After the dust clears between, blaster unblinkingly watching his alternate ─ Sans holds to his stomach and lets out an ugly wretch. Red coats the ground and licks at his slippers ──── The mutation only Judgement carried; Determination.
He looks up, and it’s clear ─ His will is not iron. He looks tired. Exhausted. His own soul flickering its usual brilliant light and the same shade of red, despite his Determination bringing him back, there was always a cost. It still felt like death. There was still pain, and tiredness that threatened to weigh him down────
“───ah,” there’s a long stretch of silence, before he finally talks.
Hands left twitching, he shakily reaches into his pockets and brings out a cigar.
A deep inhale and another violent cough ─ Blurred sights settle on his smaller self.
“───'seems ‘yer really serious about this, aren'tcha..?” another inhale, as smoke crawls out of every orifice, “─can’t say i blame ya. if pap was still alive, i’d be fighting 'fer that right to stay by him, too.”
There’s another pause, before with a click of his fingers, the blaster besides him melts. Dust and determination mix in the ground below ─ He lets it die without so much as a blink of an eye. It was cold, here ─ an atmosphere disrupted from the battle of two monsters. Sans momentarily looks around, before blowing out more smoke.
Another pause, before he grins. Clumps of determination stuck to his teeth, and strings of red slithered from his jaws ─ The more time that passed, the more evident it was that he wasn’t fit to fight for much longer.
“─listen, i’ll be frank wit’ 'cha,” he stomps out the cigar, and settles his gaze on the other, “─i’ve seen a lot of you go rogue. too many to trust 'yer word that 'yer somehow gonna keep this timeline, an’ the multiverse safe. i don’t trust you’ll protect 'yer brother, an’ i don’t trust that you know what’s best 'fer him.”
“───'yer faulted. something that shouldn’t exist, and definitely shouldn’t have the powers you carry with the unstable mindset both you an’ i carry. it’s dangerous. 'fer you. 'fer him. 'fer everyone in this place. i snuff you out due to precaution, nothin’ more.
i’m choosin’ 'ta spare you, but i’ll be checking here often. if i see you take so much as one step out of line ──── you’ll be dead before you ever have a chance to hurt papyrus.”
"──that’s a fuckin’ promise.“
sans hasn’t touched a smoke in years. not to say that makes him something better───nowadays alcohol is his preferred method of self destruction. just getting a whiff of it, though. damn. he could really use a smoke right about now and a drink. just to help take the edge off a little.
instead shock and sympathy heap onto the stress of the fight (magic still crackles in his socket). so, this guy lost his brother? permanently, he assumes───otherwise his fat ass probably wouldn’t be here in his timeline giving him hell. he did some pretty crazy shit, too, the first few times papyrus was dusted.
in one reset he took the hit meant for his brother, and the next thing he knew he was woken up in the middle of the night by a blubbering papyrus at his bedside. he told sans between the hyperventilating and the tears and the sniffles that he had a nightmare───a nightmare in which sans was dusted somehow. after a few hours of hugs, pats on the skull, mugs of warm milk, and repeated lies assurances that it was just a dream...papyrus made sans promise that he’d never up and leave him like that.
and sans isn’t good with keeping promises, but he knows he never wants to hurt his little brother like that. he’s fine if he’s the only one suffering.
“fine.” heh. now that’s a laugh.
...what, “nice place”? that’s how he chooses to break the silence? wow.
❛ thanks. had a feeling that a giant, crazy version of me would drop by for a visit. made sure to tidy up before ya got here. practiced a little feng shui with the snow poffs, ❜ sans chuckles because of course he can’t fucking help himself. ❛ you know, that’s some pretty big talk comin’ from a guy who just got his ass kicked, ❜ he drawls, tucking his hands into his coat pockets easily. ❛ now, maybe you can’t see too well from up on your high horse, but lemme put a few things in perspective for you─── ❜
like to a moth to a flame, sans makes a slow and steady death march ever closer to his alternate.
❛ first of all, you’re sparing me because you know you can’t win. we’d just be buttin’ skulls until the end of everything. second, i don’t give a shit about this doomed timeline or the decaying multiverse───all i can do is live. which brings me to my third and final point. ❜
he stops a few feet in front of him.
❛ if i catch you in my timeline again, i don’t care how many attempts it’ll take─── i w i l l k i l l y o u . ❜
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