Circling The Drain

Chapter 11: Circling The Drain

Sans quietly mused to himself that things were most certainly not taking the direction that he had anticipated. It bounced in his head over and over again, echoed behind his eyes, pounded in his sweating bones.

I love you, Sans.

Dirty little liar. They were, they had to be lying. And thinking that way ached .

How was he supposed to react? How was he supposed to respond to that? How could they just keep accepting him, keep forgiving him for the horrible things he'd said to them, he'd done to them? It felt like no matter what he did, there was just no winning. Even when he won, he lost. No matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to win. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair, what they were doing to him. And god did he despise them for it.

But he was just too tired to fight it anymore.

"… S-Sans…?"

They looked like they were about to cry again, trembling slightly.

What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? They were in pain. He'd already hurt them, and no matter how much he wanted to hold his tongue, he could only imagine what his silence would do to them. Maybe they deserved it. At least, he desperately tried to convince himself of that. It would make it easier to deal with. They made him so confused. They made him so, so angry.

They made him so afraid .

He slowly, cautiously pulled their head against his chest, cradling them as close as he could.

"… I love you too, babybones," Sans whispered after a moment. They relaxed visibly, letting out a quiet shuddering breath. He did. He knew it, he loved them, and it was killing him.

It hurt, it physically hurt .

Why? Why were they doing this? Were they doing this to him on purpose? Didn't they know how much it hurt?

Didn't they care?

Even a little?

It would be so much easier if he could just hate them as much as he wanted to.

Love to monsters meant a lot. They were physically composed of it, after all. To think that this thing, this anomaly, this… human felt anything at all was somehow upsetting to him, but love? There were so many things wrong with this. There were so many thoughts running rampant through his mind. So many questions. He decided against asking any of them, instead sighing, closing his eye sockets and leaning back against the couch. Maybe though… maybe he could use this to his advantage. He felt sick and foul and manipulative just for thinking it, but if the little human - if Frisk decided to turn on them he needed backup plans. He didn't actually have to care, he didn't want to care. They couldn't make him. Not now, not ever. He felt Frisk situating themselves to stay on his lap, their arms still locked around his neck. They buried their face into his shoulder, mumbling something, but he couldn't quite make it out. Someone that, for once… needed him. Him. He didn't care, he thought, sinking into himself. He wouldn't. So long as he could just rest for a moment. So long as they could just… stay like this, for a while. No fighting, no running, no resets. A momentarily bit of solace amongst the storm. So long as he could just hold them for a while and let them know that they were loved. They were the only one who understood what he went through. Maybe he was the only one that could understand them.

He wondered if they needed him as badly as he needed them.

… What the actual fuck am I doing with my life.

But the niggling thought remained.

How did he find them?

He had a few guesses, and absolutely none of them were ones that he wanted to acknowledge. A part of him wanted to attribute it to sheer blind luck, but Sans never was a believer in coincidences. Maybe trying to use green magic was starting to affect him in more ways than he realized and it was somehow causing him to develop supersensory abilities, but he sincerely doubted it. It was a theory though. He couldn't sense things around him. That would have been incredibly useful though. He'd practically never have to bother keeping his eye sockets open then. His mind was just so muddled. It was difficult to focus.

Sans awoke with a little start a while later, unsure of the time. He silently kicked himself for never bothering to get a clock and vowed to get one as soon as possible. He then kicked himself again for letting someone with a possible concussion fall asleep.

"… Hey," he nervously but gently shook Frisk awake. They murmured incoherently, their eyes squeezed shut as he tapped them atop the head a few times, his worry growing. "C'mon, kiddo. Hate to say it, but, uh, now's not exactly the best time for a nap. You know?"

"How come?" Frisk asked sleepily, rubbing their eyes. Or at least, trying to, before flinching and letting out a little hiss when they touched the bruise. Sans cringed, instinctively holding out a hand to cover their eye. They blinked and looked directly at him, breath slowing.

Brown eyes.

He silently made it a point to investigate further when he had the strength.

"… We'll get some good food in ya," he rubbed the top of their head after a moment. "Bruise'll be gone before you know it, buddy. But before that, I, uh, kinda think we need to clean up a bit."

Frisk looked at him questioningly for a moment before their mouth formed an o, and they nodded.

"… Y'know. 'Cause I'm pretty sure Paps is gonna freak if he sees blood all over the place," he added for emphasis. Frisk nodded again, looking down sadly at their stained jacket. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll get it good as new. Probably gonna have to wash all that 'ketchup' too, your clothes should be good to go upstairs. Why don't you go get washed up, buddy?"

Frisk looked at him uncertainly for a moment, fidgeting and glancing toward the bathroom before meeting his eyes, biting their bottom lip.

"Can… can you… give me a bath…?"

Say no.

Say no.

Say no.

Say no.

Say no.

Say no.

Say no.

Ye-

Say no.

Say no.

Say. NO.

God fucking dammit please I am literally begging just say no don't break now everything was going to be okay oh god please don't do this pretend there's no tightness just for fuck's sake do the right thing do the right thing please for once in your miserable life why are you so weak you sick fuck do the right thing evil little shit is doing this to me on purpose ought to snap their goddamned neck and save myself the trouble no no no no no NO-

"… Sans?" Frisk asked worriedly, looking alarmed. He felt the pinpricks in his eye sockets return. They looked so frightened. They were afraid of him.

Maybe that was a good thing.

It meant they were smart.

So why did it make him feel so awful ?

"… C'mon, buddy," he trying to force a little grin. He was failing. All he had to do was try, why was it so goddamn hard. "I-I, uh. M-maybe that's not such a good… idea-"

"Please?" they pouted, sticking out their bottom lip and batting their lashes. He felt his soul melt a little, and god he hated how easy it was to break him.

Sans closed his eyes, letting out an unsteady breath before slowly standing and carrying them to the bathroom. He was absolutely pathetic. All that boisterous self proclomation and all it took to crush him down was a puppy dog look? It would be fine. Everything would be fine . His head felt heavy. It was fine. Like giving Papyrus a bath as a little skeleton. The only difference was that this time there was hair and meaty bits to deal with. Yeah. He just had to keep his thoughts in check. So long as he didn't keep indulging in his paranoia and checking their eyes to see if the red irises were back.

But was it really paranoia if he was right?

I'm not always me when I come back, either.

Sometimes, it was like Frisk wasn't really Frisk at all. And the more that he thought about it as he tried to calmly run hot (somewhat excessively) soapy bath water for them, the more that it seemed to make sense. That dream, that vision felt too vivid, too real . There was no way it was a hallucination, it couldn't have been. But if it wasn't real and he kept telling himself it was, he'd just be going crazier… It was like he'd peeked inside of them and saw something that he was never intended to. That other child. The one with the red eyes.

He had to fight to keep his breathing steady as he tested the water every few minutes, making sure it wasn't scalding. Why was it, exactly; what was it about seeing those red eyes that made him so marrow boilingly furious ? It sparked something so violent, so angry inside him, and he hated it. He shouldn't be like this. It didn't matter what color their eyes were, he was supposed to protect them.

The child in the green shirt.

The child with the red eyes.

The one who had looked at him with so much fear, so much fury. So much hate.

I'm not always me when I come back, either.

Sans sat on the edge of the tub and carefully shampooed their head in silence, the scent of strawberries filling the air as he tried not to think of the blood mingling in the soapy water. So long as he stayed focused on the task then everything would be fine. They stayed turned away from him, and he had to kick down the itch to get them to turn so that he could check to ensure that their irises hadn't changed. So long as he didn't look at the marks, everything would be fine.

And yet, he found his eye sockets wandering regardless.

SLUT.

He had to fight to keep his hands from shaking as he held his fingertips over their branding. There was that anger again, but it felt fundamentally different from when those red eyes met his. It was like it had only been slumbering under the surface and now it was furious, it was fiery, it was righteously offended and outright fucking pissed.

Frisk froze at his touch, their breath halting as the water splashed a little.

"… I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to heal this, buddy," Sans said after a moment, looking away with his cheeks stinging a little as he tried to rinse the shampoo from their head. "Christ. I'm-I'm… so sorry, babybones."

"You don't have to be sorry," Frisk said quietly and held their arms close to themselves without looking at him. "I deserved it."

Sans spluttered, dropping the shampoo bottle into the water in shock.

"I - I don't - kid, what the fuck ?" he gripped their shoulders angrily, causing them to flinch. "No - no! Kiddo; babybones," Sans released his grip a little, trying to still their trembling. "You-you can't say things like that, I-I mean… Christ . Kid, nobody 'deserves' that. Nobody . Sure as HELL not you. You got that?"

Frisk didn't respond.

"… You're a good kid, Frisk."

Their shoulders began quivering again and their head bowed, and

Sans felt like his soul was being punched. He couldn't even keep his hands from shaking on their shoulders, he just wanted to hold them and tell them that everything was going to be okay. He didn't care how stupid or unlikely Undyne's plan sounded, he was going to hunt down the soulless bastards that did this and rip their throats out with his goddamn teeth.

"I'm sorry," Frisk's voice came out in a squeak as they held their face in their hands, sensing his fury. "I'm s-sorry Sans."

"… Hey. Hey," he gently held them around the head, pulling them closer, not caring anymore how much water and soap got on him. "Shh. It's okay. You're gonna be okay . Alright? C'mon. Please don't cry anymore. Shh. You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"B-b-but it's m-my fault-"

"Don't," he growled deeply, causing them to shiver despite the warmth. "I don't care what anyone told you. They're wrong ."

"I-I just…" Frisk mumbled, hiding their heated face in his arm. "… I just wanna be good, too."

"Hey. Buddy. C'mon," he tilted them weakly by the chin, forcing them to look at him. "You are good, Frisk. You're a good person. And I'm gonna keep on telling you that until you believe me."

Frisk crumbled and let out a choked little cry, burying their face against him.

They were so distraught that they couldn't even bring themselves to speak coherently. Sans couldn't really bring himself to find words, either. He certainly didn't have any pleasant ones to share, his quietly bubbling rage at the thought of someone hurting them burning his bones. He only shushed them and softly stroked their head, rocking them a little back and forth until they finally stopped crying.

Sure, they pissed him off. But they hadn't done anything wrong this timeline. Frisk didn't deserve to be hurt. Not like this. Nobody did. Especially not some kid.

They were such a good kid. He refused to admit it, but he saw a lot of his brother in them, sometimes. They had made mistakes, granted. He couldn't think of anyone that hadn't. Sans had made some regrettable mistakes in previous timelines that still haunted his nightmares. He couldn't bring himself to look that poor woman in the eye since… that. But Frisk… He was never, ever going to quite be able to bring himself to forgive them fully for the things that they had done, but even still… they were good. They were a good person. Not like him. Even though they were scared and hurt, they still trusted, they still loved. It wasn't fair that they were so much braver than he was. He couldn't wrap his mind around how anyone could possibly be so trusting as to practically lay their soul bare for-

Sans's marrow froze.

Their soul.

Their soul.

That was how he had done it.

He hadn't just located them.

He had sensed their soul .

The only feasible way that he could have possibly done that…

What was he, anymore?

He had gone far, far beyond the point of just hurting them anymore. If his theory was right, then this was worse. Definitely much, much worse. But it was only a theory. It couldn't possibly be correct. He wasn't twisted on the inside. There was nothing wrong with him . Everything was fine. The rising horror and disgust with himself was just a reaction to the thought. It was too far fetched. Humans couldn't even access their own souls. Monsters' and humans' souls simply couldn't be connected like that. It just wasn't possible.

God how he prayed it was impossible.

… I'm a fucking abomination.

"… Sans?"

"What's up, kiddo?" Sans asked, his throat feeling very dry.

"Water's r-really cold…" Frisk mumbled again. They started to rise, but he gently pressed on their shoulder until they sat back down.

"Sans?"

"Buddy," he cleared his throat after a moment, his face feeling heated. How was he supposed to breach a subject like this? Would they even know what he was talking about? Frisk was just a kid, albeit human, still a kid, and if he lingered on that thought any longer he was going to be sick. They wouldn't even understand. And even if they did, well.

At least they would finally hate him. It would simplify matters considerably.

That was what he wanted.

… Right ?

"… We need to talk."

"A-about what…?" Frisk shifted uncomfortably, looking nervous.

Their eyes were wide as they stared up at him. Openly. With love. With trust. It made him melt.

They'll never look at me like that again.

They might not look at anyone like that again.

… Frisk will never love me again.

"… You wanna go grab some grub?" he asked suddenly, draining the water and making sure they were covered with a towel. For some reason they seemed to have grown attached to Papyrus's favorite fluffy red towel. He watched the water drain slowly, his mind foggy. Maybe that's all his life was, a mess of blood and filth as he slowly circled the drain. It certainly felt that way. "I mean, don't get me wrong, leftover spaghetti again would make me… upsetti. I'm already full of spaghetti."

"So…" Frisk said after a moment, poking their head out from the towel with a little grin. "You regretti the spaghetti?"

Sans blinked before he laughed in surprise and pulled them into a hug, ruffling their damp hair.

God. How had he ever hated them?

Actually, he knew exactly how, but if he didn't think about it, then it wouldn't be a problem. That was the solution to every problem like that. Just don't think about it.

"Come on, kiddo. I think it's high time to introduce you to Grillby's."