Would That Make You Happy?

Frisk is your child, the result of a teen pregnancy, but they've always been told that you're their older sister. In an effort to get away from your own abusive mother, the two of you end up falling into the Underground, where Sans is startled by this abrupt change in what had become a predictable pattern of events. Maybe your presence is what is needed to stop the endless cycle of Resets.

After many struggles, both internal and external, you and your found family reach the surface, only to face even more difficulties from the society you weren't sure you'd ever see again. You meet new friends and encounter people from your past, though for good or ill, you're not sure. Sometimes it's difficult to tell kindness from cunning.


79. Deacon

"Oh, so you have already met!" Toriel says, beaming from Deacon's side.

You're distracted by what seems to be a hint of a black tattoo on his right arm, peeking from under his long sleeve as you shake hands. Realizing that this moment is stretching out a bit longer than necessary, you let go and look at Toriel, fighting an embarrassed blush. "He helped me out with a nasty reporter at the conference," you tell her, then turn back to Deacon. "Thank you again, by the way. How did you know my name?"

"Don't mention it, really," he says, waving away your thanks. "And last I checked you've been in the news, it wasn't hard to recognize you."

"My child you should have told me you had trouble yesterday. And thank you very much Mr. Stuart for helping her," Toriel says, giving you an admonishing look.

"I didn't want to worry you, it got handled," you say. Not to mention you didn't need Toriel and Asgore going on the defensive for you on such an important day. You glance between the monster and human on your doorstep, feeling a little unsure. "Um, did you want to come in, or...?"

"Oh, you know what, my car is parked in the middle of the road outside," Deacon says, jerking his thumb behind him towards the driveway.

"yeah, and don't we have some moving to do?" Sans says, with no hint of whatever frustration that was you heard earlier. As you give him a curious look, he just returns with his normal, lazy smile. Maybe he was just surprised earlier. You hadn't expected to see Deacon again either.

"Oh, yes of course. I am sure everyone can relax and get to know one another better afterwards," Toriel says, glancing inside the house over your head. "Are the children upstairs?"

"They ran off into the woods after lunch. I made sure they had their phones if you want them to come back early, but I thought it might be easier to do all this without them underfoot."

"That is fine, I was hoping they might meet their new teacher a little early, but there is still dinner. Maybe we can—"

Deacon raises both his hands, shaking his head and looking a little startled. "Whoa whoa whoa, okay no need to make a fuss, really. I don't want to intrude."

"yeah, tori, no need to pressure the guy," Sans says with a shrug.

"Please, I insist!" Toriel presses.

"I'll be busy unpacking and you've already been more than generous, Ms. Dreemurr," Deacon says, and you almost feel bad for how desperately he's trying to get out of this. Toriel can come on a little strong.

"Just Toriel, if you do not mind Mr. Stuart."

He gives an awkward half-smile, resting his hands on his hips. "I'll make you a deal. You drop the 'Mr. Stuart' and I'll drop the 'Ms. Dreemurr'."

With a polite laugh, she nods. "Very well, Deacon."

Deacon gives a little nod in return, running his hand through his hair. "See? Much nicer. Now, how about I get out of the middle of the road—"

"You are trying to change the subject," she counters, narrowing her eyes and wagging her finger. "Please, let us welcome you to Ebott with dinner. You should not have to worry about food on your first evening here."

"Really, I've got some stuff I brought from my old place, you don't have to do that," he says, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

"i'm gonna go get papyrus, babe. be right back," Sans says, running his hand along your back before pulling away. He waits for you to give him a nod to show you've heard him before he vanishes. Shit, he really wasn't kidding about not hiding anything from the new neighbor, was he?

You glance over at Deacon to gauge his reaction and aren't surprised to see him staring a little wide-eyed at the spot where Sans was standing a second ago. He catches you looking and blinks, clearing his throat and hooking his thumbs on his jeans.

"You get used to it," you offer, accompanied by a nervous smile. "And, um, trust me, it's easier to just give in to Tori, she's gonna get you over for dinner sooner or later."

Deacon glances from you to Toriel, looking a little cornered. Then, with a sigh and a dramatic shrug of his shoulders, he relents. "Okay, okay, I can see when I'm beaten. You're both just too much for me."

Beaming, Toriel clasps her hands together in front of her chest. "Oh wonderful! I should run to the store then, now that I will be cooking for eight."

"Eight?" Deacon asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

"You go ahead, I think me and the boys can take it from here," you tell her, trying not to laugh. "We'll see you tonight."

"Of course. Thank you again for doing this, and be sure to thank Sans and Papyrus for me," Toriel says, bending down to give you a warm hug.

As she says her farewell to Deacon and heads down the path away from the house, you can see the wheels spinning in the man's head, wondering just what he got himself into. You finally do laugh, tucking some hair behind your ear. "Yes, she's always like that," you say.

"It's like she walked out of a sitcom. I didn't think people like that existed," he says, giving you a bewildered expression. "It just isn't human."

"Nope, it's not," you agree. "The definition of 'monstrous' needs to be updated in the dictionary."

"No shit..." He stares down the the road, following Toriel with his eyes before his head whips around to look at you, startled. "I mean, I don't mean to imply that she's inhuman I was just saying that..." He trails off as you start giggling, narrowing his eyes. "You knew what I meant, didn't you?"

"Yeah," you say, nodding.

"Well, I'm going to pick up the shattered remnants of my dignity and I'll meet you and, um... the others down at the house," Deacon says with a good-natured chuckle. "Thanks again for the help, I'm sure Toriel wrangled you into this..."

You hold up a hand, shaking your head. "Don't worry about it. It's nice to have another human nearby and we're glad to help. Besides, what's family for if not to strongarm you into being nice?"

Deacon raises a brow at that. "Family, huh? Sounds like a long story. Maybe you'll have to explain that one some time." He shrugs. "Anyway. Car. Middle of road. Going now."

With a little wave he turns on his heel and walks off.

A few minutes later you and the brothers are walking down the road towards Deacon's house. Papyrus won't stop talking about how excited he is to meet your new neighbor, having already scolded Sans for not getting him sooner. Sans, by contrast, is quiet at your side, fingers laced together with yours. He seems fine, but you can tell something is bugging him. 

"Well, Deacon seems nice enough," you say, testing the waters.

"i guess so," he says, glancing up at you. He doesn't seem convinced.

Well, you've only just met the guy, it's not fair to expect much more than that. There's a break in the trees lining the road as the driveway comes into view, leading up to the little house a few minutes' walk from yours. The three of you turn up it, and parked in front of a small carport is a small U-Haul trailer. You can't see the car that pulled it from this angle, but it must be a truck or something because it's pretty big. Deacon has the back door open, eyeing the boxes inside as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. You can see more of his tattoo now, a blackwork sleeve down to his wrist from what you can tell. As you get closer you can make out birds —ravens, or crows maybe?— and forks of lightning. That must have taken forever to do, and you wonder just how much of him is covered.

"HELLO NEW HUMAN!" Papyrus calls out, waving energetically even though Deacon isn't looking yet.

"Oh, hey there— Oh." He turns to look at the three of you, eyes widening as his gaze falls on the center of Papyrus's chest then moves up to his face. "Shit, okay, taller than I was expecting."

"YES I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM QUITE TALL. I WORKED VERY HARD TO GET LIKE THIS, THANK YOU FOR NOTICING!" He's grinning, striding up to Deacon and offering his hand.

With an amused expression, Deacon shakes it. He glances at Sans, and you see his eyes flick down to your joined hands. "If it wasn't for the striking family resemblance I'd think you two weren't related."

"what can i say, i got the short end of the stick," Sans says. "this is my bro, papyrus. papyrus, deacon."

"You sure that he didn't just get the whole stick?" he asks, smirking.

"nice one, pal." He sounds friendly enough. Like he's at least giving him a chance. "now, as much as i'd love to sit out here swapping jokes, i think we've got some boxes to move."

"OF COURSE. DEACON, PLEASE TELL US WHERE YOU WOULD LIKE MY BROTHER AND I TO PUT THESE BOXES. WE HAVE PLENTY OF PRACTICE MOVING FROM WHEN WE GOT OUR NEW HOUSE SO DON'T WORRY!" Papyrus rests his hands on his hips, beaming. He might look a bit more impressive if he wasn't wearing a neon striped shirt and acid wash jeans. It looks a bit like the 90's threw up all over him.

"That's very reassuring," Deacon says, chuckling. "Really, a huge comfort. Well, all the boxes are marked by room, so I guess just pick one and— oh, okay." He stares as Papyrus walks past him and grabs a stack of three boxes, hefting them up and carrying them with ease. "That works too."

"my bro's pretty strong for someone without any muscles," Sans says with a wink. He releases you, and with a flick of his left hand he's got his own stack of boxes wreathed in a faint blue glow. What the heck is he doing? As you restrain a noise of protest, Sans just nudges you with his shoulder. "i have to admit, i prefer a different approach."

"Well aren't you a small package full of surprises." Deacon is taking this all remarkably well, you think. Part of you wants to shove Sans for showing off, but you resist.

"i like to think i'm fun sized," Sans retorts, giving you a wink with his dark right socket. "c'mon babe, grab a box."

"Yeah, I'll be right behind you," you tell him, giving him a look that you hope says 'I'm onto you, quit messing around'. He hesitates for a second, glancing at Deacon before heading inside with the boxes hovering ahead of him. You sigh, closing the distance between you and the trailer. "Sorry, are you okay? I know it's a lot to take in."

Deacon just laughs, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest as he gives you an amused look. "I was hired by a seven foot lady that kind of looks like a goat who I think is also a queen. Not to mention all the, to be blunt, freaky shit I saw just on my way through town. Have you eaten at that spider bakery before? Do they actually make their stuff out of spiders?" He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes closed and holding up a hand. "You know what? I don't want to know. The point is, I think I can handle incredibly strong skeletons and levitation. Oh, let's not forget the teleporting. I'm assuming that was teleporting and not invisibility."

Covering your mouth with one hand, you're trying your best not to burst into laughter. "So far I haven't met anyone with invisibility, and definitely not from Sans."

"Okay, but how would you know if you ever met someone with invisibility?" he points out, giving you a crooked smile.

Now you can't help but laugh. "Touché. There are ghosts though, did anyone tell you about the ghosts?"

"Why not ghosts? Shit you've got a walking skeleton for a..." he hesitates, raising a brow at you.

Sans doesn't want any secrets. Not here at home. Swallowing, you feel a little nervous as you say, "Fiancé."

"Fiancé, thank you and congratulations I suppose." He doesn't even blink at that, maybe Toriel talked to him about you? She must have, before bringing him to meet you, right? Well, no matter what, it's a relief. "So why not ghosts too. Next you'll be telling me there's, oh I dunno... vampires?" Deacon turns to the trailer, wrapping his arms around a smaller box and offering it to you. "Here, this one's not too heavy."

"Thanks," you say, smiling. "And no, thankfully no vampires. Actually, not many monsters that look human, now that you mention it. I mean, human shaped maybe." You turn to head towards the house but stop halfway, biting your lip before facing Deacon again. "Look, I've had a lot of time to adjust to all of this, and trust me when I say that everyone is great. But it'll be really nice having another human around, so if you need to talk or have any questions, I'm just next door. And I'll be at the school too. You know what, remind me to give you my cell number just in case. It's a huge adjustment, and I at least had Sans to help me."

"Really, I'm..." Deacon's smirking, but as he catches your eye it falters a little. Rubbing the back of his neck, he nods. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

As you start to head towards the house again you see it. The car that's pulling the trailer. It's a little, pea soup green Civic coupe from... you don't even know. Before you were born. The roof has rust spots and the paint is faded and cracked. It looks like there's some duct tape on the rear bumper. It's the kind of car your friends got in high school and replaced as soon as they could. To put it plainly, it looks like a piece of shit.

"Oh my god, how did you get up the mountain in that car, let alone pulling a trailer?" you blurt out, giving Deacon a horrified look.

"What, Sylvie?" he says, giving the car an affectionate look. Because of course it has a name. "We've been through a lot together. There's a lot more to her than it looks, believe me. Pulling a trailer is a piece of cake... as long as you don't want to go more than forty."

"You can afford a house but not a new car?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"A cheap house, and—" he lets out a mock gasp. "Have you no respect?"

Rolling your eyes but smiling all the same, you turn back to head towards the house. "Okay, okay. Weirdo."

"Pot meet kettle," he calls after you.

You suppose that's true.

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