A Tale of Consequences

Reset?

x-x-x

Chapter 5

x-x-x

Sans heard his brother coming before he even reached the door. He stifled a groan into his pillow, wanting nothing more to burrow into the mattress, rolling the blanket around him as a protective barrier from the world.

Just let him sleep and pretend for a bit. That was all he asked.

It was too late though. Papyrus' heavy bootfalls reverberated up the stairs, shaking off the veil of numbness sleep had awarded him. His head slowly began to pound in time with each nearing thump. They stopped in front of his closed door, but Papyrus didn't open it. Not yet. There was a muffled sound, and then his brother's voice. Sans was both thankful, and slightly grouchy that his brother's voice carried so well.

"REALLY UNDYNE YOU ARE BEING DOWN RIGHT SILLY. SANS HAS BEEN SLEEPING ALL MORNING. THERE'S NO WAY HE COULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO YOUR FRIEND. NO—NO I ASSURE YOU HE DIDN'T PULL ONE OF HIS WEIRD SHENANIGANS, I'VE BEEN CHECKING IN ON HIM LIKE THE RESPONSIBLE CARETAKER I AM. MY BROTHER HAS DONE NOTHING BUT SLEEP OFF THE EFFECTS OF A PARTICULARLY NASTY FALL, SO I'D APPRECIATE IT IF YOU DIDN'T YELL AT HIM."

...the muffled sound again. Sans couldn't bite back the yawn in time. Phone. He melted back into the blankets. If the fish-lady was here, she'd be even louder than Pap. And then he'd feed on her, and she wouldn't let him beat her and it would be a cacophony of laughing and yelling and the mere thought of it sent what was left of his courage scurrying off into the corner to whimper in pain. The headache was less...present now, but he could still feel it pulsing.

Idly he wondered if it would ever go away, or if he would just learn to live with it.

He was starting to think the latter.

Feeling like garbage, he rolled himself off the lumpy mattress and onto the cold floor. He lay there a moment, shivering in his thin shirt and shorts, before forcing himself to his knees. Then his feet. One step at a time. It was shaky, but he could do this.

He made his way to the door, the pressure behind his eye pulsing in protest to the movement.

"N-NO OF COURSE I'M NOT REFUSING AN ORDER! I JUST RESPECTFULLY ASK YOU CALL BACK—"

"Pap. It's fine. I'm up."

His brother nearly jumped when Sans opened the door, fumbling with the phone in his surprise. The little device bounced in his gloved hands, before clattering to the floor and spawning faintly yelled demands from the other end.

"SANS! I'M SORRY! DID I WAKE YOU?"

"don't sweat it bro. You can wake the dead without trying." Sans winked to hide a wince, leaning against the doorframe, gesturing at the fallen phone, "shouldn't you get that?"

"A-AH!" Sans couldn't help the faint chuckle to see his tall, long limbed brother awkwardly scrambling for it, "H-HELLO? SORRY I DROPPED—WHAT? YES HE'S HERE—"

"WELL THEN PUT HIM ON THE DAMN PHONE!"

Even Papyrus flinched back from that, holding the cellphone at arm's length.

"ONLY IF YOU PROMISE ME YOU WON'T YELL!" Sans flinched as Papyrus's already loud voice raised in volume to match. He put a hand to his skull. The pulse behind his eye was growing stronger, radiating a strange heat. Something sticky and warm pooling against his palm. He quickly wiped it away before Papyrus finally turned back to him, hiding the red stained hand behind his back.

Papyrus held out the phone gingerly, grimacing, "SHE INSISTS."

"No problem." Sans reached for the phone with his clean hand. Promise or not, he held it away from his skull, "I hear you have a bone to pick with me?"

"FINALLY YOU LAZY PILE OF—" She coughed as Papyrus loudly cleared his throat, dialing down the volume enough to let him justify bringing it closer. But not too close. "Uh—I mean. SANS. What the hell did you do this morning? I spent half an hour trying to convince my friend you hadn't gotten your lazy ass killed. I mean seriously. Did that dumb bridge you guys insist on keeping around finally crack?"

"Honestly, cap'n? It's mighty foggy for me. Couldn't tell ya." He ignored his brother's scandalized expression. Heh. He loved riling his brother up. It was one of his few pleasures in life. "My memory span doesn't seem to reach that far."

"UGH. JOKES AND UNPROFESSIONAL NICKNAMES ASIDE," Papyrus yelled over his shoulder at the phone, as Papyrus was won't to do. Sans suppressed another wince. "AS I INFORMED YOU, SANS HAS NOT BEEN OUT OF THE HOUSE ALL MORNING. HE—SANS? WHERE DID YOU SAY YOU WOKE UP AGAIN?"

"The workshop."

"THE WORKSHO—WAIT. WE HAVE A WORKSHOP?"

"The basement Pap."

"OH. RIGHT. STRANGE. I DON'T THINK I'VE BEEN DOWN THERE FOR AGES. I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN IT WAS THERE."

Of course he did.

The workshop had been Sans and—static. Pap didn't have the attachment to that place. He didn't have the research and magic and connection—

The pressure behind his eye flared. The static crackled, trying to rival the other. Increasing louder and louder in volume. He couldn't fight it. Sans tried to let it go. Let the memories sink back to whatever mental box he'd tucked them away into, but something didn't want to give up. It made the static worse. WHich made his head spin. Which fed the pressure and it all came back around.

"ANYWAY. MAYBE YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR FRIEND? IF IT HAPPENED THIS MORNING, IT WAS PROBABLY NOTHING MORE THAN A NIGHTMARE. NOT THAT I CAN IMAGINE SANS BEING IN A NIGHTMARE. HE'S TOO LAZY AND COMPLETELY UN-SCARY TO STAR IN ONE OF THOSE."

"THAT ISN'T THE POINT PAPYRUS! The point is I ALMOST HAD TO GO TO HOTLAND BECAUSE OF IT! I HATE hotland! He needs to get his lazy ass over there and apologize to her or I'm gonna beat it into the ground!"

Doc…

The thought whispered through the ages. Nudged from under lock and key by well-meaning curiosity.

Da—static—

The universe fought back with a roar.

Hot. Why was it so hot. Was he running a fever? Skeletons didn't run fevers—or have hearts, why was his racing. Sticky. Red. Papyrus hovering and worried. The phone squawked away on the floor, dropped by slack fingers.

The buzzing of the static drowned everything out.

X-X-X

The flowers again.

This time Sans wasn't standing on the edge. He was lying on his back in the center of the field. He left his eyes closed, basking in the numb darkness.

Petals shifted, brushing up against and tickling his skull. Sans thought about checking it out, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Still. He knew what they were there for. He raised a hand and patted the unseen blooms beside him, inviting them to sit.

They did. Petals rustling and shifting. Cold fire burning at his side. He didn't need to look to know that.

"I'd appreciate it if you don't...do that again. It isn't worth fighting. You just gotta give a little."

...sorry…

"Forgeddaboudit." He waved a hand dismissively, "It's better that way. Some things aren't meant to be remembered."

...it's better that way.

It's better that Pap never knew what he was missing.

It's better that Alphys never remembered the friend she once had.

It's better...that Sans didn't dwell on someone he couldn't save.

They never remembered anyway, even when Sans had bothered to try. He'd learned his lesson fast.

I always do.

"Yeah, well, the rest of us ain't so lucky."

Silence.

"...sorry kiddo. Didn't mean it like that." He sighed, "It's...personal. In the past. Not really worth it right now. We'll figure something out."

...yeah…

Shards of white, veins of red, desperately trying to hold them together. Sans' chest ached.

"I'ma…take a nap for a bit, ok? This is the only place I don't seem to have a headache from hell."

...sans…

"Hm?"

...sorry. I'll try to be more careful.

"...don't worry about it kiddo. I'm just a little more fragile than what you are used to. That's all."

He fell asleep to a wordless voice humming an unfamiliar lullaby.

X-x-x

Funny-Bone59 has started a conversation.

*Heya. I hear you had a bad time this morning. I got an earful from an angry fish-lady about it.

*I don't know what you saw, and honestly, I don't want to.

*But if you still remember it, then there's a chance it'll stick this time.

*You'll realize you've done this before. That you could recite that conversation before it even happened. You'll notice you knew the results of that experiment before you finish it.

*Try not to think about it too much. It's easier. You might want to check your DT levels. Just in case.

*Just, one thing. If you do remember next time, PLEASE don't sic Undyne on me. I'm not quite up for playing fish in a barrel with that spear.

Funny-Bone59 has signed off.

Sans leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at the dimly glowing monitor.

He wasn't sure if it was worth the effort...but two for two. If he didn't get a call next time then he'd know for sure.

He often forgot Undyne didn't make empty threats. He'd managed the shortcut just in time for that glowing blue energy spear to splinter the door into tiny pieces.

...maybe he should just stop closing that door period. That was the second time it, heh, bit the dust. At least he was safe down here. Undyne's unscheduled presence was just enough of a distraction to keep Papyrus from being a helicopter. He hadn't meant to faint. Honest.

The pressure in his skull was still there, but it was more of a low growl than a roar now. He could hear himself think again.

Was it getting better? Or was he just getting used to it? In the end, he wasn't sure he cared.

Two days.

Did he wait?

Did he go?

The anomaly, the—dust smudged face and wide, knife drawn smile, demon-child—wasn't restrained by the script. Not like everyone else.

Where's the other one?

Unbidden, Sans' good eye was drawn to the photo album, sitting innocently on the workbench beside the computer.

Black ink creeping across the smiling faces.

Where's the other one?

He hadn't broken the pen this time. It was still stowed away in the desk drawer. But the stain remained, marring the one hope he had for a happy ending.

Where's the other one?

The pressure built. Something tickled his cheek, splashing against his hand. Sans reached up to wipe the almost liquid red magic away. Heat lingered on the tips of his index finger, forming a tiny droplet, eerily highlighted in the blue light from the computer screen.

Papyrus had mentioned it looked like tears.

Red magic. Why red magic of all things?

Red magic was will. Red magic was determination. It required hope.

Everything he lacked.

He was patience, first and foremost. Cyan magic, a tinge of yellow, and blue. Passive, until he absolutely needed to be. As far from the red, who acted, as he could be.

He held his head in his hands. Not from pain this time, but from weariness. Not of the body—he'd gotten plenty of sleep all things considered—but of just...everything.

Once, he'd had a purpose.

Once, he'd worked to make things a better place.

Once, they'd made a terrible mistake.

And then it'd never happened and the world became poorer for it.

Once, he'd made a promise.

Once, he'd made a friend.

Once, Sans had seen the surface.

And now all that was left was a ruined photograph.

Over and over, he'd dared to hope.

Over and over, he'd seen his brother die.

Over and over, he'd killed himself inside.

Cracks. White shards, slowly crumbling to dust.

Monsters just can't stay determined forever. Undyne had proven that in a timeline that no longer was.

Only Boss monsters could freely handle red magic. Only their souls were strong enough to take the concentrations of determination.

His...well… honestly he was afraid to check. He didn't know what he'd see.

A fine grey dust spilling through fingers, no matter how hard they tried.

Bits and pieces of dreams. Resounding cracks, echoing through the memory fragments, preceding pain and then darkness.

He hoped he was wrong. That the phone call was just a fluke he didn't remember and nothing changed in the next reset. Alph didn't deserve this. No one did.

He wondered if she'd seen him die. That's what it sounded like.

Orange. Blue.

***** is sparing you.

He wished he could just lay down that last shred of hope and stop caring. Like the photograph, ruined and bitter and the momento of something lost.

But one thing kept him going.

Even more so than his promises.

...you know me and promises.

Protect them.

Stop me.

Even if he'd died last time.

Pap hadn't.

x-x-x

A/N: Here's chapter 5. This was originally a little longer but I like the stopping point here. We'll start with a certain demon child again next time. I don't really want to write out the wait again since nothing'll be too different.

…In case you can't tell…I like reloads. It's so neat working through a scenario a second or third time and seeing how things change (or don't) because of what happened before.

Reviews and comments are always appreciated!