Sans dropped to the ground, tears in his eye sockets. His hoodie slouched upon him like a blanket, almost weighing down his entire soul until he could not move anymore. He had messed up. Badly. Very badly. Almost bad enough to consider it terrible but it wasn't so bad to call it terrible so it was still called bad.
It was worse than the time he had decided to grab the bottle of ghost pepper hot sauce instead of the ketchup.
It was worse than the time he teleported himself into the front door.
It was worse than the time he forgot his brother at Undyne's.
It was even worse than the time he accidentally threw up the spaghetti Papyrus made.
A red liquid was splayed across his body, he had put up a good fight, but he had still failed. He could feel his last feelings of hope melt away, as the red liquid continued to spread upon his shirt. He had messed up.
It was worse than the time he had called Undyne a dork on accident.
It was worse than the time he accidentally made Asgore sneeze.
It was much much much worse than the time he accidentally threw out Tori's groceries thinking it was trash.
It was so bad it even topped throwing the kid so high in the air they were stuck up there for three minutes. How that was possible he couldn't understand.
He dropped his head in submission. There was nothing more he could do to stop this. It was too late; he had forgotten about one tiny key factor the time it had mattered, and he paid for it.
This error was worse than the time he decided to tell too many puns to Error.
It was much more horrible than the time he fell asleep mid-teleportation.
And it was definitely much worse than the time he decided to be too curious and look up "Undertail" on his computer. And that gave him nightmares.
Sans' eyes disappeared from his sockets. It was a time of despair, a time of sadness. The world he knew was now gone, and it would never be the same again. His left hand grasped his torso, the red liquid covering quite a lot of his shirt. He fell to the ground, his head smashing into the floor, making a *clunk* sound. He had put all the effort he could into stopping this very moment, the one he dreaded the most, but yet, alas, it was not enough.
It was worse than the time he accidentally threw Papyrus' scarf across the room, somehow managing to land it in the washing machine and turn all their whites pink.
It was worse than the time he lost the pet rock while taking it for a walk.
It was almost as bad as the time he watched Papyrus die during a neutral run while he did nothing, but that was pretty bad so Sans thought it was worth mentioning.
And most certainly, it was worse than the one time he decided to put the milk in before the cereal. What a scum move that was.
Tears began to flow out his eyes, sobs escaped his mouth. The kid put their hand on his shoulder, in a slightly empathetic move. It didn't matter now; the timeline he knew now, was ending, and it would no longer matter.
Soon the sobs turned into silence, and his face was emotionless. His white shirt was now soaked in red liquid, turning it a pinkish hue. But it didn't matter now. He had messed up and made the biggest mistake he possibly could have done.
He laid there, and waited. And waited. And waited. But nothing happened; wasn't he supposed to die?
He heard footsteps and waited for the figure to smash his skull into the ground for the sins he had committed. It was only what he deserved. But instead, the footsteps stopped next to him.
"SANS, GET UP FROM THERE! YOU MAY BE COVERED IN KETCHUP AND MARINARA SAUCE AND THE ENTIRE HOUSE IS TOO, BUT AT LEAST YOU PICKED UP YOUR SOCK!"