Chapter Text
Sans is cleaning.
He’s always cleaning, really, at this job, because that’s the only thing they can get him to do. He’s too forgetful for stocking, too quiet to be a checkout. But too hardworking to let down.
So he cleans.
Since they’ve hired him, almost all of the other cleaners have been dropped. He doesn’t mind that, necessarily, because his pay rate went up, but he does mind that several people are jobless thanks to him.
Ah, well. Survival of the fittest.
Just thinking that phrase causes Sans to shudder horribly, the mop in his hand vibrating. “Survival of the fittest”... heh. And yet he survived, even if he was definitely not the fittest.
One of his hands slowly reaches up to brush the cavernous hole in his skull. An entire piece of his head that was just... missing. How oddly fitting to his situation.
His phalanges gently and carefully trace the jagged edges of the scar. Slow, like everything else he did. Carefully, like how he spoke these days (when he spoke at all).
The bell dings, announcing someone at the front door. Sans’s skull turns mildly in that direction, confusion setting in. Most people don’t go grocery shopping at night. That’s why he’s on this shift, after all. Less chance of being seen.
The person who walks in is a young woman. Definitely odd to see a female alone at nighttime, Sans’s brain registers eventually. She’s walking with an air of confidence, and once the door closes behind her, her shoulders slump in what looks like relief.
Sans tilts his head to the side, feeling vaguely confused. He wonders if she needs help with her selection and then wonders when someone will come to help her.
It’s been a full minute of her searching the shelves when he remembers that he’s the only one in the store right now, and therefore the only person allowed to help.
Ah, the unfortunate job of customer service.
Sans walks to her, slow as always, and is surprised when she doesn’t hear his footsteps. Maybe it’s the slippers.
When he finally reaches the young woman, she turns and spots him, flinching back. Sans doesn’t respond, he’s used to that. Most people react with fear at his haggard appearance and blood red eye light.
But, to his surprise, she then smiles. And waves.
Waves? To him? ... Odd.
He stares for a few seconds, most likely making her uncomfortable, before he remembers why he came over here in the first place. His phalanges clench in his pockets as he prepares to talk again.
“...Can I help you ...find anything?” He asks slowly.
The woman is still staring at him, growing more uncomfortable by the moment. Oops. He should’ve known better... she must’ve only been waving to be polite. Now he’s just standing here awkwardly, because she hasn’t answered his question, and he still hasn’t helped.
Several seconds of awkward silence pass, and as she lifts up one of her hands and opens her mouth, Sans tilts his head to the side to apologize.
“Sorry. Guess you don’t need help.” And he waves at her, which only seemed fair because that’s what she’d done. And as he very slowly walks away, he could feel the woman’s eyes on his back.
Oh, well. No harm, no fowl. It wasn’t like he had to see her again, Sans reasons to himself. The mop returns to his hands and he resumes cleaning the tile floor. An awkward silence was definitely not the worst thing that could happen.
He wasn’t expecting to see her again the next night.
She didn’t talk to him, as expected, but she did watch him as he swept on the opposite end of the grocery store. He hoped he wasn’t making her uncomfortable. It would be unfortunate to lose his job.
The next time he sees her, it’s a week later. Once again, the woman hurries in late at night, and once again, she stares at him. Much less so then the other nights, but it still happens.
Sans offers her assistance, but she ignores him once again, so he sighs and resigns himself to his fate.
You just can’t reason with someone once they’ve made up their mind about monsters. At least she was quiet about it... there had been Humans in the past who yelled. Sans winced at the memory.
Yeah, you can’t change someone’s opinion once they decided on it.