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.


148. Taking a Chance

Deacon looks embarrassed, turning his head away and ducking to hide behind you while he wipes at his eyes. Not that Sans can blame him; Deacon isn't exactly high on his list of people he'd be willing to break down in front of, and he's sure the human feels the same about him. And shit, the guy is a textbook example of broken. It says something about how their... okay, yes, friendship has come that he feels so bad for him. 

Because if anyone knows what it's like to be terrified of falling in love with someone, to put his happiness in someone else's hands, it's Sans.

He heard everything, sitting on the stairs just out of sight. He'd woken shortly after you'd gone, when he reached for you in his sleep and you weren't there. Then he found your note and wanted to check on you.

You give him a quick, conflicted glance over your shoulder before leaning close to Deacon, smoothing back his hair as he shakes his head and mumbles something to you. Maybe he should have let you handle this, kept out of it, but you're just not pushing your friend hard enough. And you don't understand just how bad he really fucked up.

"let me talk to him for a minute," Sans says, walking further into the room. He fidgets with the front of his t-shirt.

"No," Deacon blurts out thickly, sniffling behind you.

You turn to look at Sans again, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. "Sans, are you sure?"

"yeah. do you wanna make some breakfast?" he asks, giving you a weak smile as he pushes some hair out of your face.

Hesitating, you turn to meet Deacon's eyes as he gives you a desperate look. "He wants to help," you tell him, and he looks down at the couch. As you let him go he pulls back and crosses one arm over his chest, continuing to scrub at his face. Sans helps you to your feet and you hold his gaze, giving him a serious look. "Be kind to him."

"don't worry about us," he tells you, and after a silent pause where you squeeze his hand tight you head to the kitchen.

Deacon crosses his legs under him, looking everywhere but at Sans as he takes the spot you just vacated. The human doesn't say anything, and he can practically see him trying to pull his walls back up. To lock himself down again. He can't let him do that.

"did hope ever tell you how fucked up i was when we first met?" he says, and that seems to surprise him. It's enough to stop Deacon from withdrawing back into that shell for now.

"No. I... I can't really imagine you not being insufferably confident all the time," he says, and that makes Sans huff out a laugh.

"yeah, neither could she. you're not the only one who hides behind humor. well, if you can call what you do humor," he says and Deacon rolls his eyes. His grip on himself relaxes a little. "it's fucking scary, realizing how much power someone has over you when you fall in love. isn't it?"

He doesn't answer, but he finally meets his gaze.

"would you honestly be here, like this, if you weren't helplessly in love with bo? would you have let your guard down enough to come to hope if you didn't love her too?" Deacon looks away again, blinking hard as his eyes start to water. Sans can see the muscles in his jaw tense. "the first thing you need to realize is that, yeah, it makes you vulnerable. i get the feeling you know that well enough. but it's worth it. i..."

Sans trails off, catching himself for a second as he debates, quickly, just how much he's willing to say. It's enough of a hesitation to draw Deacon's attention back to his face.

"i lost a lot of things, before i found hope," he says carefully. "and i was afraid of losing her too. i still am. but if she hadn't convinced me to let me give happiness with her a chance, i would have regretted it. more than anything. you can't let the fear of an uncertain future prevent you from seizing what's right in front of you. be honest with her."

"But what if she doesn't want me, after she realizes the truth?" Deacon murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"and what if she still does?" Sans says, harsh now. "you're gonna let her go on a chance you might get hurt? what about what you did to her? when she brought up sharing your souls, what did she say?"

He has the common sense to look ashamed. Chastised. "She said she wanted to share her Soul with me."

"and you told her no."

Deacon nods.

"she offered you everything. her love, her soul... buddy, in case you didn't realize; a monster's soul is our whole being. it's our magic, our bodies, everything we're made of." He fixes the human with a hard look, holding his gaze with an intensity that makes him flinch. "she offered all of that to you and you told her no."

Swallowing, Deacon opens his mouth to say something, but then shuts it again.

"you did to her exactly what you were afraid of her doing to you."

"I know," he says, wincing and looking away.

"well i'm just making sure you remember," Sans snaps. "do you love bo?"

Deacon closes his eyes, covering his face with his hand.

"deacon. answer the goddamn question."

He draws in a shaky breath, but doesn't speak.


"Yes! Fuck you, Sans," he blurts out, tearing his hand away from his eyes and fixing him with a glare. "I love her."

"then what the fuck are you still doing here?" Sans says, arching a brow. "get your ass over there."

He stares at him, his face going slack for a second before he rushes to his feet. Feeling satisfied with himself, Sans follows at a distance as Deacon walks past the couch, through the foyer, and into the kitchen. You're there, babysitting a pan of bacon with a distracted look on your face until you catch sight of the two of them coming to meet you.

"Deacon, what—?" you say, before your friend silences you with a hug. You give Sans a confused but relieved look over his shoulder, cupping the back of his head.

"Thank you. Hope, I..." Deacon trails off, his voice catching. "I'm going to go talk to Bo. To tell her... that I love her. And I wanted you to know that I..."

Taking gentle hold of the sides of his head, you ease him away and give him an affectionate smile. "I know. You don't—"

"I do." He insists, still holding you. Sans stays back, lets the two of you have this much-needed moment. He suspects this was a long time coming, for Deacon at least. "You're like a part of a family I never got to have. You've done more for me than anyone. And I need you to know that I love you too."

You're smiling so wide, your eyes brimming with tears as you pull him back into another fierce hug. "Go. Go make things right with Bo."

"Okay," he breathes, drawing in a shaky breath against your shoulder. "Okay, I can do this."

"You can do this," you agree,  letting him go and patting his cheek.

Deacon gives you a shaky smile before turning to head towards the door, then falters as he looks at Sans. All at once he looks a bit embarrassed.

"don't mind me," Sans says, giving him a lopsided smile. "go get her."

"Sans..." he starts, trailing off and grimacing.

"really. the sooner you go—"

"Thank you."

Sans gives a soft laugh, pleasantly surprised. "yeah, don't mention it. next time you need a kick in the pants you know where to find me."

Deacon rolls his eyes, and with one final look between the two of you, he heads for the door. You both watch him go, and when it shuts behind him, he turns to look at you. You're smiling at him, a fond look in your eyes.

"Whatever you did," you say, going to him and draping your arms over his shoulders. You kiss his forehead. "You did good."

"if he and bo broke up for good, you woulda been upset. i couldn't let that happen," he says, making a contented sound as he holds you close.

"I'm sure that's the only reason," you say, chuckling. "Not because you're a good person and you like Deacon."

"keeping him happy keeps you happy."

"Mhm. Well, whatever makes you feel better about yourself."

Deacon's adrenaline, his single-minded determination to make things right, gets him to Bo's doorstep. Then the fear threatens to overwhelm him, to drown him and send him running again. Talking to you had been hard. Talking to Sans had been hard. But this? This is terrifying. He just hopes that Sans is right and it's worth it.

Swallowing past a lump in his throat, he ignores the exhaustion, the way that even as he stands there looking at her door his eyes are already blurry with tears. Because he's been shattered to pieces and cobbled back together with a fragile hope that he can make this all right somehow. That he can salvage his relationship with Bo with enough desperation and honesty.

Because what else does he have to offer than that?

Knock on her door you asshole. Knock on her door and do whatever it takes to get her back.

He raises his hand. Balls it into a fist. Stares at her door.

He feels nauseous. Jittery from adrenaline and lack of sleep. It doesn't matter. None of this shit matters except for getting her back.

He knocks.

A few long, torturous moments pass in silence as he waits, wondering if she's even awake. She sleeps in on Sundays. It's not even noon yet, maybe he should have waited, come back later— He jumps as he hears the turn of the lock, the scrape of metal as she twists the knob.

She's dressed in shorts and a tank top that he recognizes as pajamas. Her eyes are rimmed in red from crying —recent crying, she's rubbing at her face and her fur on her cheeks is damp. Clutching the door, Bo's face cycles through recognition, then hope, and then apprehension as studies the state of him. He must look terrible. But she... She still looks beautiful, even as guilt twists at his heart, because he did this to her. In trying to protect himself he hurt her.

"I want to talk," he says quickly, before she can say anything. "Please."

Relief floods her expression and she nods, once, before her snout scrunches up and her eyes swim with more tears. Bo backs away from the door to let him in. After she closes it she reaches for him, a soft sob escaping her throat as he hugs her close and she kisses him desperately.

"I didn't think you'd come back," she says, her voice breaking.

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to come back," he chokes out, trembling as he buries his face against her bare neck. "I'm so sorry. Bo, how can you forgive me for what I did?"

"Just tell me why," she breathes, tensing in his arms. "Tell me why and I will."

"I'm not okay. I'm nowhere near as confident as you think I am," he says, and now that the walls are down, now that he's started he can't stop. He needs to get it out. "I... I'm charming and funny because it's the only way I could get people to l-like me. I never told you when I was annoyed or bored because I thought that if you were unhappy with m-me you'd get tired of me. Everyone always got tired of me!"

He's crying again. He's cried more today than he ever remembers crying before. Because it never did him any good to give in to feeling sad, because who was there to ever care about him?

"I love you," Bo murmurs, and she tries to stop him as he goes to pull back, staring at him through her tears. Searching his face.

"You're the first person who's ever said that to me," he admits, and the shock on her face is plain enough to see. "Bo, this is why... I panicked. You were giving me too much and I feel like I don't have anything to give you in return. There were so many times where I almost r-ran because that's what I always did. I ran to keep myself safe. Because every time I tried to reach out to someone they wouldn't want me. So I stopped trying. But this time I hurt you instead and I'm... I'm so sorry."

"I want you," she says and he breaks just a little more, bowing his head as he forces himself to listen. To believe her.

"After I hurt you?" he asks, drawing in a shaky breath. "After I rejected you?"

"If you want me. If you want to be with me as badly as I want to be with you—"

"I love you," he says, kissing her. Cradling her head in his hands, he's nearly giddy with relief, shaking. "Bo, I just... I need more time. To share my Soul with you, I... I trust you, I swear, I just..."

She silences him with another kiss, then presses her forehead to his jaw and nods. "I was just so desperate to show you how I feel about you. But I'll be here when you're ready. I promise. I'm not going to get tired of you. I can wait for you. I can do this for you."

"I love you," he says again, turning his head to kiss her temple. "This is fucking terrifying but I love you."

She gives a soft laugh and he pulls away enough so that he can kiss her properly again. God, to think that a few hours ago he wasn't sure if he'd ever kiss her again. He could be gentler, less needy, but he needs her so much right now. He's not afraid to show her just how scared and desperate he is.

Bo pulls away too soon, leaving him chasing her lips as she catches him with her hand, blinking back lingering tears and searching his face. She's a little breathless and flushed, but there's something serious in her eyes.

"Is there anything else you need to tell me? I don't want you to have to hide anything. I want you to at least have one person in your life that you can turn to," she says, cupping his cheek, stroking his skin with her thumb. She's smearing tears across his face but he doesn't care. He's too exhausted to care. "Whatever it might be, you can tell me."

He should tell her. If she can't accept this, then at least he'll know that he was honest, truly honest with her. And if it ruins everything, like Grant said it would, then so be it. Because this, with her. With his life. This is more important. It's worth the risk.

"Yeah," he says, clearing his throat as his heart hammers in his ears. "There's something else. Something important you need to know about me."

Later, after she listens, and doesn't throw him out, or yell at him, or hate him... (There was a moment where he thought she'd do all three.) When she's still there, loving him, all of him now that she knows the truth, Deacon falls asleep with his head in her lap and she runs her fingers through his hair. And he feels content.

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