Broken Bones (Undertale)

Pacifist's Dream ~End~

 This must have been what death felt like. A sense of darkness, looming over you wherever you went, and telling you everything you hated about the unknown over and over again. It had to be what death was, otherwise, Sans would believe this was Hell.

In fact, why wouldn't it be Hell? Every possible conclusion led to this place being a carbon copy of what most humans would describe as Hell, and Sans was sure that he would of ended up here anyway when he eventually dusted. He hadn't had a life that was exactly 'sin-free', since he knew the countless times the world had been reset and the abundance of times he had been subject to doing brutal experiments would stay on his back until judgement day. 

Even now, in this solemn wasteland of nothing but black, he could hear his memories forcing him to relive the moments that would stay permanently on his tab. This place had forced him to think about his death, and how he would never be remembered. Papyrus was long gone, and so were many other monsters that Sans assumed he had an impact on. No-one would be around to remember his name, not that he wanted them to. He had lived a life full of sin and repentance wasn't even going to cut it. Science had ruined him. 

He had ruined him.

He sat there, the distant fields of pitch stretching far beyond his comprehension. The luminous figures of orange staring at him directly in the face, cursing him out on his past and things he could not control. The things he wished he never done. The things he wanted to change.
Every life was the same. Every timeline was filled with guilt and he had no way to stop the pounding in his head, the screeching of those he wronged and the crunch of a skull being cracked every time he failed to save his brother. And right now, in his current state of purgatory, Sans began to understand why these two options glared at him so blankly. 

This is what he was never able to do. They were meant to haunt him, remind him of the fact that with every save and reset, he was never in charge. He could never control them. He was never going to be able to, even if his soul began sprouting thorns of red and brambles of blue. He was useless and was never meant to be able to have the knowledge he had; he was only meant to have the truth that he could not do a thing.

Tears of grey fell from his sockets, and the images of orange began to blur. He grew tired and felt his whole body begin to crumble into a sea of nothing. His bones cracked and broke, forming the scars he bore in real life. His body simply couldn't handle the weight of his sins and mental frustrations, falling helplessly and evaporating away, leaving only the remnants of a dead monster. 

He felt nothing anymore.

"You are not meant to die."

But he could still hear.

"I will protect you until they come. Your ashes will remain with me."

He could not question. Just understand.

"My child...your sins are not yours. They are mine. You just bare the scars. Don't worry any more, for I will take the weight of what I have done so you don't have to."

A smile in the realm of impossible; dust forming into a monster, but still a person. Possible in a place where it should not be.

"See? You are safe. I have to realise my wrongdoings...especially to you and your brother. That little red soul is almost here...you'll start a new life. A new timeline. But it will be alright this time. I promise."

Peace settled in the darkness, giving a small beacon of hope in the form of a red heart. It danced around the two options, glowing dominantly over a new start. A chance to bring life back to the world that it had destroyed. It was everything that this world needed.

"You will not remember me. Or this incident. You will remember nothing of what happened here. It was just a terrible end that never really got to finish. Goodbye, my son."

The heart proceeded to bring life back to the world, filling in blacks with grey and whites with silver; furnishing houses and giving life to those who had lost everything. They banished a demon and let a child live in its place, giving it a new start to a horrible first few years of entering the world. It then danced around the pile of ashes that lay in the corner of the darkness, twisting and turning until it produced a sleeping skeleton. He was small, and he was knowledgeable. And now, he had the power to do something with his intelligence.

The heart and the skeleton faded into this new world, where things were right again. Justice was served properly and there were no more unnecessary deaths.

It was a pacifist's dream. 

~*~

Sans opened his eyes. His bedroom was as messy as it usually was, and he could hear the echoing of his brother's voice as he laughed at some show on the TV. He was lying in his room, unsure of what he could remember or what he had forgotten this time round.

He got up, instinctively looking at his body for any sign of cracks. It's not as if there would be any, but he had a feeling that in some timeline, he was just a pile of broken bones. Sans shook his head, standing up to leave his room. He'd clean it later. He swore he would.

As he exited, he looked down to see his brother smile up at him. Papyrus was as rowdy as usual, but Sans didn't mind. He was happy that his brother was alive, but he got a gut feeling that his brother wasn't alive somewhere else. Maybe he was right, but that didn't matter now.

He walked downstairs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sat beside his brother. He leaned on Papyrus, not having to say a word for his brother to recognise that he wanted his attention. He was a lazybones, but that was fine. As long as it wasn't all the time.

Sans stared at the TV, wondering if there was something he had left behind. A timeline that killed him, or a place in which he had been to but now had no memory of. Perhaps a piece of him was left somewhere. 

Of course, he was never to know of the looming father figure beside him, paying close attention to his every move with a demon that was just as transparent. The father nodded, giving the demon a small pat on the head before turning back into the realm he came from. Sans didn't need to know about how hard it was to get him here, or how his father had tried incredibly hard to save both his and Papyrus' life.

All Sans needed to worry about was the freedom he was going to receive in the next few days, when a human would arrive into the underground. Their name would be Frisk, but they'd be mistaken for someone else. Their kind and forgiving soul would bring justice to the monsters who had been kept underground for so long, and Sans would finally have the ending he so deserved.