Chapter Text
Blue? Well, that's a way to call him, he supposes! He does wear a lot of blue, after all. Still, it seems a bit silly. Just call him Sans!
Ahem.
It all started as a day like any other, if a bit of a chillier one. Snow fell from the ceiling above, gathering on rooftops, trees, and an already snowy floor. A light breeze passed Sans by as he crouched down, a curious look on his face. Gloved hands carefully caressed glowing petals -Sans had never seen a flower like this one around! It was soul-white, and glowed just like one. If Sans really concentrated, he swears he could almost feel it… pulse, like one, too. Certainly, it’s no more magical or odd than any of the other occurrences around, but something about it feels… special. He takes a photo of it, sending it to Alphys.
“wanna study it together later? this flower feels cozy!” He sends along with the message.
“Yeah!! We can go after our next session!” Is the immediate reply. A bit strange, Sans normally waits quite a while for Alphys to check her phone, a mixture of anxiety and duty keeping her away for hours on end. Fondly, Sans thinks she probably was expecting the reply from a certain someone.
“sounds good.” He sends back, and pockets his phone.
It’s a good day today. It’s a familiar day. Not in the way every single monster he met today mentioned, the feeling of deja-vu they spoke off. Familiar in the way that this day has been routine, like all others. Truth be told, Sans still doesn’t feel the same deja-vu the others do, but he’s not too surprised about it. Most monsters have something Sans doesn’t have, at least, not truly.
With a huff, Sans gets back to his feet, stretching. Boy, he feels tired already! Is it time for his afternoon nap? He looks beyond the trees, the ruins doors barely visible behind all those branches and leaves. Orange peeks between the green, white, and purple. Seems like Papyrus is visiting his friend, today. That’s good, his brother could always use more people appreciating him like he deserves. Sans has some ideas about who is beyond those doors, but he respects his brother enough not to go snooping or to hear their conversations. It’s best if he doesn’t have to lie to Toriel, as well, Sans was never too fond of keeping secrets.
But enough monologuing to himself, he has really important things to do. What important things? Oh, you know, normal sentry stuff. Pretend to keep watch. Bring a smile to someone’s face. Sleep.
Sans smiles, and starts walking. He could take a shortcut, but he does enjoy being active and on his feet, it’s just that he also enjoys being lazy and stationary. You can be both.
He hums a small tune as he walks, staring up. What are true stars like, he often wonders. Sans likes to fashion himself after what he imagines them to be like. Shining. Bearers of hope. Strong. The underground needs that. Is it narcissistic of him to think he can be a star to everyone else?
…
Goodness! Why is he thinking such things today? Honestly! Maybe the quiet is getting to him.
He quickens his pace, passing the bridge, the snowman, and finally arriving at Snowdin.
Monsters are all bundled up more than usual, and Sans himself was wearing something a bit heavier than his usual scarf -he can't feel the cold, he has no skin, but he likes the cozy feeling it gives him.
He waves at them all, and enters the almost inferno-like temperature of Muffet’s. The spiders don’t like the cold, so they overheat the bar to compensate. “Woah!” Sans gasps as he enters, loosening his scarf. All eyes turn to him, expecting. “This is n- ice !” One of the spiders taking orders throws her pencil at him, and Sans grabs it with a joyful laugh.
“This is the eighth time you've said that one in a row!” Bunny complains, waving her glass in protest. “You’re getting stale, Sansy!”
“Oh no!” Sans brings a hand to his mouth, mock hurt. “I can’t believe I’m being… roasted like this! I thought we were friends!” He approaches Bunny’s table, tapping the pencil on the surface. “You’re even lead- ing the charge against me!”
Bunny opens her mouth, but the sounds of heels and someone tutting interrupts her. Muffet, four of her arms crossed, stares down at Sans with a slightly too large smile. “Fancy seeing you here, dearie.” She sounds sickeningly sweet, and leans down, waving a small notebook in front of his face. “I wonder what you could be here for, hmm?” She’s practically pressing the notebook to his face, and Sans is well aware that this is where she keeps stack of orders and other business related ends. No doubt, she is still waiting for him to pay back for all the honey he loaned once. What was he supposed to do, not get his brother a lifetime of the stuff?
“Dearie? Sorry, I don’t think I fit the bill , that’s more like Gyftrot!” Sans side-steps Muffet with a twirl, dramatic for the fun of it, giving the pencil back to a waiting spider while at it. “I was just here to keep tabs on how everyone’s doing, I’ll be going now!” Still with a grin, he waves and books it to the door.
He’ll pay that bill eventually! Just… not today.
That’s one thing done from his small list, though. Groan as they might, the air inside had definitely lifted up. The next two things is his little list for the day often come hand-in-hand.
Heading over to Waterfall, Sans takes a moment to appreciate the transition from snow to wet march, the way it gradually melts as the humid, cool but also hot temperature takes over. As kids, Sans and Alphys have tried digging holes on Snowdin’s ground to see if the earth was the same calming blue in Waterfall, but the Snow seemed never ending. At the time they left the explanation at ‘Shrugs. Magic.’, but he thinks it would be a fun experiment to try again. They could even bring Undyne along! The scientist would have a blast trying to blow all the snow away, surely.
Though, Sans would invite her mostly for Alphys’ sake.
Soon enough, he arrives at the entrance proper, giving a wave and big smile to the monster sitting next to an echo-flower. He enters his snow-covered station, and plops himself down on the chair. Sans spends… maybe two seconds looking serious, before laying down on top of his arms and keeping half open sockets on the lookout.
It’s not like anything ever happens. He doesn’t need to keep watch, not really. Everyday is the same, deja-vu or not.
Hidden beneath his arms, his smile slips out. Without friends or interesting thoughts to distract him, his mind wanders off to more dangerous waters.
Sans almost wishes he felt the same as everyone else. Then, he would have a reason to feel as tired, as hopeless, as… resigned as he does. Everyday is a new day, yet Sans feels like he is always doing the same thing, repeating motions without reason, simply because they are familiar and safe. Because everyone else needs them to be. Alphys is always so nervous, so guilt-ridden, Sans is very much aware that sometimes his visits are the highlight of her entire week. Papyrus is stressed, feeling inferior even as he tries to keep a brave face, how can Sans not keep everything lighthearted and remind him of his gifts everyday? Toriel is tired, a weight laying down on her shoulders, of course he visits her as often as possible, an arsenal of puns at the ready.
The monsters are fatigued and losing hope. They need someone to rely on, and Sans is happy to be that person. He is.
But sometimes… Well, sometimes, Sans wishes he could just. Not leave the bed. Forget about everyone and everything. Just sleep for as long as it takes for everything and everyone to feel okay again.
Sleep… It does sound nice. It was part of his plan, wasn’t it? Sans lets his sockets fall fully closed, and his mind drifts off to quiet darkness.
…
….
…..
“SANS! You lazybones, how long have you been sleeping here?” Is what Sans awakes to, too used to it to be startled by his brother’s loud voice.
He lazily opens a socket, grinning sheepishly up at Papyrus. “Just a few minutes.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Papyrus squints at Sans, but then sighs loudly. “Come on, brother. Didn’t you want to make dinner today? It’s almost night time!” Papyrus winces the slightest bit as he mentions dinner, and Sans has to stifle a laugh. How long is Papyrus going to put up with Sans’ purposefully bad cooking before he admits to hating it?
But… is it really night time? Sans slept for longer than he thought.
He lifts up his arms, smile going from sheepish to sly. “I do, but I think I’ve frozen to my seat. Can’t get up, Paps.”
Papyrus sighs once more, world weary. “We’re not even in Snowdin yet, Sans. You are not frozen!” All the same, Papyrus lifts him up, carrying Sans like a sack of potatoes. “But I suppose this is no trouble for someone like me, nyeh heh! Let’s warm you back up, brother!”
“You’re so cool!” Sans exclaims, a laugh already in his voice. “I don’t think you’ll be able to heat me back up, though.”
“Of course I can, Sans! Why wouldn’t I…” Papyrus trails off. Realization sinks in. “Sans!” He lifts Sans up to shake him up.
Laughter, loud and embarrassing, leaves him, Sans lifts a hand and he is softly caressing flower petals.
The flower glows faintly, calming, gentle.
A gust of wind blows by, and he blinks. What? But…
He looks around. He’s back in the forest again.