Bruised To The Bone: (Sans x Reader)

Chapter 2

"So (Y/N), do you want fries or a burger?" Sans questions. He leads us to a table. It's a sloppily painted brown, and looks like it could fall apart at any second.

"Fries, please." After being chucked into the Underworld, my appetite is nonexistant.

"Hey, Grillby!" A flame demon monster thing appears to take our orders. I gaze at him curiously. "Some fries, please! Oh, and the usual." The flame demon nods, making his way to the kitchen.

"What's the usual?" I ask.

"Ketchup with vodka. Why?" He drawls, smirking at me. At my school, things like these were fairly normal. One kid put vodka in the mustard on hotdog day, actually. I grin at the memory.

"Oh. Cool." I say in response. He drops his smirk.

"How do you know about the resets, or restarts, as you call them?" Sans questions, gazing at me curiously. There's still an echo of hostility in his stare. I squirm slightly.

"Well, every two or so months, time gets rewound to.. A very memorable point in my life. When the event began to repeat itself, I assumed that my magic was messing with time or something. I did different things after I realized that my decisions didn't matter." I murmur. The things I did.. I'm not proud of some of them. My excuse at the time was that nothing 'really mattered'. But now I know that it doesn't matter. The things I did have implemented themselves into my soul, making them permanently embedded into me.

"Yeah. Me, too." Sans responds. We sit in silence for a while, waiting for our food to arrive. When it does, Sans grabs the ketchup instantly, and begins to chug it. There are ketchup packets on the table, so I don't really mind. I let him do his thing as I munch on my fries. He glances at me, putting the ketchup down.

"You're not.. Surprised? Concerned? ..Scared?" He raises an eyebrow. "You know, people who don't emote don't have a very good reputation, from my experience." I roll my eyes.

"Ha. The kids at my school would do things so much worse."

"How much worse?" He seems intrigued.

"Well, this one kid mixed together ketchup, mustard, relish, and mayonnaise, and put the mixture into the condiments dispensers." I say, eating another fry.

"Ah. Sounds unpleasant." He hummed, taking another sip of ketchup. "Hey, I thought you said you needed a drink?"

"I do." I reply. "Just not right now. I strutted into here saying that for show. I might grab a drink later in the week, but I don't exactly want to introduce myself to everyone intoxicated."

"Heh. Makes sense. So, where are you gonna stay?" He questions, his voice partially slurred.

"I don't really care. Wherever." I lean back in my seat. The wood digs into my back, so I sit back up.

"Wanna stay with my brother and I?" The ketchup bottle is empty, and Sans is looking.. Tipsy, at least. I consider his offer. Seems like a good idea.

"Sure." I shrug, trying to appear careless. "That'd be great." He looks at my plate.

"Looks like you're done eating. Want to head over now?" I nod in agreeance. "Ok. Let me teleport us." I gesture at my eye, which I've illuminated.
"Ah. Right. Heh, guess I'm used to the kid being here instead of you."

"Yep. Will you be able to make it home? And.. Where exactly is your house?" He chuckles at the first bit.

"Of course I'll be able to make it home. We skeletons have a high alcohol tolerance. And my house is the one with the two mailboxes. One has over three hundred pieces of junk mail, so it shouldn't be too hard to find." High alcohol tolerance, eh? I wonder if he could beat me in a drinking war. I've been known to hold my alcohol, so he may be a challenge.