Repo Man (Mafia!Sans x Reader)

9. For the Sinners

There was of course no logical way that Sans could be present. You quickly realized this as the cold cockpit of the gun was placed against your head, even though all observation and fact stated that Sans was there.

Though, there was quite a difference in being both physically and mentally present as Mayor Grimes had so dearly pointed out. Perhaps Sans' physical body was currently barking harsh orders at you, kicking you in the ribs and forcing your crumpled form to kneel down as a patrol of policemen swarmed into the building, but his mind was most likely buried or destroyed entirely by the serum injected into his system.

Manacles were clamped around your wrists, runic symbols etched into the metal that most likely rendered you incapable of using your powers, a precaution now taken given the last encounter.

It had only been hours when you had wrestled him to the ground, entwined in Mayor Grimes' control, and stuck the needle into his bone marrow, watching in satisfied sadist as Sans had slowly withered away before your eyes. Because that was the part that haunted you the most, not that you had brought about his untimely demise, but the stark realization that a part of you had enjoyed watching him suffer, enjoyed watching the comedian kneel before your feet, helpless and hapless to do anything about the situation at hand.

Just like old times.

I forgive you. Those had been Sans last words, but hadn't he met so much more than that? You had done things much more worse then this. The whole showdown in Chicago, this was nothing compared to what you had done in your previous lifetimes. From this sense you were beginning to realize the true nature of you origins.

There seemed to be a multitude of universes just like this one, each universe with its own story and background. There were universes in which monsterkind didn't even exist at all, and you sometimes loathed to join one of those timelines. However, you seemed to be centered around a remote cluster of similar universes, all parodies of alternate Undergrounds and monsters per-say.

You seemed to be able to venture from one timeline to the next, one alternate reality to the next. This would explain why you retained some of your memories, walled away by an invisible dam. You weren't sure what would happen if it burst and every memory and detail of your past lives came flooding forth, but you had a slight sense that it wouldn't be a positive outcome.

You could catch glimpses of these different universes, the ones you were able to move to and fro. However, it seemed that your control over this was fairly limited. You couldn't move from one timeline to the next of your own accord, it was the lifetime commitment sort of deal. Only upon death would your soul not pass on into whatever afterlife lay waiting, but rather to another universe entirely. You had been to many universes, you were sure of.

From these glimpses you recalled several versions of Sans. Again, you weren't sure what time the two of you together, why out of all the thousands of different possibilities and occurrences, the lives of the two of you seem intertwined. You remembered a smaller version of him, slightly more energetic and prone to tacos. There was also a not-so friendlier one who had been prone to carrying an axe and lopping off heads and everything in between.

But these timelines, these countless lives you went through, they weren't exactly positive. You would often remain within one universe for decades at a time, only able to move onto another universe when you had successfully freed the monsters and lived a normal life before dying of natural circumstances. If you were to die in your journey in the Underground, you would simply respawn where you had been, not in an entirely new universe.

So during these respawns, you were quite frankly certain that they had not been milk runs. You remembered the boredom that often followed you in you waking hours, during the universes where you had tried so damn hard to complete the pacifist route and shed no blood, only to fail because some monster forgot that you were there to free them, not kill, and have to restart all over again. And it was in this boredom in which you had picked up a knife and gone to work.