Chapter Text
The storm was raging at full force when it finally startled you awake. A loud crack through the blackened sky jolted you from your otherwise dreamless rest. Your left hand searched aimlessly in the dark before finding your smartphone on a table.
A quick button tap revealed it to be only 2 o'clock in the morning. You groaned to yourself, draping your right arm over your eyes. There was no way you were going to be able to get back to sleep now. Your chest ached pitifully as you gave in to your awakened state. You were wearing only a white tank top as you threw your legs over the side of the couch.
You basically slept in your living room now since you didn't sleep very well confined to your bedroom. As you flicked on the table lamp you drearily took in your surroundings. A bottle of sleeping pills and a plate of half eaten pasta sat on your living room table a couple feet from you, looking much less appetizing than it did 2 hours ago. Clothes were strewn about the room and hanging off of furniture, some fast food garbage laid untouched, amazon delivery boxes littered the corners of the room, and video game cases dotted every surface.
Your small apartment consisted of a decently sized living room, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom across from the bedrooms, and a dining area that connected to an open kitchen which you were determined to keep clean. After a painful week of killing what you thought were hundreds of fruit flies, you learned very quickly that your kitchen at least needed to stay immaculate.
You stood from your old lumpy couch and twisted left then right, cracking your spine until you were satisfied. You were instantly rewarded with a different kind of back pain as you wobbled into your kitchen for a glass of water. You had to be ready for class in, oh lets see, 8 hours. You sighed and brushed your hair out of your face.
You hated whatever the hell sleep disorder you suffered from. Either you slept for 2-4 hours, or not at all, and your body never wanted to rest at a normal time. Oh no no, it had to be at times when you weren't allowed to sleep, like during class, or work, or meetings.
You could feel your chest tightening with anxiety and decided it was time to go for a walk. It always seemed to help you relax when you went on walks, something about getting up and moving around helped ease your stress away. Plus, storms didn't really bother you, maybe you would get hit by lightning and all your problems would be over. You silently chastised yourself for that last thought as you threw on some sweats, grabbed your keys and wallet, put on flip flops and marched out of the door with an umbrella.
It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be outside. Sure it was pouring rain, there was lightning cracking every 2 minutes, and you could barely see 2 feet in front of you - okay it was not your best idea to go for a walk during a storm, but bad decisions plagued your daily life. Luckily though it was a warm night so it wasn't all that unpleasant. You trudged on for a few more minutes, letting your thoughts wander a bit.
You reminisced about how you ended up in this town. You originally moved here to attend a specific college you had your eye on. It offered a computer science course that would allow you to learn everything you needed to create websites, code video games, and even animate to a degree.
You had always been a bit of a computer geek so you finally decided to pursue a career encompassing that passion. Everything usually came fairly easily to you, but this course was different. You started to get frustrated when you couldn't understand how to manipulate some coding and you were beginning to feel like maybe you should just give up. Maybe you would never succeed, maybe you should drop out and go work retail somewhere for the rest of your life. You tried to stop moping but your chest ached....you sighed.
The rain went from pouring buckets to a comfortable shower. You noticed not a single car was out on the road and it was the most quiet it has been for a while. The last month has had what felt like never ending construction on the road in front of your apartment. That same stretch of road had been fixed 4 months ago and here they were, at it again.
You just wished all the construction workers would be sucked into one of those random sinkholes.
You stopped walking and rubbed your forehead irritably. You didn't mean to have such negative thoughts all the time. The construction workers were just doing their job and here you were, thinking up ways they could die. You sighed and looked at your phone...2:23 am.
You looked up and realized you came to a stop outside of one of the newer establishments that had been built in your neighborhood. It was a bar, and above the set of steps that lead inside was the name "Grillby's", lit up in red neon.
You stared at the sign for a moment, listening to the electricity buzz through the name as rain pitter-pattered around you. You were never into the bar scene. All it ever landed you was awkward conversations and feeling of not belonging. You considered stopping in anyways though, just to check it out... Maybe kill some time.
As you debated with yourself about going in, the tinkling of a bell sounded. The decision had been made for you as a large white dog in armor stepped out of the door and noticed you, their tongue hanging lazily out of the side of their maw. They cocked their head to the side and stepped over to make room for you and held the door open. You noticed the bell hanging down from above the door and then met the dog monsters eyes.
It had been about 5 years since the barrier came down, and monsters had basically mingled with society pretty well. There were still idiot assholes who didn't approve of monsters coexisting with humans and there were issues in the media talking about tragedies all the time. You were sure there were other, bigger, problems that they had to deal with, but politics were never your thing. Overall, you had only ever met one monster that gave you a problem, and even they weren't as horrible as some of the humans in your life. You had never been humanity's biggest fan, so when monsters made their appearance you took to their side just about immediately.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a sudden, questioning whimper. The dog monster was shifting uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes. You felt embarrassed that you had been standing there for a moment too long, just staring at the gentle-pup. You smiled and stepped inside the bar giving a quiet "thank you" to the dog monster as they left.
You felt some tension leave your shoulders as the warm colors of the interior mixed with the smokey scent inside made you feel at home. What didn't make you feel at home was the ever noticeable 'squelch' and 'splop' sound your flip flops made on the hardwood as you walked. Four steps inside and you nearly slipped. Out of frustration you pulled off your flip flops and decided to go barefoot the rest of the way up to the bar.
As you sat on a bar stool you were immediately greeted by an orange-flamed fire monster. He was wearing a collared white shirt with a black vest over top. His sleeves were rolled up to above where his elbows would be and a pair of glasses were suspended in his flames. You wondered why his shirt didn't catch on fire. The word 'magic' was supplied by your brain as he stood across from you and you felt a gentle warmth radiate from his flames. Though he had no eyes you felt as if he was scrutinizing you. You cleared your throat.
"Ahem...uhm...I h-hope it's okay I came in? Are you closing soon? I know it's late, I can leave, just let me know..." your voice came out quieter than you would have liked due to disuse. You were just noticing how soaked you ended up from the rain as you dripped down onto the polished floor. The umbrella was pretty useless in that storm, you mused.
The bartender shook his head and picked up a glass, cleaning it with a white rag as he answered. His voice came out mildly raspy and deep, like he had just awakened from sleep himself. The flames he was made of seemed to make pops and cracks as he spoke, reminding you very much of a bonfire.
"I usually close up at 2:00 am but tonight's closing hour has been extended a bit due to-" he was cut off suddenly by the door slamming open. The bell rattled so intensely you thought it would fall off of its little hinges.
A couple of drunk humans walked in then, barely making it up the steps. The guy, kinda short, no taller than 5'5 sauntered in with a woman hanging onto his arm for dear life. It seemed he might have been wearing a tie at some point tonight but it was long gone now, replaced with a myriad of smeared lipstick marks along his neck. In your opinion, his face looked like it hit every branch on his descent from the ugly tree. He smoothed his free hand through his dark, disheveled, greasy hair. The woman was was taller than him, blonde, and had blue eyes that looked more glazed than a doughnut. Her makeup was smeared and she honestly looked like shit. She was probably fairly attractive normally.
You snorted at the scene and rested your elbow on the bar, your chin sitting in your palm. The drunk couple peered around and the blonde stood up taller. She squinted while taking in her surroundings and began to whine.
"Sssssteve.. why arewe aht some fuckin monsssterr...monssster......" she struggled for a moment trying to think of the right word."....shithole?!" And you instantly retract the thought that she could ever be attractive. The blonde could barely stand at this point and somehow managed to make a disgusted look as she slurred her words. You were 99% sure she either forgot the word "bar" or she was too stupid to have ever learned it to begin with.
"Cool yer tits babe, I know a monster 'ere, is cool is cool.." he trailed off as he scanned the bar. His eyes fell onto you and you tensed up.
You prayed vehemently that he would look away, you hoped he wouldn't walk towards you, you cursed to yourself when he sat down next to you at the bar. Fucking fuck. WHY? You don't step into a bar for years and within 3 minutes you already have unwelcome company. You screamed internally and plastered on a neutral expression, watching out of your peripheral vision as the two sat on the bar stools next to you. The blonde was obviously struggling to balance in her seat to the left of her date but "Steve" paid her no mind.
"Well wouldja lookie 'ere! Some decent company in 'ere af'erall! Wuzza cutie like you doin n' dumps like this?" Steve grinned crookedly at you and winked, his breath reeking of alcohol. Your stomach twisted at the overwhelming odor and you grimaced. He's probably been wasted for hours..
"Don't talk to me please" your voice came out flat and monotone, hopefully giving him the hint to buzz off. You have had just about zero sleep and your patience was too low to deal with drunken racist assholes.
He gaped for a moment, his brain functioning even slower due to the alcohol but then an offended look crossed his features. He formed a scowl and scooted closer to you. His head bobbed a bit unsteadily as he tried to refocus his thoughts.
"Whoa whoa whoa missy, what kind a manners is at? I'm just tryin' to be nice n' make conversation! I thought humans should stick t'gether! You ain't gotta be a bitch 'bout it!" His right pointer finger jabbed out towards your chest and you had to lean back a bit to avoid it. His little tirade caused him to spit a little as he talked too, and you started to feel anger boiling in your chest.
You laughed a bit bitterly.
"A bitch? I told you politely not to 'speak to me'." You emphasize the last few words as you stood up from your bar stool. There had to be somewhere else you could sit and get away from this mess. You noticed you still had a good couple inches on him even though you were standing up. Steve opened his mouth as if he were going to say something but you beat him to the punch and dug into him.
"You come in here like you own the place, act rudely, and insinuate that IM being a bitch?! You can go fuck yourself dude..." your words drip venom as you stare him in the eyes for a second and look over his shoulder. A smirk spread across your face of its own accord.
"Actually...it looks like that's exactly what you'll be doing tonight..." You lazily point one finger past him and he blearily follows your gaze. The blonde has passed out at the bar magnificently. Her long hair is fanned out around her, her face is down on the counter and she's drooling. Your brain tells you that this moment needs to be saved so you pull out your cellphone and take a quick pic. Steve notices and slaps your smartphone roughly out of your hands. Your phone loudly clatters to the floor, its case flying off of it and the battery skittering across the hardwood floors.
"HEY YOU-" you growl but get cut off by the fuming shorty.
"YA FUCKING CUNT! You think yer some kind of smart-ass Eh?" You instinctively recoil slightly from his raised voice, wincing. Steve ungracefully stands from his stool and your heart stutters for a moment, surprised. As much as you'd love to punch this guy square in the jaw, you had never really been in a fist fight before. 'Do I really have to-' your thoughts get cut off as he swings at your face. You managed to step back and dodge the hay-maker. The momentum was strong enough that he loses his balance and stumbles sideways. If that had connected....
You start to reconsider some life choices you've made in the last couple of minutes..
You lift your hands with palms facing him un-threateningly, taking a small step backwards.
"Hey dude, chill out! Do you really want to- ACK!" you're cut off as he slips on the wet floor, grabbing you around your waist. You both fall to the ground, causing you to knock your head on the hardwood. You wince as you grab Steve's shoulders and try to pry him off of your torso. He buries his face roughly into your stomach, and you have to fight with all your might to keep from screaming in panic at the contact. Some distinct memories come rushing to the surface of your mind but you manage to keep your emotions at bay.
"FUCK! Let GO of ME, ASSHOLE!" your voice has raised more than a few octaves as you struggle to get free from his grip around your midsection. You considered trying to knee him in the groin-
"she said to lay off, 'Steve' " a deep voice emanates from above your head. You look up to see some skeleton staring down at you. They were wearing a blue zipped-up hoodie that had a fur trim, some sweat pants and a pair of sneakers. He reached down and roughly grabbed Steve by the back of his shirt, lifting him up. Steve did not respond, instead just limply being lifted into the air. You breathed a sigh of relief. He must have passed out...
"Thanks...didn't think it was going to escalate-" you were cut off by Steve suddenly puking down onto your chest...
With your head down on the bar counter, you could hear the opening and closing of a car door, Steve spouting some obscenities, and then the blissful sound of the car driving away. Someone had called a taxi for the human duo. You still couldn't believe what had happened. You had to strip your shirt off and wash it in the bar bathroom sink, hoping to get some if not most of the stench off of you. Luckily or unluckily for you it seemed that Steve had not eaten anything for a while so it was mostly alcohol in his vomit. You gagged a bit remembering the chore and grimly considered that no mattered how much you showered, that smell would never leave your nose. Your hair only went down to your shoulders so you had narrowly avoided the "pick vomit out of your hair" scenario, but you still felt disgusting. You deserved this, somewhere, written in the cosmos, you did something, or you will do something and this was your punishment. You sighed dejectedly to yourself.
"heh... you look retch'ed. guess that's one way to end a dis'puke"
You groaned and refused to look at the skeleton that was now making fun of your situation.
"Ha. ha. ha. you are just hilarious mr bones.." you lift your head long enough to drink some of the water the bartender had kindly left for you, then return to hiding your face on the counter. You debated walking home immediately after the incident but you honestly didn't feel like sitting in your apartment. Then again sitting in a bar with lingering vomit on your shirt wasn't that appealing either. You had just about convinced yourself to leave when the skeleton monster piped up again.
"nah that's my old mans title, call me sans. sans the skeleton."
"Sans? Like the font?" this made you give him some of your attention. You looked in the direction his voice had been coming from and was greeted by an empty bar stool. You quickly looked to your other side and was met with a skeleton finger in your cheek. You swatted it away half-playfully, a small grin tugging at your lips.
"yeah, its a family thing." he shrugged and leaned back on the counter. He watched you, or rather looked through you, curiosity crinkling around his eye sockets as you laid your head onto your folded arms on the counter and thought about what he said. So everyone in his family has a font based name? You thought of all the crazy fonts you've downloaded onto your computer and had to stifle a snort when you imagined someone named "porcupine pickle".
"so what are you doin at a bar at 2 am?" Sans roused you out of your mental reverie.
"Same to you..."
"i asked first."
"And I asked second, should we keep stating the obvious?" you took another swig of your water and stared at the bony monster.
Sans chuckled a bit. After a moment of considering what to say, he spoke.
"i have a tendon-cy to not sleep. so i stopped by my pals for a bite." he gave a half wave to the bartender across the room as he went about wiping down empty tables.
You gave Sans a more discerning look over and noticed he indeed had circles under his eyes sockets. You didn't question how that was even possible. MMmmmmmaaaggiiiiccccccc..
"Yeah, you look dead tired" you smirked a bit, wondering if that pun was offensive to skeleton monsters. Sans eye lights(?) seemed to brighten and his grin tugged a bit wider as if answering your unspoken question. You wondered if he always smiled like that. A perpetual grin stuck on his face. God, that would be tiring... smiling all the time... Your smirk dropped considerably at that thought..
"hey, speaking ill of the dead is a grave mistake" he winked and grabbed a bottle of ketchup.
You watched mildly surprised as he chugged straight from the Heinz ketchup bottle. The only other time you had ever seen anything remotely like that was when you dared one of your best friends to drink a random mixture of condiments from your fridge. She was drunk off her ass so it didn't take much to convince her to do it. But unlike her, Sans didn't start to puke afterwards. You whistled low as he set the bottle back down.
"You trying to impress me? Just how much do you like ketchup?" you propped one arm up on the bar and rested your chin in your palm again, your body fully facing him now. Sans face erupted with a shit eating grin before he answered.
"i love it...from my head 'to ma toes'.." he waited patiently as he scanned your face for a reaction. For one small, blissful moment you didn't understand what he could have possibly been searching for. Then it hit you, painfully, all at once. Your eyes suddenly widened in comprehension, and realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn't help but laugh at that point.
"GAWD that was...." you laughed hard, as if you hadn't laughed in a very long time, which actually was fairly accurate. You covered your mouth to stifle yourself a bit, your face beginning to turn slightly red. Actual tears were forming in the corners of your crinkled eyes and Sans began laughing at your reaction.
"That was awful.." you snorted a little bit as you let yourself be happy for a moment. "How did I not get that instantly....it's not even that funny!" a new round of laughter flooded your system, as if a dam had been broken.
"im glad you finally mustard up the energy to laugh" he grinned and was about to go on, when the flaming bartender walked over. He and Sans exchanged glances for a moment before Sans sighed and shrugged his shoulders. As your laughing subsided to small snickers, Sans decided to speak up.
"as much as id lava to keep making you laugh, Grillbz says it's closing time." Sans took one more swig from the ketchup bottle and hopped off of his bar stool. You did the same, finishing off your glass of water before heading towards the door. You turned back to the bartender and smiled contentedly.
"Sorry about the commotion earlier...." you cleared your throat and blushed a bit before continuing on. "And for...not actually buying anything..." you grimaced a bit, feeling bad for wasting his time but he waved you off, his crackly voice filling the silence. You hadn't even noticed that the bar was empty save for you, Sans and the barkeep now.
"Don't worry about it, come back again sometime.." his flames popped and snapped as if he understood that you just needed somewhere to relax. He added before you went out the door with Sans, "and Sans, I'm glad you're feeling better..". Sans grinned back at the bartender appreciatively and then you both ducked out of the establishment.