Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Fifty-One

Only 4 more chapters to go, guys. :-)

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Third Person POV

Sans’s Perspective

Sans crosses another day off the calendar, the continuation of the trail barely two days away. He’s grown used to his cell, always alone and only thriving with what little energy he could get from human food. An agreement was made on his powers being too unknown for them to trust him with a cell partner, and they hardly believed the concept of human and monster food being separate -- how each replenished different energies and how each had its individual purpose. 

He’s weak -- weaker than he ever was before.

“You’ve got a visit, pal.”

An officer shows up behind the metal bars, a set of keys in one hand and a handicap in the other. “Your human’s here to talk with you, so we’ll give you a chance to step out, so long as you wear this 'till you're back in your cell.”

He makes an effort to cast his gaze away from the officer, spotting (Y/N) behind him, looking more attractive than he had ever seen them before. 

Perhaps it was his emotions speaking, but they looked about as refreshing as an oasis during a time of drought, reserved smile and reluctant body language only driving out his want to see them -- to be near them again. Their warmth was something he missed whenever it was time to call it a day, having to settle with a wooden plank made to pass off as a bed, no mattress or blanket whatsoever. Only a pillow was given to him, yet it was about as thick and sturdy as a soda cracker, texture on a similar level.

“You’ve got an hour and are allowed to go as far as the backyard. Don’t try to go further, else you want this thing ringing and us going after you."

Sans nods, far beyond wanting to spark conversation with the man -- the same one who had labeled him a beast rather than a monster, and the same one who had laughed in his face when talking about his relationship with (Y/N).

The ‘your human’ was starting to get on his nerves, words sounding more possessive with each time they came out of his mouth. 

Maybe he was in love with the human, but he was not their property -- nor were they his. The way the man said it changed each time, sometimes using it to refer to him being nothing but property, and sometimes using it to make (Y/N) seem lowly for letting themselves be owned by a monster.

“Do you need to sit down, Sans?”

The same person he was thinking about aids in making him shake away from his ever growing irritation towards the officer, their careful touch enough to help his soul reach a sense of calm.

“I’m alright,” he speaks up, breathing in. “Think we could just stay here? I don’t really wanna deal with anyone else right now.”

“Of course,” they reply, smiling. “Why are you even asking? I’m here for you.”

Sans manages to loosen his smile, lured by the calid traces of their voice and the bright look to their eyes, seemingly hopeful and ready to see the mayor’s face again.

“Did ya find anythin’ good? You look nice.”

Their smile widens, hands grabbing his arm to pull him close. They make him sit next to them -- outside of the cell, but remaining close to it, keeping in mind his words by sitting beside him on the waiting bench of the office.