Fairytale Complex - [Sans x Reader]

Chapter Six | Dogbass (Part 2 of 2 | His POV)

They stand up like an undead from their grave, almost stumbling to get back to their feet and taking up all the strength they have left to stare at the man with a somber gaze. One look at their face tells they're about to either blow up or faint, the latter Sans assumes more of them based on what he knew about them so far. He stays closer by as a result and tries not to intervene yet, finding himself watching by the sidelines as he always seemed to do even before his life here on the Surface.

"I'm aware I can't just trust these people easily, but that doesn't mean they aren't worthy of being heard." They take a breath far too shaky and followed by a pause far too lasting. "I… I may not be the best (mother/father) out there, but I do care. And I'll show that by making sure I'm aware of the monsters' actions while still allowing my child to keep being friends with them." The skeleton takes his gaze elsewhere when he notices a camera flash from nearby. The owners behind those devices, most recording and some taking snaps of the scene, are either snickering or left with their mouths agape as they continue to engrave the scene both in their phones and minds. "I'll accept whatever decision CPS makes in terms of Frisk's safety, but for now, I…" The human interrupts their own sentence when they stumble, cutting his idea of dealing with those nosy people short. "I…"

They take a slow step back, huff out an exhausted breath, and -- without missing a beat -- stumble again and fall back. The skeleton takes a leap and stands behind them, nulling their fall with his own body. The last words to leave them are incoherent mumbles, and their half-lidded eyes close shut as they press their face against his chest for support.

The man continues with his rant regardless, pricking some annoyance into Sans's mind as he attempts to tune out the noise and concentrate more on the human in his arms.

"Hey," he calls out, louder the second time when it goes unheard. "Can you stay quiet for a sec? They're sick."

"Oh, they're sick alri-"

"He said shut up."

A familiar voice helps him deal with the man, though he doesn't care over who the person is right now. Instead, he drags the fainted human with him back to an empty seat and thanks another when she offers hers. As more people spread out, he's provided with more space to spread their body across the seats left out for them, taking up three in total. 

"(Y/N)?"

His call is responded to by another mumble, much weaker and quieter than the last. He sighs and takes their face with one hand, using the other to keep their body from falling off. "Can you open your eyes for me, please? I need you to look at me."

Sans reminds himself of their satchel and turns his gaze around to see the man he'd given up his seat to's thought the same way as him. He gives it to him and helps keep (Y/N) in place while he takes a look inside, retrieving a first aid kit from its contents. The monster whispers a blessing under his breath and turns back around, nodding for the man to step back to his seat while he returns to tending to the fainted human. "Thank you."

The man nods back and receives help from the earlier woman as he limps back to his seat. Hushed fighting noises can be heard between the man who started the fight and the man quelling it, though once more, the skeleton can care less about the owner of that voice as he tries to focus more on the situation at hand. "(Y/N)," he calls out, louder this time. "Do somethin' if you can still hear me."

Another quiet mumble leaves their mouth as they furrow their gaze, likely troubled by a pointed headache -- or what could be a migraine at this point. He stops crouching and kneels next to them instead, taking a few more items from their belongings after he's settled himself next to them. A soft but sudden swerve from the bus sends them too close to the edge, though he manages to gather some Karma from the earlier event, strong enough for him to create a barrier and keep them from following off the makeshift hospital bed. His hands are shaking, though he doesn't acknowledge it. Be it from the agreement's terms looming over him or the human in his hands far too weak for them to last another hour -- or a mixture of both -- he's not initially sure of, but another look at their scrunched up face and how their expression's furrow turns far more harsh and denoting of their ill state makes him dismiss the consequences of the agreement and concentrate more on the health of the human he was barely just getting to know well enough as a potential friend.