Transmission, Intermission - [Sans x Reader | Old Version!]

9 - Mother, you had me at quinoa

Alternate Chapter Title:

Hey, mami (the sequel)

• • •

"Where are you going?"

Frisk's voice takes you by surprise. The lipstick in your hand ends up on the counter when you turn around and try to cover up the rest of the items left displayed. Between makeup and perfume, you're certain it's going to be hard explaining why you're dressing up so much on a day off. "I'm going grocery shopping." Your words are blurted, not wanting to be caught in a lie. "And then I'm going to meet up with a friend."

"Is it a date?"

Their bluntness makes you delay on a response. You gulp and breathe in, mind searching for an answer. "No," you say, guilty. "We'll just be hanging out."

Giving up, Frisk closes their mouth and signs their next question, appearing more confident when they do so, "Is it Sans?"

You try not to let your gaze widen, feeling your heart already thumping. "...How do you know?"

"You admitted it right now," they exclaim, pointing a finger at you. "You're just like him!" An angry look crosses their face and their arms lock with each other. They pout and huff, eyes being glossed by tears as some stain their face. "What… What are you trying to hide? You're always keeping things secret from me!"

"I'm not hiding anything, dear." You scrunch your nose and bring a hand to your forehead, tension eating you up. Then, you sit next to Frisk in bed and grab them by the shoulders when you continue, "He just invited me over to his place for some dinner. I don't even see him as a friend, so I… I really don't think him as my boyfriend would be any closer, either." You take another breath, preparing yourself to keep going. "I mean it when I say we're just going to hang out." When you see Frisk keep quiet, you hold their shoulders tighter, getting them to face you. "Are you worried over me? Sans, he… He told me about what you were feeling guilty over."

They freeze under your touch. A faint, concerned frown displays itself on their mouth, one they try to fight off. "What did he say?"

Their voice is too quiet for your liking, warning over them being close to tearing up. You pass a hand through their hair and brush their bangs off their face. From there, you press a quick kiss to their forehead, allowing them to relax for a moment. "He said you felt guilty about dad leaving, and that it was one of the reasons why you ran away before falling to the Underground." Frisk holds you stronger, shivers, and presses their face against your chest, remaining there while you talk. "He also said you still felt guilty over last time you ran away, and that you felt bad about those calls I was getting from your dad before he came to visit Toriel's last week." You let go of Frisk, wanting them to face you. "You shouldn't feel guilty, dear," you add, placing a hand on their head. "Jerry left when you were just a baby, and in the end, it was a choice we both agreed on."

"But why did you agree?"

You don't want to answer, though judging by how close they are to crying, you taut your shoulders, brace yourself, and check the time. 

5:30 p.m.

Sans would be arriving in half an hour, and while you were already dressed up and ready to leave, your current situation makes you wish for him to be here already. You sniffle and try not to let the situation get to you. Wearing mascara helps with that. "Your dad..." You stall for time, far from ready to be direct with Frisk over what happened after their birth. "He said he didn't feel responsible enough to look after you, so he left the day after you were born." A headache makes you stop for a second. Tension weighs down on your shoulders, and you can feel your hands grow sweaty, a product of anxiety. "But he still came to visit twice every week until you were three. He just… wasn't ready to become a father."