Chapter Text
Of all the outcomes he could have predicted, of all the half-formed inklings of familiarity that itched at his brain and all the twinges of deja vu that he was plagued by, of all the trajectories he could have calculated... this, despite being, arguably, not the worst, this was one of the least likely situations he imagined. At the very least, he never expected it to come on so quiet, and so subtle, and so strong.
Of course, he could have - and did - forsee the human's disappearance. That was almost an inevitability, one way or another, humans never remained underground for long. Nor was he too surprised by the various casualties along the way. As heartbreaking - and disappointing - the losses were, they were within expected parameters. The loss of the King, the loss of the Queen, the loss of the captain of the Royal Guard. All tragic, and all preventable. But there was nothing (he told himself) that he could have done about that.
And as dire as the situation was, it was almost a relief. There no longer seemed to be the same darkness lurking, impending. No dread dawning on the horizon. No (and he was hesitant to believe so, as if, in thinking it, he would be daring the universe to prove him wrong) blackout of the timeline. As far as he could tell, now, the universe would not be ending. For the first time in a long time, he was free to stop focusing on the what-if, and instead contend with the here-and-now.
Which was timely, because the here-and-now was REALLY concerning.
With King Asgore gone, without Queen Toriel, or Captain Undyne, or even Royal Scientist Alphys to take charge, the underground and its monsters were confused, listless, and desperate for guidance. And at first, it seemed they wouldn't get it. But there was one constant. One thing that refused to change, that was familiar, and dependable, and as Sans realised one idle day, slumped over on his couch in tired dismay, and bathed in the gaudy pink and purple light coming from the tv, something increasingly... ubiquitous.
Had Mettaton always looked so... mesmerising? Despite the premier of his new body, his old form still featured prominently, and even moreso now that he had launched near-dozens of new programs, to keep everyone in "high spirits". Not a day went by without Sans seeing that flat, brightly-lit panelled face, and not a day went by where (very soon after) he wondered for a moment if those illuminated squares had always seemed to, just barely, flicker and pulse in such a soothing manner.
And after that, he'd always clench his eyesockets shut and rub at his temples to chase away the odd brain-ache and fatigue, and the even more odd feeling of vague embarrassment from how frequently he found himself needing to do that. Normally he would turn the tv off and find something else to do, spend some time with his brother, or hang out at Grillby's, sell bizarre foodstuffs, or nap in his sentry station. But one day, as soon as he'd flicked the tv off and casually dropped the remote control aside, he heard a knock on the door.
After spending a couple of moments considering ignoring it, another knock suggested that the perpetrator wouldn't accept his lack of response. He got up, shuffled over to the door, and opened it just in time to see the little Monster Kid lunge forward, attempting a third knock with their head. Sans' jacket caught the brunt of the blow, and he tried not to laugh too much at their faceplant into his torso.
"hey kid. that's no way to get ahead in life."
Monster Kid gave him a playful headbutt in lieu of a verbal response, and looked up to show him the letter delicately held in their mouth. He took it and gave it a once over. 'Dear Sans' was bedazzled onto the front. He reflexively grimaced.
"Yo!! Special delivery for Mr. Sans, direct from the capital! And directly from me! Man, my parents are gonna be so psyched with my summer job!"
"nice work, kid. you're gonna go places with that attitude."
"Yeah, I go a lot of places! This is from Mr. Mettaton. He asked me to give that to you personally. He's no Undyne, but... He's working hard, like I am!"
Sans nodded in acknowledgement and looked them up and down for a moment, noting their conspicuously black-and-pink striped shirt, and was given pause, until Monster Kid tapped their feet in an excited and slightly impatient little jig.
"ah. yeah. thanks."
Sans dug around in his jacket pockets, then his pants pockets, and finally managed to retrieve a couple of G. He offered the coins, and the monster kid picked them up between their teeth.
"here ya go, buddy. don't spend it all in one place. unless it's at my 'dog stand, heh."
The little courier gave him another thankful hop and nod, and trotted off. Sans glanced again at the letter with trepidation. It wasn't as if it had been put into, onto, or under his mailbox, which would have made it easy to ignore. It was put directly into his hands, and it had an unpleasant weight to it, like he was holding a sparkly Pandora's Box. After a lengthy consideration, he leaned over and was about to place it on the ground to be forgotten about when he heard a familiar clatter behind him.
"SANS! PLEASE STOP STANDING IN THE DOORWAY LIKE THIS, YOU'RE GOING TO LET ALL THE SNOW BLOW IN AND COVER THE FLOOR!"
Sans straightened and turned his head, almost sheepish at getting caught, to see Papyrus gesturing dramatically to the house entrance with a hand on his hip.
"so, uh, bro, you're saying you don't want the house to get... snowed in?"
"... AUGH! SNOWDIN, HOME OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS, SNOWDIN, HOME OF THE SNOW-BASED PUN NAME? HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS SOONER???"
"i dunno, paps. maybe you, uh-" He shifted slightly to hide the letter slightly. "couldn't see the forest for the trees? but i think you should chill out about it. don't let it get you r-"
"'RATTLED'!! YES. FINE. PLEASE JUST CLOSE THE DOOR. WHAT IF YOUR PET ROCK GOT OUT AND ESCAPED?"
"aw, heck, you're right. thanks for keepin' me responsible, bro."
"YOU'RE WELCOME! THANK YOU FOR THE THANK YOU, BROTHER!"
Papyrus puffed out his chest, perked back up by the appreciation, and hopped back onto the creaking couch, Sans closing the door and following suit after inconspicuously tucking the letter into the inside of his jacket and trying not to look too uneasy at the tv lit up again.
"whatcha watchin'?"
"MTT'S NEW ART SHOW! FIRST HE SHOWS US HOW TO PAINT A PORTRAIT OF HIM, AND THEN, WE GET TO WATCH THE PAINT DRY! IT'S RIVETING."
"'riveting', huh? a robot paint show?"
"YES, THAT WAS THE THING THAT I SAID!"
Sans couldn't help but let his grin inch wider for a moment.
"IN FACT, I'D GO SO FAR AS TO SAY, IT'S POSITIVELY HYPNOTIC!"
His grin faltered.