Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Eighteen

Third Person POV

Sans's Perspective

“So when was the last time you saw them?” Undyne asks, directing her words at the skeleton, who was too caught up in his conversation with her to pay attention to anything else.

“A week ago,” he replies, a breathy chuckle leaving his teeth. “But if I'm gonna be honest, I don’t even know why I’m worryin’ about all this. It ain’t the first time a kid’s been absent for more than three days.”

“That’s what happens when those people are your friends,” the fish lady sneers, grin bright and wide as she snickers at the skeleton’s words. “Of course it’s normal for you to worry about ‘em. Don’t you feel the same about Grillby and all your friends at the bar?”

Sans sighs as he leans his head back on the dining chair, the scent of pasta boiling reaching his nasal cavity. “Yeah, I guess,” he comments, shrugging his shoulder bones and making eye contact with Undyne. “It kinda just feels weird -- making new friends, I mean. It’s like I’m living things all over again, gettin’ to feel and see all new kinds of stuff.”

“Like that time you invited them over to see Toriel’s garden?”

“That was Frisk's idea,” he objects, a laugh leaving his teeth. “But yeah, it was pretty nice -- I wouldn’t mind gettin’ to do something like that again.”

His conversation with Undyne is interrupted by Papyrus placing a steaming hot plate of pasta between him and the fish lady. He greets the two with a cheerful smile, the look on his skull making it clear he waited for them to give the new recipe a try.

“Thanks, Paps,” Sans speaks up, directing a freer smile towards his brother.

“Who gave you the recipe anyway?” Undyne asks, looking down at the plate to see colourful, ribbon-shaped pasta with garlicked broccoli on the side.

“It was (Y/N)!” Papyrus exclaims, excitement in his voice. “We have kept in touch ever since we went to visit them when they were sick!”

The elder skeleton stifles a laugh at his younger brother’s comment, finding it amusing how eager he was when it came to making friends who could cook. “I didn’t know you were pals. Are you guys friends on Overnet?”

“Why, yes,” the taller skeleton replies, nodding firmly. “I saw you were friends with them there, hence why I figured I could do that myself. I was surprised to hear they work at a bakery rather than a restaurant!”

“Wasn’t (Y/N) an officer before that, too?” Undyne chimes in, interest in her voice.

Both heads turn to look at Sans, the two aware he was the most acquainted with the human to know more about the topic. Papyrus seems to be the least informed of the pair, though he waits with the same amount of eagerness as the woman next to him. Sans’s smile widens at that sight, though he tries to hide it by shifting on his seat and looking elsewhere.

“Yeah, but they quit after what happened at their town with the monsters that moved in there.”

“You mean that thing about keeping them in separate categories?”

Sans nods at Undyne’s question, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface of the table. Steam has stopped rising from the plate, though when he pricks the pasta with the fork and moves some aside, a little puff of heat rises from it.

“The new lay off got to them first, but it was still for the same reasons,” he explains, pinching a small portion of pasta through the prongs of the fork. “The department over there didn’t want officers who thought monsters should be treated the same as humans.”

Sans brings the food to his teeth, using his pliable cheekbones to chew on the food. He remembers the day (Y/N) invited him out for cold sandwiches and a cup of coffee. The human had been enjoying their food too much to notice how his cheekbones could move in order to let him chew, but he was certain they would react just like the time they had accidentally popped his hand right from its socket. It was similar to how people looked at him strangely for the fact that he had two irises instead of hollow eye sockets -- with the exception that there were people like (Y/N), who wanted to understand those differences rather than avoid them.

“You spaced out,” Undyne comments, the cheeky tone of her voice making him alert. “Thinking about (Y/N) now? I don’t blame you for it, though -- It has been a week since you last saw them.”

“What’re ya playin’ at Undyne?”

Undyne shrugs, leaning her back against the seat. The dining chair creaks as she props the seat on two legs and holds it back with the wall behind her. Confidence emanates from her body as a smile spreads on her face.

“I’m just saying,” she dismisses, pose unwavering. “I think it’s pretty cool you’re thinking more about stuff like this now.”

“Whaddya mean by-"

“I agree,” Papyrus interrupts, booming with joy. “You are worrying more about those two humans with each passing day! It is nice to see you happy with this choice, brother.”

“Thanks, Paps,” Sans relents, letting out a mix between an exhale and a laugh. “I, uh, appreciate your support.”

“That is my duty as family. I do not wish to see you down, nor against meeting new people, brother. Our lives at the Surface are just beginning -- for all thousands of us. We should all be deserving of fulfilling something from this milestone.”

The conversation simmers down as Sans continues to eat from his portion of the meal. Undyne begins as well, already halfway done when she compliments Papyrus for his recipe. Sans says his own words of praise, the new dish he had gotten to taste along with the improvement in Papyrus’s cooking skills being enough of a reason for him to finish until the last bite. The peppery seasoning brings bursts of flavour and the mild taste of the pasta contrasts with the broccoli dipped in garlic broth.

He glances a look at his phone after eating, spotting three new, unread messages from Toriel. It’s as if instant regret falls upon him the precise moment he skims through them.

Greetings, Sans! I hope you are well. ]:)

This is to inform you that Faust’s mathematics lessons have been cancelled as of today. He has been officially marked as a departing student, as he will be studying abroad for the rest of the semester.

P.S. If you are in disposal, would you be so kind as to give (miss/mister) (Y/N) a call? I have not been able to contact them ever since the weekend ended. Please do update me on this matter as soon as you are able to.

Sans stares at the messages and reads them over again, disbelief being the primary emotion to stick out from all the questions he had. He locks the phone, sets it down, and thinks on how to respond, finding himself hesitant to delve further into his thoughts.