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.


11. Just Trying to Have a Good Time

The forest outside of Snowdin is beautiful in the dark. You hesitate to call it 'night', even though according to your phone night and day are at the same times as the surface. There aren't any sunrises or sunsets, just a gradual brightness and darkness. You wonder, briefly, if you'll ever see the sun again.

Whenever you hear monsters speak in wistful tones about the surface, they seem to dwell on the sun. As well they should, there isn't really anything quite like it. But, you think you miss the moon the most. The stars. The chill, wet feeling of the night air; the kind that leaves dew on everything by morning. Fogbanks that hover like lost clouds over fields on the side of the road until the sun burns them away.

Here in the Underground, even the temperature isn't any different at night. The air feels the same against your face. It reminds you that you really are deep within the earth, and despite the snow-covered trees, you begin to feel the press of tons of rock high above you. You take in a deep, pine-scented breath and force the sensation away.

Sans brings you to a clearing near the edge of one of the forest's cliffs. From here, you can see out over the dark expanse of trees, flecked with snow. In the dark, everything is painted in black and white until it's all swallowed in black at the furthest part of your vision.

You stand close to Sans's side, your hand once again in his jacket pocket. He squeezes your fingers. "what do you think of the view?"

Glancing at him, your lips curl into a mischievous smile. "Very handsome. The forest is nice too."

Somehow he seems pleased and frustrated at the same time. "hey, i was trying to set that one up for myself."

"You left it wiiiiide open for me to take, Sans," you tease, grinning. "You're gonna have to try harder."

"well, normally i hate working hard at anything," he says, the lights of his eyes fixed on you, "but for you i'll make an exception."

"I feel so special," you say, rolling your eyes.

"you should. you are."

("You think you're special? You're just another teenage slut. Now no one is going to want you.") You look away, back out over the forest below. "I'm not. Not really."

"hey, yes you are. you've got people who care about you. do i need to get papyrus out here to change your mind?"Sans squeezes your hand, and you can feel him still watching you.

You can't help but smile at the mental image of Papyrus stomping through the snow, outraged at the very idea of you feeling down on yourself. It helps. Turning back to Sans, he looks a little relieved. "Sorry," you say. "Old habits. It's going to take a while to break."

Twenty years of being told you're worthless tends to make you believe it's true.

"so," he says, drawing out the single syllable as a sign of changing the subject. You're grateful for that. "i brought you out here to admire the view. i like to come out here sometimes to clear my head."

"Do you need to clear your head when your skull is empty?"

"ouch. brutal," he says, chuckling. "do you always tease your dates or am i just lucky?"

"Ah, well..." You reach up with your free hand and drag your fingers through your hair, feeling awkward. "I don't know. I've never actually been on a real date before."

"really? you're not still joking around?" he asks, surprised. You wonder if you should be flattered.

"Really. I never had much of a chance." You shrug and kick at the snow under your feet, looking down.

"i just thought, with frisk..." Sans trails off, but his implications are clear enough.

"I was fourteen, you think Frisk's father took me out on a hot date?" You can't help but laugh a little. "It was a lot less romance, and a lot more rushed, awkward fumbling whenever we could get away from our parents..."

"well, i guess i'll have to make sure to take you on that hot date then. how am i doing on the whole 'romance' side of things so far?"

You look at Sans again and there's something tender in his expression. Smiling, you lean over to rest your head against his shoulder. "No complaints. Though I'd say this is more of a 'cold date' if you ask me."

He laughs, his shoulder jerking under you. Still holding your hand, he reaches out and pulls you against his chest, hugging you with his free arm. He's smiling up at you, and you feel a fluttering below your heart. "i feel like this is payback for you nearly choking back at grillby's."

"I like joking with you, Sans. I like making you laugh. I didn't really have a lot of people to laugh with, before," you say, holding on to the back of his jacket and burying your face in the fluffy part of his hood. His jaw is smooth and warm against your exposed cheek, and his jacket has a faint musty smell of bones and ketchup. It's a little strange, but familiar and comforting.

"you can always joke with me, babe. and i'll always try to make you laugh. maybe it's a matter of pride but i assure you i ain't lion."

You groan at the joke, leaning bodily against him as you let the air out of your lungs. Sans laughs and holds you upright, brushing a toothy kiss against your jaw and down your neck. You shudder. His chuckles fade and he hums next to your ear as you hold onto his jacket a little tighter.

"hmm, what was that?" he asks, voice dropping noticeably lower. He grazes the curve of your neck with his teeth again, forcing you to gasp and press closer against him.

"Sans," you say, and your voice comes out as a whine. "If you keep doing that, I really will try to jump your bones, cold be damned."

"as great as that sounds, i think i'd rather wait to have my bones rattled somewhere you'll be more comfortable." Sans loosens his grip on you with some reluctance, resting his hand on your hip as you pull away enough to look at him.

"Such a gentleman," you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone.

He brushes his mouth against your cheek in return before you're out of reach. "that's me, a skeleton of class."

You pull away completely, feeling the need for some space to clear your head. Sans lets you go without any complaint, watching you as you turn your back to him to look out over the forest again. Despite your moments of boldness, you feel nervous. It's been a long time since anyone showed any kind of interest in you (aside from strange men hitting on you at work). To complicate matters further, you aren't even sure how to go about being intimate with a skeleton. Oh, the revelation about his tongue will certainly help with you, but what are you supposed to do to reciprocate? He seemed to enjoy you touching the vertebrae in his neck, so maybe it isn't too different for some things.

 Forgetting for a moment where you are, you look up and expect to see the sky. Instead there's just darkness, which elicits a sigh of disappointment. You hear Sans take a few crunching steps through the snow to stand at your side, following your line of sight.

"I guess I could pretend it's cloudy, and that the stars are just hidden," you say, mostly to yourself.

"there's this place in waterfall called the wishing room, and the ceiling is covered in crystals. we pretend that they're stars, and well, make wishes on them," Sans says. "it's not the real thing, but it's something, i guess."

You think that maybe he's trying to comfort you, but it just makes you sadder. There's so many things on the surface you took for granted, and now that they're gone you can't help but miss them. "I'm sure I'll get used to it. It's just different, that's all."

Sans shifts on his feet. "are you sure you want to stay down here?" He sounds casual, but when you look over at him the lights in his eyes are so small you can barely make them out. He's looking up at the ceiling, and he seems worried.

"Sans, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that falling down that hole is probably one of the best things that's ever happened to me. This has been... this past week has been one of the happiest I've ever had," you say, reaching out to touch his arm.

Sans looks down at your hand, then takes it in his own as he turns to face you. "i have to admit you saying that makes me happy, but i can't help but feel like it says more about your time on the surface than your time down here."

"Maybe, but I already told you; I'm happy here. And if that means staying in the Underground, then so be it." You squeeze his fingers, giving him a reassuring smile.

Sans sighs, raising a brow as his grin turns wry. "well, i'm not gonna be the one to convince you otherwise."

"Good. Because I like being here with you," you murmur, cheeks warming at the admission.

Expression softening, he tugs on your hand to pull you close. He reaches up to cup your face and draws you gently down to him for a kiss. "i want you to stay. i want you both to stay. maybe that's selfish, but things have been so good, and i just want it to stay like this, for once." Something in the desperation in his voice at the end makes your heart ache. You wonder what he means, and think that you're missing something important.

Your lips brush against his mouth and he makes a pleased hum, smooth fingers pressing encouragingly against the side of your neck. Pushing past his open jacket, you run your hand along the side of his ribs. Through his shirt you can feel the bone underneath, and even though you're expecting it it's still a little startling. In his jacket he seems to have so much more substance, but under your touch he seems almost fragile as he shivers. You can't help but smile at his reaction, glad that he's enjoying your touch as much as you enjoy his.

You expect the warm touch of his tongue but it doesn't come, instead Sans pulls away, looking up at you with something akin to hunger that makes a thrill run through you. "come home with me," he says, voice low.

Swallowing, you draw in a shaky breath and do your best to smirk. "I have to, that's where I've been sleeping. And your brother has my child," you say, but the way your voice sounds strained to your ears betrays any playful tone you were trying to use.

"you know what i mean." The roughness to the words stokes the heat that's been building low in your belly.

"Yes. Okay, yes," you say, words spilling out of you in a rush. You're still unsure how exactly this is going to work, but you just know you want it to happen. You need this. "Take me home."

You're back at the house faster than you realize is possible. Along the way you seem to somehow skip part of the town, but at the moment you just can't bring yourself to care. Sans opens the door as quietly as he can, and both of you share a look when you see that Frisk and Papyrus are once again asleep on the couch, lit only by the light of the television. Good.

Sans has a tight grip on your hand as he leads you up the stairs, back towards the only room you have yet to see. You can't help but feel a little curious, despite yourself. What is his room like? You don't even see the key as he unlocks the door, and it's pitch black when you enter. Closing the door, he tells you to wait there as you hear him maneuver through the room and then flick on a dim light.

His room is fairly plain, but messy. There's a bit of trash in one corner and a pile of socks in the other, with an old treadmill in the center. The light that Sans just turned on is actually a flashlight stuck into a lamp. His bed has been made with wrinkly sheets. The skeleton gives you a little shrug after you survey the room and look at him.

"sorry, wasn't really expecting much company," he says.

"It's fine, right now I really don't care." You unzip your jacket as you cross the room, draping it over the treadmill.

Sans watches you as you hesitate and then decide to sit on the side of his bed. You fidget, thumbing the edge of the mattress and looking down at your knees. "Are you just going to admire the view, or are you gonna come over here before I start to lose my nerve," you mumble, a nervous laugh escaping you.

You don't even hear him move and suddenly he's standing in front of you, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and looking a little unsure of himself. "i wouldn't know what that's like, since i don't have any nerves," he says, but the joke sounds a little forced.

You make a small huff of laughter, smiling at the attempt anyway. "Getting cold feet? Do I need to warm you up?" You hope you sound more confident than you feel.

He chuckles a little and seems to relax, easing his hands out of his pockets. "have i told you that i love that little glint in your eyes when you make a joke and wait to see if i'm going to laugh?"

There's that familiar flutter in your chest again, easing away the uncertainty as you smile up at him. "No, but I'm glad to hear it," you say softly, reaching out a tentative hand to rest against his sternum.

Sans shrugs out of his jacket then covers your hand with his own, squeezing your fingers. "and the way you blush, and how your eyes crinkle when you smile."

You reach up and tug him downwards, kissing his jaw. You feel it move as he opens his mouth to speak again, but the words never make it to the air as you run the tip of your tongue along the smooth surface of the bone. He groans softly, leaning towards you. When you pull away, the lights in his eyes are bright and his cheekbones are stained blue. He reaches out towards you but you pull away, tucking your knees up under you as you scoot back on his bed. You sit back on your heels, waiting for him to follow.

Sans doesn't hesitate. You've barely settled into position when he's on his knees on the mattress, one hand burying itself in your hair to pull you back to him as the other plunges under the hem of your shirt. He runs his fingers up your side until he reaches the band of your bra, follows it around to your back and then drags his hand down the curve of your spine. Your shiver has nothing to do with the cold as he tugs your head gently to the side and runs his teeth against your neck. Pausing for a moment, he seems to consider before you feel the warmth of his tongue against your pulse.

Biting back a moan, you grip the back of his shirt with both hands as he slowly pushes up your top, tips of his phalanges trailing over the soft flesh of your stomach. He shies away from your bra again, instead gripping the swell of your hip and stroking your skin with his thumb.

"you're so soft," he murmurs against your throat. "i love touching you."

"Then touch me," you say, arching under his hand, willing it higher.

"where? show me."

Covering his hand with your own, you guide it up over the curve one one breast, breath hitching as his fingers tease you through the fabric of your bra. You whine as he pulls away from your neck, but as you open your eyes to look at him you can't help but feel a pleasant ache in your chest. He's looking at you like something precious, fascinated by the bare expanse of your stomach. You can't even bring yourself to feel self-conscious about your stretch marks, not with the way he's looking at you. His hand shifts over your breast and you bite your lip, arching again into his touch.

Slowly untangling his other hand from your hair, he reaches down to push your shirt higher. You're about to suggest just taking the damn thing off when—


You both freeze, and your stomach gives a lurch. The blue in Sans's left eye flickers when your eyes meet.

"maybe if we ignore him, he'll just go away," Sans mutters.

You heave a sigh, gritting your teeth. "But if Papyrus is awake, then—"


The fear in Frisk's voice makes your blood run cold, any remaining desire vanishing in an instant. Sans's hands are off of you and you're tugging down your shirt, hurrying to the door with the skeleton at your heels.

"Frisk, sweetie what's wrong?" you call out the second you reach the second-story railing, following it to the stairs.

"bro, is everything okay?" Sans asks, and you feel a surge of affection at the concern in his voice.

Papyrus is standing at the foot of the stairs, glancing between the two of you and where Frisk is sitting on the couch, tears shining in their eyes. He looks confused and uncertain, wringing his hands and failing to find his voice. The tall skeleton moves aside as you brush past him.

Frisk makes a choked sound as you climb onto the couch next to them, pulling them into your arms and stroking their hair. "Shh, baby I'm here, what's wrong?" you murmur, rocking the two of you back and forth.

"what happened?" Sans asks, and it sounds like he's talking to Papyrus.

"I— I'm not sure," Papyrus says, his voice quiet. "They woke up and seemed confused, then started asking for her."

Frisk is trembling in your arms.

"Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?" you ask, fighting to keep fear out of your own voice.

"Nightmare," they mumble into your chest. "I thought... I couldn't find you, you weren't here. And then I woke up and you still weren't here. I thought I was alone."

"You're not alone. I'm here."

"Where were you?"

A surge of guilt rises in your chest, even though you know you didn't do anything wrong. "Sans and I didn't want to wake you. We were in his room."

"Stay with me?" Frisk begs, fingers digging into your clothes.

You rub soothing circles into their back, nodding against their cheek. "Of course, Frisk. Of course I'll stay with you."

As you speak you look up and meet Sans's gaze. You think he'll be upset, but he just looks concerned. He comes up next to you and pats the top of Frisk's head, placing his other hand on your back. It's a small gesture, but you can feel him supporting you. It's a new feeling, one that fills you with warmth.

"sorry we scared you, kiddo. i know what it's like to wake up and feel confused like that."

Frisk eases away from your chest, tilting their head to look up at Sans. They sniffle loudly and rub their nose. "That happens to you? You wake up and feel like you're in the wrong place?"

"sure it does," he says, and you think you hear a little bit of something sad in his voice. His smile seems forced and stiff. "but you'll be okay, kiddo. you're in a good place this time."

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