WOO YEAH! FINALLY! Chapter twenty. Here it is. I hope you all enjoy and all that jazz! I know this chapter is a little shorter then usual, but c'est la vie. After just shy of 2 months, I just wanted to get something out. Sorry it's been so very long. But as a full time university student who works on the side, I think my absence is justifiable, no? On that note, once again I don't know when the next chapter will come out. Hopefully before November, eh?

Enjoy!

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It took you a good five minutes to get though the events of the afternoon, and all through that time you were fighting back tears. Sans listened quietly through the whole thing, not adding in a word or cutting in with questions at all. It made it easier to get through everything quickly, but sometimes you needed to affirm he was still on the other end of the line. He always was; and you found that extremely comforting. By the time you finished re-accounting your story, you could hear the sirens of police cars in the distance.

"where exactly are you in the apartment?" Sans asked when you finished telling him that Chris had called the authorities, which was the end of your story.

"In the bedroom." You answered in a shaky voice, trying to wipe the tears from you eyes. More just filled them and spilled over though, so it was a futile effort.

"ok. be there in a second."

"Wait—" You started, but it was already too late. Sans had hung up the phone, and just a second later you heard Chris' startled yelp from the other room. You lowered the phone from your ear as quiet footsteps hurried down the hall, and just a second later Sans swung around the corner and stopped in the doorway. As soon as you saw him you started crying again, and without a word Sans made his way over to you, knelt down, and wrapped you in his arms. You grabbed onto his shirt like a lifeline, and he murmured soothingly to you. In all honestly you couldn't really grasp what he was saying, but you knew it was calming you down. You could feel your heartbeat slow, and you took comfort in his presence. No one had ever made you feel as safe as Sans did. And if you were completely honest, you were so glad he came.

"Hey you can't just barge in here!" Chris said, barging into the room in protective mode. He was using the tone he used for fans that were getting out of control. "Who are you? And how did you even get in here?"

"i didn't just barge in, (y/n) told me to come." Sans scoffed, defending himself. Pulling back from Sans a bit you wiped your eyes and cheeks to try to clear away the tears. It didn't really help though, as more just fell after the clean up job. Your makeup was probably a mess... all of Mettaton's hard work down the drain, so to speak.

"I did call him. Sorry if he startled you." You managed to get out between deep breaths and sniffles. You were still in the process of calming down, and because of that you were now shivering out of control. Huge tremors ran down your spine, but it wasn't from cold. It was a combination or nerves, stress, and a sudden collapse of emotions. Sans noticed your shivering, and immediately pulled his hoodie around your shoulders. Chris raised his eyebrows at the gesture, but didn't comment. You rubbed your cheeks again, then continued. "This is Sans, one of the monsters I told you about. He's the one that found me last night."

"Ah, the infamous Sans. Nice to put a face to the name." Chris nodded in greeting. You'd definitely talked about Sans before, as well as the other monsters in your group. Until now, Mettaton was the only monster Chris new in person, not just by stories. Sans nodded back in greeting, zipping his sweater up to your chin. He didn't mention anything about Chris knowing about him before actually meeting him, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. He knew you told Chris about him. You just hoped he didn't find out the length in which you spoke about the particular monster in question.

After zipping up the jacket he turned back to Chris. "nice to meet you too. can i assume you're Chris?"

"Indeed." Chris nodded.

Any further discussion was cut off by the hard pounding on the front door. You locked up, the brief reprieve Sans provided dissipating in the wind. "That would be the police." Chris noted, leaving the room abruptly to greet the cops. The tremors down your back began anew, as you realized you'd need to replay the whole event to the police. Everything. You didn't know if you were ready for that. It was still to fresh, too new. Sans seemed to read your relapse in mood, and after pulling you to your feet he grabbed your hands in a way that made you focus completely on him, even if just for a moment.

"it'll be fine." He reassured you.

"Will you stay?" You asked softly, nervously. It felt like the oxygen was being sucked from the room, making it hard to breath.

"course. i'll be beside you the whole time."

With a slight nod, you made your way back towards the once lovely living room, no void of anything. You could hear Chris greeting the officers at the door, before allowing them to come in and leading them towards you. Sans stepped up beside you, making his presence know, and you were grateful for that. Without a word or even looking at him you slipped your hand into his, seeking comfort and reassurance, and he responded in kind.

Chris rounded the corner of the front entrance, and in tow were two officers. They were both dressed in their uniforms, their emblem displayed proudly on their chests and shoulders under their gold name tags. You took in the handcuffs, flashlights, and guns hanging from their belts before turning your attention back to their faces. While they were dressed the same, one of them was a burly man somewhere in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was cut short and greying, and he sported an impressive mustache on his upper lip. The other cop was a woman who was probably in her thirties, with black hair pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head. Chris introduced them as Officers Marco and Vanfore, and while you shook their hands you introduced yourself and Sans. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, they got straight down to business.

"So, Miss Heir, can you tell us exactly what happened? When did this all start?" Officer Marco, the male cop started. You kind of wished you had somewhere to sit as you started your story, since your knees felt weak, but without furniture you could do nothing but stand and try not to collapse.

"I guess it really started around Christmas..." you began already choking on the words. You cast a glance at Sans and he squeezed your hand, giving you a slight nod. With a deep breath, you launched into the story, reliving it through the words that now spilled from your mouth. Once they started, you couldn't seem to get them to stop. You told the officers about how Mitchell had always hated monsters, and despite knowing this you started to get to know the ones you now called friends. You told them how you kept it a secret, and despite his animosity you never thought you were doing anything wrong. Then you told them about when he got back, about how he found out you'd been hanging out with the monsters. About how he hadn't been willing to hear it from you, but had hired someone to follow you and investigate your movements. Officer Marco interrupted to ask if you hand any of the photo's with you, and you answered no before continuing. He didn't interrupt again, and Officer Vanfore only listened and wrote down your statement. You continued into the fight you had with Mitchell, about how you yelled. When you got to the part about how he hit you, you pointed out your cheek and explained that his ring had cut you. The cops took note of the scabbed over cut, and silently listened again as you told them how he grabbed your hair and tried to slam you head into the wall. You admitted as well that you'd bit his wrist in self defense before running out the door and into the night. You briefly told them about how Sans found you, and how you'd spent the night at your friends, before going into work the next morning to speak with Chris.

"She came to tell me about what happened," Chris supplied, "and while talking I advised her to check on her banking information."

"Mitchell and I had a joint account, which is where most of what I earn goes." You continued. "But when I logged on, there was nothing left. I found out after talking to someone on the phone that Mitchell had taken all of the money. Every single cent."

"Let me just clarify; he took all the money you had in a joint account?" Officer Marco interrupted.

"Yes, but most of the money in there was the money I earned. Mitchell's never made as much as I do, so we decided that all our money would be pooled together to pay for rent and such. But he'd been taking from the account for years without telling me, transferring it to the company Purus Corp., where he actually works, without asking or telling me." You nodded, biting your lower lip before continuing. "Then Chris and I came here, to the apartment we shared, to get my stuff. But everything's gone. Mitchell took everything."

"How do you know it was him?"

"He's the only other person with the key. I left mine here after he hit me."

"I see. Vanfore, go talk to the front desk. See if you can get a hold of the security footage. Miss Heir, Chris, if you would accompany me to the station we'll get both your statement in full, as well as photographs." Officer Marco said, and your heart sunk a little more. Going to the station, you'd certainly be recognized. People would know, and then everything would get out. Sans squeezed your hand again, grounding you. You looked to him with worry, and he gave you another reassuring smile. "You said your name was Sans, correct?" Officer Marco started, drawing your attention back to him.

"i am." Sans answered with a nod.

"Why don't you come as well. You're the one who found Miss Heir, right? We should get your statement as well."

Sans nodded, and as the cops turned to go you all followed them out. Nerves were tearing apart your insides, knowing what path this was taking you down, but knowing that this was the right thing to do. Wasn't it? No, it was. Mitchell had stolen from you, and looking back now, with almost a fresh outlook, you realized that Chris and Mettaton were right. Mitchel had been abusing you. Maybe not physically, maybe not obviously, but emotionally he had controlled you for years. And now wasn't the time to shy away. Now was the time to face the threat head on and deal with it one day at a time. With your sunglasses back down over your eyes, you followed Chris and Sans to the cop car parked outside the apartment, and with little hesitation climbed in. This was a turning point for you, and you were determined to face it head on.

At the police station, you were all walked to separate interrogation rooms so the cops could get statements without any interruptions. You told your story again, nervously, and made sure to keep the details as precise as possible. You hated being alone for this, even though you knew it was part of the system, but you couldn't help but wish they'd let Sans stick around.

Once Officer Marco and a new officer took your statement again, you were shuttled over to a different room so a female medical officer could look over your head injuries. Once she located everything, she took photos, engraving the evidence of your struggle permanently in film. Through the process, you discovered that your scalp where Mitchell had grabbed you was a little sensitive, and quite a bit of hair had actually been pulled out at the roots. The medical officer assured me the hair would grow back, then put me back in the custody of Officer Marco.

By the time that was all finished, Chris had gotten your lawyer down to the station, and after a brief discussion you decided how you were going to move forwards. You were going to press charges, and though you didn't exactly want to go to court, you knew that this was the only way to go about this. Mitchell had seemed to disappear, as the officers couldn't get in contact with him and didn't know where he went. That concerned you, but you were assured they would find him, if only to take his statement. With enough evidence though, they could actually put out a warrant or something for his arrest. As part of collecting evidence, they asked you to provide a picture of him, which you did, as well as to identify him on the footage they'd managed to get from your apartment. There was one, the night of the incident, that showed the hallway on the floor you lived on. It showed you returning the night of the incident and going into the apartment, then about twenty minutes later, run out with disheveled hair, clothes, and without shoes. It was clear in the footage that you were crying. Mitchell appeared in the hallway a moment later, following you, and you identified him. Then they showed you footage from earlier that day, where Mitchell could be seen with a whole moving crew, taking everything from your apartment and loading it into the back of a large van. You identified him again, feeling even more loss now that you could actually see your things being taken.

Once that was done, Officer Marco assured me that they'd find Mitchell and bring him in, and that you had nothing to worry about. After that, there was nothing to do but go home.

"Can I give you two a lift?" Chris asked as we exited the building.

"nah, we're good." Sans answered, looking over at you. "coming back to my place?"

"If I can. I don't exactly have anywhere else to go." You answered, letting out a little laugh. You'd meant it to be light, but it came out nervous and sad.

"Actually (y/n), before you go, would you mind coming back to the office? We still need to talk about what to do for the New Year's concert." Chris asked, coming to a stop on the sidewalk.

"Can I call you again tomorrow? I'm exhausted." You answered, stifling an accidental yawn for added effect. Chris frowned slightly but nodded anyway. "Thanks. I'll make sure to call you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Right. Get some rest, okay?" He added before turning to walk with the lawyer down the stations concrete steps. Now that you were outside, the weight of the day came crashing back down on your shoulders, making you feel like you were sinking into the ground. It was all so much. Far too much. It still felt like your world was falling to pieces around you, and all you could do was watch as it burned.

"you ok?" Sans asked, drawing your attention down to the attentive skeleton. Gratitude filled your heart, and you were once again so thankful he'd come. Where would you be without him? Probably still outside in the freezing cold; lost, alone, and confused.

"Yeah, I'm just tired." You nodded, a small smile slipping onto your face.

"well, let's get you home then, huh?" Sans offered his hand to you once again, and you took it without second thought. The familiar buzz entered your body, and after a blink you found yourself standing in the center of the skeleton brothers living room, watching as a startled Papyrus threw his plate of spaghetti ten feet into the air. His insane reaction was enough to bring a much needed smile back to your face, and a small bit of the weight crushing you lifting off your chest.

"GAH!" He yelled, nearly falling over himself. He then seemed to realize what had just happened and recovered, adding a hearty, "WELCOME BACK!" to his surprise.

"we're home." Sans said, eyeing his brother for a second with a smirk before looking up at the ceiling.

"I CAN SEE THAT! HOW WAS YOUR DAY?"

"A little crazy," you answered honestly. "But it is what it is."

"AS MOST DAYS ARE! SANS, WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? AS FAR AS I KNOW WE'RE ALL ON THE FLOOR!"

"yeah, but your spaghetti's not."

You and Papyrus looked up, and you couldn't help but giggle at what you saw. There, all the way up on the ceiling, was Papyrus' plate of spaghetti. You weren't exactly sure how it was sticking up there, plate and all, but it was certainly a sight that induced giggles.

"NYEH HEH HEH! I GUESS GLUE WASN'T THE THING TO USE AS SAUCE!" Papyrus declared, and that sent both you and Sans into a fit out laughter. That explained it. Pretty soon Papyrus joined in, even though you were pretty sure he didn't get what was so funny. Once you started you couldn't stop, and you were relieved. It was relieving all the remaining pressure you felt, and by the time you calmed down, you felt light as a feather. You guessed all you needed was a little bit of Papy therapy to get rid of all that stress.

Maybe, just maybe, you'd get through everything that was to come with the support you knew you'd get from your monster friends.