"Heeey, y/n?"

...

You looked up from your desk.

... Chad?

Classes had been going relatively smoothly today... Not that you'd say that out loud and jinx anything. Most of the day had just been quiet... you looking out the window and thinking as the time went by, your mind more often than not drifting to Sans...

Normal lessons, normal syllabuses, nothing strange... no encounters with bullies, no issues with people trying to make your life miserable... in fact, all the people involved in the little chair skirmish the other day seemed to have completely blanked you. It was great.

...

But... here was Chad. A senior who shouldn't even technically be in the room right now.

You were in class and the teacher had yet to arrive, probably delayed by something dumb. A kid had already made the 15 minute meme so you knew you had a little time to relax...

...

Except...

... Apparently not.

You looked up at the handsome boy in front of you who was looming over your desk, the smile on his face equally as un-handsome. And then you looked down... at the three ten dollar bills he had just placed on your desk.

... Your eyes travelled between the bills, and Chad's fucking face, and the people around you, all staring. You felt cornered, and nervous, your hands balling into fists under the desk.

... Sans would stop him if he were here...

"... What?" You managed to force out, sweat already beading on your head.

"... Well..." He drew out the 'L', looking around at the rest of the room, before zeroing in back on you, like a lion casting a shadow over a corpse. "... Figured if it worked for Sans, it'd work for me."

... You felt like this was a trick question. But you still bristled at him talking about Sans.

"... What worked for Sans?" You asked, carefully, defensive. Why are you even in here? You're a senior?

"You fucking him."

...

...

The class was quiet for all of three seconds, before suddenly breaking out into hurried whispers, hushed tones, rustling clothes and creaking chairs as people leant over to gossip with their friends about what they just heard. You could already hear them.

"Oh my God, is that true?" "Holy shit... her and Sans?" "Like... THAT Sans?" "With HER?"

"... Excuse me?!" Was all you could choke out, eyes wide, heart in your throat at suddenly being thrown into the deep end. Your fingers were starting to shake a little...

"He's paying you, right?" Chad smiled, perfect eyebrows rising.

"No!" You snapped, unable to come up with anything else on the fly.

"Well," Chad cooed, sickly sweet, holding up one hand in a gesture of confusion. "Why else would he hang around you so much?"

...

You stood up from your chair, legs shaking too. You were surprised they didn't give out- Chad was just surprised you stood up. And the hushed whispers around you became even more excited and chattery, like birds being disturbed, as your sudden, uncharacteristic act of standing up became apparent.

...

Eyes burning, tongue heavy, and face undoubtedly an embarrassing red judging by how hard it was burning, you took the money on the desk and threw it right in his face.

... Most of them didn't even reach him, the light pieces of paper picking up in air currents and spinning around themselves to land on the floor or slide away, but one or two got him in the face.

Before the loud 'oohs' of the class could even really hit your ears you ran past him and stormed out, slamming the classroom door behind you.

You marched through the corridors with your head down, passing people and avoiding eye contact- your eyes were burning so hard now and you had to blink to keep your face dry, legs subconsciously carrying you all the way to your locker.

You didn't even understand why Chad had done that. Usually he just... didn't pay any attention to you... like everyone else. You gripped your arms, shaking, scared, humiliated to be basically called a whore in front of the entire class. No one cared. Everyone just wanted to laugh...

...

Except Sans. Your mind supplied.

...

The image of his face in your mind's eye was enough to make you stop shaking... just a little.

...

Footsteps.

You glanced up, expecting to see just another person walking by, someone late for class or heading to get a book or get a drink or go for a toilet break-

...

Melanie!?

You did a double take but there she was, the queen bee of the school, approaching you with a small group following behind like obsessed paparazzi. You could see why, in the flesh, so many people adored her- the curve of her waist, her swaying hips, her shiny, soft locks framing her face like a model, her breasts pressing against her shirt, her skirt that was definitely a violation of the school's dress code but she still got away with anyway clinging tightly to her legs.

Except, when you looked up, you could see the cold in her eyes and the snake behind the perfect image, waiting to pounce. The beauty of the painting itself sweetly disguising the toxicity of the paint.

It probably spoke volumes that you could immediately sense vitriol in a person.

...

Your mouth was glued shut as she stopped in front of you, looking down at you with a fierce glint in her eyes, but a soft, deceivingly friendly smile on her face.

You felt like such a slob, in your floppy, oversized sweater, skinny legs not helped by the cheap fabric of your leggings, feet swallowed in clumpy outdoor boots, compared to her designer shirt and perfectly fitted skirt, dainty feet in sweet, expensive shoes. You also became overwhelmingly aware of how unwashed you must seem...

If Sans was a God, he was a benevolent one. A God of Autumn. He used his powers and charm for good in school...

Melanie was not a forgiving Goddess. She was like ice- looks pretty and sweet from a distance but once it has you it will kill you. She had all the charm and looks of Sans...

... But none of the warmth.

"Hi y/n~" She cooed, breaking you out of your spell, her tone much similar to the one Chad used, smile splitting wider as she looked down at you. "How aaare you?"

"What do you want?" You said, not up for bullshit, rathering to face the storm head-on than to dance around it, voice almost breaking as you tried your hardest to maintain eye contact with her.

... And just like that, like a penny dropping or a curtain falling, the smile vanished, cold eyes the only thing left on her face.

"Stop hanging out with Sans." She said, harsh, toneless, icy.

Don't lose your nerve. You told yourself. You can't lose your nerve. "Excuse me?"

"You're ruining his whole reputation."

"Didn't know you were his keeper."

HOLY SHIT. Where did that come from!? Your eyes opened a tiny bit and even Melanie seemed taken aback, blinking in confusion. You were so surprised that it came out of your mouth that you almost froze up completely. How did you spit that out!?

...

You couldn't hold eye contact with her any more, especially after that. Your nerves were completely shot and your heart was slamming against your ribs to escape, throat tight, sweat cold on the back of your neck. You just turned to your locker and opened it, intending to-

-SLAM!-

Melanie slammed your locker shut, almost catching your fingers, so hard the rest of the lockets wobbled upon impact. Startled, you whirled around to her, voice shrill and loud.

"Can you not be a bitch for once in your life!?"

...

...

...

Melanie started to cry.

She started with a little anime sniffle, and then just like that, her shoulders were shaking with fake emotion, face scrunching up.

Just at that moment, Chad emerged, apparently having finally heard from someone that something was going on. A whole group of people had started to congregate now, watching the scene unfold- and how Melanie had turned away from you yelling at her, tears on her cheeks.

...

You immediately pulled your phone out as Chad went to hug Melanie, her fake cries muffled against his chest, texting the only contact on your phone.

You: Come to my locker

... He was there, right beside, you, prescense enough to let your mind finally relax, before the little tick by the text even appeared to register that he'd seen the message, a pen still in his skeletal hand which he quickly tucked into his pocket.

You looked up at Sans, and he looked down at you, raising a brow bone.

You were so happy to see his dumb skeleton face.

The crowd around you murmured at Sans's arrival, apparently shocked to see the Big Three in one place and on opposite sides... You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him what was going on, but Melanie cut over you, her sweet voice slathered with sadness to the point of ridiculousness.

"Sh-she called me a bitch!" She whimpered, into Chad's hoodie. Chad was seemingly enjoying being the Big Tough Guy that the Girl Relies On, holding Melanie protectively, glaring at you.

...

But suddenly, with Sans next to you, you weren't afraid anymore.

"She told me to stop hanging out with you." You said, looking up at him, and those big sockets. "Then slammed my locker shut."

"... yeah, i think she's a bitch too." Sans said, an arm you hadn't even noticed sneaking around suddenly catching you by the opposite shoulder and pulling you against his chest.

/

The thing about you was that you absolutely hated confrontation. This exact scenario you were in had everything you hated. You against other people, having to confront them about something they did to harm you, and to make the situation worse, you knew they weren't going to own up to it, and you knew they weren't going to ever apologize or feel bad.

So really, what was the point? To just cause more drama and draw more attention to it?

It seemed pointless.

A waste of time.

You turned around in Sans's arms, and clung to him, wanting to let him deal with it. Wanting to forget about all the pain and humiliation, and let somebody else take over for a change. You were tired now, and you didn't wanna deal with it.

"...She also started a rumor. Said you're paying me for sex," You told Sans, filling him in on what was going on so he could take control of the situation and maybe somehow make it better. They were his 'friends' after all... maybe he knew a way to control them.

You could hope, right?

You looked up in time to see the look on Sans's face, an obvious glare that was directed towards Melanie and Chad. He looked completely livid... eyelights miniscule but sharp and bright, face shadowed.

...If looks could kill.

You also noticed that most of the bystanders were starting to leave all of a sudden, hurrying away, aside from the ones at their lockers, actually there for a reason. It made you feel a lot better, in the end, knowing less people were around and it would cause less drama. You really didn't wanna deal with seventy different rumors, all being false and not even close to the truth, spread by a different person with each one.

It was exhausting.

Chad smiled at Sans, and it made you feel sick. "C'mon dude. You really think we'd do that?"

"yes." His answer was instant, and it was firm. You had to admit that you felt a small moment of anxiety, thinking there was a possible chance he might end up believing his friends, but... he didn't, and you quickly realized how stupid your fear really was.

He loved you. He would always pick your side. It was a partnership, and despite all of Sans's flaws, he was more loyal than a dog.

"...Awe," Chad whined softly, sounding childish and ridiculous. You had half a mind to laugh in his face, but... you didn't.

You just...

"...I wanna go home," You told Sans, softly, feeling yourself becoming on the verge of tears. You were so tired of people. Tired of feeling like shit because people like to treat you like you were dirt beneath their shoes. You felt like the slice of bread at the front of the loaf... nobody liked you.

Except for Sans.

"...right now?" He asked you, his voice tight with anger, but you knew the anger wasn't related to anything you did wrong.

"P-Please," You begged, your voice cracking from tears, praying they didn't notice.

"...alright," He agreed, making you feel relieved.

...But before he teleported, his arm shot out like lightning. You didn't even have a chance to blink, let alone react, as Sans grabbed Chad's head by the hair at the back and slammed it at full force into one of the lockers, the sound crashing out like a shotgun. You barely even registered the movement, but suddenly it was all happening, Chad's shocked expression morphing into pain, the slamming noise, and the scream...

...And then suddenly you were back in his room.

And you broke down.

You started sobbing hysterically, unable to help it as everything came crashing down, knees giving out and hitting the floor. You couldn't hold up the walls anymore, and you needed to release them.

"...shhh," He cooed, holding you close to him, trying to comfort you while you bawled your eyes out.

Everybody at school already hated you, and now it was worse. Now everybody thought you were a cheap whore who would sleep with anybody for what, for thirty dollars? Melanie hated you, she always had, and you knew she was never going to stop making your life hell... especially now that you had Sans, the person she used to use for arm candy. He chose you, and now you were paying for it.

Now they were going to make your life a living hell.

"E-everyone thinks I'm a slut! Ch-Chad tried to pay me!" You exclaimed, finally able to tell Sans more about what had happened. You bottled enough inside as it was, you didn't need to add this to it.

He started to run his fingers through your hair, guiding you over to the bed and sitting down with you, pulling you into his lap as he tried to calm you down.

"they're wrong. it's rumors. they're all stupid."

Ironically, you're the one who felt wrong and stupid.

"W-why does everybody hate me so much!?" You asked him, even though you could name off a thousand reasons why people wouldn't like you.

You were gaining weight.

You were annoying.

Ugly.

Stupid.

Worthless.

In the way.

Unloveable.

Hell, not even your own parents loved you.

...There had to be something wrong you, despite how perfect Sans made you out to be in his sockets.

/

"because you're worth more than they are," Sans said, using his hand in your hair to guide your head closer to him and press a kiss to your temple. "and they can't deal with that."

...You just... couldn't believe that. It just sounded like he was trying to make you feel better. So you simply clung onto him and cried, feeling so tiny and unloved.

"i love you." He said, holding you tighter.

At least someone did.

You said it back, thick with tears, almost unintelligible, but Sans seemed to understand, gently picking you up and moving so that the two of you were lying down on the comfortable mattress together. It definitely helped, the soft material of his duvet and the slight give of the bed meaning you rolled into him naturally, giving you the slightest element of feeling secure.

"you're okay." He cooed, pressing more kisses to the top of your head and forehead.

"I-I'm so sick of school." You spat, eyes sore and skull hurting from another stress headache coming on, wiping your cheeks roughly with the palm of your hand.

...

Sans froze.

... Feeling his kisses and back rubbing stop dead was worrying, and you looked up, confused.

...

His sockets were almost empty.

"W-what?" You asked, even more worried. Was being sick of school bad? Did... did you hurt his feelings?

Great. Your mind chided. You upset the only person who actually loves you. Well done, y/n. After all he's done for you...

"... i'm..." His voice was quiet. "... i'm graduating soon."

... What? Confusion started to seep into the place of the self-hate and upset. Your brows furrowed. "... I know?"

He held eye contact.

"... you'll be alone at school."

...

Your eyes widened, stomach dropping almost as far as your heart.

... No.

No no no no no no no no no...

You barely registered Sans saying something else, your muscles tensing up, vision swimming, head pounding, chest getting tighter and tighter and tighter as the only thing you could see was being alone again, trapped at your desk, trapped in the halls, trapped, trapped, no one to call for help- you started to cry again, confused and panicking, fingers and toes starting to seize up and sting painfully.

You couldn't breathe, your chest was so tight, it was like trying to squeeze air through a thick layer of unmoving rubber.

You couldn't be alone. Not again. Not again! The tears were too thick and your throat was too thick and your panic was so intense. Not again!

"... breathe, sweetheart. breathe."

At the sound of Sans's cool tone you wrapped yourself around him further, just wailing. You couldn't just breathe , it wasn't that simple, why did he THINK you were panicking?!

Two warm, smooth, slightly chipped hands cupped your cheeks and tilted your face up to him. You could barely see through the fuzzy film of tears.

"look at me."

You blinked, the tears rolling down your face, sight momentarily cleared. His two, piercing eyelights filled your vision.

"match my breathing." His tone was so soft and his eyelights were so easy to focus on. "okay?"

His breaths were big, deep, slow, clothed ribcage expanding so much the shirt stretched, before going back down again, exhaled through the nasal cavity making the stray hairs framing your face dance delicately. You tried, breathing like him, breathing big, deep, slow...

You allowed your eyes to close.