Whoa! Iron Robin is alive?! No way!
Yep. It's me. And look at that, I'm in a completely different genre and there aren't even any superheroes involved! What the heck?!
Yeah, I needed a change of pace, and I haven't sat down to write anything in forever, so here we are! It's short and it's depressing, but here's a random Undertale one-shot (I will emphasize again: this is a one-shot) whose inspiration goes solely to a fellow Undertale fan (and friend) of mine. Sea, you're the man.
I don't own Undertale and all that. I just needed to get off my lazy butt and write, so thank you, Toby Fox, for this wonderful, fanfiction worthy game. (I apologize ahead of time for the lack of fonts, but I don't know if that's possible on here because I've never tried, and my new computer doesn't even have Microsoft Word yet.)
It should have been like any other day. The kid went out to do their whole "ambassador" thing just like it was any other day. They had breakfast with Flowey, courtesy of Toriel, picked out their best (and cleanest at the time) outfit, courtesy of Papyrus and Mettaton, refreshed their self-defense knowledge, courtesy of Undyne, remembered how to say common phrases in Japanese (not that Sans understood the point of that), courtesy of Alphys, and put some new jokes in their arsenal, courtesy of the comedy king himself.
But then. . .
But then. . .
Tragedy struck. Instead of Frisk showing up on the doorstep at the end of the day, it was the human police. Instead of Frisk walking in with tales of their day, it was the police walking in with tales of how Frisk Dreemurr, the ambassador of human and monster relations, met their unfortunate end at the hands of a riot. There was still some unrest between humans and monsters, the police said. Many were happy with their new living arrangements thanks to the ambassador, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be content. Frisk had done what they could to handle the situation. Their determination was inspiring, onlookers said. But in the end, their unwillingness to fight back and their determination to end the fight without violence was rewarded, not with a peaceful end to the conflict, but with a brutal death.
All Sans could think as Toriel, with tears in her eyes and voice, verified that that was indeed a picture of Frisk's bruised, beaten body was, come on, kiddo. get a move on. reset already. or reload. or do whatever you need to to come back. what's taking so long?
But maybe he was only so intent on thinking that because he refused to look at the kid's body. Because that couldn't be Frisk. Frisk wasn't dead. They would come back any second now. Sure, the day would probably start over at the beginning with breakfast, but that was a small price to pay for the kid's life.
Only, as the minutes ticked by and the timeline didn't rewind on itself, Sans was finding it harder and harder to keep a cool head.
What made it worse was when one of the human police turned to him and began to explain that a witness had come by after the riot, when the humans and monsters that had participated in the act were gone. The police elaborated that the witness had managed to make Frisk as comfortable as possible in the last seconds of their life, and that Frisk had said something: something that they claimed they wanted Sans to hear. It was just five little words, but they shocked Sans to his core.
"I promised you I wouldn't."
No one else could possibly know what promise Frisk was referring to, but Sans did. Sans knew exactly what the kid had been talking about.
"i can't keep living like this, kiddo. if you're going to reset, at least promise me you'll tell me before you do it. okay?"
"I won't."
"what do you mean you won't?! is that really too much to ask?"
"No. I mean, I won't reset at all. I promise."
At the time, the solemn, sincere statement had sent relief surging through Sans' bones. At the time, he had been the happiest skeleton in the world. But now. . .
This wasn't what he wanted! Of course he didn't want them to reset, but if their life was hanging in the balance, they had every right to preserve it! What were they playing at? Were they really so determined to keep their promise to him that they would let themself die? That couldn't be it. He refused to believe it. They were resetting right now. That had to be it. It was just taking some time to load.
But the ticking minutes turned to hours, and long into the night, after the police had left and the rest of the monster household had turned in for a night of no sleep, Sans still sat exactly where he had been since the police had arrived, waiting for Frisk to come back. The kid would either walk through that door at any second, or the day would restart, or Sans would even find himself back in the Underground. He didn't care anymore at this point. Frisk could reset to any time they liked and he wouldn't mind.
But as the hours dragged on, the house remained dark, and as the clock never moved back, those five little words repeated themselves like a mantra in Sans' mind.
"I promised you I wouldn't."
And as his soul started to feel as if it would break, five of his own, different words began to play right alongside Frisk's.
this is all my fault.