Chapter 15: Mind Games
AN: Aiyee, trigger warnings!
When you opened your eyes, you braced yourself, but you couldn't have possibly mentally prepared yourself for the road ahead of you. This road was, in fact, the very same highway that you had found yourself being propelled down so many times you had lost count, that no matter hard you tried you simply could not block out of your memory.
"Damnit!" You cursed, smashing your fist into the dashboard of the red convertible you were seated in as tears streamed down your face. You were at a loss, not knowing what to do or even how you ended up back in the scenario that had started this whole mess, near minutes before that dreaded car crash.
"Frisk?" You turned your head around to see Sans, holding you on his lap, crying. "Why did you bring us here, Frisk?" His voice was utterly defeated.
"No! I didn't! I mean, I-" You stuttered, watching in horror as more tears fell and his face slowly grew more and more sunken in.
His eyes darkened infinitely, black holes permeating his frontal bone, lacrimals emitting a liquid that flooded your soul with sadness. You gasped, dismayed as his skull cracked down the center and he screeched, letting go of you to grip his head and claw at the gap that was rapidly growing. Mortified, the tears raining from his empty sockets began to turn grey and almost grainy in texture. Before you knew what was happening, he was crying dust and the rest of his body followed suit, chipping away into a gritty pile around you, coating your clothes like sand.
"SANS!" You screamed, clutching his carpals, trying to hold him as his body impossibly turned to dust and slid through your slender fingertips. The wind whisked away his ashes, coating the backseat of the still moving car. "P-Papyrus!" You sobbed. "What's happening?" You begged him to try and find some semblance of comfort in the one you always had.
However, what you saw when you turned to look at Papyrus scared you just as much if not more then what you had just witnessed. You clung to the seat beneath you, but your fingers slipped and scrambled at the feel of Sans' ashes. Terrified, you could do nothing but watch as Papyrus – if you could even call him that – turned so you could fully see him. You emitted a gasp of shock, unable to scream at the cracks and gashes lacerating his bones, sockets mutilated with blood pouring out of them, the foul stench of death permeating your sinuses and churning your stomach.
"Frisk," he moaned, voice clearly pained as he uttered your name, insects crawling from his tattered clothes. "Why have you done this...?" He droned on, whispering dangerously, mysterious fluids continuing to drain from the numerous wounds decorating his once white osteons.
Slowly, he reached towards you, tearing his hands away from the wheel to grab your shoulders. You tried to get away, telling your body to move, but you were immobilized from the trauma that was before you. His grip was nothing like any hold Papyrus had ever had on you before, harsh and clinging to you as if you were his freshly killed prey. Your breath came in shutters as Papyrus steadily began to increase pressure on your shoulders, shifting your bones beneath your flesh as he slowly crushed you.
"Why..." He howled again, continuing to press into you until you thought your body would collapse from the pressure. Just as your shoulders began to bow, the Papyrus mutilation crumbled, turning into dust on your lap, releasing you to scream until you fainted in the remains of the two people you loved most who were gone and now dead once more.
"Frisk." A calming whisper. "Wake up."
You opened your eyes, expecting the worst. The last few years had taught you to expect the worst when waking up in an unfamiliar place, but when all you saw was Sans face smiling genuinely, his phalanges stroking your forehead, you couldn't help but relax and smile back.
"You were having a nightmare." That didn't surprise you, both you and Sans were tormented by them quite often. "We're okay now, though."
"How did we get away from Flowey?" You asked, sitting up as you vaguely remembered being trapped in a dark room.
"You tried to load your save, remember? You passed out once we appeared in Hotland, and I brought you here. We're safe for now."
Even though his explanation seemed flimsy, you decided that right now you didn't want to find out what might have actually happened. Instead, you sighed, basking in the moment of calmness and sinking back in Sans' lap. Safe at last, you thought gratefully, noticing that Sans had even draped his blue sweatshirt around you. You smiled at that and curled up in it, drawing your hands through the sleeves. "Thank you," you breathed, eyes fluttering closed.
"Don't mention it, love."
You blushed, daring to squint up at Sans. He looked tired and worn out, but content. He exhaled softly, and you felt the air that left his mouth sweep your hair away from your ears. He leaned down to tuck your head into the fuzz-lined hood, slipping it under you. As he pulled back, he snuck his fingers around your ears, lingering a moment too long at your cheekbone before he dipped right back down, surprising you with a chaste kiss to the lips.
Surprise overcame you for a moment, immobilizing you, but it was a only a moment before you returned the kiss, melting into his embrace, coccooned in his warmth. To your disappointment, he drew away from you all too soon, but his touch came back in the form of a gentle stroke to your chin.
Pressing against his palm, you smiled and closed your eyes, basking in the fact that you and Sans were in a position where you could relax enough to share some affection and that he seemingly returned your feelings. You felt yourself smile even wider at the thought of a normal life with Sans by your side.
"Beautiful." Sans whispered, nuzzling you gently. You chuckled, both charmed and puzzled by the amount that he was going through to smother you.
"And here I thought that you had a thing with the Riverwoman," you commented jokingly, looking up at Sans' face in hopes to see his reaction. However, instead of his goofy, trademark grin, you were met with a grimace of confusion. You instantly regretted your choice of words, briefly forgetting the recent tragedy surrounding her existence, but what Sans' said concerned you even more. .
"Who..?" he asked, before grinning and clutching you tighter.
You frowned, attempting to nudge him off of you, your mind cleared enough to realize that something was off about this of all. It wasn't like Sans to be so sudden or oblivious, especially with his brother still missing.
"Sans, what's wrong with you?"
Slowly, Sans' released you and his grin turned into a foul scowl. The light disappeared from his eyes as he spoke; "Well, I guess I've had my fun." Protruding from behind him, long spiny vines emerged, tangling around you and tightly binding your limbs to your core. You shrieked, body tensing in pain. A maniacal laugh came from Sans' as he sashayed towards you, evil smirk morphing his face in a whirl of magic into the flower that held you captive. His limbs gave way to Flowey's vile leaves, white bone becoming more organic. In an instant, the illusion around you revealed your true environment, showing that you were in Alphys's lab, tied down to a lab table with the menacing flower leaning over you instead of Sans, chuckling.
"Where's Sans?" You demanded, tugging against your restraints.
"Why so hasty?" Taunted the flower, leaning closer to pull a leaf along your jawline. You hissed at the contact, feeling a trickle of blood run down your neck. "He's somewhere else where he can't bother us. I've got you all to myself." Another laugh from him made the hairs on the back of your neck rise, but you kept your fists clenched despite your fear. "Your fantasies aren't too difficult to figure out, as well as your deepest fears." He leaned back on his haunches, straightening the spine of his stem and making a clicking noise with his leafy hand. "Like this," he chuckled as the space around you began to shift.
Before you had a chance to seethe at him, he had vanished with a flutter of petals and the lab was replaced with a musty public restroom, stalls doors ragged and hanging on their hinges. Hesitantly, afraid of what he might be showing you, you stepped toward the only closed stall. As you approached the cubicle, you heard muffled sniffing, like someone was crying. Slowly, you pushed the door inwards and it creaked open. You gasped at what you saw. A young child with short, ratty brown hair sat hunchbacked on the toilet. The long sleeves of their striped shirt was pulled up to reveal a web of bright red cuts, frantically scattered among a graveyard of similarly shaped scars trailing up vertically. As the back of the door slammed against the wall of the stall, their head bolted up. The second you looked at their face, you realized that you were looking at yourself, albeit a much younger version of yourself. You recognized the pain in their eyes, how empty and non-caring they looked despite being startled and bleeding out. Defeated, they looked down from your shocked gaze, dropping a boxcutter blade that clattered with a clink to the tiled bathroom floor. Silent tears streamed down your face. The scene before you was all too familiar, you questioned how Flowey had recreated such a scenario without possibly having access to your memories. Feeling suddenly weak, you fell to your knees as sobs wracked your being. Too abruptly for you to adjust, you were whisked back to reality, tied down and crying weakly as your lungs took in stuttering breaths.
Flowey cackled. "And this is it. This is when the fun begins. This, my dear Frisk, is when you get what you deserve." As you weakly sniffed mucus back into your nostrils, he dangled the core above your face, your eyes catching a glint of light in the crystalline surface of the gem. "Amazing what a little determination can do, huh, Frisk?" Blinding anger flared up from the depths of your gut. You felt as if you might vomit. The last thing you heard was Flowey's insane laughter filling the laboratory, and you passed out, body and mind weak from the mental torture, wondering how the hell you got in this position and how the fuck you were going to get out.