Who: Sans + Lara + Miles When: Directly after this. Where: Observation deck + Miles' office What: The inevitable aftermath. Warnings: Talk of murder, genocide, and sad stuff probably.
It sounds horrible when she says it, and Sans can't really find it in himself to argue. That's exactly what he did. The proof is in the body by his feet. But he also can't manage to summon much remorse for them, either.
Honestly, most of what he feels is numbness. She could throw something else and it would probably hit this time.
"Heh, you're right." He chuckled, looking down at the body with a distant sort of humor. "Looks pretty bad, doesn't it?"
She would throw something, except her hands are curling into fists, short nails pressing in her palm.
"Stop laughing." This comes out as a hiss. She had heard him laughing, just before, it's what made her go into the garden to begin with. Now the sound of it makes her feel sick. "Just shut up."
She looks terrible. Even as distracted and numb as Sans feels, he can't avoid noticing that. She cared about him. That was sort of dumb of her, but then again, he cared about her too.
They were both dumb.
"Alright," he agreed, lamely. There wasn't much fight left in him at this point. Still, he stopped laughing.
The problem is there's plenty of fight left in her, but... This isn't one that she wants to fight, that she could stand to. She can hardly take being in this room, but just leaving seems even more wrong.
She turns sharply, stalking through the garden, then turning and tracing her path back. She needs to call someone, probably, but god who.
"I'm calling Miles," she says before the idea even has the chance to take firm root.
She turns at the sound of his voice, drawing herself up in a show of silent rage her titled ancestors would have been pleased by. The thought doesn't occur to her, only the wild desire to lash out.
She's a towering pillar of strength. Hell, Sans is almost proud of her. Tough as nails and not letting anyone pull shit, not even him. It's an admirable quality, one many of the people in his life lacked.
Who would ever need someone as useless as you. Cheap bait, roared at him by a desperate and furious child. But bait or not, they were right in this case.
Lara didn't need him. Never did, really. And that's okay, Sans is sure. In fact, it's better this way. Not that she would remember any of this when the timeline reset, but maybe some vestige would hold over. Maybe she would keep her distance next time, even if she can't quite place why.
Yeah. Better this way. Even if the sucking feeling in Sans' chest is starting to ache.
"Heh, nah, you're right. No need to get short, L, that's Miles' job."
It's a terrible joke. He's told her so many by now, sent her even more, that her first impulse is to laugh. It gets tangled up in her anger, lodging like broken glass in her lungs.
She can't speak for a moment, the seconds spiraling out into a solid minute, as she stares at him. She wants to scream and cry and demand that he make things right, that he stop this. It would be childish. And there aren't any children left in this room.
"Just be quiet." Her voice is soft and dead. She'd think it a mercy she hasn't started crying, but she can't think past the cold spreading through her. She turns her back on him, half wildly hoping to feel the magic bones slamming into her, even knowing he would never, and calls Miles.
He waits through the call, abiding by her request. It's the least he can do. Heh, quite literally the least. Useless, wasn't that the word? Heck if it wasn't accurate.
Lara's voice is quiet and Sans can't quite overhear, which is honestly a blessing. He never made a habit of caring what other people thought of him, but there are a few select people who have the dubious honor of him giving a shit. The woman behind the door, Papyrus (and wouldn't he be so proud to see his brother like this), and now Lara.
Gotta admit, this had to be a land speed record for him letting someone down.
Once she's off the phone, Sans gathers his words. Finally.
She looks at him, helpless and hurt. It's not far from the look she gave him when they first met, though she at least is more coherent. Barely a month ago and why had she come to care so much about him.
She doesn't know if she can bring herself to regret it, even as it hurts.
"Tell me how." Her voice is quiet, her reactionary anger subdued for now, leaving her numb.
Honestly, Sans wasn't prepared for her to ask. He expected another barb, maybe a reminder to stop talking -- something he could acquiesce to easily enough before diving back into his own numb absence of thought.
And yet here she is, asking him. Sans actually finds himself at a loss for a few moments.
"They're dangerous. To us." He frowns down at the body, trying to ignore how his slippers were now sopping with blood. "Papyrus wasn't safe."
And here he is, laughing again, because wasn't? The past tense didn't apply.
"Isn't safe," he corrects, still chuckling to himself. "Isn't safe. No monster is."
"All of this, you, me, them." He juts a careless hand towards the body, completely beyond remorse. "It's not even going to be here soon. You won't even remember this. Hell, we might be back on Emiri, I've got no idea when they last SAVEd..."
Even to anyone in his world, it would sound crazy. Hell, hearing himself say it aloud like this, Sans can hear how nuts it sounds.
"Look-- time, Lara? Time is not a flat surface. And your first mistake is thinking that any of it matters." He still sounds insane and he knows it, but there's simply no other way to explain it. "We're all caught up in it. I don't know if it will be tonight or tomorrow or the next day, but this is all going to go away."
It does sound crazy. It sounds like something she might have stumbled on in Matthias' logs and the comparison is enough to send a new wave of pain shooting through her. She wishes even a fraction of it where physical, that, at least, she knows.
"I don't know how this works in your world," she begins, slowly, "I can't even argue that it's not how it works in mine..." Not her expertise, but also not the point. She gestures to the body on the ground. "Things like this don't just go away, Sans. Memories like this don't just go away."
She knows that, straight down to the marrow, has seen that. Every time she goes to sleep. Every time she closes her eyes.
"They're not supposed to, you're right." He agrees with her on that point, rubbing at his eyesocket with the palm of his hand. He looks and sounds as exhausted as he feels, the force of it hitting him like a wave. He could go to sleep right now. It wouldn't even be that hard.
"I probably could've waited it out. I did it before. It didn't work, but hey. Lazy is as lazy does, right?"
He cracks a wider smile, finally looking her in the eye again. His eye sockets are an inky black, light snuffed out of the completely.
"Guess I didn't want any new nightmares, kiddo. Pretty selfish of me, huh? But look who I'm talking to, you know all about that. We're a real dream team, the two of us."
It's so terribly obvious how tired he is and she nearly softens just at that. The comparison sends ice running through her. Sans is... They had clicked together, so fast and effortlessly, like Sam had sent him to keep an eye on her while they were apart. It was easy to forget that he didn't know. He has only a vague idea of what she's done.
"What did they do, Sans." She thinks she knows, or at least has an idea, what might push someone like Sans to kill.
It's an immense question. Bigger than Sans' has words to answer it with.
Devastated my home town. Laid waste to my entire race. Backed us into corners while they hunted us. Killed children. Decapitated my brother while I watched like an idiot and did nothing.
"It's not important what they did." It's a cop out, but he's tired. And the idea of even speaking those words aloud to anyone, even Lara, makes the thought of them getting back around to his brother too real. "It's done. And I've given up going back to fixing it. There's no home for me anymore, this ship is alls I've got."
Sans laughs, rubbing at his eye again.
"Kinda dopey of me to try and protect it, but hey. Never let it be said I don't know how to bone things up."
She doesn't know what to say to that. Doesn't know what to feel. Cold. Like the floor's gone out from under her. She looks down again, reflectively. She wants... She doesn't know what she wants.
She lets the tension go out of her legs, sliding down to the floor and stares at the body and the puddle of blood and thinks about Yamatai. Smoke and snow and bullets tearing through flesh, the solid impact of a fist against her face and the screams of men as she fought and killed. Thinks about the dying man, trapped under rubble, begging for death. The jump of the shotgun had felt like redemption and damnation in the same breath.
That she doesn't hurt now, that she isn't bleeding, feels strangely out of place and wrong.
Watching her drop to the floor, Sans remains rooted. He doesn't go to her side. He doesn't offer words of encouragement or relief or concern.
There's simply nothing left to say.
Miles will be here soon. Sans looked back to the body, lifeless and misshapen. There's blood, of course -- less than you might think, but more than anyone wants. Someone is going to have to clean this up.
Might as well be him.
Magic made short work of things, as Sans vanished what he could and collected the rest. The floor was still tinted red and smelled of copper, but it was less grisly. Of course, save the body. Sans had no idea what to do with that.
Looking over his shoulder to Lara, the sensation of complete uselessness only seemed to grow.
The magic doesn't register as something that's happening, but his voice pulls her out of the darkness of her own memories, out of Yamatai. It's just a shame the place she returns to is full of another pain, the smell of blood lingering.
She can look away from the body and focus on him, just him for the time being. "What is it?"
"I get if you don't want to, but I figure this isn't gonna stay quiet long." He doesn't bother motioning to the body. She's not stupid. She knows. "There's probably gonna be a lot to say about me. My brother's gonna hear about it, I know."
Sans heaves a sigh. He doesn't want to think about it, his brother seeing him in this light. Hell, he's taken pains his whole life to protect Papyrus from that. Or maybe he was, and is, just protecting himself. Probably the latter, if he's being honest.
"I'd like him to hear it from you. He knows who you are and it'll be better coming from a familiar face. I don't care what you say, just..." Another shrug. Sans looks fit to fall asleep right there, even if there's a tightness to his eyes and his voice that's wholly new. "If you could make it easy on him, I'd really appreciate it."
His brother. Of course. She's heard so much about him, seen him a little on the network. Telling Papyrus that his brother's killed someone is a hell of an introduction. Still, she nods.
"All right. Yes, I'll tell him." She hasn't a single idea how she's going to do it, but she also doesn't know how she'll be able to look at Sans again.
And he does look relieved, for all Lara wouldn't see it. That uncomfortable business dealt with, Sans could only wait for Miles to arrive. Wouldn't be long now. A few things came to mind to say, But Sans dismisses them all out of hand. They were either too many words or nowhere near enough, and besides...
He had the feeling Lara wasn't going to be lingering around too long once Miles showed up.
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no subject
Honestly, most of what he feels is numbness. She could throw something else and it would probably hit this time.
"Heh, you're right." He chuckled, looking down at the body with a distant sort of humor. "Looks pretty bad, doesn't it?"
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"Stop laughing." This comes out as a hiss. She had heard him laughing, just before, it's what made her go into the garden to begin with. Now the sound of it makes her feel sick. "Just shut up."
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They were both dumb.
"Alright," he agreed, lamely. There wasn't much fight left in him at this point. Still, he stopped laughing.
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She turns sharply, stalking through the garden, then turning and tracing her path back. She needs to call someone, probably, but god who.
"I'm calling Miles," she says before the idea even has the chance to take firm root.
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So much for his vow of silence. Sans didn't look uncomfortable with the idea, per se, but there is a definite twinge to his voice when he presses her.
"Sure you want to wake him up for this?"
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"Would you prefer I call one of the captains."
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Who would ever need someone as useless as you. Cheap bait, roared at him by a desperate and furious child. But bait or not, they were right in this case.
Lara didn't need him. Never did, really. And that's okay, Sans is sure. In fact, it's better this way. Not that she would remember any of this when the timeline reset, but maybe some vestige would hold over. Maybe she would keep her distance next time, even if she can't quite place why.
Yeah. Better this way. Even if the sucking feeling in Sans' chest is starting to ache.
"Heh, nah, you're right. No need to get short, L, that's Miles' job."
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She can't speak for a moment, the seconds spiraling out into a solid minute, as she stares at him. She wants to scream and cry and demand that he make things right, that he stop this. It would be childish. And there aren't any children left in this room.
"Just be quiet." Her voice is soft and dead. She'd think it a mercy she hasn't started crying, but she can't think past the cold spreading through her. She turns her back on him, half wildly hoping to feel the magic bones slamming into her, even knowing he would never, and calls Miles.
no subject
Lara's voice is quiet and Sans can't quite overhear, which is honestly a blessing. He never made a habit of caring what other people thought of him, but there are a few select people who have the dubious honor of him giving a shit. The woman behind the door, Papyrus (and wouldn't he be so proud to see his brother like this), and now Lara.
Gotta admit, this had to be a land speed record for him letting someone down.
Once she's off the phone, Sans gathers his words. Finally.
"It's not what you think it is, kiddo."
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She doesn't know if she can bring herself to regret it, even as it hurts.
"Tell me how." Her voice is quiet, her reactionary anger subdued for now, leaving her numb.
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And yet here she is, asking him. Sans actually finds himself at a loss for a few moments.
"They're dangerous. To us." He frowns down at the body, trying to ignore how his slippers were now sopping with blood. "Papyrus wasn't safe."
And here he is, laughing again, because wasn't? The past tense didn't apply.
"Isn't safe," he corrects, still chuckling to himself. "Isn't safe. No monster is."
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"That doesn't make sense," she tells him, frowning, and that's almost an emotion, "What do you mean?"
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Even to anyone in his world, it would sound crazy. Hell, hearing himself say it aloud like this, Sans can hear how nuts it sounds.
"Look-- time, Lara? Time is not a flat surface. And your first mistake is thinking that any of it matters." He still sounds insane and he knows it, but there's simply no other way to explain it. "We're all caught up in it. I don't know if it will be tonight or tomorrow or the next day, but this is all going to go away."
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"I don't know how this works in your world," she begins, slowly, "I can't even argue that it's not how it works in mine..." Not her expertise, but also not the point. She gestures to the body on the ground. "Things like this don't just go away, Sans. Memories like this don't just go away."
She knows that, straight down to the marrow, has seen that. Every time she goes to sleep. Every time she closes her eyes.
no subject
"I probably could've waited it out. I did it before. It didn't work, but hey. Lazy is as lazy does, right?"
He cracks a wider smile, finally looking her in the eye again. His eye sockets are an inky black, light snuffed out of the completely.
"Guess I didn't want any new nightmares, kiddo. Pretty selfish of me, huh? But look who I'm talking to, you know all about that. We're a real dream team, the two of us."
no subject
"What did they do, Sans." She thinks she knows, or at least has an idea, what might push someone like Sans to kill.
no subject
Devastated my home town. Laid waste to my entire race. Backed us into corners while they hunted us. Killed children. Decapitated my brother while I watched like an idiot and did nothing.
"It's not important what they did." It's a cop out, but he's tired. And the idea of even speaking those words aloud to anyone, even Lara, makes the thought of them getting back around to his brother too real. "It's done. And I've given up going back to fixing it. There's no home for me anymore, this ship is alls I've got."
Sans laughs, rubbing at his eye again.
"Kinda dopey of me to try and protect it, but hey. Never let it be said I don't know how to bone things up."
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She lets the tension go out of her legs, sliding down to the floor and stares at the body and the puddle of blood and thinks about Yamatai. Smoke and snow and bullets tearing through flesh, the solid impact of a fist against her face and the screams of men as she fought and killed. Thinks about the dying man, trapped under rubble, begging for death. The jump of the shotgun had felt like redemption and damnation in the same breath.
That she doesn't hurt now, that she isn't bleeding, feels strangely out of place and wrong.
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There's simply nothing left to say.
Miles will be here soon. Sans looked back to the body, lifeless and misshapen. There's blood, of course -- less than you might think, but more than anyone wants. Someone is going to have to clean this up.
Might as well be him.
Magic made short work of things, as Sans vanished what he could and collected the rest. The floor was still tinted red and smelled of copper, but it was less grisly. Of course, save the body. Sans had no idea what to do with that.
Looking over his shoulder to Lara, the sensation of complete uselessness only seemed to grow.
Ah, well.
"Hey, Lara. Can you do me a favor."
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She can look away from the body and focus on him, just him for the time being. "What is it?"
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Sans heaves a sigh. He doesn't want to think about it, his brother seeing him in this light. Hell, he's taken pains his whole life to protect Papyrus from that. Or maybe he was, and is, just protecting himself. Probably the latter, if he's being honest.
"I'd like him to hear it from you. He knows who you are and it'll be better coming from a familiar face. I don't care what you say, just..." Another shrug. Sans looks fit to fall asleep right there, even if there's a tightness to his eyes and his voice that's wholly new. "If you could make it easy on him, I'd really appreciate it."
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"All right. Yes, I'll tell him." She hasn't a single idea how she's going to do it, but she also doesn't know how she'll be able to look at Sans again.
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And he does look relieved, for all Lara wouldn't see it. That uncomfortable business dealt with, Sans could only wait for Miles to arrive. Wouldn't be long now. A few things came to mind to say, But Sans dismisses them all out of hand. They were either too many words or nowhere near enough, and besides...
He had the feeling Lara wasn't going to be lingering around too long once Miles showed up.