There was always a time for anything.

You hadn't really heard of a time for whatever this was again.

Sans fell asleep on your couch, wrapped up like a burrito in that fuzzy pink blanket. His look was peaceful, serene. You wondered what he was dreaming about, that cute smile plastered hazily on his face.

It was one of those nights, and sleep avoided you like the plague. You kept replaying the day's events in your head over and over and over again. Honestly, it felt like cycling in an exercise machine - you weren't going anywhere with this. Yet it wasn't like you could just stop, could you?

You bit your lip hard.

He kept reassuring you that it was okay, that you hadn't totally rejected him earlier. ( Like seriously. Who makes out with someone, tell them they like them, and then say they aren't fit to date? An asshole, that's who.) Sans spaced himself away from you, only a few inches that still somehow felt a million miles away, and talked with you for a while.

Sans asked you typical, therapist type questions afterwards. Questions that would've been too personal, too close to home. But it was with Sans, he felt more like a home than your stupid bookstore did. ( Don't tell him that, that sounds creepy...)

Were you okay? (No.) How long have you felt like this? (Forever?) Have you ever tried to...? (Of course not.) Did your hand hurt? (A little, just if you moved it wrong.) Did you want to go see someone? (You should, it would just be hard.) You should really go see someone. (You know. It'd just be difficult.) Would you text him, or call him, if you ever felt bad? (You weren't sure, but you'd try. You told Sans that you would though.) Did you want to get something to eat? (Actually, yes. Your appetite had returned with a vengeance.)

You wondered how Sans really felt about it all. He was supportive as all hell, but your excuse sounded like such bullshit...(?) You were telling the truth, but you wished that you had something that sounded more realistic - something less pathetic. Sans deserved that at the very least, right?

The taste of copper started to overwhelm your thoughts.

You had cut your lip open.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your arm against your lip. Sure enough, there was blood. You felt stupid, but it wasn't really worth it to beat yourself about it. There was too many things you could use against yourself already; why do it over something so dumb?

Precisely for the fact that it was stupid.

Was it really healthy for you to be thinking like this? Honestly. You had said what you've said for a reason, it wasn't for you to go back on everything you've said to him.

If you weren't going to get better for yourself, why not do it for Sans? (For your mom.) He obviously cared about you enough to spend the entire day with you. He must've realized that today was hard for you as well, hence why he was spending the night.

Maybe he was just a good person.

Or maybe he genuinely cared about you.

You hoped for the latter. (It was the latter.)

Your laptop stood on your beaten up coffee table, a YouTube video showing up on the screen - completed, showing suggestions for your next video. Sighing, you grabbed it and clicked out of the video, choosing to go to Google and search something.

Therapists near me.

Sans'd be proud of you. Hell. You were sure a lot of people would be proud of you for this. Undyne, Alphys, maybe even Toriel would be...

Without those monsters... You didn't even want to think about where you'd be. You were such a mess right now, how much of a mess were you before Undyne showed up?

You looked on a few different links and sent an email to a counselor who put on his page that he deals with anxieties. Maybe you weren't ill enough to be diagnosed with any true sort of disability, but you knew you weren't okay. You knew that you weren't going to fix this by yourself either.

When was the last time you were okay?

When was the last time you'd felt happy?

Alright, maybe that last one was stretching the truth a little bit. It wasn't like you weren't happy, far from it. Talking to Undyne and Sans made you happy. Reading made you happy. Learning small sign language from Frisk and Toriel made you happy. Papyrus's coffee and spaghetti made you happy. Thinking of mom and dad made you happy, although with a bittersweet edge to it.

All of these things made you happy. So why were you so sad?

All of these things made you happy, yes. But the happiness felt so thin and stretched out between all the moments that weren't.

This isn't okay, you know this. Just get it through your thick skull that you need help. You need help, okay? You. Need. It.

It isn't some bad stage you're dealing with. You've dealt with this for the last... However many years. This isn't some game you're playing; this is your life. Live it happily. Get help, smile again. Kiss Sans again, knowing that you're okay and that he's okay and that life isn't as bad as it seems.

Maybe that's why you rejected Sans.

It was something to make you kick into shape.

If you couldn't recover for yourself, why not do it for Sans? Why not do it for all the other monsters? You knew what the problem was and what the solutions were. It's science, as easy as that.

You wondered what Sans would think of your burst of motivation.

One day, if you kept at it... If you dealt with your issues normally, and you could actually talk to someone alone without wanting to cry... Maybe you could kiss Sans again, feeling like it was fair to both him and yourself.

Your heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute.

This was it.

This is your time.

You don't have to hate yourself anymore.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Oh god.

You'd be okay, you'd be okay! You wouldn't have to feel sad for no reason, at least not as often. You could have a conversation with someone without feeling like they disliked you. You wouldn't have to feel like you were a disappointment, because you knew that you weren't! You could kiss Sans, you could kiss him in a multitude of different ways and he would like you back! You could like him without feeling guilty, without feeling any feelings that he might not like you back (Of course that was bullshit. You could tell he liked you just from the way he talked to you, that sound of softness in his voice.)

You could be okay.

"Oh my god," you said outloud softly, not wanting to wake up the skeleton, "Oh my god!"

"I'm going to be okay," you breathed, leaning into the soft material of your worn couch, "I'll be okay... It's going to be okay. "

It'll take a while, but you were going to recover. You don't have to feel sad anymore, _.

You hadn't noticed it, but tears were streaming down your face like a waterfall. You weren't sad, this was the happiest moment you'd felt in a long time. (Besides from kissing Sans. This day was turning out to be alright, wasn't it?)

You let out a small sob, sounding a mix between laughter and a deep breath of air.

You hadn't noticed it, but your sounds slowly drew Sans out of his slumber.

He opened up his eyes groggily, rubbing them and yawning softly. It was still dark outside, so Sans assumed that something might've gone off or something loud was happening in the apartments outside. He looked for you around the room, not wanting to move out of his comfortable position.

You were there, of course, sitting where you had the first time Sans had stayed over. Leaning against your other couch, laying on the floor. Except this time was different. Your laptop (Plastered with stickers of hearts and special edition book stickers) was on the floor next to you.

Curled up with your knees against your chest, you were taking deep breaths as tears streamed down your face.

Fear instantly seized Sans's heart as he practically teleported next to you, embracing you to the point of squeezing. If he had held any harder, there would likely be bruises on your shoulders.

You froze at first, not expecting Sans to wake up, but slowly eased into his touch. The tears slowed down, but still were flowing down your face.

"kiddo, kiddo," Sans's voice was alert, "are you okay? what happened?"

"S-Sans," you choked out, "I'm okay. I'll be okay."

Sans shook his head, not letting go of you, "this isn't okay, you know that? you're crying so fucking bad, you're shaking. what's wrong? i'm here for you, i can help."

You turned to look at him, smiling shyly, "I sent - I sent an email to a counselor just barely, I think they might-might be able to help me. I don't have to be sad anymore, Sansy. I-I'll be okay. I'll be okay..."

"oh my god," Sans buried his face in your shoulder, "you don't have to be sad ever, _. i'm here for you, undyne's here for you, papyrus's is here for you. i say that a lot, huh? but... i'm a bonehead, you know this."

"you're shaking so badly. are you cold?"

You shook your head softly, wiping away some tears from your face. Sans didn't seem to listen though, as he took off his signature blue jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. It smelt like Sans.

You put it on slowly, feeling instantly comforted just by the warm sensation of the jacket alone.

"Thank you," you said quietly, smiling at the skeleton.

Sans took a deep sigh of relief, looking deep into your shining eyes, "you-you look cute in that."

You smiled wider, "I think you have me beat on the cuteness factor."

He shook his head, "you really had me worried there..."

"I'm sorry."

"don't be. shows that i care about you, huh?"

You leaned into Sans's shoulder, laughing softly. The tears were gone, replaced by a small smile of your's, "I care about you too."

"it's going to be hell knowing i can't kiss you whenever i want."

"...I'm going to get better. For you. For everyone."

"get better for yourself, you're the most important."

You shook your head, "That's the problem, I can't. I won't get better for myself, that's why I've never recovered. As my best friend, along with Undyne, I'm going to get better for both of you. To be a better friend. To be a better person."

"And maybe," you giggled, "A better girlfriend?"

Sans let out a chuckle, "you'd be the best."

"I-I'll be yours," you said shyly, "If you'd want me to be."

Sans nodded, "i want you to be right now. but i want you to feel comfortable with yourself, y'know? however you want me, as a friend or something more, i'll be here. i'll always be here until the day you don't want me anymore."

"I'll always want you."

Sans grabbed your hand and squeezed it, "i'm with you forever i guess, whether you like it or not."

"Sans?"

"yeah, kiddo?"

"Thank you."

Sans nodded and chuckled, "anything for you."

"I'm happy I spilt a bottle of ketchup on us, however embarrassing that was for me."

"are you getting ketchup on old memories?" Sans teased.

You laughed again, "If you mustard ask, I'd say I was."

The skeleton hummed a note of approval, "i relish the time i've spent with you."

"It hasn't turned sourcrout," you laughed at your bad excuse for a joke, "That one was forced."

"i'm not sure, it seemed a little mild to me," Sans shrugged.

"Are you talking about salsa?"

"yes."

"Why?"

"because you're extra spicy to me."

"Do skeletons have taste buds?"

"of course. do you think i'd drink ketchup if i didn't?"

"Then how do you taste? Do you have tongues?"

"i think you know damn well if skeletons have tongues."

You blushed and laughed out loudly, an ugly sounded and uncontained laugh, "You're awful."

"you're a skeleton lover. guess we both have our downfalls."

Shaking your head, you went to whisper to Sans, "I'm not a skeleton lover."

" I'm a Sans lover. "

You turned away to get a glimpse of Sans's face - a look of surprise with blushing, bright, blue blushing. You giggled softly.

"I had to."

Sans, after a few moments of taking in what you said, narrowed his eyes at you playfully, "you think you're funny."

"I think you think I'm hilarious," you teased, "Don't I have quite the funny bone?"

The skeleton rolled his eye sockets, "come here, kiddo."

He brought you in for another hug, squeezing you softly. It felt like he tried to say something without words in it, but all you could comprehend was how nice and comfortable you felt.

"do you know what time it is?" Sans said as he let go of you.

You turned to look at your clock, "Almost three, I think."

"you tired?"

Yawning, you proved Sans's point, "A little."

"let's go to bed."

Sans and you climbed back onto your small couch, just barely wide enough to fit both of you in. Sans noticed the pink blanket and laughed a bit as he pulled it over your bodies. It smelt like Sans, the glorious smell of him. Not even his cologne as much, but just him. Maybe you could convince him to stop wearing it as often.

You leaned into Sans's chest, boney but still oddly warm, and went out like a light. Sans ran his fingers through your hair softly as your breathing started to turn more steady.

And throughout it all, Sans's jacket was safely placed on you the entire time.

Sans thought you looked cuter in it than he ever could've.

The question was if he could convince you to wear it more often.