"No…"

'No' was right. As soon as she stepped into the spacious, window-lit corridor, she could feel a deadly chill of terror radiating from the captive presence held inside her. It brought a smile to her borrowed face. The knife gleamed in her dusty hand as she staggered forward, one footfall at a time, her bloodshot eyes locked upon a dark silhouette. She had been looking forward to this one.

"Don't you dare…"

Oh, yes. Beg. Suffer in helplessness, you pathetic weakling. Plead. That's the only thing you're good at, anyway. But begging wouldn't do that stupid kid a bit of good now. She was going to kill this obnoxious, nosy idiot who seemed to stand in her way at every turn. Always pretending he knew everything, or that he could stop her. Bullshit. She was much more powerful than he could ever even think of being. She recognized forces that towered above his entire world. He didn't know shit.

"Chara, NO!"

Frisk was screaming within her soul, pounding on the glass of Chara's eyes. It was time to destroy what was left of that pathetic little girl. Time to steal away that determination and keep it for herself. By the end of all this… Chara would have her own soul again.

All she had to do was kill one lazy moron. Shouldn't be hard. The dumbass only had one HP.

Sans stood in the center of the corridor. The dusky orange light played with shadows around them, stretching out the shadows of marble columns, casting a black silhouette of the royal crest onto the floor between them. He was grinning. So was she.

"Heya."

"Sans!"

Chara gripped the knife and raised her head. Grey tinted the skin beneath her wide eyes, and a smile twitched in one corner of her mouth.

"You've been busy, huh?"

Chara didn't answer. She let him go through the spiel, knowing that every word would be worthless in the end. It was nothing. Sans was nothing. What would he do if you said this? What would he say if you did that? Once you know…that's it. That's all they are. So Chara listened. She wanted Frisk to know what did and didn't matter in this world.

Sans stared at the face of the child he'd protected, the friend he'd laughed with, and saw none of that now. There was no trace of that innocent smile that had restored his hope, made him believe that things could be alright one day. Everything good in the child had vanished. After everything they'd all done for her… she reset. She saved them all, gave them love and comfort and a future…then took it back. Killed them all. And now, she stood there ready to do the same to him, and didn't show any sign that she gave a single flying fuck. The grin on his face grew dark. Maybe it always had been.

"So. I've got a question for ya. Do you think even the worst person can change…? That everybody can be a good person, if they just try?" His voice was nothing like it used to be. It was low, steady, emotionless…it was cold as ice.

Chara took one step forward. Deep in his throat, Sans began to chuckle darkly, shaking his head. Inside the pockets of his jacket, his hands curled into trembling fists.

"S…Sans… I'm sorry… P-Papyrus—I didn't want to, I tried not to… I—"

Sans tapered off his laughter with a deep breath and a resigned, "Alright." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, here's a better question." Lowering his head, Sans closed his eyes. When he again opened them, glaring up at her, his eye sockets were completely hollow. His voice shook with fury as it growled, "Do you wanna have a bad time?"

Chara stepped forward.

Sans twitched, despite his calm outward appearance. "Welp." He felt his teeth grinding together. He'd forgotten what it was like to feel…angry. If nothing else, it was a great motivator. "Sorry, old lady…" he muttered, glowering at the evil, traitorous scum that stood before him. "This is why I never make promises."

Chara's face lit up like an explosion, her grin stretching out her cracked lips as shudders of delight crawled up her back.

"No! You will NOT do this!"

Watch me, bitch.

Sans closed his eyes, his head tilting back as he released a slow, steady breath. "It's a beautiful day," he said. "Birds are chirping…flowers are blooming." He chuckled lowly, his eyes slowly drifting open to reveal one glowing blue spark in his socket. "On days like this, kids like you…"

Chara's breath came in short, ecstatic bursts. She clutched her knife to her heart, hanging on his every word.

"Should be burning in hell."

He swiped a claw-like hand toward her and she was blasted back with a blue light. Her body became heavy and everything she saw was through a dark blue tint. Half a second later, a torrent of bones came toward her like the waves of the sea, tossing her back and forth relentlessly. As soon as she threw her body off the ground and back on its feet, she stared down the open jaws of four wolf-like skulls that hung in the air around Sans's head. A flash of white assaulted her, and after half a second of inferno, she was able to roll out of the blast. Without a second to spare, more blasters appeared and Chara rolled again, clipped by the blast. Just when she thought she was clear, two skulls larger than the others materialized, and at a snap of Sans's fingers, roared their burning white light towards her.

When it was over, Chara was left crouching at his feet, rivulets of blue smoke trailing down from her body and pooling on the ground. The scent of scorched blood filled the air.

"Always wondered why nobody ever uses their strongest attack first."

Seconds ticked by, nothing but her raspy, cracked laughter filling the space between them. Finally…her turn. Chara's head snapped up, eyes brimming with pain and joy, and then she launched herself forward. Hair and blood flying from her face, she swiped the knife at his chest, but cut through nothing but air. She staggered forward, her movements like a twitching puppet as she turned to face him again. The joy was gone. There was only anger in her face.

"What?" He shrugged, hands up. "Didja expect me to stand there and take it?"

"Sans…no—not you…"

Chara's hand twitched, then seemed to relax its grip on the knife. Frisk was trying to take control. How adorable. With a sharp twist of her wrist, Chara pointed the knife back to its target. This soul was hers—it had been hers in the first place. This body obeyed her. Because she was strong. Because she knew what power was. Because she wasn't afraid.

"Don't take him, Chara, don't—"

She swung, and swung, and swung, and sweat beaded on Sans's face, and with every dodge his movements slowed.

"Chara, no! Chara! Stop it, Chara, please!"

Never. Never. It wouldn't be long now…he couldn't keep this up. She knew. He was too weak. Too tired. He couldn't handle it like she could.

"Don't—don't hurt him, don't…please…p-please, no…" Of course the little shit was crying in there. For fuck's sake, Frisk. Why are you so weak!?

Chara screamed with outrage as she leapt forward again, flying through the maze of attacks. Gaster blasters appeared in the air to stare her down with eyes of judgment, opening their fanged maws to obliterate her. She smiled. She charged toward them. As each one fired, she leapt aside, her quick feet barely touching the ground. She wove through them all and laughed triumphantly as she reached Sans, gripping the knife in both hands above her head.

"STOP IT NOW!"

Chara used her stolen voice in a way that it should never have spoken. "D i e ."

She brought the knife down. Sans blinked out of the space he was in, reappearing a few feet away, and suddenly a barrage of bones came flying toward her.

"Sans, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry…"

Chara leapt aside, but in the next instant, suddenly found herself repositioned, along with the attack she'd meant to avoid, and she ran straight into it. Fury tinted the smile on her face.

"Do it, Sans, kill us—you have to kill us—"

Shut. The fuck. Up. Frisk. Shut up. Stay out of this. You can't do anything! Just sit in your corner of hell and watch me do what I want.

"…No."

Chara froze. Nothing…nothing was moving. She told her arm to raise the knife, but it wouldn't work. She couldn't move. Her body wasn't listening to her. Frisk...just what the hell do you think you're doing?

Sweat trailed down Sans's face and soaked the collar of his jacket. He panted, each breath growled out and wearily drawn in. He hadn't done anything like that in a long time. It was taking its toll… I mean, it always did, even when he was doing nothing but standing around. Now, using the full extent of his powers, it was almost more than his body could take.

"You…uh...really like swinging that thing around, huh?" he rasped, his fist knotted in the fabric of his jacket over his chest. He didn't get it. Why. Why the fuck was Frisk doing this to them? What happened? It's like she wasn't even the same person. He could still remember that little smiling face beaming up at him on the mountaintop, shining brighter than the sunrise. What happened to that, huh?

Chara stood like a statue, her face drained of anything but shock. Why couldn't she move? What was that little fucker doing in there? How! How was Frisk making her stop!?

"Determination."

FUCK YOU. I'm determined. That soul is mine; you fucking stole it. That's MY determination. You thief, coward, waste of fucking space! It's mine! Give it back!

Sans felt his legs shaking. This was rough—so damn rough. He hadn't done anything close to this in years. He had never in his life intended to call up his old buddy like that… Back then, he'd told himself that as long as he lived, he wasn't ever gonna use Gaster blaster. Nah, that guy was long gone. Like Frisk.

"S…S-sa…"

His eyes snapped open. What. What did she say? S…what? Sans? But she was just standing there, same as before, frustration and confusion warring in her crazy-ass maniac face. Maybe that was it. Maybe Frisk was a nutcase all along—just straight up mentally fucked—and the strain of repeatedly dying snapped her. I mean, damn. The timelines weren't exactly doin wonders for his mental health either, that's for damned sure.

But he could have sworn on everything he gave a shit about that he'd just heard her try to say his name.

"Listen…" he sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "I know you didn't answer me before, but…somewhere in there, I can feel it." That's how Frisk saved him from Asriel, wasn't it? She'd felt his soul somewhere in there and called to it. And now, if he tried really fuckin hard, he thought he felt hers too. It was tortured. Dying. Desperate. It was barely a soul anymore.

"Sans!"

He smiled. "There. Right there it is. There's the little sucker," he said, pointing at her. "There's a glimmer of a good person in you. Someone who…in another time, might have been…a friend?"

Chara's body convulsed with the effort it took to suppress her prisoner.

Yeah. Whatever he was doing, it was working. "C'mon, buddy…" he pleaded shakily, almost buying into his own act. No, no—it was an act. He was buying time. That's all it was. That's all… "Do you remember me?" Just buying time. The Frisk he knew wasn't there. Frisk wasn't coming back.

"Sa…n…s"

No! Get back in there, you worm! You're nothing! This is mine—IT'S MINE! Get back!

Sans reached out his hand toward her. "Please…if you're listening…let's forget all this, ok?"

"Sans…I'm trying, I promise, I'm listening! I'm here! Sans!"

"Just…lay down your weapon, and…" Just a trick. Wasn't gonna work. "Well, my job will be a lot easier." That's right. His job—his job of stopping this fucker from destroying the known world. She murdered his brother. She murdered everyone he ever gave a damn about. She did it for nothing.

Sans took in a shuddering breath, his hand beginning to faintly glow with a dull blue light. "C'mon, kid. You can do this. I'm…I'm rootin for ya."

"…Sans…I—"

Chara attacked.

That's what he'd been waiting for. With a wide grin, his blue eye blazed to life, and his hand glowed bright. "Geeeet dunked on!"

He expected her to dodge, so he hit with every attack he had been storing up over the past few minutes. She did not. She took that step toward him, shining knife raised, and then froze again in her tracks. Too bad. Too damn bad, kid. Too fuckin late. With the only scowl he'd ever worn dark across his face, his eye socket glowing blue and green, Sans snapped the fingers on his outstretched hand and launched the barrage of jagged bone spears and blasters.

And just a split second before he did, he caught a glance at her face. It was smiling… and the smile looked nothing like it had when she was attacking him. It was thankful…it was anguished…

It was Frisk.

The child was thrown to the ground and relentlessly battered, blasted across the floor, thrown against pillars. She was impaled, burned, broken—just absolutely wrecked in the space of seconds. He had no way to stop it. He watched it all unfold, watched blood and flecks of bone spray across the floor. It felt like an eternity before her small, battered body came to rest up against one of the pillars. She lay there absolutely still.

Outside, the birds had gone silent.

A hoarse demand crept into the eerie quiet. "...Kid."

Silence.

"Frisk."

Nothing. No. He'd imagined it. She wasn't going to answer anyway—he'd fucking annihilated her. No. It was impossible. The merciful child he'd known was long gone before she ever stepped into this hall. It wasn't her. Not anymore. He turned his back to the grisly scene. He cut off his thoughts. He slowly began to drag his feet across the king's marble floor.

"I'm... sorry..."

Ah, no.

Sans froze solid. He turned, as slowly as he possibly could—he didn't want to see whatever figment of his wrecked mind had spoken those words. What he saw was far worse…because it was real.

"S…sans."

Ah, fuck no.

Her head turned. The blood-soaked hair obscuring her face fell gently away. Frisk's gentle, loving smile adorned her bright red lips.

"Th…ank…you."

He didn't have time to run. He blinked and was there at her side in the next half a second. His shaking hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her into his lap as she whimpered in pain. "Frisk," he wheezed. "Frisk? Seriously, kid, is that you?"

She struggled to speak. She was barely alive. It was some kind of miracle she could be awake at all. "I'm here…"

"Frisk…" he grinned, shaking his head as bright blue tears pooled in his sockets. "Wh-where'd ya go, sunshine?"

Tears spilled from her eyes, cutting tracks through the blood. "I-I tried…to stop her…" Frisk's voice was weak and strangled with blood. She coughed and a line of red droplets sprayed across his face.

"Y-you…what!?" What the hell did that mean? She was being controlled? Someone else made her do it? It wasn't her fault…and he killed her. Sans could feel everything that kept him alive shattering. Every piece of his heart throbbed with agony. He killed an innocent child… He murdered Frisk.

"I'm sorry," she cried, her hand weakly reaching up to grasp his jacket. He immediately closed her tiny hand in his, trying not to grip too hard. Trying not to cause her any more pain than he already had.

"Frisk, I… I didn't, I mean—it was… I-I thought you—"

"Don't…hate me…"

Please. Please, for the love of—stop it. Stop this. Reset, please, someone just put this shit back where it started. Take it back to the very beginning. Erase this nightmare.

"Frisk," he choked, his whole body shaking. "Frisk, I'm sorry…fuck, I'm so sorry. G-Go back. Jus' go back, put it back an' start over. Can ya? Frisk?"

"Sans," she whispered, nuzzling her face into his arm. "I love all of you. I-I promise…"

Oh, fuck—jus' dammit—why… "H-hey…don't worry, sweet'eart—the feelin's mutual. We know, Frisk. We know ya do. We all love ya, kid, I swear. Ok? Y-Ya got that?"

Frisk's eyes had drifted closed. He could no longer hear her rasped attempts at breathing. The hand that he held was no longer gripping back. Sans froze solid.

"Kid. Kid. Wake up. Wake the fuck up. Frisk? I'm not gonna deal with this bullshit alright just wake up. Jus—just wake—wake up!"

She refused. Sans stared at her limp, broken body, the silence roaring around him. She wouldn't wake up. She just…she was…

"F-fuck's sake, Frisk!" With that scream, he snatched her body into his arms, her head buried in his neck, his face hidden in her blood-matted hair. He rocked back and forth, groaning and choking as sobs racked him mercilessly. He begged for a reset. He didn't care who did it… but this couldn't be it. An ending like this was going to destroy him. It already had.

Sans clutched the fallen human and begged for it all to end, waiting for that black void to wash over the world. Finally, he felt the darkness creeping in on the fringes of his world. Yes. Thank fuck for that. He pried his eyes open to stare at Frisk's face, wiping the blood from her cheek with his jacket. He gasped for breath enough to whisper, "C'mon, Frisk…you can still save it."

He rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes, as the world around them faded into an empty, endless black.

"Please… don't let this one come back."