Crushing disappointments
“right, son. and speaking of crushing disappointments-”
“Sans, no!” Elbowing him in the ribs, you ignore the way he pouts at you, your son staring up at the both of you with big eye-sockets. “You did wonderfully, Roman.”
“No, I didn't!” Okay. So he's a lot more upset than you thought he was. You give Sans a side-eyed glare, and if the way he winces is any indication he knows he's in for it later tonight, he knows he fucked up.
Falling to your knees you give Roman what you like to think is your most comforting smile, placing your hands on his arms. He shoves his way out of your grasp with a whine and you sigh, knowing he's just being upset, that's all. Letting your arms fall back down beside you, you continue to smile.
“Please don't hate me.” He's looking away from you, gaze downcast as he fidgets, phalanges pulling on a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.
“Where’d this come from?” You bring a hand up to raise his gaze to meet yours, noticing the tears in his eye-sockets. You draw him close, stroking his skull and fighting the urge to punch whoever it was that made your baby cry.
Right now that somebody seems like a certain skeleton you're married to.
For now.
“Ella said I was a mistake.”
Oh.
Oh, really?
Pulling away from him as he wipes away a stray tear, you look past Roman to see said little girl holding hands with her politician of a father as she ever so ‘gracefully’ accepts first place. “She did?”
He nods, and suddenly it clicks. Why he's been so on edge lately, why you found him crying himself to sleep the other night, why he's been so sensitive when it comes to Sans’ expectations.
If you weren't so pissed at Sans right now you'd tell him to watch Roman while you left to go give Mr. Senator over there a good punch to his jaw. While flinging his daughter out a window.
“Sans,” picking up Roman - he's so light - and letting him wrap his arms around your neck, you turn to your husband and ignore the fear in his eyes. “Isn't that the senator that's been advocating against monster rights?”
“huh?” looking slightly relieved you're not about to tear him a new one for pressuring your son into doing a science fair he obviously didn't want to do, he looks past you and the lights of his eyes narrow as his face becomes drawn, smile forced. “oh. so it is.”
You desperately want to tell him what his daughter said to your son, but you decide it can wait, especially since said son is already upset. The look Sans is giving you is evident in how much he wants to dunk on them right now but you shake your head, rubbing gentle circles against your son's back.
“Let's go home.”
You really hope Mr. Senator over there doesn't mind getting his house egged.