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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137. The Rite of Harmony

This feels a bit like deja vu. Only instead of Alphys's bedroom you're in Toriel's, and instead of getting ready for a date you're getting ready for your wedding.

Hair, nails, and makeup, the routine is the same but the butterflies in your stomach are beating twice as hard, almost to the point of nausea. You keep running over the vows in your head, hoping you don't forget any of them, knowing that even if you do you'll just be repeating after Toriel anyway so you'll be fine.

Everything will be fine.

"Hope?"

You're rubbing the sash of your bathrobe between your fingers, staring into the middle distance as Undyne tames your hair. She's braiding the sides like a band around your head, meeting at the back where the rest of your hair falls in thick, dark waves. Your bangs frame your face. There's sprigs of silk forget-me-nots sitting on the vanity in front of you, your attention drawn to them as Undyne reaches around you to grab them. She starts threading the plastic stems through the braids circling your head.

All this anticipation is killing you. All the attention and fussing and waiting... you want this to be over. You want to marry Sans, complete your harmony with him, and make what you've known for months now finally official. Months; now that you think about it that doesn't seem very long. You haven't even been together a year, though it feels like so much longer. Maybe that's because of everything you've been through. Between the Underground and the surface, you know that if there's anyone that you want by your side for whatever the future holds for you and Frisk, it's Sans. You didn't need more time to figure that out.

"Hope? Are you o-okay?" Alphys asks, and you think she's already said your name once before and you just didn't hear her.

Blinking, you look in the vanity mirror to catch sight of Alphys standing next to you, giving you a tremulous smile. She's already in her dress; cute and pink with a pleated skirt and a sweetheart neckline, she's wearing a soft white cardigan over it.

You smile back, trying to ignore the twist of anxiousness in your stomach. "Yeah, sorry I was just zoning out," you say, smoothing the soft terrycloth fabric of the bathrobe over your legs.

"Nervous? I wouldn't blame you if you were," Undyne says, speaking around the silk flowers she has pinned between her teeth as she continues to futz with your hair. In contrast to Alphys she's dressed in a rich, dusky copper dress in a mermaid style. You think Mettaton must have outfitted all the guests too at this rate. "No going back after this."

"Undyne," Alphys says, a little crease forming between her eyes. She adjusts her glasses. "Y-you don't have to say it like that. And Hope it's o-okay to be nervous."

Nervous? Oh, of course you're nervous. You're nervous about the ceremony. Of screwing up the vows or tripping over your dress or any other number of stupid mistakes. You're so nervous you barely had anything to eat for lunch because you'd completely lost your appetite. But marrying Sans? No, you're not nervous about that.

You've never been more sure of anything in your entire life.

Shit, he really should have figured out how to tie a tie since the last time he'd been stuffed into a suit. Standing there in front of a full-length mirror in the corner of Toriel's guest room, Sans has a moment where he can't help but wonder what the hell is wrong with him. He's in his black slacks and white shirt, burgundy vest unbuttoned, black tie hanging around his neck, and feeling like a mess.

Then Grillby is there, gently turning him around and tying his tie, arching a semblance of a brow over the black frame of his glasses in silent question.

"where did pap go?" Sans says, glancing around the elemental for sign of his brother.

"Speaking with Mettaton. Do you want me to fetch him?" he asks quietly, adjusting the tie around Sans's neck and tightening the knot.

"no, no, it's fine," he mutters, rubbing his forehead with the scrape of bone against bone. "have you seen deacon yet? i'm sorry if it's uncomfortable."

"It's fine. That was a month and a half ago." Smoothing out the fabric, Grillby starts buttoning Sans's vest for him. "And I don't think that's why you're worried."

"who said anything about being worried?" he says, brushing his friend's hands away and straightening the vest himself.

Grillby straightens and fixes him with an unreadable expression, folding his hands in front of his stomach. Sans does his best not to look at him, but he can feel the weight of the elemental's stare.

"it's nothing. just wedding jitters," he insists, lying through his smile. Fetching his tuxedo jacket from the back of a chair, he shrugs into it, holding out his arms. "how do i look?"

Grillby watches him for a moment, huffing sparks before nodding his head. Whatever he might want to say, or might want Sans to say is left to silence. Which is for the best, because he just... doesn't want to talk about it. Ever since you came home Wednesday with a broken leg and a heavy heart, the reality of what the two of you are doing has been weighing on him.

Yes, physically, Toriel was able to heal you. Your leg is fine, with no evidence anything had ever even happened to it. She said that because it was just a minor fracture that her magic could handle it, but if it had been worse it would have needed more time. There's only so much that healing magic can do to aid the natural processes of the human body.

But her magic couldn't do anything to touch the sting of injustice, of cruel intolerance. And Sans can't help but think that something like that, even if the injury was an accident, is just the beginning. That if humans recognized you out on the street as the woman married to the monster, they might sling more than just insults. And if that's the case, isn't he partially to blame?

Was Kim right? Is you marrying him a mistake?

"BROTHER ARE YOU READY YET? YOU CAN'T BE LATE FOR YOUR OWN WEDDING," Papyrus says, startling Sans back to attention.

Grillby and Papyrus are standing there, looking at him in their own dress slacks and shirts, ready and waiting. His brother's expression shifts from affectionate frustration to just plain affection as he fiddles with his tie.

"yeah, bro. i think i'm ready now," Sans says, with more confidence than he feels.

"GOOD, METTATON SAYS THAT HOPE IS ALMOST READY AND YOU SHOULD BE WAITING FOR HER," he says, hurrying forward and steering Sans for the door. "GRILLBY AND I NEED TO TAKE OUR SEATS, EVERYONE ELSE IS HERE."

Grillby follows the two of them out into the hall, giving Sans a reassuring smile before he passes them to head out into the living room. With so few guests, the rite is being held in Toriel's house. Papyrus hangs back, standing in front of his brother and fixing him with a serious look. For a moment he wonders if he can see what's bothering him; Papyrus can be more aware than he often gives him credit for. But instead he leans over to hug him.

"I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU, SANS," he says, as they embrace one another. "YOU AND HOPE LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH. AND EVERYONE IS HERE TO CELEBRATE THE TWO OF YOU, SO PLEASE DON'T WORRY."

Sans lets out a soft chuckle. Of course Papyrus could tell. Of course. "i know, bro. and thanks."

He gives him one final squeeze before letting go, looking down at Sans with tears in his eye sockets. Grinning, he claps his brother on the shoulder with one hand and rests the other on his hip. "I BELIEVE THAT NO MATTER WHAT COMES, THE TWO OF YOU WILL ALWAYS BE STRONG ENOUGH TO FACE IT."

Papyrus leaves him there in the hallway, disappearing around the corner. All Sans can do now is wait.

Not that he has to wait long. After a few minutes the door down the hall opens and Undyne and Alphys slip out and close the door behind them. Undyne gives him a double thumbs-up and a toothy grin and Alphys smiles and walks over to him. Reaching out, she takes one of his hands in both of hers. 

"I'm so h-happy for you guys," she whispers. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she lets go of his hand to throw her arms around him in a sudden hug. "And I'm happy for you. You deserve this a-after everything."

Then, before he can answer, she lets him go and hurries off with Undyne to go join the others. He's alone again.

Does he really deserve this? Does he really deserve you? He hopes so. God he hopes so.

Maybe it's a mercy that the door opens again before he has time to dwell over things any longer, to second-guess himself and this decision. But the second you step out into the hallway all that doubt, all that worry just melts away. Because you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

The dress is ivory lace, with capped sleeves and draping fabric. There's a sash of soft, antique blue around your waist, tied at your hip, that matches the little blue flowers threaded into your hair. You're wearing the sunburst locket, and that makes him happier than it ought to, since you wear it every day now. But it's that shy smile on your face, the way your dark, stunning eyes look at him through thick lashes that fills him with such an overflowing feeling of love and makes him wonder just how stupid he could have been to doubt this wedding even for a moment. That look is timid, holding a silent question he needs to answer, before he does anything else.

Because you need to know.

"you look beautiful," he says, and you can see the tears welling up in his eye sockets. It's enough to make you have to blink back your own, laughing quietly as you take an apprehensive glance at the hallway between you. The hall that leads towards the living room where you can hear voices talking softly amongst themselves.

They're waiting for you, but they can wait a moment longer.

"You clean up pretty good yourself, handsome," you say, grinning as you're reminded once again of that date back in the Underground. Which, you suppose, is only proper since that's when you first got engaged.

At least the wedding isn't on accident like the proposal was.

Sans chuckles, and you think he remembers the same thing you do. "looks like we still go together," he says, gesturing at the blue at your waist and in your hair.

"Of course we do," you say, smiling and taking in a deep breath to keep yourself from letting your tears spill over as so much love makes your throat feel tight. "Always."

"c'mon, babe." He takes a step forward, into the light from the living room where he knows your friends will be able to see him. He holds his arm out for you. "it's the first day of the new year —my first new year in a long time— and i can't think of a better way to start it off than by marrying you."

"Neither can I," you say, closing the distance between the two of you and slipping your arm through his.

Then, together, you walk down the short hall to where your friends and family have gathered. At the far end of the living room are Toriel and Asgore, standing in front of her huge stone fireplace. They're dressed formally, in matching shades of purple, Delta Runes picked out in gold embroidery. Before them are rows of chairs, with all the occupants turned around to watch the two of you as you make your way down the center.

Everyone you care about is here. Deacon gives you a wink and Bo smiles at you, Grillby nods and you think Papyrus is already trying not to cry. Mettaton is at his side, rubbing his shoulder. Undyne gives you a huge, toothy grin and Alphys wipes her eyes, and at the very front Frisk and Asriel are kneeling in their seats, getting a good look at the two of you from over everyone's heads. They look so silly you can't help but laugh, and they glance at each other, smiling.

It's not a long walk, so soon the two of you are standing there, arm in arm, in front of the king and queen of monsters. Toriel smiles kindly at you which you do your best to return, your nervousness returning in full force now that you're standing in front of everyone. Sans must feel you tense up because he gives you a comforting squeeze.

"And so we have two Souls who approach us as equals, wishing to join their songs and form a single harmony, to leave this place not two but one. Is that your wish?" Asgore says, his deep bass voice filling the room.

You and Sans answer together, like you practiced. "It is." "it is."

"And who here might vouch for these Souls? That they have made clear their intentions and have entrusted themselves with each other, and know the truth of the bond they wish to form." The king glances over at Toriel.

Her smile widens. "I, Toriel Dreemurr, will vouch for them. I present them to you that we might aid them in their union."

"Please, join hands and you will make your vows," he says, gesturing for the two of you to face each other.

You take your arm from his, sliding your hand towards his wrist but instead he reaches for his pocket. Confused, you can only watch as he pulls out a thin, white gold band. He gives you a wry smile, reaching for your left hand. "before we do the vows i wanted to give you this. since this is what humans do, and i wanna make sure to do this right."

Pulling off your engagement ring, you let him take your hand. "Technically, the rings are given after the vows," you murmur, and blue paints across his cheekbones.

"shit, i knew that," he grumbles, and Toriel bites back a soft laugh.

You wiggle your finger, the adrenaline from your nerves making you a little giddy. "It's fine."

Gritting his teeth, he slides the band onto your finger, giving you an apologetic look. You put your engagement ring back on, taking a second to look at the two rings together, a proper wedding set, before grabbing his hands and giving him a bright smile. It takes him a second to return it, but he does. He squeezes your fingers, and you're not sure if he's trembling or if it's just you.

"You shall repeat after us," Asgore says, and as he starts to speak you barely hear him or Toriel anymore. You know the vows, you've rehearsed them so many times. But this is the first time you've heard Sans say them.

"i, sans, make these vows to you," he says. The lights in his eyes are bright with joy. 

"And I, Hope, make these vows to you," you answer, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

"that i will share your burdens when you are weak."

"That I will share your sorrow and your joy."

"i will shelter you from the cold."

"I will shade you from the heat."

"i will cherish you from this day until my last."

"I will be the first face you see in the morning, and the last before you sleep."

Sans is crying now, holding onto your hands so tightly, and you know you're crying too. Because there's so much love that you can't contain it all, and it overflows through your tears. He's looking at you with such fierceness, you couldn't doubt for one second how much he loves you even if you tried.

"i will raise you up if you should fall."

"I will be your hope," your voice cracks, even as soft laughter fills the room. Because even though you are quite literally his Hope, you're so much more than that. "I will be your hope when you are hopeless."

"and this, my final vow i make to you. that my soul is yours, and yours is mine."

"My Soul is yours, and yours is mine," you echo, and you want so badly to kiss him now, but no, not yet. It's not time. You have to make due with squeezing his hands, blinking at him through your tears as he smiles at you.

"We will now guide you through your harmony, now that your vows are made," Toriel says softly, and when you finally break your eyes away from Sans you can see that she's crying too. She takes each of your hands closest to her, separating them. Then, she presses your hand to Sans's chest and his to yours, right over your heart. She keeps her hand over his, her other hand resting on your back, holding you as Asgore mimics her with Sans. His huge hand swallows yours on your fiancé's ribcage.

There's no words for this. All of them have been spoken. All you can do is watch as Sans closes his eyes, focusing, as Toriel and Asgore's hands start to glow faintly with white light. For a second you wonder if maybe this process would be easier if you could help, if you had magic of your own. If you could guide your Soul to his instead of having to be led there like a child. But you barely have the time to feel sorry for yourself before you feel... humming. A vibration that echoes in your chest and flutters under your skin. You can feel it and almost hear it at the same time, a low resonating sound that seems so new and so familiar all at once.

Toriel's hands pull away and so do Asgore's, but you can't think about them. You press harder against Sans's chest and your brow furrows, not caring for anyone else in the room because you have to focus on this feeling, this brand new sensation that you realize is him.

"can you feel it?" Sans asks you, moving his hand from your chest to the back of your neck, pulling you close and down so that your forehead is pressed to his. It makes the humming louder, stronger than before.

That low tone, that soothing hum like... distant thunder. Like his voice when he does that deep chuckle he knows you like. It's accompanied by something higher, softer. Like a chime, or a wet finger around the rim of a wineglass. You see now why they call it a song, because each vibration, each tone, changes in pitch or intensity. And those two different sensations, his and yours, they shift in... well. In perfect harmony. Like they were meant to be together.

"babe, talk to me," he murmurs, and carefully you focus on him, on the bright lights searching your face.

"I can hear you," you say, and all at once you're so overwhelmed by it all that you're crying all over again. "I can hear us."

"are you ok? is it too much?" He sounds worried, and that's the last thing you want him to be right now. He doesn't need to worry about you.

"No, it's perfect," you say, and you kiss him.

You kiss your husband and you realize you forgot everyone else is here until you're deafened by the sound of applause.

   
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