The Smell of Old Books (Sans/Reader)

Sicky Sweet

(holY DAMN I LOVE YOU GUYS.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME.

i'm back and ready to write, write, write! thank you all so much for waiting and understanding!

i hope you all enjoy what i have in store.

(also: if you guys want to draw fanart for this fic, please do so! it makes me so happy just the thought of that, so just do it! all i ask is if you guys link me to it so i can see! thank you!)

If you've learned anything throughout this ordeal, it was that orange juice tasted sickly sweet with four aspirins in your system.

The pain still ached like a bitch, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. It felt like a big bruise someone kept whacking with a white hot pole but it was bearable. That was the key word here. If you couldn't bear the pain anymore, everyone around you agreed that was the time you were going to the hospital.

No buts, ands, or ifs about it.

Despite the pain, it was so relieving to hear that, no, the damage hadn't gone beyond just a graze. And, yes, your pain tolerance was absolute shit and that's why it hurt so much. Vivian tried to explain why it bled so awfully too, likening it to nicking yourself while shaving. Undyne seemed confused at that statement, bringing a dorky smile to your face. Well. That answered a question you would never ask.

You sat at your typical chair, bringing your legs to your chest. Your shoes were off and your fuzzy pink socks were showing. Undyne and the others would've joked about it if the circumstances were different.

Honestly, you felt exhausted. It was just barely hitting nine in the morning but, damn, you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

Sans's jacket was so warm and...

"_____," Undyne's voice snapped, bringing you to your senses, "Stay awake."

You nodded and rubbed your eyes, yawning loudly.

Sans sat at Undyne's chair next to you, playing with your hand absentmindedly. If there was one thing for coincidence, it was that your shot arm was on the same side as your cut open hand. You had just barely taken off the bandages yesterday as it was, the scabs littering like pen marks all over it. Thank god that it didn't hurt anymore, or else you'd likely be in tears all over again.

"We need to find some sort of gameplan," Vivian said suddenly, looking determined, "This is something that can't go unheard of."

Sans let go of your hand and stared at her, looking dumbfounded.

Vivian and Undyne stood at the other side of the counter, too restless to sit down somewhere. They closed the blinds when they first came in, so the only light was the small hints of sunlight that shone through. You didn't want the artificial light just yet, so you asked to keep it off. They all agreed immediately, probably because of your condition.

Sans sighed, "what are we going to do? we're monsters. it's not like anyone's going to give a damn."

Vivian looked hurt, offended even, "You can't just give up. Your girlfriend just got shot, almost killed! Doesn't that seem reason enough just to call the police?"

"Sans has a point," Undyne responded, uncharacteristically quiet, "No one did anything just barely, no one even called the goddamn cops. He had a gun, Vivian."

She still argued, "Those people are idiots! C'mon, _____, let's go to the police station and file this right now."

You blinked a few times and opened your mouth to say something.