Who Says You're the One in Control?

Facing a Demon isn't so Bad after a Hundred Times

"it's a beautiful day outside..." Sans started for what seemed like the hundredth time. He glared at the being in front of him. As "human" as it seemed on the outside, he knew there was no resemblance to the child he had once considered his friend. At first, they might have been mistaken for the peace loving kid that used to traipse around the Underground. Maybe back in Snowdin they could have seemed somewhat similar, but now the demon that had taken this child's body has transformed them into something hardly human at all.

Chara seemed impatient to start. Grumbling under their breath as if Sans was telling them to clean their room, and not judging them for murdering every monster that was too slow to get to safety. Sans might have been ticked off at them if he wasn't already so tired of the fighting.

At first, Sans couldn't kill them fast enough. He wanted to watch them suffer and die over and over. They had. Now, his red hot anger had cooled into a calm hatred. And he was so tired. He didn't want to watch them die anymore, he had seen it plenty. Now, he just wanted them to stay dead. He wanted to go home, and never leave again.

Papyrus. Sans repeated the name in his head over and over. Papyrus. Papyrus was the reason he was here. Not only Papyrus. Chara would kill everyone if they could. They didn't deserve to die only because of the death they had caused, but because of the death they would continue to cause. They would never stop.

The fight wore on for a while, but Chara was still too slow. Too sloppy. They were getting better, though. Memorizing patterns. It seemed as though every time they fought, Chara was lasting longer. They were using less of their health items, too.

Sans knew it was just a matter of time until he died. The idea of death didn't seem all too bad. At least he could rest for a while.The only thing holding him to this world was that look of pure frustration on Chara's face. He wanted them to pay for what they had done, even if it was only in this small way.

Sans finally killed them again. As soon as they were gone, he slumped to the ground and waited. This was his usual pastime between resets. He glanced at their body. It was lying in a mangled heap a few feet away. Their soul was exposed. The first few times he had killed them, he had tried to take the soul to Asgore to cross the barrier with. He had never made it to the throne room. Chara had always reset before he could get that far.

In an instant, Sans was standing behind the pillar. Chara was alive and well at the end of the corridor. They walked towards him. Their pace was as slow as it had been the first time they had walked through here. Sans still felt it was far too slow. Maybe this was their payback for Sans' speech.

"it's a beautiful day outside..." Sans wondered why he even bothered with this. At first, He had forced these words to come out before each battle. It was as much as he could do to keep sane. He had needed the words to keep him from running into the fight without thinking. Even then he had known doing that would get him killed. Now, it seemed more of a tradition.

All his movements were habit, too. He didn't have to think of his attacks, they just came naturally. He felt as if he were merely watching the fight, and not participating in it. The odd detachment was something he was grateful for. He didn't feel nearly as guilty when he was in this state, and he could simply allow the grief over his brother's death fill his mind.

Chara swung at him again. It was a weak attempt. Even for them. Sans couldn't help but see how irritated they looked. They had been grumbling nonstop for the past three resets. He suddenly realized they hadn't gotten very far these past few attempts, either. Sometimes they got into a slump where they would do worse and worse until they finally made a reset where they went back towards the rest of the Underground for a few hours. Like they needed to get away from the battle for a while. Sans hated those runs.

The next few runs were steadily worse. Sans knew they would run off any time now. He didn't care much anymore, but he wanted to get his death over with. He wanted a true reset. He wanted to see Papyrus. Or even just to stay dead. Honestly, that sounded just as good to him.

He spared. He did this every run, and he really didn't understand why. Chara had been curious enough to fall for it once, but never again. So why did he throw it in? He really didn't know. He kinda felt like it was what made him and Chara separate. He spared, she didn't.

Then again, his spare was a trap...

Sans pushed the thought away. Chara still hadn't attacked. He was absolutely in shock when they dropped their knife and started crying. "Sans... I'm so sorry..." He was filled with an instant rage. "I'll never..." He finished his job before they could say anything more.

He glared at the body for a few minutes. His grin finally falling from his face. He was too tired to hold it up anymore. It took him a while to calm down. Chara had never spoken before that run. At least, not since the first time they fought. They had certainly never cried. Why had Sans gotten so mad at it? Why had they said anything? Ugh. Their voice sounded so much like Frisk still.

Sans couldn't wrap his head around it. Chara apologized. Chara had said "sorry". Why? He paced the Final Corridor, waiting for the inevitable reset. This time, he would break conduct. He planned exactly what he was going to say to them. He stopped pacing after a while, and sat against a pillar. He wanted to be sure he knew exactly what he wanted to ask them, and depending on how they responded, he would live or die this next reset.

~

Sans woke up with a jolt. He half expected Chara to be waiting for him, but when he looked, they were still dead on the floor. How long had he been asleep? Why hadn't Chara reset? This was all new, and uncomfortable. Sans hated it. He didn't want to think anymore.

He walked over to the body slowly, as if they were going to jump up and attack them at any moment. Their soul was intact. He took it, reluctant to leave it sitting there. Just in case it really did come back to life. He waited for the reset for a while more. Sitting against the pillar, he looked at the human soul in his hands.

It was red. Obviously. Frisk's soul had always been red. But Chara's Possession had changed Frisk's pure soul. Inside the soul, Sans could see deep red wisps. They swirled about inside the soul, as if they wanted to devour all the purity the soul held. Despite how messed up it was, it looked beautiful. The dark tint was Chara, as far as Sans could tell. He stared into the soul, mesmerized by the beauty. How could something so evil look so pretty? How could the person he had fought god knows how many times fill him with so much serenity when he looked into the soul they had possessed?

He pushed the thought aside, and thought about Frisk. Allowing himself to think about the first few runs. The runs where Frisk seemed happiest. It was true, they had quickly become dissatisfied with the Underground. It was as if they wanted the adventure to be brand new each time. And when it wasn't, they seemed to look for any discrepancy they could get. It had soon led to killing, and now.... this.

Thinking of frisk soon lead to thinking of the only monster who seemed to believe the child could do anything they set their mind to. Papyrus. Thinking about his brother hurt Sans on more levels than one. Still, the memories flooded back. He let them wash over him in mourning. All sense of feeling left his body. Emotional and physical. All that was left was Papyrus. Papyrus was all that mattered. He was all that had ever mattered. Sans knew he was never going to get past His brothers death. He would mourn his brother till he himself died.