anothertale

The shade offered by the tree she was sitting under offered little to no reprieve from the sweltering heat, yet Toriel could not find it in herself to wish she could be somewhere else.

It was their second summer on the surface. Almost two whole years… But, somehow, she was not tired of gazing upon the big blue sky yet, and no skies were ever as blue as summer ones. The sun was almost unbearably bright, making it hard to glance up at said sky, and yet she did, squinting.

So blue. So big. So freeing.

With a small smile she looked back down at the scene in front of her. Her child, seemingly uncaring of the almost oppressive heat, ran around with unbridled energy and a laugh on their mouth, small arms holding on tight to the handle of the basket full of water balloons they’d spent the past solid five minutes filling at the small fountain in their local park. Following suit on long and gangly limbs the tallest of the skeleton brothers also seemed entirely uncaring of the bright sun beating down on them, making the off-white color of his skull almost shine as he threw balloon after balloon, making them explode in a shower of drops against the climbing cage that was serving as a divide of sort between the two teams.

“DO YOU CALL THAT AIMING?!” Undyne yelled from the other side of it with an almost manic smile, also pitching balloons with no restraint, a sweat covered Alphys trotting after her and holding onto their own reserve of ‘bullets’. Despite what she’d just exclaimed her aim really was not any better than Papyrus’, only adding onto the small bits of exploded balloons hanging onto the cage.

Toriel chuckled fondly. The entire idea of the water balloon fight was supposed to be trying to have fun while battling the summer heat, but seeing as neither team had managed to land a single hit yet…

Well, at least they were having fun, without the shadow of a doubt.

“ah, youth”

Her smile grew larger as she turned toward the source of that exaggeratedly wistful statement.

“Feeling old, dear?” she asked as Sans, somehow clad in one of his ever present hoodies despite the oven-like temperatures, sat down by her side on the plaid picnic blanket, his small skeletal hand clutching at an oversized plastic glass for dear life. She accepted the silent offer before it’d slip out of his fingers, and he seemed relieved as both his hands closed with a series of soft clicking noises around his own, far smaller serving of ice cold tea.

“I was born an old soul, you know that”

“Thank you very much,” she said reflexively before taking a sip, glancing at him with the furry arch of her brow rising slightly. “I wouldn’t say that. I know plenty of old people who’d join a water balloon fight… What you are is usually just called ‘being lazy’.”

“zing” Sans replied without any real sign of having taken offense to the teasing, the light in his eye sockets fixed on the increasingly more rambunctious fight in the playground, the tea rapidly disappearing in seemingly thin air whenever he brought the glass close to his everlasting grin.

(Toriel had never really questioned it. She had once been the Queen of all Monsters, after all, and often witnessing her subjects do things that would be apparently impossible due to their appearance had been utterly normal to her… But she knew that humans found just about everything about the skeleton brothers downright confounding. Just as she knew that said confusion brought no small amount of chaotic joy to the man sitting by her side.)

They fell into a comfortable silence as they slowly finished their tea, the both of them watching the seemingly unending war in front of them. Poor Alphys seemed just about ready to collapse, but she yet tenaciously hung on, not wanting to leave her beloved deprived of bullets, even if how long would Undyne last was debatable, her scales glistening under the sweltering sun. Frisk was also drenched by that point, likely a mix of sweat and the water from the balloons, and even if their smile hadn’t abated a single inch it seemed as if they were starting to also run out of steam.

The only one who appeared to be entirely unbothered and still full of stamina was Papyrus who, unlike his brother, was dressed in a more season appropriate manner with a colorful t-shirt and shorts, but Toriel knew it was only because Papyrus cared a great deal about being fashionable… In his own way, that was.

She had never asked if the two ever felt hot or cold, but she also had never felt the need to ask, not after witnessing Sans trudging through the snow that had fallen heavy enough to reach his collarbone just to go grab the morning paper, only dressed in shorts and a loose, faded shirt he used as a pajama, barefooted.

It was clear enough the two weren’t bothered by extreme temperatures much at all. She was a bit jealous, if she had to be entirely honest.

“better?”

“A little, yes,” she looked down on her already almost empty glass of tea, only a tiny speck of ice floating on the surface, at that point.

“i would’ve never guessed summer would affect you so much, what with fire being your element and all that”

“Well, I already run hot exactly because of that, so…”

“oh, yes, you sure do run hot” Sans quipped back, so fast he really gave her no time to finish her sentence. When she turned slightly to look at him, he winked. “in more ways than one”

“You’re shameless,” she replied, attempting to give him an unimpressed look, which was ruined by the small smile pulling at her fanged mouth. He chuckled with that almost rough baritone of his, letting himself be flicked playfully on the ridge of his not-nose.

“guilty as charged” he admitted with a small shrug, his grin having grown larger. Toriel, a smile now well-fixed on her, put down her glass to scoot closer.

It had been months since their relationship had turned into something more, and the initial time full of awkward little moments as they found a new footing around that small, ever shifting thing growing between them had long passed… But the thrill hadn’t. She still found herself enjoying that brief tickle behind her breastbone whenever they’d be close, as if part of her had never really grown away from the once young, naive girl who dreamed of finding love she’d been such a long time past.

It was nice, knowing not all of her had been worn down by her life, that part of her still retained that youthful optimism; and she only had Sans to thank for that, for helping her rediscover that part of herself.

Without looking at her Sans offered his hand quietly, and she looked down at it as she accepted it.

(Couldn’t help it, really. She still found the way his whole hand fit in her palm with room to spare just so dang adorable. Perhaps she’d never stop finding it adorable, which was just fine for her.)

A shrill laugh erupted not too far, and she took a moment to look at Frisk, now with shreds of colorful balloon hanging on their drenched hair, letting themselves be dragged toward the fountain by an ever excited Papyrus, the both of them apparently ready to stock up on more ammo for another round… But as if her eyes were magnetically attracted to him she couldn’t help but look at her companion once more.

Sans was quiet at that moment… But he often was. It was something she’d discovered by spending more time with him, sharing more mundane moments of everyday life: for all his willingness to crack jokes, greet familiar faces and merrily chatting away with the apparently endless amount of friends and acquaintances he seemed to have, Sans was a surprisingly silent companion when it was just the two of them.

Sure, they still spent plenty of time also talking about this or that, sharing terrible-yet-endearing jokes, but the quietness had grown larger between them as their relationship changed, and Toriel found herself not minding it in the slightest.

It was a comfortable sort of silence. The silence of those who trusted blindly into the shared affection, not needing to fill the quiet with empty words, sitting side by side as they each focused on their own thing, yet conscious of the other’s presence.

Alone together.

And she’d grown to realize there were… Layers to the way the silence would sit on her partner’s shoulders, as if in a way Sans was capable of conveying so much without needing to speak a single word. There were minute shades to his expressions, to the way the lights in his eye sockets shifted, growing larger or smaller, dimmer or brighter… And not to toot her own horn, but Toriel was fairly certain she was a downright pro at reading his seemingly fixed expression, by that point.

And what she was reading, in that moment, was a sort of pensive melancholy, a feeling that seemed out of place as they sat under a beautiful, bright blue sky, watching their loved ones having so much fun.

“Gold for your thoughts?” she inquired softly, observing how the lights of his eyes contracted slightly for all but a shard of a second, before sliding to fix themselves on her.

“...mh” he said after a long moment of silence “that seems like a cheap offer”

“I can be persuaded to throw in a ketchup covered omelet.”

“now we’re talkin’” Sans shifted slightly to angle his body towards her, eyes ever so slightly brighter. “two omelette?"

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” she replied, one furry brow arching slightly as he huffed a small laugh. “You’ve been pensive as of late, you know?”

“guess i have” he concurred pleasantly. “thinkin’ about a bunch of stuff”

“Care to share?”

She waited as his eyes peered up at her pointedly. Sometimes, when he looked at her like that, she was distantly reminded of the fact that many, both between humans and monsters, found his stare unsettling; she did not, she never did, but it was a fact she logically knew, nonetheless.

“...how to put it” he said after a long moment of silence. “i have been thinking about you”

“Don’t you often?” she teased, but gently, letting him know she was listening.

“yes, well- i’d imagine the way i have been thinking about you in this case is… a little different than usual” he continued, unfazed. “there is something i have been meaning to ask you for a while, now, but felt the moment was never right. but i guess there never will be a right moment for this sort of question”

Now Toriel’s curiosity was well and truly piqued. She tilted her head slightly, peering down at her companion in patient silence as he seemingly took another moment to properly gather his words, eyelights unfocused.

“do you really think you are… broken?”

Toriel’s mouth opened slightly. Then closed. She frowned a little, out of confusion.

“I’m not quite sure how to answer that, nor why you are asking?” she admitted then, sincere.

Sans looked back at her, his gaze ever so slightly more prickly, as if he was trying to peer into her very soul.

“you said that you thought you were too broken”

“I… Did?”

“you did”

“...I’m sorry, dear, I genuinely don’t remember ever saying that,” she admitted, trying and failing to recall when she could’ve possibly told Sans something like that.

“eh. can’t blame you. ‘s been a hot minute” Sans replied with a small shrug. “you said it back then, when you were supposed to teach me how to make a proper tart for the kiddo’s birthday but we ended up focused on… uh… other activities”

“Back when- Oh!” she said, understanding finally dawning on her.

That fateful early fall afternoon of months prior… She could recall many details of that day: how the window was open to let the still almost summer-like scent in, the soft light bathing her kitchen in yellow and orange hues as the sun approached its time to set… The way the understanding of what she was saying truly sunk in as he looked at her, how his small fingers had closed around her wrist, the gentle feeling of his round cheek pressing on her palm when he nuzzled it in a quiet admittance of reciprocated feelings.

How they very much did not even try to recover the squashed tart, allowing themselves to enjoy that first step in a new direction and making out like naughty teenagers on the kitchen counter until they were forced to stop by the very loud return of Frisk and Papyrus, and subsequent trying to explain why was cream smeared all over the counter -and Sans- once the two joined them in the kitchen.

She recalled many, many details… But not the exact wording she’d used. Apparently Sans did, since he seemingly spent a good chunk of time pondering on it.

“I still do not remember saying that, if I have to be entirely honest,” Toriel admitted, distractedly rubbing the pad of her thumb on the curves of his phalanges. “I guess I did. I guess… I did feel that way, back then.”

“did you feel that way, or do you still feel that way?”

She found herself once more short on words, thinking for a moment.

“...I’m not quite sure,” again a soft admittance, almost whispered in secret. “I guess I never really took the time to properly examine all of… That.”

“...yeah,” Sans replied, and his tone surprised her, in a way. He’d managed to cram so much in a single word: worry, a smidge of sadness and a sort of… Determination, perhaps. “tori, you know… i am grateful for all you’ve done for me. for… for being willing to lend me an ear to listen and shoulder to cry on. for allowing me to unload all that junk i carried and believing me. and i guess… i guess having all that also allowed me to see some things more clearly”

She said nothing, a gentle sort of curiosity settled in her chest as she let Sans take another moment to gather his words.

“you never really allow yourself to look inward, do you?” he said quietly, eyelights like pin pricks in her soul. “not to say that you are thoughtless- but you always put everybody’s needs before yours. there is always someone who needs something from you: the kiddo, me, Pap- heck, all of monsterkind, really. and i… i understand that is how you express your love. taking care of others is what you do, and you do it with a smile. it is never a chore for you, but… if you are always taking care of everybody, who takes care of you?”

“...You do,” she said after a moment, a small frown emerging on her face. “You always do. You make me breakfast and look after the house; you take care of Frisk when I am busy, you bring me lunch to school when I forget it and make me a tea whenever I want it without me ever needing to say a word-”

“but those are just… things that anybody does for their partner, yeah?” Sans interjected gently. “everybody would do that, none of that is really special or remarkable-”

“It is, for me.”

“and i’m glad you appreciate it, t. but i’m talking about something a lil’ different than that” he continued almost stubbornly. “do you think i don’t notice when you are feeling wistful? do you think i don’t notice how sometimes you just… fade away? and i won’t pretend to try and fully understand what you must be thinking about, although i think i can certainly make an educated guess… but those moments never last. when i ask you what’s up you never tell me. you just say you are fine and go right back to taking care of us. i’ve hoped many times that you’d tell me, but you never did”

It seemed as if Sans was hell bent on taking her words away, that day, seeing as Toriel found herself once more entirely speechless.

Was she really? Wistful? Fading away?

(She was. She knew she was. She never allowed those moments to last long, but she never could quite chase them away either. She’d just go along with her day, basking in the simplicity of the quiet life they had managed to make for themselves on the surface and then all of a sudden a thought would intrude her mind, making her wonder… How would things be different, if all of her children had been there too? If she’d never lost them, any of them…

But she had. She’d lost so many of them. And it hurt, it always did. But she couldn’t allow herself to just wallow in her misery; she had done that for too long. Life was different, now. She had Frisk, she had Sans, she had all of their friends. She had a life to tend to, and she couldn’t waste precious time with empty what ifs.)

“...i want you to rely on me” Sans continued in front of her silence, with a quiet resolution that carried a seriousness not often present in his voice. “that is what a partnership is supposed to be, is it not? two people on equal footing, leaning on one another when necessary. I’ve relied on you many, many times… and i need you to know that you can rely on me, too. you’re allowed to be sad, tori. you’re allowed to take time for yourself, to process all the bull you had to endure, to not always be the perfect mom, partner, friend… sometimes you can let others carry the burdens and responsibilities. you can be selfish. i want you to be selfish, when you need to be”

“I…” she softly let out, her voice breaking immediately as tears prickled in her eyes.

“its alright” Sans said, infinitely gentle. “you can cry, too”

And she did. She didn’t sob, nor let out a single noise, really, but allowed the tears to trail along her fur as she leaned in, Sans’ arms closing around her as much as his smaller size allowed it.

She wasn’t sad, per se. There was a mix of feelings battling in her chest, but most of all she felt… Bittersweet.

“...Did I really say that I was broken?” She couldn’t help but ask in a whisper, nuzzling ever so slightly against the curve of his cheek.

“you did- i reckon i shouldn’t be surprised you wouldn’t remember. you said it almost flippantly, and, well… i guess i am more than familiar with that sort of attitude, am i not? i get it, t”

“...And you’ve been thinking about it… All this time?”

“‘course i did”

Of course he did. Of course he did.

She leaned back so she could look in his eyes, smiling even as fresh tears followed the wet trail along her fur. She almost felt as if her chest could burst with all the emotions rising into it, along her flesh and bones, in the very air filling her lungs.

“I love you so very much,” she said, because otherwise she truly might’ve exploded if she’d tried to hold those words back.

“and i love you” he replied without missing a beat, ever so endearing. “promise me you’ll tell me when things get on your mind, from now on? that you’ll let yourself truly think ‘bout them?”

“...I promise,” she whispered, smile growing larger. “You might need to remind me, every now and then…”

“‘s fine. you’ve had to remind me to cut the crap plenty of times, it’s only fair i do the same, yeah?”

“I guess so,” she let out along with a small, huffy laugh. “I… thank you, my dear. I guess… I guess I needed to hear that.”

“no prob. and… huh. sorry.”

“For what?”

“for taking so long to actually say all of that. i wasn’t sure how to approach it-- should’ve just said it without twisting myself into a pretzel, huh”

“A pretzel, you say,” Toriel replied, her smile turning somewhat mischievous. “That is an interesting thought.”

Sans huffed out of his not-nose so loud she felt the warmth of it against her neck.

“t”

She laughed, unbridled joy filling every little particle of her being, and when she leaned in a bit more to start placing what felt like a constellation of kisses all over his face, she could feel a silent laugh shaking Sans’ shoulders under her hands.

Perhaps she was a little broken, but that was alright. Broken things could be repaired… And, sure, perhaps they would never be the same, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.