"If you are not scared then there is no merit in being brave." - Kerry Greenwood, Death at Victoria Dock
★
A long line starting from the service counter to the waiting area of the lobby fill the hotel with all sorts of conversation. You stand at the end, against leaving the matter for last minute. It was the only place available that exchanged your usual currency for monster gold -- or at least, the only place you knew about. The time on your phone shows you have enough time before leaving the hotel to pick up Faust and take him to the counselor, though not even ten minutes pass when you're interrupted from waiting, the echoey sound of Mettaton's voice ringing in your ears.
"Come with me for a moment, (Y/N)," he states, appearing right between you and the person waiting before you. He grabs you by the arm and pulls you out of the line, his hand letting go once you're free from the crowd. "I need to talk with you for a moment."
The robot leads you to the lobby, empty thanks to the late hour and the group of people waiting to exchange their currency. Only a few guests and clientele are around, too busy admiring the looks of the hotel to care about what you were discussing with Mettaton. He urges for you to follow him behind the counter now lacking a receptionist and scoots closer to you. His eyes are locked firm on you, denoting his stern feelings over what he was about to discuss with you.
"Jessie knows where you work, right?"
You remain quiet at that, the question being the last one you expected to hear from Mettaton. "Yeah. . . Why do you ask?"
"Do you feel safe there?"
"I'd be paranoid if I didn't -- My boss won't let me take graveyard shifts until things settle down. . . so I can't complain, either."
"That still doesn't mean you can't be too careful," he suggests, casting a frown at you. "I have a job offer for you if you want to start over again. It wouldn't be bad for you to live and work in brand new places." The robot's cutting voice makes you look at him, the depth to his concern making his facial expression almost surreal considering he was made of metal. "I plan on putting on a show for our restaurant the following month, but I'm short staffed," he explains, making eye contact with you. "How would you feel about catering for the event? I'm aware you've got a lot on your hands right now, but this won't be until then, and you won't be doing it for free."
You feel short of breath when he comments on that. You immediately make the assumption someone had told him about your current job and that the robot had misinterpreted your level of professionalism in the field. Although almost a year had passed since you started the job, bread and sweet rolls were as far as your talents went -- You were still the one in charge of tending to the cash register for most of the time.
"I'm sorry," you speak up, passing a hand across the back of your neck as a shy smile grows on your face. "But you've got the wrong person, sir -- uh, Mettaton. I mostly just work behind the payment counter."
"I know that, silly," Mettaton states, placing a hand on his hip. "Sans told me that part, but he also said you and Papyrus exchange recipes every once in a while. How good are you with savoury foods?"
"A lot better than with desserts, that's for sure."
"Good." He nods, a pleased smile crossing his face. "Think you could show me your skills this weekend at the restaurant? You'll have a bigger kitchen at your disposal."
"Sure," you return, smiling at him. "Do you have anything specific in mind?"
"I'll be leaving that to you, (Y/N). I'm sure you can whip up something creative -- I've seen your potential, and I think it's time you put to use on other things, too. Stress can wait until Monday, so just focus on enjoying yourself for now."
★
The scent of vanilla wafts through the air when you step into the counselor's room. There's a single desk and three chairs: one for her and two for her guests, plus the short bookshelf set on the rightmost corner of the room. The simplicity makes the winged monster stand out more than customary, though her presence is inviting rather than threatening, her smile and eyes being the main reason for it. She offers for you and your son to take a seat, and you notice the product of the aroma when you accept her offer. A small incense burner is at the edge of her desk, dispersing small puffs of vanilla all across the area.
Pleasantries are exchanged for a while, until it's time for her to confront Faust for visiting her office. She concentrates solely on him as she interrogates him over recent events and how he was coping with them. Stunned, the child stays quiet for a while, though you give him a soft nudge on the shoulder in hopes of him regaining the courage he displayed with you for the past few days.
"Don't be afraid, Faust," the Whimsun soothes, handing the boy a napkin when she sees him tear up. She's different to your co-worker in the sense that she talks louder and that she acts more confidently compared to her, though her appearance is almost the same as Sunny's. It's a scenario similar to the one when Faust failed his first math test, with the exception it was the school counselor now, and that Faust hadn't burst or made a fit. Unlike that day, he was trying to keep calm by blinking through the tears and looking down at his school shoes. "I'm here to listen."
His persistent demeanor from the past few days crumbles as he grows sullen and starts to sob, covering his face with his hands. Unfit to see him like this, you frown and offer him support by putting an arm around him, pulling him close to you. He buries his face against your shoulder, hiccups, and pulls away, managing to smile right as it falls back into a quivering frown. "I wanna go home. . ." he murmurs, looking down at the floor again. Quietly, he sniffs and wipes his tears with the sleeve of his uniform, avoiding your and the counselor's line of sight.
"You can do that after you tell me how you feel," the counselor persists, offering him another napkin. "(Miss/Mister) (Y/N) here told me you were taking this better than expected, but that your mood changed whenever the subject of your tutor or other parent was brought up."
"Sans's not my tutor anymore," Faust corrects, tone sounding angry and tired. You nudge him again as a way of scolding him for his behavior, though the Whimsun dismisses your intervention with the simple wave of her hand. "And Jessie's not my parent anymore."
"Why do you say that, Faust?"
"(Mom/Dad) says I can't get near Sans 'cuz he has that thing on his ankle. Bu- But I know they're hanging out in secret! I've heard (Y/N) talk with him on the phone before, but they won't let me see him."
"And what about Jessie, then? Do you dislike them?"
"(Y/N) does," Faust replies, faint creases forming on his forehead when he thinks too deeply over the subject. "I. . . I don't know if I do. But I'm angry at what they did to (mom/dad). J- Jessie made them upset before, but they hurt (Y/N) this time. . . And I don't know if I can forgive them anymore."
"Go on," she requests, nodding. "What was it that you saw when you brought the officer home with you?"
"I- I saw Jessie strangling (Y/N) when they were supposed to be sleeping. . . I heard screaming and weird noises from (mom/dad)'s room, and saw Jessie hurting (Y/N) when I opened the door. I went there with a police officer who said Jessie escaped from prison, and that they broke into our house."
"Just how much did you see?"
"I. . ."
Faust tells the counselor of all the things he had witnessed ever since the trail came to an end. He tells her in detail of Sans's sentence, of your hidden conversations with him, but most importantly, of the things he had seen when opening the door to your room. He almost grows petrified when he mentions what he'd seen. With a strained voice, he states kissing was only meant to be done without forcing the other person into it. Faust had seen the last time Jessie tried to kiss you, and it was clear you weren't in favour of them doing that based on the way you struggled to break free.
Remembering that day, you feel a shudder reach your spine and stand up involuntarily, excusing yourself from the two as you exit the Whimsun's office.
A breeze blows past when you step out of the room, taking this chance to view the school's east premises from afar. You can see a few students still waiting for their parents to pick them up, teachers talking with one another as they watch over the students, and Undyne covering up for Sans by sweeping the floors free from debris, taking a break every once in a while to have a talk with Alphys.
"Are you alright, (ma'am/sir)?"
You perk up at the sound of that voice, distant but familiar all the same.
★
Thank you for 1k+ reads! I hope you've been enjoying this story just as much as I have writing it. :-)
Take care, and see you 'till the next update!