Reset (Sans x Older!Frisk)

2- Hope

The first thing Frisk noticed as she resurfaced was the familiar smell of the golden flowers surrounding her. She breathed it in, smiling slightly. After all this time, it almost felt like home.

"Really, Chara?" A familiar voice cut into Frisk's reverie, and she sat up to face Flowey. There was no pretense now- no innocent little mask. Flowey thought he was Chara's partner, and that no matter what, they were victorious.

Once again, Frisk reached into her mind, feeling for Chara's presence. There was none. Even in her pacifist runs Chara had been there, guiding her, before she had gotten bored and taken control. Frisk wasn't used to being truly alone in this world, choosing for herself.

"Well, do what you will. I'll be waiting," Flowey said nonchalantly, unfazed by the lack of response. Chara had always preferred action over words, especially in the genocide runs, when that action had mostly involved knives. Frisk still shuddered to think about it. Why had she just gone along with it; let her body be used to wipe out entire worlds?

Feeling another presence, Frisk stood, looking up, her eyes filling with tears. Toriel's face, smiling sweetly, was so heartbreakingly familiar to her that it almost brought her back down to her knees. "Hello?" Toriel started, but before she could get another word in, Frisk ran forward, wrapping her arms around the monster she knew better than her own mother.

"Oh!" Toriel let out a little exclamation of surprise at the child's enthusiasm, before hugging her back. "Are you alright, child?" Frisk nodded, face buried in Toriel's skirt. Then like a dam breaking, she began to cry, great heaving sobs. Toriel's expression softened. "Were you scared?" she asked gently, and Frisk nodded again, unable to stop the flow of tears.

"Let's get you to a safer place, then," Toriel said decidedly, carefully detaching herself from Frisk's embrace to wipe the tears off the child's face. "I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins." She offered her hand. Frisk took it, following her mother into the Ruins rather like a lost puppy. Ironically, after all these resets, she knew the layout of this place better than any home she'd known aboveground, but she still meekly let Toriel guide her through the puzzles. It was a relief to simply let someone else take care of her. It was even more of a relief to talk to monsters, to let them go. To decide for herself.

Maybe this was her way of earning forgiveness from herself. She could set everything right in this timeline, and then leave it be. But how could she look at her friends and know that before, she had killed them? How could she look in the mirror and see anything other than the face of the killer? If they all could remember, they wouldn't be able to forgive her either. But they had all forgotten. Except...

Sans. Sans remembered. Or at least, he had some way of knowing. Frisk wasn't sure what to feel about that.

"I have something I must do, child," Toriel informed her after leading her through part of the ruins, "Can I ask that you stay here until I return?"

"Okay, mom!" Frisk chirped, her first words since waking up once again in the bed of flowers. Toriel smiled, cheeks turning pink, and she began to walk away. Frisk knew where she was going, and that she would call, and what she would say. But unlike Chara, she didn't find it predictable or boring. Besides, it would be the last time. This time, she could keep her friends, their memories, and their experiences together.

She kept this thought in mind as she aimlessly explored the ruins, as she relished her short time living with Toriel, and as she stood before the door leading out of the Ruins, knowing that she would have to break her mother's heart one last time.

She knew that the important thing was that she was alive.

"I love you, mom. I'm sorry," Frisk said, softly enough that she was certain Toriel couldn't hear her as she walked away. There was no response, but a slight tremor in her shoulders proved that she had heard anyway.

Frisk turned, pushing open the doors that would, eventually, lead to her destiny. A cold gust of wind met her, and flurries of snow dusted her clothing. For something so revered, destiny felt an awful lot like a winter breeze. Frisk smiled to herself, despite the apprehension making a pit in her stomach- despite knowing she would soon see Papyrus, whose needless death she had been responsible for. And Sans, one of the only others who would remember what Chara had done. No, what Frisk had done too. 

But she had hope. She would see what came after the end of Chara's timeline, after the point when she was always forced to reset.

She let the knowledge guide her.

It was all the Determination she needed.