-.-.-.-.-.-

14:

Remember When…?

Frisk and Gaster

(Third POV)

-.-.-.-.-.-

Young Frisk shivered at the bitter cold. The tears she had shed about leaving her mama behind chilled her cheeks. It was always difficult to leave Toriel. But Frisk knew she had to go; she wanted to give the monsters back their freedom. The innocent soul wanted to show her new mother the real stars.

She wanted to show all the monsters their beauty. Frisk hoped they would see that humans weren't all evil, but she didn't have any luck yet. Again, she shivered intensely, but it wasn't the cold this time.

As the seventh soul, Frisk didn't know what she could do now at seven, but she felt she had to do something to help the Monster Race. The voice in her head told her Frisk had to kill to survive as they always did in the Underground. However, was that true?

Frisk often obeyed their orders, but they didn't get her what she desired. Instead, they only gave her pain as she relived the looks of betrayal on her friends' faces. The worst was Sans. His face was the one that starred the most in her nightmares.

As the wind gently played with her bob, her heart hammered at the memory of her nightly nightmares. Flashes of her mistakes made the lost girl want to do better. Yet, all Frisk wanted to do was make the skeletal judge proud. She tried to make him smile at her once again, like before:

But it was too late.

"Hey, kiddo, I'm sorry…...but I have to do this."

While the howling wind carried that sad statement, a pain stabbed at her chest, and her beautiful eyes went wide. Three bones stuck out from her upper body.

A silent scream bubbled from her throat with blood. The thick red liquid rolled down her chin as she fell to her knees, unsure what happened when pink slippers came into view. Her heart sank heavily. Frisk knew those slippers too well:

Her vision was blurry, but she could tell that Sans was crying as he held to her like a small child with his beloved dying pet. Sans was crying for her, the one that killed everyone they both loved. But he was still there, crying for her. He was mourning her.

Why? She pondered sadly, feeling his now strangely warm hand grip her own. After all Frisk had done, she deserved to be buried six feet under, forgotten, and never to be seen again.

But there Sans was, crying, soothing her with loving words as she slowly faded into the endless darkness death brought:

"I'm sorry, kiddo. I'm so sorry." Sans whispered hoarsely, brushing the sweaty strands out of her fluttering eyes. But Frisk just smiled as she shook her head, and her hand reached to his hard but smooth cheek.

"Don't…be….I deserve…"

Her broken phrase caused him to tighten his hold on her body, tears hitting her forehead as he leaned against hers.

Sans wished he didn't have to do this, but he couldn't let the Demon retake her. There wasn't a single trace of her; only Frisk's dulled eyes stared up at him. Her once beautiful eyes were now filled with self-doubts. The Angel thought this was her fault, that he should hate her.

But he didn't. He loved Frisk. Despite her sins, he loved her.

She was his kiddo, but her eyes showed no sign of her. They were dead. They reminded the skeleton of all his mistakes, making him relive every damn one, and as the last of her lights went out, something blackened his soul as her body went limp in his arms.

This was the last thing Sans saw before he became Error, twisting his love into hate. His memories of that life were replaced with hateful ones.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Sixteen-year-old Frisk searched the bar, her hands nervously tightened around her long tutu as the monsters danced on the open spot. Maybe this was a bad idea, she considered as her eyes closed.

She knew she had to leave if she wanted to save her monster mother and friends from this hell. But Frisk's dancing skills were minimal compared to the others; she was worried that she wouldn't get far at her level. However, that worry didn't lessen her determination to free them.

Frisk Dreemurr would fulfill her promise.

A tap on her shoulder startled her from her doubtful thoughts, swirling to see Sans with his hood shadowing his sockets with a bright smile. That smile sent a slight blush to her peach-colored cheeks, smiling. But, then, the skeleton worsened the blush as he reached a bony hand out to her fidgeting form:

"Hey kid, remember me? Why don't we dance together? Might be fun." The male grinned lazily, but her nerves only got worse.

Frisk bit her lip, lifting her hands to politely decline. But Sans took no refusal. Instead, he chuckled before dragging her to the full dancefloor, winking at Frisk.

"Stop thinking, kid. Just let the music move you." He gently ordered; his limbs popped into his dance. But, this time, Sans fine-tuned his movements, matching her graceful movements while she obeyed.

Their unique styles gradually blended into one. Sans still popped and rolled in his hip-hop manner, but he almost molded their dance into one rare movement as the steady melody built.

Frisk still was a ball of nerves when he soothed her with his easy grin. As if the male wanted to make her feel at ease with him:

And soon, it worked. Frisk's nerves settled into laughter as the souls met, their hands barely touching before moving away with hips swaying. For the first time in weeks, she felt free—like the slow, beautiful melody was her wings, transforming the Angel into a true angel.

She was breathtaking. At that moment, all eyes were on Frisk, including Sans'. His soul wiggled at the sight as his blackened sockets traced her movements.

He never has seen anything more beautiful before, and his soul noticed. Sans gritted his teeth, placing a hand to trap it inside, but it was strong:

"Shit." He cursed under his breath, still moving to hide his inner fight, but his soul disobeyed him. Instead, the soul slowly flowed above his chest, signaling her own to appear.

But Frisk didn't notice while her soul flowed as well. She was too deep. She closed her eyes, loving the feeling of freedom.

Her ballet flat-cladded feet pointed at her thigh as the song, powerful, spun with her, her tutu flaring. But then, the warm feeling got a lot more intense as the minutes went on.

Frisk gasped loudly, snapping her eyes open just when her soul flowed higher above her head, facing Sans' blue soul. She furrowed her brows in confusion, turning to her dancing partner, who pinned her with an unreadable expression. However, that unknown look caused another blush to her cheeks because of the heat of his stare. His sole seen pupil glowed against the black:

"How about we really dance together, sweetheart?"

After his breathy whisper met her ears, her heart began to race with fear. But when she stared into his sockets, it soothed her. So, she sighed as her hand lifted to meet his. Her heartbeat steadied the moment their hands touched.

Once their hands met, the song softly repeated itself, more powerful this time, as the skeleton pulled her to him. Then, steadily led them to this smooth rhythm, moving their bodies in a slow hip-hop and ballet mix.

Their souls moved closer together without breaking eye contact as the dance grew more enthusiastic. Frisk's smile grew with every second:

Soon, their movements got bolder—without her realizing it—Frisk danced beautifully, without any more doubt, their souls mirroring every move as they grew closer.

The male laughed heartily, spinning her into the middle of the room, where she swayed like no one was watching. Frisk's hips swayed to the beat as she swung her legs gracefully, getting lost in the music. But not Sans—no, Sans got lost in her moves.

When the song reached the climax, she looked back just when the skeleton crooked a finger at her. The brunette grinned widely before running toward the monster and jumping into his arms, folding her body so her legs were inside the male's hold as he slowly spun them around to the ground. Their souls finally met as if the silly things were trying to mirror their owners' movements.

The couple's gasps filled the room, and both eyes widened. As soon as they came full circle, Frisk let her body unfold, not even caring they were being watched by the other monsters. She just stretched her legs out on either side of her while her gaze stayed tangled with his heated stare.

They were so close that both of their breath tickled their skin, but as if they were frozen by each other's heated gaze, neither moved a muscle to pull away. The couple couldn't. They needed to be in each other's arms.

Instead, they slowly met in the middle. Slowly, lips and teeth met in an awkward kiss. The seemingly innocent kiss sent a burning sensation through their bodies, warming them to a fever pitch. It lasted for what seemed like hours, but neither creature cared. It felt too right to fight, so why even try?

They soon became entangled as it turned into a proper kiss, filled with pure passion.

Frisk's arms encircled themselves around Sans' neck as he pinned her to him. But, alas, the beings eventually needed to come up for air. So the partners hesitatingly pulled away only a few inches away from the other person but with a broad smile placed on each of their faces:

"Well, you're not bad, kid." Sans teased gently as he traced her jawline with his finger tenderly, unable to address what just happened.

She gave the male a sweet smile, her cheeks still flushed as she nodded slowly. It seemed as if she didn't want to talk about it either while she raised her hands in the air:

'Back at you, Sans.'

The pair didn't know it at that time, but this was the turning point—where Frisk's age change became harder to ignore. This was the first time they kissed.

-.-.-.-.-.-

A few timelines later, everyone had a good ending. They had their freedom. Shortly after, Frisk was accepted as the ambassador and given a crown, which the new princess pridefully held. Frisk loved being able to help, but it was difficult to mold the two races gradually together:

Yes, she wanted to help both races to blend with little or no problems—she would do anything to guide them into a more peaceful existence. But Frisk struggled with her new responsibility. She was thankful that Sans and Papyrus were there to help advise her while working as her guards. Especially Sans, who was always there by her side.

However, lately, he had been acting off. Like he doubted her again. And Frisk knew the question was coming. She only wondered when he would broach the subject with her.

One day, as the two sat by a lake closer to Ebott to take a breather before they returned to work, enjoying the peace, he finally snapped. After moments of silence, Sans looked over to the teen as he ran his tongue across his teeth.

He didn't want to stress her out more after a day of dealing with dumb yahoos wishing to start a fight against a poor soul, either humans or monsters. But the question burned on the tip of his tongue for months, making it difficult to focus.

Now, the burning got too much to fight; he needed to know. If Sans didn't, he knew the rushing thoughts wouldn't stop. Sans had to ask.

It has been years since Frisk freed them. But as wonderful as everything had been, Sans couldn't help but worry about the future. It was always calm before the storm hit.

Sans hated to be skeptical of this happiness. He was finally feeling comfortable, he didn't want to doubt her capability to keep their promise, but he was unsure, as always.

"Hey, sweetheart?" The male mumbled as he stuffed his hands into his hoodie's pockets, his bony feet dunked in the lukewarm water lazily:

'Yes, Sans?'

Sans never got over how beautiful her movements were, he mused dryly as he closed his sockets to steel himself before letting a breath out. Then, slowly, Sans finally turned to the sixteen-year-old with a firm expression placed on his skull after a moment.

He didn't want to shatter his trust for her, the warm feeling growing in his chest for Frisk, but his insomnia had been back on Sans again without knowing. He couldn't rest until he had reassurance and peace. He needed to hear it from Frisk before the monster could move on.

"When are you going to reset? I want to be prepared when you do." The skeletal male itched his cheek, his stomach flipping when he thought of her answer, fearing the worst.

The beautiful teen snickered softly, strangely glad he finally asked. She wanted to clear this up eventually. Frisk knew that there was almost always a reset, no matter what she tried. But she was done hurting Sans. The Angel was going to keep her promise the best way she could. So with that thought swirling in her mind, she nodded as she found the right words to slay his worries.

But the silence only made his soul hammer more with nerves as it grew heavily, his mind conjuring all sorts of outcomes. Nightmarish visions of her eyes turning blood red and the knife approaching him almost had him running to the hills.

The ancient twenty-year-old monster really didn't want to relive that again anytime soon. Especially now, since Sans doubted he could be able to stop her. The mere thought sickened him, but he would do his job if he needed to.

No matter how much he cared for her, he would judge her:

But he didn't need to worry. Frisk reached over to guide his face towards her before taking a bony hand into her own with a reassuring smile, breaking the heavy silence with her free hand. And once he read her hand, his doubts were fading fast like Napstablook when startled, melting into her gentle touch:

'I made you a promise, Sans, and I plan to keep it. I don't know what the future holds for us or if resets will happen. But it won't be by me.'

Sans closed his eyes, relieved before he opened his sockets as his grin turned wide. The skeleton nodded as he gently rested his forehead against hers; his cool breath fanned her face.

"That's all I needed to know." At that, the teen smiled shyly, tapping his chest with her hand. She often made a gesture to soothe him, ever since she was a small girl.

That night, the stars seemed to be brighter to Sans, even if he knew it might end someday. But that was all right. He cared about if she took back all their work on her choice.

But, sadly, he knew the reset would come sooner than later. They always did. The moment he was happy, Frisk was taken away from them. Him.

It was no wonder why Sans was so bitter. In fact, he idly wondered if someone above hated him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Frisk stared at the closed doors with a sad expression as Toriel continued to plead with her daughter to come back. But she needed to leave. She needed to fix this, whatever was wrong with this world:

Frisk didn't know why she felt this way, but she thought she had fallen here before. However, this time, it seemed different. Colder, more arduous, just like…

Yes, she remembered now. It was Underfell's twin. She frowned at her hand where a big flower stood.

But now, every time she died, she gained herself more flowers. And with every flower, her body turned number gradually. Now, the numbness doesn't affect her movement, so she could deal with it, but she was worried about further down the line. Frisk could become blind, lost in the dark. Or worse, she could meet her final end.

And what would happen to the Monsters? They would be trapped in this world, lost to the world, and left to fall deeper into their own darkness. And after seeing what this world did to her mother, she shuddered at the idea of the others.

But she was determined:

Frisk was determined to save them; she was determined to keep her promise to…to…

To whom?

She didn't know, but she would do anything to ensure that the promise would be fulfilled.

"Frisk, we need to go." Flowery's quiet tone brought her back to reality, nodding before readjusting Flowery in her hold as she tried to shield him from the cold.

Frisk's mother's cries followed her onto the snowy path, but she was doing this for her. And that filled her with even more determination. She would open the barrier and show the humans and monsters the way of mercy, of kindness. Frisk would show them, no matter the cost.

Flowery stayed silent as they made their way down the path. However, Frisk sensed that he was frightened about something. She had a feeling that he knew something but didn't want to panic his charge just yet.

She shuddered at first at that thought. But soon, she fiercely shook in fear when the silence was broken, sending terror through her veins as her orbs widened:

"Hey, sweetheart, don't you know how to greet a new pal?"

Frisk gulped deeply, but she tried to swallow her fear. She wasn't expecting another monster just yet. Startled, Frisk jumped at the strange, deep voice—the human almost dropped Flowery in progress. She quickly regripped his boot and mumbled a quiet apology before she swung around with a glare in her eyes, but that glare faded into a look of slight familiarity.

Who is this grinning skeleton? Frisk questioned in the walls of her mind as she stared at his bony hand, trying to ignore the urge to hug this nameless monster before she moved her eyes to his black sockets. His grin grew fierce as he urged her forward:

"Well, sweetie? Won't you shake my hand?"

"Frisk, don't!"

But she didn't listen. She needed to hold this being's hand; she just did.

However, the moment she did, fate was set in motion again, as the buzzer earned the flower another numbing flower. Then, as the blackness swallowed her, Frisk faintly heard the deep voice snicker.

"Sorry, kid, but it's kill or be killed here."

So, the story continued.

However, this time, their story became a little sweeter, despite the still tough edge of this world. There was a slight change with every reset, the change gradual in Sans and then in the others. As they went on, the monsters became softer towards Frisk, especially Sans. As if they viewed the girl as their redeeming quality, despite the few times their brutal nature showed through.

They began to love her.

But the girl soon began to wonder as the journey continued; what had changed? If only she knew.

.-.-.-.-.-.-

Frisk sighed deeply at the warmth of Grillsby's, relishing it as she followed behind Sans in from the cold. It was freezing today, so she figured it was a perfect time for a break before trying to move past Papyrus.

They both sat down at the bar, chatting idly before Grillsby took their orders; both of fries, but she voiced her desire for ketchup while Sans wanted his beloved mustard. Frisk always wondered why he loved it so much, but he never told her.

Honestly, Sans never told her anything about himself, but he was oddly soft with her. He seemed like a good monster underneath his rough edges despite killing her or leading to her death.

Grillsby nodded silently, leaving the pair to their awkward silence before the skeletal male breathed deeply as he lit a cigarette and then broke the silence:

"Hey, sweetheart?" Sans' tone was softer than usual. Unsure of why, Frisk shivered slightly, nervous about his following words, before nodding towards him.

"Why are you so nice to everyone if they're so cruel to you?"

Frisk smiled as she leaned on the bar, her mind reeling with answers, but only one answer rang true. So, with a giggle, she turned back to her friend.

"Can be rude, don't want to." She stated as Grillsby set their meal in front of them, her smile still shining.

It was true too. Frisk wanted to be something they hadn't seen before. Frisk wanted to be something that they needed. She didn't want to be just another human who reinforces their beliefs about her race. She knew of the darkness in humans, but she also learned about the kindness they could show.

And Frisk wanted to show the Monsters that kindness. To teach them that there are diverse ways to be.

That thought made her grin while she gripped the red bottle and turned to the complex monster, her voice a bit gravelly but cheerful:

"Cheers!" She giggled as he tapped his mustard bottle against her much preferable ketchup one. An unnoticed bright red blush, almost matching his turtleneck, sat across his bony face.

It seemed her answer was enough for him. Sans gave the beautiful flower a toothy grin as he nodded.

"Heh. Yeah, kid. Cheers, sweetheart."

This was her favorite part of him, she decided. The softer Sans, Frisk smiled as she stared at the male in the corner of her eyes.

Sans had a softer side, something familiar under the cruel madness that swallowed everyone as she thought before. But, of course, the kinder side was only shown to her when they were alone earlier. But, Frisk soon noticed that side showed up more even in front of his dominating brother now.

His nickname for her was voiced more now as well, she remembered with a bright blush before she quickly moved her rubies to her meal:

It was funny how one silly nickname could heat up her insides into a warm, comforting swirl.

But, she wondered, when did it start, this fluttering?

-.-.-.-.-.-

Frisk groaned, her head pounding with the sudden rush of memories. The flower laid still for a moment, steadying her heart. Then, with her spirit steadied, Frisk wiggled deeply as the dimmed lights of Hotland poured into the large room. The flower hissed while the light blinded Frisk as she opened her eyes ever-so-slowly, slowly waking back to the real world once more.

That was intense, she mused, as she opened her blues again before she pushed up in the bed. She looked down at her locket as she smiled slightly, grabbing the small heart into her hand.

She was back in her hotel room, but her mind was reeling too much for her to notice. All she could see was the small red heart in her palm. The sight brought warmth to her chest, clinging to the locket when Chara's voice sounded off the walls of her mind:

Are you okay, sis?

Frisk breathed through her nose, turning her eyes to find Sans resting in a seat by the bed. She smiled softly, stroking his skull before she breathed and nodded as she answered back:

Yeah, I'm better than I've ever been.

What do you mean? Chara's tone sounded confused but hopeful. Had she finally realized it'll be better to reveal secrets than hide them?

Frisk beamed at Sans' slumbering form as she carefully traced his jawbone as if the teen was trying to remember every detail. Frisk swirled her fingers over the many curves, not wanting to move. But Frisk knew she had to, for her sanity. So, with a sigh, she moved from the bed, careful to not wake him just yet.

She stared at him for a moment, her feelings growing as she placed a hand over her chest before moving to the window.

The feeling of their souls dancing stole her breath again. That was Soul Bonding. It had to be. Frisk knew it had to be. And it felt so powerful, so right. She needed to tell him something, but what? She sighed deeply, leaning her forehead against the cool glass:

I know what I need to do, but how?

How to do what?

She smirked at her reflection, knowing Chara knew, but she wanted to be sure. And that was fine:

Telling him, Chara.

You mean—

Yes.

In the months she spent here in the Underground, Frisk learned about love of many forms, from the parental love she so desperately needed to the love of a sibling the brunette never knew she needed. But, of all the states, she finally understood why she always felt displaced on the surface. Why she felt less than perfect.

Frisk was missing a piece of herself, a missing piece to her being. She was missing her bond.

All those years, all those haunting dreams, he was there. Waiting for Frisk to learn the final form of love, a love that only he could give her. She finally knew that Sans was the faceless monster who teased and touched her lovingly. Frisk just didn't understand that back on the surface. There was no way she could, she knew. But, under all the happiness, she felt so sad.

How long had Sans been waiting?

Frisk didn't want to keep him waiting:

She knew she was missing memories still, but she didn't want to wait to recover all the memories to tell him. She had lost too much time already; she didn't want to waste any more if she could.

Frisk looked over her shoulder, feeling a warmth from her chest. She knew she had to tell Sans. Otherwise, it would eat her up inside:

But how?

Frisk never thought this was possible for her for half of her life. She never thought she would have a breathing male to confess to. Yet, Frisk was staring at the only male the flower would ever think of revealing feelings to. And she had no idea how to deal with it.

She breathed deeply and climbed back into the comfortable bed, settling on her side while her mind rushed with her blues trained on Sans.

She didn't know how she was going to confess. However, she knew she was going to. Because with Sans by her side, she was a part of a beautiful world as something more than she ever thought she could be. She smiled as she clung to his hand, ready to finally be herself as sleep claimed her again.

As Frisk drifted into sleep's darkness, her sister silently cheered to herself.

Chara might be stuck inside of Frisk's mind, she will never be able to say her own feelings, but she really didn't care. She put herself here by her stupidity; she deserved this. Frisk didn't, all she ever wanted was her friends' freedom, and Chara used that. But, now, Chara had the chance to fix her mistakes.

Maybe this time, they all could be free if Frisk remembers in time…

-.-.-.-.-

Gaster growled deeply, turning from the sight, massaging his temple. This was bad. They would break the spell at this rate without genuinely knowing it, and all his carefully laid plans would be ruined.

He needed a new plan and fast, but what should the old skeleton do? He doubted he could recruit Error after all the idiot did to help the foolish couple. He was far gone to use.

Unless…...

After a few moments, the ancient skeleton stood straight as a thought came to him. Yes, Error, Gaster should make it worth his wild.

But what could he offer the broken skeleton that would make him join him?

Another growl escaped Gaster's hyoid, racking his brain for a suitable answer. But then, his stilted sockets widened as they moved back to the slumbering couple in the scene.

The girl….

Error loved her; he wanted her.

Gaster grinned widely at that thought, moving to the middle of the empty, echoing room:

"I know you can hear me, Error. I have a treaty to discuss with you."

A few moments later, Error appeared with a deep scowl on his teeth and a dangerous glint in his blazing sockets.

"What do you want, Gaster? I'm not gonna join your sick plan, so there's no reason to be here."

"Oh? Is there really no reason? Maybe you need to hear me out before you storm away?" Gaster asked softly, slithering closer like a snake, grinning maddeningly.

Error leered at the other male, his hand glowing cautiously. He didn't know what the crazy scientist was planning, but he wasn't letting his guard down around him. He knew Gaster would try and get into his head, trying to control him for his own gain.

Error made too many mistakes already; he wasn't about to let Gaster manipulate him into making another one. Error just gained their trust—he wasn't stupid enough to piss Sans 14 off.

But he was curious as to what the mad monster thought he had to offer that would make him want to risk that, and before he knew it, the question fell from his mouth:

"What is this arrangement you have to talk with me about?" He didn't know that he had given the tall skeleton the opening he needed.

Gaster grinned deeply, leaning close to his face before whispering the answer. Gaster sounded like a hissing snake, hissing an offer almost good enough to tempt him, just like the serpent who tempted Eve.

"I know what you want, deep inside. What you desire the most." He moved to his side. His tone slowly got softer as he edged to his ear canal.

"And the girl will be yours. All you need to do is help me keep them apart until she reaches the end. And then, she will be yours to use."

Error screeched angrily, pushing the mad skeleton away so hard he tripped on his cloak and hit his head. Then, as Gaster tried to recover, Error towered over him with his hands ablaze like a growing yellow fire as he smiled a twisted smile.

Something like when he first killed.

"You really think I would hurt her just to have her as my own? I made that mistake once; I won't do that again."

"You mean to tell me you don't want her back, the one you watched over along the timelines? Your fallen angel, am I correct? If you help me, Frisk will never know the difference. You'll be the only Sans she will know. She will belong to you and only you. No more other Sanes to stand in your way." The grinning skeleton breathed, slowly standing back up as he dusted off the black cloak; before he looked up at Error:

He was even crazier than they initially thought. He botched while backing from him, his fire glowing brighter than before.

"You're crazy, old man. I'm not helping you. My angel isn't Frisk; she's dead."

"Too bad, I thought you were smarter than that. All the Frisks you knew are one; this Frisk is yours. But, don't worry, son, you will join me. Eventually, you will. Your love is too strong to deny for very much longer." Gaster smiled sweetly.

Gaster turned back to his screens, ignoring Error's seething as he continued his work.

With one last low growl, the glitch faded from the room. As soon as Error could, he needed to talk to Sans. Error wanted to make sure the white skeleton could stop him if that crazy skeleton found a way in and get control of him.

He would never hurt her again.

The other skeleton simply smiled, feeling proud. Gaster got a way in; it worked. Error would be his, and he would have everything he needed and wanted. He will win.

Gaster's boys will be home with him where they belonged. And humans will be gone.