despite the world, universe, and every force in existence telling me not to write this and work on my other fics, i wrote it anyways.
now, i don't know how foster care works, but i've researched quite a bit and i'll continue to do so throughout this fic.
basically, the story here, is that everyone is human, except frisk hallucinates everyone to be some kind of monster.
enjoy, nerds.
Sans knocked on the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and wiggling them around in the mittens that adorned them. It was snowy outside, the streets freshly cleaned so cars could drive through smoothly.
There was a bit of shuffling from inside, followed by hushed murmurs and laughs. Then the door swung open, and Toriel stared down at him. She was dressed in her usual attire—a long blue and white dress that complimented her dark skin and hair, her bright eyes contrasting greatly. Sans grinned up at her, saluting playfully.
"Hey, Tori," he greeted, and then glanced behind her to see a pair of small hands gripping at her dress. "Did ya get approved?"
Toriel's eyes lit up and she nodded excitedly. "Yes! They just arrived yesterday!"
Toriel stepped aside to let Sans inside, and then closed the door behind him. Sans watched as Toriel patted a head of wavy brown hair, gently pushing the owner in front of her. "Do not be shy, now, dear," she said softly.
The child hesitantly stepped forward, fiddling with their fingers and looking up at Sans with mismatched eyes from behind their long bangs. Their legs and knees were littered with bruises and bandages, as well as one across their freckled nose.
Sans looked up at Toriel.
"They like to run around," she quickly explained, patting the child's shoulder. "Quite an energetic child."
Sans knelt down in front of the child and patted their head with a grin. "Hey, kiddo," he said, careful not to startle them. "Glad to have ya here." He tilted his head to look at them in the eyes. "You have pretty cool eyes, huh? Brown and blue—pretty rad."
The child looked embarrassed, and they cracked a tiny smile.
"For a while I didn't think you'd get approved," Sans said to Toriel, standing up and looking up at her. "Ya know, with..." His voice trailed off, and he immediately regretted saying anything.
Toriel's hand clenched at her dress, and she just nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as she smiled sadly. "Yes, I know..." she sighed, and patted the child's cheek. "Come along now, say hello to your Uncle Sans."
The child blinked in confusion, and Sans laughed, "'Uncle Sans'?"
"I think it fits," Toriel teased.
Sans scoffed, and then bent down to look at the child closely. "So what's your name, kiddo?"
The child took a deep breath, clenching their fists, and stumbled over a few syllables before finally managing to say, "F-Frisk."
"'Frisk', huh? Cool," he said with a small nod. He looked up at Toriel. "So how long did it take for you to—"
"Are you a skeleton?"
At the sudden question, both Sans and Toriel looked over at Frisk, who was staring at Sans with their head cocked to the side. Frisk's face was genuinely curious, and they blinked a few times.
"...Huh?" Sans stammered, and then raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not a skeleton."
"Yes you are!" Frisk persisted. "You're a skeleton! I can see you!"
Sans looked up at Toriel with a panicked look, silently asking her what he should say. Toriel bit her lip and grabbed Sans by the arm, pulling him away from Frisk and into the next room. Frisk looked confused by their departure, but shrugged it off and hopped in front of the TV.
"Wha—Tori?"
"There is one other reason why I was allowed to act as Frisk's foster parent," Toriel said with a sigh, leaning on the counter in the kitchen. "There were not many applicants who wanted a child with their... disorder."
"...'Disorder'?"
"Schizophrenia," Toriel replied, running her fingers through her hair. "They have schizophrenia. It is rather severe as well, to the point of hallucinations. So that is why Frisk sees you as a skeleton." She frowned, her eyebrow pinched together. "Though, I am not sure what causes this schizophrenia. The doctors said that it most likely does not stem from an abusive household, and I do not know why Frisk hallucinates people as other things."
"...Huh," Sans murmured, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So nobody wanted a kid with schizo'?"
"I am afraid not," Toriel replied. "It is ridiculous. Frisk is a wonderful child! Even if they are a bit... problematic at times."
"Everyone just wants the perfect white kid who gets good grades and has no problems," Sans said with a laugh. "But ya gotta just take what ya got."
"Mm," Toriel agreed with a nod. "But, I am certain these hallucinations do not last forever. They are sporadic, and I am not sure how to help with them."
"Frisk seems to be handlin' it just fine," Sans said, nudging his head in the direction of said child, who was getting excited over a program on TV.
"I suppose..."
"Why a skeleton, though?" Sans scoffed, and then there was a twinkle in his eye. "I guess it's because I'm... bad to the bone."
The two laughed, Toriel harder than she should have. She wiped at her eyes and grinned. "You know what Frisk sees me as?" she asked, and when Sans shook his head, said, "Some kind of goat creature!"
"I—wow, really?" Sans managed between snickers. "Maybe it's because... they're your kid?"
The two burst into laughs again.
"Mom?" Frisk's voice piped up from the living room.
Toriel turned around, surprised, and excused herself before walking over to them, kneeling down and patting their head. "Is something wrong dear?"
"I can call you that, right?" Frisk mumbled sheepishly, "Or... is that not allowed?"
"No, no, it is quite alright!" Toriel assured, and then felt herself smile. "Would that make you happy? To call me... Mom?"
Frisk hesitantly nodded, shifting in place a bit.
"Well, then you may call me that all you like!"
Sans leaned against the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room with a grin, watching the exchange between Toriel and Frisk as they excitedly told her about the program they were watching. She really was meant to be a mother—everything that had happened wasn't fair. She didn't deserve any of it.
None of them did.
Frisk noticed Sans watching them and waved their hand happily. "Skeleton man, watch this with me and Mom!" they exclaimed, their eyes sparkling as they blew a strand of hair out of their face.
"Alright, alright," Sans chuckled, putting up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sans the skeleton is coming." He walked over to them, sitting down and ruffling the kid's hair, earning a smile.
He took out his phone from his pocket, ignoring the way Frisk watched him type.
- papyrus im gonna be home late
- WHAT? WHY!
Sans glanced down at Frisk and flashed them a grin.
- tori got approved
- OH! WELL IN THAT CASE THEN I'LL COME OVER TOO!
Sans rolled his eyes.
- I SHALL BRING EVERYONE ELSE ALONG!
Uh oh.
"Hey, uh, Tori?"
"Hm?"
"Does Frisk get nervous around large groups of people?"
"...Well, I am not sure. I suppose they may be shy around new people. Why do you ask?"
"Papyrus is bringing everyone over."
"Oh dear."
this is just the beginning, nerds. there's gonna be a LOT more.
buckle up, yo. we're in for a wild ride.
