Divided [ Sans X Reader ]

/8\

Sans had insisted that you slept for the remainder of the night despite his slouching posture. His eyes darted nervously to where you assumed he now saw his dead friends. "Promise me you can handle this," you said forcefully, your voice firm. Sans replied with a slight nod.

You relaxed at this, not entirely convinced but the fact that Sans would at least try to fight his insanity reassured you in some way.

You gave way to sleep.

You were back in the blistering cold of Snowdin. Flowey wrapped his vines reassuringly around your shoulder and urged you onwards. "I knew we could get past him this time..." he murmured, looking around for any sign of the skeleton that had caused you so many resets.

Memories flashed through your mind of the previous dream, the one where Flowey had been entirely different. His glistening red eyes were a memory you could never get rid of.

You weren't sure if Sans would keep his word and protect you from Papyrus' wrath. He had seemed weary at the mention of standing up to his brother. Pain flared at the back of your head and you reached to stop whatever was causing it.

Your hand brushed against a flower.

"F-Flowey w-what are you d-doing?" you hissed. You shouldn't have trusted him. He was just like every other monster, cold and heartless, seeking every opportunity to kill you.

"I'm right here [Y/N]," Flowey's weak voice came to your left, signifying that he was still wrapped around your shoulder and not on the back of your head. "Can you check out the flower..."

"No... It's too soon..." he gasped, panic edging his voice. "[Y/N] there's no time to play around anymore. Remember how you can reset? There's a limit on the amount you can do. You have to avoid as many as possible. Otherwise..."

"I die for good, don't I?" you replied, horror edging your voice. "There's no coming back from it."

"HALT HUMAN!" a loud voice echoed from around you. You looked up to see a tall skeleton tower menacingly above you. He wore red battle armor with a black scarf wrapped around his neck. His teeth like Sans' were filed down to form fangs. His skull looked like it had been physically altered to form a much more terrifying look.

Sans stepped into view. He stared at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with you. You opened your mouth to protest - beg him to save you - when you noticed the black leash fastened to the spiked collar around his neck.

"Who would do such a thing to their own brother?" you gasped, staggering backwards. Papyrus caught wind of this and yanked the leash in a sudden jerking motion that brought Sans to his knees.

"Sorry kiddo," he said with a smirk and raised his hand upwards to create a wave of bones. Four dug into each of your limbs and pinned you to the ground. "I'm just doing my job," he explained and shot another bone, straight for your chest.

And then everything went dark.

You woke up screaming. Your hands fumbled to your chest, expecting to feel the gaping hole from where the bone had penetrated you. The pain had felt real. You weren't supposed to feel anything in a dream.

Sans was no where to be seen.

"YOU PROMISED!" you hollered, not entirely sure which Sans you were referring to. The one in this timeline had promised he could handle his demented visions and obviously succumbed to them while the other version of him had failed to keep you alive.

Timeline? That was a new word.

Sans walked from the kitchen, producing a plate of spaghetti. "Papyrus taught me how to make it," he explained grimly, setting it onto the kitchen table. So maybe only one Sans didn't keep their promise.

Sans himself was hollow, lifeless even. There was no energy to his smile, sometimes you even caught it slipping. His right eye was an enigma, flicking from blue to red, even purple.

To this day you weren't sure of where the urge had come from. You grabbed Sans by the collar of his white undershirt and kissed him firmly on where his lips would have been. You stayed there for a very long time, enough time for the food to go cold. He eventually broke away, a dark blue tint to his cheekbones.

"That was uncalled for," you accused, slugging him playfully.

Sans opened his mouth to protest and then decided better, knowing that there was no way you would let him accuse you. "C'mon," you smirked, scooting a few inches closer to him in the couch. "You enjoyed it you little troublemaker."

Sans buried his head in his knees in an attempt to hide the blush spreading over his face. For a moment, you swore that this was the same Sans that you had saved in NYC.

We can all come back, you smiled triumphantly at the spot where Sans usually hallucinated Papyrus. I'm going to save him and you can't stop me.

Sans finally managed to get control of himself and then looked around the room. "I can tune them out if I try," he whispered, afraid that the hallucinated versions of his dead friends would overhear and attempt to thwart him. He paused and then stared at you. "You aren't scared of me, are you [Y/N]?" There was a small glint of insanity to his eyesockets.

"Of course not," you returned with the same flirtatious smile you had given Sans a few seconds ago. He once more buried his head into his knees, attempting to conceal the growing blush.

For now you decided that the demented versions of this reality could wait. What mattered now was that you were with Sans.

And that was perfectly fine.