Uncanny Trust- phan BDSM AU

Three

((Dan's POV))

The next morning I woke up and felt like I had been hit by a bus. My entire body was aching, my nose was stuffed up, my throat was sore, the works. I knew what this feeling was.

I had the motherfucking flu

It took me a moment to register where I was, after I had processed the pain. Once again the fear that I had been kidnapped flooded in, but it immediately left when I remembered what had happened the previous night. Phil had been kind to me, the maid had been kind to me, and no one had hurt me. Yet.

I tried to get up out of bed but stumbled and crashed to the ground, accidentally squeaking in pain. Just then I heard a knock on the door.

"Mr. Howell? Are you okay?" A female voice called. There was no accent, and I couldn't imagine who it might be. Possibly Phil's girlfriend? Or mum?

"Uh.....yeah. Come on in!" I called, voice scratchy and nasally.

The door clicked softly open and I saw a kind-eyed older woman dressed in a maid's uniform. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the state I was in. Apparently you can LOOK sick.

"Are you alright, sir? You don't look too good...."

"No.....I'm fine. Perfectly-" a loud cough ruptured from my throat, cutting me off.

"Lay back down. For as long as Mr. Lester let's you stay here, I'm adopting you and I am your mom. I will take care of you. Now, what's your first name? It seems pretty formal to call you Mr. Howell." She said quickly. My tired and foggy brain was whirring, trying to keep up with everything she was saying.

I slowly eased back into the comfortable bed, unable to hold back my sigh of contentment. "My name is Dan, and thank you for adopting me, although I'm sure I'll have to leave soon. What's your name?"

"Toriel. Strange name, right? And I couldn't imagine Mr. Lester kicking you out when you're sick, homeless, and hungry. He's pretty stern, but not cold-hearted."

extreme tw: child abuse, suicide, abusive relationship, alcohol, gore, flashback
"No one......no one......" I desperately tried to shake the bad thoughts out of my head. Distant snippets of memories from my toddlerhood. My dad beating my mum. Being told that she had committed suicide because she hated being my mother. I still wasn't sure wether to believe it or not. Finding alcohol at the age of fourteen and deciding to try it, thinking it would numb my pain. My dad beating ME. Calling me worthless, a fat and ugly faggot. And finally, the day not too long ago when he had kicked me out. The tears and blood dripping down my face from him bashing my head into a wall repeatedly, and then ordering me to leave because he used all his money for alcohol and drugs and couldn't pay for healthcare. I never did end up going to the hospital, I guess it healed itself well enough.

It wasn't until I felt Toriel gently shaking my shoulder that I realized I had been sobbing as I relived all the excruciating memories from my past.

tw over :3 pm me if you skipped over that part and need to know what happened

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked softly. I shook my head and she nodded understandingly. "Okay. You lay here and rest, I'm going to go get you some food. You look like you haven't eaten in a week!" She chirped, then strode out of the room and closed the door behind her.

That's because I haven't I thought to myself.

The pillow was silky and smooth against my tear-stained face. Before I knew it I had dozed back into dreamland, clutching at the blankets tightly. I wished I had someone to cuddle me, to even hug me at all.

*

A few hours later I blearily blinked my crusty eyes open, rolling over to see someone standing by the bed. And it wasn't Toriel. I almost screamed, then looked up and realized it was Phil.

His hair was a bit messy and he was dressed casually, in jeans and a jumper. The blue eyes that had both intimidated and intrigued me the previous night were now pooled with worry.

There was a moment of awkward staring, me expecting him to speak first, then me realizing that he could possibly be waiting for ME to speak.

"Oh....umm......hi" I said quietly.

"I took the day off work to stay here and look after you. You didn't seem sick last night." He said, voice lacking emotion, eyes unable to hide it.

"I.....you......you took off work for me?"

"Yes. Yes I did. Is there anything I can do for you? Toriel brought you some soup." He pointed out, gesturing to the bowl of soup on the nightstand. I started scooting myself into seated position and Phil jumped to help, propping me up with pillows.

"Thank you" I said gratefully, cheeks turning slightly pink.

He coughed nervously and handed me the bowl and spoon. "Ahem. You're welcome."

(A/N: aaaaaaaaa oh my god this chapter is shorter than Dan's dick.

Almost.

The maid's name is Toriel lololololololololololololol *rolls away* goodbye, my beanibobs!)