Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Thirty-Two, Part One

“Yeah, ‘cuz the car broke down, dummy.”

You place a hand on his head and ruffle up his hair, though he looks at you with the same amount of mischief as before. “And he gave you that thing you have on your phone -- That means you’re dating!”

“Alright, Sherlock -- Hold up one second. You know I can’t do that.”

“Yet,” he objects, pointing a finger at you. “I read the newspaper, too. You went with the mayor to talk about it!”

“Remind me not to give you coffee again, Faust,” you scold, dodging his assumptions. “You’re way too hyped about this.”

Faust pouts when you put an end to the conversation, ignoring his frowns and dramatic sighs while you clean. He covers his nose with a clean rag and begins tidying up when you start to hum a tune over his speech, preventing him from getting another word in your situation with Sans.

The phone shows the unread message from your cousin and Sans’s missed call when you pick it up to check the time, fifteen minutes having flown past during your bickering with Faust. You start to hurry with your chores after that, wanting nothing more than to find a place today before sundown -- You couldn’t bear thinking about Jessie on a constant basis whenever you stepped foot into your room.

Faust notices when you stop humming over his protests and catches you frowning at your thoughts. Without a word, he stops clearing the dust to approach your side, cuddling up to you by leaning his head against your shoulder.

 
★
 

“Hey.”

You don’t know what to say when he picks up. It’s noon thirty by the time you call him back. 

“How’re you holding up over there? We couldn’t really talk much yesterday.”

That last statement drives out a pang in your heart. Nobody knew about what happened on Monday. The day later, however, you had calls from every which way -- from concerned friends and family, to journalists and old co-workers in the force. Sans had been one of the first people to call, yet you couldn’t manage so much as a few words with him before another call interrupted. 

“I’m doing better,” you reply, walking out of the storage room. Your steps are slow as you make it down to the living room, where Faust is multi-tasking by doing his homework and watching television. He doesn’t spring up to question if it was the person you had been trying to keep secret from him, though that still doesn’t erase his capability of lowering down the television’s volume a few numbers to listen in on your conversation. “I didn’t think I’d do it, but we’re moving again.”

”About that,” Sans intervenes and trails off after, Papyrus’s whispering sounding in the background. “I talked with a. . . friend about this. Didn’t get into too much detail 'bout what you told me, but he has a hotel business not too far from Faust’s school. I can give you the details if you want.”

You don’t pry on how strained the word ‘friend’ comes out, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering why he was reluctant to call him that way. Rather than questioning him over that, you accept his help and stay quiet for him to give you the information. He starts by saying the name of the hotel, the location, and how much it would cost to stay there. The price makes you think either it’s a humble place or that the word 'friend' meant he had to bargain his way to get on the owner’s good side. He doesn’t give you much space to object over the cost of the stay or why he was even bothering to go that far for you in the first place.

”The guy’s name's Mettaton,” he mentions, that last bit of information ringing a bell on the back of your head. “You can go there today if you don’t wanna spend anymore time at your old place.”

”Thank you,” you speak up finally, mind wandering in search for the familiarity of that name. If you weren’t mistaken, Mettaton was one of the monsters you were close to handcuffing -- both for the purpose of his creation and for the dangerous game show he put Frisk under. It was due to the child’s words he was set free, the second reason being he looked the most human out of all the monsters that rose to the Surface, a factor that made authority more lenient to letting him go. “But, uh, I don’t think I can do that.”

”Why not?” 

”I. . . I was the one in charge of his background check when the Barrier broke. I was close to arresting him if Frisk hadn’t intervened in on that.”

”He told me that much,” Sans states, the sound of him chuckling making you wish you could hang up. Those words didn’t sound as nice when you said them out loud. “Shame you didn’t do it, but at least it has its perks.”

”I’m serious,” you say, mulling over your words. “I. . . Maybe he was built to destroy at one point, but Frisk. . . They- They were firm in their decision, and they wouldn’t let me take him away. I followed along with the first time our department started throwing monsters in jail without batting an eye, but I. . . I didn’t know what to do when I saw innocent ones being pulled in, too. I turned my badge in after the chief found out I bailed on my mission. And so he. . . He laid me off, and I walked away without thinking too much about what I was doing.”

”Whoa there.” Sans’s voice stops you from rambling. “Undyne wasn’t kidding when she said you turned into Alphys sometimes. Slow down -- I already know what you did back then.”

”You do?” you ask, surprise in your voice. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before."

“It’s impossible not to know when I’m one of the people in charge of looking after Frisk.” He stops talking for a moment, and you can soon hear him sit down on something soft. You figure he's in the living room by the television drowned out in the background. “I knew you were the cop Frisk told me about way since we first met. I didn’t bring it up ‘cuz, for starters, that woulda made me look like a creep, and second of all, I figured you really did change your mindset if you were signin' your kid up in Tori’s school. You said it to me yourself you got laid off 'cuz you didn't like the new laws."

"But still, I-"

"We can talk about this later if you're still worried about it. But right now, I called you to check how you're doing."

"I'm fine, really," you assure him, caught off guard by the warmth tracing his voice. "You don't need to worry so much about this."

"That's gonna be hard to do considerin' how I feel about you now, (Y/N)."

You can feel your face warm up at that, mind remembering the note he had given you on Monday. The hand holding onto your phone squeezes the device tighter while you think over his words. You don't find anything to say, though you can feel a smile stretch on your face.

"Well. . ." you trail off, trying to wipe your smile when you see Faust spying from nearby. "Thanks again for helping me out with this. Take care, alright?"

"You too, pal.”