4 days late, whoops

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The stars were out tonight. As they were every other night.

"It has been many years, since I have seen these constellations," Toriel whispered to him once. Sans had stared up at the vista, where the lights existed so far up above, hopeless to reach. Even though Frisk had told them all that humans were already making strides in doing so.

"changed much?" he asked her, genuinely curious. All that he had to go on were the gems back in Waterfall, stable in their positions, secure in their existence – so unlike the books he read on the subject.

"A very small fraction. I cannot tell you just how exactly, but…" Toriel pressed one large hand against her chest, chin upturned to that dark sky. "The sky is different from before, since I used to stargaze with my father."

It was the first time Sans had ever heard her talk about her parents, let alone her dad. "old man was a fan of space, huh?"

"Very much so!" A smile brightened her muzzle, and she graced that smile onto him. Light was reflected in her eyes, shades of gentle crimson, like the curled leaves of the changing seasons. (Change – what a weird thing that was). "He used to tell me so much about astrology… How the stars would predict how our day would go, and what they meant for our futures. I know it sounds a bit silly in retrospect, but it was always so comforting to me, just to hear him speak about something he dearly loved."

Sans wondered how that was like. "sounds neat. lemme guess, you were a capricorn, right?"

Toriel snickered. "Oh no, never!"

"a taurus?" Sans ventured.

She giggled even more. "Nope! I am not as easy to read as you may think."

This would've been worrisome, as Sans' only true talent was at reading people, but he couldn't fault the former Queen for one-upping him this round.

"guess ya got me, tori. mind teaching me a few astrological tricks? bet they're out of this world."

"Of course. It starts with knowing how the stars align, and…" She then took his hand, his thin, frail-looking phalanges engulfed in her downy fur. "Hmm, and knowing where the love lines are."

Sans blinked. "don't ya need palms for that?"

"Not necessarily. See, I've already figured out your sign." A blunt claw tapped at his metacarpals. "A Gemini."

"oh?"

"Yes, because you are certainly the gem of my eye!"

Sans laughed along with her, gratefully as they brushed aside the talk of fathers.

"SANS. THIS DRIVING LICENSE APPLICATION IS GETTING THE BEST OUT OF ME."

"how could anyone get the best of the coolest bro around?"

"I KNOW! I ASKED MYSELF THE VERY SAME QUESTION!" Papyrus held up the piece of paper he had been writing on for the past half hour. "I'VE ALREADY PUT MY LAST NAME AS BONES, AS YOU HAVE ADVISED ME. BUT NOW IT ASKS FOR MY MOTHER'S MAIDEN NAME? MY MOTHER IS NOT THE ONE DRIVING HERE."

Sans stretched out more on the couch, keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling of their new home. "yeah, that's pretty weird."

"AND WHY WOULD IT NOT ASK FOR MY FATHER'S MAIDEN NAME AS WELL? WOULD THAT NOT BE CONSIDERATE?"

"sounds like the test is being pretty rude about it."

"VERY WELL SAID, BROTHER. WHO KNEW THE PATH TO DRIVING A SUPER COOL CAR WOULD BE FRAUGHT WITH SUCH TRICKERY AND RUDENESS?"

Sans finally turned to his cool bro, who was seated at the kitchen table, pencil tapping away at his skull as he tried to answer to the best of his abilities.

"just put it as n/a."

"EN-AY?" Papyrus asked so confusedly, that Sans could very well imagine the clouds of question marks floating around his brother's skull. "WHY? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

"just stands for our parents are 'never around.'" Sans shrugged.

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets. "IS THAT REALLY WHAT IT MEANS?"

"course, bro. we never see our parents around anyway, right?"

"HMM. I SUPPOSE." Then, suddenly, his voice grew quiet. Or as quiet as Papyrus could ever speak. "WHY IS THAT THEN?"

And whenever Papyrus asked such a question, Sans was always prepared.

"because if they weren't around, they wouldn't be n/a."

His brother took a moment. "WHAT?"

"and then you wouldn't be able to put that down on your application. see?"

Papyrus' eye sockets went from narrow to wide-eyed and sparkling. "OH MY GOD. TO THINK SO FAR AHEAD. THEY MUST HAVE BEEN QUITE AMAZING INDEED."

"they sure must have been," Sans answered and, for the first in a long while, wondered if he had been lying just then or not.

"And then, just as he was about to swipe his trident at me, I punched him square in the face first! Ha!"

"S-so, that's how you beat up King Asgore?"

"Pretty much, yeah!"

As the occasional gym teacher for Toriel's school, Undyne was always ready to regale her students about her heroic escapades, like chasing down kids through marshes, and beating up their political leaders. And as the occasional science teacher for Toriel's school, Alphys would always make an excuse to visit her girlfriend, dragging around her class for a third field trip to the field-and-track outside.

For Sans, as the occasional loaf who liked to nap out on the bleachers and stealth-prank one of the kids or two, he would sometimes hear, from not too far away, just what Undyne and Alphys would talk about.

Undyne had loudly encouraged all the kids to start a 50-mile lap around the school, leaving her able to speak with Alphys freely. "Seriously though, it was probably one of the best fights I had… until I started feeling bad for the poor guy."

"That's understandable, t-though!" Alphys squeaked out. She was beaming in the sunlight, absorbing the warm summer sun, thriving well up on the Surface. Sans thought it suited her way more to be out here than back in the dark depths of a lab. Undyne, usually not the best with the heat, had six water bottles strapped to her waist.

"I mean, he did raise you and all… I'd feel bad too if I did the same."

"Yeah, but you should've seen the big goofball just hugging and smiling me after! Like, he was proud of me, ya know?"

Alphys nodded, tapping her claws together, suddenly hesitant. "We all want to do good for people like them. For our… dads, and stuff."

Undyne wrapped a fishy arm around the lizard, giving her affectionate smooch on her forehead. "You already do so much good already, Alph. Just know that you never have to prove anything to me!"

"W-wow, thank you, Undyne!"

Seeing that the smoochfest was about to arrive in all its PDA glory, Sans decided to take a shortcut. It was more difficult out here in the Surface – he was still finding new pathways, new branches into places he had never thought of before – but he was able to find the road toward home.

What did he have to prove though?

Did he ever had to prove something to begin with?

Once, bluntly, Sans had asked Frisk about where they come from. "why, kid?" he asked as they sat on Toriel's couch, after he had cheated the kid again at their video game for the tenth time. "what did you have to prove, climbing up that mountain?"

Frisk would not answer at first. They would not emote at all – unless one knew where to look, at the way their hands had gripped the controller, making the plastic creak.

Some things were not worth repeating. Some things were not worth remembering.

Sans had got the point, promptly dropping it. "hey, wanna mess up mettaton's makeup again before his big show?"

Frisk had turned to him, the hints of a smile tugging at their lips, making everything fine again.

If one knew about flowers as well as Asgore had, they would've seen the special patch he had created in his garden. All golden, all so lonesome. The king would kneel by this patch with care, carefully pruning the leaves, and shifting their soil placement just a tad so they could get a full view of the coveted sun.

An altar to those who have passed. To those who would never be. Who had never been.

When Sans had snuck into that garden to gaze upon that patch, he had to do all he could to not blast those flowers to ash. Some instincts are just so very difficult to ignore.

Frisk was different. They would always go to that flower patch, patting the flowers so gently, and then knock on the front door for their weekly visit to Asgore.

Sans had helped Frisk make their gift for good ol' Fluffybuns. He had never seen such a big, burly guy cry so freely after receiving a shirt saying, labeled in macaroni and glitter, 'For King Dad!' Or cry so loudly, either.

Sans can't imagine anyone else ever doing that.

Ever.

His new house also had a basement, too. It hid secrets and cobwebs and dust upon dust upon dust.

Photographs laid out on the floor before him, covering up the blueprints, blocking away those symbols that only hurt his skull with their very existence, knowing they should not have existed to begin with.

The drawing was the only thing that stood out; crude and sloppy. It hurt his skull worst of all.

He wasn't even sure this was right.

He wasn't even sure this was his dad.

A brother, a friend, a co-worker, an acquaintance, a rival, an enemy. The possibilities were numerous, endless.

Nah, that wasn't right.

When it came down to this face, to this thing, the possibilities were all null and void. They did not matter, not at all. They did not exist.

Pretty useless, really.

The picture had begged him to not forget.

But Sans was never good at keeping promises.

And some things were just not worth remembering.

Because he was afraid of what he would recall.

And if past experience had ever taught him anything… it really, truly just wasn't worth it.

Not at all.

"oh… hello…"

Seated by the tree, Sans hadn't expected to find the ghost right here.

"sorry… you looked like you were having fun until i came by…"

"nah," he reassured, wondering how him sitting all silent and by his lonesome looked like fun. "wanna watch the rain with me?"

Napstablook took a moment, then in silence, went to hover next to the skeleton. Sans couldn't really tell if the ghost was actually sitting down, but some details were best left ignored. Both looked up to the sky, which was cloudy and gray, obscuring all lights and all patterns that existed in the space above. There was the dull boom of thunder, heralding the beginning of summer showers – any second now.

Then he decided to be stupid.

"so where'd you come from, naps?"

Napstablook turned to him. There was nothing offended in their eyes, but something else. Considerate. "i don't know…" they said. "i just became."

"huh." Sans smiled. "me too, i guess."

"oh…" The ghost's voice changed, transformed into something more kind, if possible. "do you think that is okay?"

"dunno. do you?"

He had never seen anyone go over their answers so carefully. Not even Toriel, he assumed, could examine every angle of her own words just so. "i think if things are fine the way they are, then it is. unless… i'm wrong."

Sans leaned back, skull clunking against the tree trunk. He felt the first of raindrops begin to fall, sliding down his cranium. "i don't think so. if you trust my word, that is."

Napstablook smiled, then laid out on the grass.

The rain was gentle.

Those hands had been white, and large, and missing the greater part of themselves.

"It is all so very interesting, don't you think?" The readings, the machine, the very concept of their very existence.

Their very-

…

Sans could not remember what he had said in response.

All he knew was that before (before?) he could not look at the other (a stranger), he could not look into his eyes.

But it didn't matter anyway. It was just an impression, not a memory. To remember took so much effort.

That was what he had to believe.

And you can't forget what you never knew in the first place.