The shadow of the ruins looms above.
Transfixed, you're staring at the small, fragile knot of yellowish light pulsing in mid-air near the inner gate. There are four save points in the area, but the last one is in the courtyard of Toriel's house, just outside the door, and you have to make sure she's not around before you teleport there.
Of course, this wouldn't be a problem if she was dead already.
You close your eyesockets to get a hold of yourself. You're not here to kill. You're here to save her, along with everyone. You're going to make it right. You're going to make it all right.
Determination.
You're far weaker than you used to be, but the memories, your lingering hate - that rotten flower was right, you admit with a twinge of annoyance - lend you the strength needed. Your phalanges close around the star and you try to squeeze your hands together as hard as you can. The light doesn't budge.
I'm stronger than you.
You grit your teeth and put even more pressure into your grip. The light quivers for a moment, then slowly, gradually, it starts to crack at the edges.
Come on...
"Hello?"
You freeze.
"Hellooo? Little puppy?"
It is her.
"There you are! Stop, please!"
She's coming your way. Your first instinct is to teleport away, but you have to finish what you came for first. You force your palms closer together, groaning from the effort. A small white ball of fur darts past you, barking playfully despite its mouth being full of a cellphone, and quickly disappears, you don't even see where exactly.
Dammit.
"Stop!" her voice cries out again, the quick footsteps stopping for a minute; she's probably catching her breath. "Come back here with my cellphone!"
She mustn't see you; she must never see you again. You can't look her in the eye and face the joy, the hope, the gratitude in there after all you've done. All of this was so much easier to handle when she was only a voice, distant and unreachable despite separated from you only by a door.
So much easier when all you had to do was fight her.
Making a grimace in frustration, you let go of the save point, and prepare to take one of your shortcuts, when you realize that you don't want to. You want to stay. Despite everything, you still want to see her. Hear her. Maybe out of some sense of perverted sentimentality, forcing yourself to think of the good times, knowing all too well that you can't go back anymore. Wallowing in misery almost feels satisfactory at this point; after all, this is what you deserve.
But what if… what if for even a moment, I could -
What if I could pretend that -
You let out a chuckle.
You know very well that you can't.
It's over.
Deal with it.
You slap yourself mentally for your indulgence, and return to reality. She is out of your reach, no matter how much you want to pretend. But instead of leaving like you should, you still find yourself squeeze into the dark nook between the staircase and the adjacent wall, trying to breathe as silently as possible.
Well. I've certainly gone mad at this point, haven't I?
There she is.
You hear the gentle swish of her robe as she makes her way down the stairs, stopping to catch her breath when she reaches the bottom. Just out of arm's reach. Just close enough that you can see her stats. HP 440, ATK 80, DEF 80, EXP 150.
An easy kill, wasn't she?
You close your eyesockets. You should leave.
You open them again, and force yourself to look at her.
Look at her, murderer.
Her posture radiates exhaustion, her shoulders hunched, her ears hanging limply over her shoulders. She looks around, looking for the dog.
"Please, you must understand... What if Frisk calls me and I can't answer the phone? They are out there, alone and scared!"
She stops at the outer gate, and you can just make out her whisper.
"How could I ever let them go?"
She grabs the doorframe, as if to prevent herself from collapsing on the spot, and hangs her head.
Look at her and remember.
"My child…"
"My child…"
She was kneeling on the ground, cradling the lifeless little body in her arms, wailing desperately, her voice broken with grief and loss.
"How could you?!"
Tears were streaming down her face, her arms shaking as she screamed at you.
"HOW COULD YOU?!"
You were standing in front of her, staring stubbornly at the demon lying limply on her knees since you couldn't look her in the eye. Of course, this was when you still had something of a conscience.
"They were just a child!"
They should be burning in hell.
"Did our promise mean nothing to you?!"
It meant everything to me.
"i'm sorry," you finally said lamely, barely loud enough for her to understand. "they were - they were going to kill you -"
"Liar!" she cried out in fury. "They never laid a finger on me! Nor any other monster!"
"they - they did - you wouldn't underst-"
She wouldn't have understood. She couldn't. You didn't want her to understand.
This should be my burden alone.
She was choking, heaving, clutching at her chest as if speaking had been causing her physical distress. You should have left then. You shouldn't have stayed.
But you were always a sucker for punishment.
When she finally looked up at you, her eyes were filled with contempt and disgust.
"You're worse than Asgore," she said flatly. "You're working with him, aren't you? You were lying to me all along."
Technically, she wasn't wrong. You were lying to everyone by simply not speaking up. So you just nodded. It wouldn't matter anyway what she believed about you. Nothing mattered. It was easier this way.
She gently laid Frisk's body down on a dry leaf pile, closing their eyes with one large paw. Then she stood up tall, towering over you.
"I'm never going to let you desecrate their soul."
Her ruby-red eyes flared up with such anger that you involuntarily took a step back. She got into a fighting stance, her arms extended, and balls of fire sprang out of her upturned palms.
"Prepare yourself."
The first turn would have been yours, but it never happened. Not in that run, at least. You turned tail and fled, arriving in Snowdin forest via a shortcut. Coward, she yelled after you. Coward.
And still, despite all of her contempt, she couldn't even imagine how much of a coward you were to become.
She was the last one before Papyrus, right after you made quick work of Grillby for the second time. She looked up at you, kneeling on the floor, her chest pierced by a sharp bone.
"...Why?"
She saw your LV. She saw your determination.
And for the first time, you saw her eyes darken with despair, a strange, frightening spark of feverish light springing to life deep in the blackness, just like your own purple magic. Her face contorted into a mockery of a smile, and, out of the blue, she started laughing.
"Ha ha ha… Ahahahaha!"
You were staring at her, hoping beyond all hope that this was still just a bad dream.
"You're truly no better than them!"
And these were the last words you've heard from someone who could have been a friend.
Someone who had been a friend.
You couldn't bear it for one more second. You had work to do, you had no time for grieving. Chara was waiting for you in the Last Corridor, chewing their lower lip in impatience.
"So you finally resorted to killing her, right?" they said, excited as only a child can be. "All of your talk about companionship and finding a friend… in the end, it meant nothing, Sans. It meant nothing."
They didn't even bother with dodging that time. They had no doubt they would win in the end.
"I have left her for you to slaughter, and you did it. You did it willingly."
They looked up at you, their smile so weak, so fragile. So strong.
"You're empty inside. Just like me."
You threw yourself at them, punching their mangled body with all the force you could muster, beating them with a fury you'd never felt before. And even though they'd fallen silent minutes before, you could still hear their words lingering in the dusty air.
Just like me.
"It's just like me… too weak to protect even one of them…"
Toriel lets out a deep sigh and seems to finally pull herself together. She makes another attempt to lure the little rascal out.
"Don't worry, little puppy - I'm heading home now! You can come out! In fact, I'm certainly not dogged enough to chase you right now."
Before you can catch yourself, you laugh. It's just a small chuckle, nothing of importance. Nothing.
What did just -
"Who's there?"
She turns to face the steps, and you finally see her face. Worry and exhaustion are written all over it. The bags under her eyes are more prominent, her mouth pressed into a thin, tired line.
Out of the blue, your soul is hit with such deep longing that your breath catches. For a brief moment, you want nothing more than to see her expression warm and open instead of being contorted by grief and fury, instead of laughing dementedly upon realizing that there was no hope for either of you. You want nothing more than to walk up to her and finally make true friends, without a door in the way. To share some good butterscotch-cinnamon pie (the one you attempted to bake ended up burnt and smelling like your three-day-old laundry, maybe because of the sock you'd left in the oven and forgotten about). Some bad laughs at equally bad puns (her laughter was decidedly un-ladylike, a high-pitched, carefree sound). Some nice friends to hang out with (you would talk her ears off when the conversation turned to the topic of Papyrus, and in return, she would tell you more snail facts than you ever cared to memorize).
You want nothing more.
You mustn't. You know it'd be too much, just like it was too much with Papyrus. You'd just end up messing up again, scaring her, burdening her with something she doesn't deserve. So you just keep quiet until she relaxes again; she must be too tired to care about monsters coming and going through the place. She finally lets go of the doorframe and walks up the stairs, her feet barely (heh heh, she'd like this one) making any sound on the stone floor.
Now.
After making sure she left for good, you grab the save point with a sense of finality. A tiny crack, and the light pulses for the last time. Thin rivulets of glittery powder flow down from between your bony fingers; they linger in the air for a while, purposeless, then gently flutter onto the floor, their shine gradually fading out. You take care to kick the small pile apart until it's undistinguishable from the dust in the cracks of the stone slabs. The other monsters never made any sign of being aware of the save points, but it's best not to leave any tracks.
One down, three to go.
"HALT, HUMAN!"
You cautiously peek out from behind the conveniently-shaped snowskeleton your brother once built in your likeness ("SINCE YOU CONSISTENTLY FAIL TO MAKE AN HONEST EFFORT AT BUILDING A SNOW-SANS, THEN MAYBE SHOWING YOU THE CORRECT WAY MIGHT MOTIVATE YOU TO DO BETTER, BROTHER!"). You promised yourself that you weren't going to watch this battle. Nothing good would come out of it.
You always sucked at keeping promises. Besides, if Chara ultimately decides to kill him, you at least have a convenient excuse to kill them in return.
Frisk is standing in the middle of the snowy road leading to Waterfall, shivering slightly in the chilly air. Your brother blocks their way and starts reciting his lines like always, which seems a little... unnatural, given the situation. In fact, you were almost sure that he would change something up, at least a little. You're listening to his usual routine with growing annoyance. This is your only chance to fix things, and he has no goddamn idea how much is at stake. He might ruin everything in his obliviousness. Change in the prescripted progress of events was the entire point of this madness. Change was why Chara kept going with their killing spree. If they get bored again, you're back to square one, back to the endless labyrinth of permutations of mercy and murder.
Or maybe you're just bothered by the fact that he acts like nothing happened this morning between him and you.
You were always the selfish one, weren't you?
Papyrus is in the middle of detailing the merits of finding another pasta lover, when Frisk gasps as a ghostly form detaches itself from their body. You tense up when you see Chara suddenly standing so close to your brother, but instead of approaching him, the child just steps aside, making a bored face.
"Ugh. I rather stay out of this one. He's so forgettable. Not even putting up a decent fight when his own life was at stake..."
You scratch your chin in confusion as you look at Chara leaning on a nearby rock. Something's missing from their chest, something familiar.
Frisk's soul.
You're waiting for Papyrus to make a remark about another human appearing in front of him out of thin air, but he appears to be oblivious to the fact, going on with his speech like usual. Even Frisk, after a nervous glance at their companion, seems to be okay with the situation.
So your brother can't see them without the soul present, huh?
Why can you, then?
The battle finally, finally starts, and in spite of your frustration, you realize that you're still deeply impressed with your brother's mastery of his magic. You've seen him die without putting up a fight so many times, you almost forgot how competent he is in battle even when he's clearly distracted by Frisk's clumsy attempts at flirting. His bone attacks just barely miss them (maybe on purpose, the though crosses your mind) and he's clearly proud of how he manages to spray cologne behind his nonexistent ears while simultaneously sending a barrage of bones flying through the air.
Even Chara perks up a little as the end of the battle is drawing near. They squint a little, as if they were trying calculate the most effective way to dodge, and when Frisk gets hit by a blue bone attack, they huff in contempt.
"Step aside, partner. It's time for me to take control if you can't even handle somebody this weak." They clear their throat. "And I need the practice, just in case."
They wave their hand, and the soul, now a dark blue, springs out of Frisk's body. Frisk cringes a little, maybe from the pain, maybe from surprise, and clutches at their chest for a moment. You watch, dumbfounded, as their body, not unlike a marionette, start to dodge and jump in accordance to the soul's movements. Chara's still leaning on the rock, moving only their hand, and it's pretty clear they are enjoying themselves to an extent. They even laugh once, which you find equally surprising and unnerving.
"Not bad," they say as Papyrus finally reaches the end of his really cool regular attack. "I must say, this was almost as interesting as lopping his head off."
They let the soul go, which leaps back into Frisk's chest. The kid looks visibly shaken; drops of sweat are shining on their brow, and they can barely hide the trembling of their limbs. You frown; your memories are fuzzy, but they aren't supposed to be this exhausted at the end of Papyrus' battle.
Your brother, on the other hand, looks genuinely tired. Not a small feat for the kid to exhaust him this much as his morning routine consists of jogging several miles from one end of Snowdin forest to the other.
"WELL...! HUFF... IT'S CLEAR... YOU CAN'T! 'HUFF' DEFEAT ME! YEAH! I CAN SEE YOU SHAKING IN YOUR BOOTS! THEREFORE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ELECT TO GRANT YOU PITY! I WILL SPARE YOU, HUMAN! NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO ACCEPT MY MERCY."
He inhales deeply, clearly out of breath from his speech.
"IT'S JUST THAT…"
You feel your marrow go cold.
This is it. The change you've been waiting for.
The change you don't want to witness after all.
"HOW DO I SAY THIS…"
He turns away from Frisk, his gaze uncertain.
"You see, there's my brother Sans…"
His voice is so small, so helpless, just like when he obediently left you alone.
No.
That's not what happened, now is it?
It was you who left him alone. Knowing all too well that he has no-one else to turn to, except for his captain who wants to kill the same human he's going to make friends with.
Selfish bastard.
"We… we used to have so much fun together. Inventing puzzles, and traps, and hunting for humans just like you! But… but lately… he's been behaving strangely. He's so sad and tired all the time, and he doesn't eat like he should..."
He takes a sharp breath, frowning, concentrating on keeping his composure. Frisk steps closer, unsure of how to react.
"I can't explain why I'm feeling this way, but… but somehow, I believe that… he has done something... bad?"
Oh no.
Oh no no no no no.
Please don't.
Don't do this to me. To us.
"And he wouldn't tell me about it. Not out of cowardice, mind you, but because he never tells anyone anything! Not even me. And I don't want to push things because it just makes him clam up even more..."
Tears start flowing down his cheekbones, and the sight pierces your soul, chilly and sharp like an icicle. Your chest feels too small, too tight, threatening to crush your soul into dust.
"This morning, he… he sent me away. He said that I shouldn't be near him, and that it would be better for the both of us, and, and, and…"
He falls to his knees, burying his face in his gloved hands, tears streaming down from between his fingers.
You should go to him right now. You should hold him tight and ask for his forgiveness.
You don't move.
Frisk walks up to your brother. Your hands tighten into fists as you wait for the death blow to come.
They always enjoyed it the most when they killed them at their most vulnerable.
Frisk extends a hand and gently strokes Papyrus on the shoulder.
You close your eyesockets, resting your forehead on the back of the snow statue, your body shaking from strangled, silent laughter.
Hysterical, isn't it?
You hurt him, and now the child of all people is the one to comfort him. To tend to him when he's at his weakest.
You can't hear what they're saying to him, but judging from the mild disgust on Chara's face, it's probably something about love and care and whatnot. Your brother's sobs slowly fade away, and he wipes his face.
"Thank you, human." He squeezes Frisk's hands, making them wince. "It's just that I'm so, so worried about him. As a kindred spirit, I'm sure you understand!"
He clears his throat, trying to pull himself together, to look strong and confident as always, and gets up.
"But thanks to your valuable input, human, I know what to do now!" You jerk back a little as his voice returns to its usual volume. "I'M GOING TO CHEER SANS UP SO WE CAN BE TOGETHER AGAIN!" He beams at the kid, his enthusiasm written all over his face. "AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO CHEER SOMEONE UP - BESIDES MAKING PUZZLES, OF COURSE - THAN TO CAPTURE A HUMAN?"
You snort in amusement at Frisk's nonplussed expression at the sudden turn in the conversation. Serves them right.
"IT WOULD CERTAINLY MAKE ME HAPPY!" Papyrus carries on. "SO! UMM… WOULD YOU MIND IF I CAPTURED YOU? I'D REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR COOPERATION! YOU JUST STAY HERE WHILE I GO LOOK FOR SANS! OR," he scratches his mandible, "ON SECOND THOUGHT, YOU CAN GO TO OUR HOUSE SO YOU CAN KEEP WARM! AND ON THIRD THOUGHT, THERE'S PLENTY OF SPAGHETTI IN THE FRIDGE IN CASE YOU GET HUNGRY!"
He stops, looking left and right, apparently in the hopes of spotting you somewhere in the vicinity.
"THOUGH I ADMIT… I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE IS RIGHT NOW..."
Frisk's mouth curls into a small smile. They beckon your brother to lean closer, and they whisper something into his earhole. Papyrus' face lights up immediately.
"OF COURSE! WHAT A BRILLIANT IDEA, HUMAN! A WORK OF PURE GENIUS, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF! AND YOU ARE CERTAINLY RIGHT TO CHOOSE ME OF ALL MONSTERS TO FULFILL THIS NOBLEST OF DUTIES!"
He puffs his chest out, and his entire posture changes. He now stands tall and proud, his scarf billowing dramatically (without any wind, of course), and despite yourself, you find yourself grinning. Heh. He still got it.
So cool…
Your breath catches in your throat, and once again, you're hit with a distant longing, stronger than ever. You want to step out to pat Papyrus on the back, to tell him that it's all fine now, lend him a questionably clean handkerchief when he bursts into tears again, and after he's gotten properly embarrassed about getting emotional, say a lame pun just to see him groan and forget all his worries in the attempt to get back at you with something equally cringe-worthy.
Maybe if you pretended, just for a few minutes, that everything is alright, just for his sake…
Heh heh.
So you're lying even to yourself now?
His sake my bony ass.
You wouldn't want him to be near you, to be in constant danger, would you now?
You close your eyesockets, finding your breath again, focusing your mind on the plan, and the gnawing feeling peters out before you can catch it. Good.
"OF COURSE I'M GOING TO ACCOMPANY YOU ON YOUR JOURNEY!"
Your grin twitches.
What.
What.
"I'M GOING TO DO MY BEST TO PROTECT YOU FROM HARM!" your brother continues. "IT'S GOING TO BE JUST LIKE BEING A ROYAL GUARD, EXCEPT I'M GUARDING YOU!"
They have the nerve, the little bastard.
Do they have any idea how much of an effort it took to finally send your brother away for his own good? And they dare to even think of such pointless bullshit?
Well screw them. Two can play at that game, kiddo.
"WE'LL CERTAINLY RUN INTO MY BROTHER SOONER OR LATER! USUALLY, HE'S LAZING AROUND AT ONE OF HIS SENTRY STATIONS! THOUGH I'M NOT SURE IF HE'S GOING TO BE THERE… I MEAN, OF COURSE HE'S GOING TO BE THERE, JUST - JUST NOT RIGHT NOW..."
He shakes his head as if to swat the uncomfortable thoughts away, and turns back to the kid, grinning again.
"ANYWAY! I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU CAN MAKE FRIENDS WITH MY BEST FRIEND, UNDYNE! SHE'S, UH, DEFINITELY GOING TO BE OPEN TO THE IDEA! AND THEN WE CAN ALL HANG OUT! UNTIL YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO THE SURFACE, OF COURSE."
They set out on their way to Waterfall, Chara reluctantly merging back into Frisk's body. You're itching to give the cheeky little twerp a piece of your mind, but you restrain yourself. It wouldn't do to lose your cool in front of Papyrus, scaring him even more. When they are at a safe distance, your brother chatting enthusiastically about how much of a pushover Asgore is, you step out from behind the snowman, glaring daggers at Frisk's back, hoping they can feel it somehow. You're going to put an end to this farce.
You snap your fingers and teleport away to the nearest save point, ignoring the small voice coming from deep inside your soul that whispers that maybe, just maybe…
...I don't want the farce to end.