Who Says You're the One in Control?

What Happens when a Monster Gets DETERMINATION?

Asgore walked out of the kitchen with a sigh. Another failed attempt at Butterscotch-cinnamon pie. That, along with everything else that had happened this past week, had sapped Asgore of any strength. He was stretched thin. When he saw Sans pacing the hall with his skull in his hands, he just sighed.

He hadn't expected Sans to wake up for hours.

~

Oh god this can't be happening. Sans paced the hall on the verge of tears. He had reset. He had wanted to fix his mistake and it had sent him back. He had been so close to never feeling anything again. Why was he so damn resilient? It was painfully ironic given his one HP.

Sans wasn't an idiot. He knew what resets meant. He had talked to Frisk about them in detail. He couldn't die. No matter what happened, he could never die. Doing so would send him back to the point where he was waking up in Asgore's bed.

He was still trapped in these god forsaken loops. He gave a pitiful laugh. This was karma. He knew karma, and it was having a hell of a time with him. He groaned and paced more.

How the hell was he going to get out of this? How had he gotten this power to begin with? He knew the answer to that. This was because he had absorbed Frisk's soul. Which he still couldn't even tell he had, if you didn't count the whole coming back from death thing.

Shouldn't he feel it? It was in him, and he knew what it felt like when it was fully activated, so what was going on? He hadn't been able to use it when that damn flower had attacked him, either.

He leaned against a wall and slid to the ground. Putting his hood on, he sighed. He was so tired of living. But then again, if that was true, he wouldn't be here, would he?

"Sans? Are you alright?" Asgore was standing at the end of the hall. Great. How much had the king seen this time?

"peachy." Yeah, that sounded natural, Sans, good job. He didn't care at this point. Asgore just sat next to him with a sigh.

That's right. Asgore was stressing about leading the monsters back to the surface. Sans had been a jerk to him about it, too.

Maybe he should leave. He was obviously not helping, and Asgore looked very tired. Sans got up to go.

"Leaving so soon?"

Sans whipped his head around. That voice was familiar. He couldn't see anyone besides him and Asgore.

"This is the first time I got to see my dad in decades, and you're just going to leave?" There was a laugh afterwards that made him sick. Literally. Skeleton digestive tracts are a difficult matter, and when you're vomiting up magic and hard cider, it's really the last thing you want to explain.

Why couldn't Chara just stay dead? It was like they loved the thought of dying so much they wanted to do it over and over. It was sick. Was this what DETERMINATION did to people? He thought back to the flower. Oh god. Did DETERMINATION turn you into a fucking psycho like that? Like Chara?

Was Sans going to turn out like them? Killing people just because he could? He sank to his knees, leaning on his arms against the wall in front of him. He just wanted to go home.

~

Asgore was completely bewildered. Sans had gone from pacing the halls, to sitting on the ground, to getting sick in a potted plant, to sobbing against a wall. The entire time, he had been muttering to himself, though the king didn't even know if the skeleton had realized it.

He had heard the name Chara several times. Was this how Sans was mourning his brother's death? This was absolutely insane.

When Chara and Asriel had died, Asgore had mourned. Grief, anger, denial, confusion... he had been through it all. Whatever Sans seemed to be going through was on a whole new level. Asgore was pretty sure you weren't supposed to feel all four emotions within five minutes. With him it was more of a process from one to the next that had taken weeks.