Archive of Our Own

It took a lot to lower a monster’s HP cap. Horrific debilitating injuries that followed one throughout their entire life was probably the best-known case. It would instantly drop a monster’s base HP and there was little to be done about getting it back up. Losing a limb was probably a fair example of that one. 

Then there were chronic illnesses that slowly chipped off a monster’s max HP until it was either treated or they Fell Down and turned to Dust. Those were harder to detect at first, because the monster’s HP would fluctuate before the actual cap started going down. It was a slow and agonizing process, as the Snowdrake family could attest.

What most people tended to forget was that HP actually stood for HoPe. The ability to look forward to the future. Not to say that keeping hope would’ve saved someone’s HP from depleting in the case of illness or injury, because unfortunately things simply didn’t work that way. But it did mean that one’s outlook on life greatly mattered amongst monsters.

It was exceedingly rare, but when a monster’s depression and apathy ran thickly through their very SOUL over an extended period of time, that could also lower their maximum HP. Usually, this was something that was noticed and handled long before it became a fatal issue, but Sans was a bit of a special case.

After all, how could anyone notice when it occurred during a time loop? He was sure that it would look laughably unrealistic from an outsider’s perspective. Fine one day—with a maximum HP of… what had it been back then? Sixty? One hundred and fifty? It’d been so long he couldn’t really recall. But the next moment, he’d be walking around with an HP of one. It’d be ludicrous to think it could drop that quickly—and indeed, it had decreased over a long period of time—but Sans couldn’t exactly say that he’d lived several hopeless years repeating the same stretch of time over and over, now could he?

Besides, there was no point in talking about it with anyone. Anything they did to try to help him would be rendered useless by the next RESET regardless, so it was better for everyone to just enjoy whatever time they had left on the Surface while it lasted.

Perhaps that was the apathy talking. Or maybe it was just a bad excuse for being lazy. His HP had been steadily deteriorating for a long time anyway. It used to hover around an impressive 1780 back when he was a Royal Scientist. Then the Core Implosion Incident occurred and his HP cap literally halved. He was pretty sure that incident fell under the ‘extreme bodily harm’ category of an HP cap drop.

Even still, 890 wasn’t bad at all, considering most monsters hovered between 20 and 80. 890 was still considered ‘boss monster’ range, not that Sans ever considered himself a boss monster, even before his ATK started to drop.

And that was another thing that people usually didn’t realize. Usually, a drop in someone’s ATK was a result of not keeping up on training, or letting themselves get out of shape. A drop in DEF was nearly unheard of—even less common than someone’s max HP dropping.

But the Core incident? Somehow had knocked Sans’ defense down to one . He had theories on why—that it had something to do with himself being incomplete as part of his being was erased with the rest of his friends—but there were no ways to prove anything. Not that he really cared much about that. His energy was better spent trying to find a way to get them back .

And for a while, that was his area of concentration. Sans was certain he could find a way to fix things. He still had more than enough Hope.

Until Flowey.

His HP steadily went down throughout Flowey’s timeline shenanigans. It was hard to stay optimistic when any progress made on anything was erased without warning. As his HP fell, Sans realized that his ATK dropped too.

Sans fully understood when his HP hit 150 that things were getting severely out of hand, but thankfully his brother hadn’t really known his original stats to begin with, and 150 was still fairly respectable, especially for a monster as ‘lazy’ as him. Flowey ended up stopping his obscene abuse of the timeline around that point, and Sans had breathed a tentative sigh of relief.

He could work with what he had. He could work back towards whatever progress had been lost on his project and his life once those RESETs stopped. And for a while, things were actually pretty okay.

Then Frisk fell.

When the kid first appeared, things were fine. Even for the first few RESETs (something that had unnerved Sans quite badly, to know the power still existed) because while Sans didn’t know how that power functioned at the time, he could tell the kid wasn’t using it maliciously like Flowey.

It wasn’t until after everyone had reached the Surface and things still got RESET that he noticed himself slipping again. At first he was rightly angry with the kid—angry and confused, because why would they do this after everyone had gotten out all right? 

He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. Frisk was his friend. Perhaps there was something going on that he was unaware of, someone else that they needed to save? Maybe it had something to do with Flowey.

But after a half dozen LOADs and another full RESET, something… changed.

The kid was different, in a very bad way.

If asked, Sans could confidently say that it was the Genocide Runs that did him in. Even during that last trip to the Surface, his HP was still about 60 or so. But after that first Geno-run? Well, all his stats matched now.

He was one stiff breeze from Falling Down, and he knew it. Technically, if it wasn’t for the Determination in his marrow, he would’ve already been dead. Monsters whose base HP dropped below ten usually didn’t wake up again. The fact that he was functioning normally was entirely because of his stubbornness and his Determination.

Well, that and he couldn’t possibly leave his brother alone. Even if he had to pull an Undyne the Undying, he wouldn’t leave his brother alone in the world.

But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care much about his stats anymore. What was the point when it was all going to be RESET again? Whether he remembered it or not—and it was looking like remembering was a thing of his now, unfortunately—nothing he did mattered anymore.

Not going to work, eating, sleeping, his nightmares, none of it mattered. The only thing that he kept himself awake for was his brother. Because he couldn’t bear to leave him alone in the world. He refused.

Even if everything else in the world had lost its meaning to him, Papyrus would always be important. No matter how many times he died.

Despite it all though, Sans was tired. The kind of exhaustion that pulled at his very SOUL. It was always gnawing at him, tempting him to take a nap and never wake up again.

One year, was it? This was the longest stretch they’d had on the Surface, and Sans was getting sick of waiting for Frisk to get bored of the world and start all over again. He was doing his best to enjoy what he could while it lasted—taking long naps in the sunlight, charting out the stars on clear nights until he was certain he could accurately recreate the starmaps when he was back Underground, even going to the library on the Surface and devouring books of all kinds. He was doing everything he could to enjoy things that would stay even when time was RESET. Because whatever knowledge he gained from whatever he read wouldn’t be lost. Not when he remembered.

Even still, nothing changed. The world was allowed to continue in a singular forward motion that he’d long since fallen out of practice with keeping track of. Something his brother had begun to notice.

Sans blinked his eyesockets hard, trying to shove the pounding in his skull and the exhaustion that sat heavily beneath the Determination in his bones behind the thick wall of apathy that suffocated his life. There was sunlight streaming in through his window, so he’d either managed to doze off for a bit without nightmares or dreams, or he’d spent the entire night staring at his ceiling again.

Not that it mattered either way, he’d still be tired even if he did sleep. It was just a matter of how much his eyesockets burned and how many of his thoughts could be strung into a linear map of coherency.

With another long sigh, he heaved himself out of bed and threw on the first semi-clean clothing he saw, finishing off the haphazard outfit of shorts and a t-shirt with his signature blue jacket. When he deemed himself presentable enough for the day, he trudged downstairs towards the kitchen.

“SANS, YOU LAZYBONES! WERE YOU NAPPING AGAIN?!” Papyrus greeted him when he finally pulled himself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Toriel was already at the stove finishing up breakfast. Frisk sleepily made their way into the room, followed by a bright-eyed Undyne and an Alphys that looked half as groggy as Sans felt.

“uh, i think that’s just called sleeping, bro.” He used some blue magic to float a cup over to the coffee machine and make himself something to keep him relatively alert of his surroundings. It was in his hand a moment later, and he took a nice long sip—it was pleasantly warm, which meant it would likely be scalding to those who had more flesh than bone. “you should try it sometime. you’ll feel bed- ter after you’ve gotten some rest.”

“I GET PLENTY OF REST!” Papyrus defended himself, shooting him a displeased look for his half-assed pun. “A FULL FOUR HOURS! UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO NAPS FOR EIGHT! EVERY NIGHT!”

“I think most people need eight hours a night.” Alphys interjected as she lifted her glasses to rub at her eyes.

“glad we’ve cleared that up, alphs. i’d hate to make a spectacle of things.”

Toriel muffled a laugh. “As much as I’d hate to break up this egg-celent banter, breakfast is ready.”

Frisk hopped out of their chair at once to help Toriel carry things to the table, and Sans portioned out just enough onto his plate to keep people from worrying. He eyed the kid out of the corner of his eyesocket. They didn’t seem discontent. He couldn’t see any hint of them preparing to RESET the world again.

Then again, it wasn’t like Sans ever had a warning before. Well, he supposed it didn’t matter. Wasn’t like he could change anything even if he tried, so he might as well enjoy what he could while it lasted.

He was going to miss Toriel’s cooking.

Papyrus was worried. Beyond worried, actually, he was… Quite possibly on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Because he wasn’t sure what to do anymore.

He’d realized it sometime in Snowdin that his brother’s HP cap was dropping. That was when he started to get into cooking. Perhaps he was ill and just didn’t want to tell anyone? Maybe if Papyrus could make him healthy foods instead of the grease-trap that was Grillby’s, he’d start to recover? Well, that was what he’d thought at first.

It… seemed to help? A little. It stopped dropping, at least. Though a bit of research into the topic showed that the lack of fluctuation of Sans’ HP—the main part, not the cap—meant that he probably wasn’t actually ill. But Papyrus also didn’t see any major injuries on his brother, and he really didn’t want to believe that his brother was in such a bad place emotionally and mentally that it’d lower his stats\.

But… things had calmed down. Sans’ stats stabilized and things seemed to return to some sort of state of normalcy. They were hovering somewhere in the three digit realm, and while a DEF of 1 was definitely concerning, his brother was very good at dodging.

Papyrus had full faith in his brother’s ability to take care of himself. He’d raised Papyrus, after all, so surely his brother knew what he was doing!

But then the Human Frisk fell. Papyrus didn’t have the chance to check his brother’s stats with everything going on, and while his brother acted like things were fine, the younger skeleton could tell—there was something dragging his brother down into a very dark place.

He was ashamed to say he was also too scared to check those stats. Terrified that he’d see the number declining yet again, leaving him to flounder in uncertainty and anxiety.

When they got to the Surface, Papyrus had high hopes. Surely that meant everything would be fine! If it was a sickness, then Sans could get help! He knew it wasn’t a sickness by this point, but things would be so much easier if it was something that could be cured with some soup or a good medicine. Or… if it was something less physical, then… then surely being free would fix everything!

But it wasn’t getting better. Papyrus had checked his stats merely a month or so after their freedom, while his brother was napping, and he’d felt like his SOUL had shattered. 

* Sans — ATK 1  DEF 1  HP 1

* He is very tired

1 HP

One.

One. Hope. Point.

Monsters had Fallen Down with more HP than that. One HP wasn’t just Falling Down anymore, it was… it was Dusting. His brother was just a stapes’ width away from Dusting. Even here on the Surface, where Sans could see that beautiful night sky he’d longed for since they were both babybones, his hope was gone.

Papyrus wasn’t ashamed to say he’d sobbed himself to sleep in his bedroom that night. It was an utterly terrifying and SOUL-crushing realization that he could lose his brother at any moment. That one day he could wake up and… and he’d just be gone. That there was nothing he could do, no way to prepare, nothing to… to prevent it.

Every morning, he held his breath—would his brother come downstairs today? Or would today be the day that he finally trudged up there to wake him up only to find a pile of Dust? His SOUL stuttered every time he knocked on his brother’s door and the silence stretched just a soulbeat too long.

Papyrus tried to help. Oh by the Stars, he TRIED. He dragged his brother around to new places to get him out of the house—changes of pace and scenery like the beach, or a museum, or the movies. He spent as much time with him as he could, trying to spark something in Sans’ gaze other than fond apathy. He tried to get his brother to open up and talk about what was bothering him, but he’d be brushed off with bad puns and excuses every time.

Nothing was working. Nothing was making his brother’s HP tick up again, and Papyrus was terrified.

He’d once tried bringing the issue up to Sans directly—hoping that displaying his fear to his brother would kick his coccyx in gear and he’d tell him something.

But Sans had merely given him a sad smile and a long warm hug saturated in comforting intent. “it’ll be fine, bro. you’ll see. i’m not going anywhere.” Was all he’d said. It hadn’t escaped Papyrus’ notice that he didn’t promise anything. 

That had been months ago. And while things hadn’t necessarily gotten worse (it was hard to get worse than 1 HP without Dusting), they also hadn’t gotten better. And Papyrus was at the end of his proverbial rope. Patience was his brother’s thing, not Papyrus’.

He didn’t want to lose the only family he had left. He couldn’t lose Sans. He refused.

So, after sending his brother off to run some errands with Toriel (and Papyrus knew full well that his brother was going to take another nap somewhere, and Toriel would probably let him, but he wouldn’t be alone, which meant that hopefully he’d still have a brother by the end of the day), he pulled Alphys aside.

“Papyrus?” The scientist blinked at him in confusion. “C-can I… um… help you with something?” Undyne had paused as well, looking at the skeleton with confusion.

“I… HAVE SOMETHING I NEED TO ASK OF YOU.” Papyrus hated that his voice broke as he spoke, and he noted the way Undyne startled at the sound. She’d never seen him like this before, he realized. Sans was the only one who had ever seen Papyrus actually break , and he knew full well that he couldn’t address this topic without shedding a few tears at the very least. “I NEED YOUR HELP.” He blinked hard, feeling the orange tears trickle down his cheekbones, leaving thin lines of Bravery on his face that he definitely didn’t feel in that moment. “I CAN'T… NOT ANYMORE. NOT ALONE.” He held his breath for a moment, trying to hold off the sobs that threatened to wrack his frame.

“Woah, Papyrus.” Undyne’s hands were on his shoulders, guiding him to the couch at once. Distantly, he was glad it was only the three of them home right now. “What the hell’s wrong?”

He took some shuddering breaths. “IT'S… I’M SO SCARED I'LL LOSE HIM, ALPHYS. IT’S SANS.”

The two stiffened at the way his magic flooded the room at the name. Monsters often used their magic, saturated with emotions, to calm one another down—at least among close friends and family. Sometimes it was used to impress a certain severity in a situation, as Papyrus was unintentionally doing here.

He hadn’t meant for them to feel his terror, his pain at having to watch his brother deteriorate to this point, and he capped his magic the moment he realized it’d slipped out.

“Papyrus.” Alphys’ voice was low and strong, and he felt her magic settle around him in something that was mildly soothing and unbearably urgent. “What’s wrong with Sans?” Even Undyne looked a little frightened at how Papyrus was acting, but he couldn’t blame her. He always made it a point to present only his best self to the Captain of the Royal Guard.

None of that mattered when Sans was in danger, though. Papyrus would give up even his dream of joining the Guard if that meant his brother would be okay.

“HAVE…” Papyrus ran a hand down his face, bones clacking in the silent room. “HAVE YOU SEEN HIS STATS AT ALL LATELY? EVEN ONCE SINCE WE MOVED TO SNOWDIN?”

Alphys startled, sharing a bewildered look with Undyne. Obviously neither had expected the question. “Uh… not since he worked at the lab.”

“Wait, that lazy bag of bones worked at your lab?” Undyne whipped about to stare at Alphys. Papyrus clenched his teeth. His brother was not lazy! Well… maybe he was, but not like that! Only Papyrus could call his brother lazy, because he was trying desperately to get his brother to change that before he Fell Down and—

“A-actually, Sans was the one who hired me.” Alphys scratched at her head, unintentionally snapping Papyrus out of his thoughts. “He was a Royal Scientist long before I was. B-but that’s not the point here. That was a while ago. Is something wrong with Sans’ stats?”

Papyrus choked out a sob. “IT'S ONE.” He whispered, slightly despairing when they both stared at him with confusion. “SANS’ HP…” he continued, watching as their eyes widened with dawning horror, “IS ONE.”

There was a beat of utter silence—he couldn’t even hear anyone’s SOUL humming in the wake of his words.

“Th-that can’t be…” Alphys was dangerously pale. “Wh-when a monster’s HP Cap drops to ten, they… they fall asleep.” They Fall Down. Papyrus didn’t need her to dance around the topic. “They can’t… can’t move anymore.” They didn’t have the strength to move anymore. “And… Five’s when… when families are called in to…”

To say their final goodbyes. 

Stars, it’d never really hit Papyrus so hard until that moment—it’d never felt so real. Sans was dying. He couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking, his breath from hitching and catching in his nonexistent throat in sobs that he desperately tried to keep quiet and failed utterly in doing so. After five, they usually fell asleep and just… never woke up again. The truth of the matter that Papyrus had been running away from was that Sans should’ve already been dead by this point. He shouldn’t be up and about, making horrible puns and napping in the sunlight. He shouldn’t be able to go out and run errands with Toriel or join them at breakfast to hide whoopie cushions on chairs.

Sans shouldn’t have even been awake anymore.

The thought of it all, the realism of it, hurt his SOUL more than he’d like to admit. His brother was a walking impossibility in so many ways, but this was one that terrified Papyrus out of his wits. One Hope Point. Stars, that shouldn’t have been possible. Was there even a way to recover from that?!

Any single ‘nap’ his brother took could be the last time he saw his brother alive. Any halfhearted jape or idle banter could be the last thing he said to him. Any careless lecture to pick up that damned sock…

Papyrus really did not want his last words to his brother to be an argument over a stupid sock.

He wasn’t sure if he appreciated the arm that Undyne awkwardly looped around his shoulders, or if it pissed him off. Because he didn’t want her there, comforting him. He wanted his brother. He needed his brother right now. He needed to assure himself that Sans was okay, that he was just making a big deal out of literally nothing, and that this wasn’t what he thought it was and he’d wake up an everything would be—

Papyrus would even wish that the Surface was a dream if it meant his brother was okay. 

“I… Are you sure you saw his stats right?” Alphys’ voice cut through his emotional turmoil like a slap to the face.

“OF COURSE I’M SURE!” Papyrus snapped, browbones angling down into an expression of anger he hardly ever wore. “DO YOU THINK, IF I HAD ANY DOUBTS, I’D BE HERE LIKE THIS RIGHT NOW?!” He spat the words through his ochre tears, anger and fear swirling inside him, fueled by desperation and despair. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost a few HP from his cap after this conversation.

He didn’t dwell on the thought that he really wouldn’t mind losing HP himself if his brother actually Fell.

“I-I’m sorry, Papyrus.” Alphys held up her hands in surrender. “I-I-I didn’t mean it that way. I just… If his HP really is only one, then he shouldn’t be… he shouldn’t even be awake, let alone out running e-errands.”

“I KNOW THAT.” Papyrus took a shaky breath, the fight leaving him almost as quickly as it came. “I know that.” He whispered somewhat brokenly. “EVERY MORNING, I’M TERRIFIED THAT HE WON'T COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST. THAT I'LL GO UPSTAIRS TO WAKE HIM UP AND... AND HE WON'T BE THERE ANYMORE. O-OR HE'LL TAKE ONE OF THOSE NAPS OF HIS AND JUST... NEVER WAKE UP AGAIN. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HE SLEEPS THESE DAYS?” His hands were shaking so fiercely that his bones were clacking against one another. “I KNOW HE HAS NIGHTMARES. I DON'T THINK HE SLEEPS EIGHT HOURS AT NIGHT, BUT HE NAPS ALL THE TIME. HE'S ALWAYS SO TIRED AND... AND... HE WON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT IT!”

“Hey, you’ve got us to help you now.” Undyne’s voice startled him out of his spiraling thoughts. “If anyone can help, it’s Alphys!” She pressed something into his hand, and the skeleton blankly stared down at the steaming cup of tea. He didn’t remember her getting up to make anything, but maybe he was too wrapped up in his head to realize it. 

He took a tentative sip, somewhat surprised to find that she’d loaded it with sugar—something he personally adored but Undyne herself always scoffed at. He felt some of his magic calm a bit at the familiar heat. “I… THANK YOU. FOR LISTENING.”

“We’ll do everything we can to help.” Alphys reassured him. “I… If his HP has dropped like this, then it might be some kind of sickness.”

“I THOUGHT THAT TOO, AT FIRST.” He took another long drink from his cup. The heat pooled in his core like lava, soothing and grounding. “BUT I READ THAT WHEN HP CAPS GO DOWN FOR ILLNESSES, THEIR HP ITSELF WILL FLUCTUATE. SANS’ IS ALWAYS FULL. EVEN BEFORE IT DROPPED TO ONE.” He hesitated a moment. “IT WENT FROM ABOUT SIXTY TO ONE IN... A REMARKABLY SHORT TIME. I THINK... MAYBE A FEW MONTHS? PERHAPS LESS?”

The two startled at that. “That fast?” Alphys gnawed at her lip. “Yeah… that seems like an impossibly steep drop in… in Hope.”

“Well, isn’t that an easier fix than an illness?!” Undyne looked between the two with uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Not necessarily.” Alphys winced. “Because that means that Sans has no hope for the future. For some reason, he… he doesn’t see the point in living anymore.”

Papyrus jumped when a resounding CRACK echoed in the room. He stared blankly at the crack in his thankfully empty cup. “O-OH DEAR. I-I’M SORRY.”

“No, it… it’s all right.” Undyne gently took the cup from him and traced the crack with her claw. “D’ya think we should tell the others about this?”

Alphys winced. “For um… situations like this, it’s recommended to have the whole family in the loop. I-if we want to help Sans get his Hope back, we, um… we all need to work together to support him.”

Papyrus sagged into the couch, feeling utterly drained. “HE WON'T LIKE IT.” He warned them. “HE’LL BE IRRITATED ENOUGH THAT I'VE TOLD YOU. SANS HAS ALWAYS HATED BEING CODDLED.”

“You let us worry about that.” Undyne shot him a grin. “But you look like you could use a nap.”

Normally, Papyrus would argue. He could run on much less sleep than the average monster, and he’d never been the type to boondoggle when there were more productive uses of his time. But right now, he felt emotionally exhausted. A nap honestly sounded pretty good.

“W-we’ll wake you up when Sans and Toriel come home.” Alphys reassured him, and Papyrus knew that his only argument against some rest was gone.

“ALL RIGHT, THEN. THANK YOU.” He staggered to his feet and numbly climbed the stairs, taking a moment to glance at the two monsters he’d just spilled his SOUL to. He saturated the room in gratitude for a moment, trying to convey how much their help meant to him.

“Get some rest, Papyrus.” Undyne shooed him up the stairs with a smile.

He fell into his racecar bed with a heavy SOUL, and a strange twisting apprehension in his gut. He wasn’t sure if sleep would come for him, but for once he decided to try.

Frisk wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Everyone was gathered in the living room except Papyrus and Sans, and Dr. Alphys looked incredibly serious. Was someone hurt?

“You said you had something urgent to talk to us about?” Asgore gently set Flowey’s pot down on the table, and Frisk was quick to pick him up, earning a petulant glare from the soulless flower. Chara, invisible to everyone but Frisk, snickered lightly at the interaction.

“Y-yes.” Alphys’ hands shook, and Undyne gently rubbed her arm to comfort her. “Um… Papyrus brought it to my attention, and after a Check from myself, I…” She took a breath. “It’s Sans.”

The room’s apprehension spiked. Frisk’s heart skipped a hard beat. They knew Sans had only 1 HP—even the slightest bit of ill intent in a light smack could Dust him. Had he been hurt? Was he…

“Smiley Trashbag?” Flowey scoffed. “What’s he done now?”

Alphys shot the flower a glare, and it was more than a little startling to see such a fierce expression on the gentle monster. “He’s very sick.” The words weren’t what anyone had expected to hear.

“Sick?” Toriel sucked in a breath. “Oh dear, how bad are we talking? I can make some pie to—”

“Not like that.” Alphys cut her off softly. “Sans… His HP is one.”

Frisk didn’t understand why everyone stilled at those words. Why even Flowey flinched back with a soft rustle of leaves and petals. They glanced at Chara, who looked just as lost as them.

“Hasn’t it always been one?” Frisk didn’t know why they’d asked, but going off the way a few monsters startled, it seemed the question had been unexpected.

“Dear…” Toriel’s expression crumbled. “HP is a monster’s Hope. If that gets too low…”

“They Fall Down—they die.” Flowey’s voice was harsh, but Frisk thought they detected a hint of worry. “Most monsters start to Fall Down if their HP cap lowers to ten. Five if they’re really lucky. Anything below that and they just… don’t wake up. Then they’re Dust.”

Frisk felt hot and cold all over. Sans was… dying? No, no, he’d had one HP for as long as Frisk had known him. And he’d always seemed fine! There was no way that he was… that he’d…

“I Checked him myself. It’s really one. One Attack, One Defense, One Hope Point.” Alphys took a shaky breath.

“What does that… that mean though? How do we…” Frisk blinked the tears from their eyes.

“We’ve gotta give him hope, somehow.” Undyne crossed her arms. “Seems like for whatever reason, Sans has no hope for the future. He’s beyond depressed, straight to the point of apathetic, I think. He sleeps all the time, and if Papyrus hadn’t pointed it out to me I never would’ve noticed. He said it’s been going on since Snowdin. One day his HP just… suddenly dropped to one. Nobody knows if something happened and he’s just not talking about it or what, but he needs help.”

Something in Frisk’s blood went cold. “When I Fell.” It was a horrifying realization. They’d always thought that Sans had found out about the timeline thing by reading his data charts or whatever. He only mentioned them on those horrible Dustruns—the time that Chara had been… very much not Chara, and had overtaken Frisk’s body. That was the only time Sans had spoken about anomalies and timelines, but he always talked about it like he’d drawn those theories from some kind of data.

He’d never mentioned it during any of their other runs, and… and Frisk had thought that meant that Sans had just never bothered to check the readings or something. That he was just as unaware as everyone else.

But… if what Alphys was saying was correct, then… then this was Frisk’s fault. Because if Sans’ HP seemed to drop to one overnight, then that sounded a lot like something that happened because nobody else was aware of the manipulation of the timeline. And if Sans was, then of course he would be…

“No, dear. It wasn’t your fault.” Toriel soothed, but Frisk pulled away from the hug she tried to give them.

“I always knew the Smiley Trashbag knew more than he let on.” Flowey turned towards the stairs. “Isn’t that right?”

Frisk’s head whipped up to see Sans and Papyrus making their way downstairs.

“wow, a whole intervention for little ‘ol me? i’m touched.” Sans gave a somewhat hollow chuckle. “guess you all saw right through me.”

“BROTHER…” Papyrus looked heartbroken. “PLEASE DON'T JOKE ABOUT THIS.”

“sorry, paps. couldn’t pass up the o-pun-tunity.” His eyelights flickered across the group. “what’s with all the long faces? i’m right here, you know?”

“Sans…” Alphys’ voice broke along his name. “How much…”

“did i hear? enough.” He shrugged as he sat on the couch with his brother. “but you’re all making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. so i’ve got 1 HP. i’m not about to fall down or anything, i’ve got a few tricks. i won’t be going anywhere anytime soon so don’t worry.”

“You cannot seriously be telling us not to worry!” Alphys whisper-shrieked—something Frisk didn’t know she could do. “Sans, you could Dust any second! ”

“hey, remember that lab accident when you were just an apprentice?” Sans gave her a lazy smile. “yeah, i’ve got some Determination in my bones. turns out that even with 1 HP, that little bit of DT can still do quite a bit. i won’t fall down from just this, so don’t worry.”

“Wait, you mean that stuff that made the Amalgamates?!” Undyne shot up from her seat. “You’re not about to melt on us, are you?!”

“i’ve had it for years, no need to get your gills in a twist.”

“SANS.” Papyrus’ voice was soft and firm.

“Smiley Trashbag, you are not helping your situation.” Flowey sent him a very flat look.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you are Falling Down.” Alphys shook her head fiercely as she blinked moisture from her eyes. “Sans. You are dying. Please, please, let us help you.”

“i’m not…” Sans took a moment to look at all of them. After a long moment, his shoulders sagged. It was the same expression Frisk remembered him having at the end of those Dustruns. That horrible hollow look of someone who had given up entirely. “it’s fine. there’s nothing to do about it. i’ll still be here, so there’s no point in worrying.”

Even Flowey seemed bothered by the apathy in his voice. “Never thought I’d see you like this.”

For a moment, something burning flashed in Sans’ eyelights. “heh. you say that like you weren’t part of the problem.”

“So you do remember.” Flowey’s eyes widened as his grin became something sharp and filled with teeth.

“You… actually remember?” Frisk’s voice pierced whatever tension there was between the flower and skeleton. Their hands were shaking and tears trickled down their cheeks, but the flash of fear and recognition in Sans’ eyelights told them all they needed to know. They’d known it was a strong possibility—had been thinking about it since they realized what his having one singular HP meant—but it hadn’t really sunken in until… until now. “I… I’m sorry, Sans. This was…”

Warm arms wrapped around them, the softness of Sans’ jacket soothed them in a way that they had no right being soothed. “no, kiddo. you didn’t know. i didn’t let you know.” Sans’ words were a knife to their SOUL. “i know those bad ones weren’t you. so don’t go apologizing for those. but, kid… i gotta ask.” He drew back to stare at them, eyelights boring into them with an eerie intensity that they’d only seen from him in the Hall. “why ? every time we came here, every happy ending, just... why.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Papyrus looked between Frisk and Sans with confusion.

Frisk took a deep breath, even as they felt Sans move to make some kind of excuse. “I have a power I didn’t tell anyone about.”

“HEY! You aren’t seriously gonna tell them?!” Flowey jerked back.

“kid, you don’t h—”

“I do, Sans! I hurt you, and that’s not okay. I… I never knew that… no, even that doesn’t make it right.” Frisk hiccuped, even as Sans kept an arm wrapped around them. Magic pressed down around them, like a warm hug of protection. It felt like snow and ketchup and bad laughs. A distant part of it crackled like the magic of the golden hallway.

“FRISK?” Papyrus looked very lost.

“It… it didn’t exist before I fell into the Underground.” They bit their lip. “I started seeing these glowing golden stars—Save points—and I learned that if… if I died, I could just… go back to that Save Point. I could… I could do it all over again and nobody would know.” They kept their gaze on the floor, even as they felt Sans stiffen beside them. “I wasn’t very good at dodging at first. And it took me a little bit to understand that fighting back was a bad thing. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get past Asgore without one of us…” They dug their nails into their palms. “So I RESET—I went back to when I first Fell. I tried again and again, but no matter what I did I couldn’t find a way to save everyone.”

“You… you died?” Toriel’s whisper was saturated in pain.

“I came back.” They explained, and they were immensely grateful when Sans pressed a warm mug of hot cocoa into their hands. He must’ve made it with his magic, because he’d never gotten up from his seat beside them. “It doesn’t matter. The point is that… we got to the Surface. Just like this. But… I’ve… got a friend.” They glanced at Chara who rolled her eyes with a huff.

“Fine. Whatever, just tell them. Not like it’ll change anything.” 

“Her name is Chara.” Frisk saw Asgore and Toriel jolt at the name. “She’s a ghost that’s been with me since I first Fell. And… and she’s like my sister. So when she asked me to find a way to Save her too, I… I RESET again. I thought, ‘nobody would know the difference. I’ll just find a way to fix this and then redo that last run to get everyone their freedom again!’. I thought…”

“kid, you can stop now. i’ve got my answer.” Sans gently patted their head.

“No, I…” They sniffled. “You deserve to know, Sans. Out of everyone, you were the one who…”

“kiddo. i don’t blame you.”

“HOLD ON… ARE YOU SAYING… SANS, YOU WERE AWARE OF THIS?” Papyrus spoke up.

“heh… kinda hard to look forward to a future when you know this’ll all eventually be RESET in the end.” He shrugged. “not that i blame the kiddo. they didn’t know. i didn’t let them know that i was aware.”

And oh, that made a terrifying amount of sense. If HP was someone’s hope for the future, then what hope could someone possibly have when they had no future to look forward to?

“You still think this’ll be Reset.” Alphys’ tone was borderline accusatory, and Frisk’s eyes widened. 

“NO!” They whipped their head up to stare at Sans who refused to meet their gaze. “I won’t! I’m done with them, I swear! I promise, Sans! No more Resets! No more. I… I won’t…” Oh, they were crying now. Because they could tell—they could see it, clear as day, that Sans didn’t believe them. This whole time, for the whole year they’d been on the Surface, Sans had been silently waiting for a RESET to take everything away from him.

And it was Frisk’s fault.

“i really wish i could believe that, kiddo.” There was no malice in his tone, no anger or bitterness. There was just a deep regret, a sorrow that Frisk hadn’t expected to find. The words cut them deep. Their SOUL ached at the dead tone he’d used, distantly wistful, like someone who’d forgotten how to dream.

But it made sense. Sans couldn’t trust them. Not after all of this. Certainly not after that. “There was this one timeline.” Frisk’s voice trembled and they felt Sans stiffen. “I don’t know what happened. Something… weird latched onto Chara, and… and she was her, but she wasn’t. It was like I was watching a… a horror film or something. The… the thing that had taken over Chara shoved me out of my body and… it killed everyone.” Their whisper silenced the room. 

“kid, you don’t need to talk about those ones.”

“You deserve to know.” Frisk shook their head. “And so do they.”

“Hold up. I don’t remember this!” Flowey sounded distinctly offended, and Frisk resisted the urge to snort.

“To be fair, I don’t remember most of those Dustruns either.” They shrugged. “I remember the first one pretty well, and the last one, but I have no idea about anything in between. I don’t know if I blacked it out or what.”

“you probably did. and i wouldn’t blame you for it, either. it’s probably for the best if you don’t remember them much, it’s not like those sins are yours.”

“YEAH! YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T IN CONTROL.” Papyrus gave them a thumbs up. “THAT'S NOT YOUR FAULT. THOUGH I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, IT SOUNDS LIKE IT WAS BEYOND YOUR CONTROL!”

“I… I don’t know either. I just… I know that whenever that thing was killed it got a little… weaker? I think? Undyne gave it a lot of trouble, but nobody gave it as much hell as Sans. I… I’ve never seen him so angry before.”

“heh… well, that thing did kill my bro.” Sans’ breath was a little unsteady, and Frisk saw Papyrus jerk back in his seat at the words. “i think i was allowed to be a little agitated.” He paused. “it almost sounds like a case of soul corruption.” 

“Oh…” Alphys held a hand to her muzzle. “That… but how?”

“What’s… soul corruption?” Frisk was hesitant to ask, but they felt like they needed to know. Chara was also watching the conversation intensely.

“When something saturated in negative emotions latches onto a SOUL and taints it, we call that Soul Corruption.” Alphys explained softly. “It’s… incredibly rare. But since… um… Chara is… uh, just a spirit, she may have been more susceptible to it. I don’t understand where all that negative emotion could’ve come from though… From the sounds of it, i-it must’ve been really powerful.”

“The stupid Barrier.” Flowey’s voice was bitter as always, but his words were firm. “You really think the six human SOULs that made that thing up wouldn’t have enough hatred for monsterkind to corrupt a spirit? Those Genocides happened after the first time we all made it to the Surface—the first time that Barrier broke. It makes sense if that corruption latched onto Chara and sat dormant for a run or two before taking over.”

Alphys nodded along hesitantly. “That… is a solid theory.”

“so anything weird about chara now? i know it’s been a year since we broke the barrier.” Sans’ words startled a few people in the room.

“You mean she’s still here?” Toriel’s voice carried a tone of desperation.

“I… she’s always here.” Frisk ignored Chara’s petulant glare. “Um… and she’s normal now. She’s not… corrupted anymore. I… I’m sorry. I never should’ve RESET that first time. If I hadn’t been so selfish…”

“It was not your fault, my child.” Toriel wrapped them in a tight embrace, leaving Sans to catch the half-filled mug of cocoa with his magic. “You are safe now. I am sorry I was unable to protect you.”

“Yeah, real safe surrounded by a bunch of people who’ve killed them at least once each.” Flowey grinned as a few monsters stiffened. “Oh, you didn’t think about that? I think the only ones who haven’t directly killed the brat are Smiley Trashbag and his brother. Alphys’ Amalgamates certainly did a fair job on her behalf, and so did that stupid robot she had working for her.” Flowey snickered, opening his mouth to say more when he froze. It took Frisk a moment to realize Sans was using his magic to silence the flower.

“i think that’s enough, buddy. i’m sure you remember what happens when you push my buttons. one hp is plenty to deal with you.”

“Hold on.” Undyne leaned forward with interest. “I mean, we’re definitely circling back to what the flower said, but… earlier you said Sans was the one who gave that corruption thing the hardest time?”

Frisk nodded. “You managed to kill it about 40 times. But Sans? About 127 on average. And it didn’t go much lower than that.”

“But it’s Sans!” She gestured wildly to the skeleton that sat calmly on the couch. Frisk held back a laugh. If they’d never seen Sans fight, they’d be agreeing with Undyne too.

“hey, i resemble that statement.” Sans chuckled. “but just because you’ve never seen me fight doesn’t mean i can’t if i need to.”

“MY BROTHER REALLY IS THE COOLEST!” Papyrus beamed.

“nah. i was just… doing what i had to, i guess. you’re the cool one, bro.”

Frisk let the conversation wash over them for a while. They let their family reassure them that they didn’t hate them. They let the monsters talk about what Frisk had revealed and come to terms with it. Sans was markedly quiet.

Eventually, the conversation circled back towards the original topic of the night—Sans’ health.

“Well, at least we can understand how things got to this point.” Alphys gave a heavy sigh. “But I have another concern now.” She turned her attention towards Sans, who stiffened lightly. “You remember. Including those… um… other timelines.” Frisk saw the way Sans’ hand migrated to his neck, as if reaching for a scarf that was no longer there. “Dare I ask how your SOUL is holding up after something like that?”

Sans cringed, so Frisk took that to mean ‘very much not great’.

“uh… might be for the best if you don’t.” He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and leaned against Papyrus. “let’s go back to talking about… uh, literally anything else.”

“BROTHER…” Papyrus sent him a glare that Sans steadfastly ignored.

“Sans.” Alphys leveled him with a steady look that seemed uncharacteristically confident. “Even if you didn’t have any trauma or backlash from that, you are still in a critical state. Medically, you should be comatose right now. Your SOUL’s condition is very important. I’d like to see it, even if you’d rather step into another room.”

“yeah, i know.” Sans sighed. “i may not have majored in SOUL studies like you, but i do know my fair share of things.” He paused for a moment before his shoulders sagged, like he realized there was no point in arguing.

Without much hesitation, he placed a hand over his chest. There was a pulse of magic and a beautiful white light. Frisk had seen Monster SOULs before—usually in those awful Dustruns as they shattered. They were usually upside-down and white as snow with an iridescent shimmer of whatever SOUL Trait they had.

Sans’ Traits were Patience and Justice, so the dual flickers of yellow and cyan were expected. But the rest of it was horribly wrong.

His SOUL was shattered. Chips were flaking off the edges as cracks spider-webbed from the outside in. There were awful jagged edges that had separated from the rest of the SOUL making it look like an unfinished puzzle that was just sitting beside the other pieces. Threads of Determination seemed to be all that was holding the pieces together. Honestly, it looked like someone had caught his SOUL mid-shatter and tried stitching it back together with Determination only to forget to pull the thread tight.

Horror spread around the room, and Sans stared at his own SOUL with mild interest. “huh. don’t think i bothered to check after those genocide runs. didn’t know a SOUL could look like that.” He gently spun it around, as if intrigued by its state instead of horrified. Frisk watched with a stuttering heart as some of the floating bits strayed away at the motion before being tugged gently back into place by the threads of Determination. “guess that explains the pain.” His quiet remark earned him a stare of disbelief from several occupants in the room.

Alphys took a very deep breath. “Sans. You are, right now, defying every single medical and SOUL Studies textbook I have ever read. I am very glad you are alive but your SOUL!” Her voice cracked over the last word.

Sans looked at his own SOUL for a long moment. It looked like he was trying to concentrate on something. Slowly, the threads of Determination started to tighten, pulling his SOUL together again. He winced, but the edges lined up until it looked almost whole again. There were a few chips that were noticeably missing, but it didn’t look like a shattered SOUL in slow motion anymore.

“don’t think it’s un-fixable.” Sans seemed to relax his hold and the pieces floated away from each other again, though not nearly to the same degree of distance that they had been before. “it’d probably fix itself if my hp ever decides to go back up.” He shrugged and recalled his SOUL back into his body.

Alphys gave a heavy sigh. “You’re probably right on that front, but Sans, that’s… beyond serious. I have half a mind to hospitalize you for that alone, nevermind your singular HP.”

“i don’t think we need to go that far, alphs. i’ve been doing just fine so far.”

“SANS.” Papyrus’ voice was tight. “GOING OFF THE STATE OF YOUR SOUL, I WOULD VERY MUCH NOT CALL THAT 'FINE.’”

“no need to be soul down about it, bro. i’ve gotten used to it by this point. might be a little heart to get used to, but i’m sure we’ll thread something together.”

“SANS, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE TERRIBLE PUNS ABOUT THE SHATTERED STATE OF YOUR SOUL!” Papyrus begged, but his voice was a little lighter than it had been a moment prior. Apparently Sans’ crappy puns—even in this situation—gave his brother some kind of comfort.

Frisk felt their Determination swell as they came to a decision. They got up and went over to Sans, ignoring the inquiring looks sent their way. “I didn’t know, but that’s not an excuse.” They took a steadying breath. Chara might be mad at them for what they were about to do—Flowey would probably bite them, not that they cared about that—but they grabbed Sans’ hand anyways. “I know my words can’t convince you, so I’ll show you. Even the worst person can change if they try.”

He jolted at the familiar words as they concentrated, pulling at the power they swore they’d never touch again. The world blinked away, leaving only Chara, Flowey, Frisk and Sans. The skeleton’s eyesockets were wide as he stared at the floating icons. It was probably his first time seeing them.

Load was fuzzy around the edges—they couldn’t use that one unless they died—but after countless runs, they’d figured out how to use RESET by themself. The orange letters hovered in their marigold box, tauntingly. The cumulation of all of Sans’ pain, the source of comfort for Frisk in countless death-filled runs, hovering before them both.

“Frisk, what are you doing?” Flowey’s eyes were wide with surprise and a touch of worry. “You’re not going to…”

“No.” They kept ahold of Sans, fearing that if they let go he’d return to reality. They turned their full focus towards the skeleton monster. “This… this power has haunted you for a long time. It’s time for you to end it. With your power.”

It took the skeleton a long moment to understand what they meant. “you’re saying… you want me to…?”

Frisk gave a firm nod, even as Chara and Flowey jolted.

“H-hold on! Let’s not be so hasty, here!” Flowey looked distinctly alarmed, and even Chara was glancing nervously between Frisk and the RESET button.

“Frisk… are you sure? You can’t… This isn’t like Asgore. If it disappears…” Chara swallowed thickly, but Frisk had never been more sure about anything in their life.

“Do it, Sans. Destroy the cycle. I’ll even Save afterwards to make sure it can’t be fixed.” Frisk’s voice was firm and sure, and Sans gave a low chuckle.

In the darkness of this void, blue and yellow sparked to life in his eye. “kid, i think this is probably the best damn thing you’ve ever done for me.” He summoned one of his Gaster Blasters, causing Chara and Flowey to flinch back on reflex. Frisk’s hair stood on end as the power built up in the maw of the skull, and Sans’ grin became a little manic. Light seared itself into their retinas as an impossibly loud shattering sound echoed around the void.

Reality fluctuated for a moment, rippling like the world itself was adjusting to the destruction of the ability of the RESET. When everything quieted down, all that was left was a broken corner of the frame that flickered pitifully. The power to RESET the world… was gone.

Frisk squeezed Sans’ hand as the skull faded from existence and the living room came back into being.

“H-hold on!” Undyne blinked at where they were and the couch they’d been at a moment prior—at least, a moment prior to the people who hadn’t traveled to the void with them. “What just…” 

Sans’ shoulders shook, and Frisk realized he was crying. He was laughing and crying all in the same breath, that almost manic look still flickering in his eyesockets. A swell of magic absolutely drenched in gratitude and relief hit the room hard enough that several people staggered where they’d moved to stand.

“SANS?” Papyrus hesitantly approached them.

“it’s over. Stars, it’s finally over. thank you, Frisk.” Sans’ grin was real in a way they’d never seen before, even with yellow-tinged cyan tears running down his face.

“WHAT DID YOU…?”

“Frisk let him destroy the RESET power.” Flowey told the room. “Completely. It’s… it’s gone.” He sounded like he still didn’t believe it.

Papyrus gently pulled Sans into a hug. “ARE YOU… OKAY?”

“better than i’ve been in years, paps.” Sans’ voice held a vitality that’d been missing before. Something Frisk belatedly realized they’d never heard from him like this in all the time they’d known him.

Hesitantly, they ran a Check on Sans.

* Sans — ATK 1  DEF 1  HP 3

* He’s starting to see a future for himself

Frisk realized they weren’t the only ones that’d run a Check on him, because Papyrus held him close and began sobbing as well.

“BROTHER… YOUR HP.”

“i told you, bro. i’m not going anywhere.” Sans hugged his brother and Frisk let out a deep sigh of relief as a Save Point sparked into being in the corner of the room. They hesitantly approached it.

“You won’t be able to RESET if you Save now, you know that right?” Chara eyed them warily. “No more re-dos. No more… any of that.”

“I know.” Frisk held their hand in the energy and willed their magic to latch onto that moment in time, to Save . “I don’t need to RESET anymore.” They smiled, looking at the happy family before them. Their happy family.

Papyrus made a really awful pun, and Sans’ deep-bellied laugh echoed in their very SOUL. Frisk’s smile was gentle and warm as the sound filled them with Determination.

This was their happy ending. And now it would stay.