Chapter One
alphys
alphys
hey
tiny godzilla
Ding.
Im not tiny godzilla you jerk
Giggling, he told her, well answer me next time
Im busy what is it?
His humor melted away at her curt reply.
did u see the new hamster mages trailer?
Havent really been thinking about video games
He blinked.
uh something wrong?
No im just busy txt u later
He examined the words. What could be keeping his best friend so preoccupied that she didn't have the time for their favorite hobby? Sans pulled up a little search bar in his mind. Was she working on a new project? No, she would've told him. It must've been something more important. Recent events? Come to think of it, what had been going on lately? He blinked at his dark phone screen, willing his laggy computer of a brain to give him answers. Alphys was the royal scientist after all; if there was some kind of issue, she was among the first that Asgore would call. He wracked his spotty memory for any sign of trouble, drawing a blank. It seemed he'd blue-screened too much to recall.
Strange that he only crashed when trying to figure out- No. Best not to think about it.
He sighed, shoving the phone in his jacket pocket. He stared up at the ceiling, thoughts drifting to Papyrus. The Royal Guard had disbanded, or technically, been renamed and repurposed. The New Guard focused more on keeping the peace as opposed to capturing humans. As it was, most monsters weren't the type to cause trouble. His brother didn't care much for such a "boring" occupation, leaving Papyrus to find a new job. He'd gone through several over their short time up here, and had even gotten himself banned from one restaurant. His brother was working so hard to work hard. Sans thought that perhaps he should help out a bit.
He stood and teleported to the laundry room. The room lit with a click, revealing the spotless tile floor and the full baskets which sat upon it. He ambled over to the machine, fiddling with the dials before pressing the button to start it. He opened the box of detergent- spaghetti-scented of course- and added a full scoop. He dragged a basket close and emptied it into the tub, the sound of rushing water filling his "ears" as he did. Though they didn't truly need fabric softener, Papyrus insisted on using it regardless. So he stretched to shove the box back onto the shelf, and reached for the bottle of pasta-themed liquid.
Movement. A ringing, metallic slam. Pain.
He cried out, pulling his hand free of the fallen lid. He shook his throbbing fingers whilst muttering "ow" repeatedly, pacing clumsily around the room. He halted, instinctively hunching over to protect the injury from some unseen threat. Waves of heat assaulted his bones all the way up to his forearm. As the initial agony began to pass, he reluctantly straightened and took a look at his fingers. He found a few hairline cracks here and there, which he immediately healed.
Stupid thing. How did that even happen? He glared at the washing machine. It produced a dull growl of a noise that didn't sound quite right. He decided to ignore it. He didn't know much about household appliances anyway.
That's enough helpfulness for today, he thought, and teleported to his room.
He looked around at the mess, wondering what to do next. He wasn't in the mood for video games after that unpleasant talk with Alphys. The afternoon sun ruled out stargazing, and he was at a loss for any other fun ideas. He shrugged, then flopped into bed. He reflected on his friend's odd behavior a bit before losing himself in a mental fog.
He may have slept. He may have not. In either case, his brother's noisy arrival roused him from whatever state he'd been in. Papyrus called for him, he noted dimly, blinking at the fuzziness draped over his mind. Footsteps were fast approaching, spurring his own limbs into action. He met Papyrus at the door.
"Heya. Wassup?"
"MY HOPES AND DREAMS!" He did a little happy dance, coughed once, then posed dramatically. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL HENCEFORTH AND FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE, UNTIL A TIME IN THE FUTURE SOMEDAY-"
"Ay bonehead, get to your point already," he said in feigned annoyance.
Papyrus glared at him, then said, "I NOW WORK AT MISS MUFFET'S BAKERY! SHE SAYS SHE'LL TEACH ME ALL OF HER BAKING SECRETS!"
"Heh, that's pretty cool."
The spider lady was a bit off, but oh well. He was happy if Papyrus was.
"IT IS INDEED!"
"But why the secrets? Maybe she should post 'em on the web so other people can try 'em."
"OH MY GOSH SANS, ENOUGH! YOU'RE RUINING MY MOMENT!"
"Or maybe that's just a-"
"SANS I WILL HARM YOU!"
"-half baked idea."
He stood there chuckling as Papyrus unleashed a screech of irritation.
"WHY MUST YOU CONTINUE MAKING SUCH HORRIBLE JOKES?"
"You're smiling. They can't be that ba-"
"AND I HATE IT. AND I HATE YOU!"
"Aw, I hate you too."
Papyrus rolled his metaphorical eyes and they allowed a moment of silence to pass. It felt late; he must've zoned out for a while. A glance towards the window at the end of the hall confirmed that. The sun's final rays of light were disappearing, the sky a soft, luminous blue.
"DON'T TELL ME YOU NAPPED ALL DAY."
"Okay. I won't tell you."
"SANS DID YOU SERIOUSLY-"
"Calm down, calm down. I didn't stay in bed all day. Actually, I wanted to help you out, so I loaded the washer."
Papyrus gasped, a gloved hand at each cheekbone. "DID YOU REALLY?"
"Yeah."
"WOWIE! I'M FINALLY RUBBING OFF ON YOU!" He nearly did another dance, but caught himself, striking another pose. "THIS CALLS FOR CELEBRATION! TONIGHT, I WILL MAKE AN EXTRA SPECIAL SPAGHETTI DINNER!"
"Sound great."
It really didn't, but how could he say that aloud?
"TO THE KITCHEN!"
And with that, he pranced off and down the stairs. For a half-second, Sans was tempted to beat him there. He discarded the idea with a shrug as he realized his laggy thoughts had taken too long to form the notion. His sibling had likely already reached the kitchen.
He closed the door behind him and ambled down the hall, taking his time to descend the stairs and make his way to the dining room table. They had a smaller, more practical setup in the next room, but tended to eat in here due to Papyrus' wishes.
He laid his head down upon crossed arms, content to simply wait for dinner to be served. Later, he would head to his favorite stargazing spot and watch the sparkling lights look back at him from beyond the world's edge. Tomorrow, he would spend a few hours at his totally-legal hot dog stand, have lunch at Grillby's, maybe catch up on some reading… Things were great. Things were wonderful. Nothing was wrong.
"SANS!"
Except for that. He'd sounded belligerent, even more so that he naturally did.
"Yeah?"
Papyrus came storming in not from the kitchen, but from the living room. He was soaked, and soap bubbles littered his theatrical attire. He stood before Sans with his hands on his hips, glaring at him a moment before stomping his foot on the floor repeatedly. The bright red scarf danced about behind his ribs.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? THE WASHING MACHINE IS BROKEN!"
"It is?"
"DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!"
"But I don't… Didn't. It was-"
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT?"
"I didn't do anything," he said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "I just loaded it and then it bit me."
"IT BIT YOU?"
"Yeah!"
Buffering…
…
Okay, perhaps "bit" wasn't the best word.
"YOU TOUCHED IT AND THEN IT BROKE! SO THEREFORE! IT MUST BE YOUR FAULT!"
"It is not!"
"YES IT IS!"
"Not."
"IS!"
"Not. Glad we agree."
"ARGH! SANS HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU BREAK OUR WASHING MACHINE?"
"I didn't break it! Maybe it's your fault."
"MY FAULT? HOW COULD IT BE MY FAULT?"
"I dunno, but if you're blaming me, I'm blaming you."
"SANS, I SWEAR-"
"Well, ya really shouldn't," he said in a vain attempt to lighten the mood.
More foot stomping. "THAT'S NOT WHAT I-"
One of Mettaton's songs interrupted their bickering. Papyrus retrieved his phone from his scarf, announcing that it was Undyne as he glared daggers at Sans.
"I WILL SUPER GLUE YOU TO THE CEILING AGAIN, SANS, I WILL DO IT!" In a much more pleasant tone, he answered the call with a, "NYEH! HELLO UNYDE! I…"
He watched his brother's expression change from anger to intrigue.
"THEN WE SHALL COME IMMEDIATELY!" He hung up the phone. "I'M AFRAID WE WILL HAVE TO POSTPONE THIS ARGUMENT, BROTHER!"
"What's going on?"
"KING ASGORE HAS CALLED AN EMERGENCY MEETING!"
Ah, crap. Now he really wished he'd been paying attention.