Whatever caused Helen to run away brought him back with sagging feet. He sat silently on the bed, eyes flickering as he seemed to debate his words. Sans didn't dare to rush him.

"So you... you know what I am? And you're... okay with it?" Helen asked.

Sans nodded. A quiet, long nod.

"Okay. That's weird." Helen stared for a moment. "Why?"

"Why am I okay with it?" Sans asked. "Uh... I don't know how to explain it. I have a fucked up justice system, I guess?"

Seemed so. Sans always thought he was a straightforward dude once upon a time. Thought he was a good person. But he should have known better. He wasn't good. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't someone who protected the innocent. No, he opened his home to serial killers like some lunatic. Sans never was fully sane, it looked like. Whatever good he started with was torn away by Gaster and Flowey, so he was nothing but a hollow shell when Frisk tried what they had successfully attempted.

Flowey. It's been a while since he thought about him. Sans really should make sure he hasn't been up to anything.

"Okay."

Helen quietly rubbed his hands together. It wasn't particularly cold that day.

"If I had an amazing explanation, I'd give it to you." Like resets, experiments, and taking his own Father's life as a child and thus growing up with a fucked up view of murder while he was forced to become a judge of people. "Sorry, bud. Got nothing. I just am okay with it. Are you okay with it?"

Helen looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I guess," Helen whispered, "I guess, I'd say. Are you - right."

Sans snorted. "It's weird, yeah. I've noticed that in you guys. You all seem to get this thought in your minds that you're alone, and then when you realize you aren't you freak out a bit. Comfort in familiarity, I guess."

There was comfort in familiarity. Sans sure did know that. As horrible as the resets were, he wasn't even sure if he could continue past them when they did end. It was a scary thought at the time.

"How does that even work? You being with them?" Helen asked.

Leaning back, Sans spoke. "Well, it's a polyamorous relationship, so a lot of communication and honesty. We set our rules and boundaries. It wasn't fantastic at first. I jumped into it because I thought I had to keep him there. I just... I just needed someone to be stuck with me, who couldn't betray me. I needed that at that time. So now I have Bean. And we made it work for her. Then we kept making it work because, well, we liked it."

"But... it's Laughing Jack. How?"

Sans' expression softened.

"He's cute - in his own way. He likes my jokes. He's an awesome Dad to Bean. He makes me smile and he's genuine. He can be a hell of a protector for me and he was just... there when I needed him. And when I - fuck, when I look at Laughing Jack and he says 'Comic Sans, you're worth something', I can believe it for once in my life. You know?"

"Yeah. I know."

Sans felt his soul warm up at the thought of his boyfriend. He loved that guy. So damn much.

Helen looked so sad when Sans glanced over at him. Close but distant. As if he'd crumble into himself if Sans slightly shouted. As if love itself was a sensitive topic.

"I also live with Toby and Clockwork."

Helen winced.

Yep. There it was.

"I'm guessing those clothes - the white ones were hers, weren't they? They're Judge Angels."

Toby told Sans the basic story after their family meeting. Toby and Clockwork were friends with Judge Angels and her boyfriend. Judge Angels was killed one day, and after the fallout, they lost contact with the boyfriend. Helen was likely the boyfriend.

"Yes."

Helen looked like he was going to throw up.

Sans, understanding this probably wasn't the best time, didn't poke nor prod. Best to keep things simple for now. And what was more simple than a simple-ass baby?

"Do you want to go let Bean outside for a bit?" Sans asked. "I think she'll like the grass. The rain stopped. We should let her go out and play. Come on. She likes to crawl between people and that means I need two. Want to be my second? You'd be helping a lot."

"Are you sure?"

Sans offered a wide smile. "Of course. I know what I want."

It took some time to get Helen fully outside. When they did step out from the glass front door into the warm sunlight, his blue eyes squinted, pale and slim hand slapped up to block out the sun. Sans shuffled forward, feeling the plush and slightly wet grass press against his bare feet. A whisper of wind carried through the trees.

There, in the wet grass, Sans settled. No point in caring for his clothes anyways. Helen seemed to carry the same mindset, as he didn't bother to even check for mud before he too was sitting down. His shoulders were sluggish as he sat, as if half aware of his surroundings. Yet, despite that, he seemed to jolt whenever the wind blew too harshly.

"Helen."

And Helen looked. Despite Sans supposedly being his prisoner, Helen listened to Sans so easily. Sans really could leave now if that damn magical restraint wasn't on there. And it was pretty clear the Puppeteer hid it from both Sans and Helen alike. Since Helen didn't seem to be the captain of this ship he was riding along.

"There aren't any CreepyPasta here right now. It's just you and me. And Bean. There's no need to be on edge or be stressed." Sans said, leaning forward to set down Bean. She babbled, patting the ground before making her way towards Helen in a quick crawl.

"Okay."

He didn't seem to believe it.

Sans pulled down his shirt, trying to keep himself moderately covered. Next time he finished having sex he was going to get fully dressed. Or maybe he should try not to get kidnapped. He also liked that thought.

He felt like a shitty Father. Bean got kidnapped because he wanted to bone. Wasn't that his fault? He knew Bean didn't like being too far from him but he thought she'd manage to adapt to him not being there. Sans couldn't take these risks when she could use magic but couldn't understand why she shouldn't.

No. This wasn't his fault. Challenge these thoughts, he had to do that. Trying to manage a daughter who couldn't sleep and could teleport multiple times a day was a challenge for anyone. This was the Puppeteer's fault for kidnapping them. Sans had to learn from this mistake and improve.

"What's that?" Helen asked.

"What?"

As Bean crawled onto Helen's lap, Sans stared questioningly at the human. The human motioned towards Sans' chest, which was now revealed from the oversized, baggy shirt he was wearing.

Right, the scar.

"It's just a scar. Don't worry about it," Sans said, waving his hand. The cool air felt nice against it and he'd rather keep that feeling.

"No. I mean that next to your... in there."

Helen pointed a finger, lightly gesturing towards Sans' chest. Sans glanced down, wondering if something got caught inside before he noticed his summoned soul. Something that sometimes happened naturally. Monsters were creatures of emotions. Souls were easier to summon for them in times of stress or joy or simple bonding.

Or, in this case, if something was attached to it.

It took Sans a moment to realize what it was. Bean's soul was white, so it was easy to tell the little soul floating within his ribcage. This one, though, was jarringly a bright orange color turned the opposite way of Bean's when he was pregnant with her. The little tiny spec of color hovering next to his soul.

"Oh. I'm pregnant," Sans said as if he didn't believe it himself.

And he didn't. Not until he blinked and stared, because that was a soul, and it was next to his, and it was a baby and it was his.

"Oh. Congratulations." Helen seemed just as caught off guard as Sans was, gently twisting Bean around to crawl back towards Sans.

"Holy shit, I'm pregnant!"

Sans frantically waved his hands about, unsure exactly how to express his emotions in this weird fucked situation he was stuck inside of. Should he talk to Helen about it more? Keep his mouth shut? Because mother of god, he was pregnant and having another kid and it was happening. This was real. Jane and Sans were having a kid now.

And he was here. Away from everyone he wanted to share the good news with. Stuck in a greenhouse eating canned fruit and trying to help this guy not wither into a pile of ash on the floor.

What a mood killer.

One more day. Just one more day, then Sans would go home. He had to wait this out. Not a good time to take his chances trying to escape now that he was pregnant.

"It's, uh, me and Jane's. We were trying for one," Sans explained, trying to keep down his giddy grin as he scratched his cheekbone. "So yeah. I'm pregnant."

"Oh." Helen looked away. "That's good, that's very good. Yes. Good."

Sans really should find out he was pregnant at different times.

This was awkward. Incredibly awkward. They both sat in silence, Sans both happy and unsure with this news and Helen quiet. Of course, he was, Sans was a stranger and Helen already felt guilty about Sans being here. Now he learned that Sans was pregnant and he probably felt even more guilty.

Lord was this situation complicated. Sans had just wanted to be home experiencing this wonderful news. Instead, he was here. Trying to stay happy but also trying to figure out how the fuck to help Helen. Because Helen did need help, and the Puppeteer was trying, but in his own ignorant way. And Sans couldn't stay here to help him, he had to go back home. He had one baby and was pregnant with another.

"I'm sorry."

And there he was, crying. Helen sobbed, wiping frantically at his tears as if trying to hide the obvious evidence of his emotional state.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want this, this is my fault," He sobbed, hiccuping as he continued to try and stop the tears.

"Helen, it's not."

Helen didn't listen. And he probably couldn't, not when he was crying frantically like he just lost everything all over again. His hands were soaked already, and Helen hunched over, trying to hide the difficult-to-understand feelings that continued to plague him for so long.

Sans, without any words, stood up. He gently grasped Bean on his way over to Helen, and when he reached the crying man, he sat down. Pulled down his head to rest on Sans' shoulder.

And, while he sobbed, they just sat.

In complete silence, only for the occasional sob and hiccup to cut through the air.

~~~~~~

He's dead.

Dead as in dead. Dead as in Tim, a man who saw many corpses, was staring at a new one. The corpse in question wasn't someone he was particularly fond of. Quite the opposite. Offenderman was, by all accounts, a creep who deserved to die. Tim wasn't too surprised to find that someone finally got tired of his shit and ended it all. Other than his roses which were rather useful for extracting truthful information, he didn't have many uses. He wasn't bound to last longer.

But the way he died was what scared Tim. He didn't see it. No, but he saw the way that man dragged in his body. And he very much recognized the tall person who should be in a box dragging that body along.

And so, without any breath, he dropped the corpse. The squishing sound of blood filled the air, making Tim wince.

"Where's your boss."

No question. That was an order. Tim didn't take orders from anyone else. But damn was that a man who challenged that belief. So he pointed. A long, desperate point. Hoping that whatever fucked up conversation Laughing Jack needed to have with Slenderman was long enough for Tim to run to safety.

There were no thanks. Only a slight nod before he disappeared just as fast as he arrived. Leaving Tim to stare at the dead man on the ground with a slight shiver in his body. 

《》《》《》

Someone in the comments section last chapter: So what about that whole pregnancy thing?

Me, who prewrites chapters weeks before they are published, sweating as I stare at this chapter: Um -

How dare you predict my story you absolute fool lol