Chapter Text
What the hell was he doing here? What was his brother thinking sending him off on his own like this? It was dangerous and foolish! Sure he was nothing more than a simple errand boy now but this was ridiculous; to attend to this task alone?!
Looking down at the hastily scrawled list in his hand, Sans allowed a frustrated grumble to slip from behind his teeth. He rubbed the back of his head, the unique sound helping to quell the anxiety that had been building since the day began.
Steeling himself, he walked out from the alleyway he had been standing in and toward the small shop. He had barely placed a hand on the door when he was shoved aside. A low growl escaped his throat as a tall man shoved past. Sans held his tongue and headed in to search for his own items.
Hearing the jingle of the door behind him, Sans found himself pausing to survey the shop and remember where most of the items he needed were. Having been here several times before it should be easy, but it had always been in the company of his brother. Papyrus would stand watch, glaring at anyone who dared allow their gaze to wander to either brother while Sans quickly gathered what was needed and paid. This was a new venture altogether.
Sweat already dotted his brow as he stepped further to face the task at hand. The shop was small enough; formerly what appeared to be a gas stations it was repurposed by a local entrepreneur to take advantage of the recent needs of the city's new residents. The windows had bars but minimal grime to obscure view. The floor and shelves seemed well-kept as if some pride had been taken in the upkeep of the otherwise cheaply renovated shop.
Lazily making his way to the second aisle, the few items he needed were within arm’s reach. He let his sight pass over the various products and felt his mouth curl into a sneer; how funny that things previously prized and repaired by his people were now so easily available. Electronics, various cords and cables, thin blankets, and books of random topics from cooking to fantasy stocked the shelves.
Feeling like he was being watched, Sans glanced up and saw the man who had shoved past him staring before speaking, “What are you looking at freak?”
Sans let out a guffaw before turning away, “could ask you the same thing.”
Within a second Sans was spun by his shoulder and the collar of his red shirt was balled up in a fist, “Run that by me again demon?!”
“it takes one to know one fleshy. now you mind putting me down before i do something reckless?” A devious grin spreading across this face.
The man pulled Sans closer, shaggy hair hung down partly obscuring his eyes, but it was clear he was glaring daggers. His shirt and shorts looked like they were being held hostage and screamed for the refuge of a laundry mat. The ensemble seemed more by choice than necessity as the hodgepodge of tattoos along his arms and face didn’t have a touch of dirt upon them. And his odor was overwhelming. It was as if he had rolled in a bed of those dangling air fresheners before going out; was this how he warded off others?
“Listen freak, you can't hurt me and I ain't afraid of you. You're nothing more than a walking talking Halloween prop. You're so stupid looking you can't even whore yourself out to a damn science class.”
Sans laughed, a low rumble of a chuckle. The guy had a point, he was pretty awkward looking. The white lights in his eyes that served as pupils suddenly vanished before being replaced by a ring of fiery red and yellow in the left socket. A wisp of red appeared in his left palm and crept up his phalanges. The man gasped releasing his hold to fall to his knees and clutch his chest.
“let’s clear things up buddy, i don't give a shit who you think you are, but it's going to take more than a little name calling to scare me. in fact, i suggest you start making it a habit of fearing my kind, got it?”
Now bracing himself on his hands and knees, the stranger made a displeased noise before pointedly spitting at Sans' sneakers. “I'll never be scared of garbage like you!”
“That’s enough!”
The two of them ceased their posturing at the sound of a shout from behind the counter. As if coordinated, they looked up to see the shopkeeper approaching the squabbling pair.
Directing his attention to the man on the floor, “Mark, you come in here every other day and all you do is antagonize my paying customers. I am not some piece of your territory to patrol. Get out.” A stern look upon his face and a finger pointing to the exit gave an air of authority to the shopkeeper. He did not raise his voice, but the way he spoke he had no reason to.
The light in Sans' hand dissipated and the white pinpricks returned to his eyes as he watched the man get up. With a glower, the one now known to him as 'Mark' retreated.
“You should not encourage him. I do not take sides; I just run a simple business. Do not make me do that again.”
Sans' smile returned as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “no problem pal. but why do it in the first place?”
The shopkeeper ran his gaze up and down the patron before him, “I see you in here enough, I know your business is reliable.” Pausing to deliberate he added, “however, this is the first time I have seen you alone, where is your friend?”
Sans paused, hoping to give the shopkeeper as little information about his personal life as possible.. In fact the less anyone knew about him the better, “he's busy. figured I could take care of a few things.”
Giving a carefree shrug, he hoped the man didn’t see through the façade disguising his anxiety. He was a bit shaken up still but wasn’t going to let him know it. His left hand fidgeted in his jacket pocket.
As if sensing the apprehension the shopkeeper smiled and extended a hand. “My name is Samir. You are always welcome in my shop so long as you remain civil here.”
Eye sockets narrowing, Sans contemplated the offered hand before extending his own to accept it. “the name's sans, sans the skeleton.”
----------
He felt like walking for a bit after the exchange in the shop. He was used to humans slinging slurs at him, shit he usually expected it. But the shopkeeper, that was different. That one didn’t seem intimidated by him at all; maybe he was used to seeing the skeleton brothers.
Bag slung over his shoulder, Sans made his way back. Not back home, he wasn’t sure if he could ever call it home, but it was adequate shelter. It was a roof and some walls, and presently it was all they had. It was the only above ground community of Monsters. Oh sure, they were free now, but were they?
The media had been quick to the scene when they emerged from the Underground, practically swarming the first few individuals. King Asgore Dremurr had been quick to demand their attention and request an audience with the humans’ ruler. The Governor was soon there, likely fearful of allowing the monsters into the city and instead opting to meet on Mt. Ebott. Asgore was firm in demanding a place for his people, but the delegations were rather disappointing.
They were given an old neighborhood that had been recently condemned, mainly consisting of one or two-storied town houses. Their condition was deplorable. It seems humans waste no time taking what they can for themselves and as such the houses had been rendered to little more than shells. No electricity, no running water. Humanity hadn’t changed much it seems since the war those hundreds of years ago; Sans let out a low chuckle at the thought.
Allowing his vision to wander as he walked, he took in the sight of the run-down city around him. Buildings were shoved side by side, adorned with strange brightly colored markings. Some were obviously sets of letters, likely some sort of identifier of the individual who left them there. Were humans really so desperate to leave their mark on the world? It must have something to do with how short their lives are, he mused. Monsters generally didn’t live all that much longer, but only a few generations had passed after the barrier went up while it seems a dozen human generations had come and gone.
He lifted his head out of his thoughts and scoffed as he passed through the familiar gate. The humans had been quick to surround the neighborhood with a basic chain link fence, and had the nerve to refer to it as a ‘gated community.’ The only entrance was manned 24 hours a day by a less than enthused human who spent most of his time reading or playing on his phone rather than actually attending to his job. The government had even enacted a curfew on the small community, ‘for the safety of monsters’ they claimed. This was the only time the guard at the gate got any entertainment, threatening any who dared violate the standards set.
At least he wasn’t still stuck underground like the rest of those poor saps. Only a select number of monsters were allowed on the surface for now. Those chosen to inhabit this new place were those of importance: any close to the king, the royal guard, the royal scientist of course, and a few merchants to get the community started. And so here he was, dragged into this mess because his brother, Papyrus, was second in command in the royal guard.
Huffing out of frustration, the bag found itself tossed on the stoop Sans had made a habit of lazing upon. No reason to go inside, so it was time to park it here and just watch. He had quite a bit of experience of simply sitting and watching, he had been a sentry before after all. Sure it had been at the demand of his brother, ‘DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH YOURSELF, THIS WORLD DOESN’T TOLERATE MONSTERS WHO CAN’T FIND THEIR PLACE!’ Well, this is as good a place as any now. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he let his head fall back with a loud ‘thunk’ against the front door.
What was he suppose to do now? Not right now this very moment per se, but with himself in this new world. It’s difficult to learn to live again after simply existing for so long.
Slowly his eye sockets drooped, his mind full of what life used to be like. Before the surface, before he was a sentry, before the accident… The thrumming of his soul slowed and an insouciant sleep took over.