A Tale of Consequences

Reset?

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Chapter 11

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"Catch me if you ca—an~"

Sans gave the open door a resigned shrug, using the motion to detach the magical tethers he'd used to force open the heavy stone. Really? The demon child made him wait an entire extra day and a half, only to want to play tag?

It couldn't be a coincidence. Running away? After sitting around and giggling at him all night? Granted, that had particularly effective. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, knowing they were just waiting on the other side of the stone and it could open at any moment.

"SANS!"

It made him flinch, but the memory of his brother's shout had him glancing suspiciously behind him. The faint pressure behind his skull had him suspecting the memory hadn't risen unbidden.

"Yeah, I got it, kid." He muttered, picking at the scarred ridges on the side of his skull. Considering. Wondering how many of those little nudges had been the kid all along.

It was obviously a trap, just like Pap's presence had been. Follow the kid's own personal Mr. Hyde, get lost in an unfamiliar place, and then have them circle around him and leave. He'd be able to use a shortcut to get back out even if they blocked the entrance somehow, but if they made it out of the chokepoint he had set up at his station, he'd have to wait until the longer bridge before Snowdin, and by then the sentries might be dust. They'd have more LV by then. More HP. Just overall more bothersome.

...blocked the entrance somehow.

He prodded at the thought as it was echoed back at him. And then grinned.

Good idea kid.

He stepped a few yards down the darkened corridor, holding a hand out behind him. The giant skull filled the hall, its inner glow knifing through the gloom.

The beam of concentrated energy tore into the ceiling, dissolving weakening rock the longer he let it go. A few quick calculations, a few more seconds and then he cut it off abruptly.

Rock creaked and groaned. Splintering as the specific sections he'd targeted failed to hold up the ceiling.

It crashed down behind him. Blocking the path. Blocking the door.

If they wanted to play tag, fine. But there wouldn't be an easy way out this time.

The glow from his eye lit the tunnel faintly. Just enough to see by. It was long. Straight. There was another door at the end. A door, half open, with flickering firelight behind it.

Torches.

A memory whispered. He'd never been down here before.

There were indeed torches lining the walls. Flickering low in their sconces. Abandoned. Unchecked. He took another step through the door. Something caught on his slipper, dragged with the motion. Sans looked down.

A torn purple robe. A smeared, grey-white pile of dust, tinted faintly orange in the light from the fire..

Everything just stopped.

"Welcome home, partner."

He turned his frozen grin on the dead-eyed child. Icy fingers curled around his soul. Squeezing. Grief. Dread.

"Why—"

It was his voice. But not his words. Another, smaller one echoed them. It bubbled up from the depths of their shared soul, hanging in the enclosed chamber.

"She was your mother."

Lips curled into a knife-cut grin, dust smeared cheeks dimpled. "Don't sound so shocked! It isn't like this is the first time. What did you think happened?"

The familiar pressure was back, building exponentially with each passing moment. Sans began to feel lightheaded, the pressure pulsing and pounding—but he could still think. He could think very clearly. Everything sharpened, focusing on a single point.

"Oh! I didn't know you could yodel!"

A pleasant memory from what felt like lifetimes ago. Two voices, laughing in the cold night air. For hours.

Knock Knock.

Who's there?

And now there was silence.

Something must have shown on his face, because the demon suddenly moved, leaping backwards as a wave of bones exploded from their feet.

Logically. He'd known anyone beyond the door had been lost. They had too much LV.

Seeing the discarded and forgotten robe wrapped around his slipper—left where it had fallen like any other piece of meaningless litter. The carelessly scattered dust.

A torn red scarf, buried and soon lost in the blowing snow.

Some things had stuck with him through the nightmares. Most ended up lost when everything rewound. But...

It never had felt real until they killed Papyrus either.

I'm so—

"Don't." He knew where that was going.

Just Don't.

"Don't what?" Behind that easy smile, they were tense. Weight forward. Ready to move at an instant.

"Not talkin' to you." He calculated the distance between the two walls. Magic sparked, and he yanked. Bone-shaped constructs erupted from either side. Crisscrossing. Piercing cloth and flesh because they didn't have the time or space to move.

"Hehe." A sharp hiss, but it barely did any damage. The ribbon glittered in the torchlight. They took the toy knife and drove it through the bones that dug into their shoulder, thigh and gut. They parted like butter, dissolving into tiny motes of magic, leaving tiny cuts and trickles of blood soaking into cloth. "Talking to yourself isn't a good sign, you know."

"Not like you can throw stones." Tch. Still not enough karma for direct attacks. Guess he had to rely on environmental damage again.

They try to dash down the hall. Ping. He yanks them back sharply. They end up skidding across the rough stone floor, his magic sliding off their slippery soul—how the hell did they have a soul if he had the kid's?—but it lasted long enough for him to throw a series of blue attacks crisscrossing the hall. More bone erupted from the stone beneath them. They'd immediately rolled, bouncing to their feet just in time for—

Ping.

They flew up, toward the ceiling. Once gravity righted itself, they'd fall—

Crunch.

But they got up again. Bruised and scuffed but still smiling. Damn humans were resilient. Probably didn't help that the hallway wasn't that tall.

Tall enough for m—

"You'll never win."

...that hit home.

"I dunno about that. By my count we're dead even right now."

The blaster seemed to take up half the hallway, but it did it's job in absorbing the knife slashes as they sprang forward. Sans took a step away, summoning another series of bone attacks to drive the demon back. They danced around them easily despite the cramped space.

"One for one. A death for a death?" They giggled again, clinging to the blaster's sloped skull, shadowed eyes peering through matted bangs at him. "Yet here we are again, and I have the advantage."

The pressure was pulsing. It kept him on his feet. A sleepless night worrying. That little nagging feeling that maybe they were right. He was stuck. Maybe none of this would matter.

"Not from where I'm standin' bud." Sans tried to push it back. It was...easier than usual. Doubts and worries being smothered by that blanket of pressure. Focus on surviving now, eh? "You don't really have much space to run in here."

They dropped in a cloud of dust and magic as he dismissed the blaster, directly into a forest of conjured bone. Enough small nicks and slowly the damage would be done, he thought grimly as they tore through. He had trouble holding dense concentrations, but in this small space...well. It was far easier to pack them in close. They made it out just to swerve, avoiding a sudden wall of blue constructs. Sans pulled even more out from the top of the passage as they tried to leap over it. They collided with a spark of magic, being thrown back.

Ping

The mottled soul flashed blue. Sans jerked his hand.

The blue magic slid away like water, barely tugging at the soul. Holding on just long enough to make them stumble.

They caught themselves against the wall, "See? Even with all my partner's determination, you'll never match mine."

The white and black-mess didn't fade like it normally did. It tinged red, as if shining through a thick cloud.

"You are stuck. Stuck and you don't even know it! What would happen if you killed me here anyway? Mother is dead.Do you think they could be satisfied with that?"

The toy knife shot out, slicing clean through the wall of bone. Sans stepped. Back. Down the hall. Back toward the door. Toward the torches and scorch marks and dust covered stones. He pulled up a series of crisscrossing bones—blue ones. They were sturdier—and they just barreled right through, tanking the damage even as their soul flashed with each point.

The knife glinted in the fire-light. The plastic edge bathed in red. Glimmering.

"You can't save. You can't reset. Never able to move forward. Never able to progress. Do you really want to be stuck with me forever? Do you really think your will can outlast mine?"

Sans just snorted.

"That ain't my decision alone, bud." He tapped lightly on his skull, fingerbones going numb from the lingering stream of red magic staining off-white. He had barely even noticed when it started seeping. Not surprising, if it was caused by Determination. The Kid had a lot of it right now. "Kid might be a messed up bundle of guilt and regret, but they made me promise. No one else gets hurt. And given To—the old lady, you aren't ready to turn over a new leaf yet."

"...what if I did?"

Say what now?

"What if I made a promise?" Sans hadn't thought that smile could get even creepier. "I could promise not to touch anyone. Not your brother. Not your friends. Azzy and I could cross the barrier, leaving the Underground trapped, but intact."

Trapped. But alive. And this loop would end at last.

It was tempting. But Sans could guess what the cost would be. He snapped his finger, summoning a blaster between them. To hell with worrying about a cave-in.

"Nice offer, but no thanks. Kid doesn't seem too thrilled with the idea."

Shadowed eyes crinkled. "Pity."

Behind—

Sans stepped.

Perspective tilted as he was suddenly meters down the hall. Green vines skewered the space he'd just been standing.

The...pile of dust was moving. Something was rising. Dust spilling off yellow petals in a steady stream. A nightmare cackled at him.

The blaster fired. The child ducked and rolled. The energy dug into stone, spinning wildly as it tried to follow the target, drilling a long line into the wall and ceiling before Sans stepped again, dissolving the blaster with a sharp hand motion.

Vines lashed out. Curling around his arm, forcing him to step again.

And again.

And again.

The cramped nature of the corridor suddenly working against him as vines and bullets and knives lashed out at every turn. The soul in his ribcage was pulsing wildly. Erratic. Fear and worry as it produced enough of that damn energy to leave him jittery and nearly missing a step as he summoned a blaster to absorb a flurry of bullets.

"How long would it take before their determination wavered, I wonder?"

Sans didn't even have time to track the demon's movements, his dim vision barely able to track the green and white and the cyan flare as he took step after step. Out of the corridor. Out into the slightly larger black room. A faintly lit spot of grass growing in the center. The door was blocked by a pile of rubble.

More vines sprung from the patch. Grasping and hungry. A stem and petals emerged, roots digging into rock, hanging from the ceiling. A twisted face. He had LV. Sans realized with a start. The flower was dripping with it. Oily and disgusting and he could hurt it.

A blaster shot disintegrated a wave of constructs. Another took a flurry of white pellets. A quick succession of bone attacks struck the flower's small body as it moved to burrow back into the stone. The laughter shifted to angry cursing.

Hp began to tick down.

Too slow.

"Even if you win, we'd end up here again."

The soul shuddered within his. Just slightly out of sync.

Crack.

"Because they can't just let someone die."

Crack.

Maybe they were right.

Sans threw out his arms, a ring of blasters appearing at his call.

Vines curled around a small body protectively. Another set of sharpened thorns shot towards him.

In the end, did it matter if he survived? They'd just start back here again.

The Door Lady—torielmom—could be—

If they could be faster next time. They could save her.

No. That thinking was dangerous. There was no guarantee. He had no idea what triggered each retry. If he just allowed himself to die—on the faint hope that the kid was right, and that it would start over again—

Well. It could be the end.

A ring of simultaneous blasts nearly blinded him. The air was thick with dust and motes of loose magic. He felt more than saw a blaster shatter.

Crack.

He moved to step. Aiming for safety. Magic flared. Resistance. Thorns tore free from the stone floor, thorns shearing through bone even as he made the necessary calculations.

He tripped.

Something punched through his chest. Still too late. Soul splintering. Whelp. Guess he had to hope the kid was right.

He drew on leaking magic. Shielding Bone. Blasting through vine and stone and—that was Flowey screaming.

A faint mechanical hum.

Suddenly pressure. Forcing the splintering shards back together. In one moment he felt like he was in two places at once.

The dragon-skull scattered to dust.

*Reload failed.

X-x-x

"Not this time."

The treated glass hummed in my hands as I screwed the lid back on. It felt warm. Alive. Through it I could see the white soul continuing to crumble, the red cracks widening and attempting to fill in the spaces desperately. Even with the stabilizing effect of the soul container. Heh. Monster souls were so weak.

I had to admit everything was worth it to watch that smiling skeleton reduced to dust. I sucked in a breath, waiting for the wonderful rush of strength and power of yet another monster down. Especially him. The one I'd died to so many times. The thief. The one to dare spirit away my partner.

But...it didn't happen. It...held together somehow. Clinging to my partner's determination like a leech. Enveloped in a thin red shell.

Pity. But there was plenty more opportunity to level up now. In a way, I was glad they hadn't taken my deal. Sparing everyone would be boring.

The comedian might have. But not my partner. Not with the old hag dead. There was a reason I'd dusted her so soon, and it wasn't just scraping for every bit of EXP I could squeeze out of the ruins.

Insurance.

Rocks above us creaked.

"Uh, Chara, not to rush or anything—" I glanced up at the woven vines supporting the weakened ceiling, and then over at Azzy. He instinctively wilted, although the fear only took a moment to morph into pain from the multitude of tears in his leaves and petals. That last attack had even left a nasty burn. I was tempted to try checking him, but he'd be fine. I remembered that creeping pain, the one that lasted long after I'd been hit. A lingering shadow and weight. It couldn't kill. Not alone. "I mean—golly, I can't believe that worked!"

"It was all thanks to you Azzy." I gave him an indulgent smile, which led him to break out in pleased giggles. Without him fetching the soul container, this might have turned out to be much more difficult. It was hilarious how tunnel-visioned the comedian could get, given it had been Azzy's intervention each time that screwed him up. It made me wonder how much he really knew, and how much was just guesswork.

"I told you I could be useful!" He preened. Winced again. "Why don't you just take your soul back so we can save and get outta here?"

Your soul. It sounded...nice.

I hum and look down at upside-down heart floating inside the container, the bright red of my partner's soul barely visible within the semi-opaque depths.

So close. In the core of my patchwork soul, the tiny red seed pulsed at the proximity.

So...close.

"Not yet."

I can't yet.

"Why not?"

I give him another look.

"What?" The flower didn't back down like usual. Interesting. He tried to wave a leaf in emphasis, but abandoned the gesture when it pulled at his burn. "We worked so hard to get it back. What's the point if you don't take it?"

"Silly Azzy." I giggle, splaying a hand against my chest. "A human can't just absorb a soul. If you paid attention to Mother's History lectures you'd know that. Only monsters can."

He was cute when he looked this grumpy, his oh so friendly face morphing into something much more interesting than the facsimile he'd taken to using around her.

"Then WHAT was the POINT of all that? I could have burrowed us both out of here ages ago. I've been watching the idiot. He would have waited there unknowing while we massacred the underground!"

"Oh. I don't know. Revenge?" I flipped the knife, lazily, wiping the dust off the blade with the slowly darkening sweater. I thought about detouring back to our old room, just to grab a clean shirt. Mom was so sentimental. She probably still had some of my old clothes. "Regaining control of the timeline? Even if I can't take it...well...they can't reload either. Not in there."

And now...all we needed was time.

"Oh don't you pout at me, Azzy. This is still their body. They just need to choose to come back."

He arches an eyebrow skeptically, "What if they don't? The smiley trashbag said the little monarch agreed to no deal."

My finger traces the shape of the soul on the glass. Warm and humming.

They will.

They left in order to stop a genocide run after all.

"Then we get to have a bit of fun. Aren't you tired of these musty ol' ruins yet, Azzy?"

The soul shuddered. Suspended in the glass.

I smiled.

They always had a choice.

Continue.

Or Reset.

And now, the only way to reset was through me.

X-x-x

He stood in an expanse of yellow. Blurred blobs of color that shifted and flowed. He knew they were flowers. Not that he could feel them brushing against his shins, or feel the ground beneath him. Nothing really felt real. Even what passed for his own body was some jumbled mess of white, cyan, and the occasional smattering of other colors.

It was familiar enough. Was this what it looked like when he wasn't dreaming?

Even the weight in his arms didn't feel heavy at all. Just a shifting red blob that had something that could possibly be hands that were curled into a similarly indistinct blob that had probably once been his shirt.

Whelp. I think we're pretty screwed kiddo.

Beyond the edge of color was...nothing.

He could feel the thump of both their souls. Out of sync and grating against each other. The Kid's fast, frantic, like a frightened rabbit. His, slower, stuttering, dragged along by the other's desperation even as it wanted to stop completely.

He was kinda wishing the kid let it shatter.

Can't say we didn't try, He shrugged. That deal's lookin' a bit better in hindsight.

The head against his chest shook.

...no?

...kid?

*DETERMINATION.

Sans sighed. He stared out into the void, wondering if it was staring back at him.

...whatever you say kid.

Something shimmered in the blur of color. Black and Orange. The panels looked familiar. Like they were from a dream he barely remembered. They too were distorted nearly beyond recognition. He couldn't read the labels.

Their soul pulsed faster. Erratic. Sans wondered if they were trying to tear it apart themselves.

Black spider-webbing through red.

Hesitantly, he reached for the choice that felt right.

The formless mess of his hand passed right through it. It fritzed, like his old television during a particularly heavy storm. It slowly crumbled away.

That...pressure again. Not from within, like he'd come to recognize as the kid's determination. But from without. Squeezing on them both. Forcing them together. Fighting...whatever the kid was trying to do.

Their strange two-toned soul reluctantly settled back into its asynchronous beat. Sans sank to the 'ground.' Still holding the red blur in the crook of one arm. He hadn't even considered letting go. They were the only thing remotely solid left.

*Reload failed.

He was tired.

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A/N: Feel free to ask questions if you want or need to!

Now you know why Flowey was sneaking into the lab ;3