Mafiatale - Living Life Among Crime [Frans]

Not Friends [13]

"seriously, what is your sudden fuckin' problem?" Sans complained to Frisk while climbing back into the car. They had been dealing with Grillby and stayed with him for a good half hour. Some of that time was spent making sure he safely went to sleep; the last thing Sans wanted was anything happening to his pal, and his father's best friend. He'd get Gaster back, somehow. He had to still be alive. He had to be.

"It's nothing, Sans... I just... Lost my temper, that's all." Frisk sighed, appearing to feel less fierce than she had before. Just allowing her mind to wander had caused her mood to sour, it had somehow bothered her so much that Sans seemed to think so little of her when she saw him as a friend already. Maybe she was just wishing he'd show her that same respect. And maybe she felt that she had to be harsher if she was going to get him to stop walking over her like a doormat. "Actually, no, it is something."

"alright then, spill the beans. what's got ya in a huff?" Sans grumbled as he began to drive, keeping his eyes in front of him, while glancing towards Frisk every now and then as he awaited her answer. It was like all of a sudden she was waiting to burst with annoyance; he didn't really understand why. It's not like he had done anything for her to suddenly be giving him this attitude. 

"I'm sick of you treating me like a doormat." Frisk admitted with a frown, watching the skeleton carefully for any type of reaction. "All you ever seem to do is insult me. One minute you're nice to me and the next you're just treating me like dirt. It would be nice if you could be doing less of the second thing." She told him.

"well, what are ya expectin'? for us to be pals or somethin'? i already told ya that--" 

"Yeah, that you have to look after me because of the promise you made... Whatever." Frisk huffed, following her gaze to her own window, watching the scenery and other cars pass going the opposite way as they drove. Sans growled.

"so if ya know already, then don't feel the need to give me shit for it. we aren't friends, frisk. we're just two people who were fuckin' forced together, not really havin' much of a choice over it. if i could have, i kinda wish i killed you there that day, that way i wouldn't have to be dealin' with your bullshit, i wouldn't have to be forced to be stuck with ya because of asgore or toriel. i could just be by myself, with my own thoughts, with no one naggin' at me all the time! ya think ya mean somethin' to me just because i tell ya my own personal problems? i practically do that shit unintentionally because i just ramble and before ya know it i end up somehow tellin' ya too much. i never understand how or why, but it's not like i want to fuckin' talk to ya." He ranted, his grip tightening on the steering wheel the more and more he went on. The entire time, the human stared at him with disbelief and hurt at his words. 

Pathetic is a good word to describe how she felt. Any time that Sans seemed like he was being nicer, or talking to her about himself, she felt like maybe she might have been getting somewhere with him. That maybe he was starting to see her as more of a person, and not just some "stupid kid" that he could talk down to whenever he wanted. But she was wrong. Sans still hated her. He still thought she was the worst thing to ever happen to him. Thinking all of this, she turned away from Sans, facing towards her car door, and she began to quietly cry. 

Even if Frisk wanted to keep her sobs quiet, Sans could still hear them and he quietly exhaled to himself. Okay, maybe he had gone a little overboard on what he said there... That was the thing though, it's not like he was a nice guy. It's why he tended to keep himself distanced from most people, another reason why he kept himself distanced from his brother. He wasn't a good guy. Not anymore. If people tried to get close to him, they only hurt themselves, and he might get hurt too. He didn't need that when he had important things to focus on. When he had to get his dad back. Right now, that was all he cared about.

Now though, with how harsh he had been; with how hurt she sounded, he felt somewhat guilty. But was he going to point that out? No. Like he had said, perhaps it would be better to get Frisk to hate him, that way she wouldn't have to be around him anymore, he could be by himself again. Instead of apologising like he had originally thought of, he just stayed silent, allowing her to cry by herself. He wasn't a nice guy, hadn't been for a long time. 

When they had gotten back to the apartment, Frisk was the first to climb out of the car after snatching the keys off the dashboard and she dashed towards the apartment, going to head straight for Sans' door. Letting herself in, she proceeded to throw herself over onto the couch and she hugged her knees close as she cried. Sans' words really had bothered her. They really had bothered her a lot. Why did he not seem to feel one speck of guilt for the things he said? Instead he just allowed her to suffer because of him. He hurt her without a single care in the world. 

As time passed, Sans had chosen to stay in the car for a little longer, knowing he just would have been stuck in the apartment with a shaken up Frisk had he gone straight after her. He had already dealt with one emotional person this morning, he didn't want to have to deal with another. He couldn't believe it was almost 4:30am by the time he had gotten out the car. He was feeling really and utterly drained, almost like he hadn't had a single wink of sleep. 

However, he needed all the rest he could get. It seemed like the mission to get Gaster back would soon be a go, and he wanted to be part of trying to track down the bastard that Frisk had let get away the first time they had met. They'd find him, they'd find out where they were located, and when that time came and they were ready, they'd strike. He really wished that this  could have happened already, that they had already gotten his father back. But it just hadn't been possible. But soon it could be.

Getting up to his apartment, Sans opened the door to see Frisk passed out on the couch, fast asleep. Her usually somewhat rosy cheeks were stained with wet glistening tears, as she must have been crying for awhile. It might have been possible that she made herself pass out from exhaustion, stress and all the crying, rather than falling asleep out of her own free will. Noticing the blanket on the ground, Sans debated about whether or not to pick it up and place it on her. It took some time, but he decided to do it, gently placing the blanket upon her body as she slept. 

How the hell did she do that? One minute she made him want to scream and punch a hole through the wall, the next he was feeling bad for doing something terrible, or leaving her to freeze during the night. Maybe part of him wanted to do good, while the other part of him had decided that he was better off by himself. But only Frisk had seemed to get him to notice this, that he'd act one way or the other and he could never stick to just being completely mean like he wanted to. 

Dammit, he needed the extra sleep. After dealing with all of that so early in the morning, he knew he needed more rest.