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The sun beat down, warming your face. The surface is pleasant, always so bright and open. Your eyelids felt heavy, warmth lulling you to sleep in a slow, gentle sort of way.
This is nice. Everyone's content. There's nothing more you could ask for. It's a happy ending, peaceful and pristine, wrapped up neat and clean.
You never had long to enjoy it. Really, you're okay with that.
Getting to the surface lost its appeal when it was ripped out from under you one too many times. Sometimes the kid would try to last longer, try to be content with the greater good rather than the perfect ending, but they never lasted long. Usually, you had a week to soak it in.
Papyrus and Undyne rolled through the grass, wrestling, you think. It was a little hard to tell with those two. They were having a great time nonetheless.
Frisk was picking flowers, weaving them together into a circle. They're making a flower crown, wow. That's sickeningly cute.
Times like these help reinforce your faith in them.
(At least until you wake up in Snowdin again.)
You've given up on your happy ending. Nothing's gonna change. Nothing has changed for years.
You snuck away from the group and settled down behind a few bushels of shrubbery. This place grew more and more familiar as timelines rolled by.
The click of your lighter was deceptively comforting and familiar. Cigarette perched delicately in between your teeth, you brought the lighter up to your face and lit it.
You closed your eyes and took a slow, measured breath, holding the smoke in for a moment, feeling a burn in your chest that doesn't quite make sense given your anatomy.
Smoking is pretty uncommon in the underground, at least in comparison to humans. Mostly because cigarettes are hard to come by. In this regard, you're rather fortunate. Every time the kid resets your carton refills.
You're not quite sure if that's a good thing. What are you supposed to say, 'yay, I can continue to be dependant on nicotine since time is a flat circle!'
What a joke.
A heavy bitterness settled in your chest.
When you felt heat on your fingers you threw the butt to the ground, smothering the last remaining inkling with your sneaker. You weren't quite ready to go back to all that.
Sitting down in the leaves produced an obnoxious crunching noise. The noise repeated a little quieter. Your eyes shot open on their own accord.
Of fucking course it's the kid. An inkling of spite wriggled its way into your chest.
'How do skeletons smoke anyways?' they signed, quick and practiced. Their nose was wrinkled up in distaste, presumably from the smell.
"That is the burning question," you chuckled dryly. "Hey, kiddo, do me a favor and keep this to yourself. Pap'll give me the lecture of a lifetime if he finds out i'm smoking."
They gave you a thumbs up. You nodded in return, quietly simmering. You're not quite sure where it came from, but everything about the human child seemed to grate at you.
"So, what brings you here?" You asked, grinning down at Frisk in an attempt to shove down your annoyance. They looked away, staring at a particularly interesting leaf.
Their hands started moving again, a little slower, a little shakier. 'Just wanted to say I'm sorry, Sans.' They still couldn't look at you. It pissed you off.
Seriously? They're trying to apologize? Like they can put some shitty bandage on all the damage they caused you?
Your irritation bloomed into hot, seething anger. "That it?"
They looked like they were gonna cry. A part of you felt they deserved whatever guilt they must feel.
You're so petty, so bitter, so cynical. There's nothing else you can be. You blame that on the kid, too.
'No more resets. I'm done.' You almost laughed. Look how that went last time.
You've always been pretty good at keeping your emotions under check. You remembered facing Chara for the first time, dust caked on their hands, with the same even drawl you had used to say good morning to your brother.
You couldn't keep the spite out of your voice if you tried.
"Whatever you say, pal."
*****
The group all went out to celebrate that night. They laughed, and drank, and joked, and cried. You did too, you had to. They were all so happy.
You did what you always did. You enjoyed what you could while you had it. Especially your new bed.
You'll never get tired of your surface home.
(You won't admit it but something in you snapped. You refused to get attached to this. You refused to let yourself be happy.)
You spent a lot of your time on the surface sleeping. Sure, there's a vast blue sky and endless new places to discover, but getting used to it just made waking up on your lumpy mattress in Snowdin so much more disappointing. Besides, this is a really nice couch.
(You took the couch from your house in Snowdin. The stuffing was falling out of one of the cushions and springs jabbed up at your spine.)
Papyrus has been busy. He's been flying around, looking for jobs, seeing new things, making new friends. He's really happy. There's a lot of stuff out there for him, a lot of opportunities, and you'll be damned if you're the one who keeps him from them.
(It hurts to think about how easily the human can rip it away.)
You don't see him very often anymore. You ignored how heavy your soul felt without him. He's moved on to better things.
(But fuck, you'll never admit it but you can't live without him.)
His apartment was warm and clean. It always smelled like tomato sauce and comfort. You tried to spend as much time there as you could at first, planning visits so you had something forcing you out of bed.
You quit going after a little bit. Lying to your brother was hard for you, and he always asked things you can't answer honestly.
It was the simple things, really. You knew he wasn't normally one to make small talk, but when you visited that seemed to be the only sort of talk he went for.
He asked the right questions and you gave the right answers. They weren't the truthful answers, but they were the right ones.
Papyrus is concerned, you know he is. He's not stupid and you're not subtle. You've been this bad before, you know you have, but never this long. A week, at most.
Back when time actually worked, back when it mattered whether or not you got out of bed. You can't bring yourself to care.
You drink, you sleep.
You wait for the world to reset
*****
It's been a year since the last reset. A year since you woken to your dirty ceiling and your brother's shouting. You decided to go out to, uh... celebrate?
Congrats, kid, you let time work the way it's supposed to for an entire year!
There's a bar in town not too far from your apartment. It's not like Grillby's. No one greets you as you walk in, there's no empty barstool saved for you, no monsters inviting you to play cards. No one looking out for you.
(No Grillby to cut you off after your sixth drink of the hour.)
You sat at the barstool downing drink after drink until you forgot who you were.
(Until the bartender kicked you out at closing.)
It really freaks out the pedestrians when you fire up your magic and try to teleport, the key word being try. You ended up about a yard away.
You stumbled forwards, just barely keeping yourself from falling.
Whatever, you'll walk.
*****
When you opened your door you didn't expect to be greeted by the person you love the most in the world looking incredibly worried. Undyne looked a lot less worried and a lot more angry. She made huge gestures with her hands as she ranted to Papyrus. The words she was speaking were lost to you, although you were pretty sure you caught a few "drunks" and some colorful swearing.
Yeah, you're not doing this shit. You turned around and walked back out of the house. You'll sleep in the hall, whatever.
"SANS!" Papyrus shouted after you.
You laid down onto the grimy carpet in the halls and groaned, loud and exaggerated.
Undyne isn't having any of your shit, apparently. She looked about ready to skewer your head on a spear.
It didn't take long for her to haul your drunk ass into the apartment.
"Alright, Sans is wasted," Undyne announced, like it was a huge crowd of people rather than just Papyrus.
"Hey Papyrus," you slurred. Wow, you were wasted. "Get off my couch, will ya."
They didn't budge. Papyrus was right in the middle of the couch, squarely in your sleep zone.
"Papy, scoot over, you're sitting right where i sleep."
He straightened his back a little, looking up at you as his eyes brightened. You could feel his determination.
"EXACTLY! YOU WON'T BE FALLING ASLEEP UNTIL WE HAVE A HEART TO HEART BROTHERLY TALK." He gave Undyne a desperate look. She got the hint, stood up, and left, mumbling about you hurting Papyrus and HP.
"Paps, we don't have hearts." When you laugh it's a lot higher than your normal laugh, more of a cackling.
You weren't nearly drunk enough for a "heart to heart brotherly talk." You could think of a billion things that sounded better than a heart to heart brotherly talk. Undyne's spears were better than a heart to heart brotherly talk.
"SANS," he began, "IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU ARE NOT FUNCTIONING WELL ON YOUR OWN." He made a sweeping gesture towards the bottles littering the ground.
"I HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU IN MONTHS. NO PHONE CALL, NO TEXT, NO LETTER. TORIEL WAS FREAKING OUT. EVEN UNDYNE WAS CONCERNED." You gave a responding shrug and attempted to push him out of your spot. He won't move.
"Come on," you whined, giving him another shove.
"WILL YOU STOP THAT?" he asked emphatically. He just needed to move.
"Get out of my apartment." You gave another halfhearted push. "Please," you pleaded. "Just leave."
Ugh, gross, you've always been a weepy drunk but this is ridiculous. A few lone tears fell onto Papyrus.
"YOU'RE STAYING WITH ME UNTIL YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF," he said decisively.
"Get off my couch!" Your voice cracked with the volume.
He didn't even flinch. He's used to this. The realization felt like someone dropkicking your stomach. Your face crumpled.
"I'M NOT LETTING YOU DRINK YOUR LIFE AWAY, SANS. I'M NOT GONNA SIT HERE AND WATCH YOU ROT."
"I'm an adult, holy shit. Look, I'm alive and well." You turned slowly with your arms extended to prove your point. It admittedly wasn't very graceful.
"WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WENT OUTSIDE FOR SOMETHING OTHER THAN ALCOHOL?"
You bought some cigarettes a few days ago. You elected to keep that to yourself.
"YOU'RE NOT LIVING, SANS. YES, YOU'RE NOT DUST, BUT YOU'RE NOT REALLY LIVING EITHER." He sighed, resigned. "Please, let me help you."
"do i even have a choice?" you mumbled.
"NO." You groaned in response.
He stood and scooped you up in one large motion. You instinctively clung to him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso.
It was really hard to be angry when you felt so safe. It took about five steps for you to be dead to the world.
*****
You wished you could say you had some sort of epiphany and everything changed for the better, but you didn't. Not a lot changed, actually. You dragged your shit over and did the same exact thing you did in your apartment sans the drinking.
Heh.
You would've continued the drinking if you could, but whenever you brought any back Papyrus would take it before you even opened the bottle. You tried six separate times, most of them at night, before you gave up.
(The detox wasn't pretty. Papyrus took a week off work to make sure you didn't literally puke your entire supply of magic.)
He gave up his guest room and you basically turned it into your fortress of solitude.
You think you lost your motivation to live. All your gathered momentum came to a halting stop and you just couldn't anymore. Not even with Papyrus breathing down your neck in that doting, motherly sort of way.
This was hurting him, you knew it was, yet you just couldn't care. It was selfish and disgusting but Papyrus wasn't happy so you wouldn't be either.
You sleep, you rot.
You wait for the world to reset.
*****
You really wanted to believe it's over. You really wanted to believe you'll never wake up in Snowdin (the same way you have countless times) again. You really wanted to believe you won't see your brother's dust ever again. You really wanted to believe you'll never have to splatter the underground's savior across the snow, or slick the suffocating walls of the Judgment Hall with their blood.
You really wanted to believe that it's over, but you can't. It's been a year, a fucking year, and you still don't trust them.
They were supposed to be the seventh soul. The sixth human you've slaughtered in cold blood. But they just reset and reset and looked at you with that warm smile and encouraging words barely whispered and they spared you every single time. You killed them every single time, until eventually you just didn't fight them.
(When fighting, mercy is not an option. Above all, mercy is something you cannot give. Mercy is something you cannot allow yourself to receive.)
You remember the timeline after they killed Papyrus for the first time. You fell back into the habit of killing them right when they left the ruins, until eventually when they came back they weren't themself anymore.
(You felt what it was like to die for the first time.)
You humored the thought that this really was the last run through, that they won't reset. It was oddly terrifying.
*****
You weren't prepared for this confrontation. You weren't prepared for the first confrontation, but this one especially so.
It started out as a relatively normal morning.
Papyrus shook you awake like he was afraid you'd turn to dust if he touched you too roughly.
Papyrus cooked a breakfast of scrambled eggs and set it down with a shaky gentleness in front of you.
Papyrus hesitantly called your name to wake you up.
Papyrus clutched something in his hand you couldn't see and sat down across from you.
Papyrus didn't nag you about playing with your food, but instead asked you to eat in a quietly desperate way.
(It hurt more than you wanted to admit.)
He set down a pocket-sized notebook, cover ripped from use. Your hand instinctively went to your jacket pockets.
Yeah. There was nothing there. You felt nauseous.
"SANS... WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN? FRISK WOULDN'T... YOU WOULDN'T..." His voice cracked on the last word and something close to shame pulsed through you.
You had nothing more to say. Papyrus did, Papyrus definitely had a world of questions needing an answer, but it wasn't your story to tell in the first place.
You offered a wan smile.
*****
"SANS? FRISK WANTED ME TO GIVE YOU THIS." Papyrus slid an envelope towards you, your name written in a small, blocky handwriting that clearly belonged to Frisk.
You gave him a thumbs up, picked up the letter and opened it shakily. You haven't heard from them in a really long time.
There were some odd minutes spent staring down at the paper without reading it. Your eyes flitted over the words but it felt like you were reading ancient hieroglyphics.
You put down the letter and took a deep shuddering breath, pushing back your apprehension. It's just a freaking letter. Calm down.
You forced your eyes to focus on the letters.
Sans,
I don't remember all of what I've done to you and your loved ones in all those timelines, but I'm sorry. More sorry than I can ever put into words. I don't remember all of what you've done to me in all those timelines, but I forgive you.
I couldn't reset now if I wanted to. I think Asriel has the power back, but I'm not sure.
I haven't seen you in at least ten months. Papyrus comes to me for advice sometimes, you know.
Please start living, for Papyrus. He's been trying so hard for you. Start living for yourself.
Ask Papyrus for help. He can help you. He cares about you. We all do.
Frisk.
Short and sweet, straight to the point. It fit them well.
You felt like shredding the damn letter.
They forgive you? After all the shit you've done to them? After all the times you killed them without a second thought?
(Of course they forgive you. They don't remember, they're Frisk, they'd forgive you no matter what you did.)
You felt guilt, hot and sickening, settle like lead in your stomach.
You let out a strangled noise you didn't know you were holding in.
You felt the same way you did after killing Frisk for the first time, shaky and twitchy, filled with white hot shame at your lack of control.
(You hated that you thought these things, you hated that you greeted the feeling like an old friend.)
You felt another sound rip from your throat. You're sobbing, you numbly realized.
Papyrus gave you a weird look. "Sans? Are you alright?"
You weren't alright, yet you felt oddly at peace about it. They forgave you. They forgave you and you still couldn't forgive them. You still couldn't look them in the eyes without anger crawling up your throat.
You choked back sobs and furiously scrubbed at your eyes. You tried to take deep breaths and ground yourself. Anything to prevent this.
This was a long time coming, if you're brutally honest.
Papyrus watched as you shattered into a billion pieces. He watched you hastily trying to hold them together. He watched you tremble with suppressed emotion. He watched your shoulders shake with barely silenced sobs.
"Sans?"
You didn't want to break down in front of your brother. You didn't want the world to reset, but you did, in a weird way. They can't appreciate how terrifying it is to live day by day knowing there's no do overs. You've already fucked up so badly.
You wondered, in a distant sort of way, if Frisk is as afraid of living as you are.
How could they forgive you when every move they made infuriated you? How could they forgive you when you still wanted to kill them? How could they forgive you when you blamed them for shit that wasn't even their fault?
It took you about a half an hour to stop crying and an extra twenty to stop shaking. You don't remember the last time you had a good cry. Papyrus rubbed your back and gave you meaningless encouragement through all your blubbering. It reminded you of bad nightmare nights, back when you dreamt about a tall man with cracks in his skull instead of humans clutching knives dulled by dust.
Your brain felt scattered. Any line of thought you managed to scrounge up quickly dispersed. You were actually glad that was the case. If you thought about it too hard you'd probably be pretty embarrassed.
"Papyrus?" Your voice was rough from your crying.
"YES?"
"I'm sorry."
He squeezed your shoulder a little, voice dropping down to a low, soothing tone.
"It's okay, Sans. I just want you to be alright," he sighed. "We all do." He sounded so defeated, broken, almost.
You felt your soul squeeze, a fresh layer of guilt washing over you. This was your fault.
"I, uh," you cleared your throat, something you didn't actually have to do considering your anatomy. "If I said I wanted to uh.... stop all this, would you..." Fuck, this was hard.
You folded the letter over so that the last paragraph and the signature were showing and wordlessly slid it to him.
The way he beamed back at you like you gave him the world sparked a wave of self loathing.
*****
It started out as little things. Maybe you'd get up without Papyrus forcing you to, maybe you'd eat before it got to be a major health concern, maybe you'd go shopping with Papyrus. It was small, but it was enough.
"hey, papyrus?" Your arms were wrapped around a paper bag. It was your fallback, your safety net. Looking at it made your stomach knot up. "can you get rid of this for me? throw it out, hide it, whatever. just make sure i can't find it."
"CAN I LOOK INSIDE?"
You winced a little, notebooks scrawled with timeline gibberish popping up before you remembered that you wrote it all in wingding.
Go figure.
"oh jeez paps, it probably won't make much sense."
"PLEASE?"
You hesitated. Was there really anything in there you didn't want him to see?
Yes, a part of you screamed. You shoved it back and basically said 'fuck it.'
"uh, yeah, sure."
*****
He came out of his room about an hour later, softly and carefully, like he was walking on eggshells. Like he was afraid, your head supplied. You told your head to fuck off.
"Sans? Come here for a second."
You got off the couch reluctantly. You're not ready for this. You really aren't.
He summoned your soul, the sensation alone making your magic pulse through your body. Adrenaline pumped through you before you came to your senses and realized this wasn't a battle. He was checking your stats.
He turned his attention to your LV. You hated thinking about it, thinking about the humans you've killed, thinking about the monsters you've hurt, thinking about your power, your LOVE.
(LV 9, so much, too much.)
He released your soul after a little bit. It passively floated back into your chest where it belonged. You felt really warm afterwards. Safe. There's something about someone you trust holding your soul that does that.
He wrapped you up into a tight reassuring hug. You hummed a tiny, content hum and closed your eyes.
"THAT WASN'T YOUR FAULT, SANS. IF IT WASN'T YOU IT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE GUARD OR ASGORE OR... SOMEONE. YOU DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE."
You tried to thank him, tried to tell him how much that meant to you but the words came out as gargled mumbles.
It hit you how much Papyrus has matured. You have a tendency to see him as the same person he was ten years ago, but really, Papyrus is an adult now. He's doing great things, and you're proud of him. You voiced that thought in an admittedly inarticulate way.
You fell asleep before you heard his response.
*****
The sweet smell of pie filled the house. Toriel sent you one of her recipes. It's been a really long time since you've baked anything. You missed it more than you knew.
You were standing in the kitchen, checking over your pie when Papyrus poked your shoulder.
"ME AND FRISK ARE GETTING ICE CREAM AT A SHOP THAT JUST OPENED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME WITH US?"
You prodded at your pie for a few extra seconds before you answered. "yeah, sure, sounds like fun. when are we going?"
"LIKE RIGHT NOW."
You laughed, a warmth spreading through you that made your eyes sting.
The ice cream shop was very obviously local, small with only five booths. There was a pair of humans sitting in one, a child and an old woman. It had a warm, cozy atmosphere that reminded you of Grillby's.
It's been a while since you've seen Frisk. They've grown around a foot taller, leaving your short ass in the dust.
You ordered, made a joke about the kid paying, uttered the words 'waffle bone,' and made the obligatory bone appetit joke.
Papyrus was happy, the kid was happy, you were happy.
"hey, frisk?"
They looked up from their ice cream, an ever patient smile on their face.
"i forgive you." You pretended you didn't see their eyes fill with tears and they pretended they didn't hear your voice crack with emotion.
'Thank you. It's good to have you back.'
You hummed in agreement. "it's good to be back."
You're trying. You're living.
You're still waiting for the world to reset. It won't happen.
Might as well enjoy what you have while it's here, right?