I do not own Undertale, that would be Toby Fox.
Sans stumbled through his shortcut, chest throbbing in the cold of the Void, something like a 6 on the scale of feeling great to dead. He was damned if he was going to give the kid the satisfaction of dying where they could watch, though...and, well, no one was really around to give him a proper funeral, were they? At least he could bring his dust to be scattered in the place he loved so much. His slippers dropped onto the familiar hardwood floors.
Somehow he'd managed to forget the fact that Grillby's would be empty. It hurt almost as much as the slash in his chest, the empty chairs filled with faces he knew would never sit there again, never call out his name, never lose to themselves in a game of poker, never buy that spiked collar. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bar, slipping into his stool, the world fading to black. Oh, good. Another RESET. He let himself slip away...and woke up leaning against the door to the Ruins, a dusty scarf wrapped around his neck, and a dull ache across his chest.
The first few times he died, he didn't believe it was happening - surely everything had just RESET? He'd run home, slippers sliding in the ice and snow, certain he'd be bumping into Pap around the next corner...he never did. He never came back. He never came back.
After a while, it sunk in. No matter how many times he would kill himself, he'd just wake up to the same emptiness. The Underground empty and coated with dust, his brother dead, his hope gone. Why bother? Nothing was going to change.
For a long time he just...stopped trying. Stopped moving, stopped breathing. Nothing mattered after all. Each time he starved to death he'd wake up in the same position, so not even that made a difference. It was just...pointless.
That was where he'd been for the last few months. Sitting here, leaning against this door, starving to death over and over and over. Today was about a 3 on the pain intensity scale. No big deal. Hardly any HP left...maybe another rock would fall on him and end it early.
He thought he saw a light coming up the path. He figured he was hallucinating, since he was about a day away from starving again. He blinked, but the light didn't go away. Actually, it got a bit bigger. He rolled over, not interested in whatever this hallucination- whoops. He heard the crack of his nasal and lacrimal bones breaking on the rock wall. Ow...definitely an 8. He heard a gasp, and running footsteps.
He'd somehow forgotten that Alphys had actually managed to save some portion of the population of the Underground. Heh. Probably should have checked in with her or something. Heh. He was scooped up in warm arms that felt so familiar, yet so alien. The voice, too, was something he almost recognized, although he couldn't seem to make out the words...then again, he was more than half starved at the moment, so being a little out of it was probably acceptable. He nuzzled into the warmth, forgetting that he'd given up on trying, apathy thawing in the comforting flames.
He woke up to the feel of blankets against his bones and the smell of resin. It felt...odd. He'd never smelled anything like it, never really slept under something this soft. He rubbed the fabric between his phalanges. Huh. It was some kind of cotton blend, but...softer than what he was used to. Weird.
He tried to open his eye sockets, but something rested against the bone, and he wasn't really in the mood to dig something out of his skull. It always gave him a headache, anyway. The clicks of a computer keyboard filtered through his consciousness. The rhythm was slow and steady, not faltering or hesitating for a moment. It was...soothing. Everything was soothing. He slowly breathed in, only noticing now that he hadn't bothered to breath for...well, a while. The typing stopped.
A hissing voice, filled with fear and worry that made his SOUL dim, whispered, "...Sans…..are you awake?" It was Grillby. Gods, it was Grillby, and he sounded so...frightened that no one would come. Sans tried to sit up - his body gave out halfway there. Quick footsteps and sudden warmth. A flickering hand darting behind his back, flames licking across his thoracic vertebrae as the bartender helped him sit up.
"...Sans…..do you think you can eat?"
Well, that was a question. He shrugged, old habits dying hard. Never let them know you're hurting, never let it show you've given up. They'll only try to help, and that hurts so much more than putting up with the mask, "tibia honest, i don't have the stomach for much."
The flames...didn't leave him. The arm slid around his scapula, the hand cupping his humerous. He felt the other hand come up to trace the spot where his zygomatic process would be if his mandible wasn't melted to his skull. The warmth felt...nice. He felt himself leaning in. The hand hesitated, then slid around to the elongated mess that once was his occipital bone. The arms lifted him, and he found himself wrapped in flames, face pressed to the stiff fabric of Grillby's vest.
"...Sans, please don't…..don't do that…..don't wrap your pain in….in puns and jokes!" Grillby's voice grew louder and louder, flames popping at the end - but the flames holding him were gentle, controlled...safe, "...please, Sans…..for once…..you can grieve….." He felt the shivers and hears the keening, and he isn't sure who started...he let go.
It feels like hours before Grillby lets him lie back again. Sans is still shaking, although somewhere in there it shifted from grief to exhaustion. Warm hands wrap the blanket tight against his bones, then pull away.
"wait, grills-" the words slip out before he knows it. One hand returns, resting against his radius. He reaches over with his other hand, wrapping his phalanges around the fiery wrist. Sans clears his throat, unsure of how to deal with...this thisness in his SOUL, an unfamiliar squeeze at the thought of Grillby leaving, "um...don't leave."
"...I am going to make you some…..fries…..I will...I will be able to hear if you call out," Sans feels the blush creep across his face, and nods. Silence, "...Sans, you can let go of my arm now," the blush spreads. He release his grip. The quiet crackling of the flame elemental's laughter fades away.
Why did he do that?...Why did his SOUL feel so...happy? Well, okay, most of him felt like the depths of the Void, dark and empty, pain a 5 on the scale to 10, but...but there was one part, one thread, tangling through it all...one bright note in the darkness. Happiness...genuine happiness...when had he first noticed it? He...someone had been carrying him, someone warm.
He woke to warmth against his shoulder. He tried to shove away from the touch, but it followed, never putting more than a light pressure against him, light pressure and gentle warmth...oh, right. Grillby. He stopped struggling.
"...I have fries….." Sans felt the corners of his eye sockets start to tilt up in a smile, but suddenly pain. So much pain - 7 or 8, maybe even a 9. He shrank from it, then green flames burned it away, "...Sans…..please be careful….."
He fought down the urge to laugh. Yeah, careful - that was great! Him, careful, when he'd spent months starving to death over and over and over again. Why should he be...careful… "grillby," the healing flames faltered at his tone, "grillby. why?"
"...Sans…..the bones around your sockets were-"
"why do you care? why are you doing...this, all this? why?" A hand caressed his skull.
"...Sans…..you don't know?" He shrank away from the touch. Stop toying with him, stop playing with him, his life wasn't a fucking game.
"know what? that i'm a horrible monster who let his incredible brother, his amazing brother who never had a cynical thought in his life, let his brother go out to meet a human covered in dust?" the flames flickered against his face once more, and he pulled away, "that i'm a horrible monster who stood and watched as said human slaughtered the captain of the royal guard, not once, but twice?"
"...Sans-" No, stop touching him, why are you being nice? Sans knew he didn't deserve it. He had to get Grillby to see how much he didn't deserve it.
"that i'm a horrible monster who couldn't stop one fucking human from dusting half the underground?" Sans pulled his boney knees up to his ribcage, soft fabric sliding over bone.
"...stop it, Sans-" Damnit, Grillby, don't you get it? He felt the shivers spread through his bone, relishing the pain. He deserved it, all of it.
With each word, he curled tighter and tighter into a ball,"that i'm a horrible monster who let a fucking child past me to kill the king?" He let his skull fall forwards. Ow. That was a 10.
"SANS!"
His SOUL shattered.
...was that...what was...augh. He felt the wood of the Door against his skull. Oh, great. Back here again. That was fine. He'd just…
He couldn't see anything. He reached up a hand, phalanges scraping against the sides of his skull. Blink. Blink. Nothing. Darkness. He dug the tips of his bone in, heard the scratch, felt the pain… Black. This had to be a dream, right? He summoned a bone, holding it in front of his face. A glowing blue bone appeared. Was he in a FIGHT with someone? He reached out.
...but nobody came.
Okay, not a FIGHT then. Kinda needed another monster for one of those...or, y'know, a human. It could still be a dream, though, right? Wandering around in pitch black...he'd dreamt that before...you couldn't read while you were asleep, right? But he couldn't see anything...you couldn't feel pain - well, you weren't supposed to be able to, but he'd definitely felt pain in his dreams before, so...that was out.
Well, he could try walking around for a bit. Who knows, maybe Pap was in here. Yeah, that would be great. He stood up, wobbling a bit at the unfamiliar process of standing without a sight reference. Okay, so, that still felt like the Ruins door...he swept around with one slippered foot. Okay. Step one, take the first step…
When he reached the broken branch he remembered one important thing about Snowdin - there were a lot of trees, snow...and cliffs. How was he supposed to get across the bridge like this? It wasn't as if his brother's gate was going to break out into song...his brother...no, not going to break down crying. Get off your lazybones and do something Sans. Heh. Oh, right. He could use his bones. Yeah.
Well, he'd made it all the way to Snowdin proper. Kind of impressive, actually, although it helped that that fucking flower had left all his brother's puzzles solved. The Gauntlet of Deadly Terror had given him issues, but...well, he'd ended up crawling across. It was kinda embarrassing. Anyways, that was over, and he still couldn't tell if this was a dream, so...Grillby's? Yeah, sure, why not.
He cautiously made his way through the town center...trying to avoid the places where he knew monsters usually stood. He couldn't hear any breathing, but...it would feel wrong, walking through their spot, and what if they were watching? So he didn't.
Finally, he reached Grillby's. The familiar warmth radiated out through the front door and he let the comforting feeling wash over him. This was home, just as much as their house...this was the home that wouldn't ache without Papyrus there to greet him. He pulled open the front door.
Silence. Red Bird didn't holler for him to get on over there, the fish didn't shout his name, and that tipsy bunny didn't hiccup out a greeting. Silence, and yet...not silence. All the sound he wanted to hear were absent, but the bar wasn't empty. He heard the quiet flicker of flames far off. Grillby was in, at least, but...but he didn't sound like his usual self. Somehow, he sounded...broken. Heartbroken.
"grillbz, everything okay in here?" Crash, thud, tinkle. Whoops.
"...Sans?" the ache in the flame's voice made Sans' SOUL throb.
"yeah, hot stuff, got anyth-" flames surrounded him, desperately flickering against his bones, warm arms squeezing his ribs so tight he was worried they might crack. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe enough to talk, so he let the bartender hold him. Time passed.
"...Sans…..don't…..don't do that again…..please?" Desperation laced his voice. The arms still hadn't let up, so Sans just nodded. Whatever this was about, he wasn't going to do it again, not if it scared grillby this badly. A moment passed, and the flame spoke, "...Sans…..how did you do that?" Okay, that wasn't fair. First, he had no idea what Grillby was talking about, and second, he had no air to talk. The flame seemed to realise this after a few minutes, because his grip on Sans loosened.
"okay, grillz, tibia honest...i have no idea what you're talking about. throw me a bone here, i'm in the dark," the flames dimmed a little at that last pun.
"...Sans….." The flame set him on the wooden floorboards, and Sans heard them shift as the elemental knelt in front of him. One hand still gripped his humerus, the other moving to caress his cheekbones. Healing green flames flickered to life in his vision, swamping his sight...they found nothing to burn, "...Sans, I saw…..your SOUL shattered…..I felt your dust in my flames…..then it flickered…..there was no dust, no SOUL, I….." somehow…somehow a statement like that didn't surprise him anymore. Guess he was still stuck...here...but, if he died, why…?
He lifted his phalanges to his face once more, tracing the familiar line of his mandible, the bump of his zygomatic process, the...cracks. All around the edge of his socket, cracks, and...his nasal cavity bled into his left socket...and his right. A hand gripped his wrists, pressure light, grip unshakable, preventing his phalanges from dipping into his skull.
"...Sans, talk to me…..please," The flaming grip on his humerus kept him from sinking to the floor as he shook, "...Sans-"
"grillby, let me go," he heard his own voice drop, dark and deep as it always was when he was scared. The hand on his arm squeezed, warmth radiating out and into his bones which suddenly felt cold as snow, "leave me alone," He shook and shook and shook, and every shake brought a wave of warmth to chase away the chill in his SOUL.
"...I will not do that, Sans…..I….." The other hand slid down to his sternum, even through the fabric of his shirt it caught on an upraised patch of bone. Sans cringed at the pain, shooting up from a 4 to an 8. The slash...ached.
"why won't you let me die, huh?" Sans shouted at the memory of a striped figure, a child's laughter layering over flickering flames, "you just keep coming back again and again and again. what, was killing him not enough? huh? chopping off his skull and leaving his dust in the snow? were they not enough, that you have to keep me here to die again and again and again, waking up against that fucking door, hoping that this time, this time they'll be back, and everything will be normal again, calling out for papyrus...papyrus...but nobody came…"
The memory faded, leaving darkness and shivering cold in it's wake. A quiet voice spoke, "...I came, Sans….." he felt himself being slowly pulled into a hug, flames chasing away the ice in his bones, "...I will always come….." Flames flickered under his jaw, a hand tilting his face up...and warm lips pressed against his frozen smile, "...I will always come."