Chapter Text
There were eyes on Frisk. Frisk could feel them, but they couldn't pay attention. All of their focus was on rolling out of the way of the axes swinging above their head.
Frisk rolled forward onto the ground, dirt and cold snow melting into their sweater as they tried to dodge the sharp metal.
They weren't fast enough, though, and they bit back a yelp as Dogamy's axe cut through their side and sweater. It took a second for the pain to register, the metal so cold and sharp that they barely noticed. But then fire raced down the injury and they faltered.
Backed into the corner of the bullet box, and slowed down by the gash through their side, Frisk wasn't able to dodge Doggaressa's next swing.
It came straight at them and tore through their stomach and SOUL. Their skin split open easily, like a knife through butter.
Dying hurt. It didn't matter how many times it happened.
The world was blacking out, Frisk's vision fading, but just before it all ended, they looked up to meet the gaze that they had felt on them.
Sans leaned against a tree in the distance, his hands in his pockets as he met their gaze with the same smile he always had on.
His back was the last thing Frisk saw as he slowly turned around and walked away.
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Blood gargled out of Frisk's lips as they fell to their knees and clutched at their chest. Their lungs burned as blood filled them and Mad Dummy cackled only a short distance away.
Frisk couldn't stop themself from trying to breathe again, but all that filled their mouth was blood. They couldn't get air and it burned.
They had died so many times to Mad Dummy at this point. They hadn't figured out how to make friends yet.
They would do it, though. They would get past this eventually. Frisk was determined to get past.
As the Encounter around them faded into black, Frisk looked up.
Sans stood there.
He was near the exit that Frisk couldn't get to, half hidden in the shadows. The same blank smile was on his face.
They expected it at this point. Frisk realized a bit ago that Sans was always just around the corner.
They were glad. Even if Sans stared at them with an empty smile and walked away, he was always there.
It was nice to know they weren't dying completely alone.
Sure, no one cared when they died, but maybe they could pretend he did. He was there, after all.
Frisk fell back against the cave wall and tried to take another breath in, only to get burning pain. Hot copper filled their mouth and it was all they could taste as it drowned them.
Their vision began fade to black as blood dribbled out of their lips.
But before they died, they met Sans's gaze and smiled wide.
Sans's grin twitched, and a funny look that Frisk had never seen before crossed his face.
Unlike normal, the last thing Frisk saw wasn't Sans's back. Instead, their eyes slipped closed to Sans standing and staring at them.