Soul of a Broken [Rewriting]

6

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Sans tried to give people the benefit of the doubt when it came to judging their character. He tried to keep a neutral opinion about you, as he should do. But he just couldn't. His past experiences with Frisk and by extension, Chara, made him become stubborn about any reasoning other than his own.

He would sneak up behind the kid every reset, praying to whatever deity there was that dust wasn't on their periwinkle and violet sweater. He should have stopped them then when there was, or at least attempted to. But he didn't. He watched from the shadows as they murdered the entire Underground; but he could never watch his brother fight. He always had the timing perfect though. The sound of knife cutting bone and the five second count before his brother's dusting skull made a small crunch in the snow.

Yes, he should have done something then. But certainly if he had, he wouldn't be where he was now, right? In his bed, with a house in a monster friendly neighbourhood with his brother. And well, you. His thoughts were so conflicted when it came to you. Should he be more friendly as he had with Frisk? Or should he just halt all interactions as he did the day he first met you?

Perhaps Papyrus did see something in you that he was just too closed off to see. But his sibling saw the light in every darkness, even if he were looking into a black hole. Sans sighed while shifting onto his side on his bed. His wrinkled and rolled up sheets hit the carpet floor but he didn't bother picking them up. He was too lost in thought about what to do.

He always had a hard time meeting new people nowadays, since he couldn't figure them out sans resets (ha). Not like he wanted any more resets to occur just for him to become accustomed to everyone's actions and personalities. But he wished you had come later, when he had everything sorted out.

But one thing he couldn't figure out is why he was overthinking it all. You were just Alphys' experiment with nowhere else to go. Half human, half monster. But those four words plagued his mind. You were simply created and brought onto the surface with privileges monsters wish they could have. You knew nothing about the suffering monsterkind had to go through to even get to where they were now, only to deal with the bullshit of whether monsters should have equal rights or not.

Or if they were even counted as a person.

No, not you. That's where your human side came into play. You had the appearance to fit in perfectly and humans couldn't see souls unless a monster had entered into a confrontation with them (which were banned the second people found out about them). Sans felt his magic boiling in him. You thought you could just waltz into their home and be excluded from the monsterphobia and racism that him and his brother had to deal with.

You probably thought you were better than them.