Work Text:
You killed them all. Everyone. Hundreds of times. You didn't know they were conscious until well into the tens, when you slipped up on the script and they said something new. It took even longer to figure out that Sans knew. Chara grew more excited after he started counting the attempts it took to kill him. He hid it behind 'expression reading,' but he knew. You know he knew.
"that's the expression of someone who's died... damn, a bajillion times. you sure are a freak, huh?"
You know. You know you're a freak. A miserable, evil, incorrigible child that will never be anything more than a murderer and they'll all figure it out and leave you an-
"Frisk, dear, are you alright?"
You snap back to reality, -mom- you don't deserve to call her that. You never have. Toriel is calling out to you, looking at you with a concerned expression.
"Child, you have been spacing out more and more recently. Just now, you were breathing quite oddly. Are you sure you are well? I can relieve you of your duties for a time, if need be. The embassy will understand that a ten year old needs their rest."
You shake your head. You cannot worry them. You don't want to worry them. You want to be nice. You can't let them know that you're not okay. You're the hope of humans and monsters. The ambassador.
The Angel.
Your hands start into motion, words not coming to you easily at the moment. You use it sparingly. Your voice. Your own. Toriel is not incredibly well versed in -hands- ASL, so she struggles sometimes, but she gets the gist.
"Fine. Ambassador work tires me out."
Not a lie, but not the truth. Her expression softens. She buys it, knowing how stressful government work can be. That's good. You've earned yourself another bit of time.
"Well then, my child. You should rest regardless. Tomorrow is a meeting for rights to set up that schoo-" A ring of the doorbell. "Let me get that."
Sans. He's been coming over more often. Toriel is happy to see him, and they seem to get along... Well... Too well. You giggle to yourself at the prospect of the two getting hitched. It's likely, with the way things are progressing. You don't mind it. He's been nice to you since Chara left. -you've never deserved it.- You run into a hug with him.
It sparks a memory. An early run, before you got... Curious.
"jeez, kid. you haven't stopped hoppin around in ages. you ever get tired of skipping? gonna have to start callin ya frisk at this rate."
The moment he gave you your name.
"hey, kiddo. you've been busy, huh?"
You know he doesn't mean it like that, but he's said that before. In the Golden halls. The Judge. The jury and the executioner and Blue and yellow and Bones Bones pain it hurt pain burns make it stop pain please stop pain bones cold socold bur-
"ya had to have, cuz you look *bone* tired. tori's been worrying about you."
He ruffles your hair. His eyelights are twinkling. At the pun, no doubt. He is not mad. You have been good. You have done everything right. You repeat your earlier claim, of work being too much, leaning as hard as you can into your poker face. You are still shaking slightly. His plastered on smile twitches, a slight decrease in intensity.
Did he catch the lie? No, it isn't a lie. It's true, just not the whole thing. So it isn't a lie. Toriel calls him from the living room, having sat down on the couch. He has an eye on you for another couple of seconds before his smile goes back to normal and he walks off.
You're so, so tired.
A nap couldn't hurt, right? Up the stairs. The house is small enough that it really isn't too much of an effort. You just hop into bed. You can't be bothered to undress. It would take too much energy. You are too tired.
You come to about 2 hours later. The clock on your nightstand says it's 4:36. That's about time to get up, since dinner will be coming at about 5, 5:30 ish. Toriel makes good food. When she lights the stove... The thought of her using fire sends invisible pain all across your body. You can still feel the burns. They never fade.
So, so tired.
You go into the bathroom, trying to brush your hair, since it gets frazzled when you wake up. Your eyebags are getting bigger, yet bigger, despite you sleeping more than ever. Your cheeks are not as full as they were. More gaunt. That's fine. Don't ask for too much. Don't be a burden. Take what is given, and nothing more. You walk downstairs.
"Oh, Frisk, dear! I am glad to see that you are awake. I was worried when you disappeared without warning. Sans assured me that you were just going to take a nap. You may do as you please, I will begin with dinner in about an hour."
You go to sit on the couch. Sans is there. You do like him. You do. He is nice. He knew about Chara.
You can still see the hatred in his eyes, whenever it peeks through. It's not pointed at Chara.
You are so, so tired.
You slip into an easy discussion about life on the surface. He's significantly better at reading hands than Toriel is. You have no clue how a monster would learn ASL when it came into existence in the 1800s, significantly after the war occurred. You believe it has something to do with his ability to read souls and their intents, combined with some other bit of knowledge.
Perhaps the man behind the gray door.
What were you talking about?
Toriel calls from the kitchen. She wants your help making something! And, like the obedient child you are, you sprint to her side.
"I am making soup tonight, if you would like to cut the vegetables. Do you want to?"
You nod enthusiastically. You can do that!
You've had a lot of time to get good with a knife, after all.
The movements you make of an expert of a craft. Cuts so precise that you'd struggle to find them in high tier restaurants. Chara using your body got you quite used to it. Muscle memory and all that. Once you are finished, you stand, attempting to take the veggies to Toriel, when.
Sans walks in.
You have a knife. Dust. Dust everywhere. You're coated in it. Your soul is blue. His eye flickers. Gold and Yellow. Judgement. Golden lights. Your sins are crawling. You can feel them wriggling. You are going to be blasted. It is your fault. You should have stopped. You should have been better. You let out a cry.
In the span of a second, you are released from his hold. The knife, and unfortunately the glass bowl of vegetables, is dropped. The bowl shatters. Your work is gone. He is sweating. You are cowering in the corner, muttering the same broken strings of words.
"I'm sorry I'll be good Please I'm sorry I'm so sorry Don't hurt me"
You are so, so tired.
Unceremoniously, you are dropped into a memory. The run that lasted the longest, other than this one. Chara wanted to take a full trip of the underground, truly savoring every sight of the place while they killed everyone this time. Frisk was watching from inside themselves, as always. This run was truly horrific, but only because Chara had toyed with the victims. No longer 'speed running' as they called it. When you made it to the hall, something was different this time.
Sans was still there, of course, but he didn't have an ounce of the jokes he usually did about situations. Completely mirthless. Not that he had any brightness to his tone in regular genocide routes. But he didn't even crack a smile.
"Hello, Comedian! Where have all your jokes gone? Finally run out?" They use your face to mock pout. "The one run where I take my time, and there's no fun to be had here."
Chara had even taken your voice. Your voice, that you rarely used. YOURS. The ONLY thing you owned. They used it whenever they felt like. This run, however, they were truly talkative. Something in Sans' eyes changed. Like he was seeing a new sight for the first time. He had been called comedian by Chara a couple of times, but multiple sentences? Out loud? In a row? From you? No. No way. He didn't even start a battle before he ran a spike through your skull.
You think he thought that since you were possessed, you wouldn't feel a thing. You knew better. He just didn't care. Chara, despite taking all movement from you, had been pushing all sensation of pain to you. They didn't take any of it. Something about 'your reactions are so precious.'
"kid, hey. it's okay."
But you felt it.
"kid."
You felt that, and the other 3172 times he killed you. He had started cheating the system, somehow, to kill you without a dodge chance after he realized it wasn't you. Eventually, Chara started speaking less and less in your head after a death.
"kid. can you talk to me?"
"somewhere in there, i can feel it. there's a glimmer of a person inside you. someone who... in another time... might have even been... a friend? c'mon buddy. remember me?"
When you tried to spare Sans, finally gaining enough control over yourself to do so. He extended a hand. You dropped the knife and ran into the hug. Apologies barely able to get through the sobs that wracked your entire body. And suddenly
A spike, through your lungs and heart. Well placed, if you admitted it. KSSHK! GRRK- Kugh... Koff...
Choking on your own blood wasn't pleasant, but it wouldn't be the first time.
"get dunked on!"
The cold feeling of your life slipping between your fingers. Losing breath as the air escaped your lungs as soon as it got there. Not like blaster to the face. Just a quiet acceptance of death. An old friend of yours.
"if that really wasn't you in the driver's seat, you won't come back."
Chara did not reappear. The dust on your hands didn't reappear. You could still feel it. Even now. You can never wash it all away. You swung the complete opposite way.
Nice to every monster you could be. Please every monster, and maybe they won't kill you.
"kid. hey. breathe, please. you look like you're gonna pass out."
They still did. The burns never left. You still felt the spears. The... The bones.
They knew you killed them, didn't they? You were atoning. You killed them. It's your fault. Just let them hit you. Make sure they're fine. Spare them. Free the monsters. Be a good child. Don't flinch when they move a little too fast.
"frisk. frisky. breathe."
That's your name. You. The person is asking you to breathe.
You are breathing quite well, actually. You pride yourself on your breathing. What does he mean by that, then? Oh, you're probably breathing too much. That would create a lack of air flow. What is the appropriate reaction? Stop breathing? No. That would also create a lack of airflow.
Your eyes begin come back into focus. You are looking at the most worried goat woman of all time, and a man made of pure white bones who is somehow several shades whiter than he was a minute ago. You grab the ground a little harder than before, assuring yourself you are no longer in the Hall. That the skeleton standing before you is no longer the Judge. What he says next doesn't help.
"i'm gonna CHECK you, okay?"
No. They can't know. They'll see your sins. Your EXP. What a bad child you are. A MURDERER They can't know theycanttheycanttheyCANT
"NO!"
A yell. Did you say that out loud? Oh dear. You are a bad child. You just yelled at someone. You curl up further into the corner. You used your voice again. That wasn't allowed. He'll probably use a bone, or maybe Toriel will burn you, or-
"got it. no CHECK. forcin that on ya wouldn't be *humerus*. pa-*tell*-a you what, kid. how about, uh... we go for a bit of a walk, while Tori handles the clean up?"
She nods, quickly turning away, putting all her worries into a more productive outcome. He's doing it again. The leaning into puns thing that he does when he's stressed. You can't stress him out. You slowly stand onto wobbly legs, but he's telling you to come with him and you can't just deny him twice that would be bad so so bad you cant be bad anymore he'll-
He gently takes your hand and pulls you along, not letting you fall. You exit the front door, take a left into a bush, and
THE
WORLD
BLINKS.
You are in the woods. It always feels weird, going through his shortcuts. There is a small clearing nearby, that he leads you to.
Wait. You know what to do.
"alright, kid. let's have a chat. i may be a numb*skull* but i can't miss the *skele*-ton of signs you're throwing out. what's goin on? no *fib*-ulas, okay?"
CHECK
"Frisk" (Nicholas)
4/4 HP
LV 5
EXP 0
*Tired. Wants to rest. Preferably forever.
You don't notice the CHECK. You look at him, scanning his face. His face has changed from his small smile to a tight frown. What brought that on?
Whatever. It feeds into the plan.
A bad mood. Already stressed from before. You can finally get him to do it.
You begin to move your hands. It's time. The only way out.
"The loops were fun, you know. Having you watch? As everyone dusted right in front of your eyes? Don't think I didn't see you. There's no way you weren't there when I dusted your brother. You couldn't miss that for the world."
His eyes were black. He hadn't given any indicator that he was listening other than that. His expression was blank.
"Undyne melting was funny! All that determination, and for what? Alphys hung herself afterwards, the coward. Taking the easy way out. Didn't take her for the type. But she's never been one to confront problems, eh? She even used Mettaton to try and get me to be her friend instead of just... Telling me about the barrier needing a monster SOUL. You took until everyone was gone to get off of your lazy ass. The Judge has lost his touch. How pathetic."
You threw in a sneer for good measure. Anyone that knew you, really knew you, would see that it was fake. But that would require them not being blinded by anger. You banked on that.
You were suddenly pinned to the ground, your arms being the only thing you could move. Even the Judge must listen properly to the defendant. Blue magic was gathering around you. His face was shrouded in such anger, such hatred. Your gamble pays off.
Come on. Just a little more, and you can sleep. Your arms continue to fly, trying to get the words out as fast as possible to build his anger. Don't give him time to calm down.
"Come on. Do it. I dare you. What, scared? Thinking about taking the cowardly way out of this engagement? Just like poor little Alphys?"
Seconds passed. Nothing happened.
You were sure you said enough. Why wasn't he killing you?
Why was there no blasters? No slamming?
His face is back to blankness. That smile he never lets leave his face if he has the choice.
"color me impressed. i didn't think you were dumb enough to come up with an idea like 'piss off the guy you died to somewhere in the hundreds of times.' am i getting worse at readin' people? nah. *tibia* honest, i can never tell with you. your poker face is too good."
His face drops a bit. Even the smile moves.
"no. no, you've got somethin else goin on. there's a reason. get to it. chara not get their skull crushed enough times? still kicking around in there? whatever it is, it's not very *punny*."
He's seen through your bluff. That path is done, then. Failure. Easy way is off the table.
How about the truth?
You get up. You walk a bit forwards. He does not back away. You grab his coat. He does not stop you. You look up at him. Pleading. You use your voice. You cannot use your hands, of course. You're grabbing his sweater, after all.
"I'm tired, Sans. Exhausted."
3/3
"I just... I want to sleep, Sans. But every time I try. Every day. I have a similar nightmare. I have to watch myself kill someone or get killed. I cannot stop it. I have to watch. I can't wake myself up. I know it's a dream, but it's my personal hell that I can't escape. I deserve it. I ran through the underground, slaughtering everyone hundreds of times. Thousands."
2.5/2.5
You lift the sleeves of your sweater. What isn't completely emaciated from your lack of eating has scars littering it, small holes scarred over and lines running up and down, long since healed.
"I can still feel their dust on my hands, you know. No matter how much I wash. No matter how much skin I cut off. It's there. I can never wash it all away. It's always just there. No matter what I do, I remember. No matter how much skin I remove. It's there. Clinging to me. Every grain of dust that has ever touched me is permanent."
2/2
"Every time I close my eyes, I see deaths. Mine. Yours. Everyone else's. And every day. When Toriel lights a fire in the morning. To make tea, or cook, or any thing. I flinch, and feel invisible burns. When you float an object with Blue, I freeze. I can't accept hugs anymore without fearing for my safety. The idea of seeing another blaster in my ENTIRE LIFE makes me want to cry. When Undyne roars or even so much as thinks about a spear, I cover my ears and cower, the holes she punched through me itching. I still can't watch Mettaton on TV. The idea of being behind bars or in a small room like the shed sends me spiraling. Spiders have jumped from very scary to 'I will genuinely cry if I have to look at one.' I can't use any utensil of any color close to red, and even seeing a trident in Minecrap makes me want to hurl. I can't have my back to anything but a door or a way out without feeling on edge."
1.5/1.5
"But they just see these behaviors as my quirks. I'm weird enough as is. A freak. What's one more thing added to the pile? They don't even know that they killed me. Hundreds of times. That I killed them, tens. I watch all of them, every day, smiling at me. Loving me. Being friends with me. But they don't know what happened. They're happy they're safe and that I'm here and that everything is fine and that everything hunky dory and nothing can ever go wrong again and the humans love us and!!!"
A sob that signaled the end of the tirade.
1/1
"And I see you. You know what I did. Or what they did using me. Is there any distinction? I started it, anyways. Kicked off the chain. And every day, I see the hatred that you hold for me. Not for Chara. For me. You panic when I so much as get near a knife. Enough to nearly summon a blaster. Don't think I didn't feel that magic gathering. I'm way too good at dodging not to feel it."
"I see the way you never do anything with yourself, still expecting me to reset. To take it all away. You don't even believe my promise. That I won't reset ever again. That I genuinely want a happy ending for you guys."
0.5/0.5
"Every day, I live in fear. Of everything. Of everyone. Of you. Of me. Of the idea that one day, they'll find out what I did. And that they'll kill me. Burn me. Cut me down. Honestly? I want them to do it. To release me. I want to be Judged. For my sins to be punished. For them to find out what a freak I *really* am."
0.1/0.1
"Please, Sans. You're the only one that can judge me. You know everything I did. You know every sin I've committed. You know my story. You gave me my name. You're the only one fit to do this to me. Especially after what I did to you. Make it stop. If I die. Right now. I'm not determined enough to come back. So please. Just make it stop."
A whimper. A sob. His sweater is coated in tears. That's the most words they've spoken in... Probably ever. Even Chara didn't ramble that much when they were in front. Their voice, that they only use sparingly, sounded hoarse by the end.
Sans looks down at the trembling mass that's clinging to his sweater like it's the only physical object that exists.
Why didn't he notice? They look like a skeleton. He knew humans had them, of course, but... They shouldn't be this visible. No flesh around their arm bones. Face gaunt to the point where you can see the outline of everything. Their stomach didn't even meet his body despite them clinging to him with everything they had, their lower torso being sunken in past the ribs. The surface of their arm was cause for concern, too.
Was that why they wore the sweater?
A thought.
LOVE is an incredibly fluid stat, surprisingly. It goes up when you are willing to hurt people. It is forcibly moved upwards when you reach an EXP Threshold. EXP cannot be removed. It can only be gained. The only way that someone like Frisk could get LOVE that high while being a pacifist is...
Willingness to harm themselves.
He extricates them from him, a mewling cry coming from their form as they are placed back on the ground several feet away. He takes a few steps back, getting into proper position.
"Frisk Dreemurr. Eighth Fallen. Angel of the underground." A flash of his eye, yellow and blue. "You shall be judged for every EXP you have gained. Every action you've taken. No need to explain this again, right?"
Through their tears, a nod. The world flickered. It looked like an encounter starting. The background of the encounter was the Hall. It took everything in them not to curl up into a ball and cry at the sight of it. His serious tone dropped a bit, edging towards his usual one.
"you gave a pretty good summary of what you did already. but uh... i think you failed to account for the whole 'there's a ghost that's possessing me and forcing my body along a path that i accidentally started because im a child that was too curious for my own good' part." He looked off to the side, wondering what you were even going on about. "you uh. basically did nothing. when chara left, you reset, and never touched another monster."
"i mean, seriously kid. you described more horrific things that are permanently going to effect you for the rest of your life than crimes *you* actually committed. seems a bit lopsided, eh? you killed one monster. one. all that happened after wasn't you. while i do think that you killing that one monster was fucked up, it's uh... really not anything detestable comparatively...?"
1/1
They froze. The hall's light went from harsh to something like the sun's warmth. Like it was when they ran through it in their current run.
"look. you ain't innocent. like ya said, you can't ever wash everything away. but man, it's still messed up that you killed one monster and it ended up being like that. what a slippery slope, eh? don't do drugs, kids."
His grin was playful, both eyelights aglow with a soft light. Frisk let out a choked giggle, still heaving sobs. An odd combination.
4/4
"see, what YOU did is... you uh. gave me a life. one that wasn't controlled by that flower. you got us out of there. i get to see the sun. paps has never been happier. tori is... 'n you promised not to reset earlier, anyways, didn't'cha? i sure as hell believe it now."
7/7
"so here's the bottom line. The Judge's Verdict. i can't forgive 'you' what 'you' did, but i can forgive YOU for what YOU did. cuz what YOU did is kill one person. they aren't even dead anymore. other kid made ya do the rest."
10/10
"so i got a real good punishment comin up for ya, kiddo. you ready for this one?! it'll be a doozy, but i think you can handle it. it'll take the rest of your life to do, though."
A nod, but their face was filled with apprehension. He must have played up the punishment too much for what it was going to be. His tone shifted from the playful one to a slightly more soft one.
"Live well. Eat. Sleep. Listen to your mom. Play with your friends. Don't forget about what happened, but don't put it all on yourself. You aren't that person that was in my Hall in times that didn't happen, you aren't Chara, and you are most certainly not whoever you were forced to be when you had your old name. You're Frisk. Frisky business. The Angel."
He left out a descriptor, but it was sitting at the forefront of his mind when he looked at their emaciated figure. 'my kid.'
13/13
The world falls away. The Hall's form displayed by the encounter returns to the nothing from whence it came. You returned to sobbing, sprinting to him. He accepts the near-tackle. You sob into his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair. You sit there for about half an hour, sputtering half formed words into his coat.
16/16
Crying turned to sniffles. And sniffles to shaky exhales. And finally, you were just huddled up against him. His soul thrummed a gentle beat that almost made you fall asleep. He had an arm around you. He whispered something that you could barely make out.
"when we get home, you are eating SO much food. can't believe you got this light without anyone noticing."
19/19
He wraps his arm tighter, so as to get a good hold on you. The world flickered. Toriel was standing in the doorway worried, and Sans was looking down at you.
The Dreemurr residence. No.
It was Home.
"you ready to go in, Frisky?"
You took his gloved hand in yours, beamed at him, and walked inside.
Frisk Dreemurr
20/20 HP
LV 1
EXP 0
*Wants spaghetti tonight instead. Maybe Sans could convince Mom?