The Smile Has Left Your Eyes 9/9
Previous | Master Post
Epilogue
The Perfect Blendship
“No weapons, and no magic,” Sam stipulated as Asgore shushed the crowd that had gathered at the East Ebott Park early Sunday afternoon.
“No holds barred,” Undyne countered.
“IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIENDLY MATCH, UNDYNE!” Papyrus, who was serving as referee, objected.
“I’ll keep it friendly! I just want to show off!”
Sam coughed. “Actually, that might level the playing field a bit.”
Undyne laughed. “Sure, ’cause you’ll need every advantage to fight me!”
“ALL RIGHT,” said Papyrus. “THREE FALLS OR TWENTY POINTS. READY?”
Sam took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his thighs, and offered one to Undyne, who grinned ferociously and shook hands with more force than necessary. Dean, sitting on a bench on the sidelines, winced.
“ANNND... GO!”
The crowd roared as Undyne lunged at Sam, who ducked and caught her in the midriff with his shoulder. She in turn caught the tail of his jacket, but he twisted out of it, stumbling as he did so. Again she grabbed for him, and again he just barely dodged out of the way. His movements seemed graceless and gawky, and most of the monsters jeered and hooted as he slipped on the snow and had to roll quickly before Undyne could pounce on him.
Dean chose the insults he shouted very carefully. He knew exactly what Sam was up to.
The temperature next to Dean suddenly rose, announcing Grillby’s approach. But Dean was surprised to hear a quiet, deep voice like the soft roar of a stirred fire call his name.
“Hey, Grillby,” Dean replied, looking up at the restaurateur.
“Your friend,” Grillby said. “Tell him to come.”
“Okay. Thanks. He’ll be driving an old grey and white pickup with a shell on the back. About my height, blue eyes, got some grey in his beard. Probably wearing a blue hat and coat.”
Grillby nodded. “We’ll watch for him.”
“Thanks, man. Seriously.”
Grillby nodded again and walked away.
Dean glanced back out at the wrestling match just in time to see Sam pull Undyne off balance but not take her down for more than a second. Then Dean slid his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed a number he’d intended never to call again.
Benny answered on the first ring. “Dean!” Dean could almost hear the relieved smile in his whiskey-rough Louisiana drawl. “Hey, brother!”
“Hey, Benny,” Dean replied, smiling in spite of himself. “How you been?”
“Oh, y’know. I get by.”
“Where are you?”
“Uh, Pittsburgh.”
“You workin’?”
“No, why?”
“Got a job for you.”
“A-a job?”
“Yeah, restaurant. Guy said he could use someone with experience. And it’s so far off the grid, it ain’t even funny.”
Benny started his truck. “Man, that’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
“Wait, wait, Benny, lemme give you the directions first. You got a map?”
“Yeah, hold on.” Dean heard a slight noise that might have been the glove compartment opening and closing, followed by the rustle of paper. “Awright, shoot.”
“You’re headed to Ebott, Idaho. It’s near Salmon, eastern part of the state.”
Benny muttered under his breath for a moment. “Found it.”
“Which direction you comin’ into town?”
“Nnnorth.”
“Okay. Come straight into town on 93. When you get to Mine Road, turn left.”
More muttering that sounded like it was around a pen cap. “Writin’ this on my hand,” Benny confessed after a moment. “Left on Mine Road. G’won.”
“Keep goin’ straight past the edge of town and up the mountain. You won’t be able to see this place until you’re almost on top of it.”
A pause, and Benny sounded a little suspicious when he said, “Awright.”
“When you pass a sign that says ‘Welcome to East Ebott,’ slow down but keep drivin’. You’re almost there.”
“O-kay. ‘Welcome... to East Ebott.’ Next.”
“You’re lookin’ for Grillby’s Bar and Grill. It’ll be about another half mile on that same road, on the left side of the street. Won’t be any cars around, so you can park anywhere.”
“Grillby’s Bar an’ Grill. Got it.”
“And if a bathtub called Woshua asks to wash your truck, let him.”
Benny snorted and started folding up the map. “Right.”
“Listen, Benny... there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you about this place.”
“Shoot.”
“The owner, Grillby?”
“What about ’im?” The glove compartment opened and closed.
“He’s a fire elemental.”
Three, two, one.... “He’s what?”
“You heard me.”
“Come on.”
“Straight stuff. Whole town full o’ monsters. But it ain’t like Purgatory, dude. They don’t eat people. From what I hear, the food’s made with magic, absorbs straight into the bloodstream, no matter the species.”
“Wait, so... so you think I... I might could....”
“Eat like a human. Yeah.”
There was a ka-chunk as Benny put his truck in gear. “I hope so. Dear Lord, I hope so.”
Dean blinked. “You okay, man?”
“No, not really.” Road noise picked up in the background. “Got enough blood bags to get me there, but... I ain’t gonn’ lie to you, Dean. Been thinkin’ ’bout Purgatory a whole hell of a lot. Not enough to do anythin’ stupid,” Benny added before Dean could ask. “It ain’t been easy, but I’m keepin’ my nose clean, like I promised. But I don’t fit anymore. Not with humans, and sure as hell not with vampires.”
“I hear you, dude. But this bunch... hell, some of ’em are better’n most humans I’ve known,” Dean admitted, shooting a smile at Sans, who’d just sat down beside him. “I think you’ll fit here.”
Benny sighed. “Well, even if I don’t... it’s worth a try. Thanks, brother.”
“Take care, Benny.” Dean hung up just as Undyne threw Sam headlong into a snowbank. “Now watch this,” he told Sans. “Five, four, three, two, one....”
And Undyne, who had run up to pin Sam, found herself flying backward as he vaulted out of the snow, kicking her in the solar plexus with both feet. He landed on her chest and held her down while Papyrus counted two, then let her up and bobbed and weaved with far more grace than before while she stumbled after him. When she got close enough for him to grab her arm and get one leg behind hers, he pulled her down with a judo throw and pinned her again. She pulled his legs out from under him when he let her up, but he hooked his feet under her armpits and flung her into the same snowdrift she’d thrown him into, then sat on her back and pinned her a third time.
“SAM WINS! SAM WINS!” Papyrus crowed over the varied reactions of the crowd. “WOWIE, THAT WAS AMAZING!”
Dean whooped. “YEAH! Way to go, Sammy!”
Sam stepped back, and Undyne got up, spluttering. “No fair!” she yelled. “I had eighteen points!”
“That was totally fair,” Sam countered. “You’re the one who said no holds barred. Besides, you’re cold-blooded; I just wanted to give you a chance to warm up.”
“yeah,” Sans chimed in. “pretty ice of him, huh?”
Undyne threw a snowball at Sans. It missed. Laughing, Dean pulled two bottles of water out of the snow next to their bench and tossed them to Sam, who handed one to Undyne; she grimaced and accepted it. Then Mettaton, who really was glam metal personified, rushed out of the crowd with microphone in hand and camera-cat in tow to interview the contestants, and Undyne threatened to turn him into scrap if he asked her any stupid questions.
“so how long until we can paint?” Sans asked Dean.
“As cold as it is,” Dean replied, “better let the joint compound set one more day before you try to sand it. If it smears, let it cure another day or two. Once the mud’s dry enough to sand, though, use primer first and then paint after that dries.”
“gotcha. you planning to stay until benny gets here?”
Dean shook his head. “Nah, better not. Sam still wants to kill him.” Ignoring Sans’ odd look, he added, “Besides, it’s gonna take him a couple of days, even driving straight through, and if we stay too much longer, Hennessy’s liable to break down and tell his folks we’re hunters and not FBI.”
“yeah, no sense in wearing out your welcome. if you guys ever come back, though, there’ll be pillows in the loft with your names on ’em. literally, if i know papyrus.”
Dean chuckled. “You guys are always welcome at our place, too. Just call first to make sure we’re there. Kevin’s kinda jumpy; you drop in unannounced, he might shoot you.”
“what, won’t he already know we’re coming?”
“Kid’s a prophet, not a psychic. ’Course, that’s probably a good thing-otherwise, whenever he ran off, we’d have a small medium at large.”
Sans cracked up.
“Speaking of which, has your dad spilled anything else we need to know about?”
“nah, not yet. but we’ll call if he does.”
“Awesome. Thanks. But y’know, don’t feel like you need an excuse to come visit. You wanna use the library or, hell, even just come over for pizza and movies, that’s fine.”
“we might do that. thanks.”
“When you... take a shortcut, can you use coordinates?”
“not if i’ve never been there before. if your car’s there, that might not matter. but tibia-nest, i have no idea whether i can jump that far. planning to get paps a car for his birthday, though, so if it has gps, we can use that.”
“All right, here.” Dean pulled one of his fake FBI business cards out of his jacket pocket and wrote the bunker’s coordinates on the back. “GPS’ll probably conk out on you about a mile out, but when it does, call and we’ll give you directions.”
Sans nodded, accepted the card, and tucked it into one of his own pockets.
Mettaton turned to interview Papyrus, which quickly turned to mutual gushing, and Sam made his escape. “How was that?” he asked as he walked up to the bench.
“You coulda caught her with a right hook,” Dean deadpanned.
“nice job baiting her, though,” Sans added.
“Indeed so,” said Toriel, bringing Frisk over to join them. “It seems she fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“You are all horrible,” Sam declared.
Frisk giggled, and the adults laughed.
“Thank you for agreeing to spar with Undyne,” Toriel told Sam. “It may not seem like it now, but I believe that has cemented her respect for you, even more so than your kindness to Papyrus, Alphys, and Frisk.”
“Hey, no problem,” Sam replied and accepted his jacket from Alphys, who had retrieved it for him. “I’m just glad nothing got bruised but her pride.”
“That’ll heal by the t-time we s-see you again,” Alphys stated with a bashful smile. “Wh-when will that b-be, by the way?”
“Can’t make any promises,” Dean answered as he stood. “But we’ll keep in touch. Got people here who care about us,” he added, looking at Frisk.
Frisk smiled and nodded emphatically.
Papyrus rushed over at that point. “ARE YOU GUYS LEAVING ALREADY?”
“Yeah, ’fraid so, dude. Wanna try to make it up to Whitefish before dark.”
“OH. WELL, DRIVE SAFELY, AND FEEL FREE TO CALL ME ANYTIME YOU WANT TO! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS AVAILABLE TO CHAT WITH FRIENDS! NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!”
“Same to you, man,” said Sam, and after a round of shaking hands/paws and trading one-handed I love you signs with Frisk, the brothers headed back to the Impala.
“Kinda hate to leave,” Dean confessed as they got in.
“Know what you mean,” Sam agreed. “You did give Sans the bunker coordinates?”
“Yeah, and told him to call ahead. But he said they’d probably drive.”
“Good idea. No sense risking a teleport accident like what happened with Henry. We don’t want Kevin to wake up and discover there’s skeletons in his closet.”
Dean looked at Sam. Sam grinned at Dean. Dean slugged Sam’s shoulder, laughed, and started the engine.
Epilogue
The Perfect Blendship
“No weapons, and no magic,” Sam stipulated as Asgore shushed the crowd that had gathered at the East Ebott Park early Sunday afternoon.
“No holds barred,” Undyne countered.
“IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIENDLY MATCH, UNDYNE!” Papyrus, who was serving as referee, objected.
“I’ll keep it friendly! I just want to show off!”
Sam coughed. “Actually, that might level the playing field a bit.”
Undyne laughed. “Sure, ’cause you’ll need every advantage to fight me!”
“ALL RIGHT,” said Papyrus. “THREE FALLS OR TWENTY POINTS. READY?”
Sam took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his thighs, and offered one to Undyne, who grinned ferociously and shook hands with more force than necessary. Dean, sitting on a bench on the sidelines, winced.
“ANNND... GO!”
The crowd roared as Undyne lunged at Sam, who ducked and caught her in the midriff with his shoulder. She in turn caught the tail of his jacket, but he twisted out of it, stumbling as he did so. Again she grabbed for him, and again he just barely dodged out of the way. His movements seemed graceless and gawky, and most of the monsters jeered and hooted as he slipped on the snow and had to roll quickly before Undyne could pounce on him.
Dean chose the insults he shouted very carefully. He knew exactly what Sam was up to.
The temperature next to Dean suddenly rose, announcing Grillby’s approach. But Dean was surprised to hear a quiet, deep voice like the soft roar of a stirred fire call his name.
“Hey, Grillby,” Dean replied, looking up at the restaurateur.
“Your friend,” Grillby said. “Tell him to come.”
“Okay. Thanks. He’ll be driving an old grey and white pickup with a shell on the back. About my height, blue eyes, got some grey in his beard. Probably wearing a blue hat and coat.”
Grillby nodded. “We’ll watch for him.”
“Thanks, man. Seriously.”
Grillby nodded again and walked away.
Dean glanced back out at the wrestling match just in time to see Sam pull Undyne off balance but not take her down for more than a second. Then Dean slid his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed a number he’d intended never to call again.
Benny answered on the first ring. “Dean!” Dean could almost hear the relieved smile in his whiskey-rough Louisiana drawl. “Hey, brother!”
“Hey, Benny,” Dean replied, smiling in spite of himself. “How you been?”
“Oh, y’know. I get by.”
“Where are you?”
“Uh, Pittsburgh.”
“You workin’?”
“No, why?”
“Got a job for you.”
“A-a job?”
“Yeah, restaurant. Guy said he could use someone with experience. And it’s so far off the grid, it ain’t even funny.”
Benny started his truck. “Man, that’s the best news I’ve had all day.”
“Wait, wait, Benny, lemme give you the directions first. You got a map?”
“Yeah, hold on.” Dean heard a slight noise that might have been the glove compartment opening and closing, followed by the rustle of paper. “Awright, shoot.”
“You’re headed to Ebott, Idaho. It’s near Salmon, eastern part of the state.”
Benny muttered under his breath for a moment. “Found it.”
“Which direction you comin’ into town?”
“Nnnorth.”
“Okay. Come straight into town on 93. When you get to Mine Road, turn left.”
More muttering that sounded like it was around a pen cap. “Writin’ this on my hand,” Benny confessed after a moment. “Left on Mine Road. G’won.”
“Keep goin’ straight past the edge of town and up the mountain. You won’t be able to see this place until you’re almost on top of it.”
A pause, and Benny sounded a little suspicious when he said, “Awright.”
“When you pass a sign that says ‘Welcome to East Ebott,’ slow down but keep drivin’. You’re almost there.”
“O-kay. ‘Welcome... to East Ebott.’ Next.”
“You’re lookin’ for Grillby’s Bar and Grill. It’ll be about another half mile on that same road, on the left side of the street. Won’t be any cars around, so you can park anywhere.”
“Grillby’s Bar an’ Grill. Got it.”
“And if a bathtub called Woshua asks to wash your truck, let him.”
Benny snorted and started folding up the map. “Right.”
“Listen, Benny... there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you about this place.”
“Shoot.”
“The owner, Grillby?”
“What about ’im?” The glove compartment opened and closed.
“He’s a fire elemental.”
Three, two, one.... “He’s what?”
“You heard me.”
“Come on.”
“Straight stuff. Whole town full o’ monsters. But it ain’t like Purgatory, dude. They don’t eat people. From what I hear, the food’s made with magic, absorbs straight into the bloodstream, no matter the species.”
“Wait, so... so you think I... I might could....”
“Eat like a human. Yeah.”
There was a ka-chunk as Benny put his truck in gear. “I hope so. Dear Lord, I hope so.”
Dean blinked. “You okay, man?”
“No, not really.” Road noise picked up in the background. “Got enough blood bags to get me there, but... I ain’t gonn’ lie to you, Dean. Been thinkin’ ’bout Purgatory a whole hell of a lot. Not enough to do anythin’ stupid,” Benny added before Dean could ask. “It ain’t been easy, but I’m keepin’ my nose clean, like I promised. But I don’t fit anymore. Not with humans, and sure as hell not with vampires.”
“I hear you, dude. But this bunch... hell, some of ’em are better’n most humans I’ve known,” Dean admitted, shooting a smile at Sans, who’d just sat down beside him. “I think you’ll fit here.”
Benny sighed. “Well, even if I don’t... it’s worth a try. Thanks, brother.”
“Take care, Benny.” Dean hung up just as Undyne threw Sam headlong into a snowbank. “Now watch this,” he told Sans. “Five, four, three, two, one....”
And Undyne, who had run up to pin Sam, found herself flying backward as he vaulted out of the snow, kicking her in the solar plexus with both feet. He landed on her chest and held her down while Papyrus counted two, then let her up and bobbed and weaved with far more grace than before while she stumbled after him. When she got close enough for him to grab her arm and get one leg behind hers, he pulled her down with a judo throw and pinned her again. She pulled his legs out from under him when he let her up, but he hooked his feet under her armpits and flung her into the same snowdrift she’d thrown him into, then sat on her back and pinned her a third time.
“SAM WINS! SAM WINS!” Papyrus crowed over the varied reactions of the crowd. “WOWIE, THAT WAS AMAZING!”
Dean whooped. “YEAH! Way to go, Sammy!”
Sam stepped back, and Undyne got up, spluttering. “No fair!” she yelled. “I had eighteen points!”
“That was totally fair,” Sam countered. “You’re the one who said no holds barred. Besides, you’re cold-blooded; I just wanted to give you a chance to warm up.”
“yeah,” Sans chimed in. “pretty ice of him, huh?”
Undyne threw a snowball at Sans. It missed. Laughing, Dean pulled two bottles of water out of the snow next to their bench and tossed them to Sam, who handed one to Undyne; she grimaced and accepted it. Then Mettaton, who really was glam metal personified, rushed out of the crowd with microphone in hand and camera-cat in tow to interview the contestants, and Undyne threatened to turn him into scrap if he asked her any stupid questions.
“so how long until we can paint?” Sans asked Dean.
“As cold as it is,” Dean replied, “better let the joint compound set one more day before you try to sand it. If it smears, let it cure another day or two. Once the mud’s dry enough to sand, though, use primer first and then paint after that dries.”
“gotcha. you planning to stay until benny gets here?”
Dean shook his head. “Nah, better not. Sam still wants to kill him.” Ignoring Sans’ odd look, he added, “Besides, it’s gonna take him a couple of days, even driving straight through, and if we stay too much longer, Hennessy’s liable to break down and tell his folks we’re hunters and not FBI.”
“yeah, no sense in wearing out your welcome. if you guys ever come back, though, there’ll be pillows in the loft with your names on ’em. literally, if i know papyrus.”
Dean chuckled. “You guys are always welcome at our place, too. Just call first to make sure we’re there. Kevin’s kinda jumpy; you drop in unannounced, he might shoot you.”
“what, won’t he already know we’re coming?”
“Kid’s a prophet, not a psychic. ’Course, that’s probably a good thing-otherwise, whenever he ran off, we’d have a small medium at large.”
Sans cracked up.
“Speaking of which, has your dad spilled anything else we need to know about?”
“nah, not yet. but we’ll call if he does.”
“Awesome. Thanks. But y’know, don’t feel like you need an excuse to come visit. You wanna use the library or, hell, even just come over for pizza and movies, that’s fine.”
“we might do that. thanks.”
“When you... take a shortcut, can you use coordinates?”
“not if i’ve never been there before. if your car’s there, that might not matter. but tibia-nest, i have no idea whether i can jump that far. planning to get paps a car for his birthday, though, so if it has gps, we can use that.”
“All right, here.” Dean pulled one of his fake FBI business cards out of his jacket pocket and wrote the bunker’s coordinates on the back. “GPS’ll probably conk out on you about a mile out, but when it does, call and we’ll give you directions.”
Sans nodded, accepted the card, and tucked it into one of his own pockets.
Mettaton turned to interview Papyrus, which quickly turned to mutual gushing, and Sam made his escape. “How was that?” he asked as he walked up to the bench.
“You coulda caught her with a right hook,” Dean deadpanned.
“nice job baiting her, though,” Sans added.
“Indeed so,” said Toriel, bringing Frisk over to join them. “It seems she fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“You are all horrible,” Sam declared.
Frisk giggled, and the adults laughed.
“Thank you for agreeing to spar with Undyne,” Toriel told Sam. “It may not seem like it now, but I believe that has cemented her respect for you, even more so than your kindness to Papyrus, Alphys, and Frisk.”
“Hey, no problem,” Sam replied and accepted his jacket from Alphys, who had retrieved it for him. “I’m just glad nothing got bruised but her pride.”
“That’ll heal by the t-time we s-see you again,” Alphys stated with a bashful smile. “Wh-when will that b-be, by the way?”
“Can’t make any promises,” Dean answered as he stood. “But we’ll keep in touch. Got people here who care about us,” he added, looking at Frisk.
Frisk smiled and nodded emphatically.
Papyrus rushed over at that point. “ARE YOU GUYS LEAVING ALREADY?”
“Yeah, ’fraid so, dude. Wanna try to make it up to Whitefish before dark.”
“OH. WELL, DRIVE SAFELY, AND FEEL FREE TO CALL ME ANYTIME YOU WANT TO! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS AVAILABLE TO CHAT WITH FRIENDS! NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!”
“Same to you, man,” said Sam, and after a round of shaking hands/paws and trading one-handed I love you signs with Frisk, the brothers headed back to the Impala.
“Kinda hate to leave,” Dean confessed as they got in.
“Know what you mean,” Sam agreed. “You did give Sans the bunker coordinates?”
“Yeah, and told him to call ahead. But he said they’d probably drive.”
“Good idea. No sense risking a teleport accident like what happened with Henry. We don’t want Kevin to wake up and discover there’s skeletons in his closet.”
Dean looked at Sam. Sam grinned at Dean. Dean slugged Sam’s shoulder, laughed, and started the engine.