Prompt from ichiwashername-o
In which a few years after Trust, Grillby learns a lesson about the kids.
Grillby sighed and looked at the mess around him. Sauce stains were splattered against the kitchen walls where they dried hard and thick. Somehow, there was batter on the ceiling, which constantly dripped stalactites of flour and eggs to the floor below. Noodles were stuck to the cabinets and floor and there was a mini explosion of flour on the counter-top, looking like a full on snow storm. The sink was stacked high with dishes and pots, most of them burned and smoking. Half cut vegetables and ingredients were mashed up on the floor and for some reason there was exactly 10 spoons arranged in a circle around one single whole tomato.
He supposed the mess was inevitable. Since their rescue a few years prior, his children have always enjoyed sitting down to watch him cook. They seemed fascinated and floored by the whole process of making and preparing food. He imagined that they, in their starved state, couldn’t really imagine a whole new world of different food and flavors that were now available to them. But now that it was they were usually there to watch, scrutinizing his every move with their wide inquisitive eyes.
Sans for the most part was still quiet as always, but Papyrus was using his new vocabulary to ask a thousand questions at once. Grillby tried to answer as best he could, but Papyrus usually would not wait for an answer before he was asking another question.
Eventually it was Sans who came forward and quietly asked if they could help. A cook at heart, Grillby was delighted that they were showing an interest in something he was passionate about. He resolved to give them a hands on lesson.
This was the result of it.
Despite the mess, they had managed to make something…edible. They were so proud and Grillby could only smile as he choked down burnt, crispy noodles and the lumpiest cake imaginable. They were happy, and as long as they were happy, he was.
After the…dinner…he had escorted the children to the living room to play, while he dealt with the mess. Sans of course curled up on the couch as usual while Papyrus grabbed up paper and crayons and set to drawing. Grillby for one, was thankful that Papyrus was out of his chewing phase, he was getting a little tired of replacing eaten crayons on a weekly basis.
Once they were settled down, he went back in the kitchen and shut the door. He pull on some gloves and unlocked a cabinet in the corner, pulling out cleaners. Of course, when he adopted the children, he had taken all cleaners and remotely poisonous things and kept them in a locked cabinet. Normal children he knew would sometimes get into cleaners, but the risk was especially higher with his children’s more canine instincts to get into and taste EVERYTHING. So he was especially cautious.
This was the only instance where he would close and lock a door. The fumes and exposed chemicals were not good for children to be around. He listened to be sure the children were in the other room, before beginning the long task of cleaning.
He was about halfway through the scrubbing when the door knob began to jiggle. There was a soft voice from the other side of the door, unmistakably Sans’s. “Dad?”
“I’m sorry Sans, you can’t come in now.” Grillby continued to clean. “It’s not safe for you to be in here now.”
Sans was quiet on the other side of the door. “Why?”
Grillby had never had to really explain it before. Most of the time the children were sleeping after a meal, so he could clean while they were unaware of what he was doing. But now, they were relatively healthy…physically at least, so they were more alert than before.
“Because I am cleaning, and the chemicals I am using are not safe for children to be around.” He explained through the closed door. “It won’t be long until I am finished.”
There was a pensive pause from behind the door, before Sans replied. “…not safe for you either?”
“No, not really…” It was best to be honest. “But I will be fine. You do not need to worry about me.”
There was the soft patter of nervous pacing on the other side of the door as Sans was obviously thinking about the situation. Despite it being a few years, he was still extremely protective, which has extended from his younger brother to his adopted father. After a moment of contemplation, the door knob rattled again, this time a little more frantic.
“Sans. It is alright. You can’t come in here now.” Grillby tried to be firm but reassuring. Sans was still having anxiety issues and no doubt being closed off wasn’t sitting well with him. “I am safe. Please go back and look after your brother. I’ll be done soon.”
The knob reluctantly rattled one last time before Sans’s soft footsteps wandered away from the door and hopefully back to the living room. Grillby sighed with relief and went back to scrubbing away at the stain on the ceiling.
Scarcely five minutes later (which might have been an eternity to two anxious children) there were foot steps in front of the door again. There was a scratch at the door and a soft whine, which no doubt belonged to the youngest skeleton.
“Papyrus…” Grillby sighed, “I’m fine. I’m just cleaning.”
The first set of scratches was joined by another set, as Sans’s whines joined his brother. They both sounded distressed as they were doing their best to scratch their way through the door.
Grillby frowned. He really didn’t want to let them in…but if they were so anxious….
He didn’t have the chance to do anything before the crack in the bottom of the door was awash with white light and the sharp high humming of gathering magic filled the air. He barely had the time to blink before the door exploded inwards in a mess of light and wooden shards. Pieces of wood burnt in the air and larger pieces landed hard on the floor and the force of the blast cause Grillby to stumble backwards.
There in the doorway was Sans in ‘canine’ form, his lower jaw split and swung to the side as the last sparks off energy dissipated from his maw, his one eye glowing blue. Papyrus was also in the same form, standing safely behind his brother. Sans’s jaws swung in with a click and pulled together again, as he rushed in past the now removed barrier and straight towards his father.
Grillby was too stunned to really do anything as the older child grabbed him gently by the pant leg and began to pull him to the door as the younger pushed from behind. Still in shock he allowed himself to be lead out of the room where the two pushed him on the couch. The two pups instantly climbed on top of their father protectively, growling at the destroyed door and the faint scent of cleaner wafting from the kitchen. Clearly they decided to 'rescue’ Grillby from the locked room where the 'bad things’ were.
Grillby learned that day to never lock doors in the house again.