Chapter 6: Plans
He was late.
Sans stumbled into the house, exhausted both physically and mentally. He had been kicking himself the whole walk home, berating himself for his sudden leap onto a pointless hope. What had he been thinking? Asking Asgore to train him just in case the human didn't reset. He had left himself without the strength to use his magic to make it home on time and had been forced to trudge his was to the River Person in Hot Land and then stumble his way through the snow-covered, abandoned town. Fuck he was stupid. Frisk had to reset, so what was the point in trying to physically improve himself.
"Just had to be faster, eh? Gotta be stronger, just in fucking case," He growled at himself, shutting the front door quietly. "What a load of shit," he dropped the bag containing Frisks new clothes on the ground by the couch, dazedly moving towards the kitchen. He found the table covered in paper, the child on one of the chairs, scribbling frantically. He saw diagrams, charts, math and chemical equations, detailed drawings of human and monster anatomy, just as detailed drawings of soul anatomy and the differences in the races. At a glance, he could see so many arrows in different colours, connecting sentences to various chopped up pieces on each picture. Most pages had neat, spaced out letters in black ink, detailing something he couldn't see from his position at the kitchen archway. He crept closer, not wanting to break the humans concentration, to see the page they were currently on. On the sheet was an image of a generic monster and human in black ink facing each other. Each had a coloured line flowing from their outstretched hands to make a jumble in the middle of the page. Following the lines as they mixed into one colour, Sans felt confused at the sight of what could only be considered a soul at the end of the trail. Frisk was writing something in a black pen, detailing what he assumed must be in the picture above. Curious, he tried to read what he could see.
... Using combined magic, the two may create the essence of a soul and with enough trust and 'determination' they can compact the power into a self-sustaining form of which may be placed into a body, imbued with the deceased dust that contains their memories, that was already created before hand. Using this method, a race can be saved from extinction or an accident may be righted. This was used in the past to save Monsters from a plague that only seemed to hinder the more magical beings...
Sans felt his breathing hitch in his throat, causing the human to jump in surprise and turn to look at him with a hand to their chest. When they recognized it was only him, they smiled and waved towards the counter behind him, returning to their page. Glancing back, the skeleton saw what could only be described as a feast. At least to him. A plate with a burger, fries and plenty of ketchup sat waiting for him, stacked high and steaming hot. Not understanding how they had made the food didn't stop Sans from eating everything in record time. He wasn't used to moving so much and it had completely drained his usual resources. Part of him expected it to be human food but it was clearly magic, his bones swelling with renewed vigor and strength by the time he finished his last bite. Content, the skeleton sat at the table, opposite of Frisk, and patiently waited for them to complete whatever they were doing. He didn't understand what he read, but if it was true... His mind reeled from the possibilities and he wondered if the child would allow him to keep their pages in his notes. Even if it turned out to be theory and myth, it would be interesting to at least attempt. Only... The word 'trust' jumped out at him vividly. Gazing across the table at the working human, he couldn't decide if he trusted them. For all he knew, this could be bullshit. Just one great play set up by this seemingly innocent kid.
Sans let his skull hit the table with a soft thump, irritated by the constant uncertainty of this whole situation. Why haven't they reset yet? Wouldn't that be easier than building up a soul for ninety-eight Monsters? They had destroyed Chara, so why couldn't they start over and just... Do the nice run again? A tap on his arm pulled the skeleton out of his frustrated musings.
Frisk extended a stack of paper to him, carefully circled numbers at the top of each one to specify the order to read them in. They had finished whatever they were writing and were now offering him the chance to read it. Taking the paper, he told them where their new clothes were before turning his attention to the words before him. A subconscious part of him noted their departure but his focus was on the information he had been gifted. The first three pages explained why they hadn't reset and, to his surprise, why they never would again.
Chara is an anomaly in time and space, their soul refusing to die off but has no where to go. With the start of each new timeline, Chara's soul gains strength. They may not reappear immediately if I restart, but the chances are too high to risk. The same trick will not work twice, after all. That being said, I have discovered another way to fix my mistake and bring everyone back.
He took a deep breath, nodding along in understanding as he set that section aside. Frisk had returned to their spot and seemed to be doodling on a spare page, lazy circles bound to transform into something wonderful. Sparing them a glance, Sans moved on to what was sure to be a complicated explanation of how this new solution would work.
Of course he was right. He hadn't seen this much math since he had left the lab to Alphys years ago. The chemical equations were simple enough but the way they bled into the mathematical picture was something to marvel at. He double checked their work, finding no mistakes in the crisp handwriting. Several pages laid out how exactly it worked on a scientific level that he had never experienced before. It wasn't that he hadn't see complicated, almost mystical experiments before, this one was just far beyond all he had ever learned. He flipped through the content in silent awe more then once, taking it all in and building up the workings in his head. The math made sense. It seemed plausible at least but...
"Hey," he called, drawing the humans attention. They patiently gaze at him, prepared to answer his questions. The bags under their eyes had gotten worse. The bruise-like smudges made the depth in their eyes seem fathomless and unbelievably tired. "Gotta ask about the last bit here, bud. You got the math pretty good but the 'how' is a little... Lacking," he shrugged, scratching the back of his skull. They nodded and pushed a final page towards him. Feeling his headache protest at the time of night and the amount of reading he'd done in the past hour, Sans sighed at the letters that stared at him from their white realm.
Using an ancient form of meditation, one can find a space in their head in which they can concentrate their magic into a more visual form. One may share this space with another with a resonating of their souls. The last part I can demonstrate for you, when you have a stable 'space' in your mind, as it is difficult to explain. In this realm of sorts, the pair can wield raw magic to build and create anything they desire. The two souls must work very closely together, with an intimacy usually reserved for married couples. It is a similar way that two people can reproduce together through magic, as Monsters do. This of course requires a great deal of trust as the two must meld their magic together. Should they be on guard or uncertain of the other participant, the magic will not fuse and both people will simply become exhausted. I will explain the meditation when you are rested and ready as it does eat up some energy.
This is, however, not something you must do. If you do not wish to, or are uncomfortable, perhaps simply find yourself unable to trust me enough, then you do not need to do this. I am offering an option, not an obligation. I may be able to do it on my own, so the door remains open to bring everyone back. It simply will take longer to do so alone.
Sans set aside the page with the others and gazed into the eyes of the being across from him. Could he trust this? What if the moment he closes his eyes to do their meditation shtick, they slash through him? He leaned forward, searching their eyes for anything to back his doubts. They leave their seat and pad over to him, quietly looking back at him. They seemed to understand that they were being judged harshly and withheld nothing. Emotions flickered behind their eyes, a confusing mix of who they were.
Fear that he would reject their suggestion or kill them outright. Uncertainty at his level of understanding. The resigned knowledge that who he is now is not who he was when they had run to him all those timelines ago. A self-hatred that he was shocked to find. Anger at themselves for being too weak to stop what had happened. An endless exhaustion that would not be fixed by sleeping for the rest of their life. A deep sadness that resonated with his own. And hope. So much hope. Hope to fix what had happened, hope that he would help, hope to be worthy of being there to see everyone again. Hope that they could make everyone happy, just one more time.
More passed behind their eyes with quick flicks of explanation, from regret to depression to pain all the way through to hope and joy and the unwavering determination to make things right. Not a single murderous intent passed by. They wanted only to fix their wrongs and bring happiness where they had delivered pain.
Sans nodded and Frisk visibly relaxed, a small smile gracing their face. "Alright kid, how about we get some rest?" They nodded slowly and took his hand when he offered it. He led them up to his room, but they refused to go in once he opened the door. He joked about cleaning it up more, but they just shook their head and pointed down to the couch. When he asked why, they shrugged. "I'm not gonna make you sleep in here if ya don't want to," he told them, leaning on the door frame. They looked away with an almost guilty expression.
[Do not want to scare you or make you upset] They signed. [Know you do not trust] a sad look crossed their features before they shook their head. A smile replaced their frown as they gestured to the couch again, turning towards the stairs.
"You need me to trust you for this thing, right?" they paused, giving him a confused look. The human nods, still in a half-step to leave. "Read somewhere that one of the best ways to trust someone is to sleep near'em," he explained crossing his arms. "Along with talkin' a lot, spendin' time together and all that kinda stuff," the child turned to face him again, face scrunched up in confusion. "You trust me more than I trust you, so if you're cool with sleepin' with this old bag of bones, I'd feel a lot better with you in reach," his words were beginning to slur with exhaustion but he couldn't care less. He couldn't help being tired. Frisk nodded with solemn understanding and followed him into his room. Out of habit, Sans closed and locked the door behind him before collapsing onto his mattress on the floor. His room was remarkably clean, but he had done that after Papyrus was killed, some part of him hoping that if he did what his brother had always asked then maybe he would come back. He had similar reasoning behind trashing the younger's room.
Gathering up his remaining energy, Sans gently pulled Frisk onto the bed with him and messily threw the blanket over them both. The child kept as much distance between them as the bed and blanket allowed. They laid on their back, hands folded over their stomach with the blanket up to their chest. It took them some time to relax but eventually the child fell asleep next to him. Trying to ignore the feeling that he was being just a little creepy, the skeleton watched Frisks chest rise and fall in their sleep. If he hadn't known better, Sans would have said they were dead. A small, exhausted and completely unreasonable part of him panicked that they might actually be dead or die while he sleeps. He couldn't watch them breathing if he was sleeping too, after all. Grunting, he placed a hand on the childs chest over where their heart was. How he knew where their heart was was unknown to the skeleton, but he simply seemed to have the knowledge.
His hand moved gently with their breathing, a soft thumping under his fingers a quiet reassurance of their life. With the piece of him that had panicked now silenced, Sans drifted off to sleep.