“let’s go,” Sans says.
The dinosaurs mouth is opening, light whirling and deepening, electrifying everything with static as it gathers magic. It’s going to attack, you have to dodge, you have to—ppwwweeeeEEHHH BWOOOOONNNNNNN!!!!!—At light speed, his weapon blasts directly at you. But it doesn’t make contact.
Reality returns a split second later— your back is against one of the pillars, knife still in hand, your abdomen glowing red. Gasp for breath and stroke your stomach with your freehand. Smile as you feel the baby kick.
“whadda fuck?” Sans’s voice echoes behind you, “how did you? … whatever.”
Your soul feels like it’s being crushed as he takes ahold of it and uses it to yank you from your hiding spot. Stumble, but manage to stay on your feet, bare toes flaring out to stabilize yourself against his weakened pull. The movement rips your soul from your body, and it hovers in front of your sternum where you can clearly see the white tendrils almost completely covering it. There’s just a top of exposed purple left. As soon as it’s covered, you’ll give birth, you know it. So soon…
Sans stands 20 feet away, left arm extended to hold your soul, his right rising, the same dinosaur skull appearing out of thin air behind it. His arm lifts, it’s mouth opens, orange light billowing. Throws his arm down and the skull coughs out a puny ray of light, it’s eyes rolling around in it’s head. Then it disappears, just fading until it’s gone.
“mutherfucker,” the skeleton snarls, his eyes moving to your stomach, “that fuckin’ kid has all my magic.” His hold on you releases and he reaches to roll up the sleeves of his jacket. “just haveta do this tha ol’ fashioned way.”
* You feel like you’re going to have a bad time.
Sans made his choice. It’s your turn now. Time to make yours.
Author's Note: You have just played a pacifist run in the realm of Underfell. Sans has determined that you deserve death. But you are not helpless. You have a choice to make. Remember, you only have one life. There are no resets. Whatever you choose will be your canon ending. Good luck.
You have do it. You know he’s going to kill you.
You’ll just have to kill him first.
Bound towards him, arm outstretched, swinging the knife wildly and slashing at— thin air. Sans side steps without even moving his feet, then moves back into place as his grip on your soul jerks you back to your original position. Your soul saturates with red from his magic activating. “heh heh, what,” he shrugs one shoulder and winks, “didya really think it’d be that easy?”
Columns of elongated femur bones appear off the screen and attempt to sandwich you. Leap and duck around them, surprisingly light on your feet, almost like you’re weightless. When his attack ends, you’re sweaty, it’s so humid, it’s raining so hard. Thunder echoes loudly. There’s pain in your uterus as it responds to the sudden exercise. Launch forward to attack. Again, he steps away, and you miss.
“y’know, i should’ve seen this comin’,” he muses with intense eye contact, “our reports showed nothin’, not a damn thing. ain’t even on tha timespace continuum. this timeline was defective tha moment you created it.”
“Shut up,” you bark, rotating your wrist to feel the weight of your weapon as you maintain a stance similar to that of a boxer in the ring.
His turn to attack; more waves of bones. Jump over the first, the second is red, too tall to jump over, following you as you try to step out of it’s path. It hits you, going straight through your body like a ghost, IT HURTS! Who knows what kind of damage that did. More are coming, jump, then something internal tells you to hold still. The next red bone passes through you harmlessly. What? Jump, don’t move, the red bone doesn’t harm you as it goes by. Okay… red means stop.
All you need is one good hit. Run at him and swipe horizontally, but again, you miss. Fuck! Sans faces you and gives you a gloomy look. “i just want it all ta end, (your name).” Lightning blares through the windows, followed by a boom of thunder, sending intense vibrations through the hall.
“Shut up!!” you repeat. You’re so sick of this, this of this place, sick of him, sick of his rasped, leathery voice saying your name. You have to kill him, you have to. Keep going, (your name). He can’t dodge forever.
Another onslaught of bones, so many fucking bones. Whimper through the pain of your uterus throbbing, dodge everything, OUCH, except that one! Bruises are forming where his weapons pass through your body. A trickle of blood runs from your nose; lick it away, and continue.
Grab your knife with both hands and fully extend your arms into Sans. Of course, he avoids it, but this time there’s a shred of gray fabric on the tip of your blade. Getting closer.
He sends another attack at you. This one has bones stretching down to meet you. Duck and jump, getting tired, adrenaline beginning to fade. One more blow, you cough, a bit of blood in your saliva. Fuck.
“ya can’t understand how this feels,” Sans says with a stilted smile.
You’ve heard this before— in his memories, you’ve seen this fight he had with Frisk. He’s hardly even bothering to say anything new to you. He won’t even give you an original fight.
That just makes you angrier.
There’s sudden warmth inside your veins, reminding you of the liquid Determination Alphys injected you with. The magic inside you is bubbling, steaming, building. As you exhale, a cloud of red mist billows from your mouth, swirling and crackling until it disappears.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you until you manage to swipe the knife across the sleeve of his jacket. However, Sans moves out of the way before you can make contact with his body.
He continues his pervious thought, “rememberin’ everything. an’ then gettin’ stuck in a timeline where almost nothin’ is tha same.”
Slash at him again. You miss. God, how long can this go on for? You feel your body wearing weak, but the magic in your veins won’t let you pause.
“heh heh… oddly enough, it all gives me a sense of purpose.” Instead of sending another wave of bones at you, he teleports in front of you and grabs you by the face. “or is that just an excuse fer wantin’ ta kill ya with my own hands?”
Howl and hurl your knife at him, but of course, he’s no longer there to accept your strikes.
“hell if i know,” he says behind you, hands in his pockets, swaying, tossing you a cocky grin. “alls i know is… after sufferin’ in this timeline fer so long… ya should be fuckin’ grateful ta me.”
“SHUT UP!!!” With your shout comes a shockwave, but he’s prepared for it and it doesn’t effect him in the slightest.
“it’ll all be over soon, sweetheart.” His voice is sweet; he sounds so gentle and genuine it makes you want to puke.
“N o,” you bellow in a different voice, a charged voice, reverberating with the foreign power inside you as you turn to face him. “Y o u a r e n ’ t h u r t i n g m y b a b y .”
Blink, and suddenly everything has a light tint of red to it. Your irises are alight with crimson, fuming, fizzing with electricity. Magic seethes out your mouth as you exhale, circling down your arm and entering the tip of your weapon. Sans’s faces twists into an expression of complete panic.
You break the rules attack outside of your turn, multiple times in quick succession. Miss, miss, nick, miss, HIT. As he’s dodging the fourth attack, your reflexes exceed human capacity and stuff the blade into his open eye socket. It deals 0.999999999 damage. He screeches, the red orb of his iris clenching around the knife like an orifice, preventing you from stabbing any deeper. A dinosaur skull appears and opens it’s mouth; you step back before the tiny laser beam can hit you. The skull shoots up into the sky, but another just like it comes down on the other side of you. When it’s mouth opens, only a puff of smoke comes out, and it comically disappears again with crossed eyes.
Sans yanks the knife out and throws it far down the long stretch of the hall. Before you can even attempt to go after it, he sprints up to you and takes ahold of your shoulders. His iris is blazing, eye socket now cracked and… bleeding? Why is Sans bleeding?
“DOITMUTHERFUCKER,” he screams, shaking you once, then grabbing your hands to put them on him. Grasp his soul with your dominant hand and curl your other around the pointed bones of his neck. “JUSTFUCKIN’DOITDOITFUCKIN’KILLMEEE!!!”
0.0000000001 HP left. He’s almost dead. So close. One more malicious strike and it’s done. Just when you don’t want it to, all rage and adrenaline drain from your body and all you see is your Sans. Broken and bleeding, eyes gaping, sweat pouring, begging for death.
“Sans, you’re such an asshole,” you croak, tears streaming down your cheeks, “you’re so stupid. I hate you.”
“then end it!!” He grips his hands over yours and you can feel the bones start to collapse. “just fuckin’ end it so i dun’ have to do this anymore.”
“It didn’t have to be like this,” you whimper, fingers beginning to tremble around his soul. It doesn’t feel as warm or wet as your remember. He’s given so much of himself to you.
“course it did, sweetheart…” Sans rasps, his t-shirt dying red as his blood soaks into it. “did ya really think i deserved a happy endin’? nah. but you two do. at least lemme give ya that.”
There’s silence. You just stand there. Holding onto each other. For an uncomfortable amount of time. Trying to process. Realizing that at this point, you have no choice. He’s already as good as dead. He smells terrible. Clench his neck a little harder and his head completely separates from his body, his clothes falling onto a pile with the dust that was his physical form. His head is heavy; you fall to your knees so you don’t let it drop, cradling it inside his jacket.
To your shock, Sans laughs. “i wish i’d smoked more cigarettes,” he grumbles into you, pupils back to normal, blood beginning to dry. Push away all horror and disbelief to return a soft chuckle, smiling at him. His mouth twitches grotesquely, sharp teeth glimmering as lightning flashes again. “life is like a box of chocolates,” he says, voice straining, “in tha end, ya always get tha same thing. an empty box.”
You laugh frantically, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“see ya on tha other side.” In your hands, his head crumbles into a pile of white dust. It slips between your fingers and lands on his clothes, wafting around, entering your lungs as you breathe. His false tooth makes a quiet noise as it hits the floor. The upside down heart that is his soul hovers in the air. The last remaining bit of white leaves his soul and enters yours. The empty heart quivers, then shatters into nothingness.
You level up. HP fully restored.
The remainder of his magic entering you instills new life. You feel whole. But so empty at the same time. He’s gone. He’s gone. Collapse in his remains and sob heavily, pulling and fondling the gray jacket he left behind. He’s gone! Sans!! Sans Sans Sans Sans SANS!!! No, why, it didn’t have to be like this, you idiot, you fucker!!
Your mourning is cut short when your son tells you something very urgent. He wants to come out. Put a hand on your stomach and ask him to wait. The only response you get is a harsh uterine contraction. Fuck… you have to get out of here.
The book on monster biology said a monsters essence lives on in their dust, and is often sprinkled on their favorite material possessions. Not wanting to leave Sans alone in this cold, hollow room, you shove every bit of him you can into the pockets of his jacket. You put it on, along with his socks and sneakers. The shoes are too big for you, so you tie the laces as tightly as you can.
Time to face the king of all monsters. He would probably be intimidating if you weren’t completely numb. A very tall, muscly, and hairy goat monster. If you can kill the one you love for the sake of your child, you sure as fuck can kill this nobody. You let Sans’s magic take over and beat Asgore into submission. Near the end, he breaks down and begs for mercy, spouting so many words and stories that you just don’t care about. You kill him. And take his crown as a trophy.
The barrier is a long hallway with a tall ceiling, white light pulsing down it's shaft. It rings and warbles a song of powerful magic. You hold your swollen belly with both hands. And pray that this will work. You start walking. Nothing happens. You walk for a long time. Nothing happens. Crows cawing in the distance. On the other side is a dark room with a grassy knoll under a single beam of moonlight. It’s identical to the one you landed in at the beginning of your journey. You expect Flowey to pop out and say goodbye. But he doesn’t. So you just continue forward.
A nearby murder of crows take wing when you step out onto the surface. They perch in a tree and continue squaking at each other. Rain lands in soft droplets on your face. The only light is that of the moon, peaking out from a rift in the storm clouds, and the blaring radiance of human civilization near the horizon. Skyscrapers pierce the heavens, red lights blinking from the top of each tower.
Look down at the two golden teeth you have in your hand. One, a sharp canine, the other, a dull molar. The rain washes away what dust covered them. You feel a strong contraction in your uterus and a strange dropping sensation. Your baby reminds you that he wants to come out.
Okay. You can do this.
don't kid yerself
an’ don't fool yerself
this love's too good ta last
an’ I'm too old ta dream
don't grow up too fast
an’ don't embrace tha past
this life's too good ta last
an’ i'm too young ta care
don't kid yerself
an’ don't fool yerself
this life could be tha last
an’ we're too young ta see
The most difficult enemy. Father of your child.
You don’t care about the consequences. Having your soul splinter into nothingness is better than this. Let the knife fall to the floor with a loud clatter. Take a deep breath. And say it.
“I love you.”
The ramification is instant. Soul tugged from your body, purple haze seeping through the pores of Sans’s white shell. It feels like your brain is fragmenting inside your head, floating around like magnets. It’s not enough. You say it again, louder, “I love you!”
Sans jerks as his own soul is forcefully pulled out of him. It’s an upside down, transparent heart, with a thin white outline. A bit of white swirling from the pointed base. “no,” Sans hisses, “shuddap!! i need yer soul intact!”
“I love you, Sans!” The magic inside both you begins to attract; your feet start to slip forward from the exertion, almost like gravity. You smile at him and it causes him to follow the lurch of his soul towards you, his sneakers leaving marks of on the worn marble floor.
“no, no. (your name). please, not this.”
Open your mouth to say it again, but just making eye contact with him advances the process. Can feel your molecules stretch and bubble, the very core of your being completely exposed and crumbling. You aren’t numb, but it doesn’t hurt. It sort of feels like going from embryo to adulthood instantaneously. The cartilage between your bones, the linking of cells to make living tissue, the strands of your DNA, all floating, disconnecting, waiting to make new connections.
Without words, you hear his voice.
i’m scared. i’m so scared, (your name). i’ve never done this. i dunno what happens.
It’ll be okay. I love you.
i’ve never not known what was going to happen next. i’m scared! please, make it stop!
You don’t have to know everything. You aren’t alone anymore. I love you.
You look at Sans, standing there, hunched over, sweaty, and you take a deep breath. As though he can feel it, he stands straight, rib cage expanding, then he exhales with you. He looks nauseous. You tell him it’s alright. To let it happen. To trust you. He says okay. He says he loves you. And you say you love him, too.
The splintering was complete in that moment. Your souls merged together into one light purple, undefined, ever morphing shape— everything from a sphere to a stellated dodecahedron. You became Sans and he became you. Every sensation, every thought, every memory was shared. You saw how heartbroken your suicide made him. You saw every cruelty he had to endure in Underfell. He saw how equally twisted your love for him was. He saw the terror and trauma you’ve had to endure in Underfell and how so much of it was because of him.
And you both saw the fight you had. And why you left him that day.
Timeline 62a, as blue Sans called it. The baby was killing all three of you. He wouldn’t let you risk splintering and you accused him of being a coward. In his frustration, blue Sans said you were a glitch and that you and the baby should never have existed in the first place. He apologized immediately, saying it was the worst thing he’s ever said to anyone. You forgave him. But you still believed him.
Sans occasionally nonchalantly griped about not knowing what to expect in this timeline. Not knowing what to expect from you. He would talk about how easy and casual life became in the ‘normal’ timeline with Frisk. The normal timeline, you would repeat to yourself. The one where it was just him and his brother. You never let him catch on to how much you internalized that.
He had been drinking and he taught you how the machine worked. Just once. For fun. He regretted it the moment the lesson was over and called himself a bonehead.
Because of you, Sans was insecure. He was dying. You were going to take him away from his brother. So you went into his workshop. And tried to create a new timeline. The old one, where Frisk fell into the underground and you didn’t exist. The one where Sans knew everything and where he could be happy with his brother. Then, none of you would have to suffer. You thought that was what he really wanted. But he’d never do it himself. He never did anything he didn’t absolutely have to do. It didn’t make sense, really. It was stupid. And it didn’t even work. No matter how many times you tried or how many dials you changed, nothing happened. Death became a very real reality. Hopelessness set in. Sans didn’t have to suffer pointlessly along with you. You could end everyone’s suffering. You could…
You could. And you did.
At the last moment, your baby spoke to you. He said he loved you. And you tried to get your balance back. You tried to land back onto the ledge. But you didn’t. The ground beneath you broke apart. You fell. And you both died.
There are hands touching your face. But you can also feel those hands as your own, touching warm skin. “Sa…” you say, breathless. He’s kissing you. The softness of lips against your closed teeth. The habitually of it. You feel everything, his magic, living in his body, the frenzied machinations of his mind. Through his nose, you can smell how the perfume the bunnies put on your mixes with your natural pheromones. You smell delicious. You want him to take you right there. He laughs and says you’re crazy.
“all that…” Sans mutters, reflecting on what you did in the previous timeline, “just to wind up here. with me, knocked up, again.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” you chuckle.
Images and concepts of God, fate, and the universe whirl in his mind. He thinks way too much way too quickly. He acknowledges this and says well, maybe you think too slowly. You kiss him again, eagerly, and can feel the sensation of his magic centering between his legs in sexual tension. Having a magic boner feels surprisingly similar to the tingles of human sexual arousal. You both tell each other to chill.
You want to just sit and explore this new state of being. Sans has anxious thoughts of Papyrus and Asgore. “we gotta get outta here,” he says, standing and taking your hand to pull you to your feet. Fingers lace together. The baby kicks, he grunts and puts his hand on his stomach, which you involuntarily mirror. “geez, being pregnant sucks,” he huffs. You sneer at him and tell him to pussy up.
Either you were the last thing he expected, or the two of you look terrifying, because the king is speechless. Maybe it’s both. Take a step forward. Asgore stutters as he points his trident at you, saying you will not pass, that your souls will be his, and that the human belongs to him. In Sans’s head, you hear words like fucker, kill, dust, kill him, kill that fucker, kill, end him— grip Sans’s hand tightly, fingernails digging into the spaces between phalanges. A bit reluctant, he follows your lead as you simply walk towards the king.
Dead golden flowers crunch under your feet, between your toes, under your sneakers as you circle the throne in the center of the room. The power inside both of you flares, rendering Asgore motionless. Whether it’s due to your actual magic or your presence alone, you aren’t sure. But it doesn’t really matter. Because you’re at the barrier now. Asgore doesn’t matter anymore. Underfell doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters.
The long, tall hallway vibrates and moans with powerful magic. Neither of you have crossed the barrier before. In the previous timeline, you broke it, setting everyone free. He’s scared. His bones start quivering. You tell him the universe wouldn’t have fought to put you two together again just to end it here. He laughs and says how do you know this isn’t all just a big coincidence. You tell him neither of you could ever be that lucky.
Nothing happens as you cross. On the other side is a room identical to the one you landed in. Sans winces as he relives the pain you felt landing on that pile of wilted flowers. Crows caw in the distance. The smell of fresh rain. Moonlight shines through the doorway. You both step out onto the surface, rain trickling, making gentle sounds as it lands on your clothing and the nearby trees. There’s a vibrant city near the horizon and a shore, beyond which is a stretching ocean.
You both look out at the open world and realize you have no idea what to do next. He sighs, then asks if you know what the universe intended by putting you together again. Instead of answering, you kiss him. He can feel your hunger, your desperation, all your unanswered questions, your nipples hardening beneath the tight clothing.
It’s still raining, but the other half of the sky is completely clear, revealing the beauty that is starlight. He lies on his back and you mount him so he can look at the stars. As you ride, you can feel your own pussy enveloping his cock, your own fluids dripping onto his exposed pelvic bone. You see yourself bouncing on top of him while seeing him bucking beneath you. It’s pretty overwhelming. The red lights of his eyes scan the open sky and he lists each constellation he can find. He points out one of his favorites, the Andromeda constellation, and how the Andromeda galaxy is the farthest object in the night sky visible to the naked eye. It’s about 2.5 million light years away and it has a trillion stars. Breathlessly, you ask how many the Milky Way has. He says about 300 billion. For whatever reason, that makes you laugh, and you say you love him. And he says he loves you, too.
TRUE PACIFIST ENDING
If you were to look at yourself right now in a vacuum, you’d probably have to laugh. Bare footed, in a torn formal dress, made up like you’re about to go to a ball. That illusion is lost when acknowledging your incredibly pregnant belly and the knife in your hand. It’s all quite silly, really. Everything you’ve ever done in your entire life has led you to this moment. There must be some deep, cosmic meaning behind it all, but you’ll be damned if you can see any significance in it.
Sans takes a few steps towards you.
Then again… Maybe there isn’t a message. No profound lesson. Maybe he’s right. And you’re a glitch. Just a mutation in the long genetic code of the universe. Never really important. Never meant to exist. An abomination, who’s only worth is in being eliminated. This is how you felt before you fell into the Underground. The utter hopelessness and interpersonal dread return easily.
You drop the knife. It clangs around on the floor a few times, then sits there, the light coming in from the window reflecting off it’s surface. Thunder grumbles, quiet at first, then building and pounding until the sound waves shake the building.
He’s in front of you now. Takes your face in his warm hands and makes you look at him. His expression: serious, searching. He smells nice, familiar and earthy. You’re too dispirited to do anything other than stare blankly.
“aren’t ya gonna fight me?” he asks. His breath is hot and it smells almost fruity, like acetone.
Blink at him. Then slowly shake your head. “I don’t want to.”
One of his arms encircles your waist, the other fondling your face, pinching a cheek, outlining your eyebrow. “ooh, (your name),” he purrs and pulls you close, his teeth nuzzling into your neck. You turn your head away and feel yourself wanting to cry. This time, you just let go. What’s even the point anymore. One strap of your dress falls from your shoulder, and he immediately goes to kiss at the newly exposed flesh.
“remember what i said at tha riverbank?” Sans mumbles as he seizes your breast and gropes until it starts to emerge from your bra. The sensation of hot wetness as his tongue appears and laps at a few scars. “i said if ya ran away, i’d eat you up.”
All this makes you think if Little Red Riding Hood. Here you are in a red ensemble with a hungry wolf tasting you. He wants to eat you. For no real reason, you giggle, the sound muted from accumulating mucus in your nose and throat as you cry. “Y-you’re really going to kill me? Both of us?”
Very slowly, almost methodically, sharp teeth sink into your shoulder. It’s so slow-moving and quiet, it feels more like a doctor making an incision rather than your lover taking a bite. Cry out as the pain builds, reaching to tug at his jacket. “Saaaaaans,” you mewl unhappily. His teeth leave you and he leans back to look at you, blood coating his mouth, dribbling down his chin. He grabs you and hastily picks you up. Skelehands constantly move across you to get a better grip as he hobbles both of you to one of the pillars. Your back is pushed against it, legs held up by his arms looped under them, just like that first time against the tree. Throbbing magic bucks between your thighs, you gasp.
He chuckles. “god, yer such a freak. i know ya like pain, but this?” Thrusts into you again, bunching your underwear between your folds. “i’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya and yer gettin’ off to it.”
“Don’t—“ you start, pausing to cry out when he bites you again, more ravenous this time, “d-daah, it’s not my fault.”
“of course, nothin’s ever yer fault, iz it?” He slurps up your blood, his hips wildly dry humping into you. “mmnnnn, i wanna fuck ya. i wanna fuck ya till yer nothin’.”
“No…” you manage to say, “I don’t want this. I don’t—“
A shockwave erupts from you, powerful enough to jolt Sans back, and you fall to the floor. It hurts, you think you might’ve bruised your tailbone. Your son is trying to say something. But you aren’t listening. The pain of his bite marks, how cold your bare feet are, how meaningless it all is. You caused all this. You can’t fight him. He’s right. You’re a glitch. And maybe he is the savior. Who will erase corrupted timelines and plant the seeds for new offshoots. You can just die. That’s easy. All the pain and turmoil will end.
The skeleton quickly recovers and takes a hold of you again, pulling you to your feet. He gropes and paws desperately, and you completely lose it, “just fucking do it, Sans.” You sob, turning away from him every time he tries to get close to your face.
“i love you, sweetheart.”
He shouldn’t have said that. It ignited something in you. It pushed aside all despairing thoughts of suicidal ideation, and strengthened the connection between you and your baby. The infant gives you a blurred image, but you can tell what it is. The knife. Sans notices your change and grabs you by the arms before you move. Send your knee into his crotch and he reels, giving you enough time to slip away, but your feet tangle with his and you fall to the floor. Scramble towards the knife on your hands and knees, but Sans grabs your ankles before you’re able to reach it, pulling until you’re forced onto your back. You scream and thrash, reaching to yank at whatever parts of him you can.
“crazy bitch,” he grumbles, magic eye lighting up then poofing out of existence almost instantly. “god damn fuckin’,” he growls, eye sockets still empty, hunching over you to pin you down as best he can, “all my magic. that lil’ leech is gonna suck me dry.” He’s sweaty, dripping on you as phalanges struggle to take a firm grasp on anything they can. “gotta end this.”
One hand pushes into your stomach and another pulse of energy knocks Sans back. Reach for the knife, accidentally push it further away. He’s on top of you again, one hand around your throat, the other wrenching your soul from your body. Both squeeze and the pain it causes is indescribable. It doesn’t even hurt that much, but it feels like he’s individually clenching every cell in your body. Reach up and shove your fingers into both eye sockets, scraping and pulling. It obviously distresses him, but he still holds on, falling forward until his heavy frame crushes you.
“Sans,” you choke out, struggling to breathe from his ribs compressing your chest and his hand still choking you, “stop. I thought you loved me.”
“shuddap,” he spits, the fist holding your soul pushing into the exposed part of your chest, right above your pounding heart.
“Noo, Sans!!” Crying crying, removing your fingers to lovingly hold his face. “What about our baby? Please. Please, Sans, please. Our baby.”
“shuddap… shuddap!” He’s crying too. “i have to, i have to. it’ll be better this way.”
Can’t breathe. Gurgle, ears ringing, everything starts to fade. He’s still talking. Something about resets, a new world. He says he’s sorry.
And then you’re gone.
Sans sealed your soul in a glass container. He panted and watched as the white magic of his own soul drained until all that was left was your perfect, purple heart. His own soul had filled in again. He let himself sigh with relief, all the magic he gave you returning to his body.
Then he looked at you. On his hands and knees, he hovered over your lifeless body. You didn’t make as beautiful of a corpse as he thought you would. He had the fantasy of using your remains over and over again, knowing every part of you belonged to him, forever. But now that you were there. Actually dead beneath him. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He kissed you. And sat back on his knees, looking out the window, the sun now completely under the horizon.
“if there’s anyone out there…” he whispered, “please. don’t make me remember this.”
You wake up in a bed. With soft, white linens and goose feather pillows. It smells like lilacs and morning dew. Rest your hands on your stomach only to find it flat. Your baby is gone. You sob and wail and curse and scream. He’s gone. There’s a voice. It tells you that it’s going to be okay. And that you should get out of bed. So you do.
Wearing a flowing, see-through robe, you glide across the wooden floor to the door. Outside is a long room, similar to the cathedral you were just in. But this one is bright, with orange and yellow tiles, rays of sunlight beaming through huge stained glass windows. As you go, you see people you know. Family, friends, well-wishers, and some you only glanced at on the street. They’re all so happy to see you but you kindly insist that you’re looking for something.
Through the next doorway is a throne room. A huge, empty throne in the middle, surrounded by a field of golden flowers. Birds are chirping. The ceiling is open with vines tumbling down the architecture and dandelion seeds wafting in the sky above. Off to the side is someone you recognize.
Sans is wearing his normal outfit. Blue hoodie, t-shirt, gym shorts, but he’s barefoot. He glances over his shoulder at you sheepishly and says hey. You run up and entangle him in an embrace. You cry and say how sorry you are. He looks kind of uncomfortable at first, but he still hugs back, saying none of that matters anymore. And that he’s sorry too. He kisses you. And when you kiss him back, he gives you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.
That is. Until you see your son smile.
Sans pulls the front of his jacket aside to show you a swaddled infant curled up against his ribcage. Your baby smiles at you. You take him in your arms and finally feel… whole. You feel perfect.
I can't remember when it was good
Moments of happiness elude
Maybe I just misunderstood
All of the love we left behind
Watching the flash backs intertwine
Memories I will never find
So I'll love whatever you become
And forget the reckless things we've done
I think our lives have just begun
I think our lives have just begun
And I'll feel my world crumbling
I'll feel my life crumbling
I'll feel my soul crumbling away
And falling away
Falling away with you
Staying awake to chase a dream
Tasting the air you're breathing in
I know I won't forget a thing
Promise to hold you close and pray
Watching the fantasies decay
Nothing will ever stay the same
All of the love we threw away
All of the hopes we cherished fade
Making the same mistakes again
Making the same mistakes again
I can feel my world crumbling
I can feel my life crumbling
I can feel my soul crumbling away
And falling away
Falling away with you
All of the love we've left behind
Watching the flash backs intertwine
Memories I will never find
Memories I will never find