Skeleton Ghost

Revelations

((This one's a fun one. ;3 It's also where everything takes a drastic turn. Self-indulgent fics, am I right?))

He saw his own face, twisted in loss, anger, betrayal, saw his own hand lift as the one he saw himself through was flung back, slamming into a wall, crunching into a pillar, bones snapping against the ceiling as pain radiated from every inch of their being, yet even then their actions were not their own. Screaming inside for it to end, yet outside they were smiling.

They struggled to their feet even as they wished to lay down and let it end. Their very will no longer belonged to them as Sans's voice spoke, fading in- strange to hear from somewhere that was not himself… but he wasn't in his own body.

"You, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh? … Listen."
...He remembered this. Oh, he remembered this. It hurt so much just remembering how he felt, how desperate he had been, how scared he had been.

"I know you didn't answer me before, but…"
Frisk was screaming inside, begging, not for Sans to stop, but for Chara to stop. Chara ignored them with practiced ease, smiling emptily as they looked on with intrigue.

"Somewhere in there. I can feel it. There's a glimmer of a good person inside of you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing."
Sans wanted to cry.
Frisk never blamed him. Frisk never did. They never even considered him, they had always begged Chara to be kind.
No. No. No no no nonono- why?! Why? WHY-
"Someone who, in another time, might have even been... a friend?"

FRISK I'M SORRY! He screamed into the vivid memory, yet nobody heard him.
"C'mon, buddy. do you remember me? please, if you're listening... Let's forget all of this, okay? Just lay down your weapon, and... well, my job will be a lot easier."
I'm so sorry…

Chara had no intention of turning back now. They smiled, but from this new perspective he could understand it had been a sort of grimace all this time. They raised their blade, Determined to continue on, to find a new ending, searching, searching, forever searching for something they still could not yet identify…

"Welp, it was worth a shot. Guess you like doing things the hard way, huh?"

Sans blinked awake, unable to move. He could feel a dampness on his cheekbones and in his sockets, something aching in his very Soul. He knew now how Frisk had felt, and regretted his decisions more than he ever thought possible. His mind wandered around, now imagining Frisk in that state, Reset after Reset as they slowly faded away.

His room blurred as the horror gripped him. In spite of everything, Frisk had been a child. A pure Soul that wanted nothing but everyone to have the best new lives beyond the Barrier as possible.
His Soul ached.

Faced with this cruel and unfair truth, Sans wished to forget, trying to go back to sleep since he was currently immobile.

Time crawled by before his sockets grew heavy, yet his mind wide awake. His Soul was pounding, even as his external self seemed ready to return to rest. The hammering within ached, almost as though it were cracking under the force of its own pulse, yet he was still caught in a paralysis. The pain slowly bloomed into his ribs, stinging and even beginning to burn.

Sans was starting to panic, unable to move as pain radiated out from his Soul without reason.
Then without warning, he felt like he was falling.

His mind was black, a sensation of something warm somewhere within as his awareness of the outside world faded away. Sans was fully prepared to give up and let his consciousness drift, but instead he felt something study him rather than saw. The gaze felt unfocused and vague, almost as if largely blind.