Okay let's do this! Three reviews, I'm coming for you!:

dream1990: Yep I'm glad there's a sequel too XD

coduss: I literally burst out laughing when I read this thank you

TheSmee2000: Favorite character besides Sans... Huh. I guess it's a three-way tie, really. Asriel, Chara and Papyrus. By the way, do you have any freaking idea why people ship Mettaton with my Papy baby?! I'm sorry but I seriously freaking hate that shipping. And the Sans and Toriel one, even though it's canon. The only one I like is Undyne and Alphys. Oops, ranting before a story. Not good.

Saralei Nighthaven: Yep poor baby.

Anyway! Let's get on with it :D -Sty

Chapter 1

"Brother? It's time to wake up..."

Sans felt the familiar nudge on his shoulder. He groaned, still exhausted from his nightmare in the early hours of that day. He slowly opened his sockets and looked up at his brother, reaching a hand up and gently patting Papyrus' face.

"Yeah...okay..." he mumbled, sitting up. Papyrus blinked at him, surprised.

"Wait... Y-you're...you're actually getting up this morning?" Papyrus asked, his sockets widening and he smiling hopefully. Sans shrugged, pushing himself off his mattress.

"Yeah, I guess. I sorta feel better today. I think I'll come with ya," Sans replied, grasping Papyrus' arm. He was suddenly pulled into an extremely constricting hug, his brother's skull nestling into his shoulder.

"W-woa, Pap," Sans muttered, glancing at the younger skeleton. "You okay?"

"I-I'm just so happy!" Papyrus squeaked out. "You h-have stayed in bed every morning for three months!" Sans felt his sockets blank out, but he smiled at Papyrus, hugging him back.

"Bro, you know I've been fine," Sans said, rubbing his brother's back. "I'm just a little lazy is all..." Papyrus' hold tightened, and Sans' smile broke when he heard a soft sniffle.

"O-okay," the younger brother finally whispered.

"A-all right," Sans said gently, slowly removing himself from the hug. "Let me get ready, okay?" Papyrus nodded, wiping his face. He grinned down at him. When Papyrus left the room, Sans sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

The nightmares hadn't gotten any better, but his "episodes" had at least stopped for the time being. He hadn't killed anyone in two months, which in his mind was extraordinary, but to others it was a very tentative period. It was as if he were waiting for the right moment to strike, or as if he hadn't found the correct monster to come by for him to go for the kill. But he really was healing. He could, in some days, slip out of bed and wander around the house. After a month of leaving Sans be, Papyrus had started up his routine of trying to get him out of their home again.

It hadn't worked until now.

Sans looked around at the mess of his bedroom, trying to find his coat and his slippers. He flipped over miscellaneous bags of uneaten food and checked under dirty piles of socks. He glanced at his dresser and stepped up to it. His coat was on top, so he tugged it on first, leaving it unzipped, then he crouched down to see his slippers under it. He grabbed them and put them on. He silently thanked his past self for putting the items where they were, he mostly glad that he didn't have to open his drawers.

Sans exited his room, closing the door behind him. Looking out over the house quickly made him tired. Maybe he wasn't up for it today. Maybe if he just...

"Sans! It is time to go!" Papyrus chided from the lower level. He smiled wider and made his way downstairs, inwardly cursing himself for not pretending to be asleep. It was going to be a long day, but hopefully it would be worth it. And hopefully he wouldn't break his streak in keeping his skull in the right place.

The second Sans' foot touched down on the second floor's carpet, his hand was clasped by Papyrus and he was dragged outside into the cold. He tended up, almost instantly falling face-first into the snow. But his brother was there, his gloved hands hooked under Sans' arms and holding him up off the ground.

"Brother, you must be careful," Papyrus said, giving Sans a small smile. "I know it has been a while, but I'm sure you can do it today!" Sans blinked at him, feeling a slight warmth spread across his face. He nodded sheepishly and Papyrus laughed, setting Sans down gently. Papyrus took a step forward, but then paused, standing besides Sans, his sockets conflicted.

He's hesitating, Sans thought quietly, looking up at his younger brother. He wants to make sure I stay in the right place, that he's there to support me if I snap, but he also wants to get to his post on time... God Pap, you have no idea how much I appreciate it...

"Go on ahead, bro," he assured lightly. "I'll meet ya there, 'kay?" Papyrus stayed silent, but then he nodded trustingly and dashed down Snowdin's main road. Sans watched him, waiting until he was out of sight to slowly make his way to Grillby's. He walked in, recognized all the usual faces, and sat up at the bar.

"Hey Grill," he greeted, holding his head up in his hands, and keeping his elbows on the wooden counter. His smile shrank slightly. "One ketchup please." The flaming bartender looked at him for a moment before reaching under the counter, bringing up a glass bottle of the red tomato substance and giving him an understanding glance. Sans grabbed it and unscrewed the cap, bringing the rim to his mouth. The sweet and tangy scent entered his "nose". He paused and sighed heavily, setting it back down without drinking any.

"What am I doing?" he asked, propping his head up with a hand. His eye sockets looked up at Grillby.

"Mourning," the bartender murmured, picking up a glass and fire-proof rag, beginning to polish it. "It is a common reaction to loss. Especially to one at such intensity as yours."

"But it's been three months, practically four," Sans pointed out, frowning. "Shouldn't I be over it by now?" Grillby stopped cleaning the glass, setting it back to the counter. He leaned on the bar and stared at Sans from behind black-rimmed glasses.

"It always depends on how attached you were to the child," he said softly, like a father talking to his son after his first broken heart. "I myself have not been the same since Shyren and I had parted ways. Granted, we only separated due to her unwillingness to risk injuring me to stay, but that is besides the point. What I am trying to say is that when a monster loses something -or someone, in our cases- and they loved it, the longer it will take to let go and move on. It is all dependent on how much you imprinted on her." Sans blinked at the fire-monster, his body regretting getting out of bed. He was exhausted, but he forced himself to stay awake.

"What am I gonna do, Grill?" he asked tiredly. "There has to be some way to make the pain go away... And I don't mean drinking so much that the memories become fuzzed and confusing, I mean completely removing myself out of this hell." The bartender's body grew ridged.

"I hope you are not suggesting that you fall down," he responded carefully. "Because, Sans, if you are, I will not hesitate to stop you myself." Grillby's remark made Sans smile sadly.

"Nah, I gave that up a while ago... Every time I got close to dying somethin' always brought me back..."

Grillby tilted his head. "Brought you back?" A small monster hopped up on the seat beside Sans, ordering two root-beers -made from actual roots. Sans stiffened and turned away, his hand shifting over his left eye. Other monsters besides Grillby and his brother still made him anxious. Grillby nodded, expertly pouring the caramelglasses with finesse. The little monster thanked him and skittered away. Sans' head fell to the counter, his shoulders hunched. Grillby asked him something, but he didn't really hear him.

"I don't know," he grumbled, feeling magic pulse slowly in his skull.

"Sans, did you catch my previous question?" Sans turned his head towards the bartender, his gaze a little blurry. He seriously wished he wouldn't break down in front of Grillby, the monster was his best friend after all.

"What was it?" Sans replied, a little embarrassed at his incompetence.

"What brought you back when you were near death?" Grillby repeated, his voice concerned. "Was it Papyrus' healing magic? Or...or are we talking of unnatural forces -because, I swear to god Sans, if this is just some nonsense about spiritual residue, then I will literally slap you right now." Sans chuckled dryly at the fire monster's comment, but then he paused, suddenly confused.

What had brought him back? He was all alone when the most current one had happened; Papyrus was on duty, and he was on the path from Snowdin to Waterfall. The little village was experiencing a pretty bad blizzard of the dusty snow, and Sans had been hoping to either freeze to death or have the cuts on his arms bleed out. But neither of those had occurred. In fact, when he fell to his knees in the storm, he felt warm and comfortable, he felt safe and truthfully, rather relaxed. That day he absentmindedly picked himself up, he went home, wrapped up his slitted arms, and then slept for ten hours. Even though he'd had a nightmare that night, he had still felt something besides his misery.

"I...I don't know," he finally answered giving Grillby a vacant glance. "It's like...it's like I wasn't me when it happened."

Grillby's hands opened and closed, his indistinct eyebrows furrowing. "How many times have you experienced this?"

"Probably around six..." Sans grabbed the ketchup bottle, taking a sip from it. "None of them too recently though. Tried four times in May...twice in June... None for this month." Sans rubbed his face, his energy depleting steadily. "I better go... I said I'd go to work today..." Grillby nodded his flaming head, waving to Sans as he slid off the bar stool. He walked to the entrance and couldn't help himself when he glanced at the booth closest to the door.

Sans jerked back, all breath sucked away. He stumbled and slammed into the ground, gasping for air. Monsters looked to him, some concerned and others wary. Grillby peered over the counter at Sans, who stared at the booth, sweat sliding down his skull and magic burning in his eye.

"You all right, Sans?" Grillby called from across the establishment. Sans barely heard him, all of his focus fixated on the booth in front of him.

"Sans?"

He turned his head slowly towards the fire-monster. His bones shook and for a short moment he lost control. He took deep breaths, slowly overcoming the relentless hatred inside of him.

"Do you need any help?" Grillby prodded, stepping out from behind the bar. Sans carefully got to his feet and shook his head, unable to find his voice. What he'd seen...it was almost...but it couldn't have been...

"Okay, Sans," Grillby said, watching him stagger out of the restaurant. "You take care, now."

Sans contemplated what exactly he saw back at the bar. One moment he was silently giving his respect to the empty booth, and then his vision...shifted in a way. And for a split second, he saw two large blue eyes and a small figure sitting at the booth and staring at him.

He shuddered and walked faster.

He couldn't lose himself today. He had to stay calm. The snow crunched under his slippers and the impossible wind whistled out his hearing. He needed the distractions, he needed to pull the plug on the dark and vicious thoughts. Sans flipped his hood over his head and trudged to his post.

He sat in the snow that edged the treeline of Snowdin Forest. He closed his sockets, warmth spreading through him and he felt his consciousness fade.

But right before he fell asleep he heard the piano keys ring in his skull. Sans frowned, the usual river of sadness plunging him further into the depression. He sighed, opening his eyes and staring at the snowy path in front of him. He hesitated before he took in a breath and began to sing, his voice carrying solemnly into the forest.

"Can you hear... All my fear? I know you... Won't see me soon... But, maybe... You and me... Will live on... When this is gone... I won't fail... In that tale... I'll save you, and I'll stay true..." Tears cornered his eyes and he rubbed his face, sniffling. Why does he do this to himself? He knew he'd never sing that line -it was hers and when she was near she'd reply to him. He knew she was dead and Sanscould never change that. Why would he even begin to think that if he sang the song of Delta then he'd hear her voice and somehow it'd manage to bring her ba-

"You'll have my integrity."

Sans sat frozen for a moment before looking up from his hands to see who'd spoken. Everything seemed to stop when he saw the voice's source. A little translucent, blue-tinged human stood in front of him, her head tilted. Pale orange and gold curls drifted over her face in messy bangs. She was barefoot and had short, thigh-length spandex leggings. Her oversized sweatshirt covered over half of her. Her eyes were bright against her skin and Sans' Soul nearly stopped

"S-S..." he breathed, fear clawing at him. "...Silvia?" The human nodded.

"Hi, Daddy."

Woooooo got it done! Go me! Here you are guys, and thank you for the 11 follows, 7 favorites and 4 reviews! Be sure to do those things! They really mean a lot to me! I'll probably update again on Monday or Tuesday, so be prepared! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! -Sty