...

Gaster was gone by the time you woke up.

Sans got up a little early and went to his office to get a proper moment to talk to him. Some time where Sans wasn't a few minutes away from leaving to go on a really important date. Time where they could genuinely sit down and have some time to catch up with each other, find out how things have been going on, connect a bit...

... Only, he opened the door to find the office completely empty, with little more than a note saying G was gone.

A note. Gaster didn't even wake Sans up to say goodbye.

He didn't wake up his son.

You got up (the empty bed immediately telling you something was wrong) to find Sans sitting, limp and slumped, on the floor in an empty study. It was a relatively spacious room, with big windows overlooking the house grounds... A fancy metal bulb cover on the ceiling decorated with little hanging gems to catch the light... bookcases lined with books that sported a thin film of dust, untouched for years. Most of them were about astrophysics, or just regular physics, or multiverse theory, but a few seemed to be handwritten in weird old symbols.

And positioned near the window- a completely clear, completely clean desk.

"... he left." Sans said, quiet. His eyelights were gone. "again."

...

You sat in front of him, and wrapped your arms around him as best you could with his slumped position, pulling him close and trying to ignore the aching in your heart.

When you'd first found out Sans's father was the royal scientist, you'd been... admittedly, pissed off. Sans had everything- a huge house, good food, money, looks, smarts, and on top of that, a famous and incredible dad. You'd been both jealous and slightly disgusted. Why wasn't he happy with what he had? Was he really so spoiled that he needed even more?

... But now, you could see that it was partly (if not mostly) Gaster's fault Sans ended up the way he did. From what you'd seen, what the two of them had with each other could hardly be considered a father-son bond. They barely spoke, they barely interacted, Gaster hardly even knew what his son's likes and dislikes were. Gaster saw Sans as someone he had ties to and had to provide for, but...

... not really something worth his emotional time.

His mother's death, his closest 'friends' being barely tolerable psychopaths and his brother constantly being away, topped with the only person who really should be there for him just dropping it all and leaving at the soonest convenience...

... It made Sans desperate for love. Desperate for any good feeling. Where a normal person would just tell you they were your soulmate and work it out with you as it went along... Sans had to control everything, manipulate everything, trap you with him to ensure he wouldn't lose you.

It wasn't an excuse, but... it was an explanation.

"... i'm fine." Sans mumbled against your shoulder, even as his voice and frame shook slightly. "he does this all the time."

"Sans..." You said, soft, stroking the back of his skull. But before you could continue, you felt...

... Your shoulder dampening.

"h-he does this all the time." He repeated, usually strong and confident voice paper thin.

...

As gently as you could, you led him out of the offending room, kicking the door shut behind you and instead pulling him into the bedroom. Right now, it just seemed like a good idea to get him away from anything that made him think of his dad. Little lines of blue were streaking down his cheekbones from his sockets, still empty of light.

You were going to head for the bed, but... you noticed the collection of bean bags in the corner. One of them large enough for three people to easily fit on side-by-side, two metres across at least.

You sat him down on the largest bean bag, and quickly snuggled into his lap, encouraging him to lie down and cuddle you.

...

He did. He sank into the cushion and pulled you closer, on top of him... your legs over his, chest-to-chest, arm wrapped securely around his middle. He had one massive arm around your middle, other hand playing with your hair a bit.

"I'm not going anywhere." You assured, voice gentle.

... Your heart ached when that little sentence made him break down in tears of relief.

Before you knew it, broken apologies were spilling from him. He was apologising for everything, clinging so tight- apologising for following you, for stealing your stuff, for texting you anonymously, for taking pictures, for manipulating you, for making your parents kick you out, for making you suck him off, for forcing you to rely on him, for tricking you into falling in love, for lying about so much shit. He couldn't stop crying, and eventually the tears overtook everything and you couldn't understand a word of what he was saying.

You just whispered reassurances and petted his skull. There was really nothing else you could do- and apparently, nothing more was needed. He eventually passed out, still holding on to you with desperate hands.

You snuggled tighter, figuring you might as well fall asleep too.

He may've been a broken, possessive stalker...

... But he was your broken possessive stalker.

---

/

You were graduating.

You were graduating, and high school was ending.

It was a close call, really. You almost flunked your senior year, but Sans managed to help you pull your grade back up to a C+ in Math two weeks before finals. You had no idea how he managed to do it, but he did. And then you passed finals thanks to him helping you study.

And by studying, you mean he kept you up all night and continuously made you go over the notes he printed out for you, last minute, since you hadn't studied at all prior to the night before.

Regardless of how much it took to get you there, you graduated. Not only did you graduate, but you got an A on your finals. You did it, and you were just as proud of yourself as Sans was, if not more if that was even possible.

The second you got your diploma handed to you, Sans pulled you close to him and spun you around in his arms. You giggled like the school girl you just were, and hugged him so tightly.

You were officially done with high school.

You had graduated, and you had overcome so many obstacles.

He smelled so good as you hugged him, and knowing you never had to come back to this just made you feel so much happier and made you hug him so much tighter. Your life could go towards what you always wanted it to; finally focusing on your relationship and mental health, as opposed to focusing on school and stupid grades you couldn't have given less of a shit about to begin with.

...You could finally be his completely, and you wanted that. You wanted to no longer belong to books and teachers.

You needed a break before you decided to start thinking about college or a career.

"...Let's go home. I wanna talk," You told him, wanting nothing more than to crawl into your bed sheets and cuddle with him all night long.

"mhm."

He seemed to have no problem with that, as he quickly teleported you both home.

You took off the graduation cap and robe as soon as you were back in your shared bedroom, and tossed them both onto a chair before flopping down on the bed. Fuck the sheets felt like heaven on your skin. For once, you were glad Sans didn't make the bed after he woke up. It already felt comfortable and broken in.

You felt the bed shift as Sans's weight fell next to you on the bed, causing you to roll slightly closer to him. You felt so good, knowing you had this to come home to everyday. And now, you never had to leave it.

"you're so smart," He praised you, starting to stroke your hair. God, it felt nice. Even better than usual since it felt like you had earned it somehow. But regardless, you weren't that big of a fan when it came to being praised.

It made you a bit uncomfortable, really.

"Shut up," You protested, lightly smacking his chest without disturbing the arm that was playing with your hair. It would be tragic if he stopped.

"got an a," He said, as if he had to accentuate how he felt. Make you feel ever more strange and uncomfortable.

You hated it, and you loved it.

"Sans," You said, a bit more stern and in a warning type tone instead of the playful one you had used prior. You wanted him to stop, and he needed to know you weren't kidding.

You appreciated it, of course, just... you didn't like it.

"...sorry," He apologized, snuggling up to your body, warmth radiating off of him. You didn't realize how cold you really were until that moment.

It was strange.

...

...You wanted him closer.

You rolled on top of him, and sat up on his 'stomach', peering down at him. He looked shocked, but his hands found your hips pretty much instantly. Almost as if by instinct. It all just felt so natural.

You leaned down and kissed him, feeling his hand tangle in your hair as you did so, and he returned your affections. You could tell you both really enjoyed the feeling of you being on top of him. You felt control, and he felt wanted.

You stopped for a moment, and it seemed like he was about to protest, but decided against it once your shirt came over your head and hit the floor.

...You paused for a second.

"...I-Is this... can we...?" The last thing you wanted was to do something he found uncomfortable.

But then again, it was Sans. You probably really didn't need to ask.

"yes."

That was all you needed to hear before you kissed him again.

You ended up getting more than a diploma that night. You gained confidence, and that was something you had wanted for a long time.