MurderVictim

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"Ugh! Sans!" Just as the skeleton predicted, Frisk pouted as she tried to shoo his hand away from her hair. "C'mon, that's not cool." Of course, she couldn't help but laugh, even as she was forced to bring her brush back to her hair to straighten it out. Her hair was always kept to a short length, so it wasn't too difficult to tame, luckily for Sans.

"Okay, I won't be long," she said as she set her brush down. As Sans left, she grabbed her toothbrush. She continued her usual morning routine, following it with washing her face and putting on fruity smelling body spray.

Frisk looked at her reflection, and again was forced to pause. That was her reflection, her face. There was no doubt about it. But how many times in previous resets had she seen someone different? Sometimes Chara stared back at her with a wide, crazed grin. Sometimes it was still Frisk, but with a cold and blank expression. Sometimes she only saw a girl with a terrified look in her eyes, not knowing what she had gotten herself into.

It was nice to see just...Her. Normal Frisk. She hoped with all her heart that this would stay. Not just for her sake, but for everyone else's.

Frisk might have stayed there a while longer, if Sans hadn't called out to her. Snapping back to what she had been doing, Frisk set her body spray down and looked to the door. "Yeah, just one more sec!"

Leaving her reflection behind, Frisk hurried out of the bathroom and to Pap's room, where she had left her shoes.

"Okay, I'm all ready!" She smiled at Sans. It'd be nice to walk with him to the ruins, right where it all started. Quality time with one of her favorite skeletons was something she hadn't had in a while, and hopefully it wouldn't be ruined by her flustered emotions.

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Frisk giggled and snorted at Sans' joke.

She thanked Papyrus for taking her plate, then stood. She stretched and went to straighten out her shirt, pausing when her fingers found the hem of Sans' jacket. It was so comfortable, fit so naturally on her frame, that she had completely forgotten that she was wearing it. The events of the previous night came flooding back, leaving her unable to stand there with a blank stare on her face.

The nightmare had felt so real. They always did, as they should. They weren't mere illusions, or over exaggerated fears. They were memories of the past, forever burned into her skull. No matter what timeline she was in, how good she behaved, she would never be able to forget.

It was for the best, really. Those nightmares were a harsh reminder of her sins, a desperate plea from her conscience to be a true pacifist. They were also one of her few punishments. Karma was going to smack her no matter how many times she reset. And Frisk knew she deserved any and all consequences she was given. To her, she wasn't given enough.

Why was Sans trying to pretend that nothing had ever happened? Why was he okay with her living with him and Papyrus? Dammit, why didn't he hate her! As appreciative as Frisk was for Sans' forgiveness - if one could even call it that - she knew it wasn't right. After all she did, after all the damage she caused. Hell, if she concentrated she was sure she could still feel Papyrus' dust between her fingers. It disgusted her. Didn't she disgust Sans, too?

Frisk looked up to the second floor, eyeing the part of Sans' door that she could see from where she stood. Deep down, she knew she'd have to talk to Sans about all of this. She had to talk to him about a lot of things. But she was too afraid of what would become of such talks.

Sighing, Frisk drew her arms around herself in a light hug, pressing the jacket closer to her. She buried her face in the fabric, ignoring how the zipper poked at her. After a moment of standing there, finding comfort in Sans' jacket, Frisk straightened up and headed for the stairs.

Her clothes were kept in a side closet at the end of the hall. She kept the different stacks as neat as she could, keeping them distinguished between what was dirty and what was still clean. The monsters around Snowdin, as well as Toriel, were all kind enough to lend her clothes and give her whatever fell from the surface. Toriel even knitted her sweaters and scarves with her signature blue and purple stripes. That was the easiest way to recognize Frisk, afterall. Just look for the blue and purple stripes.

While Papyrus was busy in the kitchen, Frisk quickly ducked into his room to change. It was bothersome not having her own room, but they all made due and worked things out fairly well. She reluctantly switched Sans' jacket for one of her sweaters.

With jacket in hand, Frisk made her way to the bathroom. With the very same comfort one would expect between old roommates, she headed inside the open door and reached around Sans to grab her hair brush. "You need to be more careful with your jacket, Sans," she said with a grin. "I almost stole it for the whole day, again."

While smoothing out the tangles in her hair, Frisk offered the hoodie to its owner.

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Frisk always felt bad when Sans took the most burnt food. She knew he was doing it for her sake and Papyrus', so they could enjoy one of their few meals of the day. The few times she had snagged the less desirable portions of the food, she ended up not being able to eat all of it. The last thing she wanted to do was insult Papyrus' cooking, but everyone had their limits.

Now, it was like a wordless agreement. She didn't feel any better for it, though. Sans deserved to fully enjoy his breakfast like everyone else.

Frisk followed the brothers back to the couch, easily taking her usual spot between them. Unlike the previous night, she was feeling relaxed and comfortable. Sans was sitting right next to her, yet she was perfectly at ease. It had to have been from her nightmare - the mornings after such dreams were often easygoing if she woke up with Sans. Her fears and guilt were momentarily vanquished, thanks to the short skeleton.

Frisk looked up as Papyrus spoke, glancing to Sans when he answered. She smiled, looking back down at her food before she answered. "Yeah, same here." She flashed an appreciative look at Sans, then took another bite. A moment went by before she said anything else. "Oh," she chimed before swallowing the food in her mouth. "Toriel called me yesterday and asked if I could visit her soon. I think she texted you, Sans?"

Toriel never beat around the bush when it came to her wanting to see Frisk. Before, it was a little embarrassing. But now Frisk felt warmed by it. Toriel was more of a mother to her than her own biological mother, who she couldn't even recall the face of. The older she got, the less time she could make for Toriel. So she visited whenever she could, or jumped right to it when the queen asked.

"I probably shouldn't make her wait," Frisk said with a small laugh.

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Frisk was engulfed in comforting warmth. Her dreams were blank, consisting of just an empty void where she couldn't move or speak. But she didn't struggle. She simply let herself float, content to stay right there. It was like she was wrapped in a thick blanket, or snuggled in one of Toriel's hugs. There was something more, however. A hint of blue magic crackled in front of her every so often. It popped and sparked, yet completely harmless. Was that where she was? In a void of blue magic?

Before she could go deeper with that thought, Frisk found herself startled by a voice.

---

In reality, Frisk grumbled in her sleep at Sans' first attempt at waking her up. It certainly wasn't unusual behavior for her. Sleeping in was one of her favorite things, as she was nowhere near a morning person. That morning wasn't going to be any different, especially given where she was sleeping.

Unfortunately for her, she probably should have woken up the first time.

Upon hearing Sans' teasing words, Frisk shot her head up with a snort. She scrambled back so she could sit up, hurriedly brushing her messy bangs out of her face. One side of her hair stood up in a funky bed-head style, while the other was a little frizzy. Without a doubt, Frisk always woke in the most hilarious ways.

Most notably of all was the blush on her face. "Hey," she said, drawing the word out in an attempt to seem casual. "I mean, uh...Good morning? Maybe? What time is it?" She frantically smoothed out her hair and clothes as she looked to the kitchen, finally noticing the smell of food. What a perfect distraction!

"Oh hey, food. Let's go get some." With a nervous grin, still trying to play off her embarrassment, Frisk stood and headed for the kitchen. Once there, Sans would be able to hear her compliment and thank Papyrus for making such a delicious looking breakfast.

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Frisk paused for a moment after her heard Sans' joke. Did he not remember? No, he always remembered! Besides her, he was the only one who the resets didn't fully affect. He had never alluded to that fact, though. Frisk wasn't sure why, as surely he had similar nightmares and night terrors to her own. Was it to protect her, or keep the peace between them? In some timelines, despite her taking the kinder path, Sans still appeared to hate her. He wouldn't touch her, hardly joked with her. It was like all he saw was the monster dust on her hands, specifically Papyrus'. Frisk couldn't say she blamed him.

She'd give anything to never see that side of Sans again. Apparently, pretending it never happened was the best way to achieve that. So, she smiled. It was small, but it was genuine. She sniffled as she looked up at him, put at ease by his laidback nature. She was finally starting to see why she had such powerful feelings for Sans.

His jacket smelled like snow and pine needles, undoubtedly from his time spent in the woods. There were traces of hot dog and ketchup too, and it all mixed together in a scent that was undeniably Sans. That very jacket brought back memories of that timeline, of every time he let her wear it. As a child, she practically swam in it. Sometimes she'd steal it from him, giggling as she playfully dared him to take it back.

She snuggled up against him, letting her weight lay on him. Her brain always expected hard, cold, uncomfortable bone. Yet, to her, his entire body was warm and soft, like she was lying with another human.

It didn't take long for Frisk to doze off. As she did, soft words tumbled from her mouth, completely unrestrained. "I don't know what I would do without you, Sans."

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Frisk gave a startled gasp when she felt Sans touch her, not having heard his whisper. She looked at him, eyes red and shining with unshed tears. Her surprise only came from not expecting Sans to wake up. Normally, if she wanted his attention while he was asleep she'd have to work for it. Jostling his shoulder a bit normally did the trick.

Now, she just felt guilty for waking him up. After what had happened, she was so sure that he wouldn't want to deal with her. Yet, as he pulled her into a hug, she realized how wrong she was. Before, her heart would have fluttered with heavy, confusing emotion at him holding her. Now, she wanted to stay buried in his arms forever, where the images of her nightmares couldn't get her.

She didn't speak, only hugged him back as tightly as she could. He felt so sturdy, like nothing in the Underground could or would ever break him. Of course, Frisk knew better. She tensed in his arms, and pressed her face to his shoulder. She looked up only to see their hands joined together, fitting like they were made for each other.

That was it. That was the symbol of the best ending she had ever gotten. Sans and her, their friendship strong despite the hardships they continued to face. Papyrus was alive, as was everyone else. She had stopped trying to get back to the surface years ago, never to know what truly awaited them all beyond the barrier. But what she had now, what she could have had in every timeline, was all she needed.

A sob caught in Frisk's throat as she looked away. "Sans, I..." She paused, trying to force her words out. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She wanted to apologize for what had happened only hours ago, yet could only focus on what had happened in the other timelines.

It made her sick to her stomach. Sometimes Toriel didn't show up in time, and Flowey successfully convinced her to kill. Sometimes an outside entity named Chara would take her over, and kill for the fun of it. During those resets, she never fought as hard against Chara as she could have. Sometimes, however, it was all Frisk. She would get curious. Curious of what would happen, curious of how strong Sans really was.

Whatever the reason for her genocide path, it was almost always the same ending. She'd face Sans and die over and over, until she'd get lucky and land a single blow. She'd laugh at his fallen form, or cry, or do nothing but stare. Either way, she got past him.

One time, when given the chance to spare him, she'd taken it...Then plunged the knife into her own body. They had been going in circles for so long. Death, death, death. She just wanted it to stop, and whatever Sans could do to her wouldn't cut it anymore. She was sure that had been the last reset, but they were all blended together in her mind, so it could have been any timeline.

As she thought of this, Frisk clung to Sans like he was her only lifeline. He had had her blood on his hands so many times, yet he was the only one she could truly trust with her broken soul. She hid her face against his hoodie like she had done when she was a child in the same situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Her soft pleas were muffled by the fabric of his jacket and her tears, but that didn't stop her from saying them. She apologized again and again, finding that the word just wasn't strong enough.

"I'd take it all back if I could."

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Frisk jumped as the door flew open. She had been splashing water on her face to calm herself down, and when Papyrus rushed in she whipped her head up. Water dripped down to her shirt, but she could ignore that. She quickly shut off the water and turned to the tall skeleton. Her surprised expression met his concerned one.

"HUMAN! ARE YOU OKAY?" he repeated. He took a step further into the bathroom, but didn't risk getting too close to her.

"Y-Yeah, Papyrus! Of course!" Frisk grabbed a towel and wiped off her face. The water hadn't helped as much as she wished it would have. "I just swallowed wrong, that's all."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT."

Startled, Frisk looked up from her towel and at the skeleton. Despite her many growth spurts, Papyrus still towered over her. She searched his face and found such heavy concern, that she wasn't even sure if she was still talking to the same guy. Papyrus wasn't normally like this. Not at all. "What do you mean, Papy?"

"I MEAN...WITH SANS."

"What about Sans?" Frisk looked down.

"YOU ACT SO STRANGELY AROUND HIM. BEFORE IT WAS ONLY EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE, NOW IT'S ALMOST EVERY DAY." Papyrus' expression softened as he put a hand on Frisk's shoulder. "I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS CONCERNED."

Frisk forced a smile. "It's nothing, Paps. I promise." She gently took the hand on her shoulder and held it reassuringly. "I'm just being a weird human."

"YOU WOULD...TELL ME IF SOMETHING WAS WRONG...RIGHT?"

Frisk paused, and her face fell for a moment. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to him. Papyrus didn't deserve that. But, she also didn't want to make her problem his, either. With a soft sigh, she smiled again and patted his hand. "Of course I would, Papyrus."

There was silence for a moment. Frisk was beginning to wonder if she had said the wrong thing, when her favorite tall skeleton pulled her into a tight hug. She embraced him back, letting the tension leave her body before gently pulling out of it. "So, how 'bout we go to your room, and you can tell me how things have been going with you and Mettaton?"

Frisk grinned at the light blush that crept along Papyrus' cheekbones. Without another word, they headed out of the bathroom. After Papyrus put away the rest of the spaghetti, they vanished into his room.

---

Frisk found herself walking amongst a patch of yellow flowers. Pollen and pedals floated around her, and beyond them she saw nothing but darkness. Confusion hit her hard, followed by a sense of dread. Had she reset again? It wasn't often that she reset accidentally, but it was something she also feared.

Looking down at herself, she found her adult figure and height. She looked at her hands and clenched her fists, letting out a relieved breath. This was a dream. Just a dream.

"It's kill or be killed!"

Frisk snapped her head up, suddenly finding herself in the hall of judgement. She knew this place all too well. It's pure, golden light would forever be burned into her memory, no matter which timeline she was in.

"It's a beautiful day outside."

A chill ran down her spine. Frisk whipped around and spotted a familiar figure.

"Birds are singing-"

The words were so familiar in her ears, Frisk could mouth them perfectly. She could recite them perfectly.

"Flowers are blooming-"

"Wait, please!"

"On days like this-"

"This is a just a dream! Please!" Frisk forced herself to step forward.

"Kids like you-"

"Sans!"

"Should be burning in hell!"

Sans' left eye shined bright as bones erupted out of then air. Frisk felt herself being dragged forward by her very soul. She clenched her teeth and tried to pull out of it, but could only work on dodging the bones that were hurled at her. "Stop!" she cried as she was struck. A bone pierced her arm. "Please!"

Her voice was swallowed by the hall. She clenched her hands, and found something in her right hand. She didn't need to look down to know that it was a knife. Her knife.

Her vision tunneled, and before she knew what was happening she was rushing forward. Bones hit her over and over, draining her HP. But all she needed was to hit him once.

'No! No, please! Don't hit him!' All she could do was think and watch as her body moved without her control.

Her arm raised with the knife aimed high.

'Please!'

Red smeared her vision. For a long moment, all she could see was grainy, deep red. Her stomach twisted, yet a feeling of pride surged through her.

---

Frisk sat up with a gasp. The room around her was dark, and quiet save for Papyrus' snoring. Her gaze bolted from wall to wall. When she was satisfied that she was no longer in the judgment hall, she felt her body. There were no wounds, but the phantom pain lingered. Her soul ached.

That nightmare wasn't new, but it never got any easier to deal with. Frisk took in ragged breaths to calm herself. Tears gathered in her eyes, and fell before she could stop them. Shakily, she rose from her pile of pillows and blankets on the floor. Yet again, she had fallen asleep in Papyrus' room.

But she couldn't be in there, not after that dream. Seeing just the very outline of Papyrus' body as he slept made her sick - Sick and disgusted in herself.

Making her way to the door, Frisk let herself out as quietly as she could. She climbed the door shut behind her, and as she did so she glanced at Sans' door. Whenever she had those kinds of nightmares, she went to the short skeleton first. He was very last monster she wanted to see after such dreams, but he was the only one who could understand.

She sniffled softly as she realized that she couldn't go to him that time. Not after what had happened earlier. It had upset him enough to make him leave, so surely he wouldn't want to deal with her problems so soon afterwards. Sighing at that thought, Frisk turned and headed down the stairs.

She was surprised to find Sans taking up the couch. She lingered near the stairs for a moment. What now? She couldn't go back to Papyrus' room. She couldn't go to Sans' room. It was far too cold to go outside. She could go to the kitchen, but in the end she decided to carefully sit at the end of the couch.

Despite everything, Sans' presence still brought Frisk comfort, even after reliving his anger and hatred. She leaned her face in her hands and let herself cry.

This was just not her day.

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Frisk had managed to shove another large bite of food into her mouth just as she felt Sans' hand on her head. She paused, trying to work her jaw so she could swallow. Oh god, he was touching her! This was not the best time for him to be touching her! Frisk's panicked thoughts rushed through her mind, drowning out all other traces of thought. She sucked in a breath and tried to focus on swallowing the food in her mouth.

She nodded and risked another glance at him. She tried to smile, but the heat of her deep blush was a little too distracting. He was going to notice her blush. He was definitely going to notice! If anything, in that moment she looked more like an awkward teenager than anything else.

Frisk guided her gaze back to the screen, right in time for a particularly gooey romance scene. She tried to swallow in the same moment that her breath hitched, and that resulted in her choking. She covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed, placing her plate on the table to keep it from being knocked to the floor. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad. The spaghetti dislodged itself quickly. But that didn't stop her flustered body language, or her embarrassment.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, sorry." She glanced at Sans, then at the screen. "I'll, um...I'll be right back!" With that, she scrambled to her feet, awkwardly moved around Papyrus, and rushed up the stairs. She headed for the bathroom, where she left the door open at a crack.

"Jeez, Frisk! Why do you have to be such an awkward loser?" she asked to her reflection in the mirror as she leaned against the sink. She stared at herself for a moment, then rubbed at her faced and sighed into her hands. She could stand up to monsters as a child, yet fell apart the moment she obtained feelings for a friend. What was up with that?

Frisk looked to the door, hoping the brothers hadn't noticed her leave, or at least didn't see much in it.

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While Papyrus wasn't pleased, Frisk genuinely laughed at Sans' joke. If there was anything that could put her at ease without fail, it was one of Sans' jokes. She relaxed a little, though her heart still raced at a fast pace. At least she wasn't sweating, anymore. And, hopefully, her blush had faded.

She really shouldn't have been surprised when Papyrus swept her up in his excitement. Still, she was caught a little off guard, and made a soft "oof" sound when he dropped her on the couch. But that was just another reason to love Paps. She smiled and smoothed her short hair down a bit.

Frisk fixed her plate and began to eat. The spaghetti definitely wasn't as bad as it had been in the past; she didn't have to choke it down like she feared she would. In fact, it was a comfort. Hot, homecooked food always soothed her nerves. Despite being seated next to the object of her strange behavior, she was perfectly comfortable. Even her heart had settled down.

Well, everything was fine until the movie started. Frisk wasn't a fan of the series, but she didn't mind watching it with Papyrus. She knew what was coming. The romance was awfully heavy, she knew that. She could handle it. What she couldn't handle, however, was watching it with Sans. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep herself from imagining her and Sans in the most gooey scenes. Every kiss, every intimate touch...She wished it was her and the short skeleton.

Her butterflies returned. She was only half-way finished with her food, yet had to stop eating. She lowered the plate to her lap and tried to keep her gaze on only the screen. If she looked away from it, she feared that one of her friends would notice. She bit her lower lip as she watched, hoping for some sort of action scene to break up the romance. The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. Oh god, this was not a good idea!

Finally, the movie progressed. With a mental side of relief, Frisk looked down at her plate and swirled the noodles with her fork. Cautiously, she stole a glance at Sans, hoping he had been paying attention to the movie and not to her.

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"Papyrus, maybe you should, um..."

"Wait! I don't think that's..."

"Maybe I should do that, Papyrus...?"

Frisk's passive, soft voice spoke up every once in a while as she stood in the kitchen. She watched Papyrus with worried eyes. Him burning the spaghetti was the least of her concerns; she didn't want Sans coming home to a fire, or a house full of smoke. Still, she couldn't keep from smiling at the tall skeleton as he cooked. Dangers aside, she didn't want to ruin his fun.

She leaned on the counter, soon bending over it with her elbow on the surface and cheek in her palm. It felt like just yesterday that she'd be standing in that very spot, having to stand on her tiptoes just to see over the edge. Papyrus would pick her up to sometimes let her stir or throw in an extra ingredient. She wouldn't worry too much about the way Papyrus cooked, or the aftermath of his enthusiasm. Frisk was just happy to help. Things were so simple back then.

Frisk held back a sigh. She had turned twenty years old not that long ago, and still couldn't help wishing for her childhood back. The new emotions and feelings and insecurities...They flooded her. They were impossible to escape. She thought she had gotten through the worst of it in her teen years! Apparently not. When she was a child, even facing the monsters around her was a simple task. They still were, especially now that she had made friends with everyone and they had gotten to see her grow up.

Well...Except one certain skeleton.

Frisk snapped back to reality at the sound of Sans' voice. Well, speak of the devil! She lifted her head from her palm, straightening up a bit and turning when Papyrus did. At the sight of the shorter skeleton, Frisk tried to hide her sudden blush. Her heart began to pound, and she was sure that she felt beads of sweat form on her forehead. Her hands began to shake. In an effort to not let the brothers notice, Frisk grabbed the nearest kitchen towel and began to clean up the spilled sauce.

As she carefully wiped the mess up, Frisk avoided looking at Sans. If she did, she feared her heart might explode out of her chest. This happened way too often, and all it did was leave her feeling embarrassed and guilty. She couldn't look at Sans, or hear his voice, or...Heaven forbid he tried putting a hand on her back or shoulder! The butterflies in her stomach would flutter so fast that she'd almost feel nauseous. The only thing that helped was stealing Papyrus away, as he made for a good distraction. Frisk hated leaving Sans out, but it was better than him knowing what kind of effect he had on her sometimes.

Frisk didn't want that to happen again tonight. She sucked in a deep breath, wrung the soiled towel in her hands, then turned to spot Sans trying to peer around Papyrus. Her heart hammered, but she smiled at him. "I'm trying to help," she said with a small laugh. She tossed the towel onto the counter, making a mental note to throw it in the washer later. With that, she walked towards Sans.

"So, uh...What's up. How was your day?" Despite her better judgement, Frisk gave Sans a light and friendly punch on the shoulder. She tried to keep her smile as bright as possible, but a hint of her tension was still there.