... Home.

You swallowed, turning the door handle as slowly as possible, trying not to make a sound. Maybe, if you ran straight up the stairs, you could get into your room before...

- SLAM -

"Y/N!" It was your mother, in the living room. Your entire body became a solid block of ice as the sound of her footsteps storming toward you became indistinguishable from the loud pounding of your heart in your ears, and you had no idea how to react, what to do, what to say ...

... Too late.

Her furious face was in front of you, and then you were suddenly facing another direction. Your cheek burning , and ears ringing, violently.

...She hit you.

... You stood still, not moving, not speaking. At first, your mother's screaming tirade was so deafening and the slap had left you so disoriented that you didn't even hear the first part of it. It was just noise .

"... DARE you bring a FREAK into our house!?" She rioted. "Your father had to get serious medical attention! He's in the HOSPITAL with multiple broken bones because of your FREAK friend!"

"... He's not a freak."

...

It slipped out before you could stop it. Like standing up to your father, it just... came out.

You couldn't help yourself from defending him, like he usually defended you when it was needed.

Except, this time, you had no Sans to protect you.

"..."

Her momentary stunned silence spoke volumes.

"... And now." It was deceptively soft, and paper thin, so vicious you couldn't even look at her. "You're back-talking me?"

Shit.

You swallowed. "... I-I... I'm sorry."

"How DARE you!?" Her voice increased, tension snapping. You flinched back but her hand caught your face again, this time on the other side, so hard that tears sprung to your eyes. You clutched your cheek, hard.

You couldn't breathe.

"I don't fucking know how your father put up with you for all this time! That's IT!" There was a horrible decisive finality to her tone and a crazed look in her eyes. "I've had ENOUGH of YOU!"

"I-I'm sorry!"

She scowled. "You have twenty minutes to pack. Your. Things."

...

"... W... what?"

She couldn't mean...?

"PACK YOUR SHIT!"

She couldn't be serious...!

"Why!?" You exclaimed, starting to get hysterical. She didn't actually mean you had to LEAVE, right!?

"Why do you THINK!?" She shrieked, waving her arms. ""You brought an uninvited FREAK into our house, who then PUNCHED YOUR FATHER. And then? You fucking BACKTALK ME! I've HAD IT with your shitty, ungrateful and destructive attitude!"

"... Y-you can't do that!" You were definitely hysterical now. You could feel the tears building.

"I think you'll find I absolutely can." So cold.

You shook your head, stammering. "Where am I supposed to go!?"

"Go to your monster freak." She hissed, venomously.

... You snapped a little bit more, and turned on her, anger boiling inside you as your situation became more clear. Your own mother was going to throw you to the streets, to your stalker and she didn't even feel an ounce of guilt. "HE'S NOT A FREAK!"

She slammed the wall next to her with the side of her fist, so furious her face tinged red.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

You sobbed and turned, running, flying up the stairs and to your room, the door slamming shut behind you as you tore open your closet and started throwing in as much as you could haphazardly. Your mind was racing too fast for anything to catch up, the situation crashing down, everything swirling and going wrong.

You were getting kicked out!

Of your house!

"YOU NOW HAVE TEN MINUTES TO PACK BECAUSE OF THAT COMMENT!" She yelled, up the stairs, and you quivered with rage.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!" You screamed, knowing it would make the situation worse, but being unable to stop yourself as you saw red.

... Her footsteps started up the stairs, so fast. It felt like an approaching elephant that was going to trample you, or a knife-wielding murderer.

Your brain was racing so fast.

You couldn't think... couldn't breathe.

...Sans.

...

He'd have been following you, wouldn't he?

"... S-SANS!" You cried out in fear, praying that the one time you needed him to be here, that he would be.

...And just like that, familiar, safe arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to security, a welcome smell and gentle hum all you needed to confirm it was him.

Right now, you were so hysterical and desperate for help that you latched yourself around him without hesitation, forgetting all previous... events , clinging so hard your knuckles hurt, sobbing into his jacket. Something inside your chest was telling you that right now, nothing mattered, except being safe.

And Sans was safe.

... He picked you up like a baby, one hand under your thighs, your legs wrapped around his torso, and you gratefully snuggled into his shoulder to ignore the sound of your manic mother slamming on the door that suddenly mysteriously held much, much firmer than it usually did.

"I-I hate you!" You sobbed at Sans, but still clung on.

"i'm sorry." He said, voice careful. He was zipping up a bag- ah. He was packing your stuff for you.

"W-why didn't you just stay upstairs like I t-told you!?!"

"i couldn't let them hurt you."

You kicked your legs. "Y-you made it WORSE!"

You were getting thrown out of your house because of HIM!

"i'm sorry."

You wanted to keep shouting and yelling at him, to tell him that this was all his fault, but all that could come out of your mouth was more broken crying. So you listened to the tiny voice in your chest instead and cuddled harder against him, like if you pressed close enough you could just... completely vanish from this world.

"... it'll be okay in the end." He cooed. "all of this will just be a bad memory."

There was suddenly a soft meowing sound, coming from somewhere in the room.

...

... Y-your cat! You couldn't leave without your cat! "...F-Fluffy!"

"... sure. she's hiding in the closet."

You wriggled, a silent way of asking to be put down, and he obliged, gently. You ran across the room to the closet and opened it, sure enough finding your elusive, and slightly terrified cat.

... You picked her up, snuggling her and sniffling, enjoying the soft feeling of her fur on your tear-stained face.

...

It... didn't feel as safe as Sans cuddling you. So you went over, clinging to him again, grateful for his arm immediately going around your shoulders.

... You were really glad you called for him.

"I-I don't know what to do."

Suddenly, you were in his room again... the sound of your mother slamming on the door vanished, all the sounds vanished, and you were momentarily disoriented, stepping away from him.

You flinched a bit as you took in your surroundings, taken aback by the sudden teleportation. You didn't understand why he had taken you here of all places, especially not with the memories you had associated with this room. You would have been better off being teleported into the middle of traffic.

"...you can live here, now." You heard him whisper, as he looked down at you, his stare piercing the top of your head.

"Fuck no." You replied instantly, knowing there was no way in hell that you were ever going to live with him. He was a manipulative asshole who used you to get what he wanted, regardless of how it made you feel in the end.

You all but hated him at this point.

"why not?" He asked you, sounding genuinely confused. As if you had literally no reason not to live with your stalker.

"You're fucking creepy." You told him, at this point deciding if he wasn't gonna care about your feelings, then why should you be caring about his?

"i won't be able to stalk you if you live in the same house as me." He pointed out, tucking some hair out of your face. You responded by backing away from him.

"No, but you could rape me and take more creepy fucking pictures of me." You pointed out, right back, hoping you didn't just give him any more ideas. It was a genuine fear you had always had in the back of your mind, that he would rape you one day, and you would never know, because he's a fucking genius and you would never be able to stop him.

...He was sick.

You put Fluffy down on the ground and watched as she walked over to the bed, before jumping up on it and laying down. You then turned back to face Sans, and were a bit taken back by the look on his face. He looked scarily serious, and even slightly pissed off.

"y/n," he started, using your full real name, his voice almost cold, "i'd never do that to you. ever. i swear on my love for you."

...You found that kind of off putting, since you had been questioning his love, lately.

"I never thought you would make me suck your dick, either, so. Guess your love ain't that deep." You shot back, knowing you might have been going a bit too far. Of course he loved you, in his own, creepy way... he just saved you from your psychotic mother, and he had always taken care of you when you had been afraid, so... questioning his love might have been a bit much.

You felt a bit of regret when you saw the hurt on his face for a mere second, before he quickly wiped it off and replaced it with his usual smile.

"swear on papyrus's life, then. and, speaking of paps- he doesn't really approve of the whole 'stalker' thing. being here with him to keep me in check is actually better than you being anywhere else." He tried to persuade you, his hopefulness returning as he spoke to you, never breaking eye contact, so you had to do it yourself.

He wanted this so bad.

...But you wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for him. He literally just ruined everything you had... picked it up, and crushed it in his fist, and then tried to capture you. You wouldn't be surprised if he even fucking drugged your water, or felt you up when he thought you were passed out.

You didn't trust him.

You didn't want this.

You wished you could go back in time, to before he ever came over, and said no, and...

"I wish I had never even met you."

... You looked up to meet his gaze after saying that, but...

... He wasn't there, anymore.

You took a moment to process what had just happened, and when you did, you just started to cry softly, a pang of regret blooming in your chest. You were homeless now... and it was Sans's fault. He made it so your family hated you even more than they already did, to the point that you were literally disowned. Now all you had was him. Sans was the only person you had now, and you were going to have to rely on your obsessive stalker to take care of you.

...You were so fucked.

You crawled up on to his big bed, and lied down next to fluffy before pulling the covers up over you and curling up in a tiny ball.

You needed to cry this out.

...

...You didn't mean it.

His grip on the cold sink tightened.

There was no way you meant it. You were just upset. You didn't wish that. You were his girlfriend, now... you...

You... you were just angry. You had every right in the world to be upset, especially since it... was his fault.

He didn't mean it.

He just wanted to keep you safe.

He just needed to get control over himself, again. Last time he lost control he ended up making you do something you hated. He needed to relax himself, and he needed to realize that you were still his, and you were still here . You didn't mean the mean things you had said to him. You were upset, and he didn't blame you for hating him in the moment.

As long as you didn't hate him forever.

He tried to focus on the positives as he stood in the bathroom, staring into the mirror... now you were here, in his home, which would soon become your home, too. He knew that you said you didn't want to, but... it was either that or sleeping on the street, and there was no way in hell he was letting you do that.

You were going to stay here, in his house... and he was going to keep you safe, without having to watch you through a window any longer.

He always had these visions in his mind, of you both waking up on a Sunday morning and making breakfast together, with a baby in a high chair...

...They were just dreams, though. And he was pretty sure at this rate he would never get to fulfill his dreams.

But like hell, if he wasn't going to try.

...He took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on his face before turning the faucet off and exiting the bathroom.

You didn't hate him.

It was just anger.

You were fine.

You were both fine.

He walked back into his bedroom, and closed the door before looking over at you.

You were curled up into a little ball on his bed, bawling your eyes out, as you clung to his bedsheets.

...It broke his nonexistent heart.

He slid in next to you, there still being plenty of room on the big bed, and carefully got closer, as to not upset you by being too close, too soon. He was a bit shocked when you suddenly reached out and clung to him, but... he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, before lying down properly on the bed.

"...Y-You ruined everything!" You exclaimed suddenly, weakly punching his ribcage out of anger and sadness. You were so distressed over this entire situation, and he found it completely unfair that you had to be birthed by such terrible parents. You deserved so much better, and it was a blessing that you turned out so perfect while being raised by such scum.

"i know." Was all he could say, as he very gently ran his phalanges through your hair. It was soft, and clean, and smelled so nice.

You were an angel.

... You cried yourself to sleep, clinging to his shirt, clinging so tight . He wanted to feel bad, he wanted to keep pitying... but there was just something so satisfying about the way you cuddled up to him that he couldn't help but feel so good , deep in his soul.

It was like... when a scared kitten does something adorable, like... hiding under your chin for comfort. All you can do is coo and practically melt over how cute it is. You don't really... feel that bad for the kitten being scared in the first place.

Yeah, yeah, that was bad. He knew that. But... right now, he didn't care about anything that wasn't you.

And hey. You cried yourself to sleep a lot at home- at least this time you were in a big, comfortable bed, and this time he could sleep as well, without feeling uneasy because he couldn't see you, now having his arms around you.

He preferred this.

...

...

Sans woke up to being punched in the face.

He immediately sat up, holding his cheekbone, as he felt rage build up in his chest- what the fuck? What happened? Who hit him!?

...

He turned, ready to punch somebody back, and saw you sitting up next to him, staring at him with a... look that he couldn't seem to place anywhere. It was intense, but... not full of hate. Not full of love, either, but he'd have to wait for that.

...

Oh. OH! You hit him. He rubbed the area... fuck. Wasn't expecting you to be able to swing so hard. For some reason, he kinda expected your punches to be really weak.

"... jesus christ, you can punch." He rubbed it again. It was aching.

...

Then you hugged him.

... Well. Okay. Getting some mixed signals, but he didn't really mind. He gratefully hugged back, relaxing. Maybe... you were having some conflicting morning emotions.

"... I'm thirsty." You mumbled, against his shirt.

"... c'mon. i'll take you downstairs."

You nodded, silently, and got yourself out of bed, going over to the door, your little feet pattering against the carpet and hips swaying very... pleasingly as you moved. He'd never be able to get over the surge of satisfaction he got from that.

"once you've had something to drink i'll give you the tour." Of your new home. Mmm... speaking of things that were satisfying to him...

"Okay." You responded, and he led you through the door and down two large flights of stairs to the kitchen.

His house was large, definitely. Pros of having Gaster as a father- he was the royal scientist, and his paycheck was... generous, to say the least. The house was white, cleanly, with large windows and expensive paintings on the walls, suited all to G's tastes.

Personally, Sans hated the uptight, overly clean, glaringly white decor. He much preferred warm colours and items strewn about, like someone actually lived there, but everything that was put on the floor would be immediately cleaned up anyway.

"... Why are you so rich?" You asked, behind him, as he headed over to the giant, sparkling marble kitchen counter and turned on the tap to run you a glass of water. The only sign that this kitchen was home to anyone and not just robots were some bright, shaped pieces of glass hanging in front of the window so the light passed through them and caught their colour, sending the red, blue and yellow pattern onto the floor (and at this moment, his face). It was something Papyrus had made in a craft class, and Gaster liked it so much he allowed it to be up by the window.

... Sans was careful to make his movements deliberate as he poured the water, so you could see he wasn't going to drug and rape you.

As much as the thought... wasn't entirely unpleasant for him to think about.

But that was a line he couldn't afford to cross.

"dad's the royal scientist." He headed over to the kitchen island, another white marble surface, that you were leaning on, and pushed the glass of water across the surface toward you, where you picked it up and stared at him.

... You froze.

"... Wait, what?"

"mhm."

"He's what?"

"the royal scientist."

"..." You blinked.

"gaster."

... Your eyebrows went up, and you looked around the room again, as if seeing it for the first time. And then...

You did the same to him. You looked at him like you were meeting him for the first time.

"... Wow."

He could almost see the thought process going through your head- Didn't expect the royal scientist's son to be a stalking pervert.

"he's never around anway." Sans said, actually sitting down at one of the stools positioned up against the island, waiting for you to finish.

"...I feel like shit." You admitted to him, as you finally took a sip of your water.

A look of pity ran across his face when you said that, and in the most gentle voice you were sure he could ever muster, he spoke. "...hey. i'll give you the tour now."