Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter One

Your son was failing Math.

You frown at the graded paper in your hold, a fifteen out of fifty marked with a red pen on the top corner of the test. (S/N) shrunk further into a corner of the room, waiting for you to scold him at any moment.

“We have tutoring services available if you cannot afford outside help,” Toriel speaks up, a gentle smile showing on her face. She pushes her glasses back and shuffles some papers and documents, the pristine look of her work desk being the only thing to stand out more than her. “The enrollment fee covers those services as long as your son attends a lesson at least once a week. Would you like me to register him? You can talk with the tutor to make an agreement with him on a schedule that best suits you and your child.”

“That would be great,” you reply, taking the card she offered out to you in your hand. “Thank you.”

A phone number along with the name ‘Sans’ was scribbled over the card, the goat lady’s polished handwriting making the service seem more professional than it was supposed to be. You stuff the card along with the others inside your wallet and thank her one last time before standing up from the chair to take your leave. Your son follows closely behind, still afraid to speak after the grade he received.

You step out of the principal's office and make your way down the hallway, searching for the skeleton you often saw cleaning the floors and scolding students whenever they ran around the halls. The time marked four o'clock already, and with the more you walk around without spotting him, the more you believe he'd already ended his shift for the day. You were about to give up on your search and resort to calling his number, the school's exit already visible to you from a short distance away.

What made a change in plans was the slippery floor underneath you, the feeling of losing balance making you close your eyes shut. You stumble on your feet, preventing the fall by holding onto the nearest support you could find.

“You okay there, buddy?” a low voice asks.

You open your eyes after making sure you weren't going to fall. Your eyes catch the image of the same skeleton you were searching for ever since leaving the principal's office, and your hands were holding onto the mop in his hold for dear life.

“Oh, uh. . . Sorry,” you mutter, letting go of his mop. You rub the back of your neck, an apologetic look crossing your face. “There weren't any warning signs around that I could see.”

“It was my bad,” he assures you, chuckling. “I forgot to do that before I started moppin' the halls.”

You look behind you to see (S/N) staring at you, relief showing on his face after seeing you found a way to prevent the fall. He shyes away from you and the skeleton after catching onto what topic was going to be spoken next. Not wanting to hear the subject of how he was failing math again, he sits down on one of the benches nearby and waits for you to talk with the tutor standing next to you.

“Before you leave, sir,” you call out, noticing he was about to go back to mopping the halls. “I'm here to ask about your tutoring services.”

“Uh, sure,” he replies, looking up at you. “I don't normally teach adults, but I can try.”

“Quite the comedian, are you?” you comment, raising an eyebrow and letting a cocky smile take over the firm, professional look you tried to maintain when first talking with him.

“Considerin' the font I was named after,” he remarks, the smile that never seemed to wipe off his face tugging slightly upwards. “But enough of that. Whaddya need help with? I can tutor your kid on science and math.”

“It's math,” you explain, lowering your voice as if to respect the privacy of your son's grades. “He. . . got a fifteen out of fifty mark on his first test, and well. . . I can't exactly look for an outside tutor with our current income.”

“Leave it to me, then.” Sans leans the mop against the wall. He rummages around his front pockets, retrieving a notepad and a pen from their contents. “What time's best for ya?”

“Could it be on Fridays around six p.m.?”

“Sure,” the skeleton replies, nodding. He jots down the information on his notepad, looking back up at you afterwards. “Here, or at your home?”

Curiosity sparks in you when being asked that question, surprised to have these services accommodate as well as they were with your work schedule. The money spent on the enrollment felt like a steal with how many benefits this gave you and your child. Then again, the school's primary purpose was to work as a non-profit organization for the benefit of monsters and humans coexisting together, so you figured it was one of the few perks that came with it.

“Would it be alright with you if it were at home?” you question, not wanting to make him feel obligated to answering positively to that question.

“I've got no problem with that – It's my job either way. Just write down the address, and I'll be there this Friday at six.”

Nodding, you take the notepad and pen from his hold, scribbling down the address. You make sure it was easy to understand, even going as far as to sketch a simplified map and add silly details to the directions of your home.

“Thank you so much, sir,” you speak up again, offering your brightest smile at him. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days, then.”

“Just call me Sans,” he suggests, a snicker leaving his teeth. “The 'sir’ makes me feel too old and accomplished.”

You muffle a laugh at his comment, saying your goodbyes and signaling for your child to follow you out of the school. He directs a reserved wave at the skeleton when passing by him, still shocked by the grade he received to greet his new tutor properly.

You breathe in when stepping outside, grateful the new school offered as many benefits as it did. Now, your next mission was to organize the mess of your home before Friday marked itself on your calendar.