Reality shudders, and so does Sans.
He sits at the bar at Grillby's with a half-empty ketchup bottle in one hand, and trails off in the middle of telling a joke to Dogaressa. He's always liked Snowdin's chill atmosphere, but the shiver that crawls down his spine leaves him feeling cold.
Something is wrong.
"What is an updog?" Dogaressa re-prompts him.
"Huh? Oh, my bad," he tells her. He slams the rest of his ketchup and leaves the bottle on the counter. "Something just came up, so let me get back to you on that. Grillby, put lunch on my tab." He slides off his stool and heads for the door.
"Hey, Sansyyy!" the swirly-eyed bunny calls from her usual seat. "Wh-wh-where you going?! You only just got here!"
"Heh, sorry," he tells her, winking as he grins. "I gotta whole lotta work I need to slack off on, and time waits for no skeleton."
He doesn't wait for an answer. He's pretty sure he knows where the problem is, and he knows a shortcut there. He opens the door, waves over his shoulder to the other patrons of Grillby's, and strolls out.
Reality shudders, and so does Flowey.
"Where did that dumb kid go?" he mutters to himself, burrowing up and down the spot where he last saw them in Waterfall, right around the crystallized cheese table. Now it's like they've vanished into thin air. He doesn't like it. They've got something they still need to do for him. Don't tell him they stopped playing! They can't just up and leave him! Not after all that! It just isn't like them! It just... it's not like them.
Something is wrong.
"Ugggh! I've had enough of this!" he finally snaps to no one. "Whatever! I don't need them! I don't need anybody! If they're gone, that just makes it easier on me!"
No one answers. Flowey looks around at their lack of audience, then sags, scowling. "Uuuggghhhh. I hate this."
He burrows back into the ground, following the mouse tunnels that lead to gaps in the earth. It's so easy to travel this way, and he can pop up at a moment's notice and disappear the same way. It's the only way to travel, really, and he can just wait until the kid shows up again.
Yeah. They've got to show up here again sooner or later. The SAVE point is right there. Where else could they have gone?
Sans arrives in Waterfall a moment later, in the room where he'd set up a telescope. As an actual telescope, it's useless now, but as a gag item, it's great. He really got the kid with that one way back. Wait, was it all that long ago? It sure feels like it was.
He looks around. There's a monster hanging out, and when Sans hits them up with questions on whether they've noticed anything strange, they mention they've seen the kid, who passed through maybe fifteen minutes ago. Sans thanks them and heads back the way he came.
There's no one in that direction, though, and when Sans questions monsters on the other side, they say they haven't seen the kid. Sans rubs his skull and looks back in the direction of the telescope room. He's got a bad feeling about this.
On the plus side, when he heads back again, he finds the kid no problem.
On the minus side, when he finds them, he finds them collapsed near a table, unmoving.
Sans can move pretty fast when he wants to, and he's at their side in an instant. "Kid! Buddy! Pal! Stay with me!" he urges, picking them up carefully and rolling them right-side up. Their head lolls back, and he has to support it with one hand. He checks their pulse, and thank god, it's still beating. He taps their cheek, and they make a little noise but don't wake up.
"What the heck happened, kid?" he murmurs. Occam's razor suggests they ran afoul of an ill-tempered monster, but Sans has a gut feeling that's not right.
He looks up, back and forth. He could've sworn that he felt something tear in the fabric of reality itself, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what. He wasn't sure what (if anything) he'd be able to do about it, but he figured he'd better take a look, if nothing else. He hadn't expected to see the kid here per se, but he's also not surprised to find them. Everything else looks normal. So did what happened happen to the human...?
"Not gonna find any answers lying around here, huh, kiddo?" he murmurs, winking an eye shut. "C'mon. Let's get you somewhere safe so you can tell me what's up. I know a... well, I guess there's no point in telling you, huh?"
The human of course doesn't respond. That's fine, since Sans was talking for his own benefit anyway. He hefts the kid up - they're awfully light; what'd they do with all the 'dogs he sold them? - and once he's got them on his back, turns and walks for home.
Someone's walking back and forth aboveground. Flowey's had plenty of practice telling when he should and shouldn't poke his head up; it's why he can dive back down in an instant, anytime, anywhere. The footfalls don't sound right for the kid, though. Whose are they? They sound familiar. He concentrates to better figure it -
"OW!"
Flowey's stem bends nearly double when something impacts with the back of his head and rolls away. It rolls back a little when it reaches the dead-end side of the tunnel. He mutters several of the most vile curses he knows ("tea and sugar, butterscotch, cinnamon, snail pie, CHOCOLATE") and rubs his petals, then glares over at the rock that fell down the mouse hole.
It's not a rock. Flowey knows at a glance that it's much, much more valuable than that. Its bright, shiny glow entrances him, and he approaches in a mix of wonder and disbelief.
"Papyrus? Hey, Papyrus! I need to use your bed, okay?" Sans calls as he walks into his house. "Papyrus, you here?"
There's no answer. Sans shrugs the kid up his back a little higher and wishes he'd taken a shortcut direct to his brother's room as he carries them up the stairs. He could take the kid into his own room, but heck, Papyrus's door is closer and his bed is actually made. Besides, he knows his brother won't mind. He'll probably insist on whipping the kid up some get-well spaghetti once he finds out they collapsed, so it's probably better for their health he isn't here right now.
He tucks the human in and takes a seat next to them. It occurs to him after he's already sat down that they might need a drink of water or something to eat when they wake up, but... he's already sat down. It also occurs to him that it might be a while before they wake up, so he should probably grab something to read, but... again, he's already sat down. Fortunately, before he can debate with himself too much on whether the effort is worth it, they begin to stir.
"Hey, kiddo," he greets them, keeping his smile relaxed and his hands in his hoodie pockets. "You sure gave me a - woah, hey, you okay?"
They'd blinked blearily a couple times as he spoke, and when they focused on him, they scrabbled upright in an open panic. He stares as they curl around, shivering, nearly pressing their head to the wall as they grip the side of Papyrus's bed.
"Calm down, kid. It's all right," Sans soothes them, getting up without thinking to rest a hand on their shoulder. They flinch and tense, and he moves his hand away. "You're safe here. Nothing's gonna hurt you now." He winks. "Papyrus would have a real bone to pick with me otherwise."
They don't even react. They're shuddering, and based on the little noises they're making, Sans is pretty sure it's because they're crying. Fortunately, he has some paper napkins handy in a pocket, stuffed there from when he was at Grillby's ten minutes ago. He pulls out the wad and leans over the kid to set it down next to their hand. They shiver for a few more seconds, then grab it and press it to their face.
"Who hurt you, kid?" he says softly, watching them. "What hurt you?"
They sob. Sans has a feeling he was right on the money. He eases himself down onto the edge of Papyrus's bed, one leg draped off the side.
"You don't need to tell me anything you don't wanna, kiddo," he reassures them. "But if or when you do wanna talk about it, I'm right here. Okay?"
They sob harder. It hurts Sans to listen to it, not that he's gonna tell the poor kid that, and he turns his gaze to his brother's bookcase. It's got all his favorites, from children's books to complex manuals on puzzle construction. Sans wonders if maybe he should get Papyrus a few pasta-specific recipe books. He'd probably have to find them first, though.
The kid's sobs die down, but their breathing is sharp and hard and fast. He glances back over at them. He's never seem them so panicked or stressed out. Come to think, it's kind of weird that they don't have a scratch on their body. Of course, anything could happen to someone who got caught in some kind of dimensional anomaly, but they're really tense. Actually, the way they're holding their back and shoulders reminds him of...
"Oh, great," he mutters. "You're the other-kid, aren't you?"
The other-kid freezes.
Sans sighs, trying to quell his irritation. "Look, I'm not gonna say anything bad," he says flatly. "Can you put the kid on the line for me?"
Their breath hitches and speeds up, and they shake their head.
Sans's irritation surges. A brand new bad feeling keeps it in check. "Why not?"
They shake their head again, harder this time.
Sans pauses. "You... are the other-kid, right?"
A long pause. Then, very slowly, they nod once.
If nothing else, Sans appreciates their honesty. "So? Why not, then?"
They take several more heavy breaths, then squeak, "I can't."
His bad feeling intensifies. "What do you mean? What's wrong with the kid?"
"They're not here."
The bad feeling is now a hunch, and when Sans flares his blue eye, he confirms the worst possible scenario.
The soulless human vessel before Sans screams, "They're not here!"
Flowey didn't really need to get this close, but these kinds of things have a certain allure for someone like him. The soft, warm glow lights up his features with a bloody hue. As he drinks in the sight of the bright red heart, a malevolent grin cuts his face in two. The SOUL rises in accordance to Flowey's will, and his cackling fills the underground.
The gray room is gone, but the world keeps falling apart around Chara.
The first thing they see when they wake up is Sans, and they completely panic, scrambling around so they don't show him their face.
Frisk. Frisk, where are you? Frisk, are you okay? Frisk, Sans is here, you need to come out, they beg, but there's no response. Frisk. Frisk. Frisk! FRISK!
But the more they yell, the more it sinks in that Frisk isn't ignoring them. Frisk isn't there. The resonance of their SOUL has vanished and left behind an empty void.
It happened in the gray room. There's no question of it; the third one as much as said so. Chara doesn't want to think about that, and unfortunately, they've got plenty to think about instead, like how Frisk was scared, and reluctant, and in pain. Yet like the idiot they are, Chara had kept insisting they try that stupid exploration. And now - now Frisk is gone.
They nearly yelp when Sans touches their shoulder, and thank god, he immediately pulls his hand away. But he's saying nice words, soothing words, words that aren't for a rotten ugly miserable worthless thing like them. They begin to shake and cry, and they hate themselves for crying but they can't stop, because they know this isn't for them, this kindness and concern is not for them, it never has and never will be for them, and they don't have the guts to even admit the truth, just like with the buttercup pie -
A few napkins drop down near their hand. Their stomach turns, but they grab them anyway. They don't want Sans to know they're crying, even though the only reason he'd give them this is if he already knows. And he keeps being nice, he keeps being supportive, and Chara can only cry harder because - who hurt them? What hurt them? They hurt them. Frisk is gone, their SOUL is nowhere, and it's all Chara's fault. If only they hadn't pushed Frisk into searching for Gaster. If only they'd listened to Frisk when they wanted to back out! Didn't this exact same thing happen with Asriel? Asriel wanted to back out, but they had to have their own way, they had to be right, and now everything is ruined forever again.
It's an intense effort, but after a couple of minutes, they start to rein their crying in. Now, though, they can't stop hyperventilating, because the gravity of what they've done is crushing in on them. Frisk is gone. Frisk really is gone. Their SOUL has probably been shattered across time and space just like Gaster was. What are they going to do? What are they going to do? How can they possibly ever make up for this? They can't. They can't. They know they can't, no more than they can make up for Asriel being trapped in a soulless flower body. They can't even punish themselves with death because this is Frisk's body, this is the last thing they have of them, and if they destroy even that then what could they -
"Oh, great," Sans mutters. "You're the other-kid, aren't you?"
Chara freezes.
No, they quail. Why? I don't know what to do! Someone help me!
But nobody answers. Even the third one's presence has gone.
"Look, I'm not gonna say anything bad," he says, even though he sounds like he wants to. Chara knows that tone of voice well. "Can you put the kid on the line for me?"
No no no no no no no, they beg, but they know no one will answer their pleas. They can only shake their head, not trusting themselves to speak aloud.
"Why not?"
Stop! Stop asking me questions! Go away! Leave me alone! You hate me, so stop talking to me! Chara wants to scream. Instead, they shake their head harder.
"You... are the other-kid, right?"
For a moment, Chara stops breathing. In that moment, a world stretches out before them: a world where they pretend to be Frisk, where Frisk's friends become their friends, where they can keep Frisk alive in at least this one small way.
But no. They'd mess that up too. And the more they picture it, the less they can bear to take this from them, too.
And so, certain they're signing their death warrant, they nod once.
"So? Why not, then?"
Chara starts to hyperventilate again. They press the napkins harder to their mouth and manage to squeak out, "I can't."
Sans's voice turns wary. "What do you mean? What's wrong with the kid?"
"They're not here. They're not here!" they scream, and the dam has burst. "They're gone, their SOUL is gone, it's gone forever! And it's all..." They dig their nails into their hair and drag down hard. The pain isn't enough. They deserve much, much more pain than this. "It's all because of me! It's all... ahaha... ahahahaha!"
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of them, hot and sour like vomit, like when they realized what their prank pie had nearly done to their adoptive dad. It's a horrible sound and it grates against their own ears, but they can't stop. They pound a fist on the mattress over and over, tears streaming down their face, but their lungs still convulse in the shape of a murderer's smile.
"What the hell is your problem, other-kid? What did you do?" Sans demands.
They laugh harder. Their sides feel like they're going to split. If only they could break out of this body and go somewhere where they could never hurt anybody again. "Do you want to kill me?! Ahahaha! You should! But it won't help you any! It's already too late!"
They can't see Sans's expression, but they can feel their sins crawling on their back. "The kid trusted you. They liked you," he states coldly. His words and the restrained anger they contain slide between Chara's ribs. He really loves Frisk, doesn't he? The knowledge makes them nearly gag on their laughter. "And you stabbed them in the back? Why? What good would that even do you?"
"Good? Good? Ahahahaha! Since when was this ever about good?! You already know what a rotten, worthless thing I am, Sans!"
He pauses, who knows or cares why at this point. "Why?" he repeats, quieter this time. "Why would you do that? What reason could possibly have possessed you?"
Chara had asked the same question of the third one. Screamed it, really. They and Frisk had just escaped from the gray room, but Frisk was still falling apart. In a body-wracking convulsion, they'd spat out their SOUL, and Chara had begged the third one to do something, to use Their reality-cracking powers to fix Their mistake.
Mistake? No, This Was On Purpose, They had said. It's Really Interesting, Isn't It?
This response - and what Gaster had meant about being tricked - had struck Chara like oncoming traffic. WHY? they had screamed. Why would You do that?! What reason could You possibly have?!
"Aahahaha! Why? Hahahah... ahah, aha - To see what would happen, of course! What other reason is there?!" Chara wails/crows, repeating the answer They'd told them. They punch the mattress harder, but it's no good; they can't possibly hurt themselves like this. They slam themselves against the wall, but the impact is small and pathetic, just like them. They scratch at the side of their face, as if they could dig out the dirty, rotten thing inside the cage of flesh.
"Stop that," Sans says, and his voice is very close, but he doesn't touch them. Chara hears fear in his voice. "Is this a joke to you?"
They giggle, raking their nails down one last time. "A joke? Ahahaha... Yeah! A joke! It's all a really bad joke, isn't it!?" They sink onto their haunches and let their arms drop to their sides. "You like bad jokes, right, Sans? Then you should love this one!" they burble. "You know why we couldn't guarantee we won't reset at the end of this timeline? It's because we can't actually leave the Underground! Asgore dies, and his SOUL is destroyed, and all the human SOULs are stolen! No matter what! There's no way out! So at the end, there's nothing we can do but reset!"
Their grin is hurting their face. It's hurt for a while now. Good. They tilt their face over to finally show it to him, and are rewarded with his stare of horror. "See? Isn't it funny? Don't you just have to laugh? Your great tormentor is just as trapped as you are! Ahahahaha! We're all stuck in this hellhole together, Sans. Forever!"
It's got nothing at all to do with what happened to Frisk, of course. But just then, Chara wants someone else to be as utterly devastated as they are. Based on how Sans's eyes blank out and his breathing picks up and his entire body quivers, it looks like they succeeded. Chara wheezes, then slowly sinks back down onto the mattress as their laughter cracks and drifts.
"Everything you or I have ever tried to do is pointless," they gasp, hanging their head. Their hair veils their face, and they dig their nails into the sheets. "So if it's pointless, why not destroy it all? Why not wreck this entire sad, empty world?! This horrible, meaningless world..." Their breath hitches. "...that..." Their laughter breaks apart. "...they wanted to save."
They're so good at wrecking everything, aren't they?
"Frisk..." they squeak, squeezing their eyes shut. No matter how hard they do, they can't shut them hard enough to keep the tears from leaking out. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." They sob. "Why did I push you? Why didn't I listen?" They can't tell if they're laughing or crying anymore. "Why do I always have to ruin everything I love?"
When they breathe out, they start to emit a soft keening noise. The last of their strength drains from their body with it. No - they were never strong in the first place, were they? They could only fake it as long as they had someone use to use as a crutch. Asriel. Frisk. The third one. They never could do anything on their own. If Sans kills them now, it would be a mercy.
But after a long moment, Sans only gets up from his seat and shuffles out of the room.
Chara shuts their eyes. Who even cares. Nothing matters anymore.
Sans is used to disappointment. He's grown numb to it. When you try and try and never succeed - when time itself is your enemy, a plaything of an anomaly that can wipe out any progress you make anytime it wants to - the only thing you can do is accept you won't get what you really want and make do with what's left.
He can't make do with this.
His slippers scuff on the floor as he wobbles down the stairs. He makes it less than halfway before even that much effort is too much for him, and he slumps down right where he is.
"Wow," he murmurs, staring into space. "Wow," he repeats. "So... you've been resetting 'cause you can't go home, so you've got nothing else you can do but reset to try to find the way, huh... Wow... That's a hell of a joke, other-kid." His smile grows while his eyelights shrink, and he hunches over to grab his sweaty skull. "So why don't I feel like laughing...?"
He trembles. He'd intended to settle his nerves by grabbing a bite at Grillby's, tell a few bad jokes, forget about what he just heard for a while, but it's impossible. He can't even muster the will to make it to the couch and turn the TV on. It's too much. The kid's died and left behind a husk of despair, he couldn't keep his promise, and if the other-kid wasn't lying - and sure, they could well be, but he feels deep in his bones that they're not - the resets will never end. He'll never be able to escape. Just like the other-kid said... he's trapped. They all are.
That alone is a direct hit to what remains of his shriveled-up motivation to do anything, ever. The only possible mercy is knowing that he'll forget all this the next time a reset happens, and what the hell kind of mercy is that?
He curls up on himself and escapes into unconsciousness.