Chainsmoker [ Gaster!Sans x Reader ]

3. To My Unknown Lover

"What's wrong [Y/N]? You've done this before, what makes it any different?"

It had been one of those nights, the kind when your mother would hurry you and your sister to your room, tell the two of you how much your father cared about the family and all the lectures that a parent would give to their children when something was anything but okay. It was nights like these that the two of you hid in the closet, trying not to hear your mother's muffled screams and your father's shouts as he threw furniture at random.

Mornings were the best, they were a relief for the three of you. They were the mornings when he disappeared, most likely to the nearest bar, gambling away what little money your mother managed to earn during her shifts at the diner.

"Things will get better," she had whispered to your sister that night, only minutes before father had come home. The hammer was on the counter, a small detail over-looked from some chore that required a nail to be placed. "Angels are watching over us."

The door burst open. If your father had added 'Here's Johnny!', it would have been a scene straight out of a literal horror movie. Your mother performed the usual routine, gently easing him onto the couch, wincing slightly as he smacked her across the face, only adding to the collection of bruises that adorned her cheeks.

His glazed eyes slid across the room, holding your gaze for a moment, before falling onto the hammer. It was only at this moment, did you feel the true extent of fear. Perhaps you knew now what it felt like to be Papyrus as you dislodged his skull from his spinal cord...

Your mother caught on before anyone else, urging the two of you silently towards the door, a single tear rolling down the side of her cheek. She had been the woman you looked up to, the kind of person who endured the worst kind of crap thrown at her for the sake of her children. She could have abandoned you the first time your father downed his first beer, left you and your sister to the subject of his drunken rage.

But she had stayed.

And sometimes you wished she hadn't.

She was the first to go, none of the details spared as you watched the only person you looked up to brutally butchered and their brains bashed out, the white walls suddenly a dark red. With a terrified cry you and your sister made a run for the door, you only inches ahead of her. If you had allowed yourself to be taken, perhaps you could have been spared of the hell you would be trapped in underneath the Earth, damned to forever live the same story over and over again.

Your father grabbed your sister by the ankle, dragging her away from you. Her screams were the last you heard before things went quiet, a cold, awful silent. For the first time in your life you felt the complete and utter want to put an end to someone's life.

And so you did.

You wrestled your father to the floor, ignoring the threats and profanities as you turned the hammer on him, beating him senseless, continuing to hit him over and over even when he was long since dead.

You were a murderer.

What difference did it make now?

"I can't," you whispered, snapping out of your flashback. You turned your focus to G who was kneeling before you, defiance blazing in his eyes. The cigarette had been thrown in front of you, a thin trail of smoke the only indication that it had been lit.

"You can't?" G repeated your words, saying them slowly as if he couldn't believe that you were capable of uttering such a phrase. He tilted his head to one side, his icy gaze sending chills down your spine. "Or you won't?"

You sneered slightly and turned away. "I'm not Sans," he droned, his stoned attitude returning. "So if you think that I'm somehow going to poof into that ketchup-alcoholic, I hate to burst your bubble, doll."

"I didn't say that!" you spat, whirling around to face him. G seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst and his left eye flared slightly, bringing back memories of the countless genocide runs you had endured.

How many times have I bled to death in the Judgement Hall? you wondered bitterly and closed your eyes, allowing your consciousness to meld with the very fabrics of this world, attempting to activate the abilities that allowed you to either reset or continue in the timeline.

You were met with a sudden mental block that was so strong, you almost staggered into G. You forced yourself onwards, working your way around the block, searching for any weak link that might allow yourself to gain the upper hand.

There was nothing.

Panicked, you retreated back into the confines of your mind to see G staring at you expectantly. "You were attempting to reset, I presume?" he asked, tossing a cigarette onto the ground. "All the save points are gone, like they weren't even there in the first place. It's not surprising, really."

You cocked your head, wondering how he could possibly know all of this. "What do you mean?"

G sighed. "Every time you reset," he spat the last word out like it was venom to him. "You didn't quite erase history, this stuff isn't time travel. Imagine it like... drawing another line on a sheet of paper. It's fine at first until things start to get crowded, timelines entwining with one another. Eventually the entire system needs to reset, a clean slate."

You nodded, the weight of your actions like a boulder on top of your lungs. You found it suddenly hard to breathe. There was nothing more after this. If you died here, you would really die, no second chances. For the first time in a long time, you were human.

"However, there is a way to fix this." You didn't react, continuing to stare at a patch of dead flowers on the ground. "The Core, I believe that if we can start it up again, we can use the power to jumpstart the timelines."

"You trust me?" You looked at G in awe. "After everything I've done, you're just willing to hand the power over to me? I can't do it anymore. I've tried to be human, I went for centuries without killing a monster. But living the same life over and over again, trying so hard not to snap someone's neck whenever they're the slightest bit annoying, you don't know what that does to a person!"

"Or watching your brother die over and over again, killed in every way imaginable? Yeah, you really don't know what that does to a person." G stood up without another word and began walking towards the heart of the Ruins, not bothering to wait for you.

Reluctantly, you followed after him, walking into the seemingly abandoned Underground and to whatever horrors lying inside.