Royal Blue

What We All Wanna Know (Chapter Five)

Sans shouldn't've done that.

He warped out, the familiar sensation of his own magic swallowing him, a barrier to the world, followed by the impassible feeling of being plucked out of reality for just a second. Unable to breathe, think, working off instinct and nothing else. It was... calming, in a way. The nothingness.

Sans found himself moving on auto-pilot even after exiting the darkness, the blur of numbers, blackness and snow flushing past his vision, the sheer amount of distance traveled leaving him a tad disoriented, Sans gathered his bearings easily enough and pulled open the heavy and creaking doors of his favorite bar.

He really, really shouldn't've done that.

He didn't know why, if he was honest. There was no possible reason for Zero to have acted so rashly, no explanation for why someone Undyne would think of as the perfect stranger to be so... so-

Sans groaned slightly, his armor shifting. He had acted so brashly, so unthinkingly.

But, seeing Undyne up there, like she hadn't broken the only promise he ever asked of her, it had lit a fire in him that only ever sparked when something happened to Papyrus.

Not that that was any excuse, Sans thought to himself as his slumped form shuffled inside, letting the door swing shut and a breath linger in the warm, home-like feeling of Grillby's.

But after Sans had made that mistake, after staring at Undyne like that, he figured introducing himself was the best option. Make nice, salvage the situation. Make a good first impression.

Clearly, that had not gone as well as he'd hoped.

Undyne recognized his armor, she asked questions. Far too many questions. And with emotions running high...

Well, the rest was history.

Sans sat down at his usual spot.

Grillby approached, rectangular glasses glinting as he handed Sans a bottle of ketchup. The establishment was deserted besides the two of them, and given it was the middle of the day and most guards would still be back at the castle, this wasn't terribly surprising.

"Thanks grillbz," Sans muttered, removing his helmet, setting it down on the bar with a thunk.

"You're......... in your... armor......" Grillby spoke, voice a faint crackle.

"Oh? I hadn't noticed," Sans said with a cheesy grin. But one half-lidded side eye from Grillby told Sans that his old friend wasn't about to just let him skirt the issue.

Sans laughed to himself, but then went quiet, watching the red bottle for a long moment.

"I know." Sans took several quick swallows of the ketchup, and let out a lonely, empty laugh.

"But with how my day is going, I wouldn't be shocked if this isn't the only promise I break from a nice old lady."

He smiled.

Grillby swatted at him. If the fire-elemental had eyes, Sans was sure they'd be rolling.

"It is... quite... rude..... to call a man's wife..... old." Grillby hummed, but there was a fondness to his scorn.

"Oh come off it," Sans said with a wide grin and a sip of his drink. "We're all old."

His smile faded.

"Old and tired."

There was a pause that lingered and strained. Not the quiet of friends with nothing to say, but the chilling silence of omission and questions neither dared to ask.