You shrank away fearfully, shakily rising to your feet and stumbling under cover. You looked down at you palms as you tried flee, but the snow left a track behind you. Your heart pounded against your chest.

"(Y/N) stop! You'll get lost!" Sans yelled, not too far behind him.

"No..." You muttered. "No. No. No. No. No....!"

A demonic cackle ripped through your head. You hissed, clutching your tender head and yanking at your hair to distract you from the things around you. Running away wasn't an option, Frisk needed your help to leave the Underground, but you couldn't be trusted right now. You had been about to pursue a retreating foe, no mercy.

Your mother had always stressed that principle, harping on how Mercy led to weakness, then weakness to death. Giving in and leaving life behind would get you killed, but it wasn't right to you. You didn't want to kill anyone, but so much as defending yourself brought back your horrid memories.

Maybe I should just let myself go... if I'm attacked I'll face the pain. I won't fight back. I. Won't. Kill.

You smiled weakly. "That's right. I won't kill." You muttered shakily. Your hands were still knotted in your head as you laughed. "Do you hear that Chara?!" You laughed quietly, volume growing rapidly. "I won't kill anyone! I refuse! Y-You can't make m-me!"

Your voice started to quiver as a wall of noise overtook you. Deafening static filled your ears as you rocked gently, falling to the ground and rest against a tree as you curled into a ball. Your childhood was reflected in your actions, as everyday you'd do this. Your mother's painful remarks on your weakness echoed in your head like megaphones were being held to your ears. You clasped your hands on your ears, tears streaking new paths against your cheeks.

"No! I don't want to. Just go away. I don't want to." You repeated, nailing biting into your scalp. Red wet broke surface and you shuddered, plunging deeper.

Chara's sinister cackle played in the back of your mind, like music played to intensify a movie. You could feel blood trickle down the front of your face, moving across your brow and taking its path with your tear. You could taste the coppery flavor as it neared your mouth and you went rigid. Your tears fell faster and you cried out a scream of pain.

Your face was buried in your knees as you screamed. Your fingers entangled themselves in your wild mane as you panted desperately for breath. You grew dizzy and panicked.

It was just one dance. One dirty asshole and my switch had been flipped. If it hadn't been for small, what would have happened? Would I have kill someone? Would my soul be surrendered to a relative I never even knew of? Maybe if I died, Sans would care for him. They could use my soul to break the barrier. Frisk could go on without the danger I'd put him in. He'd be happy, right?

You were quiet for a moment, before a sob heaved through your chest. "No, I can't do it. I can't live without Frisk. I'm not strong enough to protect him."

"(Y/N)!!" Sans called again, his cry on deaf ears as you struggled to control your past.

Your chest trembled with shaky breath, your head beginning to feel light and dizzy. You couldn't slow your breathing, even if you tried to. Your eyes were squeezed shut and you tried to focus on something. A sound. An image. Anything. But a roar of silence deafened you. All you could see were memories of a life you destroyed single-handedly.

"Please help me..." You whispered, curling into a ball.

You couldn't feel the cold, but you were going numb. Your thoughts slipped until you felt almost nothing. Your breathing stopped all at once. A sort of warmth flared to life in your chest. You blinked and white crystals erupted into your vision. The frost was accented by small, red droplets. Your bloody hand fell to your sides as your eyes rose, small breath brushing against your face in hurried puffs. You blinked, vision at first blurry. At first it was just blue. Then came a body. His lips moved but you didn't hear anything.

Your eyes adjusted slowly, revealing Sans before you. His hands were clutching your shoulder as he shook you, sockets searching your eyes for any sort of response. You felt tears burn and a shaking, gasp like sob fell from you. You still couldn't hear him. His voice sounded too distant, like he was yelling from buildings away.

"Sans..." You said quietly, a tear dripping down your face. "Please... I'm scared."

It was barely a whisper but he heard you perfectly. His eyes widened as he sighed. He spoke again, now just a little more clear. "I..... re." He said gently.

"I can't.... I can't understand. It's so loud. Please make the noise go away... please...! I don't want to listen anymore. I-I don't want to dance!" You shouted, curling again. Your vision flickered and you saw the studio.

You shook your head. "I don't want to dance!"

You cried, finally letting years worth of pain out. In a way, you found it funny. Almost like throwing a fit. You'd been so scared for so long, but nothing compared the terror you now felt. Everything was quiet, the silence filled by sobs that had been waiting for years to be released. Your wet palms cradled your face, rasping breaths trying to escape between cries.

A gentle tune hummed behind you tears, confusing you. For no particular reason, it seemed to sooth you, you breath slowing as the world became more clear to you. Your eyes bat rapidly, the sound becoming louder as you grew warmer.

You felt as though you were returning to yourself. You didn't know the name of it, but you recognized it. Your body twisted, locating the source of the tune. His arms were wrapped around you snuggly, his jacket thrown around you. The hood hid away your face, but you couldn't see the plain white t-shirt he wore beneath it. His fingerless gloves remained connected at your front, seeming to cage you against him.

His humming was quiet, but he rocked gently. Sans was comforting you. He'd found you. "Sans..." You muttered quietly, cheeks red.

He fell quiet as he released his hands, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back so he could see your face. You averted your gaze, instead focusing on the white shirt that laid loosely over his skeletal frame.

"(Y/N)?!" He gasped. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah! I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're fine." He interrupted. "I just found you having a mental breakdown in the middle of the woods after a dance battle at Grillby's. You're supposed to say 'no' and tell me what's wrong!"

"Sans, I'm fine. Let's just go home." You muttered. "I'm sure Paps is worried."

"Paps and the kid would have called if they were worried. But I am. What just happened?"

"Sans I... I don't.... I don't know." You lied bluntly.

His face deepened in a cobalt blue as he grew frustrated. "(Y/N), we're not leaving until you tell me what happened." He said.

"Sans please!" You begged. "These are my burdens to carry. I'm not gonna dump them on you!"

"(Y/N) it's more of a burden to worry about you constantly if this is the alternative. Tell me. I... I don't want to see you cry like that again." He said gently.

You knit your fingers together and watched as one thumb spun around the other. "Don't tell anyone. Not Frisk or Papyrus. Or Toriel or anyone. Promise me that." You said quietly.

He smiled and nodded. "Of course. I promise."

You nodded and took a breath. The chill didn't reach you from the confines of Sans' jacket, but you still shuddered. Your eyes avoided him like a plague, like if you didn't look at him he wouldn't hear what you said.

"This... is it."
______________________________________________________________________________
You heaved your labor breaths, frozen in placed as the song ended. Beads of sweat sat against your forehead, a sharp snap in the air meaning you were free to move once again. Your tired limbs collapsed to your sides, you heart beating quickly.

"Sloppy!" She snapped. "You're being sloppy. It's is not acceptable in this place to be sloppy."

Her tone was bitter and sharp, making your gut twist with guilt. "I apologize. I'll do better." You heaved. "Just let me rest for a bit. I'm tired."

"Do I train you just so you can be 'tired'?! You disgrace your family name!"

"I'm sorry! I know I'm weak, please forgive me mother."

"Do not call me that! No child of mine collapses after such basic exercises!"

Your heart twisted as you head lowered to floor, your knees folded beneath you and your palms flat to the ground. "I beg your forgiveness madam. If you would bestow upon me the chance of redemption I would be the utmost grateful."

She was silence, the only clue of her approaching was the sharp clip of heels. They stopped just before you and you barely held yourself still. "Go to your room and wash that stench off. I've smelt vomit more appealing."

"Yes ma'am." You muttered.

Keeping your face down, you stood quietly and walked from the mirrored room, each reflection seeming to amplify the pain you felt.

Her eyes bore into your back as you pulled the door shut behind you, cutting yourself from that world. Alone in the hallway, you felt your emotions build in your chest. Your eyes burned with tears and sobs choked your breath, but you didn't spare a single sound. Only the weak cried, at least that's what she told you.

You walked in silence to your bedroom, closing it behind you gently. You walked to your dresser and removed your nightgown. Going to your bathroom, you stripped the dripping sweats you had been practicing in and set them in your basket, still silent as you moved about the room.

Cold water pumped through your shower, pelting your bare skin and making your shudder. Your lip quivered and you squeezed your eyes shut. You scolded yourself internally.

What an idiot. What was I thinking? I haven't improved in the slightest. I'll never free of here. I'll never be ready...

You scowled, a hot tear sliding down your face against your will. Your clutched your fists, not feeling the guilt you were trying to inflict. Instead you were angry, but not quite at yourself.

"Why... why can't I be mad? Why don't I feel bad for messing up? She wants me to be the perfect daughter, her heir to all of this, so why aren't I more.... motivated? Is that the word?" You trembled as you looked at your hands. "Why don't I want this?"

You knew the answer, but at the time you didn't realize. You didn't desire the power to use your skill against others. You only desired the ability to share it with the world. You wanted to perform.

You were just barely grasping such free thinking those days.

Your hand twisted the knobs as if you'd been programmed to, and rested your head against the bathroom tile. Taking a breath you shook your head and stepped from the small cube.

You had become accustom to moving articulatly. Practice had programmed your muscles. It was your life. You clothed yourself in your night gown and stood in the center of your room.

You spun gracefully on your toe and closed your eyes as you dared to dance without cause. You moved gently, your loose hair spilling over your shoulders. A gentle tune rang in your head. It was familiar to you, singing it since childhood.

"As quiet as a mouse, as big as a house. As fast as a hare as brave as a bear."

You spun and danced to yourself. It felt better than when you were being shamed for your best in that room of reflected shame. You opened your eyes as the thought sank your heart. For a moment, you wanted to dance again, but the clipped sound of your mother's tall shoes startled you.

You sat on your bed and lifted the covers over you, staring at the wall with your back to the door. It swung open and the lights flickered to life. "Get up (Y/N)!"

Your hands clenched into fist as you sat up and turned to her. Dipping your head in a bow, you responded. "Yes ma'am?"

She threw someone down before you, causing you to fall back. "This child is staying in here tonight. He has been sent to me as a disciple by a friend of our family. He is skilled, but requires discipline. Keep him here until I come back for him in the morning."

"O-Oh! Yes ma'am."

She slammed the door shut behind you and you looked down at the new child. It was your first time meeting Frisk. His head of brown hair rose, his eyes small and brown, full of tears. He sat on his knees and grabbed your dress, knotting it in his small hands. "Please! Let me out. I didn't want to come here. They made me. They forced me!"