Change.
It was something that was a natural part of life, and it was a very welcome thing for the most part. Change was what brought the Monster and human races together again, after all, something that everyone was thankful for.
But after so much change, having stability was the desire for everyone. After all the changes were done with, the settling process taken care of, and new relationships forged, what other changes were needed?
No, stability and peace were what was desired.
But since when was anyone in control?
Sans took a long drag from his cigarette as he stared up at the clear, star-filled sky, letting the smoke sift through his teeth to mix with the mist of his breath in the cool air. Toriel forbade smoking in the house, which was a bit of a problem since he only smoked when he was stressed...which was 24/7; but he found little ways to enjoy the solitude. Stargazing on the roof was one of them.
A downside to the solitude, though, was that he was very often left alone with his thoughts, which was never a good experience for him. When he was left alone to THINK, all he could think about was his life. And when he thought about his life—as rewarding and fulfilling and full of love as it was—he became depressed.
He hated this feeling. It was horrible to feel this way, to him. He had a wonderful fiance, a great kid who was graduating him from 'Dunkle' to 'Dad', a good job in the Monster-Human Relations Department...
But it's not MINE.
Despite having come to terms with the truth of his existence, the existence itself was still something he struggled with daily. Who was he? WHAT was he? The closest he came to his personal experience was having split personalities that just so happened to be so closely-related it was easy to meld them together.
The problem was, they WEREN'T melded together.
Gaster had been wrong, when he told him that he and Sans were as similar as two differently-dyed shades of water mixed together. It was more water and alcohol; almost-similar densities, but not quite. When not shaken, when left undisturbed, the two separated and because of the different hues in color, it was apparent to see.
That's how he felt all the time. Like an unshaken cocktail. A hot mess of a creature with a fully-intact mind that felt no other presence beside his own, but COULD feel the difference between his own soul and the piece of soul that was given to him by Gaster.
By the original intended theory, there should be no conflict about this. Sans had been created to have a genetically-identical mind to Gaster, and when Gaster handed over his soul half, the melding of minds should have been seamless and clean.
But there had been a glitch in that plan. Literally.
Despite his relative youthful age as a Skeleton Monster, Sans had experienced multiple timelines, over and over and over again, each one adding new experience, new knowledge, and more strength to his own mind to where it had become a separate identity in and of itself despite its cloned origins.
So now, it was the same, but with a very tangible difference, like twins who had been separated at birth and then had their souls fused together to become one; beginning as a single entity, but ending up with two entirely different outcomes.
So yeah, he went with 'split personalities' to explain how he felt. It wasn't too far off the mark, in any case, and the spark of goodness in the fact was in Toriel and Frisk.
True to her promise when this was still a fresh wound, Toriel accepted him, ALL of him, from his different tone of voice to his mannerisms to his chain smoking, and let him know all the time of the fact. She was always there to hold him through his bad days, was quick to remember his new preferences to food, and constantly reassured him of her love. Even with all of that, he still didn't know what possessed him to pop the question, but she had accepted without a second thought.
So that was how he had himself a fiance and a kid who was testing his waters with 'Dad', both things he honestly thought made the whole situation...better. It was good, coming home to all that unconditional love to ground him to the fact that no matter what, he was still himself, and someone that people loved.
It also took the sting out of the different way OTHERS treated him, as sobering as the thought was. Grillby still reflexively gave him ketchup when he came in for a visit, even though Sans was honestly not THAT fond of the condiment anymore. His old buddies from Snowdin looked disappointed when he wouldn't constantly crack jokes.
But it didn't faze him as much as he knew it should, considering Papyr...
….no.
Gaster.
Despite keeping that incident in the Underground to himself, Sans saw the revelation slowly appear to everyone over time, and it never got any easier. Frisk was another case; the kid had incredible empathy and already knew that Papyrus wasn't entirely Papyrus anymore, and Sans was present to the conversation when they point-blank asked him if he was REALLY Papyrus anymore.
It still struck Sans, seeing the pseudo-Papyrus facade—albeit very well put-on—drop as the true persona of Gaster came forth. Let it never be said that Gaster wasn't tactful, though; he was very calm and compassionate in answering Frisk honestly, telling them about the same thing that he told Sans, emphasizing—again, as he told Sans—that Papyrus was not TRULY gone, and that his love still remained for Frisk, unchanged.
"And with a little more," Gaster told them, giving them a gentle smile and brushing their tears away. "Sans is marrying your mother, yes? As I am here too, you're also getting a grandfather. I did dream of my children having children."
Sans left the conversation at that point, getting a migraine from just THINKING of the implications. Not that Gaster had been WRONG, mind...but it just felt so awkward thinking about it.
The next time he saw Frisk, they seemed pacified and much more comfortable around Gaster. He swore he even heard them call him 'Grandpa' more than once.
But not everyone was as accepting as Frisk. Undyne was painfully aware that her best friend was simply not her best friend anymore, the man no longer sharing that much in common with her. When the truth came out, Undyne had been nearly inconsolable despite Gaster's assurances, and for the longest time, Alphys was the only one who Undyne would speak to.
And Alphys...she had known the whole time.
Sans knew he should have suspected something, that day it happened. She had been unusually quiet, staring at the soul stats tablet before her attention had been caught. She came clean to Sans, giving him the USB chip that held the soul stats image, apologizing for not saying anything sooner, but being too afraid of causing an upset.
It was easily forgivable for that...but Sans and Undyne both noticed the relationship change between their closest confidants. Sans would see Gaster and Alphys speaking about her government work, and give his input that she would find useful. She would lament over his ideas and contributions not being recognized, and then shrewdly mention about 'doing something about it'.
It wasn't long before Sans heard word that Alphys had pulled a few strings to transfer Gaster's credentials to current recognition, but in Papyrus's name. Although Sans heard about the transfer, it was still reeling—nauseatingly so—to see Dr. Papyrus Gaster on the mail address.
It just took him back to that day, when it all happened.
"I think...I would like to become a doctor."
It's what Papyrus said he wanted. It was one of the last things he ever heard Papyrus—purely his little brother—say.
Now it was there on paper, but it wasn't his BROTHER who had it.
Sans paused his train of thought as he put out his cigarette, rubbing between his eyes. He was still lingering too much on it all. THAT was the source of his migraines, really—his inability to just let it go.
But really, how COULD he?
It was a matter of time, he knew. Soon, someday, when the years of him being this way outnumbered his years as JUST Sans—son, brother, comedic genius—he would finally accept it and move on.
But not now. Not today.
He closed his eyes for a beat and opened them, now standing in front of a nice outdoor restaurant that was downtown, the eating area illuminated by fairy lights and old-fashioned light posts.
Sitting in the corner of the establishment was Gaster, who was dressed in his normal outgoing casual wear—although with a black-and-orange pumpkin pattern sweater underneath, since it was a Friday—reading through something as he quietly sipped a glass of wine.
Sans didn't have to survey for long before a guest arrived, getting Gaster's attention. Gaster closed his book and beamed, standing and greeting Asgore warmly before sitting down, chatting animatedly. He could hear Asgore's loud, warm laughter across the establishment as a story was exchanged, see Gaster's soft, affectionate smile...
...watched as their hands met in the middle of the table and held lovingly, fitting so well despite the size and structure difference.
God. The old Sans would have found something so damn funny about Skeletons finding a mutual attraction to Goats. But as he was now...
Sans slipped his hands in his pockets, quietly turning and walking down the street, side-eyeing Asgore gently kissing Gaster's skull for a brief moment before heading on his way. He had no place to judge, none at all. It wasn't just that he himself was engaged to Toriel, but the fact that his fully-unlocked inherited knowledge of Gaster's past, of the man's initial attraction to Asgore, of the bittersweet acceptance of the King's marriage to the Queen, of the subtle looks of longing they shared between them...of Gaster's regret of never having said how he truly felt to Asgore the day he vanished into the Void...
That relationship was a secret, just as this one was now. Only Sans knew, but despite his own feelings on the matter, respected their wishes. He knew why. Fear of his and Toriel's reactions were first and foremost, fear of everyone else's was second.
Ah, screw it. Asgore had been dealing with shit left and right since Gaster's apparent 'death' back Underground, the least Sans could do was toss the guy a bone and let him be happy with his old rekindled flame.
…...
Heh. It was...so fucked up.
If he stopped thinking of Gaster as his lost little brother, and more of...well...GASTER...it made things so...much more painless...so much easier to accept...
Sans fished another cigarette from his pocket and lit it up, resting it between his teeth as he began his quiet trek back home.
Sometimes, he thought, it was easier just to pretend Papyrus didn't exist anymore.