Chapter Text
“How could he run out on me! After I–”
You shouldn’t have offered your favorite handkerchief. The delicate satin was ruined, damp with snot. Lipstick kissed the fabric as your sister brought it to her flushed face. It was a shame, but you couldn’t take it back now. You could only sit beside Lisa, and let her cry against your shoulder.
“It’s just like he said, I’m an idiot! A dumb bitch–”
“Shhh,” your arms circled around her shoulders, scratching your manicured nails against her skin. Granted, it was stupid to give Mathew as many chances as she had, even if you wouldn’t say it. He’d walked out enough times before, and Lisa just kept letting him come back.
Your baby sister's makeup was ruined, her mascara bleeding against her cheeks and hair sticking to her wet skin. Even like this, she was beautiful. She’d been turning heads since the two of you were just little girls. You had a vivid memory of sitting in Sunday school, bored out of your mind as the nun who taught it praised Lisa. God took his sweet time molding you! Be grateful for his gift, she’d proudly said. The memory didn’t end so well for you. You got mouthy, and asked why God hadn’t been smart enough to ‘gift’ your family money instead. Your words hadn’t even come from jealousy, though the old woman shamed you for it anyway. Beauty never lasted long–it wilted away and drove people to madness. At least money could fill empty stomachs.
You wiped at Lisa’s eyes for her, dragging your handkerchief over those pesky tears. “You’re not stupid, hun. Just too fucking lenient.”
Lisa scoffed, her voice thick with phlegm, “That’s the same thing these days.”
She pushed her head against your chest, clinging onto your blouse. It was so easy to fall into this maternal role for her. Who else could she rely on for this? Your mother died when Lisa was born, and your father was too busy killing himself with work to be there for her. You knew dear old Dad had done the best he could, but you scorned him for not being around Lisa enough. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so obsessed with every no-good man that gave her the tiniest sliver of attention. You’d chased off dozens of bastards like Mathew at the first glimpse of insincerity. Now, you’re being punished for retiring your old habits.
It wasn’t fair. Lisa wasn’t fifteen and sneaking out the window to see some puberty-ridden moron; she was a grown woman for god's sake! Whatever decisions she made should have impacted only herself.
From the moment you’d first met him, when Lisa had proudly brought him to your business, holding his hand like a prize, you’d never bought Mathew’s ‘nice guy’ act. He’d never laid a hand on Lisa, but a nonviolent man still has the capacity to hurt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he didn’t have his shit together, walking around in his tacky suits and making promises he never kept. He was a gambler, and a stingy person like yourself was sickened by that. Lisa was so happy, flaunting her cheap engagement ring on her finger. It made you weak. It made you ignore his ‘shortcomings’, as she so lovingly called them.Who were you to rip that happiness away from her?
You supposed it was your fault, for allowing a conman to have your sister so whipped for him. No matter how many warnings you gave her, Lisa didn’t listen. She’d cry and raise hell at the smallest criticism against her guy. Lisa acted like he held up the sky and sun, like he was her ‘perfect half’.
Yeah right. What kind of soulmate gambles away his wife's money and walks out on her? That money hadn’t belonged to Lisa alone!
You’d worked your ass off in your teenage years running odd jobs, including some you wished you could wipe clean from your mind, until you finally made enough money to open a small corner store. You’d shed tears at the end of your first week running the store, overjoyed that financial stability was no longer miles away. It felt like all of your struggles had finally meant something.
Where did Mathew get off stealing that from you? From your family?
You’d left Lisa in charge of the store that night, giving you time to buy groceries for the home and enjoy some much needed alone time. When you came back, Lisa was in tears and your register was empty. You were enraged as Lisa made excuses for him, that he was ‘in desperate need of a few hundred after a bad game of poker’. Like you gave a shit if thugs broke his legs! That was your fucking money! Thankfully, he’d only taken the cash from the front counter, and hadn’t begged for more. Your savings were tucked away in your room, all of which were still safe and hidden from Mathew. Lisa would never let him in there.
As upsetting as tonight was, this didn’t set you back enough for you to start hunting down spare change in the couch cushions. You’d need to be financially careful with shopping for supplies this week, but other than that you and Lisa were peachy. You’d have a less than civil conversation with Mathew when he came crawling back for a place to sleep, like he always did. For now, you stayed focused on comforting Lisa.
“I’m so sorry, sis,” She whimpered. “I thought he wouldn’t do this anymore…”
The crazy thing was, you knew she was truly sorry. She wanted to be a good wife for that man, god knows why, and giving him the cash was her way of doing that. You could only stroke her head, and dry her tears. Lisa wasn’t an idiot. She was hypnotized by a demon.
“This can’t happen again.” Lisa nodded at your firm words, pulling away to rub her eyes. You weren’t bullshitting either. Mathew wouldn’t ever get a cent out of you again, and Lisa had to understand that.
“I know. I would’ve never done what I did, had those guys he played against not been dangerous,” she murmured, “I told him to stay away from crooks like that from now on, or else he’d never see me again–sis, I mean it!”
You couldn’t hide your frown. As much as you wanted to believe her threat was the truth, you knew your sister better than that. As soon as Mathew came back, they’d fight like alley cats and within an hour forget what made them so angry in the first place. How the hell were you supposed to get this guy out of both of your lives when your sister was too in love to see reason?
It was hard to understand where she was coming from. You couldn’t say that you’d ever been in love before. Sure, you’d had boyfriends, and your fair share of night-time rendezvous, but keeping your sister and yourself afloat had always taken priority over such flowery feelings.
It would be nice to settle down one day, get married, start your own family…
With the way things were going, you doubted that would happen any time soon.
“You should get yourself to bed,” you stood from your rickety sofa, and tugged at Lisa’s wrist. She wobbled to her own feet like a ragdoll. It made you nostalgic of when she was just a pudgy toddler. You’d bring the hammer down when bed time came, and she’d fight you the whole way.
“C’mon, if you keep crying you’ll get wrinkles. Oh, I think you’ve already got one–”
Lisa snorted when you stuck your finger between her eyebrows, and swatted your hand away.
“I don’t want to hear warnings about wrinkles coming from you. Your frown lines are starting to look like a second mouth!”
“Get your ass to bed,” You playfully hissed, pushing at her back. She giggled and trotted down the hall to her bedroom. Lisa hesitated with her hand at the doorknob.
“Sis,” she turned her head back towards you, her voice a quiet melody, “Thanks for always sticking by me. I know that when I’m falling apart, you’re going to be there to keep me together.”
“Course’ I am. You’re my favorite sister, after all,” You joke back, hoping the tremble in your voice isn’t too obvious. Lisa laughs at your joke, and seals herself away into her bedroom.
Alone at last.
Your little slice of heaven waited for you; the alley next to your store. It was your best friend after a hard day like this one, at least, more reliable than anyone else in your life was. Lisa had banned smoking inside of the home, and you didn’t want the smell to linger inside of your store when you opened in the morning. You felt like a kid again, whenever you snuck away to this place to be alone. You’d never actually run away when you were that age, but it was fun to pretend.
Flames sparked at the tip of your cigarette, and you brought it to your lips. The earthy taste filled your mouth and wiggled down your throat, then expelled in a light fog.
Seriously, what were you going to do about your sister's worm of a husband? The last time he’d pissed you off, the night he brought his friends over to play a game of cards and completely trashed your home, you’d threatened him with the old baseball bat you kept tucked under the front counter. Obviously, he wasn’t scared enough by that! Maybe the S&W you’d bought for an emergency would finally get its moment in the spotlight.
A shadow fell over the sidewalk beside the alley, and you lifted your head just in time to see a giant figure stop at the corner.
He was like something out of a dream…actually, a nightmare would be more fitting. Tall and broad, dressed in black, with a bowler hat to cover his lack of hair. Where skin would be, a chalky, white exterior took its place. He was no man. He was a monster.
A monster, who was trying to light the butt of a cigar with feeble success. His large hand kept flicking at the gold lighter, but no flame ever came. The beady whites of his large eyesockets glared down at the old thing, like it had personally insulted him.
Then, those terrifying balls of white looked your way. You almost dropped your cigarette. He didn’t say anything, and you had swallowed your tongue. It almost felt like a competition, to see who would acknowledge the other first.
“Need a light?” Your voice echoed in the alley, but why would you ask that! As soon as this monster had taken notice of you, you should’ve flown to the backdoor of your shop and locked it. The quiet game was a clear power move by him. He had to know that his presence made your heart pause inside your chest, and pray to a god that never answered your calls. You’d always had a distaste for men that went out of their way to intimidate women, but this could turn you into a body bag found washed up by the sea.
If his silence told you anything, he seemed surprised by your offer. As if you needed to prove your intent, you fished your own lighter out of your pocket and held it up for him to see.
His head tilted to the left in consideration. Then, he took a step towards you and bent down. The cigar remained balanced between his teeth–god, they were sharp. If he had any interest in it, you were sure he could rip your head off with one bite. One of them had been replaced with a golden tooth. How ridiculous, you mused to yourself. His mouth was flashy enough without it. It seemed attention-seeking.
He stayed hovering in front of you, his head remaining at your level. You finally realized he wanted you to be the one to light it. What a dick. Unfortunately, you were ready to play along, seeing as you didn’t plan on dying tonight. You held your lighter at the end of his cigar and lit it. Your hand wanted to shake from being so close to a very deadly mouth. You wouldn’t let yourself. Showing weakness was the wrong move to make. As soon as it was lit, you pulled your hand away.
His chest expanded as he inhaled the cigar, and floral smoke puffed out of his teeth, right into your face. You gagged, coughing loudly at the strong scent. Dickhead!
“thanks for the help, hun.” His voice was deep, yet, not unpleasant. You assumed it would be raspy like the smokers you’ve known over the years. His was a velvety baritone that sent a shiver up your spine.
“don’t ya know smokin’ rots your lungs?” He plucked the cigar from his tee–no, you didn’t want to look at those anymore. Too scary. He was eyeing the cigarette held between your fingers. “i don’t have the equipment to be worried bout’ that, but it could kill a gal like you.”
You blinked. No way you were getting lectured by a freakin’ skeleton!
“Who cares?” Oops. Your tone came off a little bitchy. You held your breath and waited for him to return your snark, but it never came. Huh.
You waved the cig in your hands, choosing to keep the conversation going. “Lots of stuff does that. I could get run over by a car tomorrow, or fall down a set of stairs. At least this murderer takes its time.”
“interestin’ logic,” he rumbled back. You shrugged your shoulders and took another inhale of your own choice of poison. “it also ain’t smart to be out by yourself at this hour. ugly fellas enjoy comin’ outta their caves and causin’ trouble.”
A spike of fear started twisting its way through your body. You knew it was a subtle hint that he was talking about himself. You just hoped you could direct this ‘trouble’ he was planning somewhere faaaar away from you.
You threw on your best ‘shocked’ expression, “You don’t say? Thanks for the warning. Let me know when you see one of these ‘ugly fellas’ coming,” then, because apparently you’ve become suicidal, you winked at him, “I’ll scare’em away.”
His eye sockets went wide. He was quiet long enough for you to start regretting your joke, until he leaned back and howled with laughter.
“really now? a little lady like you?”
Well, at least he had a sense of humor.
“Really,” you confirmed, “I basically run these streets.”
He only laughed harder at your boldness, his gut bouncing with every breath in.
“i didn’t realize i was talkin’ to my competition. i’m gettin’ real nervous.”
That basically confirmed your suspicions that he was ‘affiliated’. It wasn’t the first time you’d made small talk with a mobster, though it wasn’t a situation you ever enjoyed. They were criminals, after all. They did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, with zero regard for the safety of the public.
“I think I’ll pass on a budding rivalry with you. Seems like a lot of work.”
“that’s a shame.” Those white eyes of his ran up your body with an intent you weren’t oblivious to. You’d gotten enough stares like that from plenty of human men. Getting it from a monster was new. Coming from someone else, you might’ve found it thrilling.
“what coulda’ been,” he sighed wistfully, and he moved further into your space. With an outstretched finger, he dragged his claw under your chin. Your body froze in place. “doesn’t mean we have ta’ pass on a lil’ fun though.”
Things were not looking good for you. The streets were empty, he was blocking the way to your backdoor, and even if you screamed you knew Lisa wouldn’t wake up to hear you. Your sister could sleep through an earthquake if you weren’t around to wake her. There wasn’t a chance in hell you could overpower him either. Not with how his massive size dwarfed you in comparison.
“ya seemed ta’ have a lot on your mind…” the tip of his finger was far too jagged compared to a normal skeleton hand. The ends of his phalanges had zero roundness to them, with a cold surface that made you shudder. “i’d love pickin’ that head of yours apart over a few drinks. whadya’ say?”
“I’m picky with my alcohol,” you answer as calmly as you can. He wasn’t making it easy though!
“you’ll like what i’ve got, promise.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“sans.” He dropped the name with zero fight. Strange. You’d thought he’d want to keep a low profile. His finger dropped down to your throat and you quivered. The bastard chuckled at that. “‘sans the skeleton’, if you want the full name. Yours?”
“Where’s the mystery in that?” You nervously joke. He patiently waited for a real answer, and being scared to piss him off, you begrudgingly gave it. Sans repeated your name to himself, and his smile grew.
“beautiful. weird, since i don’t usually like the names you humans have.”
“That’s neat. I need to go home.”
“where’s the fire? lets get ta’ know each other.”
Why wont he take the fucking hint! He’s a man, stupid, your brain sneered back to you, a monster, but a man nonetheless. You had to think of something fast so he’d leave you alone.
“My-” your voice was trembling. How pathetic. “My husband is inside that building, and he won’t be happy to see us like this.”
You shoved your hand out and pointed back at your store. Sans’s eyelights slowly followed the direction. As he laid his eye sockets on the building, his smile dimmed, then sharpened around the edges.
Please go away, you screamed on the inside. You were betting on the societal norm of men only ever respecting other men. If he knew you were off the market, maybe he’d lose interest?
He was looking into your eyes again. The way he studied you…there wasn’t the hint of lust he had before, but more like he was trying to figure something out. To your relief, he backed away.
“so, ya weren’t jokin’ when you said you were a local.”
Fuck. In your desperation to make him stop, you’d accidentally told him where he could find you. Sans grinned at you, and gestured towards the end of the street.
“looks like i’ll be seein’ ya around then, seein’ as we’re neighbors.” What? You shot your head out of the alley and stared at the opposing building. Even at this hour, the lights were still on. A glowing sign hung on top of the front entrance; Grilbys’.
“You…own a restaurant?” You asked weakly. Sans shrugged.
“nah, just an investor. same fer’ majority of places in this area.”
That was just great. This skeletal pervert wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon then. Sans shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, and gave you a laid-back smile.
“sorry if i was too forward, sweetheart. if ya need ta’ get back to the old ball and chain, ya should go.”
He…He was really letting you leave? You watched Sans, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to start dragging you deeper into the alleyway…
He wasn’t making any more moves. You at least thought he’d call you some names, but it seemed he was handling the rejection well.
You turned around and started heading towards the door. He called your name just as you were about to go inside.
“i do wanna get ta’ know ya’, sweetheart. the offer for drinks still stands,” he proposed, giving you one more look over, “and…i can offer ya’ even more, if ya’ start gettin’ sick of your man.”
You slammed the door shut once you were safe inside of your quiet store. Your back slumped against it, and you drifted down to the floor. Did all of that really just happen? You’d reached a new level of how terrible your days could go.
You didn’t like that Sans was going to be hanging around your business, but so long as he acted civil there was nothing you could do. Your fingers brushed over your neck, where he had gently grazed the skin. You’d been so frightened…
The space between your thighs was wet. That…umm…
You were on the brink of discovering something new about yourself, something about yourself you wanted nothing to do with. Fuck the cigarrete smell in the morning! Your brain needed another break. Your hand rummaged through your right pocket, searching for your lighter. Not there. You checked the left. Not there either. Fuuuuuck!
You’d probably dropped it outside. There was no way you were going back out there, so it seemed you’d have to find it in the morning.
Your head thumped against the door. If he came by again, you’d have to figure out an excuse for why this ‘husband’ of yours was never around.
“You’re acting awfully chipper tonight, Sans.”
Sans glanced up from his drink to give Grilby a coy smile. Was it that obvious?
“ya could say that,” he quipped, “ya ever been to that little corner store down the street?”
Grilby stopped drying the glass in his hands. Behind his round glasses, the fire monster narrowed his eyes.
“Once, to get to know the area. Though I did not introduce myself to the owner. That store deals with human food and assorted goods. It is not something my monster customers would ever be interested in.”
“what didya’ think of the owner? what was he like?” Sans was a slave to his curiosity. What kind of man lets his wife walk around by herself at night, in an area as shady as this? You were lucky it was only him that you’d come face to face with.
Grilby frowned, “the owner is not a man. She, however, was impressively friendly when speaking to me. She might just be the only human-run business that doesn’t turn away monsters on this side of town.”
Sans couldn’t understand why, but his soul was jumping around listening to Grilby talk about you. He knew you’d been afraid during your meet-cute, and yet you did your best to treat Sans like any other guy. You’d been first to speak, even joked around with him. Not to mention, he found you extremely attractive. He’d really wanted to take you out, and find out more about you…
Why did you have to be married? That gushy-feeling in his chest plummeted, alongside his mood. Here he was, hanging on every word you’d said to him, on the smooth feeling of your skin beneath his carpal bones, and that fucker was getting you all to himself right now. His head fell to the counter, and Grilby watched Sans with mild annoyance.
“You have barely drank anything. Don’t tell me you’re tired?”
“bone-tired, grilbz.”
Sans was conflicted, over a human woman of all things. On one hand, he was elated to know where he could find you during the weekdays. On the other…
Sans hadn’t stopped by that specific store just to go sight-seeing. This ‘husband’ of yours was on his family’s shit list. He owed money, and lots of it. His brother was getting pissy that the guy was somehow managing to avoid all of their lackeys, so Sans went to scope the area out. He knew this Mathew guy was married, just didn’t expect to meet the Mrs. so soon. Why did it have to be you?
Did you even know about the money? You looked so exhausted when Sans first noticed you, like somebody had been sucking the life out of you for years. Maybe you weren’t just scared of him because he was a monster. Maybe you thought he’d come to make yours and your husband's life hell. That, unfortunately, wouldn’t be far from the truth if your man didn’t show up soon to clear his debt.
Sans pulled out the cheap lighter from his pocket, and trailed his finger over the carved design in the center. It was an older brand, with a cowboy riding a horse on it. Didn’t seem like your style. Then again, he didn’t know enough about you to make that judgement.
Yet. He didn’t know enough about you yet. So what if you were married? He could guarantee a fast divorce once your husband's sins finally caught up with him. In the meantime, Sans could get you to warm up to him instead.
Starting by returning your missing lighter. He’s such a gentleman. He was looking forward to seeing the surprise on your face when he stopped by your shop, bright and early, tomorrow morning.