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It was a grim and bitter evening. Gusts of icy cold wind rushed through the streets of the city and with it, it brought thin curls of fog. Although a fog did sweep across the city, it was a cloudless night. The street lamps gave the fog a yellow glow as it calmly gathered together. It gave it an almost ethereal feel to the empty streets. Any fog that didn’t have the light of small flames in lamps was illuminated by the full moon in the sky, giving off a ghostlier vibe to areas untouched by light. One of these certain areas was the small gravel path next to the river, jammed between too streets but was still untouched enough for shrubbery to grow.

The riverside path was usually abandoned throughout every hour of darkness but tonight, just as the bells tolled eleven, a gentleman came stumbling down the path. At first glance you would guess that had his fair share of beverages on account of how his feet shuffled amongst the gravel unevenly. Each step had a new direction it wanted to go in. However, of you took a second gaze at this peculiar fellow, you would spot that although one hand was still holding a cane, the other was grasping desperately at his chest. Now, another thing that would be identified as odd (or perhaps concerning) was that this gentleman could be identified as that of a man similar to Sans. On the other hand, he was quite a bit taller than said skeleton.

There were subtle differences, mainly in attire, that could be seen. Sans was known for wearing clothes that would marginally hang from his frame. He was still never anything but neat in public, as a gentleman should be. Although his shirts were big they would be tucked under the waistband of his ill-fitting trousers that threatened to scrape the floor wherever he stood, his tailcoat would always be slightly too long for his height and his gloves were a tad bit too big for his hands.

It was indeed quite apparent that it was the opposite with this skeleton. The very ends of his trousers threatened to rise above his ankles instead and his shirt, taunt around his chest, probably wouldn’t return under the waistband even if he released it from captivity. Captivity between large fingers cramped under the confines of his gloves. The bottom of his tailcoat rested questionably at his pelvis and it would’ve been seen as fairly comical if it were under any other circumstances.

A rather unsettling feature to note were the gentleman’s eyes. Eyes that snapped towards every rustle of the leaves and any caws of the crows. Both pupils had constricted to nothing more than the size of a pea and if you watched closely, you could see them blink between blue and red and even purple.

If you were to tot up all the peculiar happenings about this gentleman, you would find yourself wondering of the peculiar situations he has been in.

The troubled man seemed lost to his own mind, walking onward without any inclination as to where he might be heading. He would’ve wondered for hours but a sudden yet calm clear of the throat amazingly caught his attention. It was another man, dressed similarly to himself (one that was more appropriately dressed might I add). He tilted his head marginally to look up at the other with concern fresh and present in his eyes. It was a human. A human whose face was round, well-made and aged with rather short hair that peeked out from underneath his top hat. The gentleman’s nose was noticeably pointed and his lips pursed into a tight line but his gaze showed no judgement, no disgust, no. Kindness. It was kindness.

Naturally, it was to be expected to show gratitude for one’s compassion if you did not specifically require it but the skeletal gentleman’s jaw had clamped shut and his mouth began twisting horribly as if his words were held hostage by his tongue. He was willingly preventing himself from responding. All the words and phrases jumbled together in his mind and whatever they strung together to make would’ve been too impolite to say in the face of another. He couldn’t bring himself to formulate a request for the man to leave so he silently prayed that he’d leave on his accord.

It wasn’t happening quick enough.

The kind-eyed gentleman in front of his continued to fuss over his state and well-being; caused new tension to build within his body. His wrist twitched by his side and his fingers involuntarily snapped around his thick cane so tight that any more force would break the wood it was made from. Simultaneously, he felt his soul clench under his shirt and his psyche warp. The human inhaled sharply in surprise as the pained skeleton suddenly clung to the back of the bench beside them with one hand; his cane still held tightly in the other. He couldn’t bear to conceive the thought of how much discomfort his fellow man was in. He drew closer with worry and questioned him once again if he was indeed feeling alright in himself; yet the only response he was given were sharp huffs. If he had any, he’d suspect the skeleton’s eyes to be bulging from his skull as his teeth ground down against each other.

The influence of the voices grew stronger and stronger as their combined anger and distress made adrenaline flood through every fibre of his body. He had never felt this before. Not once had he been subjected to suffer their anger and it did something to them. It changed them. What was once competition between several emotions was now teamwork between one specific emotion.

Anger.

Each of his sides would bicker and fight for the right to his body but they never once felt the exact same feeling at the exact same time. Their feelings had always remained separate but as their hatred towards each other grew, it began to equal out. Equal out into his one primal instinct. One primal instinct that forced adrenaline through his bones. Adrenaline that made him tense. Too tense like an overstretched band.

What happens when there’s too much tension?

The band, to put it simply, snaps.

Before the older gentleman could come any closer, Sans’ arm snapped to the side bringing his cane across his front and straight into the old man; who stumbled away and clutched the place the cane had struck him. Sans spun to face him. Sans’ eyes shone a piercing purple colour and without any hesitation, he clubbed the poor man to the dirt and began striking his body furiously. The man under him cried out in agony as he felt his bones shatter from the sheer power behind each blow. The monster above him grunted like an animal as its arms grew tired with each strike. But it didn’t stop. When there was no energy to swing its cane, it resorted to wildly stomping his foot into his beaten body. The fury of this new found anger seemed boundless even after his victim long stopped moving. It quickly reached a peak. With a sudden burst of energy, the monster snarled aloud savage shouts, mercilessly massacring the body.

But it stopped as quickly as it had overwhelmed it. The raw aggression he felt suddenly flushed from his body and his wild eyes slowly began to focus. The magic in his pupils returned to slipping between red and blue. His chest heaved with laboured breathe. His hands shook. Any remaining adrenaline that coursed through his body suddenly retreated and pooled into his stomach. Even every voice in his mind suddenly silenced themselves. His stomach twisted at the sight of the mangled corpse that lay in front him; a product of his sudden rage.

It was quite now. The wind knifed through him and Sans shakily pulled together the front of his coat. He needed to leave. He needed to get away. He needed somewhere self. His mind desperately willed his magic to take him somewhere, anywhere from here and he squeezed his sockets closed as he felt his magic tear through reality in a panic. Tiredness seeped through his bones and his legs gave way, knees crashing against a wooden floor. Breath that he didn’t know he held rushed out through his nose and the next breath he took caught in his throat; forcing out a painful burst of air through his teeth. The next wasn’t as graceful as the last and before Sans knew it, he was hyperventilating. Both his hands shot up to clutch his skull, fingers wracking across the surface. Tears now swiftly gathered in his eyes before spilling out down his cheeks. Ragged gasps for air made his head spin and stomach churn as he let himself come undone.

“Sans?”

Sans‘s gaze immediately snapped to the sound of his name. His pupils shrank. In moment of disbelief, his eyes swept across the room, recognising the decor of the room he’d been in far too many times. No.

Why was he here?

Why did his magic bring him here?

Why did it take him to you?

 

You stood in the doorway to your sitting room, nightgown on and candle by your side. When you had heard something downstairs from your room, the last thing you expected to see was Sans. You were indeed surprised but that was soon changed to worry as soon as you saw the state he was in. Curled up on the floor, mouth agape as he breathes heavily, tears spilling down his face. Your eyes widened further at the state of his magic. Magic that was bubbling in his sockets in variety of red and blue hues.

You took a cautious step towards him but he suddenly pushed himself further from you. Your brows knitted together with even more concern.

“It’s alright. I’m here. You’re alright.”

“I’m not alright!”

You were taken aback by his abrupt shout of anger as his eyes flashed purple. Sans immediately saw the fear in your eyes and took a shallow breath; his eyes returning to their state beforehand.

He watched as you gathered back your courage and didn’t move at your second advancement towards him. You both kept your eyes locked with one another as you lowered yourself down to his level and you delicately placed your candle on the floor beside you both. As soon as you came face to face with him, he flung his arms around you. His hands gripped your gown tightly and his face hid itself away in your shoulder. More tears flooded his sockets when something inside him told him that you would be afraid if he dared to tell you the truth.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened at. Just know I’m here for you.”

Sans pulled away from your hold to look you in the eyes. It was as if he were searching for something within them. It made your heart shatter as his mouth struggled to even open to allow the words out.

“Something happened between all of us and the next thing I know is-”

A sudden chocked sob erupted from the back of his throat, cutting off his confession. You pulled him close to yourself again, your own tears threatening to slip down your cheeks. It was fortunate, though, that his crying only continued for a moment before his took another deep breath.

“-is that there was a body in front of us.”

The next line of his confession was merely a hoarse whisper but it made your body freeze in shock. Sans recoiled away from you and cast his gaze to the dark corner of your sitting room. Your eyes remained on his momentarily before landing on the candle beside you. It was lie if you said you didn’t feel fearful of him. You had tried to pass off the thoughts of danger you had when first discovering his alternate personalities.

But you know them. You had practically spent every day with Sans and his ‘others’. You knew exactly how each of the three of them acted like the back of your hand. You banished all thoughts of Skull doing this because Sans stated that they had all done it collectively. No, this was new. This was something different. This was something dangerous.

“I understand if you hate us.” Sans muttered, making you turn back to him.

However, you smiled warmly and took a hold of his gloved hands.

“I will admit it does have me worried and frightened about what that was.”

He went to pull away.

“But I can’t leave you think that, Sans“

He turned his body back, interlocking his fingers with yours and holding onto your tightly like you might even disappear right then and there.

“This is something completely new and it would be cruel if I left you to deal with it on your own.”

“But I took the life of somebody I had never even met before!”

“But I know that you did not intend nor even want to. I’m looking into the eyes of a man who did not enjoy what he committed. None of you did.”

Without any warning, Sans pulled you flush against him, one of his hands ghosting over your hair before settling back down on your back. He took another breath and planted a kiss on the side of your head.

“Thank you, (y/n).”