Mr. Nice Guy

Snapped

Rap-pa-tat

Rap-pa-tat

Rap-pa-tat

Rap-pa-tat

Sans idly drummed his fingers against the dark, oak, kitchen table as he eyed down a spot on the wall that seemed to hold his attention more than the ruckus that was going on in the kitchen.

Papyrus ran around the small kitchen, seeming to be trying to make spaghetti and pancakes, while Toriel chased him around, trying to keep the kitchen from burning down. Frisk sat next to him, watching attentively as the other two ran around the kitchen and Flowey was seated at the window sill, right behind Sans' head, looking out the window, seeming to be bored.

They made it to the surface.

Sans frowned. He should be happy.

But he was anything but that.

Yeah, maybe they did get their happy ending finally, but boy did that kid like messing with him before.

Sans glanced behind himself to the flower, who was the only other person he was aware of that knew about the time shenanigans besides Frisk. He recalled Flowey saying over and over again that if he had any power left; as he lost all of his after Frisk fought him the final time; he would have killed Frisk by now. For a flower without a soul, he sure seemed steamed about the whole five genocides in a row before going pacifist thing.

Frisk giggled, watching Papyrus dancing around Toriel, his booming voice declaring that she was making the pancakes all wrong.

Sans rolled his eye-lights. He knew he was building up too much frustration. By now the sound of the child's voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him. It was all he could do not to snap and kill that thing.

you made a promise. His own conscience echoed in his head. keep yourself together.

He held in a breath, in an attempt to suffocate the temptation. Hell, it was literally right next to him, with low health. That's considering if he'd even want to attack it with magic. For crying out loud, his nails were sharp enough to cut right through flesh if he wanted to.

He drummed his finger a bit louder. c'mon, stop havin' creepy thoughts about killin' a kid.

"Sans?" Frisk asked quietly.

The skeleton immediately dug his nails into his own bone. It hurt, but it was the only way to keep his anger in check, "'sup, kid?"

Frisk looked at him concerned, "You've been acting weird since we got to the surface three months ago, are you okay?"

"never better." He answered simply, leaning back in his chair, ignoring what he read to be mock concern on the creature's face.

Frisk frowned, "You're a horrible liar."

He simply paid no attention to them, shoving his hands into his pants pockets, as he did not have his usually blue hoodie on at the moment.

"Why won't you talk to me?" The human asked, slightly irritated.

Sans gave them a side glance, "i'm talkin' to ya right now. there ya go."

Frisk puffed out a breath, standing up from their seat, hovering over Sans. Even if he was standing and not sitting, at this point they would still be lingering over him, as they hit a growth spurt over the last three months. They crossed their arms, "Sans, all you do is ignore me. I know there's something wrong, and you're not saying anything. Why don't you trust me?"

Sans forced himself to stay seated, and not say a word, putting his hands back onto the table. He could feel himself boiling over the edge. He just wanted them to stop talking.