It’s midnight.

Mom had went to bed at least an hour ago.

You couldn’t settle down in yours. The comfort of the warm chicken congee had long passed.

You messaged Sans. Asked if he’s awake.

‘yeah kid. what do you need?’

You asked if you could meet him right now.

‘sure. i’m at grillbys’

Going out at midnight in the cold may not be such a good idea. Back when you still lived in human society, every child understood that there were hours where children shouldn’t be out.

Things go bump in the night. Your current time was certainly off-limits.

Ebott Town - the nation of monsters - should be safe, right?

Then again… crooks could just drive into your town if they wanted. Maybe it would be better to Sans meet you halfway, so you messaged him just that.

‘ok. use the main road. see you there.’

You changed into your winter clothes.

Walking in silence was an art you learned from watching TV. Heels first, then plant the rest of your foot down in a fluid motion. Repeat until you arrive at the desired destination.

It’s snowing outside. You put on your boots, grabbed the keys and reached for the umbrella. Before heading out, you scanned the darkened house for one last time for signs of sneaky Mom.

She’s not around. You didn’t want to disturb her sleep. She still needed to teach one more day before the weekend began.

You head out. Street lights illuminated the main road that led to Grillbys.

At this hour, anyone who’s awake would be indoors. Winters on the Surface were much colder than Snowdin. Cave temperatures tend to be more consistent.

The silence allowed you to think.

And your thoughts started to spiral downhill.

You remembered what you did.

You recalled Aunt Cenna’s stories.

You wondered if your sins will catch up on you.

The images of your tainted past haunted your mind.

What if your dusty stains crossed over the timelines?

Will it have a compounding effect? Like one of the many animes you watched with Alphys?

The more you thought about it, the more frightened you became.

“Hey kid.”

A familiar deep voice greeted you. When you looked up, it’s Sans. Snow dusted on his jacket. Since he’s a skeleton, he lacked the body heat to melt them.

Crushing guilt gripped your heart.

“Frisk?” He asked you again.

Cowardice got the better of you.

You turned around to retreat, hanging your head low so Sans couldn’t read your face.

“What’s wrong?”

The voice changed locations. When you looked up, he’s there. Standing right in front of you.

Again, you turned around and tried to escape his gaze.

Again, he teleported into your view.

His sockets were dark. “Did something happen?”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you gripped the umbrella’s handle tight and dashed into a random direction.

Sans tried to block your way, but you ran around him.

Left. Right.

Sans in the front. Sans in the back.

No matter where you turned, how fast you ran, or how quick you avoided your blue skeleton friend’s presence…

He’s always there: always one step ahead of you.

He said that he wasn’t always looking at what you did, but you could never tell if he told the truth. Someway, somehow, his eyes always saw through your facade.

When you’re good, when you’re bad.

When you killed on an accident.

When you killed in the name of an experiment.

He knew.

He’s a prodigy. Of course. He had the brains to analyze the smallest of details.

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Hiding from him was futile.

And yet here you are, fleeing because you couldn’t look at him in the face.

The umbrella became a burden. You tossed it aside and continued running down the snow.

You kept seeing Sans. He stood by the wayside until he’s out of your view. Then he’d teleport ahead of you again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until at one point he yelled: “Watch out!”

You felt your SOUL turn blue. Sans yanked you backwards against your will. Only when your feet dangled helplessly above the ground, you understood why.

Before you was a steep, icy slope. A busy highway stretched along the base of what was once a hill. Although it’s past midnight, cars continued to drive to and fro.

If the fall didn’t kill you, the traffic would have.

The both of you panted together on solid ground. It was a long run and neither of you were as fit as Undyne. Vapours rose from your warm breath, almost clouding your vision.

Sans’ ‘sweat’ had crystallized from the winter air itself. The way he stared at you… it was more out of confusion than judgement. “Why did you run?”

You tried to find your words, but you couldn’t construct a coherent sentence.

“Uh, we need to bunk in a warm place. It’s cold tonight. You could get really sick.”

No. Please don’t. You can’t explain this in town.

You knew too much.

You don’t want anyone to accidentally hear what you had to say.

“Then we could discuss this in our hideout. The lab.” He replied. “Why… flee?”

A trace of disappointment laced his question. After everything he had done, you still didn’t place full faith in him.

You curled your knees close to your chest. Between fearful sobbing, you explained what you had heard from your aunt about DEMONs.

Their history, their true meaning, the method they gain power…

If your memories persist through all those RESETs, what’s stopping LOVE from being carried over? What if they’re phantoms? What if they come crashing on your head after you die from old age?

You don’t want to hurt anyone.

You don’t want to lose your compassion and mercy.

You don’t want to become a DEMON after you die.

Because once you do, there’s nothing that could stop you from committing atrocious crimes.

That thought terrified you.

Looking at Sans reminded you of how much pain you had inflicted on the people who love and trusted you. The betrayal, the horror.

You broke down into a pathetic wreck, shaking from a mix of guilt, fear, and a worsening fever.

Sans squatted down to match your height. He may be a bony image of death on the virtue of stereotypes, but he’s speaking to you in the most sympathetic of voices.

“Hey…” he said. “All I see now is a frightened kid. Your LOVE is still at 1. Nobody died in your hands. What happened in the other timelines don’t matter.”

How would he know?

“C’mon. I’m the resident quantum physicist Seer here. I spent my entire life studying this stuff. Let me tell you something: you’re fine. Anime is not real.”

“‘Timelines stopping and starting, jumping left and right’. Notice I didn’t say ‘create new paths’? It’s just one timeline being overwritten. Which means you didn’t spawn a tangle of co-existing parallel worlds.”

“The numbers? They’re gone. You’re clean. You’re not going to become a DEMON overnight. Get it?”

Then what about Papyrus? How did he see everyone’s death, and you covered in dust?

“Paps’ Green aspect of his Eye.” Sans explained. “He can see the old timeline’s ‘fragmented data’ and reconstruct them into an image. They’re just dead, leftover illusions. Nothing more.”

…You asked if that’s the truth.

“Kid, I got no reason to lie.”

Sans had a history of being enigmatic, but this time his honesty shone through as clear as a true-blue cloudless sky.

Funny how perception changes from interaction. Skeletons used to be the scariest, spookiest thing in existence. Looking at them gave the heebie jeebies when you were tiny.

And now? Their bony figures represented the comfort of your two best friends.

You smiled a bit and thanked him for everything. He returned the gesture.

“C’mon, let’s have a snack at Grillby’s.” Sans tried to wipe away your tears with his chilly fingers. “I know a shor--”

After touching your cheeks for a few more seconds, he immediately planted his full metacarpus on your forehead.

Wow, you never realised just how nice an icy cold hand can feel on your burning skin.

…Burning?

Sans left eye gleamed blue. He was fraught with worry as he looked up and down, down and up, as if he’s doing a thorough scan of your physical condition.

“I know you’re ‘hot stuff’ compared to us skellies, but this is waaaaay off the charts. You’re gonna give Grillby a run for his money at this rate.”

Great. Your fever flared. You didn’t realise it until your adrenaline rush wore off.

You tried to stand, except your legs were jelly. Either it’s from the sprint or from your poor condition. Or both.

Sans propped you up on his shoulders. “Frisk. Like it or not, I’m gonna take you to a human hospital.”

No! You mustered the rest of your remaining strength to stand your ground. Just take you home. Some bed rest should be all you need.

“Kid,” he said “Getting such a huge fever is not a good sign for anyone. Worse for a human of your age.”

What if the hospital assumed the worst and thought Sans had hurt you? Remember what happened to Asriel and Chara? It’s going to spark a controversy.

You don’t want the budding diplomatic relationship to die just because you didn’t take care of yourself better.

“…But if we don’t get you checked, you're in for a bad time. Worse, you might die!” Said Sans.

Well, then you’d just RESET.

You think.

Death so far had never been permanent.

Didn’t he just tell you that you won’t become a DEMON the moment you die? If you croaked from illness in this timeline, you promised Sans that you’re going to lead the entire scenario back to this point… And not endanger your health by running in the snow.

“It’s not about that.”

He continued: “Each RESET, there’s a chance you’ll lose to Chara’s mindgame. That temptation will be there for the entire duration you walk the Underground. The less you die, the less likely the world’s gonna end. Right?”

…You agreed with him.

Sans glanced down on his own feet.

“You always put the welfare of Monsterkind first. We, no… I can never repay that. Taking you to a hospital is the least this lazybones can do.”

Even if it meant putting his life in danger.

If you thought of it hard enough, Sans was an all-or-nothing person. This is the brother who raised his sibling alone.

The thought of mayhem in the hospital fuelled you with determination to protect your friend.

Wait.

What if…

What about…

Aunt Cenna?

Sans cringed upon the mere mention of her name.

You could tell that they’re not on good terms. Still she's the best safeguard you have against racist knee-jerk reactions. She’s a human adult, after all. Plus, she might have medical contacts from the time she worked in a police.

“What if she sold us out?” he asked.

You chuckled at the thought and nudged Sans’ ribcage with your fist. If she tried to do any funny business, you trust him to whisk you away to safety.

“…Heh.” He smirked. “That’s living too much on an edge if you ask me. Say Frisk, I have a better idea. The first step of the plan is to head home. Okay?”

Okay, you said. You then pulled your arms closer around his shoulder: sign that you’re ready for his shortcut, and to entrust your life in his hands.