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Please, sweetheart. Just let it be.

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“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. But it’s the only way.” Liar. Sans knew he was only lying to himself again, it was pretty obvious. Now more than ever before. Now that he had her blood all over his jacket and his slippers were drenched in the stuff. 


What a wild, wild world we’re living.


He didn’t remember the resets, not fully. Not until the little kid he used to think of as a friend killed his brother, anyway. Seeing the scarlet scarf be thrown into the snowy air, he was shocked. He wanted to believe in the human, he really did. 

That other timeline, the happy one. That one he remembered all too well now, almost with a mocking clarity. 


Where money talk and trouble sells.


They are bruised and their skin looks more yellow and purple than its normal cream tone. It made something within Sans stir its ugly head and laugh at the situation. 


Where if we strive to reach the heaven.


Once, he may have thought that the human was The Angel sent to help them all. 

Once, he may have thought that making that promise to the old lady in the Ruins to take care of the next human to come out was unnecessary. He would have done it regardless.

Once, he may have had the opportunity to meet the boss monster, the ex-Queen of the Underground no less, and tell her exactly that same thing. They would have laughed about it, too.

But this was not that situation and he knew it. Sans was horribly aware of what was going on. This hadn’t been the first time they reached him in that golden hall to get Judgement, Retribution, Karma. Call it whatever you like, Sans was sure that for his sweetheart to have all this LV… She had to have killed almost everyone in the Underground. 


Then we got to walk through hell.   


Something had gone wrong. It must have. 

This was not his sweetheart, this was an impostor. He saw it in the way they moved, the style of their dance. Precise, fast and brutal. The human’s usual dancing style hadn’t been like that at the beginning. 

He remembered fluid motions and gentle movements. Happy twirls and maneuvers that left him without breath. 

Now he was gasping for air for a completely different reason. 

With a heavy and frustrated stomp in the Ground, Sans ended the battle. His sweetheart’s body just lying there in he middle of the Judgement Hall, unnaturally still. 


Well maybe it’s time to tame the monster inside. 


Sweet Frisk. He remembered the first time they got to break the barrier after a showdown of sorts that left her collapsed in the ground, much like now. But, at the same time, not. The sun bathing them all in its warmth, the air not being stale for the first time he could remember, the possibilities just laying themselves in front of him. Endless, overwhelming and lasting. An actual, linear flow of time, just as it should alway had been. 


Of this wild, wild world we’re living.


He had been shaking with fear. This was just what he always had wanted, what he always strived towards, intercepting the previous anomaly time and time again. Then why was he so afraid? It suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. 

And just when he was going to flip, to get away from that thing that was called sunset, there they were. With a gentle smile and grace to their movements, Frisk took his hands in theirs. The difference in size, the difference in nature…. It was pretty obvious. And yet, the both of them were hands, just normal. The golden light of the sun making the human look softer, even kinder that they already were. 


Destroy and rebuild, it’s kill or be killed. 


Not anymore though. That was just the first time of a couple of times, then came the dozens, then came the hundreds. Over and over, Frisk looked just as warm, just as kind, but sad. Sad in a way he couldn’t really get to comprehend. 


But we can change, we can change everything.


The timelines started to shift, slowly but progressively. Most times they didn’t make it to the surface, but he was content nonetheless. They would come back and make it right again, he was sure. And maybe, just maybe, let it stick this time? 

There was a reason to this resetting, there had to be, surely Frisk wasn’t this cruel? The human knew what this was doing to him, apologizing to him every time they met in this very same golden hall. 

But then, it happened. Complete and utter genocide, for the first time. He remembered being confused, angry, grieving. Kicking denials and screaming for answer. Because why?! Why do that?! The human didn’t need to hurt them anymore, they knew how to handle this kind of fallen world. This couldn’t be the same human he had been caring for, rooting for, all this time. Surely they weren’t?

But their eyes were the same, their grace, their clothes and their style. It all matched. 

Except for their movements, their intent. 

Letting the beat drop, Sans summoned what little determination he had to send a message to the human, a last plead, a last request of a dying timeline. 

“If we were ever friends… You won’t come back”

I’m sorry, sweetheart, he remembered thinking. He didn’t really want to dance before, much less now. His mixed style, his bass, his trap, his nightstep, his techno… He didn’t want to do this dance anymore, just please, human, let it be this time.


A little love never hurt anything.


And the timeline reset all around him yet another time, taking his consciousness and memories to the start again. 

Please, sweetheart. Just let it be.