SoulFire ( sans x frisk AU)

Dust

"What do we do now, Doctor? He's only grown worse, and it is not helping with Frisk's mental state." Asgore persisted. He had grown to be desperate now. Despondent enough to seek out Sans for guidance. The king clasped his large claws around the skeleton's arms simultaneous to hearing his response.

"Your Majesty, there is nothing Gaster, nor I can do... His soul has just grown too old for any fixing and is far too fragile for repairs." Sans states this emotionlessly, blank staring up at the massive beast and watching his slim eyes fill with pathetic tears.

The king's snout twitches, his fangs poking from beneath the side of his stretched lips.

This wasn't true. It just couldn't be true. It simply couldn't. Could it? His expression dropped droopily. It seemed forlorn, rightfully laced with concern.

"Please... I beg you, Sans... What can we do? He cannot stay like this, it's scaring our children and has us awake at night." Toriel adds in her input thoughtfully, a poorly hidden anguish in her voice. She already knew the answer long before the words were whispered from Gaster's mouth.

Though she had already known, it still brought tears to her eyes.

"The only thing that puts an old man out of misery."

"Doctor Gaster-! No!! You can't be serious!!"

"I'm afraid I am, Sire."

Asgore roughly let go of Sans, marching to the older skeleton with deep sobs breaking his words "No-! You-you cant! Gaster, you know him as well as I do! Please, he's a good man, and he has so much left to live for-!"

The king was silenced by the doctor's strict and mournful tone "If we simply let him keep going on like this, then what, Asgore?!" he wrinkled his face, Let him rot away on his own in that miserable, putrid, disgusting shell covered in his own shit?!"

"Please, Wingy, there MUST be something! Anything but death!"

Sans stood idly, stone-faced through all of this. And while his gaze on the floor was cold, his insides were burning with guilt and regret. He was already planning out the funeral, already accepting the fate of his old and dear friend. It wasn't visibly playing any tole on his body, but he felt like as soon as he locked himself alone in a room he'd want to break every bone in his body and sob for the physical pain along with whatever pain he would be feeling at the time.

He always knew this day would be coming. He knew.

Gaster grabbed Sans by the arm tightly to snap him out of his trance. "Come, we must act now while the children are asleep in their rooms."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

But by the time they had stepped into the room, Sans was left alone with Gerson. Gaster stood behind him, but in all the static Sans couldn't hear his tears hit the floor. Gerson was chewing on a lump of brown and lemon yellow pages slowly, no drool anywhere in sight, his beak completely dry and his wrinkled skin white with grey age spots. He didn't even reply. He didn't look up. He just continued to eat his ball of inner fluids and one of the skeletons stepped forward with a glowing eye.

"God. God help me." he whimpers, gritting his fangs together and lowering his hand to the ground. Before giving this another thought, Sans threw his hand towards the ceiling, a single bone shooting up from the earth with a blue, shriveled soul caught on it. Once the magic was gone, the small heart finished crumbling away and shattered into pieces. Sans watches Gerson's eyes turn grey, and he watched him drop the ball of papers. A single sentence slipped from his tongue before he was gone.

"Do you think there's a waterfall in heaven?"