Your lunch moment was ruined. However, you were too worried about Papyrus to throw a tantrum.

It was childish anyway, unfitting an ambassador.

The entire family rushed Papyrus to the closest thing they had to a hospital: Alphys’ lab.

You made a note to your parents that Ebott Town needed a proper, centralized medical facility.

They agreed.

Your aunt offered to help Alphys, but your friend didn’t want to trouble the guest. In the end, she stayed by the sidelines.

After administering the proper painkillers and sedatives, Papyrus slept in an oversized bed. You recognized it as an import from the True Lab.

Sans wanted to be alone for a while. The first one to give him space was Undyne, in response to her guilt.

Dad excused himself for some reason. Was it guilt as well? Or did he understand the need for solitude better than others?

Alphys, Mom and your aunt stayed around in the living room.

The theme of Alphys' home decorations was ‘anime memorabilia’. Mew Mew Kitty couch, framed posters of various shows, a collector’s case full of models: the list goes on. Much of these were gifts from Mettaton.

It turns out your aunt was also a huge fan of a few titles. The bonding of nerds between the two continued throughout the evening. Alphys offered to put a good word about your aunt to Undyne.

They clicked together faster than you expected.

It’s nightfall. Mom thought it’s time to go home, but you told her that you wanted to stay.

School? School can wait.

Usually, Mom would object to you skipping school. She’d make sure your ambassador jobs take place in the weekends so you’d have uninterrupted schooltime.

But… she knew the skeleton brothers were some of your best friends. Tonight, she granted an exception on the promise that you’d keep her updated.

You agreed.

When Mom left the home, Aunt Cenna addressed you.

“Hey,” she asked, “Is your skelly friend alright?”

You nodded. Then, you apologized for putting her in such an awkward situation.

“No problem, Frisky. I was in the crime department of the police force. Let me tell you, I got into muuuuch more intense drama before.”

Does it involve high-speed chases and exchanging gunfire? You asked.

“Stereotypes have to come from somewhere, yeah? There are some nights that make even the movies look lame.”

Sounds like a dangerous way to live. More so when she didn’t have the ability to load SAVES like you do.

You asked your aunt if Sans’ accusation was true, doing your best to keep a neutral tone.

“…Yeah. He’s right. That short skelly is one sharp dude. Sans, right? Gotta remember the names of folks like him.”

Despite the confirmation, you didn’t feel angry. It stirred more curiosity instead.

You proceeded to ask ‘why’?

“I was just an emotional teenager back then. One day my biggest worry were silly exams, and the next… I’m holding your fate in my arms. I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“So I gave you up to foster care. Biggest regret in my life. Ain’t a day passed where I wondered if I could have made a better choice.”

You told her that there’s no blame. It’s unfair to expect everyone to be as tough as Sans.

…Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

“What about Sans?”

Too late, you’ve caught Cenna’s interest. You summarized his circumstance in the most discreet manner. It’s supposed to be hush-hush after all.

All you said was that Sans’ parents died young. He thus raised Papyrus all by himself. You didn’t mention about the hows, the chaos of the adoption attempt, or his prodigy status.

“Damn. No wonder he thinks I’m a chicken. He did what I should have done for you all those years ago. Hats off to him, really. He’s got guts.”

“Papyrus is stellar too." She continued. “A bit loopy up in the head, but he’s such a golden heart. His naive charm is irresistible. If only we have more humans with his innocence. I’d have less blood on my hands.”

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If she was a cop who dealt with violent criminals, it’s inevitable that she had to shoot someone dead.

“Well, that just motivates me to do better. I’m not gonna vanish from your life anymore. You can count on that.”

She took out her cellphone and showed it to you. “Let’s trade contacts.”

You traded contact numbers with your aunt. Then you asked what she’s going to do now.

“I’ve booked a room in the Bunny Inn. To plunk luggage. I’m gonna go back there and extend a few nights.”

Why not stay with Toriel? Mom’s house was big enough.

“Nawh, I don’t feel comfortable bunking in other folks’ homes. I’d keep Madam Toriel busy all night. Don’t wanna wear her out more than necessary. Well, what about you?”

You told her that you’re going to be here for the skeleton brothers. Even if it takes the entire night. They’ve helped you out so much, it’s only fair to be with them in their darkest hour.

Aunt Cenna gave you a messy rub on the head. “Atta Frisky. That’s the way.”

“You know… you’re really mature for your age. Are you sure you’re a pre-teen? Your character puts a ton of adults to shame.”

You blushed at the compliment.

Aunt Cenna tipped her cool hat and strode right out of the lab.

Dang, she had style.

You combed your hair back in place with your fingers.

It’s midnight. Alphys tried to contact Sans through her phone. Most of the time it was ignored, until…

“Frisk?” She said, “Sans wants to speak to you.”

What about Papyrus?

“He’s okay. Just sleeping.”

You asked Alphys if Papyrus won’t prematurely wake up.

“I doubt so. The medicine should keep him asleep for at least four more hours. Why’s that?”

Nothing, you said. Just wanted to know when Sans would have his hands full.

That was not a lie. As long Papyrus stays asleep, you can corner that enigma of a skeleton in a battle of words.

It’s best for Alphys to remain ignorant about your true intentions…

You entered the makeshift ‘ward’.

It smelled of pines and bones. You had expected to see complex monitoring machines, but you found none. It seemed that the monsters didn’t have the same medical tech that defined human hospitals.

Papyrus slept peacefully in his bed. Whether or not he’s unaware of the ordeal, you could not tell. His nearby presence served as a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

The sole source of light came from Sans’ left eye. There was an alternating flicker of yellow and blue. He’s using his powers for something, but what?

He stopped when he heard your footsteps.

Sans turned around to face you. Dark spots tainted the rims of his sockets. He’s been stressing his eyes out, either from magic or from… tears?

“…Hey kid,” he greeted you. “About our deal. Perhaps it’s a bad idea. Can we consider it void?”

You were shocked by that statement. He wasn’t smiling and that worried you.

It didn’t help that there was a serious formality to his tone of voice. If you could picture his words, it was not his usual ‘Comic Sans’.

After all the effort in defying the odds, he wanted to give up? Why?

Sans lowered his head. It reminded you of how Dad refused to look at you, back then, when he tried to kill you.

You asked ‘Why?’ again, this time with more firmness.

He said: “Have you ever wondered if you’re just a character in a game? That we’re supposed to be playing to our assigned roles, and no more?”

“If we act outside of boundaries, we break the ‘code’. All the calculations end up haywire. It bites us back. Hard.”

“So please, Frisk. Just… RESET whenever you think it’s necessary. Forget about our promise.”

You walked up to Sans. Placed both hands on his round cheekbones. Locked the gaze of his skull directly to your face.

“What are you doing?”

You then gave Sans a headbutt, Undyne Style!

Well… more like ‘Undyne Style Super Lite Wimpy Edition’. Sans only had 1 HP. You had to be extra careful with him.

Still, it was enough to give both of you a sore forehead. The next few seconds were spent cringing from the sting.

“Ow… What was that for?!” He’s angry. And he should be angry.

You took this opportunity to yell at Sans for being an IDIOT!

In bold, and all-caps.

Quit now?

After all the cool, casual big bro talk about helping you out?

About making a difference?

About getting everyone together?

About trying something different for once?

You reach out to grip his jacket. Held them tight in your child’s fists so he couldn’t flee from you.

What the hell is with the nihilistic talk?

You ask if this is a game to him?

Sans tried to look away from you. He’s dodging your confrontation in any way he can.

“Frisk. Please, you understand where I’m coming from. You’re the only person who can understand.”

Yes.

You understand.

So you asked Sans if he’s scared of the unknown.

In the Underground, he knew what’s going to happen. RESET. Timelines stopping and starting, until THE END. That was the only outcome permitted for the future…

And he had lived through it too many damn times.

Other incarnations of Sans had seen your best, your worst, and everything in between.

You could tell he no longer had true fear because he had already resigned himself to the apathy of the expected doom and gloom.

There was only boredom.

There was only despair.

You know this, not just by having lived through the doldrums more than he did… rather you made it all happen.

You and your determination.

Sans shouldn’t consciously remember anything. His monster brain can’t hold any memory of past repetitions. Still, he always seemed to know more than he let on. Is it because the remembrance of the SOUL is not so easily erased?

As for you? After a certain point, even the ‘True Reset’ stopped becoming ‘True’ for you.

That’s how you could keep writing coded messages to keep track of your attempts.

That’s how you could write letters of apology.

That’s how you tried, ever so subtly, to manipulate the only man who could offer any help.

Blood rushed to your head. Emotions ran wild. Your vessel dubbed as a ‘physical body’ quivered.

You started to cry.

The anger turned inwards towards yourself.

Despite what everyone says about you, deep inside you knew you’re a terrible coward. You kept dragging everyone back to The Underground because YOU cannot face the unknown, determined to stay forever in a loop.

Sans stopped trying to avoid your face. He’s emotionally tensed, but he observed: listening.

You told him that in this time-skewed world…

You, the Golden Quiche with Godlike powers, trusts him the most.

Please, you beg.

Stop.

You told Sans that he’s a living person.

Not a scripted caricature of a bad joker.

He has feelings.

He has fears.

He has burdens.

Let himself be helped.

For once.

The silence seemed to last for an eternity.

He’s frightened of stepping outside of his comfort zone. You could tell. Sans had lived with the headaches of time travel longer than you. Perhaps long before you were even born.

At last he said: “Three questions.”

You blinked in puzzlement.

“You can ask three questions,” Sans explained, “I’m… I’m not sure if I’m prepared for more than that. But, I will answer them the best I can.”

“Just, I advise caution on applying my experiences as a blanket statement. There are other versions of me out there, in different timelines, with a different history. It’s complicated. In time, you’ll understand. We should start on a fresh, new page.”