Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Content Warning for Chapters 39 and 40 include:

Violence and some strong language.

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Third Person POV

Sans's Perspective

Sans wakes up to an empty bed and a teary-eyed Faust tugging persistently at the sleeve of his shirt, both posture and gaze flooded with concern. He places a hand on the space left next to him, (Y/N)’s warmth far gone from the fabric of the bedsheets, even with the air conditioner now turned off. He follows the child out of the bedroom and tenses up at the sight of the human’s shoes gone from the welcome mat of the living room. The belongings they usually carried are gone simultaneously, and he doesn’t hear their phone neither ring or buzz when he calls their number.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Sans asks, rubbing the sleep away from his eye sockets. 

“(Mom/Dad) said they were gonna go check the mailbox, but it’s been almost two hours already. I- I tried calling them with the hotel’s telephone. . . But they didn’t pick up.”

“How many times you’ve called already?”

“F- Four,” Faust stutters, looking down at his shoes. Sans can see tears running down his cheeks, those of which he tries to wipe with the aid of his shirt.

“Calm down, kiddo,” Sans speaks up, placing a hand on top of Faust’s head. He ruffles his hair and makes him laugh by poking at the ticklish spot under his armpit, dreary expression growing less severe. “They’re, uh. . . probably just caught up with somethin’. I’m sure they’ll be back, so let’s get you ready for school, alright? We can head there together.” As if just realizing it was still a Friday, Sans looks at the time on his phone to see it’s only thirty five minutes until his work shift began and the same amount for Faust to start his classes. 

“I can do that!” the boy exclaims, excitement replacing the worry in his voice. “You- You should look for clothes in (mom/dad)’s room, though -- I. . . think they still have some clothes they were gonna give you as a gift or something.”

“Really?” A chuckle leaves the skeleton’s teeth when he hears that, the thought that (Y/N) still had him in mind that much for them to do something like that distracting him from their disappearance -- however briefly. “Gotcha. I’m gonna go check.”

Nodding, Faust zooms off to his room, footsteps light and clumsy with anxiety, yet determined to get there all the same. Sans is left to the empty and silent surroundings of the living room, a heavy, weighing feeling of uncertainty resting on the back of his mind when he starts making way back to the bedroom. He starts rummaging through the contents of the drawers when he gets there, the compact room helping him decide on which place to look for first. He opens up the first one, revealing nothing but files and documents varying from Faust’s custody case to the newspapers announcing the mayor’s decision. Unsurprised by the words written in the articles, he closes up the first drawer and continues with the second one, hand stopping completely when he pulls it open.

“Crap.”

Sans manages to censor himself when making the observation, the sight of (Y/N)’s phone cracked and turned to silent mode sending all the wrong vibes up his spine. Not quite comfortable with going through their phone, he hesitates when he chooses to grab and unlock it, although he doesn’t regret it when he sees eleven messages left unread, plus Faust's four missed calls, five from their neighbour, and three from their co-worker.

You think I’m done with you?

I’m barely just getting started.

The first sixteen messages are the oldest of the bunch, these already marked as read.