Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Extra #3: Choice #2 Results

Choice A

You tell him it's nothing.

"I'm just tired," you add after that, strengthening your resolve by not letting the truth of the situation slip from your tongue.

Sans sounds reluctant and generally unconvinced by your response, though he doesn't push further from that. You ask how's work going for him to make up for it, yet the conversation falls short the second he gives you an answer. The last thing you say before hanging up is a quick goodbye, not knowing what other topic of conversation you could bring up that wouldn't involve anything personal.

It's at that moment that you realize that -- if it weren't for Faust -- you would have never met with Sans in the first place. Almost all of the time you had spent with the monster was when Faust was around. Now that he wasn't, it was harder for you to keep what you had with the tutor of your son.

You finish the remaining half of the water and toss the empty bottle in the recycling bin. Then, you lean on the counter again and huff. The time you had to spare now that you didn't have the responsibility of looking after Faust makes you wish you could find something else that could distract your mind.

A scoff in annoyance leaves your mouth the moment your phone rings once with a new notification. You look at it to see the one thing you were expecting: another text from your ex.

Remember to bring me Faust's grades and transcript as soon as they're out.

★

Choice B

You tell him the partial truth.

He stays silent all the way until your last word, and only speaks up when you're done.

"So you're gonna bring this to court, then?"

"Yeah," you reply, chewing on the inside of your lip, a custom that had grown on you ever since Faust went missing around the house. "I'll use the messages, the missed calls, the note, and a witness as evidence. Sunny, my co-worker, she. . . She accompanied me on the way back from work. I had to work overtime that day, so she saw when I entered the house and came back out to her with the note in hand. I. . . I just hope it's enough."

"If it ain't, something's wrong with the judge," Sans comments, chuckling. "You look like you're covered on that part, but you don't sound too good right now. If you're gonna go up there to the judge, you gotta be sure about it."

"I'm worried I'll lose Faust," you add, voice trembling at that sole sentence, the mere thought of not getting to see him again making your knees quake just as much as your words. "I don't want to think what would happen if I lost the case."

"You've said than ten times already, (Y/N)." Sans laughs again, though it isn't mocking. If anything, he sounds genuine from the other line. "I get that you're worried about him -- Hell, Papyrus's is all I got, so I get that feeling whenever he comes home late, or whenever there's an accident close to where he works. I know you don't wanna lose him, but you gotta stay calm first. It won't help you if you can't think clearly."

Breathing in and then out, you feel weight fall from your shoulders as you conclude your conversation with him. It's already been an hour by the time you're finished talking.

"Thank you -- I really can't stress this enough," you speak up, ready to say your goodbyes. "It was. . . It really helped having you listen." You pause, mind feeling lighter since picking up the call. "Talk to you later? I know you must be busy."