Chapter Text
When the monsters came to the surface, no one knew what to make of it. Not you, the government, or even the monsters themselves. However, in just a quick five or so years, life had fallen into a set motion for everyone, a waterwheel that constantly flowed with the monotony of everyday activities and routines. The monsters didn’t need terribly much, they didn’t even eat food quite like humans and they certainly knew how to fend for themselves. One thing required adjustment, though, and that was because everyone needed a purpose. Monsters, included.
That was how you found yourself where you were, selling something called Nice Cream on a barren street where cars didn’t even drive. Your customers didn’t amount to much, despite the popularity of Nice Cream skyrocketing after the first or so year of Monsters. The location simply wasn’t the best, but you did receive the occasional customer from time to time, and it was usually a Monster. Even after all this time, you still were put on edge by them, just how different and varying they were. You almost never saw two that were similar. (Almost, but you’ll get to that). It was hard to set aside your prejudice, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t just unlearn it all at once. Not all at once, at least.
It would be a lie, though, if you said you weren’t a bit pissed off at a certain Monster. Your co-worker, that is, if you could even call him that. He was a skeleton, short and, oddly enough, rather round. Sans was his name, and you have said maybe three words to him in your three months of working together. Again, if you can even call it that. He never showed up. Like, ever. The first day you were on the job, he didn’t even say hello, but he did introduce himself.
“I’m Sans. Hope you like selling Nice Cream.”
You kinda nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He was somehow intimidating despite his short stature and constant smile. Maybe that was what frightened you? At the time, you hadn’t understood what his statement meant, but you quickly figured it out over the next few days. Sans was there, maybe five minutes, but the second you looked away to serve a customer, he was gone, and he was gone until the end of the day. Once it was closing time, you saw him again, and said your first, and only, words to him.
“Where were you?” It came out sharper than you intended.
“Break. I take those.” He was so casual about it, grabbing half the tips from the jar, counting them, and then shoving them in his pocket as he walked away. Needless to say you were absolutely speechless. He never said much, just as much as he saw fit, and then he would leave. What an asshole.
Now, some days, another skeleton would come by, looking for Sans. He was rather tall, overly fond of himself, and quite loud in comparison to the usual crowd for the area. Somehow, you never caught his name or relation to Sans, just shook your head no whenever he stopped by. Sometimes the skeleton left a tip without even buying Nice Cream, just because he felt guilty for bothering you. You liked him, he seemed pretty nice. Obnoxious, but like, in a charming way, if that makes any sense. You wondered what relation he had to Sans, because it seemed he cared about the other’s whereabouts. Who were you to assume, though.
It had been three months. Three months of working alone, by all definition, and a part of you wondered if you could get Sans to stay. So you hatched a plan.
You woke in your small apartment, blankets half off the bed and your hair disheveled. It was a Tuesday morning, and you had work.
Getting out of bed, you stretched and yawned, a grogginess washing over you. School started back up next week and you wondered about the fate of the Nice Cream stall, seeing as you planned to quit on Friday. If you didn’t find a way to trick Sans into working by then, you had no idea what would happen. It was game day, and you had your game day face on. Oh...no don’t strain your face like that.
Uniform on, you headed out the door, It was cloudy and cold that day, which was perfect for your plan. Very few people buy Nice Cream when it’s colder out, so you could, theoretically, just maybe, keep an eye on Sans today. He only ever ‘took breaks’ when you weren’t looking, so maybe if you keep his in your sights constantly, he’ll never leave and actually help! It was brilliant, perfect, even! Only you could ever craft such a perfect plan. Oh great, now you sound like that other skeleton.
As you made it to the stall, you immediately saw Sans, eyes closed, hands in pockets, not even wearing the uniform, because why would he? When you drew closer, his right eye opened and he looked at you. A shiver went down your spine. That didn’t stop you, though, you kept staring at him, even as you walked around to your station and flipped the sign to say open, you kept your eyes right on his face. Er...skull. Thing. Head. His head made no sense, how do you even have bone eyelids?! Ugh, that didn’t matter.
The first customer arrived, and you still managed to resist the urge to look away from Sans, who had been and continued to stare straight ahead with that large smile of his. Asshole. You were so focused on thinking of him as an asshole, you ended up missing the dismount of nice cream to a cone completely, and covered your own hand in the cold substance. You cringed, fumbling around for a napkin and attempting to fix the mess you made. So much for a tip. Sans stared straight ahead, but his grin only got bigger, as if he saw and thought it was hilarious, but didn’t want to laugh in your face. Asshole. This time you managed to plop in the right place and shoved your hand out so that the customer could take their treat. They did, but with a grunt of disapproval and, as you expected, no tip could be heard. Asshole. Oh, not them, just Sans. The customer is always right.
This went on for more than twenty minutes, and just as you suspected, as long as you watched Sans, he didn’t move from his spot. Aha! It worked! Kind of. He still wasn’t doing anything to help, and he definitely wasn’t even looking at you! The nerve!
This continued all day, however, and you luckily only had five customers who came by. All disappointed by your work, no doubt. Sans still was there, unmoving, staring straight ahead.
As the day came to a close, you finally broke the stare and flipped the sign to closed. When you turned to look again, Sans was gone, and you felt the frustration boil up inside you. Until of course….
“You were staring at me.” It came from behind you. You whipped around and saw Sans with a tilted head staring right at you. Same big, stupid grin, though. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How do you even respond to that?
“I mean, I may be a bonehead, but I can’t be THAT fun to watch. Unless there was some other reason?” Oh god, what was he insinuating?! “But kudos, you kept me around. Now I’ll make like a skeleton and rattle on out of here.” Just as he began to reach for the near empty tip jar, you felt a voice actually come up out of you.
“Wait!!” It was a small shout, but louder than he would have ever heard you speak before. His hand stopped, his smile shrunk only a bit, but now you noticed this kind of thing after staring at him for so many hours. But now you had to talk again, oh jeez, this was the worst plan of all time, wasn’t it? Now you WISH you had the confidence that other skeleton has.
“I’m, ya know, still waiting here....” Sans was looking in your direction, still with his hand raised towards the tip jar. “I AM a skeleton, so I’m patient...nothing gets under our skin.” He looked ready to laugh at his own joke. You just sighed in disdain and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. Maybe you should have thrown in the towel awhile back.
“Nevermind.” You began to walk away, not even taking your share of tips for the day.
That’s when you ran into the other skeleton, and fell flat on your ass.