Mafiatale - Living Life Among Crime [Frans]

No Going Back [39]

Trying to calculate the amount of relief Sans felt when he was actually able to get out of bed, (with some help from Frisk), it was difficult - because the amount of relief he felt was so great. Honestly, lying in that bed all day and all night for how many days it must have been, Sans really felt like he could have gone crazy. True, Frisk tried her best to keep him entertained as she stayed at his bedside. Andrew wasn't exactly in the room anymore - but he was getting kept a close eye on by Chara and Asriel. He hadn't exactly been given the permission to go home, but he looked glad that he hadn't been threatened or hurt once again. Sans didn't really trust the guy. Then again, he didn't exactly trust anyone.

But anyway, now Sans didn't feel like he was in absolute agony when trying to move his body by the tiniest bit. This meant that his soul must have been healing since what he had done to himself. Small little cracks would likely still be in his soul, they wouldn't ever completely disappear, but at least now he wasn't in pain. He would just have to continue taking it slow for awhile and he would be fine. When Asgore had heard that Sans was up and out of bed, he still told the skeleton to take time off work, which admittedly he hated. However, he didn't have the choice, so he begrudgingly agreed. 

This meant that for the next couple more days, he was going to have to try and live a more normal life, not working. Just the thought of it made him want to ball his hands up into fists with impatience. What the heck was he supposed to do with himself while he wasn't working? Yes, okay, perhaps he had become a bit of a workaholic since doing what he did. It was what he was used to; it paid a lot. Being away from all that, he didn't really know what else his life could consist of. It's not like there was anything fun to do.

Of course, during the time he was off work, Frisk insisted that perhaps he should try to spend some time with her and Andrew. Sans hated nothing more than to hang out with that dude, someone who he obviously was not on good terms with (for his own reasons). He didn't trust Frisk hanging out with him either - what if he tried something when Sans wasn't able to do anything about it? Right now in his current state, he couldn't exactly protect her from jack diddly squat. And breaking that promise he made really wasn't something he fancied.

Not having the choice though, he found himself dressed in his more casual clothing - a punny black shirt (as expected, which said the words "Call me butter, because I'm on a roll"), a dark blue hoodie on top, along with a long pair of dark black jeans and black sneakers. Sans couldn't really remember the last time he had been wearing something like this - his daily attire mostly consisted of ties, plain white shirts, etcetera. At least now he looked like he fit more into the casual area of society, rather than walking around like he was so ready for business. Of course, no one would find that odd - you saw people wearing that kind of stuff (suits and slacks) when just being part of an ordinary business.

Right now, Sans was stuck trailing behind the two talking teenagers, who appeared to be laughing and talking about something that must have been funny. Sans didn't really understand what it was that they found so amusing, he hadn't really been listening to the conversation, neither did he contribute a word. Simply, he just rolled his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere but third wheeling Andrew and Frisk. This was dumb, and really, really boring. It was times like this where Sans began to feel like he knew the true reason why Frisk trusted him and treated him like a nice guy. Because she was an idiot.

Around Andrew, she seemed way too trusting. Just because he seemed normal and okay, who was to say that he was? Hell, right now he would have gladly snarled at them about that fact, had he wanted to purposely cause a scene in public. Right now, that was something he wanted to avoid. He wasn't in the mood for people to stare and judge, like that time he had snapped at Chara. Trying to stay in the background and keep quiet was probably all he was going to try and do today.

Even when they were at the park, Sans was as silent as an animal trying to strike down on its prey, not saying a word. Every now and then, he did notice the side glances that Frisk appeared to be giving him - almost like that of a curious cat. To him, it appeared as if she had something on her mind, or maybe she wanted him to talk. However, he wouldn't give into the peer pressure of someone wanting him to talk. No matter how much Frisk's eyes might have pleaded him to.

Frowning, Frisk couldn't help but let out a breath when Sans continued to be silent. She was hoping this day could be a way for all three of them to get to know each other a bit more, considering Sans wasn't able to work and she wanted to be able to spend time with him while he wasn't. Not to mention... She was thinking of telling Sans how she felt today. Her heart felt like it was practically going to do a back flip with just that thought alone. Not to mention her cheeks started to burn from embarrassment at her thoughts. She just hoped that Andrew wouldn't get the wrong idea when talking to her. To her luck, he didn't seem to notice.

They did have to go back to the headquarters at some point though, to drop Andrew off. They still hadn't really decided what they were going to do with him, but Frisk had been wanting to talk with Toriel, and she agreed that he should be allowed to go home. Supervision would probably be needed, just in case. But the goat woman did not approve of the killing of such an innocent, kind boy. She knew that he meant no harm. 

"well, ya two seemed like ya had a bunch of fun today." Sans rose an eyebrow at her, as they were just exiting their way out of the alley, to get to Sans' car. Frisk didn't understand what he had meant by that, but when he clarified, it made more sense. "i noticed ya were blushin' earlier today when talkin' to him. seems to me like someone has got them self a bit of a crush with the guy who is kinda supposed to be our prisoner, not someone you're supposed  to fall in love with. or do ya just have a thing for bad people?" Sans mocked. 

"Sans... Really? It's not the way you think. I don't have feelings for Andrew. And you know that Andrew isn't an evil person. His brother James is the one who was part of that group that kidnapped your father. Can't you try to trust him at least a little bit?" She asked. When she got no answer, and instead the silent treatment as they just reached his car, she continued. "Besides, I wasn't blushing because of him. It was because of... Something else." 

"oh?" Sans was about to open the door to let her get in the car, before he closed it and turned towards her, wondering just what exactly she had to say. "well, come on, spit it out. ya might as well just say what is up, now that you've mentioned it." He grumbled with that signature roll of the eyes. Nervously, Frisk bit down on her bottom lip, wondering what she could even possibly say. Again, her cheeks began to burn furiously. Blush was slowly starting to cover her face as if she was beginning to turn red like a tomato. It also didn't help that she could hear her heart hammering in her own ears, and she felt the adrenaline rushing through her. Man, was confessing to a crush always this nerve wracking? But she knew she had to tell him the truth. She had wanted to anyway, before her feelings bloomed way, way too much. Otherwise it would only hurt even more if he said no. (Even though it was likely to feel like a stab in the heart if she was rejected anyway).

"I was blushing... Because of you." Frisk spoke out loud.

There was no going back now.