Pure, white snowflakes fluttered to the earth. They gently drifted down like falling, dying embers. The ground had a thick blanket-like layer; it was soft with snow and the faint distinct markings of recent paw print tracks.
Sans sighed and remained where he was, slumped and comfy in his seat at his sentry post. He stared at the high rising walls and the rocky face of the distant ceiling, wondering how it was possible for such a place like Snowdin to exist in an underground cavern like this.
His fawn green hoodie felt warm, its fluff ruffling in the passing snowy breeze. The skeleton absent-mindedly scratched his skull, feeling its rough hard texture between his phalanges.
The air was fresh and cool against his cheekbones; fine mist snaked their way through the dark tall pine trees. Everything was cloaked in a small sense of calmness. Sans cracked his knuckles, the way he always did when he was deep in thought. There was always something satisfying about the sound and the feeling of how his bones cracked under pressure.
The vague scent of barbeque sauce lingered in his skeletal mouth... if skeletons had a mouth. Sans snickered at how skeletons lacked certain features other flesh monsters and humans had, and yet how skeletons could still carry out normal tasks like other living beings despite said disability. The anatomy of magical skeletons can be weird.
It was almost as if there was a tune in the gentle cool breeze. It seemed to play in Sans’ mind, echoing at the back of his skull playfully and happily.
The skeleton exhaled, watching the puffs of warm steam escape from in between his teeth. They rose and dissipated in the cold air, leaving said skeleton still in deep thought about the skeleton anatomy. He whistled along with the tune, creating a soft chorus of joy and the sense of being safe.
It seemed to warm his soul, like a tingling sensation of being together with the people he loved.
Sans recalled the time when he and Papyrus were still little. They were playing in the snow, back on the Surface with…. with……..
Sans faltered in his thoughts, panic and desperation slowly flooding into his skull. With… The skeleton abruptly sat up from his chair. He no longer felt comfortable with where he was. The memory of him and Papyrus was starting to flicker as he helplessly tried to remember who was with them.
It was like trying to reach out in an unending chasm, trying to clasp his phalanges around something without even knowing what it was. All that he knew was that he has once again forgotten someone he swore to never forget. Someone who had been close to the skeleton brothers’ souls, someone important who was always by their side, someone…… who……………
Sans shut his eyelids, clenching his phalanges in intense concentration. The darkness in the chasm seemed to encase the skeleton in it, plunging him into the eternal abyss away from the snow and the melody.
He seemed to be stuck in an eternal free fall, finding only emptiness and darkness around him. His phalanges never seem to catch anything in his grasp. Please…. someone……… who……
The moment seemed to stretch into a never-ending loop. At this point, it was almost positive that Sans would never remember. Sans would never get out of this void, and this time forever forget.
He felt his entire body go numb. It was no longer warm and calm. Just cold. Blind, searing cold. An aching pain was biting into his skull, telling him to let go. Telling him to forget. Telling him to give up and just move on. Thoughts tainted with despair and hopelessness clouded his mind. Give up. They said.
It would be a pain anyway.
Why not just let go instead of going through so much trouble just to remember?
The words sunk into him, caressing him. They were comforting in this freezing cold. Maybe they were right. It was pointless trying to remember when Sans would eventually forget again. All hope slowly faded away from him, leaving him.
No one would be there for him. Nobody will come. Why does it matter anymore? He should just give up. It wouldn't be painful if he stopped trying. It was hopeless. He should just sleep. Being alone was better than being with people he would hurt. No one would ever understand him.
Everything was just pointless.
Everything was just pointless.
The words echoed in his skull, comforting and calm.
All warmth faded in him. Sans' eyelids felt heavy, persuading him to close them. Everything would be alright again if he just closed his eyes.
That's right. Close his eyes.
Sans' body slowly relaxed, becoming slack. His breathing slowed. His soul became dimmer.
Go to sleep. Sleep is good.
No. That single, yet clear voice shot through all the other words and voices. Promise me.
The voice was stern and yet gentle. Promise.
"…Promise." Sans opened his eyes, and for the first time, he saw light. As if struck by lightning, everything came back to him.
He was back in Snowdin. In the snowy forest. At his sentry post. Sans nearly fell over, gasping for air. Sweat beaded his skull, cool against the snowy breeze. He brought a shaking phalange to his ribs, feeling his soul burn with life again.
Everything was white again. The happy little melody was back in his skull. Everything was alright again. He still had Papyrus and Alphys and Toriel and everyone else he cared about.
Everyone would be there for him. Everybody will come. He mattered to everyone. He shouldn't just give up so easily when there were still things needed to be done. It wouldn't be painful if there were people to support him. There was still hope. Sleeping was a waste of time. Being together was better than suffering alone. Everyone would understand him if he just opened up.
Sans got up from his seat, shifting the snow at his feet around. It was a pain to be responsible, but there sure was a lot of things he could do for everyone. For the sake of him, Sans had to keep remembering.
The mist had settled amongst the tall dark pine trees, making the forest cool and white. Sans could pull a short break to visit Toriel. Taking a deep breath, the skeleton relaxed.
He brushed off the snow on his hoodie, fixed his Flash Stepper at his calves, and grabbed a bottle of barbeque sauce from behind his post. There were only three bottles remaining. Sans added a mental note to his list of remembering important things to stop by at Grillby's for more barbeque sauce.
Re-adjusting his bandages around his forearm and legs, Sans made his way to the path leading to the Ruins. He kicked at his Flash Steppers attached to his calves, re-booting the devices. "Heh, sorry dad." the skeleton said to himself as the Flash Steppers kicked started, the air around him crackling with energy. "I'll try harder to keep holding on."
Within a split second, Sans' after-image vanished as he shot off to the Ruins, leaving behind a smoking trail of fried snow and his sentry post.
