Ace in a Hole (Undertale x Hazbin Hotel)

Epilogue

Time marched forward.

More sleepovers, more beach visits, more radio shows, and all other types of shenanigans take hold of his time. Papyrus and the others eventually settle into a full acceptance of Alastor. The type of acceptance more so born from need than desire.

Alastor spent half of his days on earth and the other half in hell, managing the hotel and his reputation while ensuring he spent time with his partner. Alastor always came up with new fantastical stories to share, eager to sit down with Sans, a good drink in hand, and chatter away until the moon rose and the stars demanded slumber.

The steady beat of time continued.

Undyne and Alphys finally got married, two years after Sans had first met Alastor. Sans sometimes wondered if the leisurely pace was a result of Alastor's reveal of the afterlife. Undyne and Alphys, in turn, took their time getting comfortable with their bills and jobs and housing until, finally, Undyne popped down onto one knee on their anniversary and gave the words.

Alastor was Sans' plus one, again, and the demon had swayed on the dance floor and captured the hearts of all of the older folks who pinched his cheeks. It was quite a sight indeed.

Six weeks after Undyne and Alphys' wedding, and one week after they came back from their honeymoon, Maurie passed away.

Sans, unfortunately, had been the one to find her. Her heart had given out in the midst of watering her plants, the watering can still clutched between her fingers when Sans received the worried text from her eldest child. And when Sans came around to check under their babbling request, he had found her and called the authorities.

Somberly, Sans had watched Maurie's body be rolled away under a white sheet. That night, he had crawled into Alastor's embrace and stayed there until morning.

His knowledge of the afterlife couldn't stop grief for another, or the way his soul ached when the children came to gather her things. Crestfallen, puffy eyes, and wobbly lips as they had slowly gathered her things into boxes. One of them had come to Sans on the sunniest of mornings in the summer, their hair plastered to their sweaty forehead from the blistering summer heat. Her Mama had encouraged her to enter art as a career, despite the icky instability of the field, and she had flourished and had several paintings in the art museum. Maurie loved to brag about her, about all of them.

Sans invited her in for tea, and she accepted. They spoke about Maurie, about everything. Maurie had been ever so pleased to have a new neighbor when Sans moved in, especially one who had been a monster. The eldest of her loved children spoke gingerly, words stapled together like the neat package she had presented to Sans.

Maurie wanted her to have her cookbooks—all of them. He flipped through one of them that night, when sleep didn't come to sweep him away, and found the recipe she had made for Sans and Alastor's first visit.

It was bittersweet. Knowing there was an afterlife but watching her children grieve. Sans attended her funeral, and even gave a short speech. It was near enlightening to discover she was his only friend when he first moved just like how she had been his. A mutual loneliness both had unknowingly cured. Sans never realized it until she was being buried, her children and grandchildren weeping softly as they watched a beloved woman descend into the ground beside her husband.

Alastor had held Sans through those weeks. Even if the afterlife was set and proven, the proof itself holding him, the concept of death was still saddening.

"She is in heaven, you know," Alastor had mumbled against him, his eyes soft and his hands pliable. "I did a quick sweep of hell after she passed, and no new sinners anywhere near her fell that morning. She's in heaven."