Title: Keep You Warm
Tags: Flowerfell, Flowerhell, sans/frisk
Word Count: 1763

“Keep it warm for me, okay?” Sans tells them gruffly, throwing his jacket around their small shoulders. They could die of sickness, that’s how weak they were, and Sans had made it his business to keep them alive. It didn’t mean anything besides making sure they didn’t die.
They look up at him, their one eye squinting in confusion. Then, they smile big, and bright. So bright that Sans is almost certain that he won’t ever see something like it again. So he doesn’t look away. “Thank you,” they wheeze out. There they go again, always thanking him for a small gesture that would go so unnoticed otherwise. He doesn’t know why they keep thanking him, unless they really can’t remember the past timelines.
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.” He looks at the flower on their shoulder, his grin becoming somewhat forced. It stares back at him as if it is seeing him for the first time. “Come on, we got to get moving unless you really want to meet Undyne.”
They stagger to their feet, one arm hanging limp and half of their vision gone, moving so slow. He wonders why they don’t just pull out the damn flowers if they’re such a hassle. They don’t offer any type of defense or attack and they certainly weren’t for fashion. Sans shakes out of it when he sees Frisk staring at him, because he had been staring first.
He moves forward, shoving his hands into his gym shorts. The flower whispers for Frisk not to let their guard down, that he could kill them. He knows he could too, he could do it so easily. But he could just as easily not. What was the purpose of murdering the kid when they kept coming back?

And they kept being so fu（和谐）cking nice to everyone? Why murder something that wasn’t even aware just how special they were yet?
–
Sans hadn’t killed. Sans hadn’t dusted one monster in the entire time. And he had to say, he was pretty pissed about it. After being dusted, maybe a dozen times just by Undyne, he was ready to throw in the towel. But then the kid, Frisk, would throw themselves at him, would grab onto his shirt and plead and beg.
They didn’t belong here, and he wanted to get them out. So, he would play by their rules.
It did make it hard though, when after a few fights with Undyne the kid went blind. They RESET, after Asriel had been killed and Sans was about to be dusted, and just lay there. He had a moment of actual fear, in the reeds, that they had really died.
And then it was a wave of relief. Because, if they were dead, then he could take the soul and they could all leave. The RESETs would stop, the jumping would stop, and he could stop with the fighting. Then, they were hiccuping out a cry, crying out his name and he felt so terrible.
How could he wish that they would be dead when all they’ve ever done is trust and forgive and show him MERCY? He scrambles over to them, feeling like absolute shit, and tries to figure out what was wrong.

His eyes landed on the flower blocking their eye. Enough was enough with this ridiculous flower obsession, so he ignored Asriel’s protests and went to rip away the blossom. The flower kept screaming not to touch them, that they’ll wake up, just to leave them be.
He had never heard someone scream with such a g o n y.
Sans’ hands flew off of Frisk, and he shoved himself back. They thrashed for a moment, the scream prolonged and probably picked up by the echo flowers, before falling silent to tears. He didn’t think he could have gotten much worse, but oh, he was wrong.
“What happened?” He turned to Asriel, demanding an answer.
“I warned you, you idiot!” It cried out.
Sans glared at it, hating that word. Papyrus used it too often and too frequently with his name. “How was I supposed to know that it would hurt them? Why do they even have this many flowers in the first place?”
“A flower for a death.” They said, pitifully. Their voice was even more hoarse than Sans was used to, and he knew it was because of the screaming. “Every time…I get a flower.”
And it suddenly clicked into place. “So you know about the RESETs?” He should have said something kinder, but he was a monster and if this kid knew what type of hell they were putting him through…
“I know about them.” They struggled up, and Sans could see the tear stains on their cheeks, tears still trailing down them. It hurt to look at, bringing his rage down to a simmer. “I don’t know how to stop them.”

Sans looked at them, really looked at them. Half of their showing body parts were covered in bright yellow blooms, and he was certain some of the hidden bits had patches too. A flower for a death? Fitting. But who was the mourner leaving these unwanted remembrances?

He sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to try and pull out the weeds anytime soon.

Frisk sat with uncertainty on the ground, head turning slowly to hear all the sounds. They wouldn’t be able to walk on their own anymore.

Sans crouched down to grab one of the sleeves of the jacket, and then their hand, slipping his phalanges between their fingers.

It was the one she couldn’t really feel anymore he thought, but he squeezed it all the same.

“Keep them warm for me, okay?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eye sockets. “We wouldn’t want me getting cold feet.” They laughed slightly, but it died quickly in their throat. Meeting Undyne was inevitable, so he walked as slow as they needed, acting as if he was just too tired to speed up.
He thinks Asriel still caught onto him.
–
Frisk could barely walk anymore. Their breathing was always audible, always such a strain, and their head was always downcast. He didn’t understand why they wouldn’t just let him blast them through all the monsters so they could get out. They acted like wearing a heavy jacket was a struggle, but refused to hand it back to him. He still put the flower on his shoulder because there was no way in hell either of them were going to let Frisk try and carry it still.

They had just passed Muffet, this time successfully, before their legs gave out. They were slightly behind Sans, and their “good” arm reached out to grab at his sweater. The hand he was holding fell from his grasp, which is what really alerted him something was wrong. He turned, heart swooping in distress to see them fallen. It looked pitiful, they looked on the edge of death. He shook off the thoughts that said his sweetheart wasn’t going to make it.
Frisk didn’t talk anymore, too much effort on their strained lungs, but he knew, he knew, they were trying to apologize for holding up the process. He turns, crouching to grab both of their arms. “It’s okay sweetheart, but can you stand for me?”
He helps them up, sure that it was a misstep that was his fault. He was doing terrible at making sure they walked well. Instead, when Frisk went to stand, their legs locked and they tumbled straight into Sans. He could hear the way they were breathing, short pants with an occasional sound scraping from their mouth. Standing was too much.
Sans looked at them, really looked at them, and could see they were on their last -uh- leg. A RESET wouldn’t fix it, he was sure nothing was going to fix it down here. He moved the flower off his shoulder, tears threatening to spill over. Asriel looked shocked, but didn’t say anything.

“Well,” Sans started, fixing the tremble in his voice. “Since you still won’t give me back my jacket, I guess you’ll have to keep me warm.” He picked them up so gently, so aware that they were as fragile as they were, that they were just like a flower in the wind, stem so close to snapping. He put Asriel back on his shoulder after making sure that they were secure.
The flower made sure not one of his tears touched their head, and he made sure that his sobs didn’t make a sound.
–
Frisk knew this was the ending, the right ending. They knew what was going to happen, maybe even before they had met Sans, but only knew they were going to get to it with him. He had become so wonderfully, wonderfully, kind.
It hurt to know that they weren’t going to see him again, or touch him again. A few droplets fell on their face and they were aware Sans was crying. They wanted to cry too, wanted to cry and cling and tell Sans they weren’t ever going to leave him.
They wanted to stay with him forever.
Instead, they felt their soul be drawn up, up, out of their body and they forced a bittersweet smile on their face. Find happiness for me, Sans.
He was protesting, saying there had to be another way, why would they do this to him? Remember me, please.

END.

wow…