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"(Y/N)?" Toriel called out.
Your head perked up like a child on Christmas night, thinking they heard Santa's footsteps downstairs. Or, rather, Sansta's. Heh.
"You can see him now. He's recovering just fine,"
A sigh escaped your lips, relief washing over your body. "Thanks, Tori. For calling up the best healers and for making sure he's fine,"
"Oh, it's my pleasure, my child!" she smiled. "The doctors said he'd be good to go in two days so that's definitely good news. Now come on in. Your husband needs you,"
Pacing up to the door to his room, you felt excitement overcome you as you began to turn the knob to the door. Remembering your manners, you looked back at Toriel and gave her one more smile.
"Again. Thank you. So much," you said wholeheartedly.
"Anything for my so-called children!"
Hands growing impatient, you began to push through the entrance when Toriel told you to hold on.
"The doctors had to use a spell on him so that he can recover easily. He may be a tad bit too... much. Deereh left a second ago, busting his guts,"
Your raised an eyebrow, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Her only response was a knowing giggle, covering her mouth to trap her laughter. "You'll know it when you see it. Have fun, my child!"
She left without another word, not even bothering to look back at you. She thought you couldn't hear it but you caught her snicker and her mumbling to herself that you'd be in for a treat. Toriel acted childish in her own way, a trait you noticed in years of knowing her. And this was one of the qualities that dearly annoyed you so. Shrugging, you pushed your way into the room, finding Sans contemplating on a half-eaten cracker in his hand.
Sans the Skeleton.
Yup. That's your husband.
You've been married with him for more than two years and you couldn't be happier. You've been the same lovesick couple you were five years ago, pulling pranks on each other, exchanging puns to no end and sending kisses to each other whether it be physical or air mailed. Your SOULs were just meant for each other, broken but fitting the other so perfectly that you couldn't bare to say "no" when Sans asked you to be his. You both vowed to take care of each other to the end and you willingly strived to keep your end on the promise.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that Sans had shown signs of falling down like the monsters Alphys encountered in the Underground. Unlike theirs which was sudden and fast, his was slow and agonizing. You called up Toriel as she is one of the best healers in monster-kind. Admitting she couldn't do it alone, she sought help with other best healers (now known as doctors on the Surface) to conduct the spell. His predicament was a consequence of him being too hard on himself way before he met you. It caused damage to his SOUL and, being his SOULmate and your SOULs being one in union of marriage, you can't help but feel it, too. Yes, you did patch him up just as he did to you. But the consequence still stands and, if not dealt with, might take both you and Sans away.
Seeing him on the hospital bed now, the fears, worry and anxiety you felt and that built up the past few weeks seemingly melted away in an instant. You thought it would be over for him. For both of you. You spent the previous days hanging out with people close to your heart just in case something goes wrong. Because if he dies, you will, too.
But it was alright. He's alright. In fact, he looked a little... loopy, should you say? He'd been staring at the cracker forever, unaware of your presence.
Holding back the cool, happy tears in your eyes, you reached out to his phalenges and flashed him the happiest and sweetest smile you can muster. He looked up to you and...
Holy Asgore. He's giving you that look again. The look when he first met you. The look on the morning you accepted his proposal. The look he gave you on your wedding day. Yes, that adorable, blank, dumb look that looked like he saw an angel.
You gulped, feeling majority of your blood smooth over your cheeks or running in circles of flurry in your circulatory system. Speak up, you dang idiot, you mentally slapped yourself.
"Hiya, Sansy," you cooed.
He took one deep breath as if taking in the sight before his eyes. At least he's not staring at that stupid cracker anymore.
"D-Did... Did the doctors send you?" he asked.
You nodded enthusiastically, your smile widening.
Whistling blissfully, he sighed. "Man, I got to put you on my to-do list,"
THAT. DOES IT. Your insides felt like goo and your body could melt at any second. You giggled in embarrassment, refusing to let your husband see you now red-stained face. One minute in and he was already teasing you. Just classic.
Sans simply ignored your action, running his hand down his face like he won he lottery or something. You saw the familiar blue tint paint across his colorless face that was reserved only for you.
"Whoooaaaa..." he exhaled.
You giggled again, rubbing your thumb on his skull. "What? What is it?"
He suddenly pulled up his covers in shame and groaned, clearly flustered. You heard him chuckle giddily and you began to question what spell did the doctors use exactly to make him act this way. You could've mistaken him for someone high in drugs if you were strangers.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've met," Sans mumbled under the covers.
"Awww... Sans," your blush getting worse.
He pulled down his covers to his chin and took a peek of you. Gosh, did he look adorable. You wished you could take a picture of him right away and change your home screen background.
"Who are you? What's your name?"
Oh.
OH.
He was playing this game, wasn't he? He could never hide that playful sparkle in his eye sockets. He was teasing you and you knew it. Any person would've fallen for the bait but you knew better. This is your husband and you knew every detail about him in the years you've been together. Welp. At least he was out of his pun game.
You decided to play along, though, bracing yourself for more compliments to make your heart beat faster.
"My name is (Y/N). I'm your wife," you beamed.
A dramatic gasp echoed the room as your husband slightly sat up. "YOU ARE?!"
"Yeah," At this point, you can't hide your laughter.
"We're married?!" Sans exclaimed.
You nodded again, confirming your answer. Yes, you're married to him and you're proud of it.
Sans flopped back down on the bed and covered his now blueberry colored face. You heard the muffled laugh escaping his hands, making your face hurt from smiling ear-to-ear.
"Oh my stars..." he breathed. "Dang..."
He opened on of his eyelids and created a small opening through his fingers to look at you.
"How long?"
"Drop the act and eat your stupid cracker, sweetie," you smirked. Your face was aching from smiling but you never got tired of it.
However, he didn't drop the act and he still didn't finish that dang cracker flailing in his fingers. In fact, he was getting more stubborn and- Wait. Was that a mischievous glare you caught? You swore under your breath if he's got any ideas-
"Do we have kids?" he asked.
"OH. MY. GOSH, BABE," you flinched. "Stop teasing me and eat the darn cracker!"
Of all the things he decided to bring up, it had to be this. You had been planning to have a child and you would've been pregnant with your first by now if it weren't for the unfortunate and unexpected dilemma. He got this look that practically screamed 'Not too late, baby,'. Geez, you hated that you smiled shyly at that.
"Alright..."
He was about to take a bite when the idiotic clod paused and looked at you in the eye again.
"Have we kissed yet?"
"Saaaaaaaans..." you whined.
"But I really want to be kissed right now and the doctors said I'd recover three times faster if I had physical affection..." he begged.
"Honey-"
"Pleeeeeease? Pretty plleeeeeeeaaaaaseeeee???"
Darn it. You can't say no to your man. And to that stupid, stupid adorable face.
You stepped closer beside him and bent down, pressing your lips against his. It was then when you realized you hadn't kissed him in about two weeks and, oh, how you missed kissing him like this. You almost forgot how it feels; like you both were puzzle pieces finally fitting together, revealing the picture of your love as you complete each other. You were about to pull away when his hand ran up your back, through your hair and pushed your head back down against him, getting you deeper into the kiss. If you hadn't stopped in the next minute, he would've pulled you in bed with him and have one heck of a make out session. Papyrus, being the innocent blob he is, would not appreciate that.
As both of you trying to catch up with your breath, he slid his hand down to your cheek, cupping it gently as if you were made of glass. His smirk finally turned into a sincere smile. Gosh, how he missed you terribly. How he missed your kisses, giggles, laughs and cooking. He can't wait to get back to his home and finally cuddle in bed with you and wake up to find you right beside him. He wished you knew how much he loved you but the action itself can't be put into words perfect enough.
His fingers intertwining with yours, he brought it up to his skele-lips, as you'd like to call it, and pecked it multiple times. He chuckled, seeing you soften at his touch.
Once more, the childish gleam in his eye returned, not determined enough to drop his silly little act.
"Remind me. How long we've been married?" Sans mumbled.
You proudly smiled at him. "Two years and a half, babe,"
He pulled his skull back and groaned, his wide smile making you laugh. "Holy stars. I've hit the jackpot,"
"Eat your cracker, you nugget," you giggled.
"Hey, I'm feeling light-headed right now and I can't seem to have enough appetite to down it. How about we share it? Tastes good," you husband winked.
"SAAAANSS!!!"
He then doubled over with laughter, taking amusement from your outburst. Oh, you were so getting back when he comes back home. The prank war has finally resumed.