Chapter Text
you’re useless and stupid. your skull smacks roughly against the wall, creating a loud “CLANG!” that echoes and reverberates throughout the CORE.
you only seem to mess things up.
“THAT’S NOT TRUE,” gaster says. (oops. did you say some of that out loud? you must have.) “I GAVE YOU A ROLE ON MY TEAM. I DON’T DO THAT TO JUST ANYONE. YOU’RE PRETTY SMART.”
“yeah,” you mutter to yourself, knocking your skull against the metal wall once again. “smart enough to know that i’m an idiot.”
“Th-that’s no-ot tru-ue…?” alphys shoots back, her stuttering tone more a question than a statement.
“mhm,” you respond noncommittally (she wasn’t supposed to hear that), turning back to that stupid stupid stupid piece of work you’ve been working on. the calculations just refuse to work out. (you’re sure that anyone else in the team would have been able to solve it by now. the thought hurts.)
“They’re right, junior,” karma says.
you frown at the nickname. you may be the most recent addition to the team, but alphys and angie are still younger than you. (well, doesn’t that speak volumes about your capabilities?)
“Don’t look at me like that’s peculiar,” he continues, grinning in amusement at the rhyme, looking almost too pleased with himself.
you almost groan. (inwardly, you wonder if this is how your brother feels when you make puns. as fast as it comes, you push the thought away roughly, like you always do. running away from your problems doesn’t do much good in the long run, honestly, but it’s all you know to do.)
-
the day is at work is long, almost seeming longer than usually, but eventually, you head home.
papyrus is already back home. (you can’t even do anything for him other than reading one stupid bedtime story. the kid deserves way better from you.) he’s strangely excited, even for him.
“LOOK!” papyrus says, energetic, pointing at the piece of paper he’s holding. “IT’S YOU!”
the drawing is good. it actually looks like you, from the (your stupid looking) constant grin, the (not-emptiness of your) evidently lit eye sockets, to your (dirty, worn, old, stained, pathetic just like you) blue jacket. strangely, it looks better than you. it looks good for a twelve-year-old. it looks good in general.
“looks good, buddy,” you tell him, your smile almost a genuine one. “even better than the real thing.”
you must have said something wrong because papyrus’s smile immediately drops. “what’s wrong paps?”
he gives you this look, and you shrink inwards slightly, wincing under the unseen pressure. a few seconds later, the critical look ends and papyrus’s smile comes back up, though definitely not genuine. “NOTHING’S WRONG!”
you look at him, but see the stubborn glint in his eye, and know he won’t say a word about it. you drop it, asking something else instead. “what do you want for dinner?”
“SPAGHETTI!”
-
alphys groans something about caffeine as she stumbles into the break room that morning. you use your blue magic to grab a bottle of soda and a cup of coffee and shove both onto the table in front of where she collapsed.
“Tha-anks Sans,” she says, drinking back the coffee like she’s taking a shot of alcohol. the moment she’s done with that, she drinks half the bottle of soda.
you make a noise of acknowledgement and continue reading your book.
“How can you stand so much caffeine?” angie asks, snout scrunched up.
“I- I’ve got a caffe-eine addiction?” alphys answers.
“Ew,” angie says decisively. “I don’t get why you would.”
“there are worse things to be addicted to,” you mutter.
angie and alphys look at you like you said something weird.
-
“That does not look good for you…” grillby mutters.
“i’m not good for me,” you shoot back, before tipping your head back to drink up the remainder of the ketchup. he shoots you a look in return (what’s with people giving you this sort of look nowadays?) and you shrug. “hey, at least i’m not drowning myself in alcohol again.”
grillby visibly hesitates, and you stiffen, but eventually, he just sighs and turns back to cleaning his glass.
in turn, you sigh too, relaxing a little, and go back to drinking ketchup.
you catch grillby looking at you funny a couple of times, but it can’t have been important if he didn’t confront you about it, right?
-
work the next day is tiring. angie, in all her youth (she’s 8 years younger than you - how?) and care and concern (?), decided to trail you. every time you make an off-hand joke (comment), she stops and just stares at you. she means well, but it’s gotten on your nerves. your work has gotten sloppier (pathetic), and you make a crucial mistake, adding a bit too much determination to the solution.
it blows up in your face. literally.
you take a step back, and the explosion just barely misses you. you can feel the shockwaves hitting hard. interesting outcome, even if dangerous.
“pity i moved,” you mutter to yourself, almost laughing.
angie shoots you a sharp look. “What if you hadn’t moved?”
you wince internally - she wasn’t supposed to hear that - and shrug externally.
“You could’ve been melted, fused, dusted, erased from existence!”
“that’s a lot of possibilities - and that’s what experimenting is for, isn’t it? never know until you try.”
angie shoots you a long searching and slightly scandalised look. you stare back at her evenly, doing your best not to let your mask slip more than it already has.
she furrows her eyebrows, but turns away eventually. “C’mon, we need to clean up.”
-
papyrus’s friend undyne is at your home when you go back. you only realise it when you enter the house.
within a few seconds, an angry fish is in your face, a magical spear pointed at you. “YOU WANNA DIE, PUNK?”
the flickering of the dangerous magic on your (lack of) skin…
“sure,” you reply immediately, the same time papyrus yells back from his room. “THAT’S MY BROTHER, PLEASE DON’T KILL HIM.”
undyne falters, but you don’t know at whose words until her ears droop and the magic flickers away, her eyes glued to you. “Wait what?”
you’re glad she says it softly. you really don’t want papyrus to worry more than he already does. “don’t worry about that,” you say. “it was a joke. i make jokes a lot. ask literally anyone who knows me.”
she looks at you funny, but she drops it and you’re glad for it.
you don’t know what you would’ve done if she had pushed.
-
back at work, angie attempts to trail you again. flo manages to catch her this time, and sends her away. you look at them thankfully.
“Don’t thank me yet,” they tell you. “Doctor kindly requested you to lend your help in a private project.”
“me?” you ask.
“Yes you,” they say, deadpan tone and all.
“all i do is ruin stuff,” you say. “ask angie. i blew up a dt experiment yesterday.”
“Keep talking like that and that’s all you’ll ever do. Come. We have work to be done.”
-
when you go back to work the next day, something doesn’t feel quite right.
alphys looks nervous, which should be normal, only she looks more nervous than normal. (how is that possible?)
“stop looking at me like that,” you tell her. you’re not worth her time.
you don’t think you say that aloud. the look on alphys’s face says otherwise.
“Nope,” naveen says, pushing you out of the room and into another. “We need to have a talk about that.”
you push his hand away and cross your arms. “what about.” your tone is flat - it’s not a question.
his eyebrows furrow. “Are you… okay, Sans?”
you tense up. “‘course i am. why wouldn’t i be?”
“Sans-“
“look, ‘veen,” you say, and watch how his face scrunches up at the nickname. “i’m fine.” you emphasise the last word. “there’s nothing to worry about.” your voice is unsteady. you make it steady. “this is how i’ve always been.”
you don’t wait for a response as you ‘port out.
-
it seems the rest of the team is decidedly “not pleased” with you avoiding all attempts to address what they deem an issue.
they stage an intervention. you’re just glad papyrus isn’t involved in this.
“Sans,” flo says. “We are worried about you.”
that’s touching a little too close to the lines you’ve drawn and the walls you’ve built and possibly addressing a bit too much of the elephant in the room-
“what’s this about?” you ask, blandly, your smile a little too tight, eye lights watching the others.
“I don’t know!” naveen snaps. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding us?”
“i haven’t been avoiding you,” you say.
you’ve only had more important things to do at the most inopportune times, unfortunately.
“CUT THE CRAP,” gaster says. “LET US WORRY OVER YOU IN PEACE.”
“that’s not how it works,” you shoot.
“We’re worried about some of the things you say,” karma says. you await the next line of the rhyming couplet. it doesn’t come.
“like?”
alphys meets your gaze surprisingly steadily. her voice doesn’t shake as she speaks, for once. “You called yourself useless and stupid. That you only seem to mess things up.”
when everyone turns to look at her, her confidence falters immediately. “A-at least that’s what I thi-ink you said?”
gaster nods at that.
everyone starts raising other stuff you said.
“those were jokes,” you say, reminiscent of the time you told pap’s friend something similar. “i tell jokes, that’s my thing.”
“How about this?” angie says, surprisingly quiet previously. she looks at you dead in the eye light. “There are worse things to be addicted to.”
you grab your lower arm on instinct, aching to teleport away from this, but you’re pretty sure that at this proximity, someone would be brought with you if you did.
“’s nunna ya business,” you say, the snowdin accent creeping into your tone.
you’re panicking why are you panicking you need to calm down.
“Sans-“ someone says, reaching out to you.
you decide that the risk is pointless. one person is better than six.
you ‘port.
there’s a groan of two someones as they land next to you. shit.
you take a couple steps back before they can regain themselves, before they can look up, and then you ‘port away again.