You Are My Sunshine (Undertale)

Preface: Sunlight

A/N Welcome to what will probably wreck your fucking life. I got the inspiration for this story from Flowerfall/Overgrowth so that alone should be enough of a warning. If you haven't checked out those stories go do it they will wreck you. 

Anyway, this art is not mine I got it from here: The owner/creator is MissAlmighty

http://missalmighty.deviantart.com/art/UT-Sans-and-Frisk-his-sky-578058336

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"Frisk, can I ask you something?" San's voice is a whisper, almost a prayer, and there's something vulnerable in it that worries Frisk.

'Of course' Frisk signs, preferring not to speak, even now, when it was just the two of them. 

"What does the sunshine feel like? I've been down here so many years, I can't remember." He laughs, but the sound is bitter and cold. 

"It's warm, like when you smile and your laugh echoes. Remember that time we went to the caves with the echo flowers and I made a pun and they just screamed it at one another until you laughed so hard you cried. It's warm like that." Frisk is speaking now, their voice soft and tender. They only ever speak when it's important, or they have a lot to say. "And it feels like home, like our room in our house in Snowdin. It feels like safety, like sinking into a warm bath. It warms you all the way down to your... bones." Frisk laughs, but the sound quickly turns to coughing, blood blossoming on their hands. "I don't miss the sun though, Sans. Not when I have you."

And Sans's eyes flash blue as he looks at Frisk, bony hands shaking as he struggles to control his anger. Frisk deserves so much better than this, than laying in a field of flowers a million miles under a mountain, rotting from the inside out. They deserve sunshine and fresh air and full lungs. Frisk looks beautiful though, even with a bloodstained chin and eyes rimmed with dark, accusatory bags. 

'Sick!' The dark circles seem to scream. 'Sick and dying and getting worse and you're just letting it happen, Sans. You're killing Frisk! Frisk is going to rot from the inside out and it's killing you because you can't do a single thing about it. It's all your fault Sans, you love them and they're dying and it's all your fault, all your fault, ALL YOUR FAULT-'

"Sans!" Frisk's voice breaks as they shake Sans, bringing him back to the moment at hand.

"What? Oh, sorry sweetheart. Here, let me get that." Sans wipes the blood from Frisk's chin tenderly, his bony hands trembling. "I got lost in my head for a moment, but don't worry. I'm here." He opens his arms and Frisk settles into them.

He holds them tightly in shaking arms. He's trying so hard, he's fighting every step to get them to the surface. To get Frisk to the surface. Because Frisk is dying. There isn't enough clean oxygen and there isn't any sunlight and the food isn't right. The light is fading from Frisk's eyes with each passing day and their tiny body shakes just with the effort to get out of bed. 

Getting to the surface is no longer an option, it's a necessity. Sans holds Frisk as tightly as he can, as if he can make them better if he only holds them tight enough. And god, he wishes he could wrap Frisk in his arms and take it all away. He would face a million resets and a million deaths if it meant Frisk would live. Frisk deserves to live more than anyone, especially Sans. Sans has done some terrible things in his long, long life and he isn't ashamed to admit it. But Frisk is sweet and joyful and so damn pure. If anyone ever deserved a life full of sunshine and starlight it's Frisk.

"You remind me of the sun," Frisk whispers, brokenly. "You remind me of the sun and when I'm with you I feel like anything is possible."

Frisk is walking the tightrope between consciousness and sleep at this point. Sans, having seen this before, knew sleep would win. Frisk sleeps more and more the closer they get to Asgore. Frisk gets weaker and weaker the farther into the Underground they get, but they can't turn around. Sometimes Sans wishes they would have stayed in Snowdin. It wasn't so bad there, Frisk was better there. Frisk was happy there. But it would have caught up with them eventually, they couldn't run from it forever. 

"You are my sun." Sans replies, pressing his forehead to Frisk's careful not to crush the flowers that adorn their clammy brow. "You are my sun and my moon and every single star in my sky, Frisk." He holds one of Frisk's hands gently in his own. "And I promise I will get you to the surface, we'll lay in the sunlight. Together, just you and me. We're going to watch the sunset, every day and we'll lay in the sunshine together and we'll spend our days warm and alive. We'll be so happy we won't know what to do. No more resets, no more death, no more fear or monsters or fighting or determination. Just you and me and a lifetime of peace." His voice is quiet and he can't keep it from shaking.  

Sans tries not to think about how bad off Frisk is, or how quickly they're breathing. He instead focuses on the hand woven flower crowns they both wear. He notices the smile on their beautiful, round face and the way their eyes catch the 'starlight' and shine a dozen different shades of warm brown when they sleepily open. He pushes away the thought that they're on the wrong side of glassy. He notices how well their hands fit in his and how easily and comfortably they snuggle against his bony body, almost like they belonged there. He notices how heavy their eyelids become and is soothed. Frisk needs to sleep more than he needs the comfort of their consciousness. You make sacrifices for the people you love. He would sacrifice everything to save Frisk. He will save Frisk. He has too. 

And when Frisk is finally asleep, curled up in his lap, he notices just how much he loves them. 

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A/N This is super short because it's just a preface. I really hope you enjoyed this c: