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.


33. You're Not Hearing Me

You wake up shivering. It takes you a moment to realize that it's because Frisk has the blankets wrapped around themselves, leaving you bare. Gray light filters in through the window, the dim color of morning in Snowdin. No soft orange sunrises here.

Frisk is laying at an angle, their backside pressed into your ribs. You realize that if you tried to roll over you'd fall off the bed. Sans's arm is under Frisk, and you feel him holding your hand. The three of you fell asleep like this, with Frisk wedged between you and snuggled up to your side. Sometime between now and then, they rolled over to Sans instead.

Jealousy coils in your stomach, twisting your insides. You hate it, you know you shouldn't feel this way but... Lately it feels like everyone has been taking more and more of Frisk away from you. Part of you knows that they're just trying to help, that they care about Frisk too, but the more they help, the less needed you feel.

Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard you try, it's just not good enough.

Laying there sulking isn't going to do you or anyone else any good. Carefully rolling off the bed, you decide to borrow Sans's jacket and slippers to help warm yourself up. With a quick glance at your phone, you realize it's almost time for Frisk to get up for school. You lean over the bed, brushing hair out of their face as you coax them awake.

With a soft groan, Frisk blinks up at you, rolling away from Sans and onto their back.

"C'mon sweetie, time to get up," you whisper. "I'll make you breakfast."

Nodding and rubbing their eyes, Frisk lets you help them out of bed. Sans rolls over onto his chest with a sleepy grumble, burying his face in his pillow. Hesitating, you decide to leave him be. He doesn't have work today, and with him getting up in the middle of the night, you know he can use the extra sleep.

Besides, right now you could use this extra time with Frisk.

But, it seems it's just not meant to be. Papyrus is already awake, busy making breakfast. Even Undyne is up, sitting at the table bleary-eyed and drinking tea, already dressed. The two of them look at you as you walk into the kitchen, and thankfully Papyrus doesn't seem to notice the way you grit your teeth.

"OH, GOOD MORNING! I SUSPECTED FRISK WAS WITH YOU LAST NIGHT, I'M GLAD TO SEE I WASN'T WRONG!" Papyrus says, smiling and waving with the spoon in his hand.

"I hope we didn't worry you, Papyrus," you say, nudging Frisk towards the table as you start to prepare yourself some coffee.


"Oh, is that why you woke me up as soon as you got out of bed, demanding to know if I knew where Frisk was?" Undyne grumbles into her tea, yellow eye narrowing at the skeleton.

Papyrus turns his back to the kitchen, staring down at the pot of oatmeal as nervous sweat beads on the side of his skull. "I-I MAY HAVE BEEN A LITTLE CONCERNED," he admits with a small cough.

Breakfast is a little livelier than normal with the four of you sitting at the table together. Papyrus and Undyne command most of Frisk's attention, and once again you start to feel the pangs of jealousy. You tamp them down, instead focusing on your food. You're forgotten once again as Frisk runs back up the stairs when they're done eating to go change their clothes.

Fine. As Papyrus leaves for the morning (he gives you a big hug before he heads out, which makes you feel a little better) you decide to go ahead and make Frisk's lunch. But when you open the fridge, you see there's already a paper bag put together and waiting.

"You've got to be kidding me," you mutter under your breath. "Of course this is already done. Why do I bother?"

"Having trouble finding something?" Undyne says, draining the last dregs of her tea and slamming the mug down on the table. The sound makes you flinch.

"Oh, uh, no... I just thought I'd..." You let out a short sigh. "Frisk's lunch is already made. I was going to do it."

"Papyrus made it this morning before you got up. Doesn't he usually do that?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

She's right, he normally does. You shouldn't be so surprised. Ever since he started picking up on your way of cooking, he's been trying to help out more and more.

The sound of feet tromping down the stairs signals Frisk's return to the kitchen. They run up to your side and as you stand there with the fridge still open, reaching around you to grab their lunchbag. They give you a quick hug, then turn to Undyne with a grin.

"Ready to go, squirt?" she asks, pushing away from the table.

"Yeah!" Frisk looks over their shoulder and gives you a small wave. "Bye Mom!"

"I love you!" you blurt out, taking a step forward but they're already headed for the door. Your hands ball into fists at your sides as Undyne follows them.

"Love you too," they call back.

Undyne looks back at you as she takes hold of the door after Frisk opens it. "See ya later," she says.

The most you can manage is a friendly nod.

You're soaking in the small tub in the bathroom, wallowing in hot water and your own self-pity. You wish you could shake this nagging feeling, but it just won't leave. Frisk has known that you're their mother for a little over a month now, but lately it hasn't really felt like it. At the same time that they accepted you as their mom, they were also adjusting to living with Sans and Papyrus, and then Undyne shortly after. It feels like you're all getting lumped together into this parental unit. You feel like a fragment, instead of being whole yourself.

But it makes you feel guilty and petty for reacting that way. Which only makes you feel worse.

With a sigh you tip your head back into the water, letting the warmth seep into your scalp. You almost miss the muffled sound of a knock at the door with your ears submerged. You sit up and pull back the opaque curtain so you can see the steam-filled bathroom.

"babe?" You can hear San's voice.

"Come in!" you call out.

Sans peeks inside before the rest of him follows, shutting the door behind him. He seems relieved at the sight of you, giving you a weak smile. The lights in his eyes are dim, making them seem more hollow than normal.

"Hun are you okay?" you ask him, sitting up a little straighter and pushing the curtain open a bit more.

He goes to shove his hands in his pockets but he doesn't have any. Instead he grabs at his ratty black t-shirt, glancing at the fogged mirror and then back at you. "it's nothing. just..." he sighs, running a hand over his face. You can hear the scrape of bone against bone. "i'm used to you being there when i wake up."

"Oh," you say, a little confused. You're also a little happy that your absence was so noticed, but you're not glad for the way he seems so shaken. "I just got up to see Frisk off to school. And I wanted to let you sleep."

You reach out a hand towards him, beckoning him forward. Water drips off your arm and down onto the tile floor. He hesitates for a moment, but Sans comes and sits down on the covered toilet next to the tub. You thread your fingers in his, and he leans down to nuzzle your temple.

"i know. i just wanted to check on you. makes me feel better." You hear —and feel— him give a low chuckle after a pause. "and i can't say i mind the view."

Laughing, you give him a playful shove away from you. "You're getting a little off track—"

"what can i say? you're distrackting."

"Sans. Are you doing okay?" you ask him, trying your hardest to fight the smile off your face. You can't let his puns make you laugh.

"i'll be fine. just a rough start to the morning is all," he says, shrugging. His smile lessens just a little.

"I'm sorry," you say, squeezing his hand.

"don't be. i'm fine, really."

Sans is a little withdrawn for the rest of the day, so the two of you spend most of it on the couch. You try to see if maybe he wants to go to Grillby's for lunch, just to get him outside, but he plays the flattery card and says he'd rather have one of your sandwiches. And how can you say no to that? At least Sans seems to need you.

You think that maybe you've gotten over this petty jealousy. After time alone with Sans you're starting to feel better. But the moment Frisk comes home with Undyne you feel it rush back to the surface. Frisk barely takes the time to give you a hug before tossing their backpack into the corner and rushing out the door again with Undyne to go 'train'.

Sans doesn't seem to notice that there's anything wrong. He's absorbed in some book with a worn cover you can't quite make out. You think it's a sci-fi novel of some kind. Suddenly frustrated, you get up to go start preparing dinner. Something to keep you busy until you calm yourself down. He doesn't say anything to you as you leave the room.

You wish he'd follow you, check on you to make sure you're okay. Can't he tell that you're upset?

By the time you finish getting dinner prepped and simmering, Frisk and Undyne are back. As you leave the kitchen, the fish monster is on one end of the couch, propped against the armrest. She's staring at her phone, typing in a message. After a second, she scowls and deletes it. Then, after another second, she starts typing again. You think she must be texting Alphys. You wonder, briefly, if things between the two of them are just as awkward as they were last week. Probably, judging by the uncertain look on her face.

Sans and Frisk are napping on the other end of the couch. Frisk has Undyne's pillow in the skeleton's lap and is stretched out across the middle cushion. Their feet are resting against Undyne's leg. You should be happy, seeing the two of them getting along so well, but you're just reminded of last night. Frisk always comes to you when they have a nightmare but... Sans had taken care of them instead. It bothers you, more than it should. That was one of the few things that was explicitly yours, for as long as you can remember. It was something that your mother couldn't take away from you.

You turn and go back into the kitchen to sit by yourself.

Sans finally seems to realize that something's wrong while you're all eating dinner. Once everyone finishes and leaves the kitchen —Papyrus and Frisk head upstairs to play a game, Undyne decides to take a shower— Sans stays behind to help you clean up. The silence between you is thick and uncomfortable for the first few minutes as you pass clean dishes for him to dry.

"you know you can talk to me," he says finally, giving you a tentative glance as he puts away a glass in the cupboard next to you.

You sigh, struggling to find the right words. You want to tell him, to just vent some of your frustration and worries. That's what couples do, right? Talk about things. But your voice feels trapped in your throat, afraid to say anything. You don't know why this is so difficult. Didn't you want him to check on you?

The longer the silence sits between the two of you, the harder it feels to speak. Finally, as you scrub vigorously at the pot clutched tight in your hand, you just force yourself to say something. "I feel like everyone is doing my job for me. As Frisk's mother," you blurt out, anxiety buzzing in your chest.

For a second Sans doesn't say anything. He just looks at you. "you do realize that's not what's going on, right?" he says slowly.

"Sure, I guess," you say, sighing. "But I just... I keep feeling jealous. Like, I can't even take Frisk to school in the morning because one of you is always out of the house and it's 'on your way' so you might as well do it. And that makes sense, so it seems stupid to complain about it, but..."

"yeah. but you can just take Frisk yourself, you know." His voice is a little dismissive, and you can't help but feel a prickle of agitation.

"That's not what I'm trying to say, Sans," you say, frowning.

"what are you trying to say? we all care about frisk, and you. you don't have to do everything on your own. we're just trying to help out, babe." He takes the pot that you shove in his direction, giving you an odd look as he starts to dry it.

"I'm just trying to help you, dear. Let me take care of the baby. You should rest." Your mother's voice comes unbidden, drawing up anger from deep inside of you.

"I don't need help! I need to take care of my own child," you snap. Your shoulders hunch as you lean forward over the sink, chest starting to feel tight.

"you are taking care of frisk! you're their mom. no one is ever going to replace you. kids need their moms." He's staring at the dish in his hands, toweling it a bit harsher than necessary. So when your expression shifts as the bottom drops out of your stomach, he doesn't see it.

"Giving birth doesn't make someone a mother. You have to earn that title, and I need the chance to do that!" Yanking your hands out of the sink, you turn to fully face Sans, anger flooding your senses.

"you are babe," he says, thrusting the dishtowel onto the counter and looking at you.

"You just don't get it. I don't want to feel this way, Sans!"

"you're right, i don't get it. and i don't understand why you're getting pissed off at me."

"Because you're acting like it's all no big deal. I thought you'd try to help me feel better!"

"i'm trying!" he snaps, brow furrowing with frustration. "and it's not a big deal. you're making this out to be a lot more than it really is."

"Oh, so now I'm just exaggerating? Why are you being such an ass?"  You try to take the words back as they leave you in an angry rush, but it's too late.

Sans's frown twists into a glare. He shoves his fists into the pockets of his jacket, shaking his head and looking away from you. "forget it. you're not listening and i don't have to put up with this. maybe when you take a second to calm the fuck down you'll realize i was just trying to help."

"Sans wait—!" you cry out but it's too late. When you reach for him he blinks just out of your grasp and storms off for the door. He yanks it open and slams it shut behind him, leaving you behind in shocked silence.

You sink back against the counter, a wet hand almost slipping against the smooth surface as you hold yourself up. No, no no no. What have you done? All the anger leeches out of you in seconds, leaving behind an overwhelming sense of fear. You screwed it up. He's furious and it's all your fault. You feel paralyzed, torn between frustration at him and yourself, desperate to go back and apologize. You wish you never said anything at all.

He left you, and you're scared it means he's left you for good.

Sliding down to the floor, you bury your face in your damp hands and start to sob.

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