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They weren’t always as close as they are now. For a time they were as distant as a person and daemon could be with each other without being separated. For nearly a year Fran had refused to speak with Killer, refused to touch him and had done everything she could to not even look at him. For a year she had been nothing but a ghost, silent and judging as Killer seemingly went about murdering their friends and family willingly. It took her and Killer himself a year to realise they had been hacked, had been changed against their will and forced into the life they were now living.
When Killer had still been Sans and Fran had still been Danita they had seemingly had it good. Sure they were stuck Underground but they had their brother and sister, had their friends, had a steady job and a roof over their heads. Unlike other monsters, they hadn’t longed for the surface, hadn’t been oppressed by their prison. They were content, happy. Sometimes they wished it had stayed like that. Sometimes they wished no final human child had fallen down.
Frisk had been okay at first, had been friendly and helpful. The human had befriended the monsters, had helped free them and allowed them to see the real sun and stars once again. But then they kept going back, kept seeking new endings. Sans and Danita hadn’t remembered everything at first, only had impressions that things were looping back over and over again. Then memories started transferring over, horrible memories, memories of blood, death, dust and pain. A human child with a soft smile and an unsettled daemon began to turn into a true monster with a blank stare and a hollow soul.
“You’re changed. Both of you.” Danita sighed to Frisk-Akyra. Frisk had only stared, clothes covered in dust while Akyra stood as a mangy jackal beside them.
That was the first time they remembered their own death and their first time they encountered Chara. The first fallen human was twisted, wasn’t even really the same child they had once been. Countless genocide runs, countless resets had broken what little remained of Chara and in their place was a bloodthirsty shade that longed for something new.
In the beginning, when Chara had offered them the deal they had refused. No matter how many times they died, no matter how many times they saw their friends and family die they refused. It was unspeakable what the shade was asking of them, went against everything they stood for. Neither of them knew just how far Chara would go to get a different ending, neither knew the shade could alter their very code itself.
Sans doesn’t know why he suddenly decided to agree to Chara’s deal, doesn’t know why he’d agree after saying no for more than a hundred timelines. All he knows is that it now feels like he has to agree, that he has no choice in the matter.
“If you do this I will never forgive you.” Danita snarled from his side, her badger face twisted with rage and betrayal.
‘We don’t need your forgiveness.’ Chara had laughed before leading Sans to his first victim.
It was a gradual thing, a slow fall. Danita stopped talking to her other half, refused to touch him, refused to take part in the senseless killings. Often, she even allowed other daemons to attack and kill her first. She lost count of how often she allowed Undyne’s Asmit to tear her throat out, how many times she let Alphys’ gentle soft-spoken Baris to rip her apart with his claws, how many times she let Asgore’s powerful Sieglinde break her into tiny dust particles. With each death she felt the bond between herself and her monster grow more strained, felt more of herself break away never to return. She lost more of herself whenever Sans followed Chara’s wishes and killed another of their friends.
‘You’ll be like me soon, a true monster, a Killer.’ The shade of a human child hissed at them, dead cold eyes cutting them down to their marrow and magic.
It’s around this time, a year after the killings began that they both learn of what Chara had truly done to them, learn of how they were irreparablely changed and forced to commit these acts against their will. The betrayal, the anger, the horror was too much. Sans and Danita felt their minds break, felt their sanity splinter apart along with what remained of who they once were. Sans turned on Chara, ripping the shade apart with bloodthirsty rage while Danita screamed and screamed as she broke apart and reshaped.
When it's over, when Chara is no more they are left just facing one another, bond and bodies forever changed. Danita is no longer a badger, no longer loyalty and judgement. Sans is filled with guilt and determination that leaks constantly from his eyes with a spinning target of his sins left on his chest.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Sans, Killer had wailed from his crumpled place in the snow. And for the first time in over a year, he felt soft fur brush against his bones. It's a shock to the system, finally touching his soul once again after a year of separation. He looked into the soft green eyes in a tabby cats face and felt magic tears mixing with the thick black determination that flowed from his eyes.
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I never noticed what they had done to us. I’m sorry I abandoned you in your most desperate time of need. But from now on I promise you that I will never leave you.” Danita vowed.
From there they are changed. They are no longer Sans-Danita, they are now Killer-Fran. Killer to remind him of his greatest betrayal and mistake, Fran to remind them both they are now free.
They run from their AU, leave it behind so their friends and family can finally live a peaceful life without them in it. They know they don’t remember, know their brother and sister will be confused and hurt by their departure, but they can’t bare to stay surrounded by those they had killed over and over again. They run and are found by Nightmare, his first mortal that he takes in.
Nightmare helps them to heal, helps them to reconnect with each other and helps teach them how to live with their guilt and shame. By the time Dust-Eira and Horror-Antheia are brought into the castle they are lighter, more free spirited and fun loving. They play pranks, push boundaries and laugh with their full chest once more.
“It’s almost perfect, we’re almost complete.” Fran sighed as she curled into his side, body thrumming with a contented purr.
“Why almost? What’s missing?” Killer asked.
“We aren’t sure. Eira and Antheia also know we are missing something but none of us knows exactly what it is.” Fran said.
Killer doesn’t push, knows to give his daemon space when she needs it, has learnt how to function when she wants to exist beside him but also somewhat separately. Their time apart may make some think they are further apart than most but in reality they are far closer than ever before. They continue with their lives, always conscious of their missing always but not longing for it because they know deep down it will eventually come to them. Watching Cross walk into the castle with his twin daemons feels like their always coming home.
”Killer, Killer! There’s two of them! He has two daemons!” Fran hissed excitedly, winding around his legs with nervous energy. They move closer, Fran jumping up to sit on Killer’s shoulder to peer at the twin snakes before her. Their eyes widen when the snakes shift into mirrored white ravens in the blink of an eye though Fran can’t help but keep eyeing the red-eyed raven sitting on the right shoulder.
“They are connected, just like we are. But the red-eyed one, he’s different.” Fran whispered late into the night.
“Different how?” Killer whispered back, both afraid something unseen might overhear.
“He feels more determined.” Fran said which has a weight settling inside their chests.
“But they complete us, don’t they?” Killer asked, wincing as small claws dug into his arms.
“They do, they are our almost. But it still feels off.” She hissed. She doesn’t say it, doesn’t want to scare Killer and even potentially put Cross-Elisha-Heshel in danger, but she gets a feeling from Heshel that feels far to familiar to how she felt when Chara would drift too close to her, would try to touch her.
‘Ernesh.’ The shade had called her once, the name feeling like tar dripping down her skin. Heshel doesn’t feel like tar, he feels like pollen drifting through the warm spring air, but she can’t help but wonder how one acquires two daemons, can’t help but wonder if Heshel is completely Cross’.