Before the Storm ( Sans x Reader )

16. Before the Storm

Note: (S/d) stands for the design of your soul.

"What are you looking at?"

You traced the tips of your fingers against the cracks on the wall, the cracks that were perhaps glimpses into a future outside of these green walls, the cracks that had always been there. "Don't you see?" You turned around to face Sans, feeling for the first time in a long time, a small glimmer of hope that rose inside your chest, that perhaps you could fix whatever had gone wrong in the past life that you could not remember, that you could save Papyrus, that you could protect the two skeletons you had allowed into your mind and heart.

"Not really," Sans joked half-heartedly, taking a step closer to you. "All I see are cracks in the wall!"

"Exactly!" You exclaimed, not sure if you were having a sudden revelation or the fantasies and revelries of some mad man. "The cracks in the wall, the reminders that nothing lasts forever, they're glimpses out of here. Look how deep they go."

Sans directed his gaze back to the cracks in the wall and began to have the same understanding that was dawning upon you. "There's light shining through the cracks," he realised, tracing his finger too alongside the breaks in the green tile. "Which means that these cracks, they go deep, possible breaking through the entire tile itself."

"Nothing lasts forever," you breathed. "The cracks are like a blueprint, one big map that shows and identifies all the weaknesses in the wall. Maybe, just maybe, if we could channel our magic and direct it towards the cracks, the breaks in the tile, we could apply pressure upon the weak spots, cause the whole thing to collapse."

"But even if we did," Sans muttered, the hope draining from his eyesockets just as quickly as it had come, "the scientist is probably going to notice a large explosion coming from our cell. There won't be much time to get out of here, and I'm not leaving Papyrus, even if he is a hollowed out shell that's dead to the world. Plus, if you haven't been paying attention recently, I'm the weakest of us three. I barely can lift a bone five feet from the ground, what makes you think that I can help you take down a wall?"

"We're not leaving Papyrus behind," you snapped, feeling slightly agitated that the comedian could have even thought that that idea would have crossed your mind. "But monsters, no matter how weak they might be, are made of magic, it's in your genetic code. And humans, like myself, while we may not be made of magic, our souls and vessels are filled with energy. What if we combined that together, channeled both of our physical abilities into one source of magic?"

"You're saying that we should combine our souls?" Sans shook his head at the prospect. "I'd like my soul to stay inside my body and yours inside your own, thank you very much."

You ground your teeth, on edge that he couldn't see the big picture. "No, that's not what I meant," you insisted. "Skeletons and monsters in general are too weak to contain a soul for an extended period of time, it's the reason why the scientist is changing Papyrus' physical structure so that it could hold high amounts of energy." You weren't sure why you knew that. Ever since you had pierced the barrier with its hidden memories, some of the details were ever-so-slowly bleeding through.

"So," you continued, "if I could summon forth my magic and you with yours, maybe we could combine it into one source of energy, tapping into your hidden reserves of magic and the energy within my soul to boost it."

"That makes perfect sense," Sans replied sarcastically, not understanding anything at all.

"Just give me your hand," you grumbled as you pressed your other hand against the wall, closing your eyes and allowing a thin tendril of your energy to pass from your mind into the cold green tile, prodding and poking at the weak points in the tile, mapping out where the hidden faults were.