"Hey kiddo, you got a minute?"
The dying sun slid past painted glass, illuminating golden tile with touches of violet.
Spilled blood provided the rest of the color.
The stout figure shuffled closer, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie. A single glowing blue iris peered down at the small, broken form on the floor.
"Heh, that was a little joke in case you missed it." His eyes collided with a baleful red that made shivers run the length of his bones. "I don't think you'll be going too far with two busted legs, huh?"
No answer. They never did answer, no matter how many times this was the outcome, no matter how much he tried to spur a rise from them. Mingled with his huge dislike of the one who murdered his brother, a twinge of fear rested in the skeleton's core.
"All right." He spread bony fingers open in a non-threatening gesture. "Let me ask you something else, then. Now that you've had a bad time, I just have to know one more thing."
The kid's eyes narrowed. He knew they had to be wondering if this was some sort of twisted joke. The skeleton drew closer, then reached a slippered foot out. The sound of metal sliding against tile was loud in the room. The knife skittered away, just out of its owner's reach.
"Sheesh, what type of parent lets their kid play with knives?" His face shifted to distaste. "Looks pretty dangerous from here, especially for the kid. Am I right?"
Still nothing. The Child's eyes continued to drill holes into his.
"That's not what I really wanted to ask." He shrugged. "Sorry. Hang on just a sec." He sat with a soft groan and shifting of bones. The Child's eyes watched every movement.
"That's better. I'll give you credit, kid, that last effort was a pretty good one. It put a nice-size hole in this." He laced his fingers through the red scrap of material around his neck. "And a couple more inches to the left, you might've actually nicked a rib." He leaned down, knowing the Child could see their own blood across the angles of his cheekbones. He leaned closer. "Shame you didn't bring some seasoning to go with that knife. Then this could have been 'a salt with a deadly weapon.'"
He didn't expect a smile and naturally didn't get one. "Okay, so here's my question. It's pretty easy and all things considered, I think you'll have some time to think about a good answer."
The Child rolled crimson eyes.
"...Why?" The pain that came with that soft question tore away the last of the skeleton's mockery. "You killed Undyne, Mettaton, Toriel, everybody. Papyrus..." The name stuck in his mouth, between his teeth. "I just-" He made an empty gesture. "I want to know why."
The Child smiled. Blood slicked teeth that had yet to fall out and be replaced by more permanent ones.
Then, to his shock, they spoke for the first time.
"Why?" they repeated. "You're asking me something easy. It's really simple. I'm surprised you didn't figure it out by now."
He slid away from that, trying to be subtle. His breathing quickened. Even at death's door, this kid's voice was filled with so much hate that it was almost something he could reach out and touch.
"I LOVE everything." That smile stretched to dominate their plump little cheeks. "I LOVE watching everyone die, everything burn. The reason 'why' doesn't matter, but since you asked so nicely, I'll let you in on a little secret." They giggled, a child's joyous sound, before their tone turned mocking. "Oh, I'm sorry. Your brother." They laughed, and blood bubbled to spill over their lips. "I LOVEd him the most. Maybe even more than that poor sap Toriel. She at least suspected something. People who believe in you right until you rip the life away from them are the best to kill. And I'll keep killing too, over and over."
The skeleton's eyes widened. "You-."
"That's right, you fool. I control everything. And every single time, you're walking right into my trap. You just don't remember it. Congratulations."
And quicker than a flash, they were going for the knife. He was a moment quicker, grabbing it and driving it down in a quick flash of silver.
The body on the floor jerked. More blood erupted, so much that it startled him, made a shaky pant emerge.
"Are-Are you really better than me?" the Child whispered. "Murderer." The red faded from their eyes. Then they slowly widened as something else took hold.
And so did Sans'. The realization solidifed, turned to crystal.
"N-No." The word shook when it was finally able to emerge past his trapped breath. "No. I didn't-I didn't know. I didn't-."
The Child stared up at him with an innocent brown gaze. Their lips parted in an effort to speak, but nothing would emerge.
He swallowed. "Oh kid. Kid, God." His hands reached for the hilt of the knife, but the Child was trying to raise theirs to touch his. It's all right, they seemed to be conveying.
"I'm." He had to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't remember this time around." He gathered the sweat-soaked head into his lap, stroked the hair that was plastered to the Child's forehead with shaking bones. The adrenaline was wearing off.
"Get some rest, all right?" His voice was hoarse. "Just let it go for now. I'll be here when you wake up."
That gaze met his again. A moment of acknowledgement passed between them, and then those eyes slowly shut.
Sans stayed where he was, frozen by the revelations, the grief, until at last he moved the head from his lap and laid it gently on the tile that reminded him of buttercups.
So this was what sin felt like.
"It looks like someone figured out your little secret."
Right before regeneration, there was darkness. Within it, the two figures remained cradled, waiting for time to catch up.
The Child glowered at the swaying yellow flower. "Shut up, Asriel."
"Do you think he'll remember next time?"
The Child stared at him in pure distaste. "Does he ever remember?"
"No, but...Maybe, do you ever think he might?"
"Didn't I just get done saying to shut up?" The small figure stood to tower over him. "If you keep babbling, I might get bored. And when I get bored, you already know what my favorite game is, don't you?"
"Daddy's still sick." A courtyard filled with luminous flowers whispered as they walked through. "Mom thinks he'll be okay, though. Um."
The slightly shorter of the two figures never stopped walking.
Asriel paused. "Hey."
The human's shoulders hunched. Muscles tightened. "What is it?"
"I, why did you put buttercups in the pie instead of cups of butter?"
"It was a mistake. I told you that." The Child kept walking, shadows falling across their form. "Stop asking me questions."
But something nagged at him, down deep, down where he knew it would be impossible to ignore. "I told you before you did it that there's a big difference between buttercups and cups of butter."
"Asriel." They stopped, an undercurrent of warmth in their voice. "Come here."
In the present, Asriel-or was it Flowey now?-looked up at them. "'He loves me, he loves me not.'"
"That's right." The Child smiled. "And you do love me, don't you?"
The village the dying human had guided him to looked unfriendly. There were other humans, fascinating things that stood outside of their small houses to look at their approaching forms.
"They never wanted me." The Child curled against him. "They threw me down into your world as a sacrifice so everyone would stop fighting, and left me to die."
"Daddy says humans are like that." They were drawing closer now.
"No." The human drew a pained breath. The sickness was terrible; nothing had been able to halt its destructive progress. The Child had a day, maybe just hours. The thought made Asriel's heart clench.
"Everyone is like that."
"What?" He thought he hadn't heard them properly.
"I said, 'everyone is like that.' There's only one way to fix it so humans and monsters never, ever fight again."
"...What's that?"
Flowey hesitated, just a breath too long. The Child snagged a petal between their thumb and forefinger. "Don't you?" they repeated.
He'd been able to forgive the human that day in the courtyard. The pain in his cheek hadn't lasted long, and he was able to explain the bruise away to his mother when she asked.
But sometimes...
Flowey winced. "Yes."
That hurting grasp twisted. "Say it, then. Go on."
"I-"
"Yes?"
"I LOVE you."
The Child smiled.
A moment later, everything, the two figures, the darkness, the flower's memory, were all gone.