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This simply isn't ethical.
Sans.
It's not about what's ethical, it's about what's efficient.
I can't keep doing this; you can't keep making me do this!
Sans.
No! I mean it this time, I-I can't do this anymore, consequences be damned!
Sans! Just put it down, we can still talk about this!
No! No more! No more dead kids!
SANS!
"Wha-?" Sans screamed and jerked awake, eyes rolling wildly as he tried to force himself out of the nightmare.
"Sans?" Papyrus held his shoulder worriedly. The skeleton was wearing shorts and a long white shirt, his face tight with concern.
"What happened?" he gripped his pounding head in one hand, sitting up on the couch.
"You fell asleep in the basement," Papyrus explained. "Again."
"No, I mean after that..." Sans said slowly, looking around. "... Wait, how did I get in the living room?"
"I... carried you upstairs," his brother frowned, but a great deal of the worry had vanished from his face. "You started having a nightmare, or night... terrors, or something, I suppose; shouting in your sleep. I-I was worried."
Sans blinked.
"Everything's fine," he gave a weak chuckle. "Just a bad dream is all. It happens."
"Well, it happens if you stay awake for days on end," Papyrus scolded him lightly, but he seemed to be a little relieved. "Just... promise me you'll take a break from your work, or-or something. You make me worry, Sans."
"Okay, alright," he replied immediately to pacify him. "Can't have people thinking I'm a workaholic. They'll think you're rubbing off on me."
"You could use the good influence," Papyrus chortled. His gaze softened, and his frown wrinkled back. "Just... take it easy for a little while. Promise?"
"Alright, yes, I promise" Sans nodded sleepily before letting his head fall back onto the couch. "Tomorrow we'll go on a picnic or something, just enjoy the day out. It'll be great."
"Of course it will be great," Papyrus scoffed as be began ascending the flight of stairs to his room. "I'm going to be there."
Sans laughed and shook his head.
"Good night, brother."
"G'night, Paps."
Sans sat in the darkness for a long while, his mind still racing furiously and his head pounding from the inside out. He held his chin in deep contemplation, staring into the cold fireplace for what felt like hours.
Flowey watched as he paced the room again and again before finally creeping into the basement and vanishing from the world once more.
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The day was sunny and bright, a pleasantly warm breeze rolling over the hills and rustling Sans's jacket. He held his hands in his jacket as they walked, Papyrus swinging his arms in wide arcs as he carried a carefully packed basket in front of everyone. It even had a plaid picnic blanket poking out of one corner, jostled by Papyrus and the breeze. Frisk, wearing her favorite striped sweater, was almost jogging to keep up with them, grinning widely as she held Toriel's hand. Papyrus was deep in conversation with Toriel about something or other, but Sans just couldn't manage to keep up with it.
Sans felt a creeping sensation on the back of his neck, and twisted around out of instinct.
He frowned, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. Everything was going to be fine. It was a bright, sunny day. Hardly a cloud in sight. He just had to keep telling himself that everything was perfectly normal.
He knew the feeling of being watched, and everything he felt told him that there was someone watching, just out of sight.
And every time he turned around, there was nobody there.
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Sans pored over the blueprints in the fluorescent light of the basement, resisting the urge to rub his eyes.
A small sliver of steam rose up from his cup of hot tea, and he twirled it as he cupped it absentmindedly. His finger trailed down a long list of numbers and he mentally circled an equation before lazily drifting over to the schematics. It had taken so long to sketch out the rough drafts, the immense amount of planning and countless hours spent ensuring, hoping that it would work were beginning to take their toll. Sans forced himself to keep going, jotting down little notes in hands here and there across the paper.
He stifled his umpteenth yawn, his mind feeling numb.
Was it even the right thing to do? Was it really even possible?
Maybe Gaster wasn't exactly the best influence, but he was still brilliant; perhaps even the most ingenious and clever soul that Sans had ever met, and that was counting Alphys. Since selling even a small number of her patents after making it to the overworld, Alphys had practically been raking in money. He wondered briefly if Gaster might have ever done the same before shaking his head lightly. No, it was unlikely. The doctor was far too proud, too reclusive to ever let anyone see his private work.
Aside from Alphys and Sans, of course.
Sans stared down, looking a mile through the blueprints.
Then again, there were things that even Gaster kept to himself; things that he would never share with another living soul. Sans reminded himself why bringing him back was so important, why he had to do this. Granted, there hadn't necessarily been any more resets, but that didn't mean that they were just going to stop forever...
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm.
He took a long, silent drought from his now lukewarm tea, drifting in a sea of thoughts, a great number of which were unpleasant.
It would just take a little more work. It would only be a-
matter of time before the kid fell.
Sans breathed heavily, feeling sweat on his head as he swung his hand palm open toward the dark child, flinging an entire row of flying, swiveling bones at her. He barely managed to teleport backwards away from her downward slice, knife gleaming in the light through the judgement hall's stained windows. He brought up his fist swiftly, lifting up an invisible force. At the same time, a pair of floating white Gaster blasters materialized, already humming with power before releasing a double blast of screaming white plasma.
The spot the child had been mere moments before was reduced to a scorched crater, yet miraculously she still managed to slip just out of reach, that same empty, mocking smile etched onto her face. Sans's breathing grew heavier as he roughly jerked away from her next upward knife swing, his heartbeat so loud it was like a drum in his ears. She was relentless in her attacks, perfectly timed in every swing, like she just knew what he was going to do before he even did it. He teleported time and again, each time the delay between her attack and his dodge growing further and further apart.
"You, uh..." he started, stalling for time. "You really like swinging that thing around, huh?"
She didn't respond verbally, opting instead to make a wide lunging swing that barely managed to graze the edge of his jacket. "Hey, take it easy, kiddo. You might put somebody's eye out with that."
The child did not waver. She didn't even blink as she swung at him again, forcing him to teleport just out of reach. It was getting harder and harder to stay out of her range while also summoning glowing bones as both a shield and weapon; she nimbly dodged over each row of bones that cracked the floor, deftly swept aside every projectile he threw at her.
A creeping sensation began crawling at the base of his neck.
It was almost like she was playing with him...
"You really think – huff – that I'm just gonna roll over?" Sans struggled to remain upright, the sheer exhaustion from every reset weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Think I'm just gonna stand around and take it?"
"I think you're gonna die today," she responded quietly, her grin growing as she brought the knife down-
-ns! Sans!"
Sans kicked wildly, curled into the fetal position as he screamed.
He fell to the floor with a whump! Sans strained to keep his eyes from rolling noticing as most of his tools clattered to the floor, released from their glowing blue aura. He fought to sit up, keeping his back straight. An uncomfortably loud bang resounded through the basement as the phase distortion generator landed, creating several small cracks.
"K-kid?"
Frisk was clutching at his jacket tightly, eyes wide with terror as tears rolled down her cheeks. He held a palm to his forehead, feeling an uneasy heat. Her mouth was clenched tightly, and the color had all but drained from her face.
"U-uncle Sans," Frisk began, her voice quavering. "Are y-you o-okay?"
"Am I okay?" he wiped his cheek with one hand, putting on his best poker face. "Yeah, yeah, of course."
"Y-you were yelling p-pretty loudly..." she finally released him, looking up at him even though he was sitting. "I-I thought s-something bad had happened to you, I-I...!"
"Aw, geez," he pulled her into a slow hug, trying not to focus on how his work had probably just been set back by weeks, if not months. "Kid- kiddo, hey, it's gonna be okay, Uncle Sansy is fine. Just had a-a bad dream is all, nothing to worry about."
Frisk hugged him back tightly, face buried in his jacket. He patted the back of her head, letting out a long sigh. He could already feel the nightmare slipping away to the back of his mind. There was simply no way that a kid like Frisk could ever possibly be something as disturbing as that one. She just had too large of a heart to harm a fly. Perhaps if he kept telling himself that he might even begin to believe it.
"Come on, buddy. Let's get you back to bed."
"Um..." Frisk shifted. "Uncle Sans? It's-it's almost eleven."
"At night?"
"Uh... no."
"... Shit."
"Uncle Sans!"
"Don't tell Tori I said that," he grinned weakly, pulling away and standing.
"Tori heard," Toriel's voice drifted down from the top of the stairs behind him.
Sans witheld several more choice words in favor of cringing.
Today was going to be a long day.
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A/N
Sorry it's taking so long on these chapters, I've been crazy busy with moving, so I haven't had much chance to sit down and really write, but now I'm getting back into the groove. I've got more chapters coming out this week. I love to hear your thoughts on the chapters!
Moar coming soon! :D