A Puzzle Just For Me

this may be the last time she ever looks this peaceful. we only have a few minutes left together, and yet i’m spending precious seconds just looking at her. 

i know this is our best move. but everything in me is screaming not to make it. i could just keep her asleep until midnight. she’d never know i betrayed her.

i smooth down her hair. 

of course i won’t do that to her. but maybe it would be better if i did. 

i’ll never know.

“you’ll listen to my voice as you listen to your own soul. you’ll answer whatever questions i ask to the best of your ability, with as much detail as you can give me. if i tell you to do something, you’ll take it as a message from your own soul. do you understand?”

“Yes.”

i pause, collecting my thoughts. 

“your sister is an average teenage girl, with no paranormal abilities. she has never shown any indication to the contrary. you have no memory of any time in which she indicated anything to the contrary. you will forget any predictions she made, or any conversations in which you discuss those predictions, or the results of those predictions. you will forget all she has said about jumping, any conversations about her acting in odd ways, and any discussion of her ability to experience the future. do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“sans had a project which he believed might help him stop the anomaly. but despite all his work, he failed. the project was a dead end. he never shared anything about it with you for your own safety. you have no memory of the dream which led to the discovery of the lab, and no memory of visiting the lab or discussing it. you are entirely unaware it exists. you are unaware that sasha, alphys and undyne know of it, or that they are related to it in any way. over the course of the past week, you have been in your bed, recovering from a bad cold and depressed due to the impending end of the timeline. you are feeling better now. your intention is to protect your sister by offering yourself to jerren in hopes that he extends the timeline. it is your only motivation. do you understand?”

“Yes.”

there’s one more thing she has to forget, but i can hardly bear to do it. still, i lean forward and take her hand. i pull off the ring i gave her an hour ago. 

“you and sans did not discuss marriage today. he made no vows to you. you made no vows to him. he did not give you a ring, nor did you give one to him. you are a single woman. do you understand?”

“Yes.”

she negates her own marriage with the same blank tone she’s answered everything with. 

but whether or not she remembers, my vows will bind me until i die.

i’ll always be her ally, whatever she faces. even though she’s going to think i gave up.

i can’t help it. i start crying. “whatever happens, you’ll know he loved you. he always will. and he’s so sorry for everything.” i pause to compose myself. with a connection open directly from my mind to hers, now is not the time to lose control. “all of your memories will remain in your subconscious soul, but will be inaccessible to your conscious memory until activated by a specific trigger. the trigger will be your next in-person sighting of me, and the next time you hear me say the words ‘my wife.’ when these two conditions have been activated, you will remember everything. do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“you will keep three instructions foremost in your mind. you will automatically remember them as the situation demands, and they will override any other thoughts you have. they will help you achieve your goal and protect yourself. repeat after me. you have to keep him in this timeline.“

“You have to keep him in this timeline.”

“you promised to survive.”

“You promised to survive.”

“you trust sans.”

“You trust Sans.”

i pause, looking down at her. 

“when i snap my fingers, the connection between us will break. you will remember nothing of this conversation. you will sleep soundly for ten minutes, then wake up and put your plan into action.”

i pause. tori might say ‘angel be with you’ or something like that. i won’t. i know she’ll be up there all alone. 

but that’s all right. 

if i have faith in anything i have faith in her. 

i snap my fingers. 

it’s as if a guillotine falls between my consciousness and hers. i slump over, my energy temporarily drained. 

she rolls over onto her side, sinks deeper into sleep.

i did it. i stripped away her vulnerabilities and left her with three orders. 

now i have ten minutes left with my wife.

“i’m sorry, kid,” i mumble. “this really is the very best i can do. the very best of what i am is yours. always will be. whatever happens.” tears come to my eye sockets. “we’ll get through this. it’ll be so great when it’s over. we’ll fix up the house, or get a new one if ya want. i’ll take you dancing. walk in the park. sit and read with ya all day. listen to some music. hang out with the dreemurs. bail your sister outta all the trouble she’s absolutely gonna get into. maybe someday… i dunno. i never asked if you wanted kids. kinda an oversight but i would bond with you either way, so it’s fine. i’m not even sure i want kids either. i never really thought about it before.” i chuckle. “but if we pull this off, then we can decide together. and i guess… i kinda hope you do. but it’s okay if you don’t.” 

i brush my fingers against hers. i can feel her breath on my hand. she won’t wake up until the ten minutes are over. still, i’m careful. nothing can go wrong. 

“i don’t know what he’s gonna do to you. i feel like the biggest failure in the world, just… letting you go like this. but you wanted us to be partners. this is what it means.” i gaze at her, tears streaming down my cheekbones. they fall into the crack on my cheek and fill my mouth. “made you a bunch of promises today, i’m gonna make one more. i promise to be worthy of that trust.”

i know she can’t hear me. but i like to think her soul can.

“right. i gotta get outta here before you wake up,” i mumble. “give sasha a heads up ‘bout what i did to your memories. she’s gonna hate me again, but i can’t help that. then… there’s nothing for me but solving the puzzle. there WILL be nothing for me until i have you back. we both know how it’ll be up there. every minute i have will be bought with your soul. and i’ll make it pay off. i’m the only one who can.”

i can’t risk waking her up too early. but she’s still in that magical, deep sleep. i grab the fingernail scissors from the bathroom, then lean over her. a tiny snip, and a lock of her hair is mine. “who’da known how goddamn sappy i really was, huh? well… this is it, kid.”

i stare down at her. 

she looks so beautiful when she’s asleep. 

* i love you.

Sasha turns the can around in her hands, looking at the ingredients and ad copy. “It’s human stuff though, right? Not produced by monsters?”

Reader nods. “Completely human."

“Gotcha.” She opens it and takes a sip. “Huh.”

Then she drinks the rest of it down.

“Well?” her sister asks.

“I mean, it’s sweet. It kinda gives me a buzz. But it’s not as good as Benzedrine.”

Reader’s jaw drops. 

“Not as good as what?!”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that. You were the one on the way to a laudanum addiction.”

“That is not the — are you actually on amphetamines?!”

“No! Come on. I stopped after you went up to Jerren.”

“Why did you even — oh my God —“

She’d pulled apart the entire lab, searching for the data Sans was sure was hidden somewhere. She’d gone days without sleep, and only ate because you literally fed her. 

You’d been a little distracted yourself, what with the collapse of your reality and the impending end of the world. Still, her nervous energy had seemed unusual to you.

She’d told you she’d been drinking a lot of coffee. 

God, are you gullible.

“Promise you won’t ever take that stuff again!”

“It’s not like I wanted to! It was the literal end of the world. It didn’t matter!”

Reader narrows her eyes at her sister. “Just promise.”

“Fine, I promise. It’s not like we’re going to fight any more gods.”

I am often asked by my adoring fans: 

“Mettaton, why do so many of your movies end with you dying?”

On such occasions I affect a melancholy air, and inform them that a tragic ending imbues the viewer’s soul with a full awareness of the transience of life. 

Depending on with whom I am talking, I might airily add that the natural reaction is to cling all the tighter to life, to use all means available to feel gloriously, blissfully alive. Is it not amusing, to imagine how many acts of passion my death has inspired? Perhaps we can imagine… one more?

I keep the truth to myself.

I’ve always had a horror of the idea that at the decisive hour, I might fail. 

Imagine if I was to cringe, or beg, or act in some way that was totally unworthy of me.

How could I end such a glorious life with a pathetic belch of a death?

So in a way I’ve been rehearsing for this day all my life. Perhaps I always knew there would be an arena, and an audience, and the legendary foe of all monsterkind.

Trapped in this hideous cage, I am grateful for every death scene I ever filmed.

I am wheeled out of the staging area and into the arena. I put on a show of waving, as if all these people are here for the premiere of my next movie. But I am searching for one particular soul. 

There. She’s alive after all. The way that creep had talked about her, I hadn’t known if she was still with us. The most notorious art teacher in history shines in white, set off by a crowd of black-clad mourners. She looks like she wishes she was the corpse.

I catch her eye and blow her a kiss. 

She stares right through me. Odd. Has she been drugged? 

Undyne is the final trophy. Something sets her off — oh, I see. The poor girl’s hand is bandaged up. Given our captor’s bloodlust, it’s unlikely that that’s her only injury. 

As the fights start, I dismiss the idea that she’s been drugged. She’s too conscious of what’s going on. But she watches two monsters get dusted without any reaction. 

How can this be the same highly emotional little human I took on a date? It makes no sense until the third death. I see her flinch and look away, and although she and the prince are too far away to hear, I pay careful attention to their interaction. Body language always tells you everything.

I understand, then. 

Poor girl.

The death, the torture sickens me. I look away from the fight with Caldina, catching the eyes of my fellow prisoners. How I envy Jasper his serenity! That’s the attitude I must embody, when my number comes up. But I think it’s not an act for him. Ever since that little spitfire saved his life, he’s had such an otherworldly air. His mate simply looks vacant. He never was very interesting. 

Murple has filled his entire cage, turning it into a big purple block. Miss Coralta is all curled up on herself, knowing her talents run not at all towards combat. Undyne, of course, is gifted in that regard. She’s watching the prince intently, learning what she can. On the way up, I’d heard her muttering to Caldina about how she had reason to believe none of us would be surviving this fight. Caldina had pressed her for more, but Undyne zipped those fishy lips up tight. I wonder what she knows that we don’t. 

And my dear friend Watt, pressing an insulting caricature of the prince to the side of his cage…

Hm?

I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.

But it’s real.

There’s something wrong with his cage, right up at the top. 

Perhaps another monster attempted an escape? However it happened, it's good luck for us.

I catch Watt's attention and flick my eyes towards the top of his cage. Back at the fight, which is still in full swing. Then back to Watt. I nod at him, nearly imperceptibly. 

He must have understood my intent, as he abandons his notepad and pencil and starts crawling up. 

I resist the urge to watch. I would not have any errant movement on my part attract the prince’s attention to that precious little dom. May he reach the top quickly! May there be enough space for him to squeeze through! May he flee this place, and deliver the news of my fate to a weeping public!

For I know exactly how I shall die. 

When my turn comes, I imagine myself clad in that robe she designed for me. Glittering fabric unfurling behind me, rows of feathers sending me soaring into eternity. I wish we’d had a chance to make it. But my imagination has always been my most precious asset. 

I will elevate this sordid slaughter. 

I’ll send a message these ghouls won’t soon forget. 

I’ll draw back the curtain on the trap in which he’s caught that doomed little art teacher. 

i’m alone with this woman who insists i call her “auntie.” of all the ridiculous things.

we’ve been with her for a month. our creator had us for about a year, but we only remember the last couple weeks of that year. so it feels like we’ve lived here longer than we lived at the lab. i’d rather die than go back there, but being here still feels like punishment.

papyrus is at his music class. whenever he’s gone, i feel like bugs are crawling all over my bones. how can he possibly be fine out there without me? what if something happens and he needs me? 

i know that woman thinks we need to learn to tolerate separation. that’s why she has us doing different activities. she’s still trying to find one for me that i won’t get myself kicked out of.

i hate her. who does she think she is?

we’d be better off on our own. 

she’s cooking dinner. singing one of her inane songs. 

i’m reading. at least, she thinks i’m reading. but i’m actually coming up with a plan to kill her.

it would be easy. she’s not all that strong. she wouldn’t expect it. 

serve her right for separating us. 

then pap and i would run away. 

would we just disappear? run so far that creep would never find us?

or should i find him first, and remove him from the equation?

i am painfully aware that i can’t attack him directly. nor can i take any action that carries the intention to hurt or indirectly jeopardize him. not unless i want to get knocked out cold until he turns me back on. and the headache afterwards is miserable.

but i bet there’s a loophole there SOMEWHERE. 

Reader sold herself to Sans to pay for her sister Sasha’s hospital treatments; Sans bought Reader to help him forget his failure to stop the anomaly. Against their better judgments, the two of them fell for each other. When Reader learned the truth about the anomaly, she and Sans made a plan to stop him: she would distract Jerren for as long as possible while Sans figured out how to destroy his power to turn back time. Sans pulled it off — sacrificing himself in the process. For several months, no one remembered he existed.