The hand that holds the chain(swapfell)part 2

chapter 5

“This is bullshit. This is bullshit, and I hate you.”

Alphys stood back, her arms crossed as she rolled her eye. “You're being a total infant about this,” she retorted. “And aren't you and Papyrus into that pain shit?”

“HE is the masochist! I'M the sadist! Get it right if you and Undyne ever want a crack at it.”

“Um. Ew. But right, fine. Look.” She sighed, rubbing her face. “Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”

Sans's eyelights flashed. “Do you want me to answer chronologically, or alphabetically?”

“Fuck you, I meant since we became friends.”

Sans scowled, sitting back in the chair and stared at the wall across from him. Friends. They really WERE friends, weren't they? Sans couldn't recall much of any point in time where he had a friend, either as a child OR an adult. Hell, he had been more than prepared to tear Alphys into pieces for making Papyrus's life hell, but come to find...

They were the same.

Like him, Alphys had something to prove in her field. She was incredibly gifted as a warrior and was coming into her own as a leader, but from some of their talks, her road up to her position had been hard-fought and tedious. Being perfectly honest, she truly thought Papyrus was just another asshole superior she had to prove herself to, and felt regret every day for realizing that he was a damaged, suicidal creature that she'd had a hand in pushing to the dust pile with her actions.

Repentance had not gone to Papyrus, but rather to Sans. Anything Sans wanted to know, she let him know. Anything Sans wanted her to do, she did. And in time they truly had formed a friendship between them, forged from battle camaraderie and a desire to not see Papyrus wronged like before again.

So, no. Alphys hadn't steered him wrong. And she WAS his friend.

He sighed, rubbing his eye sockets. “...fine,” he said. “Let's just get this over with.”

Alphys nodded, uncrossing her arms and picking up a large file from the table next to Sans. “Alright,” she replied. “And just think, it's not just for show, you can use it for whatever crap you and he get up to. More fun, right?”

“Hurry the fuck up before I decide to shove that file into your other eye.”

*     *     *

GodDAMN his mouth hurt, but this was totally worth it.

Sans stood in front of the mirror, his eyelights glimmering as he ran his phalanges over his teeth, poking lightly at the sharp points that Alphys had filed them into. She had done a fantastic job too; perfectly symmetrical and balanced and fit neatly when he put his jaws together. And good gods, did he look vicious.

She'd been right; first impressions DID change the outlook. Even more so that it looked like he could tear throats out with ease.

He flexed his jaw a little to get more comfortable with it, heading out of the bathroom to Alphys. “It's perfect,” he said, not even bothering to salt-grain it.

Alphys smirked. “So, this means I was right,” she said.

“Don't push it.”

“I don't have to push, you implied it.” She crossed her arms, grinning. “I've been filing my own teeth for years, I know how to make it work. YOU were a challenge though.” Her expression sobered slightly as she tapped her bicep with a finger nervously. “...but that's just ONE small bit that can help you out now.”

Sans frowned. “How do you mean?” he asked. Alphys jerked her head to the side and walked off, signaling for him to follow. She led the way to an unused room that somewhat functioned as an office, walking up to a crate tucked back in the corner.