Work Text:
“listen” Sans called as Frisk spun around to look at him, “i know you didn’t answer me before, but… somewhere in there, i can feel it,”
Frisk cocked their head as they listened. In all their attempts, this was the furthest they had made it– damn it, Sans was good.
“there’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you. a memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing.” Sans stared Frisk down, expression softening every second, “someone who, in another time, might have even been… a friend?”
Frisk didn’t know how, but that hit them—the distant memories of Sans, of the others… of the surface. Frisk tried to shake it away…
But they were so tired.
“c’mon, buddy,” Sans cocked his head to the side as tears welled in Frisk’s eyes, “do you remember me?”
They did. Of course Frisk remembered.
“please, if you’re listening… let's forget all this, ok?” Sans crouched– if only slightly– to be level with Frisk, “just lay down your weapon, and… well, my job will be a lot easier,”
For a moment, Frisk considered lunging– they had been working toward this for so long.
But then, they looked Sans in the eyes.
Everyone else was gone. Everyone Frisk had once loved, was gone.
Except Sans. Sans stood there, somehow, ready to forgive them.
Slowly, their grip on the kitchen knife weakened until it dropped, a clang echoing down the long hall.
Sans sucked in a breath, smile widening, “you’re sparing me?”
It sounded almost sarcastic– Frisk almost considered picking up the knife again, but instead, they nodded.
“finally. buddy. pal,” Sans took a step forward, causing Frisk to flinch at the movement, but he kept going, “i know how hard it must be, to make that choice,”
As Sans kept moving forward, Frisk relaxed. Any malice in his voice was lost on Frisk.
They were just… so tired.
“to go back on everything you’ve worked up to,” That time, Frisk heard it, but elected to ignore it, “i want you to know i won’t let it go to waste,”
Sans stopped only feet away from Frisk, looking down slightly to look them in the eyes, before opening his arms, “c’mere, pal,”
For a moment, Frisk stared in disbelief, tears streaming down their face. When the moment was over, they let themself fall into his arms.
As they did so, a circle of bones shot up from under them– too quickly to dodge.
That bastard.
“geeeeeeet dunked on!!!” Sans shouted as Frisk collapsed into him. The joy immediately faltered, though, as Frisk’s blood pooled beneath them.
He stood there for a moment, feeling Frisk’s breath begin to leave them.
For a moment, he was actually holding them.
“if we’re really friends, you won’t come back” Sans whispered, holding a limp Frisk in his arms.
He heard a weak chuckle in response– despite everything, those bones still hurt like hell.
“I will” was the last thing Frisk managed as their eyes drifted shut and they heard those familiar words of encouragement in their subconscious.
It had been a long time since Frisk first stepped foot in the “Last Corridor” or “Judgment Hall” or whatever other clever names they had come up with. Sans was tougher than any enemy Frisk had come across yet– even Undyne had never been this challenging, and she took them a while to get past, even when they weren’t trying to kill her.
If someone told Frisk when they first started on this path that Sans the Skeleton would be their most formidable enemy yet, they would have laughed at you– but here they were. They had stopped counting how many times they had died ages ago, and it felt like years since Sans had stopped counting.
They pressed on, reappearing near the doorway, a glimmer of light with no clear source on the ground before them. As they stepped forward Sans, of course, looked the same– no memory of what had happened, but the knowledge that it had happened anyway.
Frisk looked to the ground as they prepared themselves for the usual– a quick “let's get this over with,” before Sans threw them to the floor, launching into his “strongest attack”.
This time, however, Sans cocked his head, “heya.”
Frisk’s head shot up– Sans hadn’t greeted them in a while
“no point in the spiel, right? you’ve heard it before?”
Frisk only nodded as they observed Sans intently– this was different. Frisk hadn’t had different in a while.
“been at this for a while, huh? how many times have I gotten ya’, i can’t tell,”
Frisk’s gaze narrowed– Sans was just standing there. He hadn’t attacked yet, his hand hadn’t even left his pocket. He looked relaxed. Frisk briefly wondered how easy it would be to rush him.
“A few times,” they finally responded, gripping the knife tighter.
Sans let out a breath of a laugh, “just a few, huh?” he asked, eye finally flashing blue, then yellow, then going out entirely, “looks like a bit more,”
He had finally made a move, engaged the combat, but it was still different. Frisk felt that usual grip on their soul, but Sans made no move to drop them– he was just… holding them.
After a beat of silence, of waiting, of preparation, Frisk looked back to Sans, eyebrows furrowed.
Sans’ gaze narrowed as well– Frisk swore they saw his smile widen, “what, you look confused,”
When Frisk didn’t respond, Sans threw a halfhearted attack– a few bones running across the ground for Frisk to jump over. If anything, it looked more like something Papyrus had thrown at them before than anything Sans had used. In response, Frisk lunged forward, knife swinging. Sans, as expected, jumped out of the way before getting ahold of Frisk again, holding them in place as he prepared to take his “turn”.
There was another beat of silence before Sans attacked again. This was different, he wasn’t saying anything– or at least, he wasn’t saying anything normal. It was like he was waiting for something, throwing the easiest attacks Frisk had seen since Hotland. When Frisk said nothing, Sans threw another attack– the same as before, only with a blue bone mixed in.
This continued for another few attacks– halfhearted bone attack, Frisk swinging, Sans dodging, moment of silence, repeat. Hell, there wasn’t even a Gaster Blaster in sight.
This was wrong– had Frisk somehow engaged easy mode?
“What are you doing?” Frisk finally asked, half yelling in frustration as Sans threw another few bones their way.
“what am i doing?” Sans responded, teleporting out of the way of Frisk’s swing. He still looked as calm as ever– then again, that was normal.
“This is different– you’re different!” Frisk shouted, gesturing wildly with their knife, still rooted to the spot with blue magic, “Not just your dialogue, your attacks too! I’ve never seen your attacks change!”
“woah, dialogue?” Sans laughed, throwing a wall of bones Frisk’s way– it wasn’t anywhere near normal, but it seemed like he was finally ramping up the difficulty a bit, “you really don’t see us as people anymore, do ya’?”
Frisk only lunged in response, narrowly dodging the bone wall as Sans once again disappeared. Frisk let out a shout as they stopped in their tracks, turning to find Sans only feet behind them.
“Why are you different?” Frisk yelled again, feeling the exhaustion in their soul.
“how am i supposed to know what to do if i don’t know what i did before?” Sans asked, throwing another attack, “am i that predictable?”
Frisk let out a frustrated sigh, “Usually!” They shouted as Sans dodged another swing.
Frisk felt the grip on their soul tighten as Sans pushed them to the ground, rendering them immobile– but no attack came.
“but i’m different now?” Sans asked as Frisk whipped their head around to watch him, “how?”
Frisk allowed themselves to catch their breath, hand gripping their knife, “You’re being weird,”
“who says i’m the weird one?” Sans asked as Frisk threw themselves at him, narrowly dodging their attack, “you’re the murderer here,”
Frisk rolled out of the way as Sans threw another bone their way– he wasn’t even trying. Frisk only scowled at him.
“no seriously,” Sans continued, “if i do the same thing every time, that makes you the independent variable here. whatever changed is up to you,”
“What are you talking about?” Frisk spit as they rushed him again– Sans, naturally, stepped just out of the way.
“c’mon kid, look at yourself,” Sans answered, once again rooting Frisk’s soul to the spot, “i’ve been watching you like a hawk since you left snowdin, you know that,” Frisk saw Sans’ gaze turn cold as he mentioned Snowdin, “now i dunno what the other sans-es saw, but sometime since you left the core, since i stopped watching, you got real tired,”
Frisk only glared as they waited for Sans to continue.
“i’m sure that's my fault, i wore you out,” Sans chuckled at the thought, “but somethin’s off. your exp, your LOVE, it’s all still there… but i think somethin’ in you’s changed since last time,”
Frisk’s gaze narrowed, “You saying I’m not a threat anymore?”
Sans shrugged at the suggestion, “maybe, maybe not…” His eye flashed as he shot a few bones Frisk’s way. They were too caught off guard to dodge, taking a not-insignificant amount of damage, “i haven’t decided yet,”
Frisk scowled as they attacked again, missing Sans by a mile. They went back and forth for a few minutes, neither making any ground– after all, Sans was barely trying. At this point, this was the longest Frisk had lasted in combat with him.
“say, i’ve got a proposition for ya’,” Sans started as he dodged another attack, reaching out to get a hold of Frisk’s soul, “we can keep doin’ this, going back and forth, and i’ll eventually kill ya” he dropped Frisk to the floor– not enough to do damage, just enough to sting, “you’ll reset, having learned nothing, and i’ll either go back to what i was doin’ before, or i’ll keep doin’ this and you’ll have some new attacks to learn,”
“Thats your proposition?” Frisk spat as they glared up at Sans from their spot on the floor.
“or,” Sans continued, “you can chill out a bit and talk to me. have a little chat,” he smiled a little wider, “i’ll probably still end up killing ya’, but you’ll come out of this reset a little wiser. we’ll call it our break,”
Frisk only glared, gripping the knife as if their life depended on it until Sans released his hold on their soul. Seemed like he gave up his turn.
Frisk, once again, lunged, and Sans, once again, dodged– responding by grabbing their soul once again, throwing them to the ground, and only a moment later covering the ground with bones.
Frisk knew that attack but still took the damage. Sans was throwing them off.
“that really how you wanna play?” Sans asked as he dodged another swing, “fine, i can talk and fight,”
“I know you can,” Frisk mumbled, but Sans heard anyway.
He chuckled in response, “oh yeah? what do i usually talk about?”
“I dunno,” Frisk replied, panting as they dodged a series of bones shooting at them, “timelines, anomalies, resets,”
“ah, the boring stuff,” Sans replied as he teleported away from Frisk’s blade. Frisk only giggled in response.
This fight had been fun at first, learning all of Sans’ attacks– but after the fifteenth time, it was getting tedious.
This felt like it might be getting fun again.
“you’ve been at this for a while, haven’t you?” Sans asked, and when he received nothing but another attack in response, he continued, “how old are you anyway?”
Frisk ducked away from a shot from a Gaster Blaster before responding, “Ten and a half, you?”
“you haven’t figured that out yet?” Sans asked as he jumped away from another attack.
“You’re not exactly an open book,”
Sans laughed in response, throwing out another attack, “a skeleton never reveals his age," He grinned as he continued, "ten, huh? i remember when my brother was ten, he certainly never acted like you,”
Frisk furrowed their brows as they caught their breath, “I’ve been ten and a half for a while, I guess,”
“oh, so you’re like twilight?” Sans laughed as he asked.
“I’m not a vampire,”
Sans fired another series of attacks as he responded, “coulda fooled me, freak,” then, after dodging Frisk's attack, he continued, “so if you’ve been at this for so long, you ever tried anything different?”
Rather than attacking again, Frisk paused to respond, “What do you mean?”
“ah, you know, not killin’ people, for example,”
Frisk drew in a sharp breath, eyes darting to the floor. Sans only watched– it was his turn. He should have been attacking, but rather, he watched.
A quiet “Yeah” was all that Frisk could muster.
“how many times?” Sans asked, throwing a single, tiny bone Frisk’s way. They stepped out of the way.
He wasn’t trying anymore.
“How many times did I… go through the underground?” Frisk clarified, earning a sharp nod from Sans, “A lot,”
“peacefully?”
“Mostly,”
Sans stared at Frisk for another moment.
They weren’t attacking.
“were we friends?”
Frisk stared for a second too long before repeating, “Mostly.”
They spent a while like that, just standing and staring, neither particularly interested in initiating more combat.
“were we really?”
Frisk felt that familiar feeling of tears in their throat once again– those tears from the last reset.
“if we’re really friends, you won’t come back,”
“Yes,”
Sans only let out a huff at that, an acknowledgment, if not an agreement. “and didja ever get out? of the underground?”
Frisk couldn’t help but smile at that, they were almost proud, “Every time!”
“what about us?” There was a certain sadness in Sans’ eyes, as if he didn’t really want the answer, “we ever get out too?”
“A few times, yeah,” If it weren’t for the deep guilt, they would be proud of that, too.
It was as if Sans wasn’t expecting that answer, sockets widening, “really?” he tried to stay nonchalant in his response, but Frisk heard the twinge of… something behind his words.
“Yeah,” Frisk allowed themselves a small smile, as if attempting comfort.
“why didn’t ya stick with that then?” Sans’ eyes narrowed as he stared Frisk down, “why’d ya have to come back and do… this,” He gestured around him, Frisk got the point.
Frisk stared for a moment, fidgeting with the blade of the knife in their hands, “There are a few answers to that,” They paused, taking in Sans’ unchanging expression, “All of them selfish,”
Sans cracked a smile, “hit me,”
Frisk let out a small laugh as they replied, “Pretty sure you don’t want me to do that,”
Sans huffed out a laugh, “you know what i mean, pal,”
Frisk took a breath, “Well, first, it’s not like there's much waiting for me up there,” They looked down at their reflection in the flawless blade– not yet used, “the monsters underground were the closest I ever got to having a family who… cared, I guess,”
Frisk looked up to find Sans staring– they could tell he had a joke on the tip of his tongue, but he kept it to himself for the time being, “Also can’t reset up there, only down here,”
Sans let out a hum of acknowledgment as Frisk spoke.
“I also, uhh,” Frisk looked back to the blade– a small bead of blood had made its way to the tip. Frisk had been baring down on it too hard and was too distracted to really feel it. They absentmindedly wiped the blade, licking the blood off their finger and nursing the puncture wound, “I felt like there was more to learn down here– I hadn’t found everything,”
“so that’s what you’re doin’ now,” Sans replied with a sigh, "findin' everything,"
“I guess so, yeah,”
They stood like that for a while, longer than either of them realized, before Frisk spoke up again, “It took me a few tries, you know,”
“what did?” Sans asked, browbone furrowing.
“Breaking the barrier, freeing you. It took me a few tries– wasn’t exactly easy,”
“yeah?” Sans confirmed, “what about the first time?”
“The first time?”
“first time you fell. there had to have been a first time, right?”
Frisk sucked in a breath as they realized what he was asking.
Their first time. It had been so long since they first fell, it was almost fuzzy.
Almost.
“Yeah,” Frisk nodded, “there was a first time,”
“well, what was that like?” Sans cocked his head to the side as he waited for a response.
“It was… weird,” Frisk finally responded. The answer didn’t seem to be enough for Sans, though, so they continued, “I was kind, or at least I tried to be. I was scared, you know,”
“i bet,” Sans replied, urging them to continue.
“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But Toriel, the woman behind the door,” Frisk felt those tears begin to well up again, pricking at the corners of their eyes, “she wanted me to prove I was strong enough, to fight her,”
Frisk wiped a tear from their eye as they spoke– they hadn’t thought about this in so long.
They had killed her countless times– what was wrong now?
“I was young, I was just a kid, and I…” They took another breath, “I killed her. I didn’t mean to,” They rambled, more tears following the first as they furiously tried to wipe them all away, “I didn’t hurt anyone else, I promise– except Asgore, he made me,” A sob found its way out of their throat as they tried to finish, but failed.
Sans looked… surprised, to say the least. Taken aback as the child who had moments before been trying to kill him sobbed in front of him, knees buckling as they threatened to topple over. He wasn’t sure what to do– emotions had never been his strong point, and this was a whole new rodeo– so he chose just to watch as Frisk sputtered through sobs.
“I-I… I got out and,” Frisk took a stuttering breath, “and you called me but I knew something was wrong and I could do– do better, so I went back,” They refused to look at him as the knife once again clattered to the floor, “and I tried, and I was better, and it took me a while but I did it, I got– I got you out, I got everyone out,” \
Frisk finally paused, staring up into Sans’ eyes. He was unreadable, completely blank– eye sockets dark and smile plastered.
That was all Frisk needed to dissolve into a sobbing mess. They had no clue when, but they ended up on the ground, on their knees, as if in prayer as they cried. At some point, they began to beg for forgiveness, even if they knew they deserved nothing.
Sans took a step forward, sending Frisk into even more of a panicked fit.
This was a sight Sans was somewhat familiar with– somehow, in the last minute, the child in front of him became just that: a child. A child who, in another life, another time, might have really been a friend. He’d seen a child cry before, and he would have given anything to see him cry again if it meant he could comfort him one last time.
That was all this kid's fault, but maybe it didn’t have to be anymore.
He continued forward as Frisk sobbed, mixing apologies with pleads for mercy.
It would have been so easy to kill them right there, but something told him that wouldn’t have been quite effective.
Instead, he kneeled in front of Frisk, bringing a hand up to rest on their shoulder. They stared at him through waves of tears, “hey, you’re still just a kid,”
The confusion was evident in their eyes, even if they couldn’t properly respond.
“you said you were just a kid back then, in the beginning,” he continued, “well you still are! you may have seen some shit, but that doesn’t make you grown. believe me, i know,”
So he was still at it with the cryptic bullshit.
“point is, you’ve still got time. give it to yourself– give it to us,”
Frisk only stared as their tears began to slow, time growing between sobs.
“you’ve got the potential to be a good kid, i can tell,” Sans winked, smile growing, “why don’t you give it another shot?”
A smile found its way to Frisk’s face as they looked up at him before throwing themselves into his arms.
Sans froze for a moment, only a moment, before wrapping them in his arms, allowing them to sink their full weight into him.
“shhh, it’s okay,” he comforted as they cried on his shoulder, “it’ll all be okay,”
He rubbed their back, old muscle memory reactivating– he missed this. He hoped he would never have to again.
For a moment, everything was okay.
For a moment, until a bone found its way into Frisk’s ribcage.
They gasped for air as blood found its way into their mouth.
“Bastard,” they managed, going limp in Sans’ arms.
Sans chuckled, the saddest sound Frisk had heard in a while, “do me a favor, kid,” He continued to rub circles in their back, feeling their chest heave as their body tried to hold on, “don’t come back here, alright?”
Frisk laughed once again, digging their nails into Sans’ hoodie, managing one final, “I will,” before their world went dark, their body done fighting.
Sans held them for just a moment longer before waking up, as if from a bad dream, on his mattress to the sound of his dear brother on the other side of his door.
And Frisk woke up on that bed of flowers once more.
They kept their promise and came back, only under far different circumstances. When they met Sans in that final hallway– the “Last Corridor” or “Judgement Hall” or whatever other silly names they had come up with– there was a pep in their step and a certain brightness in Sans’ eyes.
He began to speak, to do his speech, to talk about EXP and LV and LOVE and love.
But he stopped, “huh, that look in your eye, you’ve heard my spiel before, haven’t you?”
Frisk’s eyes widened as they opened their mouth to speak, but found nothing, electing to give a small nod instead.
“well, if you already know what i’m gonna say, not much point in boring you with it,” Sans shrugged, “you did good, kid– we’re all counting on you. good luck,”
He stepped aside, into the shadows, as if to disappear.
Before he could, though, Frisk spoke up– “Wait!”
He perked up, turning back to Frisk, browbone raised.
“You really…” Frisk stared at him, searching his features, finding nothing, “You really don’t remember? There’s no part of you that remembers?”
Sans cocked his head to the side, “remembers what? you do somethin’?”
Frisk took a breath before looking away, “Nevermind, it’s– just, nevermind,”
Sans shrugged, preparing himself to disappear again before Frisk stopped him again.
“Sans?”
“yeah, kid?” Sans sighed as he turned to face them once again.
Frisk stared at him, as if debating in their head before they spoke.
“Can I have a hug?”
They looked scared, but the response was second nature to Sans– years of Papyrus will do that to a man. He opened his arms with a “‘course you can” as Frisk fell into him.
They leaned into him as he rubbed circles on their back.
They tensed up, preparing themselves for the bone in their back.
But nothing came.
They stood there for a while– far longer than either of them realized– before Sans spoke up again, “maybe there is part of me that remembers,”
Frisk jolted up, just far enough away to look at Sans.
“maybe there’s not. who knows, i certainly don’t,” Frisk visibly relaxed, pulling away from Sans entirely.
“whichever it is, it isn’t important,” He smiled a little wider, and Frisk did the same in return, “what is important is you gettin’ out of here– gettin’ us out of here,”
Frisk moved out of his arms, sighing as they took a step down the hallway.
Sans let them go, watching them leave rather than disappearing as planned.
Before they could make it out the door, he took his turn stopping them.
“hey, kid,”
Frisk turned, no frustration left in their eyes– pure kindness and curiosity.
“do me a favor?”
They only nodded.
“make this the last time, ok?”
He winked before disappearing, leaving before he could see their reaction.
They only smiled– whispering one final “I will,” before disappearing into the throne room.