Only 4 more chapters to go, guys. :-)
★
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.
“I might’ve found something good.” (Y/N) lets go of his arm, facing their lap, smile vanishing entirely. “Maybe it won’t be enough to get the mayor behind bars, but. . . It should be enough to get him off your back and everyone else’s.”
“Whaddya mean it ain’t enough? Any piece of evidence should be enough to tail ‘im down.”
They look at him, managing another smile, this one tight-lipped and shaky. A single attempt at speaking makes it falter, visage losing its confidence. “If I do that, it would mean everyone who helped me would be put at risk. Alphys’s in a tight spot again ‘cuz of what she said in court, so if I uncovered what you guys did to rescue me, then. . .”
“Then what? Ya gotta be truthful, (Y/N). Good intentions or not, ya need to be honest with the court -- We already knew what we were signin’ ourselves up for by breaking into private property and facing those guys."
“But that would mean you’ll all get some sort of penalty for what you did! I- I don’t think I can handle that. Seeing you here’s bad enough as it is.”
Wary of their train of thought, Sans searches for something -- anything that might help contradict their statement and turn it around, their conclusion far beyond what he agreed with.
Frisk had taken the job of forming the infiltration plan, while Toriel, Mettaton, Napstablook, Undyne, Alphys, and himself were in charge of executing it. He already knew what he was getting himself into by facing the mayor, and the others were the same. If there was one thing he had learned from having been given the opportunity to reach the Surface, it was that acting the way he had before wasn’t going to be effective. Even if his powers were only useful when his enemy gave him enough karma to turn against them, he still had to take action now.
Leaving things for last wasn’t an option anymore.
He grabs their hand, rubbing his thumb over the engagement ring, the scenery and sensation both equally surreal. To know (Y/N) had finally worn it was a feeling similar to that of stargazing actual stars rather than the small, glowy rocks from the Underground -- an understatement, even. It was far beyond complex for him to grab onto the concept that he was actually doing this -- that he had actually crafted a future with them by his side.
“No matter what happens in court, the worst thing that can happen’s we get a few years of sentence or probation. I’m sure that new judge wouldn’t go farther than that if you show proof of the mayor setting all this up. Hell, wasn’t he the one responsible for you even losing consciousness in the first place? Are ya really gonna let that go unnoticed -- even when he went s’far as orderin’ some folks to hurt people you’re close with? I'd say now's not the time for you to start doubtin' yourself, pal.”
He holds their cheek next, blinking once before placing a kiss to their lips.
“I believe in ya, (Y/N).”
The human sighs as soon as Sans pulls away, shoulders stiff. They stand up and request for him to stay in place, walking off to the exit when he nods.
He waits for their return, irises focusing on the clock by the officer’s desk, noticing he was already twenty minutes into their visit. Five more minutes pass until their return, emerging from the same door with a large, paper bag in their hold.
Carefully, they sit down next to him again, peering into the bag and shuffling some of its contents before looking back to him. “They wouldn’t let Faust go with me, but. . . This is for you.”
From the contents they retrieve a lollipop and a folded sheet of paper. He takes the items, hope growing inside his soul when he inspects them. “He made this?”
The lollipop, while disfigured, shines with colour, traces of magic present inside it. Shades of blue, black, and yellow cover the sweet, simulating a starry sky. The paper reads for him to enjoy it, a ‘come back soon’ thrown right under it.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) replies, nodding. “I, uh. . . have something for you, too.”
A cupcake is the next thing to come out of the bag, a fainter trace of magic emanating from it. He takes it, bread soft -- hinting at its freshness.
“Toriel was teaching Faust how to make monster food, so I figured I had to learn too if we're gonna keep living together. It’s. . . not that strong, but the taste shouldn’t be too horrible.”
“The way you’re sayin’ that just makes me wanna taste it right here and now.”
“Please don’t,” they say, laughing. “It’s embarrassing.”
“That's karma for reading my book while I was still around.”
They try to stop him, though he uses what little magic he has left to avoid that, creating a small barrier between them and himself. He bites down on the pastry without second thoughts, almost instantly absorbing the little magic possessing it. The flavour spreads in his mouth: spongy, frosted, and just a tad too uneven in terms of salt and sugar. It was still warm, that sole factor making up for the rookiness of the human's skills when it came to preparing sweet foods.
“It’s good.”
“You’re lying -- I can see it on your face!”
Sans chuckles, half of the cupcake already gone. “Maybe it needs work on a few places, but it tastes good -- That, or it’s just my hunger speaking.”
(Y/N) returns his laugh, though it’s not long until they frown. “Don’t they give you anything here? You didn’t tell me you were hungry the last time I called you.”
“It wasn’t all that important back then. ‘Sides, they still hand out human food, so that should be enough ‘till I get outta here.”
Frown deepening, the human narrows their eyes at him, handing him the bag.
“Don’t say that. Your health is important, even here,” they state, persisting until he takes the bag in his hold. “These might not be good, but here. I- I’ll take you out for some actual monster food when you’re out for the day of the trail.”
He laughs again, glancing at the clock to see fifty minutes had passed, leaving him with only ten. “Thanks, cupcake. Tell Faust he’s a good kid.”
They look offended -- disgusted even, a sight that only makes him grin wider.
“Don’t you dare use that nickname with me again.”
“Fine. I’ll try not to. . .”
“Don’t-“
“. . .Sweet n' Salty Pastry.”
“That’s worse!”
★
Alone again, Sans can only pace back and forth, cell silent with the exception of his feet being dragged around the cold, cement floor. He tries to find memory of anything that might help for tomorrow’s final day of investigation -- anything that could help (Y/N) turn out successful and not end up in jail themselves.
While the treatment he was given was far from hospitable, he was partially lucky to have a cell for himself. Having someone else around was poking a bear with a stick, his background more than sufficient for him to be in constant conflict with someone opposing with his choices. At first, he was avoided for the simple rumour of the strength of his magic, yet as the days passed, they began taunting him, noticing how weak he was becoming the longer he went on living without monster food.
Sans doesn’t dare to imagine what others could do to (Y/N).
Unlike them, he still had some fight in him, while he could tell the human had not yet recovered from the aftermaths of their kidnapping. The stitches were still far from reaching full recovery, and there was much to be said about the strength of their soul despite him being able to feel it now. They were tired, he could tell -- using all the strength they had in them left to take these matters to court.
He can only hope the lawyer assigned to them is capable enough to carry on with the case and persist with the human until the end. It was difficult coming up with a scenario that involved them losing. He wanted them to win -- to be back home with them, Faust, and nothing else besides peace and quiet.
The monster sits down on the wooden plank, pushing the pillow aside to take out the note and lollipop Faust had left for him. Traces of magic are stronger compared to the cupcakes (Y/N) had prepared for him.
Was the human not yet aware about them being able to control those abilities, or was there truly something going wrong with their soul? Worse yet, were they losing Hope as he had so many times before, or was he overthinking things? And wouldn't that imply they wouldn't have even bothered visiting him today?
Sans relents with a huff, incapable of grasping an understanding towards their line of thought. He takes mental note to ask to see their soul again soon, afraid of his deduction being -- or becoming -- a truth.