Sans worked for the government now. Some shiny new office job in a building he’d never bothered to walk through. It was somewhere in Washington, D.C., all glass and chrome, the kind of place that smelled faintly like coffee, paper, and politics. He didn’t need to know its layout; he could just take one of his shortcuts straight to his office whenever he felt like showing up. A blink, a shimmer of blue light, and he’d be there, slouched in his chair before anyone realized he was late again. Not that anyone ever tried to keep him on schedule anymore. The humans had learned pretty quickly that no one could make Sans do anything he didn’t want to. He ran on his own time, and yet, somehow, everything that needed to get done still got done. He was reliable, in his own backwards, lazy way.

This morning, though, he was actually at his desk on time, for once. A mug of coffee sat beside a messy stack of papers; half government reports, half doodles of bones, hot dogs, and little sketches of Papyrus in his military uniform. He sipped his coffee slowly, letting his mind wander. The office was quiet except for the soft hum of a computer and the muted conversation of humans in nearby cubicles. Every now and then, someone would pass his door, glance in at the strange skeleton sitting there, and then look away quickly, pretending not to stare. Sans didn’t mind. He was used to it.

Still, he missed the Underground sometimes. Missed the quiet snow of Snowdin, the way the air seemed softer down there, the simplicity of days spent napping instead of negotiating policies. He missed Grillby’s, the sound of his brother’s voice echoing through the cold halls as he practiced for the Royal Guard. Up here, the world was brighter but harsher too. There were too many rules, too many people watching. And while humans had gotten over their fear of monsters, Sans could still feel that tension sometimes. Hidden, subtle, but there.

Papyrus loved it, though. He’d joined the human military, all enthusiasm and pride, working side-by-side with soldiers who respected him instantly. He’d earned medals, friends, and attention, which was all he’d ever really wanted. Sans had taken this job to stay close, to keep an eye on things, to make sure the world stayed safe for his little brother. He didn’t trust humans easily, not after how things started; the fear, the lockdown, the near chaos when monsters had first stepped into the light.

But now, things had settled. Humans had learned that monsters weren’t their enemies, and that had a lot to do with Sans himself. He’d been the one to sit across from armed soldiers and bureaucrats, calm and quiet, explaining what magic was, what souls were, what the Underground had endured. He’d even handed over the old records; the dusty, ancient documents about the war between humans and monsters that had once been thought of as myth. Watching their faces when they realized it was all true had been…something.

He still got called to D.C. now and then for meetings with people who thought his presence 'symbolic' or 'important.' Even met the president a few times. Papyrus had nearly exploded with excitement the first time, telling everyone that his brother was 'a government advisor to the president of the United States!' Sans had just shrugged and said, “eh, guy’s alright, i guess.” To him, it was just another human, another day, another conversation. Nothing worth losing sleep over, though he’d still let Papyrus gush about it for days.

Now, sitting at his desk, doodling while the coffee cooled, Sans couldn’t help but smile faintly. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was stable. The world above still felt too loud sometimes, too bright, but it was home now. And as long as Papyrus was happy, safe, and dreaming big under the sun instead of the stone ceiling of the Underground, that was enough for him.