AN: FINALLY! THIS IS FINALLY UP! I am sooooo so so so so so soooooooooo sorry that this took so long. Jeez its been months.. I've just been struggling so hard with my writing lately and finding inspiration and I just kept pushing it off.. I still dont know if I'm completely happy with it but you guys deserve a new chapter and I've been working on it long enough. A part of me thinks I just wanted to keep you in anticiptation longer. I'm cruel like that. Anyway, I hope its okay and I hope you guys are still with me on this journey I'm on.

Chapter Ten: Exactly Where You'd Like Me

The room was stiff and silent for a moment as everything processed in Frisk's brain. She'd pressed herself up against the door, on the verge of hyperventilating as the lamp on table beside the dingy bed was flipped on, the room casted in light. Sans seemed more ominous than he had early that night and a soft whimper escaped her again. She dug her fingernails into the brown carpet as if that could save her as soon as the man took a few more steps toward her. There was a disturbing smirk on his face as he did so, the look making her quake with fear. Silent tears streamed down her face and she bit the inside of her lip to stop it from quivering. She was trying to be strong. She really was.

"Come on now, kitten," he cooed to her, unzipping his jacket and tossing it on the bed. "I haven't got all night now. Why don't you stand up and strip for me."

Those few sentences made her feel sick, bile rising up in her throat but she swallowed it. Her hands began to shake and she pressed her back further against the door, trying so desperately to get away from him. With each step he took toward her, she held her breath, her chest beginning to ache from the lack of air.

"Are you deaf, girl?" he demanded, now close enough to her that if he were to reach out, he could touch her. "I paid good money for this." He dropped down into a crouching position just to be closer to her and grabbed her shoulders. "I told you to strip."

Unable to help it, she let out a scream and started to sob, thrashing in his grasp. There was creaking from outside the door, footsteps echoing in the hallway that got softer and softer with each passing second. That's when Sans broke his hold on her.

"Okay, okay, they're gone. You can calm down now." He stayed crouched in front of her, his eyes gentle now instead of piercing and the tightness in the air seemed to ease. "Just breathe normally. I'm not going to hurt you."

Frisk continued to hyperventilate, confusion in her now puffy eyes. If he wasn't going to hurt her, what was with the act? Why was he here in the first place? Why did he pay money to have her locked in this room with him?

"I'm sorry I scared you. There were guards outside.. The only way to make them go away was to convince them something unholy was going down in here. They're reporting back to Flowey. He has to be convinced I had sex with you," he whispered, the tone of his voice indicating he was telling the truth, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. If you calm down, I'll answer them all."

The poor girl couldn't stop crying as she watched him stand up and walk back to his jacket, lifting it from the bed only to drape it over her shoulders. When she finally got ahold of her voice she whispered, "What do you want from me..?" She slid her arms through the arm holes and zipped up the zipper, the already warm material easing the chill from her skin. The room was silent again as Sans searched for an answer to satisfy her question. He didn't really want anything from this girl. Nothing ominous anyway. He just wanted the knowledge that she wasn't with someone who was going to rape her and toss her aside like a piece of trash. He knew what these girls went through every night. He knew the entire history of this little club and he didn't want that for Frisk.

"Look kid, when I met you earlier, you seemed like a sweet girl but there's no way you're any older than fifteen or sixteen. When I heard that fucker talking about putting you on stage, it made me sick. These other girls.. they made the decision to be here. They made the decision to do this. You were put through this against your will and I couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you. I just couldn't. So I pulled him aside before he could get to you and offered a reasonable price. I don't want anything from you except maybe your friendship. Just knowing you're safe for now is enough for me." He sat down on the bed, cracking a little smile at her and patted the spot beside him. "Do me a favor, would ya and get off the floor?"

Frisk seemed satisfied with his answer, the trust she felt from earlier coming back to her. If he was going to do something, he would have already. She stood from her place on the ground and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. A wide range of emotions were racing through her and she couldn't decide which was more prominent. She remained quiet, reminding herself to breath every couple of seconds so she wouldn't pass out.

"You're wearing your betrayal on your face like a halloween mask," Sans whispered, putting his arm around her.

"Hm?" She looked up, her eyes clouded with confusion.

"You're mad at him aren't you? Mettaton? For dragging you into this, right? You shouldn't be. I know this current situation sucks, but where would you be right now if he hadn't taken you in that night? He really did just want to save you. That's kind of what he does."

"How do you know all that? About me and Mettaton?"

"You mean other than the fact that I'm in here every night? My brother is a guard here. The tall, dorky one that took you to the suite on your first night here."

"You mean Papyrus?" she asked with bright eyes, a new wave of relief washing over her. If Sans knew Papyrus, he couldn't be that bad. Papy was so sweet to her when they first met and even now he made an effort to greet her every day and always asked if she needed anything.

"Yep. He would belong to me. He may be a handful at times but he's my brother and I love him." It was quiet for a long moment before Frisk found her voice again.

"What did you mean when you said 'that's kind of what he does' about Mettaton?"

Sans adjusted his body so he was sitting directly in front of her. "What? You think this place was always the shithole it is today? Just a few years ago it was a halfway house for runaway teens. These girls you see everyday? They were once just like you. Mettaton ran away when he was sixteen, a year after his mother died in some car crash. He was in the car with her or something. I don't know that whole story. It's apparently a pretty touchy subject. Anyway, when she died, he inherited a lot of money. She was this big shot defense lawyer and she had A LOT but his dad wasn't going to let him see a dime. Man was apparently a wreck after she died and turned into an abusive prick. It's not that big of a shock that he ran away. He did a lot of things he's not proud of after that. Prostitution, theft.. you name it, he did it to get by. That was until his sister found him again and gave him his share of the inheritance. He used it to buy this place and started taking in girls who were down on their luck. They each came with their own talents and he tutored them, turning this place into a burlesque club. It used to be an old hotel so it wasn't hard. The girls had the old rooms for themselves and the money they made doing their shows was their own form of income. It gave their hopeless looking lives meaning again but running this kind of business isn't cheap. He was behind on the bills and about to get evicted when Flowey swooped in to the rescue. Giving this place up was the hardest decision he'd ever had to make. The moment he took over, Flowey turned it into what you see today. He has like three different locations besides this one that he runs too. He gave each of the girls a choice and those who wanted out took what they had and left. Those who couldn't bare the streets again stayed and continue to subject themselves to the same humiliation every Thursday through Sunday. Mettaton already blames himself. Try not to be too hard on him."

The whole time Sans talked, Frisk could feel her heart breaking. He'd tried to protect her from this the whole time while still trying to give her a home. He'd risked his own skin for her to feel warm, fed and loved and here she was blaming him for this. He'd only done what he thought was best for his girls. How could she be mad at him? She decided that she couldn't be and was anxious to get back and let him know that she was okay and that no harm had come to her that night. Heavy footsteps echoed softly down the hall and Sans immediately went on guard. He slid his jacket off of Frisk and threw it haphazardly on the ground, quickly unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the ground as well.

"Do you trust me?" he asked in a hushed tone, gently clasping her shoulders. When she nodded, he quickly unzipped her dress, having to rip it to get it off of her and tossed it on the floor, pushing her backward on the bed. "I need you to put your acting skills to work. Curl up as tightly as you can. Pretend to cry. They have to think I fucked you, remember? Quickly."

"No..." She whimpered, not having to pretend to cry because the tears were already there. "Don't let them take me, Sans... Not again... Please!"

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, letting her tears tumble only for the sake of her appearance. He hated that she was so scared. He understood why but he wished there was more he could do. "I won't let them hurt you, sweetheart. That's a promise. Now do what I said."

Her whole body shook as she curled into herself, digging her nails into the sheets and clinging to the bed. Sans sat up in the bed beside her, no longer touching her. She couldn't see his face but just having him near her made this whole thing less traumatic. Her hair and makeup were a wreck and her clothes were misshapen and torn. The scenery screamed that she'd been taken advantage of. She shut her eyes tightly, sending up prayers to whatever god was watching over her that this would all be over soon and no further harm would come to her tonight just as the door creaked open, casting a little sliver of light over the floor. Her time was up.