Chapter Text

Research into Determination was mostly suspended decades ago. Most of the findings were never made public, and research was slow even when it was popular due to the lack of timeline anomalies. It just wasn’t a problem that needed to be solved anymore.

After all, everyone got their happy ending. As long as Frisk had the most Determination of anyone alive, there was no reason for anyone to worry, and beyond that, well, humans and monsters would have to solve the world’s problems as they came. Besides, time had managed on its own without interference up until now, so it was pretty safe to assume that anyone with Determination would eventually pick a timeline and see it to the end.

A timeline without regrets.

Frisk slumped back, relaxing into the comfy office chair. A benefit of a distinguished career, a chair you can sleep in. There hadn’t been anything major that had required Frisk’s attention as the official Ambassador for human and monster relations for months, if not years. After a rocky start, humans and monsters had had a lot to offer one another, and relations had stabilized once enough people had something to lose if the interspecies truce failed. Truly, the best way to incentivise harmony was to make it profitable.

Now, apart from the occasional disturbed individual trying to harvest souls, things were smooth and easy. That is to say, boring.

It was amazing how time flew. It had been what, 40 years? Frisk looked at the collection of photos over on one corner of the needlessly gigantic desk. A long time since the fall, since those days of fights and resets. It was probably a good idea to give Toriel a call sometime, see how she was doing at the school as headmaster. Frisk hadn’t heard from the gang much lately, really. Everyone had been so busy, making lives for themselves under the stars. They’d grown apart. Natural, really, considering how big the world was in comparison to the underground. Everyone had left, moved on.

Everyone but one.

Frisk sighed in exasperation, rubbing their eyes. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much work there was to do, there was always that little niggling loose end. Long ago, far away, a voice from beyond the grave.

Don’t you have anything better to do? Someone has to look after these flowers.

Frisk checked the schedule. Next week, some kind of meeting. A few days after that, a charity dinner. A trip to Europe to attend a conference, another long flight. But… a few days between now and then. With some effort, the looming pile of paperwork that haunted Frisk day and night might be defeated, or at least pushed back for a moment. And Mt. Ebott was only an afternoon’s drive away…

***

Years of neglect. The whole place was faded, overgrown, empty. Buildings without doors or windows, some vandalised, some reclaimed by nature. Frisk had considered getting down to the ruins the easy way, but Ebott was a tall mountain to climb, and Frisk definitely wasn’t as spry and resilient as they had been all those years ago. So, a leisurely stroll from the castle. Some of it had been mildly dangerous, particularly the core, which had been left to its own devices, but Frisk was very familiar with the shifting rooms.

Toriel’s old home looked a lot smaller. Dusty, bare, with most of the furniture long since removed. The sight of it had filled Frisk with a wistful nostalgia, but there was more walking to do, so they moved on.

The puzzles in the ruins were all broken or solved. No one had been down here to reset them or maintain them, after all. It made what had once been a harrowing journey into a pleasant, quiet stroll.

Finally, one final door, and then the room at the center of the long dormant volcano. The last of the evening light reached through a hole, far above, illuminating a room run rampant with yellow flowers. They covered every surface, climbing the walls, waist deep in parts. Frisk leant against a wall, taking a moment to catch their breath. Time was catching up, it wasn’t that long ago that walking for a few hours wasn’t a problem, now it just aggravated an assortment of aches.

Unsurprisingly, there was no one here. Frisk wandered into the middle of the room, looking around absently. The memories flooded back, clear as the day it happened.

“Asriel.”

Frisk spotted movement out of the corner of an eye, only realising after the fact that they had spoken aloud. They turned, searching for the movement. There was only more flowers.

Frisk sighed. This was a waste of time. Asriel would have moved on long ago, to where ever his whims decided. Why Frisk had expected him to still be here, waiting, it was beyond-

One of the flowers slowly turned to face Frisk. Blank eyes, and a totally neutral expression, they regarded Frisk without an ounce of passion, or recognition.

“Asriel!” Frisk moved closer, shocked but happy to see him, even as a flower. “I can’t believe you’re still here! I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

The flower didn’t move. It didn’t react to Frisk’s presence at all, it’s eyes didn’t even focus. It stared blankly into the middle distance.

“A… Asriel. It’s me, Frisk.” Nothing. Frisk waved a hand in front of the flower. Not even a blink. “Hey. Hey! Are you… Are you ok? Say something!”

Nothing. He didn’t even blink.

Frisk touched the flower, gingerly. Memories of Flowey echoed, Flowey didn’t enjoy being touched. Nothing happened.

It was like he was empty. How long had he been there, staring at nothing?

This was hardly the first time that regret had whispered to Frisk, causing them to journey here, to where it all started. It had been easy to assume that Asriel had just left to go somewhere else, do something to pass the time.

Apparently, he had finally come back. His body couldn’t die, it hadn’t aged a day, but his mind…

Frisk dropped heavily onto their knees in front of the flower. It didn’t react.

“This… This isn’t… I-I didn’t want this. Asriel, say something! Asriel!”

The words echoed in the chamber. Above them, the last of the light died.

***

“Hey, kiddo. Long time, no call.”

“Hey Sans. How’s the ‘dog business treating you?”

“Oh, it’s up and down. These kids running the stalls, they’re working me like a… well, you know.”

Frisk couldn’t quite keep from groaning audibly. Sans chuckled on the other side of the line. They both knew that Sans had the monster food business buttoned down on the entire west coast, and that by dint of as little effort as possible, he hadn’t done an honest day’s work in years, or possibly ever.

“Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t call just so I could exercise some old puns. What’s up?”

“I’ve been busy, you know that. I’m hurt, that you would imply that I wouldn’t call without some pressing business.”

There was a moment.

“Buuut.”

“Look.” Some of the humour was gone from Sans’s voice. “There’s only two reasons you’d call me at this point. I haven’t gotten any invites to any big reunion parties, so that leaves only one reason.”

“Sans…”

“You promised.” Now, there was accusation. Anger. “No more resets. We agreed that this was the best possible outcome, there’s nothing more to be done.”

“I found him, Sans.”

Frisk looked up. The flower was staring out the window, the same as when Frisk had turned the pot to point him that way, the day before yesterday.

“It’s… It’s bad.”

“Frisk… I’m sorry. But you can’t.”

“I can’t leave him like this. It’s not fair.”

“What about all of us, Frisk? You promised me that we’d all see out this time together, for better and for worse. You’d be taking away everyone’s lives, everything we all worked for.” Sans was beginning to sound desperate.

“I know. I can’t do that to you all, not after all this time. I won’t.”

Sans audibly breathed a sigh of relief. “Anyone else I’d have trouble believing, but you’ve always had that honest streak. So why’d you-”

“I’m going to wait it all out, until the very end. You and the rest of the guys, you’re not getting any older, right? But I know monsters still die of old age. You just kinda stop, eventually, right?”

“W-well. I mean, none of us are getting any younger…”

“I’m not going to take this timeline away from anyone that can avoid it. I’m gonna show Toriel and Asgore, and ask for their permission, and then I’m going to wait until the end.”

Sans was silent.

“I’m going to figure it out, and then I’m going back one more time. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

“...I can’t stop you, can I?”

“You can’t see him, Sans. It’s like he was never there to begin with. I can’t…”

Frisk swallowed at the lump in their throat. A feeling was welling, one Frisk hadn’t felt in years.

The sight of what was once Asriel filled Frisk with Determination.

“I have to save him.”