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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75. Honesty and Trust

Sans knows he should feel grateful to that guy for helping you out when he couldn't, but he's not. He just feels bitter. It should have been himcoming up with an excuse to pull you away, but he'd been so worried of somehow making everything worse that it was like he was paralyzed. And something about the human just bugs him. There's a nagging feeling in the back of his head. Something that sets his teeth on edge. This whole mess feels like a huge mistake, letting all these humans in here, giving them the run of the place, it's not—

You lace your fingers between his and he takes a moment to ground himself. Looking up at you, he notices the way your lips are pressed into a thin line, your warm brown eyes darting over the crowd anxiously. He gives you a small squeeze with the arm already around your waist.

"babe, you ok?" he asks you.

"I'm fine," you say, but he's not sure you're being entirely honest. You stroke your fingers through Frisk's hair and won't look at him, keeping your eyes on the blur of people and monsters all around you.

"i should have helped you."

"How, by getting mad at Gloria? That would have just made things worse for the rest of you," you say, sighing. "I'm not sure what she wanted. Why would she bring up my mother? Or Frisk's dad?"

"Sans is my dad," Frisk blurts out, turning so they can fix you with an angry frown. "Why didn't you tell that lady the truth?"

Your lips part, hesitating and taken aback. Sans knows why you didn't mention him to the reporter, that it's a delicate subject and right now none of you can afford to complicate things. Not with a woman who was already quick to accuse you of setting yourself apart from the rest of humanity. But he admits that it stung a little, to have everything the two of you (three of you) have built swept under the rug and kept secret. Maybe this is why you never said anything to him about wanting a ring. No questions from other humans that would recognize its significance, because then you'd have to explain that your fiancé is a monster.

"Sweetie, of course he's your dad... but she wasn't gonna understand that," you tell them gently, casting worried glances around the three of you to see if anyone might be listening. Or is he just being paranoid?

"It's not that hard to understand," Frisk says in a petulant tone that makes Sans's mouth twitch.

"It's more complicated than that—"

"Why is everything so complicated all of a sudden?" they snap at you, and now their attitude isn't quite so amusing anymore.

"hey kiddo, don't talk to your mom like that," Sans says, earning himself a look of betrayal. He frowns back at them. "i don't like it either, but we gotta stick together, ok? your mom is doing her best and we need to support her."

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, a silent 'thank you'. He knows you don't like any of this, just as much as he does, and you need to be united. He's frustrated, but it's at this situation, not you. He has to remember that.

Frisk looks from you to Sans, their expression turning guilty. Looking away, they cover their mouth with their hand. "Sorry," they mumble.

You're not letting that pitiful apology slide, however. He just watches as you purse your lips, realizing just how much more confident you've gotten at being a mom than when you first met. Feeling a little proud, he lets go of your waist to let you do your thing, hooking his thumbs on his belt loops.

"What was that?" you ask Frisk, raising an eyebrow and resting your hands on your hips.

Frisk starts to let out a frustrated sigh but cuts themselves off, looking down at the ground and dropping their hand before looking up again. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you," they say.

"You're allowed to be mad at me, but I don't appreciate it when you interrupt me when I'm trying to explain," you say, tucking some of Frisk's hair behind their ear. "And right now isn't the time to talk about this, okay?"

Frisk nods, taking hold of your wrist. "Okay."

"How about we go find Asriel and his parents, see what they're up to?"

That seems to brighten Frisk's mood, a good tactic on your part. He also thinks that maybe, with Toriel and Asgore there with you that the reporters might at least be a little more respectful with their questions. Hopefully. Or at least they'll be better at helping you than he was.

The next few hours pass with few ripples in the calm yet optimistic air permeating the conference. There's a short break for a catered lunch and then a few more hours of talking with ordinary visitors as well as more reporters. Questions remain polite for the most part. Any time they start to stray off-topic Toriel or Asgore politely yet firmly guide them back to something more appropriate. You, Sans, and Frisk stick close to the Dreemurrs and Papyrus finds his way back to the rest of you after having wandered off to go 'make a good impression'. As far as you can tell he didn't cause any trouble, in fact he seems even more energetic than usual. Sans seems glad at that, at least.

By four in the afternoon Frisk and Asriel are wilting, stifling yawns and casting wistful glances outside. There's still a few hours left in the conference, but you're more than happy for an excuse to leave early. You tell Toriel that you and Sans are going to take the kids home. Frisk asks if Asriel can stay the night at your house and after pleading looks from both of them you and Toriel agree. You don't even have to stop over at their house to pick anything up; you think that half of Asriel's clothes must already be at your house anyway. The two of them keep swapping clothes so much you hardly know what belongs to who anymore.

Toriel and Asgore say they'll bring Papyrus home later, since he wants to stay.

The moment you all get back to the house the kids make a break for the living room. They flop down on a plush rug in front of the TV, Frisk getting it set up so that they can play some video games. You and Sans follow at a much more leisurely pace, taking the time to kick off your shoes by the front door and share a brief kiss, relieved to be back home in one piece. The day could have gone better, but it also could have gone a heck of a lot worse, too.

Sans follows you to the living room, trailing behind so he can give your butt an affectionate squeeze while your back is turned. Casting him a playful glare, you settle into your spot on the couch and wait as he grabs the book he's been reading from the end table and sits down next to you. Sans has been slowly working through your collection. Now that you have a real space to call your own, they're all finally on display instead of tucked away in cardboard boxes in the back of a closet. You never really realized just how many you had. Almost all of them came secondhand from used book stores, so they're not the prettiest, but they're yours. When you asked him why he wanted to bother reading them instead of, well, literally anything else, he just smiled at you and said 'because they're yours'. And how could you argue with that?

With the pretext of reaching for you own book, you settle across San's lap and stay there. You squash a throw pillow behind your back to get more comfortable and Sans rests one hand on your stomach, which you promptly cover with your own. Tangling your fingers together, you cast the kids a quick look before you start to read.

Much better. This is how you'd rather spend a Saturday afternoon, not surrounded by people who may or may not wish ill of you.

It's about half an hour later when you realize that you're not hearing any of the sound effects of Frisk's game. It's just the same background music on loop. Glancing up, Frisk is laying on their stomach with Asriel's head pillowed on the small of their back, arms wrapped around their middle. They're both fast asleep. Affection tugs at your heart and you glance over at Sans, hoping to get his attention so he can look for himself, but he's asleep too. Apparently it's naptime and you never got the memo. His head is tipped back against the cushions and he's breathing softly, fingers holding his place in his book. Trying not to wake him, you ease it out of his hand and mark the page, setting it aside.

Doing your best to stay as still as possible, you fish your phone out of your pocket and flip it to silent, then take a picture of Frisk and Asriel. You're sure Sans will want to add it to his growing collection. You also send it to Toriel with a short message. 'Looks like they were pretty tired. :)'

A few minutes later you get a reply. 'Thank you for taking him home. ]:)'

'Are things going okay still?'

'Yes. Please do not worry, I will let you know if there are any changes.'

'OK.'

Sans shifts under you and you look up from your phone to see him looking at you, smiling. "hey," he says quietly, blinking a bit as his pupils brighten. He must have just woken up.

"Hey," you whisper, glancing pointedly at the kids and back at him.

His eyes flick over to them and you see something tender soften his expression. "guess it's naptime," he says.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Thought you'd be out longer," you say, shifting to tuck in closer against him.

He hooks his hand around your hip, giving you a little squeeze. With a shrug, he makes a noncommittal noise. "i'm doing ok. how about you, you tired?"

You shrug back. "More hungry than tired. Those people earlier were a lot more interested in asking me questions than letting me eat lunch."

"once the kiddos wake up we should go to grillbys. asriel was not-so-subtly hinting that's what he wanted for dinner in the car," he says, leaning forward to nudge your forehead with his own.

Nudging him back, you give him a wry smile. "Sounds like what you want for dinner."

"well sure, but you know that tori never takes him out to eat. she's constantly got something baking at that house, like she can make up for all those missed, home-cooked meals."

"Can you really blame her though?"

Sans glances over at Asriel where he's sleeping, the short fluffy tail poking out of the back of his pants giving a little twitch. "not really. i'm not saying it's bad, just that sometimes it's nice to have some greasy burgers and fries."

You study his face, the way the corners of his mouth go a little tense even as his eyes hold nothing but affection for the two kids curled up together. "He's still not Flowey, you know," you breathe, the quietest whisper you can manage. "You don't have to keep looking at him like that."

"i know. i'm... trying," he says, giving you a guilty look. "asriel is a sweet kid."

Stroking the side of his face, you give him a comforting smile. "Do you trust Frisk?"

His eyebrows raise. "of course i do."

"You didn't used to. Just give Asriel time."

He looks away, sighing. He doesn't say anything.

You bite your lip. "Maybe 'time' wasn't the best word I could have used."

Sans looks back over at you, his mouth twitching into a smile as a soft chuckle rumbles against you. "i know what you meant, though."

You run your thumb along his chin. "Hey."

"hey," he answers, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

"I just want to remind you that I love you."

"ok. then lemme remind you that i love you too."

"Sounds good. Glad we're on the same page."

   
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