Secrets Are Ba(n)d

Part 20: the (k)night before

(This chapter includes some angsty Sans and drinking, so if you're uncomfy then it's ok to skip this!)

Again he ignored the buzzing in his pocket, hardly remembering why he kept his phone in the first place. All he got was bad news, his brother was spotted, no he wasn't, his brother's a monster, he should be ashamed, the now unfortunate usual. Part of him wanted to scowl, to turn to the hateful crowds and deny it all, fight for the one thing he thought was right in the world. And the other, selfish part of him agreed with them.
His brother had left him, left him to rot in these crowds that didn't like his guts, that ignored his jokes and spineless attempts to fit in. He was outcast by almost everyone, his mailbox slowly getting more empty. Soon the only messages he got were Undyne telling him about his cowardice.

The words in his skull made his skull pound. His own thoughts turning against him. Why did they sound familiar, why did it remind him of someone else?

Eventually the days blurred together, every potential thought drowned out by his regular trips to Grillbys. The usually 'warm' welcome was put out by scowls, the only sympathetic shred he got from his oldest pal, Grillby himself.
His stool screeched with rust as he sat, one of the dogs growling at the high-pitched annoyance. "Lucky I don't report you, maybe you'll find your brother in the slammer-" he snickered to his pals, all laughing like hyenas. Grillby flared at the mention, the room brightening for seconds before it was quiet. He looked down to Sans through his glasses, a sorry sight staring back at him. Sans didn't bother using his words, not even his eyes lighting up in anger, a radio silence that only echoed in the tense atmosphere. A table of monsters left, 'eager to escape the brother of a criminal no doubt,' the short skeleton thought grimly, his spiral interrupted by fries and a bottle of ketchup placed in front of him. Grillby leaned over the counter so they were eye level, concern in his flaming features. "..thanks" Sans barely muttered, only eating one or two of the fries before feeling ill. Papyrus always hated grease, said it made him feel sick. He hardly noticed he was crying before grillby handed him a napkin, the self proclaimed 'alpha dog' looking back at him with a sly smirk. "Aww did I hurt your feelings? What a *crying* sha-" he almost barked out a laugh when a sudden wall of blue attacks separated his tables seat and the stool. Grillby gently hit his fist against the counter, a frustrated 'come on, its not worth it' easily readable on his face. Sans shook into his senses, muttering a few syllables before removing the bones, a few of the dogs whining as they left. Dogs. He sighed. He didn't realize how much they just wanted treats from him until he stopped offering them. His head drooped as he took the red bottle off the counter, sipping at it as he pulled his hood higher. The dog would have said something more of it weren't for the burning glare into the back of his head, figuring a good joke wasn't worth his un-singed fur. The encounter wasn't unusual, though Sans was partially glad Grillby was there to keep him from giving into what they all said about him.
Sans was never good with change, and one so sudden made him feel like he was going crazy, so crazy he could hardly drown out the questions. Another sip of ketchup, mixed with whatever concoction Grillby didn't sell enough of that day. Bottle after bottle, the sips turned into longer, drawn out chugs of liquid, to the point his skull swam with the condiment, wiping his teeth with his stained sleeve. "Just.. just one more, put it on my tab" He slurred his words, font almost italic as his smile turned wavy with delusion. Grillby shook his head, sighing hot air. If Papyrus were here, he would help with Sans. He'd make a complaint about the grease, only to enjoy a milkshake like it was his first, and would pay whatever he had in his pockets despite the somewhat impossible debt his brother was in. Grillby didn't realize how much the familiarity was nice, until it was gone.
He hated to kick out a customer so far gone, but with new restrictions on working hours and hospitality, he had little to no choice. He mentally shook his fist at those in charge for such a quick change, but that would wait. He gave the stumbling monster a to-go box of the leftovers from the kitchen, carefully leading him to the door as the end of the day got closer. The rest of the seats were emptied by then, leaving them alone in the semi-darkness of the establishment.
"Wheress,, wheres Paps? He'll pick me up, you should just call him!" he grimly laughed as he slipped to the floor from the fire monsters grip, almost spilling the carefully prepared box of food. Frustrated, Grillby picked him up one last time, placing him at the door for fear of the cold wind against his magic. He looked at the broken eyes of his old friend, the hurt that stained his usually somewhat real smile, and looked away. Sans was loopy, but not stupid. Stumbling slightly, he left the warm building for the empty cold of the town he once loved with an aggravated groan. He never realized how cold the eyes of the other monsters were, some judging him unfairly, some pitying his very relation to the so now criminal he called his brother. Whatever they thought, he just missed the couch. Where papyrus would wake him up in the morning to go to his post, leave him cold spaghetti for breakfast, and-

The empty living room only repeated his thoughts back to him as he opened the door, not bothering to lock it as he dropped the food lazily to the side, unceremoniously dropping to the lumpy cushions. Papyrus would wake him up. He would leave breakfast and leave, only to come back later to tell him off for lazing about.

Papyrus would wake him up.

Papyrus would come back for him.

1096 words
(Another chapter! This one's a bit of a backtrack to before he goes to the lab if anyone is confused, just thought I'd add some salt to the wound as they say. Happy reading!)