A/N: Something went horrifically wrong with the formatting the first time I uploaded this chapter, so if you get a double notification or something, that's why. Sorry about that.
The two humans started at the slight ping accompanying Sans's teleportation, then flinched when they located the source of the sound and saw the large party.
Chara, on the other hand, was completely still, hands white-knuckled on the throne's armrests as their face twitched, trying to reign in whatever expression was trying to break to the surface. Any normal person would have hesitated for at least a moment when they whispered in a tiny voice, "Dad?"
But Sans had been trained far too well for that.
Before anyone had a chance to even blink, the short skeleton sent a massive wave of bones at Chara, a shifting nightmare of projectiles far more complex than anything Frisk had seen him summon before. The cascading layers of blue and white bones practically formed a solid wall. Two bones smashed into Chara, destroying the throne they sat in and flinging them back. Another erupted from where they landed, punching a hole through their right arm, which earned an agonized scream. They jerked away, snapping the bone where it met the ground and rolling away as Sans continued to rain projectiles on them. They seemed to have finally switched into combat-mode as they started dodging. They clumsily fumbled with the sword on their left hip, managing to draw it and destroy a few bones as they came, but it was clear their right arm - now totally crippled with a femur sticking through it - had been their dominant hand, as their slashes were clumsy. They tried backpedaling to escape the onslaught, but San's early hits had clearly taken their toll, as for every bone Chara dodged and destroyed, another brutally slammed into them. It got to the point where they abandoned the idea of dodging and simply crossed their arms in front of them and tried to endure the onslaught, their heels digging twin furrows in the throne room's earthen floor as they were pushed back.
One of the humans, the taller one, was the first to recover from the shock of San's unannounced attack. To the amazement of Asgore and Frisk, the human summoned a fireball. True, Sans had told them one of the humans was capable of using magic, but seeing it firsthand was a different matter entirely.
The human seemed to struggle for a moment, the ball of fire flickering and sputtering, threatening to go out, before gaining control and creating a sizeable flame. Upon successfully containing his projectile, the human pulled his arm back, aiming to launch it at Sans.
Sans saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and blipped backward just enough to escape its path when the human launched it. This momentary lapse in concentration was enough for his attack to waver. Finally spotting an opportunity in the slight reprieve, Chara slashed their sword in Sans' direction, a wave of red magic being released along its edge.
The two Gasters were goaded into action by the human's attack, creating a solid cage of bones around the two humans to prevent any further interference in the ensuing fight, with some sections of the cage visibly… goopier than the rest. Frisk itched to join, but knew their hold on the timeline was too important to risk their friends being erased.
Sans had been distracted by the fireball, but not to the point where he wouldn't notice the magical attack racing toward him, and promptly blipped across the battlefield, this time behind Chara, before resuming his assault. Once again, Chara took several heavy blows before recovering enough to begin blocking the projectiles again. The onslaught continued, wave after wave of bones crashing against the blade's edge. Watching from the sidelines, Frisk frowned. Sans had never gone this hard against them in any of their fights, and it still only took about ten minutes to wear him down. "At this rate…" Just as the thought crossed their mind, Frisk noticed it. Sans was already sweating and heaving, and his projectiles had both decreased in number and accuracy, letting Chara dodge most as they came, and the ones they blocked no longer pushed them back. Finally, Sans stopped launching bones and keeled over, hands on his knees. Apparently just one minute of that brutal assault was enough to completely drain his stamina. He had always been like this when their fights had ended back home, he had nothing left by the look of it. Of course, to say his ferocious attack was ineffective would be an outright lie. Chara was a bloody mess, literally. Even though they had blocked and slashed hundreds of bones, hundreds more had made contact. Any visible skin was covered in welts and cuts, and it was likely that it was much the same under their shirt. Their right arm still hung uselessly. As the broken, magical projectile began to dissolve, having outlived its usefulness, more and more blood began streaming down their arm, creating a puddle on the ground beneath them. It was possible the attack had broken their humerus, and based on the ever growing puddle of blood, it was likely the attack had punctured an artery.
Frisk felt something, an odd twinge in their gut. It was a familiar feeling, but it felt wrong, somehow. It took them a moment to place the feeling. That was what it felt like when they had tried and failed to save way back when Flowey had taken control of the timeline. Chara must have just tried to save..Sans may have been out of commission, but from Chara's perspective, they were severely injured and Frisk's party still had four more capable fighters.
Frisk was proven right when they noticed the panic written on Chara's face as they realized they no longer had control over the timeline. They hobbled toward Sans as fast as their battered body would allow, and laboriously raised their sword, preparing for an overhand strike that would surely end the 1hp monster's life.
Frisk and company saw what was about to happen, but none reacted quicker than Asgore who lunged forward in a white blur, summoning his crimson trident on his mad dash to the human and fallen skeleton. Chara noticed the movement in their peripheral vision and their sword started its downward arc, only to be caught between two of Asgore's trident's prongs with a metallic clang. Their gaze flowed from the red weapon up to the face of its owner, and for the second time they spoke, repeating the same single word.
"Dad." Tears started streaming down their face as their legs gave out. Asgore used one of his massive hands to catch them as they fell, the other still holding his massive trident. Frisk knew better than most of Asgore's ability to keep fighting even when it tore him up inside, so Chara wasn't out of the woods yet. Still, Chara vastly preferred their current situation of being cuddled by the world's fluffiest king instead of fighting for their life against the most magically adept monster in that universe. They clung to his arm and started sobbing. Both Sans and Asgore struggled to maintain their grim expressions, but for different reasons. For the former, it was exhaustion, and for the latter, he was holding his child in his arms again after so many years. It may not have been his Chara, but it was still Chara. He was moments away from dispelling his trident and wrapping Chara in a hug when a familiar voice sounded from one of the throne room's many doorways.
"What's going on in here?"
All eyes turned to the voice. Toriel stood in a doorway, two fireballs in her palms, with Asriel hovering behind her shoulder. Upon seeing Chara's state, the fireballs expanded into raging infernos as Toriel entered mama-bear mode, only for them to vanish when she processed just exactly who was supporting her gravely injured child.
"Asgore?" she called out in a cracking voice, breaking into a sprint to reach her family, whereas Asriel remained frozen in shock. It took everything Asgore had to restrain himself against Toriel's weeping and hugging, her cries of "you're back, how are you back?" tugging at all of his heartstrings. The Toriel back home hadn't treated him with this much affection in decades, and it made his heart ache, but he knew this wasn't his Toriel, and that he coldness toward him was deserved. He had done terrible things, Toriel acted coldly toward him for a reason, but it was so tempting to embrace this Toriel like she were his own.
Asgore was stuck in his mental struggle, Sans was out of commission from the fight, and the two Gasters seemed to have their hands full containing the humans based on how their bone cages were rattling and smoking, so Frisk took it upon themself to get introductions out of the way before things got too weird.
"Um, Toriel? I'm sorry but that isn't the Asgore you know."
Toriel was shaken out of her frantic attendance to her long-lost love and gravely injured child to look at the disturbance.
"Oh, hello," she said distractedly, "I don't believe we've met. Asriel, go get some food!" she shouted over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought. The magical food would at least stabilize Chara's severe injury, which hadn't stopped bleeding during the entire 'reunion.' Then the words seemed to register. "Wait, what do you mean he's not the Asgore I know?"
"It means," Sans wheezed, having fallen onto his backside in his utter exhaustion, "that we're from a different timeline, with a different history, and different monsters."
Toriel's eyes narrowed. "You just attacked my child, why should I believe a word you say?" The only thing stopping her from attacking the skeleton was the fact he was clearly running on empty.
"Oh, don't think I didn't have a reason," Sans laughed. "In fact, I was fine with leaving this timeline be once we'd collected our Gaster, but my friends here, including our Asgore, insisted we deal with this timeline's Chara. I guess by 'deal' they meant talk things out or something, I didn't." He chuckled darkly. "By my estimation, I got pretty close. Chara can't have more than 5 hp after that, and it's still going down thanks to that hole in their arm."
Without a word, two fireballs roared to life in Toriel's palms. She prepared to cast them, only for Frisk and Asgore to jump to his defense. Sans, using what little energy he'd recuperated in his brief respite, managed to conjure a very small, very frail looking Gaster Blaster, the blue light in its mouth flickering pathetically as Sans tried to charge a blast.
The situation was diffused slightly by Asriel, who came sprinting back with an armful of food, dropping a glamburger or two in his wake. He skidded to a halt at Chara's side, who was barely conscious in a huge pool of red. After stuffing an entire slice of butterscotch pie in Chara's mouth, the bleeding stopped and they regained a bit of color. Frisk snatched a piece of monster candy that Asriel had dropped and offered it to Sans. He accepted it, letting his Gaster Blaster crumble into nothing. Instead of eating it like a normal person would, it disappeared with a ping.
"Did you just teleport that inside your mouth?" Frisk asked flatly, having never seen the skeleton eat before.
"Unlike Paps, my jaw is fused to the rest of my skull, couldn't open it if I wanted to," he said, having perked up a bit as the candy dissolved into raw magic. "So yes."
"Look," he continued, now speaking to Toriel, "There's a lot to unpack here, so if you agree to a cease-fire and call off the humans back there -" Sans pointed to the still shaking and smoking cage the two Gasters were maintaining, "- we can explain everything."
"I vouch for them," the solid Gaster called through gritted teeth, "they have some very important information for us."
Toriel, though still suspicious, trusted the royal scientist. "Fine," she huffed.
Both Gasters stopped actively maintaining the cage, and in a matter of seconds it exploded in a flaming shockwave. The two humans were panting, clearly having expended a significant amount of energy trying to escape their prison, but they were still in fighting form. It only took a few moments for them to zero in on Sans and start preparing some sort of attack.
"Integrity, Bravery! Stand down!" Toriel preempted. "We've agreed to a ceasefire for now," coupled with a look that said, 'But if I say it's over, hit them with everything you have.'
The Gasters heaved a joint sigh of relief and moved to join the large party in the center of the room.
"They won't attack unless commanded," Toriel said tersely, "now explain why you attacked my child."
Sans, having managed to clamber to his feet, asked, "Well, it'd be easier if you know about determination. Timelines, time travel. Saves, resets. Does any of that ring a bell?" Blank faces from Toriel, Asriel, and the two humans. Only Chara seemed mildly concerned. Sans pinched his brow. "Great. I guess we only found out about that stuff because Gaster met that chatty human he fought, and your Gaster couldn't tell you about it because that would involve revealing the existence of our Gaster, and that was something he wanted to avoid." Sans rocked back and forth on his heels, then snapped his fingers.
"I know!" he said, something nasty creeping into his voice. "We can skip all that and just jump to how Chara is an existential threat to the entire underground and more, and we can kick that off by explaining how your Asgore died." Everyone from the alternate universe flinched, except Chara, who grew paler by the second. "Chara," Sans continued, "I've been told you've refused Doctor Gaster's generous offers to examine your soul. I wonder why that might be." Without warning, Sans' blue eye flared to life and Chara's soul blipped into the physical plane, hovering in front of their chest. Toriel once again prepared to summon a fireball, but cut short when she saw Chara's soul. Instead of a uniform red, like a determination type should be, it had a few large, grey streaks. Indicating the owner had absorbed the soul of a boss monster.
"A few years after Chara fell down, your Asgore got sick. That was part of a plan these two had worked out," Sans said in a strained voice, jabbing his finger at Chara and Asriel, "to get to the surface. But they had to test the poison first, make sure it worked, and who best to try it on than deal 'ol dad, hm? In our timeline, the experiment was a success and our Chara went full psycho, lingered after death, really it's a whole mess you don't need to know about. But your Chara bitched out after they 'accidentally,'" Sans sneered, doing air quotes, "killed your Asgore, and absorbed his soul, too. No human, no matter how determined, lives that long without the soul of a boss monster." Frisk felt Chara try to LOAD again. Couldn't blame them, Frisk wouldn't have wanted to deal with this either.
Toriel slowly turned to look at her children. It was such an absurd claim, but this strange monster she had never seen before, who claimed to come from a different version of the underground, had been right. He wasn't very precise in his details, but the approximate timing and cause of death were correct. And she wasn't there to see her husband, the love of her life, slip away. When the wailing woke here, there was only dust left. His soul was already gone. As her eyes settled on Asriel, who was struggling to hold back tears, and Chara, who was shaking badly, something twisted in her gut. Call it mother's instinct, woman's intuition, whatever, but she knew the short skeleton was telling the truth. The knife twisted in her gut so hard she was left speechless as huge tears welled up in her eyes. The two other humans were standing slack-jawed, Asriel was sobbing quietly, and the crew from the original universe were maintaining a respectful silence. Only Chara managed to choke out a few words, their voice hoarse from disuse.
"I never meant to… he wasn't supposed to…"
San's brow remained a hard line. He had at least four one-liners he was sure would either escalate the situation back to violence or emotionally crush at least a few people, but he restrained himself. When had he allowed this much bitterness to rise to the surface? It was practically impossible to become overwhelmingly nihilistic in an infinite cycle of death and decay like he had been exposed to by his Chara and Frisk, but he had always prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions beneath the surface. He still didn't trust this Chara, but now that his fighting blood had calmed down, his rational mind kicked into gear again. This really was a different Chara. Their universes had split the moment his Asgore had recovered from the poisoning, and theirs… didn't. It had been so many years since then, and a person can change. This Chara really seemed different.
"Look, Chara," he said, the name tasting strange on his tongue without the venom he usually spat it out with, "Frisk and I here probably understand your situation better than anyone else you're ever going to meet. We understand being angry, we understand keeping hate bottled up so tightly that you just know it's going to explode one day, and we definitely understand what it's like to know that determination can change the world in ways nobody else knows about. But every action has a consequence. You need to face yours." His gaze wandered across everyone else in the throne room as he dissociated. Only Frisk noticed his lazy expression harden into a glare as he briefly looked at the two humans.
Toriel stared at her children. The two she loved most of all in this world had killed their father. Her husband. Her love fought the desire to scream and lash out. Part of her said they were her children. Another screamed they had killed her husband. The two sides went back and forth, trying to process the revelation.
"They were just kids!"
"They kept it secret all this time!"
"It was an accident!"
"They poisoned him!"
"They grieved too!"
"That didn't bring him back."
She grabbed her children into a hug as her mind shut down, the action setting all three into an unrestrained fit of bawling.
"I think it's time to go," Asgore said softly. Sans just nodded his head, and with a ping, Sans, Asgore, Frisk and the Gasters were back in the underground lab.
"Why back to the lab?" The solid Gaster asked.
Sans sighed. "My contact back home was going to wait a week before bringing us back, but we found our Gaster, and after seeing that… I don't want to be here anymore. I just want to go home and get this over with."
"You know," Gaster said, "while your Chara certainly seems more powerful from how you have described them, I somewhat envy your situation. You all have a single enemy to direct your energies toward defeating, but us… You just splintered the royal family. Our underground will be feeling the fallout from that revelation for many years to come."
Sans raised an eyebrow as he fiddled with some transmission equipment. "I guess the saying's true, that the grass is always greener somewhere else, because I sure would prefer political drama over an unkillable demon with the intent to destroy everything I know. Maybe you could just erase some memories, rearrange their heads."
"I do not have technology capable of such a thing."
"Oh?" Sans drawled, giving the goopy Gaster a pointed look. "I'm sure you can figure it out. Just ask your doppelganger."
The party fell silent as Sans tinkered. A different problem occupied their minds. Sans was distracting himself jury-rigging a device to communicate with Alphys back home. The two Gasters were thinking about Sans' last jab, one considering how to go about creating such a device, the other thinking back to the exact situation Sans had referred to. Asgore was still trying to process the emotional trainwreck he had witness, and it weighed heavily upon him. And Frisk? Frisk was trying to figure something out. Sans had been acting strangely, and some of his odd glares and barbs were outlining a pattern, one that Frisk was just barely putting together, and they didn't like where it led.
A/N: Surprise. It's been well over a year since I updated this. I grew to loathe writing this story for a long time. Eventually I came to tolerate it again, but this chapter really didn't want to be written. I think it turned out alright. This story will have an ending, I owe it to those who followed this train wreck, and who gave kind words about a story that I no longer feel deserves them. I think I can wrap things up in one, maybe two more chapters of similar length to this one, but we'll see. I make no promises about when they'll drop, because, if you couldn't tell already, I'm not so great at writing on a schedule. Haha.