A Woman's Vision (Female Sans Story)

Chapter 7 - Jar of Dust

It was supposed to go better.

From everything that happened, Sans swore Papyrus would make his evening better. So he had ran straight from the bar all the way home, blinking back tears as he made his way there. Surely Papyrus would be the pure one, the person who would have cried over missing his dear brother.

But he never expected to see his own dust in the trash.

Monster dust was something special, what your family and friends do with it is considered the highest form of care and displays of love for the deceased. It was considered close to a human funeral, where the closest family member or spouse would choose what they would do with your dust. Spreading it over something you loved was a great option, another was to keep it close, usually within a jar labeled with a picture or name. That's exactly what Papyrus did, it looked like. A jar with his name, carefully sealed tight to not let any molecule of Sans' previous body escape.

A jar laying next to the trash can outside, ready to be taken away.

The street was bare now, as if every monster and human had retreated inside just as the sun dipped below horizon. No life was outside but Sans, standing alone in the street, shadows cascading down across his human body.

Trembling hands reached down, gently picking up the jar. It wasn't even standing on the bottom, it was set on the side, as if Papyrus couldn't even respect him enough to stand up his jar.

As if everything just crashed around him, Sans shut down. He couldn't feel his soul, nor could he feel what Mal felt. All he could do was stare at his own jar of dust.

Thrown away by his brother.

Who didn't even have any respect to stand up his jar properly.

He just felt... empty. Sans should have felt something. Betrayal. Sadness. Grief. No, his emotions simply all shut off, leaving nothing behind but a heavy chest and cold soul.

Blue eyes drew upwards to look into the window of their shared house, hand holding the jar hanging limp by his side.

Light from inside dragged out across the front yard, stopping only a few feet away from where Sans stood. Shadows danced in front as people moved. Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, Frisk... all of his friends. They were all in there, with his brother.

Everyone never managed to get together after being freed to the surface. Their schedules were chaos, Sans never did get to hang out with all of them at once. Yet there they were, all together, having a friend dinner together. Toriel's homemade meal spread across the table.

And...

They were happy.

Papyrus was laughing, pressing his hands against his face as he giggled. Toriel was giving off her own happy smile as she rubbed Frisk's hair, the two watching Undyne and Alphys talk.

They were all smiling and laughing, having such a good time. Ignorant to Papyrus' still very alive brother, who was standing outside, watching from the descending shadows of the street.

They didn't need him. Papyrus didn't need him. All Sans was to them was this garbage, cast aside with as much worth as the coffee filter that his jar of dust was laying on.

So this is what everyone thought of him? Trash? Something to throw away once it was gone? Not to cherish, not to love and miss?

He was just trash, thrown aside. Everyone humored him while he was alive, and once he was gone, they could stop pretending.

Alphys was happier without him.

Undyne was happier without him.

Frisk was happier without him.