Mr. Nice Guy

Lunatic

The child leaned in, whispering an inch from the skeleton’s face, “I… can't… feel… anything.” Their eyes looked hysteric.

Sans stared at them blankly, his eye-lights dimming the more the child spoke.

“I only feel when I hurt you… I feel so… happy! It feels so good. I feel alive!” they grabbed Sans’ shoulders, but the skeleton refused to flinch, “That's why I did it. I could finally feel without any permanent consequences. Just a simple thought and I'd go back… and I'd be able to do it again… and again… until I was satisfied.”

They pulled they skeleton closer to them, their voice filling with a darkness Sans had only ever witnessed in the golden hall, but his stubbornness refused to let him react, his darkened eyes just looking emptily into the child’s.

“I thought you were like me too, Sans. At first I thought you were just like me. You just seemed so fake… and you were. You were fake, everything you did was fake, everything you do is fake. Your smile, your laugh, none of it's real.” They laughed in a way that would shake a soul of the strongest monster. That would send a soul quivering in fear and panic, “I thought you felt nothing… then… I killed him… I killed them all! Then I saw the real you! I've never felt so alive in my life! It was brilliant, your emotions were so raw, so pure, so real, I'll never understand those feelings, but I've never seen someone so… vivid before!”

Sans could feel his soul cowering, screaming at him to run out, grab his brother, and never come near the child again. But he was frozen, whether out of fear or stubbornness, something deep within him was paralyzing.

“Even right now, you seem so alive… I wish I felt that… I wish I didn't have to just blend in. But, when I came to the underground, when I first killed that froggit, I felt something inside me, I felt human.” They smiled bittersweetly, not seeming to understand how revolting what they were saying was. They seemed to have no concept of right and wrong. They were empty.

The child stopped talking, but still held an iron grip on Sans, staring into his empty eyes as his eye-lights slowly began to refill the voids, enlarging more than usual. His brows pushed together, his permanent smile looking more and more like a grimace, “you fucking psychopath-"

“Sociopath.” Frisk corrected, their face now blank.

Sans froze, taken aback, before shaking it off, ripping away from the child’s arms and leaping off the bed, “how do ya not see that what you did was wrong?!”

The child just shrugged, seeming indifferent.

Sans’ face looked bizarre, panicked, his eye-lights flicked all over the child, “i…” he snarled, stopping himself from finishing his sentence, but the child read his mind.

“You want to tell them, don't you?” They smirked, “But you can't, they'll only think you're insane, not me. I'm safe, you're on thin ice. Funny how things work, right… comedian?”

Sans could have sworn he saw a glimmer of red in the human’s eyes. He stood there, and stared at them, trying to piece together everything they had told them. His soul pounded against his bone, but he knew they were right. They were right...

Sans gulped, sucking in a deep breath of air before his stiff posture loosened to something more familiar. The skeleton held his composure, his eye-lights flicking to the floor before going back to the human, “you're right… i’m sorry…”

Frisk’s face scrunched, “Sorry? For what?”

His eye-lights vanished.

“i'm sorry i made the promise to protect you…"

Sans squinted at the child, his grin being stretched to a painfully uncomfortable point.

"...frisk.”

His grin strained, breaking for a moment before he vanished from the child’s room.

Frisk smiled.

“Touché, comedian…touché.”

…

Sans fell out of his teleportation, slamming into his bedroom floor, he darted to his door, locking it frantically before sliding down it, curling up into himself.

Ba-dum

Ba-dum

Ba-dum

His soul was racing.

He felt like he'd finally lost it.

He gripped his skull in panic as the realization that he was completely under the child’s control set in.

He knew he was under their hand in the underground, but he still had his social life under control, he was still free to act as he wanted, now he felt caged like an animal. One wrong move and the child could easily make everyone think he'd gone mad.

He had to go back to being Mr. Nice Guy. He'd have to hide every emotion he felt around the child. He couldn't let them feel the need to kill again, he couldn't let them make the others think he's the lunatic either.

He had to stay quiet, not only for his safety, but for the others' safety as well.