My sweet little appartement is now ready for welcoming my complaints about Paris! Also… BLESS THE VACUUM. My sister told me a vacuum was too much for the surface I have to clean, but heck it isn't! Well… She also told me I didn't need to buy actual lamps for the kitchen and guess what I did anyway XD At least now, it's nice and cosy and full of my stuff so it feels like home ^^ Yet, I'm still in my parents house -.-

Anyway, here's the chapter!

Chapter XXXIII

And now?

Run, Dash right. Avoid the Monster. Avoid the wall too. Quickly go down the stairs. Pant. Pant a lot. Settle for walking instead.

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At this rate, I won't be killed by Monsters…

The heat is enough!

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Sans has never been a runner — it's not that he's bad at it, just that he would rather avoid it yet somehow always ends up needing it — but the heat is certainly not helping. He wishes he could take this damn sweater off! In truth, nothing is stopping him: he can take it off, but he most definitely shouldn't. Unless he has a death wish, that is.

He doesn't have a death wish. Not yet.

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However, walking from the hot dog street shop to the university takes forever! And he doesn't have the patience for waiting half an hour — yes, half an hour is forever — to know how things went with Gaster! So let's take the bus. Except buses don't exist in the Underground. Who thought you could come to regret the disaster that is public transportation?

So Sans walks, at a steady pace, and soon finds himself running again. Upon noticing it, he slows down. After all, he'd better not play with this heat…

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In a nearby park, he can hear kids playing in fountains. Two Monsters are sitting on a bench in the shadow of a tree — watching their children, he guesses. They are laughing together, until one of them calls a small water elemental. The child is reluctant to come at first, doing his best to ignore the calls before complying. The adult Monster seems to check on him — what, Sans doesn't have a clue. Satisfied, his parent lets him go with a few words Sans cannot hear.

Under his mask, a soft smile appears — before disappearing just as quickly. There are things he would rather avoid thinking about… It has been months, yet he still doesn't dare thinking of this. He cannot think about it. Not yet… Not… Not ever. Not anymore.

The sound of a splash, and laughs: one of the children has pushed another into the water. Upon actually looking at them, it's not a child but a grown up Monster — Sans can swear he heard him being called "dad" by the child he pushed. Typical father, Sans thinks.

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Eh! He would do- No.

He would have done that before…

Yeah, before.

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Look away. Keep on walking. However, Sans cannot keep his mind from drifting away: back to Papyrus, to Gaster, to Alphys… To what could happen next.

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I kept my promise.

Paps has his father now…

So…

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He presses his eyes close, biting his lips.

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What place does that leave for me?

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Sure, Gaster apparently finds an interest in him, but it isn't necessarily something to be rejoiced in. Reading a skeleton's face proves to be far more challenging than reading a human's one, and Gaster isn't half as expressive as Papyrus. Sans cannot tell what the nature of this interest is, and it is far from reassuring him — quite the contrary, actually. For all he knows, he could be worth nothing more than a lab rat… Yet, Gaster is his best chance at learning about the jumble his soul has become. He is a scientist, after all. A soul scientist. He has to know more than Grillby and Alphys!

He has to…

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Sans needs to know. He needs Gaster to tell him more. He needs real and factual answers. For months, he has been forced to always move forward, never getting more than guesses. He supposed he was fine. He supposed Papyrus was fine. He supposed it wouldn't make much of a difference. He hoped it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Then he had been forced to see those differences.

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It started with the glowing — something he later discovered was quite unsettling to see on a human face when he got a look at his own reflexion. It's quite ironic, now that he thinks of it: after all, eyes are said to be windows to the soul.

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But it didn't stop there.

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Then, there were the bones — extremely demanding at first, but slowly becoming easier and easier to make. He won't lie, if the effort had turned him down at first, the idea of being capable of magic was something he had been quite fond of at first. It was reassuring to know he had something to protect himself with — until it became scary. It was too easy. Too easy to forget he wasn't as strong as he would have wished. Too easy to make a mistake. Too easy to lose control. Too easy to hurt. And, just like that, he wasn't sure he could handle all of this anymore. Especially when the only thing which had stopped him wasn't the morality of his actions, but the idea of scaring Papyrus — of disappointing him.

He doesn't want to know what he could have done.

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There were other things, too. More or less small details, some he might be the only one noticing. Papyrus had pointed out his hair didn't grow with their usual brown color — and he had later noticed it merely was the most obvious change. He didn't like it, and he still doesn't: the white contrasts too much with his skin. It makes him look sick, unless it's everything else that does — perhaps the need of a haircut doesn't help either. It makes him look… unnatural. And he hates it.

Sometimes he even wonders if, one day, he will wake up to a reflection which isn't his.

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Sometimes, the words of Grillby echoe in the depth of his mind.

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"About what worries me… Since your soul is fusing with the fragments Papyrus gave you, well…"

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Those words he had first brushed off laughing...

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"Spit it out, Grillbz. Unless you tell me that I'm turning into some kind of marshmallow, I think I'll be able to handle it!"

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Those words which were slowly becoming a reality...

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"Eh! No, I don't think you will. But... I don't know if you'll remain human either…"

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They scared him even more.

Because he knows it now for sure: he won't be able to handle it.

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The children cannot be heard anymore, the park is now too far. The streets are silent, way too much — the Monsters withdrew to more chilly places when the heat became oppressive. At least, it's still too early for Aphys's mother to be home… It's a good thing: Sans isn't sure he could handle a conversation with her. He isn't sure he can handle one with Alphys either… The door in front of him is now one he hesitates to knock on. Of course, he wants to ask Papyrus how it was — now, he knows his brother probably spent three hours drawing because of the exam, but he insisted so much in the morning Sans just has to know. He would like to thank Alphys too. After all, they did make her late and he knows she didn't need to be more stressed than she already was.

Sans takes a deep breath, forces an almost happy expression his mask hides anyway, and knocks.

It takes about a dozen seconds before he hears movement inside, and the door creaks open.

Me, writing the chapter: I should probably address Sans's feelings about all of this at some point… It's something he has to deal with in this arc after all. Oh well, look at that, a park! What a plot convenience! After all, who doesn't think about existential questions when walking? Not me! And not Sans either, because I'm the one bullsh- erm, writing the story! The poor boy needs something to do after all, last time I checked he doesn't have earphones (or a phone, for that matter).

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Wait... Is that cat hairs all over my pj's?