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.

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98. Fallout

Sans is sitting on one of the picnic table benches, his arm around Frisk's shoulders as he watches you and Asgore speak to the soldiers. There's more of them now; Sergeant Wilkes is kneeling on the ground and talking to Asriel while Toriel hovers over him, two others whose names he doesn't know are questioning the teenagers that started this whole mess. The rest of them are dispersing the crowd, sending them back to enjoy the festival. No reason to stop the event, they said, not for a minor scuffle.

He supposes that it should be telling, that the soldiers seem unfazed. Oh, they're frustrated, even a little angry, but they aren't surprised. Frisk shifts a little and tucks themselves closer, resting their head against his chest. He brings his hand up from their shoulder to their hair, stroking it in a way he knows is soothing. His eyes stay fixed on you and he watches you nod at whatever the soldier you're talking to is saying. She reaches out and squeezes your arm. You accept it with a smile and he makes out a 'thank you' on your lips.

Most of the humans Sans has encountered have been okay. Some of them he'd even call good. But things like this and the incident at Muffet's leave a sour taste in his mouth. It doesn't take much for the bad to outweigh the good.

"I can Load, go back to before all this happened," Frisk mumbles, holding onto his borrowed shirt. They tug on it absently. "It's just a couple hours."

Sans sighs. He'd already told them no, but he knew they wouldn't drop it so easily. "those humans came here to cause trouble. if it wasn't with kid it woulda been with somebody else. maybe do something worse."

"But that girl keeps lying and saying that Asriel started it. That he was gonna attack them." Their body tenses, anger in their voice. "He was just protecting me."

"i know kiddo. i'm pretty sure the soldiers know that too," he says. The two men talking to the teenagers look plainly disgusted, to Sans's relief. At least they have the military on their side.

"But we could go back, stop them before they do anything at all. Make it so there's nothing bad for people to take pictures of. Mom's worried about what people are gonna say," Frisk presses, tilting their head to look up at him with wide brown eyes. 

Sans pulls his arm away and sits back, fixing Frisk with a serious stare. They rub their bruised arm, wincing a little and trying to look away but he catches their chin and turns them back to look him in the eye. "we can't keep relying on your power to make things perfect. the world isn't gonna be perfect, no matter how hard you try, and we're never gonna move forward if you keep pulling us backwards. bad things will happen. things we wish didn't, but we just have to hope some good comes from it. if people don't remember their mistakes then they're never gonna learn from them."

Frisk bites their lip, glancing down and then back up again as their brow furrows in concentration. "Like how I did the same things over and over again, when I couldn't remember the Resets."

"yeah. just like that, kiddo."

You're drained by the time you're done talking to the soldiers. This is the first time they've have had to interfere with an incident, and thankfully they're taking it as seriously as you could hope. But you just want to go home and bury yourself under a pile of blankets and forget the outside world. You've had a very real reminder of just how shitty humans can be to someone different, and it stings.

Seeking out Sans and Frisk, you're making your way towards them when Deacon pushes his way past a few lingering onlookers. He's tugging off his fake beard and stuffing it into his hat, tucking them under his arm as he hurries to meet you. With mussed hair and wide eyes, he looks over you, then searches for Sans and Frisk, and then finally Toriel and her family before meeting your gaze again.

"Are you okay? I only just heard, I was over on the other side," he says, gesturing vaguely behind him.

"We're all fine," you answer, not stopping as you continue walking. Deacon follows you. "Give me a second, I need to talk to Sans."

Your fiancé looks up as you approach, frowning a little as he spots Deacon. Frisk reaches out and grabs your hand. "are we good to go?" Sans asks. "and what are they doing about those humans?"

"Yeah, I think so," you say, rubbing your forehead. "They said they're going to escort them off the mountain but it's not a bannable offense. They're just getting off with a warning, but their names are being recorded and flagged for if they come back again."

"what do you mean it's not bannable? they were harassing kids," he says, the furrow in his brow deepening.

"They can't do anything unless we choose to press charges, and—"

"so we press charges!"

"—and if we do that it will just makes things worse for Asriel," you say, biting your lip. "Sans he threatened them with magic."

"But he didn't do anything wrong!" Frisk protests, gaping up at you.

"I'm not saying he did, sweetie, but that's not how it's going to look to other people. And I know that's not fair," you say, cutting them off as they open their mouths to argue more. "Believe me. I know it's unfair. But that doesn't stop us from needing to be careful." 

Sans is shaking his head, gritting his teeth but keeping silent. You know he's just as frustrated as Frisk is, but your hands are tied. You're at the mercy of the government, and if people start thinking monsters are more dangerous than they already do, things will just get worse. It's best to keep your heads down and not draw any more attention to yourselves, even if it's not your fault. It's not lost on you that this is how you've lived your entire life with your mother. It's stifling.

"Where's Papyrus?" you ask, realizing that the taller skeleton is nowhere to be seen. They had arrived together after Frisk called Sans.

"he went with undyne and alphys. he's gonna stay here and help her and the others keep an eye on things until the festival is over. you know pap," he says, rubbing the side of his skull.

Frisk pulls away from Sans and stands up, looking past you. Before you can look to see why, Asriel appears, rushing to wrap Frisk up in his arms and bury his face in their shoulder. They're talking to each other, too quiet for you to hear, so instead you meet Sans's eyes. He pulls himself to his feet and reaches for you, tangling his fingers with yours and squeezing. You give him a weak smile, appreciating the small gesture.

"The important thing is that everyone is okay," you say, for his sake and yours. He nods.

"Hope," Toriel says, and as you turn towards the sound of her voice she comes up alongside the kids. Her eyes look a little glassy and you think she's been trying very hard not to cry. You can't imagine what it must have been like for her, seeing Asriel standing in the way of those three humans. "If it is okay with you I would like to take Frisk home with me. I think Asriel would be—"

"Of course," you blurt out, grasping her hand with your free one. "I totally understand."

She gives you a watery smile, nodding. "I will feel much better, knowing that they are together where I can watch over them."

Frisk is looking up at you, still holding onto Asriel as you go to hug them both. "Frisk, I'm proud of you for standing up for Kid, did I tell you that?"

"But didn't we just make everything worse?" Frisk mumbles into your shoulder, freeing one arm to hug you back. Asriel doesn't let go of Frisk, but he rests his head against you for a moment. It's enough.

"No, sweetie. Of course you didn't," you say, pressing a kiss to their temple. "Now, you go with Toriel and be good, okay? I love you."

"I love you too."

"Asriel, thank you for protecting Frisk. That was so brave." You lean to kiss the top of his head and he makes a small, embarrassed noise, ducking his head.

"It wasn't. I was just angry and scared," he says quietly, glancing up at you and then back down again.

"That doesn't mean I appreciate it any less." You let them both go and they look at you for a moment before Toriel reaches for their hands. You smile at them and she leads them away.

It's harder than it should be, watching Frisk leave with her. You know that they'll be safe and that Asriel needs them right now, but you were scared too. Your child was hurt and you weren't there to protect them. It's not right that they should have to deal with this kind of prejudice so young.

"babe, you ok?" Sans asks you, touching your waist.

You turn at the contact, wiping your eyes as you take in a steadying breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. This is just..." You grimace, shaking your head. "This is such bullshit. This was supposed to be something fun for the kids and just... ugh."

Deacon clears his throat and you remember that he's been standing there this whole time, waiting patiently. "So, what happened exactly?"

You give him an abbreviated account of what Frisk told Sergeant Wilkes, about Kid and the teenagers. How they treated Frisk and what Asriel almost did. You expect him to look angry or shocked but Deacon looks gutted. He shakes his head and turns away for a second, composing himself before turning back.

He opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again, pinching the bridge of his nose before running his hand through his hair. "Shit," he breathes, staring at the ground. "This is my fault."

"Deacon, there's no way this is—"

"yeah. it is," Sans says, his voice low and harsh.

Shocked, you gape at Sans as he glares up at Deacon, clenching his jaw. "What? Sans this isn't his fault," you blurt out, stepping away from him to put yourself between him and your friend.

Sans doesn't even seem to hear you. He jabs a finger at Deacon. "this whole thing was your idea. if you hadn't done this, nothing would have happened."

"Technically Mettaton is the one that did all this," you say, frowning at him.

"No, Sans is right. If I hadn't gone to Toriel, or listened to Mettaton and encouraged him to use this as a way to get more humans here the chances are this wouldn't have happened," Deacon admits, his tone even.

"Deacon, that isn't fair! The only people we should be blaming are the ones that caused the problem in the first place."

"who decides to throw some huge fair together their second week on the job, anyway? why were you so interested in doing this?" Sans presses, narrowing his eyes. The lights in his sockets are small pinpricks, fixed on Deacon. He isn't even listening to you.

That gets Deacon, though. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocks his head to the side, squaring his shoulders and looking down at him. "Are you trying to insinuate that I wanted something like this to happen?"

"yeah, why the hell not? you show up, move in with no notice whatsoever..."

"Sans!"

"Have I given you a reason not to trust me, Sans?" Deacon demands, lip curling. "Tell me what I've done."

Sans doesn't seem to have an answer ready for that. Taking advantage of his moment of silence, you put yourself bodily between the two of them, facing your fiancé. "Sans this is ridiculous! You can't possibly blame Deacon for all of this."

"why are you defending him, hope?" Sans snaps, fixing you with a cold, angry look.

But you're not backing down, not when he's being so completely irrational. Where the hell did this anger towards Deacon come from? "Because he's my friend!"

"are you sure that's the only reason?" he says, gritting his teeth.

You feel like a bucket of cold water was just dumped on your head. Something inside you panics, even as another part is outraged. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you manage to cut out, throat tight.

"i mean the two of you have been spending a lot of time together."

"There is nothing going on between us," you hiss, hands clenched into fists at your sides. "It was just a dream!"

You clap a hand over your mouth as the words tumble past your lips. Oh no.

"what?" "What?"

Sans's sockets are wide and he's finally looking at you, his jaw hanging open as he processes what you just said. You don't dare look at Deacon. You can't. You won't.

"Sans, it's nothing—"

"i'm not talking about this here," he says, and the emotionless tone of his voice has you trembling. "we're going home."

   
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