my head hung low in respect, not daring to look back on the patient, even though I was her doctor. But even so, I knew the room being elegantly lit by a golden chandelier, walls painted to shades of grey and cream, and the glass windows reaching from the ceiling down to the floor, all adorned with mocha brown curtains. At the center end of it all, was the regal-looking hospital bed. 

Sadly, I could only see the white blankets, covering my patient's leg area, and my eyes away from her awaiting face. 

I coughed a little to shake off my anxiety, as I tremblingly held up to read my corkboard and begin my appointment. 

"Good morning, Ms… Er…" I panicked, forgetting my patient's name, as I frantically flipped through the pages in search of identification, "Gaster?" I uttered, a bit shocked. Did Dr. Gaster had a daughter? 

"To you too, Dr. Roberts." her voice chirped, sliding gracefully as silk and honey, and even if I couldn't see, somehow her tone held up a cheery smile, causing me to grin in equality. 

Her voice was sweet and welcoming, which managed to boost my confidence, since my shaking stopped, and was able to talk freely as I please. 

"Alright, Ms. Gaster. As you may already know, I am Dr. Julien Roberts, your doctor. Are you ready for your checkup?" 

"Yes."

"Okay. This'll be quick. Is it okay for me to ask you some questions?" 

"It is fine."

"First and foremost, would you care to tell me of your condition? Were there any difficulties in breathing perhaps?" 

"No." she rang firmly, but due to the story I heard of Ms. Mercy, it affected me so much, that I did not hesitate to return her a; "Ms. Gaster. Please answer my questions honestly. I am very sorry, but I would like to make sure. After all, I am your doctor. It is my duty to serve and know whatever is wrong."

A pause drifted between us, making me feel very uneasy. Was I not supposed to say that? 

"I'm sorry, Dr. Roberts." she finally apologized, "I guess I was nervous."

"That is alright. I understand you."

"Well… It does feel a bit hard for me to breathe at times, whenever I bend to pick something up, that is. A bit of chest pain for several seconds, and nothing more." 

"Anything else?" 

"I believe not."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Gaster." I said, closing my board to mark my dismissal, but not until a hand was placed on my left shoulder, patting me a few times. 

My gaze slowly wandered to look at the hand that held me and was surprised to see a phalange instead, a black leather wristwatch wrapped around it, and a silver engagement band placed on his ring finger. I guessed it to be Dr. Gaster, but that'll be really scary, and unlikely. Adding to that, I was a true fanboy, and I knew more than anyone else that Dr. Gaster's hand was hollow. 

This, however, is complete, which means… 

Oh. My. Goodness. 

"I see you doing a great job in working on my fiancée, eh, Dr. Roberts?" his voice tho cold, strangely, I felt hints of warmth. His tone was maturely, likewise, sophisticatedly deep, but held a sense of joy and immaturity. 

I, myself as a lung doctor, ironically tried to catch my breath as I stammered, "T-thank you, Dr. Sans. I'm truly honored to hear s-such things from Y-you…" 

On the inside, I was internally screaming, my stomach doing all sorts of acrobatic movements, as I effortly tried to hold myself from daring to hug him and squeal. Ahem, I ain't a gay, mind you. 

I could hear him let out a deep chuckle, as he used his hand to make me turn about. And there he was, the brilliant Dr. Sans Gaster, right in front of me. He wasn't wearing his white doctor's coat, nor was he wearing his rectangular thin-brimmed eyeglasses like the one I saw him wearing in magazines. 

He was only wearing a navy blue turtleneck shirt and a pair of denim white jeans, his other hand tucked inside his pocket. From what I guessed, he must be on a day-off. Even with the civilian look, however, he was as charming and sophisticated just the way he was. 

"What's wrong, kid? Did I rattle your bones?" he joked, causing me to laugh nervously. 

"No, sir." I smiled, "It's just I'm a huge fan."

"Oh, is that so? I just happen to have this with me." he punned once more, holding out his black fountain pen, "Ya got something you'd like me to sign on?" 

Did he just pun?? 

And here I thought this very surgeon struck fear and power into the hearts of those who came across him, only for me to stand right in front of him, who was complimenting me, making horrible puns, willing to give me an autograph and… Gave me a genuine smile. Oh wow, I must be dreaming because there's absolutely no way a person could receive this much luck. 

But the way I see him act like this, I couldn't help but feel pity for Ms. Frisk. I've heard of their story, it was truly heartbreaking. I guess he forgot about her and moved on. Whoever he was engaged to, this person I consider as my first patient, must be really nice and bright to give this cold-hearted man a chance to see the missing light again. 

Because of this thought, I unintentionally frowned, catching him off guard. 

"What? You don't have anything…?" he asked, unsure. 

I failed my hands nervously in defense after realizing what I did, "N-no! That's fine! I, uh…" I was embarrassed beyond repair. 

"Sans. You're scaring him." Ms. Gaster scolded her soon-to-be husband in a gentle and calm manner. 

"Heh. Sorry." Sans apologized, "Everyone seems to be scared of me all the time, almost automatically. I wonder why, though?" 

"Your strictness that's why." she giggled, "And your tone. Try to lower it down a little to a much friendlier one…?" 

"Yeah. I guess you're right." he said, embarrassed, turning back to gaze at me. At the moment, my head still hung low, not wanting to disrespect him and the patient. 

"What's with the glum face, pal?" he chuckled at my gesture, "Chin up! For now, I'm only a random person, and she is your patient."

"Yes. Why won't you look at us, Dr. Roberts?" she giggled in a friendly tone. 

I guess that's the go signal then. 

"I must be really nervous." I laughed half-heartedly, looking towards the direction of my pa-

"You looked like you just saw a ghost, bud." the skeleton beside me grinned. 

"Is something wrong, Dr. Roberts?" Ms. Gaster asked, her worried orbs glinting unto me. 

"... Nothing." I answered, my smile growing in jolly lengths. 

_________________________________________

Another day, another ache. 

After taking off his coat, and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his polo, he groaned like always, rubbing the back of his collarbone as he turned the metallic doorknob to open, and let himself in the glass facility. He recalled giving his darling a serum, which he assumed to be, yet, another failure down the drain. 

Not giving any effort to observe his surroundings, he went to his work station to grip on his notes. The table was visibly messy, crumpled paper is scattered everywhere, as well as tools and dust. 

What could be wrong? He asked himself, scanning through layers and layers of scribbled formulas. 

In frustration, he rolled the said notes furiously down to the table, slamming his fists as he did. He wrathfully whipped his head towards the hospital bed in hopes of calming his nerves by the sight of his beloved, but… 

Where's the body?! 

Panic streamed fast throughout his skeletal foundation, his hand and pinpricks shaking in terror, his mind and soul racing against each other, determining who'd be the first to send his whole being pounding. 

For a moment, he was in a daze, but his conscience slapped him back to reality, adrenaline injected through his magical veins as he ran, searching every nook and corner of his ginormous house, he regretted having in the first place. 

The living room. 

"Frisk?" 

The kitchen. 

"F-frisk?" 

The bathrooms. (uh…😑) 

"FRISK?" 

The dining area. 

"Where are you?" 

The gardens. 

"Frisk, please…" 

The garage. 

"Let me see you…" 

The bedrooms. 

"Did you leave me already?" 

… 

"..." 

Nowhere. She was nowhere to be seen. But why was he even looking for her? Did he really expect for somebody dead to go having a little stroll around his home? 

But what happened to her? The haunting question went on… 

Did someone take her? 

Did anyone break in? 

Or worse; did her soul dissipate without notice? 

The latter made him shudder, causing him to sense his terrified blood to reach up his skull. Predicting a stressed headache, he collapsed to his navy blue draped king-sized bed. 

As he tried to recollect things and arrange them in positions he knew to place, his tired white gaze followed the flow of the white curtain that served to separate his room from the balcony he had outside the glass paneled sliding doors. What he was astonished with, was the fact that it was open, so as he strode, and slowly pushed to unravel the curtains with trembling hands, he almost stumbled from the sight. 

His pearl white pinpricks disappeared to the vast black nothingness his eye sockets beheld, as tears came trailing down once more, along with his eternal smile wavering to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat. 

Slowly, he took short jittering, but quiet steps towards the terrace. His first instinct was to slip his arms around the waist of the woman in front of him, resting his skull on her petite figure, more particularly, her shoulder. 

He sighed, as well she did, smelling the sweet scent of cinnamon present on her long chestnut brown hair. He could only view the side position of her fairly pale-toned complexion, the sun set's rays dancing to glitter on her glistening honey-glazed golden irises, which also reflected a golden glint on her own locks. A satisfied smile was visible on her soft pink lips as she and the skeleton watched the sun's motion to the horizon before them. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" her voice, though unused, was low, but calm and soft. 

"Yes, my dear. Yes it is…" 

I guess the serum did work. He chuckled inwardly. 

… 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/n: Hi. 

Wait, wait, before you react, I just wanted to list the reasons why I think this is horrible as frick;

1 Disorganized and rushed, I know. It's my problem now. ;w;

2 Not fransified enough. 

3 When I wrote this in the first place, believe me when I say, even I think that it would've been the best oneshot I have ever written, due to the noticeable depth. I even managed to feature a ship between Dr. Roberts and Nurse Sheena, but now? This sucked. 

4 It didn't make any sense. T~T

I can't say more, sorry. I'm too depressed and disappointed to talk right now. 

Also, I had a feeling this oneshot was meant to be rewritten four times, a curse, why? 

Please… Heal Her! I was never rewritten. 
Please… Heal Her! II was rewritten twice. 
Please… Heal Her! III was rewritten thrice. 

Guess what the real name of this oneshot? What?? You still don't know? Oh come on, it's right under your noses! ;w;

Anyways, I hope you like this oneshot, I'm sorry if you didn't, and I'll see you pinksterz💕 in the next chapter! Bye. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Description: My Name Is Sans II

Level 2: Unlocked

Strayed away from his family in a young age, the skeleton struggled to survive in finding his home, and his identity... with the help of a young human girl.

Did you just say something? I can't hear you! >:3