Also known as Sanitizer!Sans or merely Sani, Cleaner Sans is the multiverse's one-sans clean-up crew, taking care of the messes from all these battles happening all the time!
more under the cut!
this art by @mintytown PLEASE GO FOLLOW THEM
Cleaner has dozens of different tools for all different kinds of messes, and every one of them have names. He pops up mysteriously in the aftermath of every battle, waiting until everyone leaves.
Cleaner meticulously sprays and scrubs and mops and sweeps to make sure every battlefield is in a pristine state for whatever may happen there next.
Say "Thank you Cleaner!" (He doesn't get to talk to many people and few people even know he exists.)
Cleaner Sans is heavily inspired by @stitchau. I was thinking if the multiverse has someone to clean up all that mental junk, we need someone for the physical junk!
(plus i think cleaner and stitch would be good friends, half because cleaner would keep treatment space nice and tidy but also because this bitch needs therapy...)
this is a fanfic including my utmv oc Sanitizer!Sans and @stitchau's character Stitch.
i fell in love with Stitch pretty much instantly, and Cleaner Sans is directly inspired by Stitch. i think they'd be good friends, Stitch cleaning up people's mental junk while Cleaner cleans up the rest! plus my boy needs therapy
fic under the cut!
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The clocks on the walls of Treatment Space clicked like several synchronous metronomes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Cleaner's boots tip-tapped on the wooden floor while he fiddled with his fingers and shifted in his seat on the couch.
Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
The florescent bulbs pulsated rapidly, likely imperceptible to anyone but Cleaner.
"You can stand and walk around, if that'd make you more comfortable."
Stitch sat in the chair across from Cleaner. Cleaner was hesitant to try therapy, but Ink kept recommending it. When he first walked into Treatment Space, Cleaner was pleasantly surprised at how tidy Stitch kept his space.
Cleaner took Stitch's offer immediately and stood. He walked around the room and took a greater stock of everything. The desk behind Stitch's chair was covered in various papers. The two doors on either side of the room both had small smudges. There was a bookshelf against one of the walls. None of the books had any titles on their spines, but they had varying colors and were all the same width and height.
"In your file you mentioned a pocket dimension? What is that like?" Stitch asked.
"Oh yes, the place I live in is pretty similar to this actually," Cleaner said, slightly absentmindedly as he was still analyzing the room, "I call it Safespace actually," Cleaner chuckled.
Stitch flipped another page on their clipboard. "You wrote that you struggle with eating? Would you like to talk about that?"
"No," Cleaner said, his tone as cheery as it was when he walked in, "I can eat just fine when I'm not in Safespace, it's not that big of a deal." Cleaner bounced up and down on his toes.
"When you're not in Safespace? Are you not able to eat in your own home?"
.
.
.
.
.
"You know just because there's books on these shelves doesn't mean the books don't collect dust," Cleaner walked over to the shelves and looked closely at the patterns of dust. Most of the books were absolutely covered, while some had less dust than others. Cleaner assumed that Stitch used those books more often than any others.
"I didn't know that, thank you."
.
.
.
"Whenever you're ready to answer the question we can continue."
"It wouldn't take much at all for me to whip these shelves into shape. I could do it in two shakes right now if you'd like."
"If that'd make you more comfortable."
A handheld feather duster materialized in Cleaner's hand, his trusty Dustarella, and he went to work clearing off the bookshelves.
.
.
Ten minutes later
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Twenty minutes later
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Thirty minutes later
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Stitch looked around their office, patiently watching Cleaner work. The papers on their desk were put in very neat piles. The floor and the rug were both completely spotless. The picture frames had been wiped clean of any smears. The golden doorknobs sparkled.
Stitch had to yell over the din of the vacuum that Cleaner had manifested, "If you're almost done, we can get back to work."
The vacuum clicked off, "What was that?" Cleaner asked.
"Would you like to sit down and answer the question I asked you at the start of our session?" Stitch asked calmly, with the tiniest hint of irritation in their voice.
The vacuum disappeared in a flurry of pink bubbles. Cleaner plopped down onto the couch, "I'd like to ask you something first."
"Go ahead. I'm an open book," Stitch said.
"What was Nightmare doing in your office?"
.
"That falls under client confidentiality, I'm bound by code not to disclose anything about potential clients." Stitch said, looking down at their clipboard.
.
"Would you like to get back on track or would you like to end our session here?"
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.
.
Cleaner moved to stand again so he could get back to work. Stitch interrupted him with another question, "How did you know Nightmare was here?"
Cleaner stated simply, "Stains under the rug, I'm guessing you couldn't get them out of the floor and moved the rug to cover them."
A spray bottle manifested in Cleaner's hand. The nozzle was purple and it had a lavender colored liquid inside of it. In the center of the solution sat a glowing yellow heart shape. "I could get them out for you next time I'm here, but I think our time is up."
The clocks chimed softly. Stitch's next patient was here.
"I hope I haven't been a difficult client," Cleaner said with sincerity in his voice, "Thanks Doc. Until next time."
Cleaner left Treatment Space.
This is going to be quite the treatment journey...
Thank you for reading!!! i'm hoping to do at least a few more of these, getting into Cleaner's mind, his history, and maybe helping him out a little bit!
this is a fanfic including my utmv oc Sanitizer!Sans and @stitchau's character Stitch.
i fell in love with Stitch pretty much instantly, and Cleaner Sans is directly inspired by Stitch. i think they'd be good friends, Stitch cleaning up people's mental junk while Cleaner cleans up the rest! plus my boy needs therapy
fic under the cut!
Knock knock.
Cleaner fidgeted with the fabric of his cloth mask. He thought the last session ended fairly abruptly and felt stupid for interrogating Stitch like he did.
Why does it matter what Nightmare is doing in Treatment Space? That guy could really do with some therapy after all.
I didn't need to ask about it. I didn't need to clean everything. I didn't need to... come... here...
why did i polish the doorknobs...
why did i vacuum...
why didn't i answer his questions...
Cleaner's mind continued to race. He stepped back from the door and moved to leave.
Creeeeeeak.
Stitch opened the door, "Sani? I'm ready for you now." Stitch always had a smiling expression, but they seemed pleased to see Cleaner.
Cleaner calmed his breathing and went in.
The tick tock of the many clocks on the walls returned as soon as he crossed the threshold. It felt familiar, but still as uncomfortable as last week.
"Come in, come come." Stitch gestured to the couch. The couch and the chair were in the same position as last week. The rug was also still in the same position, slightly offset from the furniture to cover the stains.
Cleaner sat and looked around. He noticed the ordinarily pristine Treatment Space was even cleaner this time around. The books had likely been dusted minutes before Stitch opened the door. The rug hadn't been walked on since it was last vacuumed.
Oh... Not so clean.
There was a spot on the far edge of the couch.
Stitch sat, flipping through the pages on their clipboard. They clicked their pen three times, an amount that stuck out to Cleaner. It was inconsequential to click the pen three times. The first would activate the pen, the second would deactivate it, and the third would activate it again.
Why.. would they click it three times...?
....Why?
...........................Why?
"Sani?" Stitch asked, "I would appreciate if you could answer so I can better understand how to help you."
Cleaner squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, "I'm sorry, what was the question?"
"Do you want to talk about your home and eating?"
Yes. Cleaner said.
No, he didn't say anything. He wanted to.
But he didn't.
.
"Sani?" Stitch asked.
That spot. On the couch.
.
That was all he could think about.
.
The answer was yes. Cleaner wanted to talk about eating. Cleaner wanted to trust Stitch.
.
That spot.
.
On the couch.
.
Stitch tilted his head, his smile and wide open eyes folding to make a concerned expression.
.
Stitch huffed, "I'll give you as much time as you need."
"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" Stitch asked. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
"Would you like a communication aid?" Stitch asked. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
"Do you need water or food?" Stitch asked. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
"Do you want to step out of the room?" Stitch asked. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
. thatspotonthecouch
Cleaner felt something grip his leg. It shook him from his stupor. He hadn't realized how fast his leg was bouncing up and down until Stitch grabbed it.
Stitch held Cleaner's gaze. Even though Stitch's eyes were nothing more than emotionless black circles and white pinpricks, Cleaner felt worry wafting off of Stitch.
"Let's step outside and you can tell me what's wrong."
Thank you for reading!!! i'm hoping to do at least a few more of these, getting into Cleaner's mind, his history, and maybe helping him out a little bit!
im really proud of how this one came out, i hope you guys like it as much as i do!
