Chapter 7: In Practice.
Sans snarled in frustration, falling onto his back. The living room floor provided no comfort. They'd been attempting this stupid meditation thing for hours and he just couldn't get it. He didn't understand how to just "visualize" something without knowing what it was. Frisk had tried to explain how to do it, but it just didn't make any sense. A pool of water, filling up in his hands and over flowing. A flower blooming slowly at his feet. A ball of fire eating up everything until nothing was left except himself. None of it worked.
Frisk sighed, probably just as annoyed as he felt. "Try again... Later?" they suggest. Sans nods, covering his eyes with his hands. He usually didn't struggle so much with new things like this. He learned gravity manipulation and how to pull things from different pockets in space in just a week for fuck sake. Why was something as silly as meditation getting him? He listened to Frisk pad around, taking out their irritation through cleaning. Neither of them had slept very well last night and he could hear how tired the child felt by the way their feet lightly brushed the carpet with each step. They were usually so quiet, so careful about each step like a mine would go off under them if they so much as twitched in the wrong direction. So controlled and careful. They must be truly exhausted to slip up like this. Sans was used to being tired, but the kid? They needed sleep way more then he did. He wasn't sure what had happened to them before they fell but... The haunted look in that kids eyes when they woke up and practically ran from him... It had nothing to do with their repetitive murder at his hands.
Sans woke to a whimper and his arm shaking. His nightmares were the usual, but not the worst he'd had, so why was he shaking? Opening his eyes, he came face to face with the most terrified eyes he had ever seen. Frisks cheeks were wet with tears, teeth digging into their bottom lip as if holding back a scream. Their hands were pressed against his chest, gently pushing on him. The quietest of distressed sounds left their throat. Sans panicked, sitting up and moving away from them a little too quickly. With a startled squeak, they ran.
"W-wait! Kid!" the skeleton choked out, scrambling to follow as the child struggled frantically with the door and lock. He tumbled out of the bed, legs twisted in the blanket. He hastily kicked the fabric away, cursing colourfully under his breath, just as Frisk managed to open the door and bolt for the stairs. He chased after them, caution to the wind. His sleep deprived mind was not awake enough to process what was happening. Why would they be so frightened of him? Aside from the obvious, of course. But wouldn't they scream or something if it was a nightmare or just general fear of him? Why would they just silently cry and struggle to not make a single sound until he woke up on his own? Even exhausted as he was, Sans could feel something off about their reactions to him.
He caught up to them quickly, halfway down the hall and no where near the stairs. Frisk screamed something and threw themselves over the railing of the landing in a blind panic. Sans didn't have time to think about what they had said as he threw out his hand, magic grasping the child mid-air, seconds from breaking their neck on the floor below. He held them there, taking the opportunity to hop down the stairs and pull them into his chest. They cried out and wriggled in his hold, desperately trying to flee.
Sans sat with them in his lap for hours, petting their hair and whispering reassurances. They repeated the same phrase under their breath, barely audible, until they had calmed down. It was something along the lines of 'Should have jumped sooner' but he couldn't be sure.
The skeleton traced his eyes over the darkness in his sockets, regulating his breathing. After their little stunt, Sans hadn't been sure how to get them to relax. Asking them to teach him that meditation thing sure did the trick though. Of course they'd be the kind to drop everything, even their own personal trauma, just to help someone else out. It really wasn't them. It couldn't have been. That demon made two faces, hallow and sadistic. This kid? This kid was full of subtle shifts in expression, gradual and slightly delayed changes to emotions. Something told him that that's how they always were, a feeling deep in his chest saying that they were alright now. Frisk was back to being Frisk. And he could trust Frisk. He would have his doubts, of course, but at the end of the day they would the most worthy of his trust, more than anyone else; even Papyrus.
The realization struck the skeleton. No one was more worthy than Papyrus... Right? A gentle sigh broke his musings. Letting his hands fall away, Sans tilts his head to see Frisk sitting next to him, eyes locked on their hands in resignation.
"Giving up already pal?" They turn their attention to him, a deep conflict in their eyes. A vast amount of uncertainty swam in their mind, unable to decide how to move forward. "Not feelin the whole teachin' thing, eh?" They shook their head sadly, looking more distraught by the second. "Least it's not geometry, we're a little too round to get through that stuff," He mutters patting his stomach and holding back his widening grin. At their confused look, he shrugs "Only squares are good at it, it's their area," Sans grins at the almost invisible upturn of the childs mouth. "You know, I've never seen a humming bird before," Another half-hearted shrug "But I have seen a spelling bee," Their smile grew a fraction more. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's to never trust Atoms; they make up everything," Frisk lifts a hand to their mouth, hiding their grin. "You know, I've always thought that decimals have a point," A quiet snicker caused Sans to shut his eyes and his usual smile to stretch wider. "Math class always bugged me, it was so full of drama. There were just so many problems to work out," They giggle a little louder, obviously struggling to stay quiet. "You'd probably like my old Trig teacher, he always spoke in sine language," he found himself enjoying the sound of their muffled laughter. "For a math teacher, he was a pretty good dancer. He had algo-rythm," He rolled more out, eventually getting the human to give up hiding their laugh and have them fall over in a fit of snorts and giggles.
When he stopped, and Frisk had successfully contained their snickering, Sans sat up again and suggested one last attempt before giving up for the day. They agreed with a smile, that confident gleam in their eye once more.
[Stand] They sign, hopping to their feet and waving at him. He follows their instruction and takes their hands when offered.
"So, what's the trick this time, teach?"
"Listen," they smile. "Close eyes," a dutiful student, Sans let his eyes slip shut. "Deep breaths... Listen to everything... The wind... The clock... The water... The forest," taking a deep breath, the skeleton struggled to focus on the sound of the air entering and leaving his chest. The wind howled outside, the clock ticked by seconds. He could hear no water. Sans' face scrunched up slightly around his sockets in confusion. How could he hear a forest? "Let each part... Become so normal... It is just background. One step at a time," Pushing down his frustration, the skeleton tried again. He focused on his breathing, deep breath in and then out. Air rushing in, flowing out.
Deep breath in...
Breath rushing out...
Until it felt so natural to breath deeply that he forgot about it. He heard the ticking of the clock and focused on it next. He didn't count the seconds, didn't check the time by the chimes that followed. Sans allowed the sound of each tick to wash over him. Soon, he forgot the clock too.
A distant dripping sound pulled at his attention and he realized it must be the sink in the kitchen. Frisk hadn't turned it off all the way when they had been cleaning. His focus centered on the sound. It filled him to overflowing, each drop relaxing him further. After awhile, the water faded from his mind.
The wind outside of the house guided his attention and he followed mentally all through the Underground. How it would sink in Waterfall, becoming heavy and slow, forming a mist in its path. The way it would suddenly rise in Hotland, jerked to the cave ceiling by the harsh heat. How it would weave its way through people and buildings in the Capitol, all the way to the Castle, where it would press against the Barrier and rustle the golden flowers. Sans followed the wind back through Snowdin and into the ruins, through the abandoned buildings and to the end of the cavern where the only sunshine freely fell into the underground from one giant, gaping hole high above. The wind drifted from his skull, his attention turning to the quiet beyond his abandoned down.
The trees rustled and creaked but there was no other sound. There were no birds in the Underground to liven up the evergreens. The only living things under the mountain were the Monsters and now one Human child. Despite the silence among the trunks, it was not eerie in the forest. It was peaceful, calm. He had always enjoyed the forests around Snowdin. The frigid air helped him think, the quiet calmed his nerves. It was one of his favourite places. The vastness of the untouched land was beautiful to the skeleton. He had yet to reach the end of it in neither north nor south.
Slowly, the forests fade into the background. He found nothing else to focus his hearing on, his limits reached. With nothing to listen too, Sans found himself to be almost floating in nothing. A comfortable darkness enveloped his senses, the outside world no longer important to him.
"Nod if you... Can hear me?" A soft voice barely registered and he felt himself nod, a distant movement that felt more like someone else's than his own. A gentle humming pulled him deeper into the nothing around him, somehow drawing him down. He felt no gravity but he was certain of the direction. Slowly, a small golden light appeared in the distance below him. A sense of vertigo hit him but he was quickly reassured by the kind lullaby the light emanated. He moved down to it. He did not fall nor fly. He wasn't walking, he stood perfectly still in his living room, but the feeling of taking steps down and forward persisted. Like he was traveling down a spiraling staircase.
The light grew as he moved closer, the humming louder with each phantom step. It was a song Sans didn't know but was somehow familiar. When the stairs stopped and he was level with the light, the skeleton could only look on in confusion. Before him stood Frisk, the human child seemingly made of golden light with wings tucked against their back. The light glittered and sparked, a mix of a crackling fire and a light fixture. Their eyes were closed, hands to their chest. They were humming the tune he had followed.
"Where are you?" They asked, pausing in their song only long enough to speak.
"I'm right here, kid," Sans waved and then jumped as he saw his hand, white and glowing, in front of his face. Glancing down at himself, Sans found his body to be the same. He hadn't had any form a moment ago, had he? "Where... Are we?" He muttered, still finding nothing around them in his search of the darkness.
"This is where the meditation brings you, Sans," They smiled, opening their eyes. He noticed how easily they spoke. There was no hesitation or struggle like there usually was. He wondered why that was the case. "For lack of a better term, it is a 'void' in your mind, very close to your soul and my own," they gestured around them. "I'm very glad this method worked, it was the last I could think of. Here, you have close control with your own raw magic and can form many things. This is where we would make souls..." they trailed off, eyes drifting to their feet. They looked almost guilty. A part of him took note that they were both more expressive and open like this. "But something like that... Takes a lot of power..." Frisk shifted their weight, seemingly struggling with themselves.
"Well, I don't know if I have that kinda power kid," Sans shrugged, casually urging them forward. He had a feeling they could change that. They sighed, coming to some conclusion.
"Sans..." They began. "This is not what a Human soul should look like here," they grimace, gesturing to themselves. "If you would allow me to explain...?" hope filled their eyes. He nodded. A few sparks seemed to fly from their wings at once, fizzing about their relief. He chuckled, wishing everyone was so simple to read.
Taking a deep breath, they launched into their explanation. "At the end of every timeline, when I gained the option to reset everything, I discovered that I could still SAVE something, if it was very close to me. That something happened to be LOVE," They hold out a hand, palm turned up to the 'sky'. Sans watched as a transparent image of a red soul hovered above their hand. "Humans have no outlet for magic as monsters do. Monster have lay lines, like blood vessels, all through their bodies that distribute magic of all kinds. Humans lack this. That being said, Humans have a tight limit to their LOVE that they are not able to breach by normal means and if they figure out a way to do it they usually die from the overload of magic that they are not capable of properly siphoning," The 'soul' in their hand started to pull itself apart, clearly unbalanced. It undulated in their palm, dripping into nothing and pulling itself back together, becoming more drastic as they spoke. "However, if a large enough power is introduced to the body, it will fall into a state of shock until it can right itself to cope; or die.
Through every timeline Chara destroyed, I snatched up what LOVE my soul had, and saved it into a pocket of space where it would wait for me. Once I had enough... I made a truce, so to speak, with Chara," they flinched, uncomfortable with what they had had to do. Sans couldn't stop apprehension from rising in his throat. His paranoia flared in his chest and he hoped to some higher power that their 'deal' hadn't been legit. "At the beginning of this Timeline, before we traversed the Ruins, I offered the LOVE to Chara and asked to be their partner this time around. No more being thrown into darkness and held from control. I wanted to watch. That's... What I told them anyway. They were suspicious but accepted the LOVE. My body went into shock, of course, and Toriel brought me to her home when she found me and cared for me while my body struggled to cope. It took a week for me to wake again," the soul in their hand shuddered and shifted in colour to a gold like their body, wings extending from the heart like fire. "This is what my soul is now as a result. My body developed lay lines, like a monster, to properly distribute the magic. Right now, I have no dominate type of magic, just an equal mix of every kind. That will change over time but for now that's how it is," the 'soul' vanished.
Sans felt himself shudder, phantom pains working their way up his body. "Must've hurt like hell," he joked. They nodded solemnly in reply however, causing his grin to tighten.
"It still does, actually. It's very difficult to move, the lay lines not yet fully developed. It's like being born a second time and having to mature immediately. The growing pains are terrible. But, they are the only reason I was able to flee Chara when I did. They allowed me to be conscious the entire run, so long as I didn't interfere. I pretended I was unaffected by everyone's deaths, at some point playing it like I actually enjoyed their demise," Frisks wings wilted as another shudder wracked their small frame. "This is the first timeline I had to watch it all and consciously do nothing to stop it..." they shook their head to clear it, determination shinning in their eyes. "You were the only one capable of stopping them. I had the feeling but when we met outside of Snowdin, I knew for sure that you did. Chara became cautious and I was forced to play the 'partner' and warn them that you were trying to figure out a way to kill them without killing me. They were confident, however, that it was impossible. That confidence killed them the second they tried to show off their power," they smiled ruefully at their possessors stupidity and Sans felt himself sharing in their pleasure. That demon deserved to die. It was even better knowing that they died because they were a cocky shit. He nodded for them to continue.
"After a few times of saving my own LOVE, I discovered that there was another's that I could save, in a separate pocket of space, for them in the future... I..." They paused, trying to not look at him directly. "I'm not sure how it would affect you though. If we were close enough when I reset, I could hold onto your LOVE for you too, but experiencing what it's done to me makes me hesitate..." the child shuffles uncertainly, wringing their hands. "The side effects so far were mostly expected but there seems to be some things I missed. Because my body had to cope... I'm no longer Human. I am not Monster either, as I retained my Human physicality, but I am a sort of hybrid with lay lines of magic all over me, the ability to intimately use magic and my change in longevity... That is to say... I will live for a very long time, I will not get sick as others do and there is the possibility that I will simply never continue to age..." they slumped, the burden of what they've done weighing them down. Sans absorbed this information calmly. Questions spun in his head but he held them back. The child wasn't finished.
"I don't know all it would do to you. I honestly have no idea. Figuring out how a Human would cope was fairly simple but Monsters are strange and already mostly made of magic. I just couldn't put it together before I had to take this risk for myself... For all I know, this could kill you..." the chocked on the last words, luminecent tears flooding their eyes. They wouldn't be able to stand one more death. Sans gazed at them with the understanding that this was Frisks soul and it was crying at the thought him dying. Souls can't lie. People can, but their souls can't. He distantly felt his physical self pull Frisk into a hug.
"So... We die, or we save everyone, is that right?" he asked. They nodded thei affirmation. Taking a deep breath, Sans came to his own decision. "Y'know, I've risked dying every Timeline just for the hint of a chance at getting my brother back. You're giving me a legitimate oportunity here kid, how could I say no to that?" They blinked at him, processing what he said. Realization dawned quickly and he watch them visibly struggle to not break down sobbing at all the uncertanty of it all. He crossed to them, silently offering them a hand with which to steady themselves. Instead, Frisk threw themselves into him, hugging him tightly. He was shocked by their sudden move but he didn't push them off. They were struggling to come to terms with their concious decicion of possibly killing him. They wouldn't forgive themselves for this. Sans was surprised to find himself on the brink of tears as he hugged them back. A mix of hope and fear swirled in him. He supposed that the were both overwhelemed.
When the gethered themselves, Frisk stepped back from him with a quiet apology. He let them go and informed them to do whatever had to be done for this. After a moment, they nodded and gestured for him to move back. Sans obeyed, stepping back a few feet to give them room. He watched with a mix of confusion and awe as raw magic flowed around Frisk, their wings extended out to either side. Golden strands gathered in their hands, glowing brightly with potential. A black box, only a shade lighter than the world around them, appeared within the ball of light. As the magic fadded from their upturned palms, the box floated down to take its place. With their wings tucked back in place and their magic qiuet, Frisk offered the box to him, a solemn experssion on their face.
With hesitant movements, Sans gingerly took the box and flipped open the cover. A blinding light poured out from the container, forcing him to sheild his eyes. When his sight adjusted, the skeleton gazed at the ball of raw energy contained in the box.
"All you have to do is touch it," Frisk whispered, a sad note in their voice evident. He glanced at them over the box. This could kill him. This amount of LOVE in his hands, broken down into it's most raw form of magic, could tear him to shreds. Not allowing himself to think about it anymore, Sans shoved a hand into the light.
Fire engulfed him.