It took about a week for Sans to collect the six souls. He had to be discreet, after all. He’d been really tempted to put on a grim reaper outfit - he had the look, he could nail it - but that probably would have caused some problems. He was a little sad about the lost opportunity. Harvesting souls as a living skeleton, as the grim reaper? It’d have been perfect! Even if no one else would catch all of the irony involved.
He did bring a plastic scythe with him as a compromise, though.
A passing thought occurred to him that if he did manage to remember the resets, he could totally make it happen, but he brushed it off.
They met up again and Sans looked over everyone. Frisk looked determined, as was to be expected. Alphys had been heavily shaken by the revelations of the previous week and it didn’t look like she’d really recovered. Flowey looked extremely interested and Sans could feel his skin crawl. Metaphorically.
That flower really bothered him. But he had been good about being on the straight and narrow, as well as helping Frisk in their role as ambassador. He suddenly realized he’d never asked if Flowey had behaved during the loops that were going to be undone. He also realized that he had no idea if Frisk would even pressure Flowey to be good in those timelines.
He suppressed another sigh.
They set up for another round of murdering Frisk. It felt a little different after knowing Frisk had killed him last week, but it was still weirdly kind of normal. What had been a really stressful time for them when he was the target, was treated as just another day when they were. If anything, they even seemed to look forward to it.
This time, Sans stayed within the ring of blasters, carefully positioned so he wouldn’t hit himself. On Flowey’s signal - which still irritated him - he’d attack and then as soon as he saw the soul, he’d grab it and try to absorb it. Had to be Flowey’s signal, though, because Frisk needed to concentrate on two things - trying to delay the reset and trying to make Sans remember.
Frisk reached out to save and then looked a little fatigued, Flowey shaking his head.
“It’s just not working,” Flowey said. “Frisk has managed to delay the reset long enough for their soul to be briefly visible, but Sans hasn’t even gotten close to absorbing it.”
“I have another idea,” Frisk said. “Sans, can you manifest any magic directly from your hand? Blasting, summoned bones, the like?”
“yes,” he said, a little uneasy where this was going.
“So here’s my thought,” Frisk said. “Let’s cut open my chest and have Sans put his hand around my heart. Then he can kill me, and his hand will already be in position to grab my soul the instant it starts to appear.”
Literally everyone stared at Frisk in astonishment at that.
“What?” they asked. “It’d save a little time, and might make the difference, right?”
“Flowey?” Alphys asked uneasily. “How many times did Frisk die this time?”
“I didn’t count,” Flowey said. “Probably not more than thirty or forty times.”
“Maybe Frisk is getting a little too comfortable with dying,” Alphys said.
“What are we supposed to do, give up?” Frisk asked, a dangerous note of challenge in their voice.
“N-n-no, but t-there surely must be a b-better way,” Alphys said.
“Why would that be?” Frisk asked, their voice still sounding dangerous in a way that deeply unsettled Sans. “Why would anyone think life is fair enough for there to be a better way? All this costs is pain and deaths that never happened. If it didn’t happen, it doesn’t matter, right?”
“kid,” Sans said, trying to ease his tone into something gentler than he felt. “it affects you, it affects your mind, and that does matter. you know that.”
They sighed and looked away.
“By that measure, then everything I’ve done matters, and I deserve it anyway,” they muttered.
“you’ve died more than ten times as many times as you’ve killed,” Sans said, a little more harshly than intended. “cut yourself a break. you tried to do the right thing, you misjudged and made a mistake. that doesn’t mean you deserve endless suffering.”
Their lip trembled.
“and yeah, what you did matters, because of the effect it had on you,” Sans continued, making his tone gentle again. “i don’t love what you did, but i keep telling you, i don’t hate you for it.”
“After last week, I believe you. But the fact is, I hate me for it,” they said with a choked laugh. “For all of it.”
Sans summoned a bone and threw it at their head. They yelped in surprise and pain and stared at him with wide eyes. He just continued to give them a look. A smile slowly crept onto their face, their shoulders started to shake, and a minute later they’d completely fallen to laughter.
It was a weird moment, but he really did love Frisk’s laughter.
“Now that that’s done, I see no problems with Frisk’s idea,” Flowey said.
“But won’t they have to save after being cut open?” Alphys said, her voice trembling.
“Do you have any idea how much healing magic Toriel packs into her pie?” Frisk asked wryly, pulling out a slice from their phone's dimensional box. “I could be on the absolute edge of death from crippling injuries and this would bring me right back.”
Flowey was giving the pie an odd look. Frisk suddenly looked bashful and packed it away again.
“I… I guess,” Alphys said.
“Do you have any surgical equipment, or surgical experience?” Frisk asked. “If not, no worries, we can just grab a sharp knife.”
“This is insane,” Alphys said. “I… Frisk, I’m really having a hard time going along with this.”
“Would it make you feel better to sit out these parts?” Frisk asked. “The violent stuff, I mean. I don’t want you to have nightmares or anything.”
“Frisk… I’m already having nightmares,” Alphys said. “Last week, realizing that an experiment I helped set up killed you thousands of times…”
“I mean, I killed Undyne, I deserve - ow!” Frisk said, flinching as another bone hit them in the head.
“what?” Sans asked innocently, then winked. “it slipped.”
Frisk and Flowey both looked amused, and Alphys looked grateful.
“I didn’t agree because I thought you deserved to suffer,” Alphys said. “I agreed because I realized that you were used to and comfortable with dying.”
“You know that’s not the full truth,” Frisk said. “You already knew I’d died a bunch, before I told you about that timeline.”
“There’s a difference between dying a bunch while trying to do the right thing, and going out of your way to pursue violence,” Alphys said with a huff.
Frisk gave her a disbelieving look.
“... and maybe an extra death or two would have been okay,” Alphys admitted, looking away for a moment, but then she glared at Frisk. “But not thousands!”
“Really, it was just one long, drawn out death,” Frisk said.
“Hours long!” Alphys said.
“Granted,” Frisk said. “I’m sorry, Alphys. I don’t want you to have nightmares. More nightmares. Please, please know that last week wasn’t bad for me. It was even… kind of nice.”
“Nice,” Alphys repeatedly dumbly.
“It’s hard to describe,” Frisk said. “Let’s just say that Sans killing me at the height of my evil was one of the most profoundly satisfying moments of my life, and last week brought that part of the memories back. So don’t feel bad about last week. In a strange way, I enjoyed it.”
Alphys covered her face.
“This is too much for me,” she said. “I’m happy to help. To get lab equipment, to set it up, to discuss experimental procedures, to run tests. But… but I don’t want any part of the violence anymore.”
“Thank you, Alphys,” Frisk said seriously, giving her a hug which Alphys hesitated to return, but did. “Thank you - both for all of your help and for being honest about your limits. The three of us have the violence covered, you don’t need to worry. Let’s hang out later, okay?”
“O-okay,” Alphys said. “I’ll go hang out with Undyne for now.”
“Y’know, her spears are sharp…” Frisk said thoughtfully and Alphys glared at them. “Sorry, bad idea, Sans’ bones will be fine, it’s all good.”
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With that, Alphys left. And once again, there were three.
“you sure about this, frisk?” Sans asked.
“Yeah,” Frisk said. “Let’s do it this way. Stab me in a way that my heart should be accessible. I’ll give it a bit, see if I feel like I’m going to pass out. Then I’ll reload. You can stab me again, and if the injury feels the same, and it was a stable one, I’ll go ahead and save. Then we can run through a few loops, and then I’ll eat the pie.”
“You are SUCH a masochist,” Flowey said admiringly and Frisk grinned at him.
“want any pain meds or anything?” Sans asked.
“Nah,” Frisk said cheerfully. “This’ll sharpen the memories from last year, from the deaths by stabbing. Those memories have faded a little.”
Right, it had been over a year for them. It’d been barely three months for Sans.
“alright. let’s do this,” Sans said.
They went to the save point and Frisk got a shirt they didn’t like. Sans had to help, of course, teleporting them back home to grab it real fast. They cut it off right below Frisk’s breasts, which made them blush deeply.
“It’s crazy to me that you’re fine with Sans literally ripping out your heart, but seeing your skin, that’s a bit much,” Flowey commented, and Frisk threw the tattered scraps of shirt at him.
Sans couldn’t help but notice. Frisk generally rocked the androgenous look, with comfortable, baggy clothing. One of the many benefits of monster food is that it didn’t make humans fat, and Frisk was quite trim and healthy, despite regularly enjoying Toriel’s pie and Grillby’s burgers. He’d never had cause to think about their body shape before, but seeing their exposed belly and waist brought it to his attention. They were clearly keeping themself fit - they regularly trained and sparred with Undyne and he suspected some of the lean muscle was new. He’d never thought about how shapely they were under that baggy shirt.
He tried not to think about that and instead summoned the sharpest, broadest bone he could. His hands could fit into pretty small spaces, so it didn’t need to be that wide, but he did need some room.
He also realized that this would be the first time, in all the times he’d killed or hurt Frisk, that he’d actually remember doing so.
He wouldn’t enjoy this memory.
He could see a trace of fear on their face and he suppressed a sigh. He really didn’t want to hurt them. They reached out, took a breath, and saved. Their expression immediately shifted to be a little pained.
“That has taken ten attempts so far,” they grumbled. “But it looks like we’ve gotten it. Apparently, with your bones being summoned magic, the intentions and such that I hold are kind of important as to whether or not they’ll cut cleanly. Which explains some things about some past experiences. But I’ve got the hang of it now - I can let your magic tear open my flesh. You just need to aim a little downward of your original plan, and it should be fine.”
He nodded, feeling a little sheepish that he hadn’t thought of that problem ahead of time. He was really distracted by dread for what he was about to do. They saved again, to keep him aware of what they’d just said, presumably.
“ready?” he asked, floating the bone in place.
“Yeah,” they said.
And he stabbed his closest friend just below the heart.
“Ow,” they gasped as blood flowed over everything.
“You don’t have to say that every time, you know,” Flowey said.
“Hush you,” Frisk squeezed out. “Yeah, that feels the same, I should be conscious for at least several minutes.”
They reached out to the save point… and their injuries undid before his eyes.
“Damn it, I forgot about that part,” they said with a groan.
Flowey started laughing.
Right, Sans knew about that, too. But the last time they’d saved after taking an injury had been when they were still all trapped underground.
“I guess I’ll have to be freshly stabbed for every trial,” they muttered darkly. “Fine, I guess. Well, let’s do this.”
“guess you’re boned,” Sans said as he stabbed them again, though they were laughing enough that he missed a little. Still looked like it'd work, though.
“Fucking ow,” they said, their voice agonized. “It hurts to laugh and breathe… please, Sans, kill me quickly…”
Right. He shoved his hand into the spurting wound and wrapped his hand around their still beating heart. With a surge of magic, it stopped beating, and despite knowing it was just going to be undone, his own heart twinged with guilt.
Power started to flood into him, and…
----------------------------------------
“You don’t have to say that every time, you know,” Flowey said.
“Hush you,” Frisk squeezed out. “Yeah, that feels the same, I should be conscious for at least several minutes.”
They reached out to the save point… and their injuries undid before his eyes. Their eyes grew more pained.
“It looked like Sans was getting the soul this time,” Flowey said.
“Take two,” Frisk said. “We’ll want to do a few trials, at least. I’ll need to be freshly stabbed each time. It really sucks. Go ahead.”
“guess you’re boned,” Sans said… and then paused.
They started laughing, and hadn’t that hurt them somehow?
“Why didn’t you stab me?” Frisk asked.
“i had a weird feeling like laughing hurt you for some reason,” Sans said.
“Wait, is it actually fucking working?” Frisk asked, their eyes widening. “You remembered? Do it again, Sans! Stab me and kill me again, quickly!”
Flowey was snickering in the background.
Sounded good to him. He stabbed them again and then hesitated, seeing their blood gush out of the wound.
“Fucking ow. Again,” they said, their voice agonized. “It hurts… please, Sans, kill me quickly.”
Right. He shoved his hand into the spurting wound and wrapped his hand around their still beating heart. The sensation was oddly familiar. With a surge of magic, it stopped beating, and despite knowing it was just going to be undone, his own heart twinged with a strange, echoing sense of guilt.
Power started to flood into him, and…
----------------------------------------
“You don’t have to say that every time, you know,” Flowey said.
“Hush you,” Frisk squeezed out. “Yeah, that feels the same, I should be conscious for at least several minutes.”
They reached out to the save point… and their injuries undid before his eyes. Their eyes grew manic.
“Did it work?” they demanded. “What do you remember?”
“what?” he asked, confused.
“You remember, don’t you?” they pleaded. “A little?”
He tried to think.
There was a strange sensation in his hand. He looked at it. It made him sad, for some reason. He focused on the sensation and realized… he remembered his best friend’s heart being crushed in a surge of magic, in his hand.
“i think… a little,” he said.
“Again!” they said, their eyes blazing. “Stab me again, Sans, and please, kill me quickly.”
Right, it did sound painful. Best not to drag this out.
He stabbed Frisk in the chest and then immediately drove his hand into the wound, grabbing their heart. With a surge of magic, it stopped beating, and he felt a strangely intense, echoing sense of guilt.
Power started to flood into him, and…
----------------------------------------
“You don’t have to say that every time, you know,” Flowey said.
“Hush you,” Frisk squeezed out. “Yeah, that feels the same, I should be conscious for at least several minutes.”
They reached out to the save point… and their injuries undid before his eyes.
“This doesn’t seem to be working anymore,” Frisk said.
“anymore?” he asked, confused.
He was having a pretty intense feeling of deja vu, and an odd feeling of guilt rattling around in his chest.
“You get impressions of the previous loops, but that’s it,” Flowey said with a sigh. “This is getting boring.”
“Didn’t you once tell me you’d kill me a million times?” Frisk asked with a shit-eating grin. “This hasn’t even been twenty!”
“But I’m just sitting here not doing anything,” Flowey complained.
“What, you want to kill me instead?” Frisk asked.
“It’d be less boring,” Flowey muttered.
Sans cleared his throat.
“so it sounds like it worked enough to give impressions, but not full memories,” Sans summarized.
“Yeah,” Frisk said. “You seem to pretty consistently remember the feeling of wrapping your hand around my heart and killing me.”
He blinked at that and looked at his hand. At the thought… he shuddered at a faint, remembered sensation of warm flesh beating against his hand, and then bloody ash…
“Looks consistent,” Frisk said. “But you’re not getting any more than that. A few loops, and it seemed to stabilize as those faint, half remembered impressions, but nothing else is getting added.”
“still, it’s promising,” Sans said. “we made some headway. it’s the first success we’ve ever had, so it’s worth celebrating.”
“I agree,” Frisk said with a grin. “I’ll just need to think about ways to strengthen… the… bond…”
They trailed off thoughtfully.
“didja think of something?” Sans asked.
“Maybe,” they said. “Need to flesh out the thought more. But yeah, we should celebrate. Maybe have a few reloads over the next bit, see if it’s a continuous connection, or only what happened during the trial.”
“makes sense,” Sans said. “just let me know when you’re going to do the reloads.”
“Me, too, if you’d be so kind,” Flowey said politely.
“Sure. Wanna join us for the celebration?” Frisk asked him.
Flowey had a sad look on his face.
“No,” he said, and Frisk just nodded.
“Let’s invite everyone,” Frisk said. “They don’t need to know the details to know that we’re having some success, right?”
“makes sense to me,” Sans agreed. “let’s hit up grillby’s.”
Grillby had, of course, re-opened his bar, and it was doing quite well.
They had a grand time. Over the following couple of weeks, they mostly took time off from experimentation, but did try a few reloads. Turned out that Sans could vaguely remember faint impressions of anything that had had an emotional impact on him. This was a true, permanent change in how he interacted with the resets.
It was working. Sans would be safe from dead-ends in time, for as long as Frisk remained loyal and stable, if only they could figure out how to expand on this success, figure out another approach.
It was working. Frisk would be able to keep Sans forever, in some way or another, if only they could figure out how to strengthen that bond…