Chapter Text
The walk wasn’t too harsh on you, but gods did you want to slap at least 70% of the drivers in this town. Reckless, absentminded blubbering mooncalves. Sans walked just ahead of you, warning you of any potentially difficult terrains as you journeyed. Your goal shifted from checking in with someone to obtaining an ice cold dr. pepper as soon as physically possible, and as you pushed the doors open, you made a beeline just to notice Xandi stocking the side coolers. Instantly, you assumed the most upright position you could while staring her down, unmoving. She continued stocking as Sans called your name. Your arms flung up, balled fists bored before you as you shuffled with haste towards her, your tight lips pulling into an eerie smile. As she fully turned from you, you booked it, slamming into her and encasing her in a hug as she let out an astonished gasp. You giggled against her and squeezed, earning you a humoured chastising, “You scared the shit outta me, man.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, however that’d be a lie.” You gave her a giant grin, “And you’re my friend, so I don’t wanna lie to you!”
Xandi’s eyes hovered over you briefly, a flash of something behind them that you only managed to spot before it flickered away and a gentle smile took rest, “You’re truly just earnest, aren’t you?”
“I… I try to be. Do you have time to talk? Outside, if possible?” You looked up at her, your mouth pinching anxiously, allowing you to carefully chew on the thin layer of skin lining the inside of your cheeks.
“Yeah, I got a few. Dot’s gonna stop by later, too, if you’re looking for her.” She gathered her broken-down boxes on the cart, returning her attention to you.
“Well, I do have to check in with her, but I don’t think it’s super prevalent. We mostly stopped by to get drinks.” She paused, “We?”
“yep, just the two of us this go around.” Sans snaked his way through the crowd, reappearing on the other side of Xandi, giving her a small ‘yo’ as she spun her attention to him. His eyes flicked up to her before returning to you, “need a few? i can grab the drinks while you two talk.”
A warm smile spread across your lips, “I’d really appreciate it.” You looked up to Xandi as she nodded and gave you a smirk of her own.
As she tossed the boards into the dump, you shifted your gaze to look up the train tracks that stretched out behind the store. The passing traffic was dying down as the evening was settling in, most of the rushes over and down with from what you could gather. You took a breath, “So, I wanna talk to you about something.”
“What’s up?”
“My… identity.” You two shared a look while you formulated your words, “I’m… not comfortable being ‘out’ at work, given the area we’re in. But, um, casually I’m 100% down. Uh, so… I guess it’s time once more.” You gave her a weak smile, holding your hand out and bowing, “My name is y/n, my pronouns are they/them, and I’m some form of a perpetually exhausted pigeon. I don’t mind if you slip up, or forget, I mean, we have known each other for over two years at this point. But, any kind of effort to call me as such outside of here would be appreciated.”
She looked you up and down, her face unreadable. Anticipation turned to anxiety as you awaited her response. A soft smile bloomed as she looked to you, “No, that’s fair. So, just to clarify, Charlie while you’re here, y/n outside of here?”
“If it wouldn’t be a bother.”
As her arms wrapped around you, tears that you’d been holding back rushed forward and a whimper managed to escape. The two of you spent a few more minutes talking once you were able to collect yourself before heading back in. After visiting a bit longer, Sans and you headed home, drinks in hand. The walk was mostly in silence, much to your relief. The conversation that you had with Xandi had drained what fighting spirit you had and you were very eager to make it to the couch. Or bed. Or whichever.
Not that the fates had that in mind for you. Walking up the path, you managed to see a very tired Papyrus sitting on the steps. He gave an energetic wave upon seeing you, “WELCOME HOME, Y/N! I HOPE YOUR WALK WASN’T TOO ROUGH.”
A smile cracked, “Eh, not really. More so now since I did so much, but it’s nothing unmanageable. What about you? You look exhausted, man.”
“er, yeah, why you look so tired, bro?”
A twinkle in his socket, he leapt to his feet, grabbed your hand and ran you inside, leaving Sans outside. There was a new room being built, on the far end of the hall right above the kitchen. The pride Papyrus had with showing it off made your heart swell with joy, “SADLY, IT’LL PROBABLY BE A WEEK OR SO UNTIL THE NEW ROOM IS BUILT UNLESS I CALL MY FRIEND, BUT UNTIL THEN THE COUCH OR ONE OF THE FINISHED ROOMS IS YOURS FOR THE TAKING!”
“Paps… that’s… wow,” you looked around the room’s shell, speechless and touched. You looked up at him, unable to hide your gratitude. “I really can’t thank the two of you enough. I’ll pick up some more hours if possible to help fund anything that goes on here.”
He gave a chuckle and shook his head, “IT’S ABSOLUTELY FINE. I COULD USE AN ADDITIONAL SET OF HANDS AROUND HERE. THAT CAN BE YOUR FORM OF PAYMENT - HELP WITH THE CHORES! N-NOT THAT YOU DON’T ALREADY.” A smile is all you could manage before you gave in and hugged him.
~~~
It was a quiet night. You were sitting on the couch, looking up at the stars, and letting the silence of the house and, for once, your mind consumed you. A your third refill of wine rested on the window sill by you while you watched, stoned, a bit tipsy, and mesmerised. Space has always been a love of yours, ever since you were a child. If it wasn't for your bastard chemistry teacher in high school killing your love for the subject, you might have continued to follow that dream. To this day, you still haven't forgiven him. You took a swig of your beverage and yawned before checking the time. 12:45 am. You scoffed a laugh and took another swig.
It'd been around a month since the brothers had coerced you into moving in with them, despite your protests. For now, you were crashing on the couch while the room was being finalised and inspected, assisting with what bills you could. Weekly paychecks were nice, but the fact that you had almost no hours the week before or the one prior to it, your checks were, frankly, pathetic. On top of insurance garnishing them, the little bit you had left over was barely enough to fuel your gas tank, let alone eat and take care of yourself. It didn't help that your secondary bank account was a money transfer service that had to be linked to the account you shared with Clark. Your lives had been so tightly intertwined for so long that untangling them was going to be a major pain in the ass. A bitter smile twisted your lip as you briefly wondered how he was doing. He never really was one who was vocal about his feelings, seemingly regurgitating whatever he could to sway opinions or conversations in the directions he wanted. Reflection without the loving rosey glasses showed several red flags you had either overlooked or missed and, in a way, you felt like you had betrayed yourself.
A creak alerted you of someone else being sentient and you whipped your attention to the noise. Sans was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a sleepy brow arched, a lazy grin on his jaw, one eye closed and the other barely halfway open. You inclined your head and gestured to the empty side of the couch, "Feel free to join me. Wine's in the fridge if you want any."
He nodded and gave a yawn as he slumped by, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment before spawning on the couch next to you with his own glass. He'd picked up some extra shifts at work, as had you. Both of you were completely exhausted at this point. You'd offered to get a second job to help pay your way, but both the brothers protested. You knew from the game that Sans had at least three jobs when he worked in the Underground and you desperately hoped he wasn't doing the same up top, but for whatever reason, you couldn't bring yourself to ask. You opened the bottle, "Tell me when."
Conversation always flowed smoothly between you two, but tonight neither of you had something to talk about nor were willing to break the blanket of silence that encompassed you. You took a drag off your dab and offered it to him. He lowered his glass and looked at it for a few before ultimately taking the pen, hitting it, returning it with a thanks, and slumping back against the couch with a heavy exhale, the smoke swirling in the air before him. You returned the pen to its home on the window sill and attempted conversation, "Sans?"
"what is it, y/n?"
You took the moment to scoot down next to him and lean against his shoulder, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" It was a childish question, but one that had been on your mind recently. "I… wanted to be a comic artist or scientist. Science has always been a love of mine, despite what my schooling grades showed. Sadly, unless you get scouted or lucky, comics can't pay the bills, and my love for the latter was killed in senior high." He was quiet for a moment and you felt a spike of anxiety,
"You, er, don't have to answer, I was… just curious." You two sat in silence save for his soft hum of thought. After a while, he took a breath for his response.
"...back in the underground, i was once known as a royal scientist. the original was g, a respected monster, garnering a lot of praise for his contributions to the development of the core and other projects, and a good friend of the king’s. he… disappeared one day. the title went to me, but i couldn't take the pressure of trying to live up to him while taking care of paps. i left after a few years and it went to the secondary choice, alphys. alp was quiet, and very shy, so convincing her was like trying to pull teeth. eventually, she agreed and she's been the royal scientist ever since. i remember asgore telling me g's disappearance wasn't my fault and that we'd search for him, but it’s like his memory was forgotten by everyone save for myself. the search never happened and i’m the only monster who recalls him. i… think about him a lot."
His voice dropped off, but he cleared his throat and continued, "after i quit, i tried different things, such as being a shopkeeper or a janitor but neither of those filled me with the excitement my scientist job did. i moved on to selling hot dogs for a relatively stable job while attempting comedy on the side. jokes are still something i enjoy doing, and it's not something i would mind doing for the rest of my life, but i feel like i’m missing something."
Quiet moments like this were honestly few and far inbetween. This was the second time you had gotten him to open up like this. Listening to him talk about his life in the Underground was so surreal. It meant that for years he’s been experiencing a completely different life, and the numerous complications that come with it. A life of suffering he didn't deserve. Ȧ̸̬́̏n̸̼̖̚d̴̖̽ ̶̑̈́͜͠w̶͙͖͝à̷͙͈̮͌͂ị̶͚̥͑͗̈́t̸͚̂i̸̛͚̪̬̓̓n̵̙̗͍̾͂g̶̗͋ ̷̖͐͒͝f̴͍̝͑́̔ő̶̘̙ŗ̴̮͑̂͋ ̶͙̽͋y̴͇̅̂̉ó̶̧ų̴̻͛͌̀.̷͉͈͉͒̎̓
You wondered briefly if monsters had soulmates, and if there was a possibility Sans had one. You decided to prompt the question, which left him sputtering, his cheeks going blue, "y-yeah we do. why wouldn't we?"
"I guess it wouldn't make sense for you to not, but I hadn't thought about it that far." You leaned back on the arm, "How do you know? With humans, there's a lot of times we don't. We could go our whole lives and never meet our soul mate. It’s also possible for either us or our soul mate to die before the other is born.”
“it’s the same with us. hell it’s possible ours isn’t even a monster. there have been cases in the past where monsters have found theirs to be human. even if it’s a distressing thought at first, the monster in question usually ends up falling for their mate before they even find out. it’s not some cinematic moment when you meet them like in the movie, but when you realise it, you physically see it.” A pause. “they stand out from everyone and everything else, a faint aura shining on them that only you can see. depending on how interactions go, it becomes more and more apparent so when you realise it, you’re just sorta… dumbfounded that it was unnoticed for so long.”
A disdainful smile twisted the corners of his mouth, while a longing stare took over his eyes and exhaustion washed across the rest of his skull, “it doesn’t matter how many times you meet them again, it stays as bright as it was when you first realised. Sometimes a little brighter if your interactions are going well. Sometimes, a bit dimmer if not.”
You felt your chest squeeze, “Personal experience?” His reply was a deflecting hum and something so quiet you didn’t catch it. You mulled over the conversation, words escaping you. It didn’t surprise you that he had one, nor that he had met them. It doesn’t seem like it had been going well, though. You stood, surprising him briefly, and made your way towards the kitchen for a snack, “Gotta say, I’m a bit bummed you’ve already got someone. I knew a guy like you couldn’t be single.”
“no, i am, but i’ve heard what i said. especially thanks to alph and undyne. they both gush all the time about that stuff.” he arched a brow bone and threw you a suspicious smirk, “regardless, i’ve gotta ask- what’s this about being bummed i have someone?”
“What? Didn’t know that most humans unintentionally crush on their friends?” You turned to look at him. In the span of five seconds, he furrowed his brow, looked up at you, then away, looked back, and sputtered, blue radiating from his face while you nearly doubled over at his reaction. As you caught your breath, you felt the warmth pulsate from your cheeks and the tears that escaped your eyes from your laughter and soaked in the blissful joy. Nonchalantly, you walked over and gently poked his forehead, “You’re blue now. That’s it. That’s my ‘special attack’.”
He looked away, glowing a bit brighter as you straightened and made your way to the kitchen, returning moments later with a bag of chips and a jar of salsa. You plopped down by him, opened the bag with one hand, the salsa with the other and your thighs, and flipped on the tv with your bag-free hand. You flipped through the channels, eventually landing on a rerun of NCIS and offering the chips to Sans. He pondered for a moment before nodding and slipping his hand in the bag, “so what brought up the whole soulmate thing?”
“Curiosity, my friend,” you informed him between bites, “It’s a horrible, horrible thing that causes you to open cans of worms and/or do/say things that you wouldn’t otherwise. Morbid curiosity is worse, though, because you know you shouldn’t check the can of worms cause they’re probably rotting but goddamnit is it intriguing in some sick way.”
You held out the salsa jar to him as you funnelled your own into your mouth. He watched you, pity written all over his expression, “what’s something that you’re afraid of losing? it can’t be much, seeing as how much you risk yourself to prove you’re right.”
You felt your lips contort into a bitter grimace, “It’s stupidly childish, man. I’m not sure you really wanna hear it.”
“y’know, saying i “don’t wanna” has the reverse effect of what you’re goin for. you’re aware of this, yes?” There was that smug ass smirk again.
“Wha? It is? Whatever would give you that idea?” You threw in your best mock-shocked expression, running your hands down your face in faux panic while you played with the wavering fluctuations in your tone. That earned you a throw pillow to the face. Chuckling, you sat back, “My friends. It sounds so stupid and childish, but I really don’t have many offline. I have a few coworkers, but not including them, family, or former coworkers, I have like… two. Not including you, Paps, or Clark. And hell, even then I’ve worked with the them at some point so I guess I have just you and Papyrus if we keep the categories.”
Sans POV
Secrets were the few things Sans considered himself a master of. He’d had so many for so long it became an easy topic to dance around. He was pretty good at picking out if someone had one or many. The ones with many were easy to pluck from a crowd, and if he was patient enough, the guilty party would eventually spill their guts to him in an effort to rid themselves of their sins. It amused him to a degree. People were quick to trust others with these dark parts of themself, not realising that it could very easily be weaponized against them. A lot of times, these secrets given in confidence are leaked by those who either were scored by or wished to scorn the other. It never seemed to fail that half the friendships he made would dissipate due to his own secrets. Hell, his first relationship ended thanks to them.
And then there was y/n, the resilient human who carried so many secrets their SOUL was unviewable. Sans had thought it an error at first, but after numerous attempts to see the thing ended up null, he started looking at the broader aspect of who they were as a person. They were a bit of a people pleaser, not really knowing how to say no when asked for favours. Even when exhausted or sick, they always thought about the others around them. Such was evident when their first concern when waking up at the hospital was to make sure he was alright. He’d gone over monster deaths in the past, but seeing the relief in their glistening eyes while they looked over him made his chest tighten in a concerned manner. Sans was one to care about others, but not to the degree that they did. It never truly seemed to matter exactly who they were speaking with, they did what they could to help them feel comfortable with them. It also brought questions to his mind as to why they say they have layers to them, and that very few had made it to the bottom of said layers.
“i’m not understanding,” he started, “why purposefully make your list shorter by eliminating people based on how you know them? wouldn’t it twist the friendship to be something it’s not by doing so?”
“The first level is that of a surface,” they had stated, adjusting themself to be just out of his reach. He wasn’t sure why, but they seemed to gain a bit of courage, “You can see my outer appearance and a generic front for who I am. Then, there’s the second, which is where I’m more relaxed and conversational. The third is where I give candidates a taste of my weirdness, making more random and off handed comments, giving leeway into how I think.”
They took a hit from their dab pen, pondering the bitterly delicate smile that teased the corners of their lips, “The fourth is the gremlin layer, and it’s where I’m mostly transparent and indulge those around me to my weirdness.” They gave a soft chuckle, hiding their face in their arm, “And then there’s the fifth, where I feel as open as possible.” They looked up at him, resting their head in their hand as it propped itself against their knee, “There’s nothing they don’t know about me, and I can easily slip into my most intimate thoughts for conversational sake. This sometimes comes out when I’m stoned, but for the most part it’s reserved for those that are truly special to me. So far, there’s been about two people to reach that point in all my years of living. And, ironically, neither of these people are in my life anymore.” They looked down, a sorrow swirling in their eyes, “So, I try not to get that far into friendships. They all end up leaving anyways, so there’s no point in becoming that vulnerable. Plus, not letting someone get that far prevents…” They didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need them to.
To say he was surprised by how intricately they thought about their friendships would be an understatement. It explained why they had so many, especially ones that didn’t share a lot of their ideals. He thought over the ever long list of people they called their friends, and he was instantly able to base where they were in the layers by how they interacted with them. He could even place Paps at a solid level 3, a whole level behind where he figured he was. However, they were increasingly becoming more and more intimate with him in regards to their thoughts and feelings, so he half wondered if he was close to breaching level 5. He wondered what awaited him there.
As if on cue, they scooted back down next to him and cleared their throat. He gave them his attention, "hm?"
“You’re probably at like, level 4 or something. Based on knowing my own grading scale,” their words were stated slowly, like each piece was contemplated thoroughly before being spoken, “In all honesty, you might hit level 5 pretty soon.”
He waited, a knot forming in his stomach. “is that so? what about paps?”
“Level 3. Close to 4. I sincerely doubt he’d be willing to put in the effort to try to get to know me to that level, but he might just make it.” Another hit. “Xandi and Andrew are at level 3. Probably won’t progress any lower than that, unless things were to change or something was to happen. YK8 is all at a solid 4, with a handful of outliers close to the 5th stage. Frej is at a 4. And so on.” A shrug.
“huh, any particular reason i’m among the closest?”
Silence. A pondering expression. His eyes lingered on them, tracing their features. Their eye shape, their lips, their hairline, their ear, everything his eyes could see he dedicated to his memory. How else would he-
A sigh snapped him from his thoughts. “I… mostly tell you this as a precaution.”
“precaution?”
A hum, “I like you a lot. You’re one of the chillest people I know and I cherish our friendship more than I can express. For both our sakes, please stop.” He cried out in protest as they sat up, the darkness in their eyes on full display. So much pain and sorrow rocked in them it stunned him from any response he had. They gave a soft chuckle and swallowed, depression weighing their tone, “I have a lot of wounds that haven’t even begun healing, and if someone else were to make it there and leave, it wouldn’t be pretty.” Any attempt to revive conversation failed, and they ultimately passed out on the other end of the couch, their dab and vape still in their hands.
Oh man, this is bad. He paced back and forth, only occasionally stopping to see if he had awoken them from their slumber. Just for a brief moment, he saw it. Their SOUL. Cracked and blackened from emotional damage. No amount of hospital or therapist trips would mend that. Gods, it had to be from more than just lost friendships. He rarely saw that kind of damage unless it was the result of familial trauma. However, the part that shook him to his silence earlier was the brief hint of colour he saw in it. He had no way of knowing if he actually saw it or not, but should it be what he believed it was… Oh man, this is bad. His hand instinctively went for his pocket to call someone and have them talk him down from this panic. He knew it was futile, though. No one would be able to help him with this. With a defeated, anxious huff, he sat on the stairs and stared at the ground. Thousands upon thousands of questions and scenarios played out in his head, but he knew one thing.
He wouldn’t stop. He was too far in.