Mafiatale - Living Life Among Crime [Frans]

Don't Lie [7]

"hey, you're gettin' better." Sans pointed out, being back at the headquarters several days later, being back to training Frisk. Right now, they were focusing on improving on how she handled guns, and in the last few days she had improved immensely. On the inside of his skull, Sans couldn't help but admit that he was impressed; before hand he had always seen Frisk as nothing but an annoying little interfering brat. But it seemed like with time she could prove herself useful.

Normally Chara might have been the one to be doing this training with Frisk, but considering she was too concerned with the injured Asriel, Asgore once again forced him to be the one to look after her, as if their fates always had to be strung together by others without his own free will. True, her company didn't annoy him as much as it had on day one, when it felt like he was nothing more but a babysitter, having no choice but to deal with any mess Frisk caused. But like he had earlier admitted to himself, she wasn't as incompetent as he thought she was. She had brains. Brains that she likely must have used to use for other things besides shooting guns.

"I'm glad you think so." Frisk answered, seeming to lower the gun in her hands as a way to say that was likely enough for one day. The skeleton simply took the gun away from her grasp, which she had to admit caused her more relief than anything. She may have been getting better at handling a gun - that didn't mean she was any happier with using it. Sans seemed to notice how relieved she appeared, because he ended up making another comment which she didn't want to agree with.

"don't worry, kid. you'll get used to usin' one eventually." Sans told her, which caused her to shake her head in denial. She didn't want to become used to using something in which to murder another living, breathing, thinking being. Even just the thought of doing that made her already start to feel sick to her stomach. How did he do this kind of thing all the time? Did he just justify it somehow? Like he felt like he was doing a good thing by ridding the world of disgusting people? Disgusting people or not, they were still alive like they were, and Frisk didn't want to have to be the one to take their lives away at her own hand. 

"I don't want to get used to it." She mumbled, as they went to leave the training room. The skeleton couldn't help but roll his eyes at her attitude. It was the same with any new beginner, they didn't really have the guts - no pun intended - to carry out such a thing. However, it then became part of life, you had to use it to defend yourself. Either it was saving your own life, one that was likely worth saving, over getting killed by despicable scum of the Earth. 

"well it's up to ya. one day you'll likely be put in a situation where you'll have to use it. and it's up to ya whether or not ya wanna pull the trigger." Sans told her, getting no answer as she simply gulped at the idea. He exhaled. "look, i can't blame ya for bein' nervous. i... i was  too when i was in your situation." Sans admitted, which shocked Frisk to her core. The fact that Sans might have been an on edge person like she was now at the idea of using weapons, when now he just shrugged his shoulders and acted like he didn't care... There was probably so much about him that she didn't know. But perhaps with each passing day, they'd get to know each other a tiny bit better.

Anyway, the pair decided to head to the elevator, as Sans suggested it would be a good idea to visit Grillby's to maybe take Frisk's mind off of the whole idea, to take some of the edge off. Grillby was actually a good friend of Sans', so he mentioned. And considering Frisk still didn't really know anyone else in the Mafia headquarters, she was stuck tailing Sans. Truthfully, she had wanted to get to know Chara and Asriel, but ever since the incident Chara had been unsocial. So, she couldn't really talk to her. 

After a silent and uncomfortable elevator ride, the two stepped out to be confronted by the familiar sight of Grillby's bar, with a few monsters scattered sitting around here and there. The flame monster was standing at his usual spot behind the bar, saying goodbye to some customer that appeared to be leaving. Upon noticing the skeleton and the human's arrival, Grillby gave them a small wave. 

Sans waved in return, before motioning to Frisk to sit on one of the stools at the bar beside him. "The usual, is it, Sans?" Grillby wondered, before earning a nod from Sans. Frisk wondered what kind of beverage Sans might have normally enjoyed, and to her surprise it was something she definitely was not expecting. Simply just a bottle of ketchup. She scrunched her nose up at the thought of just drinking ketchup on its own, but then she didn't want to seem like she was judging, so she instantly fixed up her expression with a more neutral one. 

"What about you...?" The monster made of fire spoke towards Frisk, who thought for a moment and she shook her head, not really wanting anything. She wasn't really one to drink alcohol, even now if she had the opportunity to drink it. 

"how ya doin' by the way, grillby? it's probably been awhile since i've actually sat down here and took the time to chat." Sans spoke. Grillby nodded, and Frisk watched the conversation with interest. These two must have been old time friends, as they were talking as if they had known each other for awhile. 

"Yes, it has. A couple of months, perhaps?" Grillby mumbled. "Can you excuse me for a moment, I have to take out the trash." And with that, he was gone.

"He doesn't seem to talk very much." Frisk pointed out. Sans nodded, taking a gulp of his ketchup before he sighed. There was a short silent pause, until Sans finally decided to explain why. 

"yeah, uh... he did used to be more social... until... well, the incident." Sans muttered. 

"Incident?" Frisk repeated, wanting him to elaborate more seeing as he was being extremely vague. 

"when gaster was taken. the two were good friends, and he just misses him i guess... we all do..." Sans frowned, seeming to fall quiet. Frisk noticed this, and couldn't help but now feel guilty for bringing it up completely by accident. It was clear that Sans missed his father and really wanted to find him. If he wasn't... Dead. 

"I'm sorry." Frisk said, catching Sans completely off guard. "I know the whole thing with your dad is probably a sensitive subject for you, and Grillby, and maybe everyone... I'll try not to bring it up again."

"i'm fine, frisk. ya don't need to go and apologise, i ain't gettin' upse--" 

"Don't lie." Frisk interrupted him, looking right at him with a frown. "He's your own dad. Of course you would get upset if he went missing. He would feel lost if the same happened to you, you know? So don't act like you're perfectly fine with something when clearly you aren't. It's okay to be sad about something, Sans. You don't need to act like you're so tough all the time when there's no need." Frisk ranted on, making Sans lost for words at everything she was saying. He never really heard someone say that to him before. Probably because no one ever noticed how down he was about losing his dad, he pretended and acted as if he was okay. And sometimes the idea of getting him back and plotting revenge against the bastards that took him was the only thing that stopped him from breaking down and going loopy. 

For a while, it was silent again. Uncomfortably silent. Well, until Sans said something that Frisk hadn't been expecting, but it did make her smile.

"...thanks..." Sans quietly said under his breath. 

"It's no problem, Sans."