Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“If I hadn’t made that promise,

Y  o  u  ‘  d    b  e    d  e  a  d    w  h  e  r  e    y  o  u    s  t  a  n  d   .   ”

…

Then he told you he wasn’t serious.

Heh.

You know he was perfectly capable of what he joked about. You haven’t really seen it for yourself, but you know he’s not weak, no matter how many times he loses to you in Mario Kart or sleeps—dead to the world—on the couch again.

You’ve seen his impossible 'shortcuts' that condense hours of travel into seconds.

You’ve seen him switch the gravity of things without even off his gloves.

You’ve seen him shift out of the way of projectiles in the blink of an eye.

(almost like a dodge, but that's impossible, right?)

For someone with 1HP…being powerful's not a bad thing in the least.

What’s not great is how he slips up. Looks at you the same way he would a threat, every once in a while.

He edges in front of Papyrus when you’re cutting vegetables. Takes his hands out from his pockets only when you train with Undyne. Watches you when mom Toriel turns her back for a moment.

You want to say the flash of blue in one eye is a trick of the light, but it only shows when you get frustrated and yell too loudly.

You saved his soul from Asriel's control—that bond is unbreakable even if he doesn't know—but he’s still a slightly guarded skeleton around you.

Sitting on those two barstools in Grillby's that are somehow always empty (except for whoopee cushions on occasion), you asked him.

'Do you trust me as much as the others?'

Before he could respond, you told him you know he’s rooting for you already.

He just watched you. And you watched back.

Eventually, staring at those massive black eye sockets and constant wide grin began to make you self-conscious (did his pupils get dimmer?), and you looked away. Bringing up the question again seemed unhelpful, so you haven't.

He’s quite hard to read, needless to say. Regardless of however much trust is shared.

You suppose that after all of the resets and deja vu he’s probably felt, you aren’t owed much of an explanation.

You know he cares. You know he wouldn’t ever hurt you or the rest of your friends. He’s your (dad-uncle-skeleton?) family member.

You trust him with your life. Even you don't give that kind of trust away on a whim.

You...just don’t think he fully trusts you with his own.

But there are some times that you could easily dust him (If we had the heart to dust anyone, that is), that he doesn’t flinch once. Hugs and sharing of space.

So, more likely, he just knows what you’re capable of.

After all, if Sans really thought you were a threat,

You’d be dead where you stand.

Chapter Text

“NGAAH! Frisk! They’re over here!”

“Child! Oh my god, it’s you!”

“HUMAN FRISK! I WAS SO SCARED!”

“F-Frisk?! Oh, thank god!”

“frisk is there? really?”

You clumsily clambered up, brushed away some snow, and sat on the shingles of the roof, staring at the falling flakes.

Now you were alone.

“..hey, kid.”

Almost alone. Of course he would follow you up here.

“you hear me, right?”

You let your head fall onto your knees and didn’t respond, hoping he would give up.

A gloved finger poked you in the side after a minute or two of silence. Guess it was worth a shot.

You reluctantly pulled your head up and side-eyed the skeleton. Sans was sitting criss-cross on the roof shingles with his other arm leaning on his lap, facing towards you. For once, his lined coat and gloves actually fit the weather.

“…there you are. what’s the deal?”

You tell him that he knows, and that you don’t want to deal with this right now.

“why would I know, if nobody else does?”

He cocked his head. “none of us know why you did this, buddy.

“you gave us a scare. it was the dead of winter.”

You had run away and hid in a cave near Ebbot after two months on the surface. You felt bad about it, of course, and apologized plenty, but you got upset when they started asking why.

“do you know what could have happened?”

You shift in place and tell Sans that you know Toriel would have killed him. He was babysitting for the day.

In the corner of your eye you see his pupils flicker.

“Do you think that’s all I care about, Frisk?”

You looked away, sighed and said you didn’t want to do thi-

An arm pulled you closer and you looked up.

Sans was looking straight at you with an unwaveringly neutral expression.

Now that you were closer, he looked…

tired.

More tired than usual.

His jacket had scuffs rather than just stains and the bags under his eyes seemed deeper.

Then Sans slumped, his eyes closed, and one hand dragged over his face.

“i said you gave us a scare. all of us.”

He didn’t let the implication go unsaid, for once. “you scared me.”

He put a hand back on your shoulder, hesitated, and then pulled you into a hug that was tighter than any before. He never initiated hugs.

You could feel him shaking just a little. You knew perfectly well that skeletons can’t feel cold.

After who knows how much time, you whispered your reason for running away to him.

You told him it was the same reason you fell down Mount Ebbot in the first place.

And when he stopped shaking, you knew you didn’t have to tell him that you weren’t going to run again.