Falsely Convicted (G!SansxFrisk)

Two Days

As we were walking back to our cell with a guard following us, G said, "Why are you in this prison kid?"

"Why are you so sure I didn't kill him?" A new wave of guilt washed over me. I did kill him, I didn't act fast enough and that cost Ryan his life. I deserved to be here.

"Ya can't even watch a beating Dove."

"Fine, I didn't do it. Happy?" I snapped. Then realizing my tone said, "Sorry."

G wiped his bloody hands on his jumpsuit and looked at me coldly. Fear overtook my guilt but all G did was say, "None of my business," nonchalantly and walk into our cell.

We both crawled into our cots and fell asleep. The last thing I heard was the cell door rattling shut.

I woke up to a flashing red light and a high-pitched alarm. G was standing at the cell door, his arms folded. I walked up to him and noticed for the first time that I didn't even reach his shoulders. He was glowering darkly down the hall, his iris smoking again.

"What's happening?" I asked. He looked me and then back down the empty hall. It felt lonely and cold, even with G standing next to me.

We stood there for an hour at least before either of us moved. "Maybe it's nothing," I suggested hopefully.

He shook his head. I sighed and went back to my cot. Putting my arms on my knees, I rested my head on my arms and watched the halls but nothing came.

After a few more hours, G gave up to. He surprised me though by sitting on my cot and looking at me. Really looking, he searched my eyes, allowing me to search his.

Even though only one was lit and the other was a socket, they were deep and dark. I could see anger but I saw through it all to the pain and hurt that was behind it.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter. I turned down the one he offered me but he still stayed on my cot.

"What's your real name Dove?"

"Frisk."

"I'm Sans," he said causally. I nodded but wasn't sure what to say. "Sans Gaster."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're the warden's son?" I couldn't help the question, or my surprise.

"Unlucky me huh?" he joked. I chuckled. "Heh, I heard your family ain't that great either."

"'Ain't that great' is an understatement," I agreed.

We heard a large bang from far off in the prison. "G what's happening?"

He sighed, "Something bad Dove."

Realizing he wasn't going to give me a real answer, I asked, "Why do you call me Dove?"

"You're a pet and ya didn't look like a dog to me." He puffed on his cigarette.

"Okay...why do you smoke so much?"

"What else is there to do? Still don't want one?"

"I have lungs." G laughed at that, a small smile lit up his face, making him less frightening. But as soon as it appeared, it disappeared.

Hours drudged by, it was way past lunch and yard time by then. G and I were both sleeping. The hunger didn't bother me much, all I had to do was think of the food in the mess hall and I was good.

G was looking at me, or rather the cuts and bruises that were healing on me. "What?" I asked, trying to smile.

"Sorry about that," he said softly.

"About what?" I asked curiously.

"I beat cha up real good, didn't I." He reached out and brushed some hair out of my face, uncovering a bruise.

"It's okay," I said, forgiving him. I saw the slight remorse spelled across his face. I wondered why he felt this now.

He shook his head, "No, it's not. I had a bad day and just lost it on ya. I'm normally better than that." He sighed. "Hitting a little girl...what's wrong with me?" He seemed furious with himself.

"I'm not a little girl," I said, sounding exactly like one.

G smirked, "Nope, you're a little dove." I rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry kid. It seems I owe ya as well....but tell any one and..."

"You'll kick my a**?" I said with a smile.

"Yup," he smiled back.

We both fell asleep.

Over the next day and a half, we slept and talked about nothing important. No one came for us and there were several loud noises that kept waking G and I up. Sometime while I was sleeping, the alarm was shut off. G and I were starting to get thirsty and hunger was starting to peck at me, even the mess hall's food sounded like a good idea

It had been forty hours since we've seen anyone at all. G was starting to get anxious. He slept a little less and paced across the floor agitatedly. He hands behind his back, he mutter in his deep voice low enough so that I couldn't hear him.

"G what's happening?" I pleaded for an answer, fear bringing me close to tears.

He didn't even look my face as he said solemnly, "The prison's in revolt."