Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Forty-Two

“Living things need not just nourishment for the body, but for the soul as well.” – Carole & Tuesday |  Episode 15

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Third Person POV

Sans’s Perspective 

Solana has a plan, and Sans knows it. 

Why else would she invite a fourth person into the car right after finishing dinner at Grillby’s? Better yet, why would she even pull Grillby with her and leave his business in the hands of his two other workers just for him to sit next to her and leave Sans with (Y/N) at the backseat, going as far as turning on the radio for additional privacy? 

While he knew he needed to talk with his (girlfriend/boyfriend) about what they went through and ask if they needed help to cope with it, he had been avoiding the topic in fear of failure. He decides to take a first shot though, remembering the earlier days when he used to work at the Judgement Hall and the speeches he gave to those who went there.

“(Y/N), uh. . . Do you-“

He’s cut off by them hooking their hands around his arm, pressing themselves closer to him. As if that wasn’t enough to make his soul jump, (Y/N) presses a kiss on his teeth and mutters a thank you close to his ear cavity. 

“For what?” he asks, the warmth of their actions still lingering on his teeth. 

“For lots of things,” they reply, a laugh leaving their lips.

He grows silent for a moment, trying and failing to stay resolved with his prior plans of having a serious talk with them. “(Y/N)?”

They nudge even closer to him -- close enough for him to feel the strong vibrations of their soul. “Yeah?”

“Do ya wanna talk about what happened over there?”

The smile on the human’s face falls out, hands clenching tight onto his arm as their fingers dig deep into the hardness of his bones. They don’t reply verbally, using their head to nod instead. “How did you guys know I was there?”

“I meant about how you feel, (Y/N),” Sans persists, sensing a change of subject. “Did those guys try anything with you?”

“N- No,” (Y/N) stutters, managing another smile as their hold grows even tighter. He can start feeling pain prick at him, though he doesn’t shake them off just yet. “I was. . . scared, though. There was a guy and a girl laughing and joking around about what they wanted to do with me, but in the end. . . All they did was shoot me and refuse to let me die ‘till I went out there in those clothes.”

Noticing the furrow of his brow, the human lets go of their snake-like grip on him, retrieving a chuckle Sans tries to suppress. “You’ve got a strong hold there, pal. No wonder you fought them off for so long.”

Liveliness returns to the human’s face when he comments that, embarrassment surging in their expression when they spot faint nail imprints and scratches on his arm. “Sorry for that. I. . . I didn’t think you’d bruise like that.”

“How’d ya think I bruised, then?”

“Maybe through the soul? . . .Kinda like how you can’t touch ghost monsters?”

“You’re sayin’ I’m like a ghost, then?”

“Not ‘like’, but similar to.”

“So ya think I’m spooky?”

“Again, not spooky. . . but cute," they correct, laughing. "It’s so weird wherever I compare you with Papyrus -- You almost look like the younger brother of the two.”