Just Give Up

Chapter 29: Just Give Up

He was close.

He was so very, very close, he could almost taste immortality. All he had to do was bide his time, and it would all play right into his vines. Flowey giggled to himself as he burrowed through the earth, wriggling and snickering the entire way. That old fool would play right into his metaphorical hands. He almost always did. Things were finally starting to go according to plan.

This run was going to be the best one yet.

"Hey. Hey, Frisky-bits."

Frisk murmured in their sleep, rolling slightly without releasing their grip on him.

"Seriously, kiddo, you're killin' me here."

Frisk blinked sleepily and stifled a yawn, stretching their aching muscles. Sans prodded them again in the side of the head gently, rubbing their hair and grinning.

"C'mon, munchkin," he said softly. "Wake up, already."

"Wha- time is- it…?" Frisk said through their yawns.

"Early. Paps isn't up yet. C'mon, squirt. Let's go make some coffee."

Frisk slipped out from beneath their blanket and followed him like a blind man follows a seeing eye dog, and even bumped into the door frame while rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Sans couldn't help but snicker at that, patting them on the top of the head and starting up the worn old coffee pot. He gestured to the seat across from him, plopping down into the seat and filling up his mug to the brim before passing Frisk one.

"What's this for?" Frisk stifled another yawn.

"For coffee?" he blinked, pouring an unhealthy amount of sugar into his. "You have had coffee, right?"

Frisk didn't answer immediately.

"First time for everything, I guess."

Sans had to bite back a yawn of his own, taking a cautionary sip of the hot drink. Frisk tasted theirs and scrunched up their face, frowning.

"Whassa matter, buddy?"

"It tastes gross," Frisk smacked their lips, brows furrowed. "Do I have to drink it?"

"Not if you don't wanna," he shrugged. "You want somethin' else instead?"

"Hot chocolate!" they perked up immediately.

"Heh. I think I can do that."

Sans dug in the cabinets for a few moments before finding a spare package of hot chocolate, fist bumping against the liquor bottle. He stared hard at it for a moment before sighing and leaving it, carrying the packet of cocoa to the table. He then dumped the entire thing into their coffee cup, entirely straight faced.

"… Ta da," he grinned at their irritated expression. "Hot chocolate."

"Coffee and chocolate can't go together," Frisk insisted, turning the drink around and around in their hands. "It's like peas and carrots. They aren't supposed to touch."

"Pfft. If you say so, kiddo," Sans laughed. "But don't knock it 'till you try it. Give it a whirl, it's really not bad."

"It's not good, either…" Frisk sighed, but drank deeply regardless. Their thin eyebrows raised a little upon tasting it.

"See? These old bones know a thing or two," he winked slyly. "… Peas 'n carrots, huh?"

"It's a metaphor," Frisk stared into their mixed drink. "Um. Sort of. Or a simile. I don't remember."

"If you say so, buddy."

They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the quiet. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling in Sans's chest that felt so familiar, something that he couldn't quite pin down. Was it… contentment? He hadn't felt anything like it in so, so long. It was so strange, yet simultaneously so… consistent. It didn't fade away quickly like he expected it to, he just felt as if he were… okay .

How long had it been since he'd felt this way? How long had he been terrified of allowing that feeling back into his life? And it was all thanks to them. Frisk. He wasn't certain of what he wanted to tell them, although he had several ideas of what bouncing around his head, still unformed perfectly. Things he needed to tell them. But it could wait. For now, he could just be with them. He could just… be.

He was… happy .

And, of course, as it always seemed to be whenever he finally allowed himself to open up, to relax, to be free from his self inflicted internal prison of the mind, it all came crashing down a short while later.

Sans blinked sleepily when he heard a quiet knocking at the door. Frisk glanced at him worriedly, as they didn't have their disguise jacket on, but he only shook his head.

"Door's unlocked," he said loudly, taking another sip from his coffee.

Or at least he tried to, as when Asgore silently crossed the threshold, he suddenly found his coffee mysteriously draining from his mouth and running down his chin and onto the table.

This isn't happening.

You're dreaming again.

This isn't real.

It's. Not. Real.

"Sans of Snowdin Town," Asgore's familiar rumble felt as if it were shaking his bones apart. He stood tall, his horns scraping the door frame as he entered their home uninvited, his dark armor gleaming brightly and his royal raiment flapping slightly in the snowy breeze. "I hereby find you guilty of treason."

Undyne stood almost directly behind the horned monster, silently mouthing I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Sans felt lightheaded and numb, not caring that his mouth was still hanging open. This couldn't be real. Of course it wasn't real, this wasn't happening. It couldn't happen. Not yet. Not now. Not when he had finally allowed himself to feel alright again, not now. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair .

"Human," Asgore said a little more quietly, his polished armor shining in the dim light. Frisk gawked at him with fear plain on their face, but they shakily stood from their seat and tucked their hands into their sleeves. "You know what it is that we must do."

"No!" Sans sputtered, struggling to stand on shaking legs. "No, no no-!"

"Sans."

He froze at Frisk's light voice as they gently took his hand, smiling sadly up at him.

"It's… it's okay," they said softly, just loudly enough that only he would hear. "We… we both know I'll be back soon. So don't be sad. Okay?"

"Babybones," Sans felt like he was being punched in the gut, and his throat felt too tight. "You… you can't… !"

"It's going to be okay," Frisk hugged him, and he could see tears welling up in their eyes. It made his soul ache, it made his chest ache, it made him hurt . He could easily see through their facade of bravery. Or maybe it wasn't as much of a facade as he assumed. They really were a brave kid. They were going to face their certain death, and they did it with a kind smile. They were so much stronger than him, so much braver than him. Did he even stand a chance against the king himself, the strongest monster in the underground? Was there even a point to fighting back anymore? How far back would the last reset take them? Did he have time to get them to safety? Could he simply take them and Papyrus and run? How far could he really make it before they were caught?

"… Y-yeah," Sans shifted stiffly beneath Asgore's watchful gaze. "I… I'll take that at face value."

"I love you, Sans," Frisk hugged him more tightly, and he squeezed them back.

"I love you too, babybones."

Undyne stood almost behind Asgore the entire time, armored arms crossed and lips tight. She looked so… torn. Had she sold them out? Had she confessed about Frisk's existence to the king? Why would she do that? Didn't she care? Why was this happening now? Couldn't he have just a little bit more time with them?

Why was it always so damned unfair ?

"If you surrender peacefully," Asgore said quietly as he watched them. "I will take your past… assistances into account and waive this terrible action of harboring a human, for now."

"It's really okay, Sans," Frisk leaned up and kissed him on the cheek through his tears that he couldn't fight back anymore. "I'll… see you again soon."

"I know, babybones."

He knew exactly what they meant. They had no intention whatsoever of surviving their encounter with Asgore. They knew just as well as he did what would happen when the reset occurred. There was no point. No point whatsoever. He felt his resolve crumble as he collapsed in on himself, not wanting to let go as they ever so softly slipped out of his grasp and stood before the king.

"… Okay," Frisk said quietly, wiping their eyes. "I'm… I'm ready."

"Sans?" Papyrus poked his head over the upper railing, blinking sleepily in his pajamas. "What's going o-o-oh, oh, oh dear ." His face took on an ashen, gray pallor as he stared down at Asgore and Undyne, looking almost ready to fall over the railing. He appeared ready to be ill, and his grip on the railing was iron tight.

"U-Undyne…?" Papyrus choked, weak at the knees. "Your… your highness ?"

"There will be no more words," Asgore said solemnly. "I am… sorry. For this. For what we must do."

Asgore took Frisk and guided them by the shoulder, nodding silently to Undyne, who wore a stony expression. Sans did what he always did. He did what he did best.

He did nothing.

He did nothing at all.

He watched silently as Frisk was taken away. Their bright little light that had been so happy just to be there. Who was so good, was so much better than him, who wouldn't have sat in stunned silence if someone that they loved was taken away. And he did nothing.

But what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to fix this? What was he supposed to even do? They were right. He would see them again soon. After the reset. All he could do was surrender. He couldn't fight the king himself. Not him. All he could do was just give up.

They were going to die.

They were going to die, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it.

He was so tired. So empty.

He felt so damned empty.

And all he could do was watch them go.

"… S-Sans?" Papyrus started after them, looking back uncertainly, the distress plain in his voice. "Sans ! They're… snap out of it, brother, that's the king! What just happened?! He-he-he t-took Frisk, Sans, what… what do we do ?"

"Easy," Sans couldn't even bring himself to cry anymore. "Just give up. I did."

The house felt so… empty.

It was all so empty.

"What do we do?" Papyrus paced back and forth, hand held to his head. "Oh god. Oh god, what do we do, Sans?"

"There's nothing that we can do," his own voice sounded so… hollow. So drained. "We can't do anything but wait until we start over. And over. And over."

"What?" Papyrus balked at him. "Sans, this is serious ! Why was Asgore here? How did he find out? What do we do?!"

"We wait," Sans said in a tone much calmer than he felt, taking a sip of what remained of his coffee. That he had been sharing with Frisk. That maybe he would be sharing again soon just so that it could happen all over again. "That's… that's all we can do, Paps. We wait."

"Not a chance !" Papyrus slammed a gloved fist onto the table, making him jump. "I'm not going to just stand here and let them take our Frisk, I don't care if he's the king, this-this is wrong, Sans!"

"And what do you propose we do, then?" Sans asked, wiping a sleeve across his eyes. "What can we even do, Paps?"

"Simple," Papyrus threw his battle body on and donned his scarf, his eye sockets full to the brim with determination. "We go get them back."