The plans had been made and the time had come to do battle.

The arena - the dining room, full of the smells of freshly baked snail pie, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, an unreasonably healthy salad, and lemonade made from scratch.

The opponent - the once-queen of the Underground, Her Majesty Toriel, who was setting out the pie with a cheerful and tender look on her face.

The weapon - knowledge gained through arts of utmost secrecy and power, by means best unspoken, a blend of truth and artifice cultivated with the aim of cutting to the depths of Toriel’s soul.

The stakes - the future of their relationship, the respect of Frisk’s god-king and master, any hope for truth and connection beyond superficial shared joys.

Frisk had made their bargain and was prepared.

“Would you grab the silverware, please?” Toriel asked as she made sure the pie was placed just so.

“Of course,” Frisk said, heading into the kitchen and asking about Toriel’s afternoon.

They enjoyed some small talk for a few minutes as dinner was served. Frisk hated lying to Toriel, but they did, implying that they’d hung out with friends and had fun instead of planning out angles of attack on her heart.

During a lull in the conversation, Frisk decided it was time to strike.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot, today,” they said, Toriel’s gaze taking a more serious cast when they spoke. “There’s a couple of things I think are worth bringing up right away. One, in order to even talk about the heavy stuff, I’ll have to bring you in on some top secret things.”

“Top secret?” Toriel said, grabbing another small piece of snail pie.

“You’ll understand when I tell you,” Frisk said. “I mean, I could try to tell you a few things without that, but it wouldn’t make sense. All that ‘it’s complicated’ stuff that didn’t make sense, it’s because you’re missing some important context.”

Toriel nodded, looking thoughtful.

“And, well, I’m kind of in charge of deciding who’s brought in on this particular secret,” Frisk said. “So, like I’d said before, no one else can decide I’m not allowed to tell you - other than Sans, and he wouldn’t.”

Especially since this timeline was going to be erased.

“I see,” Toriel said, a smile pulling at her cheeks. “So, even during that conversation, the issue was not merely your struggle with trust, but also uncertainty about revealing a significant secret. One relating to your work, I presume?”

“Not exactly,” Frisk said. “It relates to why I’m damned good at it, but that’s it. But anyway, so what I think is best is to tell you that secret first, and none of the emotionally heavy things. We’ll save that for another day - like within the week, I’m not trying to dodge telling you. But it’ll give you a chance to chew on something honestly cool and interesting, that’ll give you context for the heavier stuff later.”

“That sounds like a most excellent idea,” Toriel said. “But if you are going to be speaking a good deal, perhaps it should be after dinner?”

Frisk nabbed another forkful of the delicious, delicious potatoes.

“I’m mostly done anyway,” they said.

Toriel glanced down at the almost untouched snail pie. Frisk swallowed, speared some pie, choked it down, and followed it up with some more heavenly mashed potatoes. They’d already eaten their salad, especially since they were trying to be in Toriel’s good books. And all of it was monster food - magically cultivated, either in the growth or cooking process, to lose its physical properties and gain magical ones instead. There were a lot of perplexed scientists studying monster food, and Frisk was honestly curious what they’d discover.

“I suppose this is fine, then,” Toriel said with a small smile.

“I’ll give a little context for it first,” Frisk said. “Sans, Alphys, and I have all been studying this pretty hard - other than my ambassador work, that’s what I’ve mostly been doing these last four months. We don’t know much. Some ideas, lots of speculation, but it’s a slow process.”

“Scientific study generally is,” Toriel said.

With that, Frisk dove in. They explained their timeloop power, making mental note of Toriel’s reactions all the way through. They asked her to hold her questions until they explained the whole idea, and they told her basically everything, including the ability to reset to the beginning. After all, it’d be hard to explain the genocide route without that. They did have to hold back one aspect, however - Flowey didn’t want Toriel to be told pretty much anything about him, so they had to frame things like they were the one and only person who’d ever had this power.

“That is fascinating,” Toriel said, once they’d finished their explanation. “I have many questions. You say that you ‘reload’ when you die. Did Asgore kill you?”

“Lots of monsters did, actually,” Frisk said with a small smile. “I’m really good at combat now - you should see my training with Undyne, we spar a lot - but I was all kinds of pathetic back then.”

Toriel’s face was tight with pain.

“How… how many times have you died?” she asked and Frisk flinched.

“I, um, didn’t bother to count,” Frisk said awkwardly. “But really, it’s not a big deal-”

Their sentence was cut off by their phone ringing. Frisk checked it and saw that Papyrus was calling. They swallowed.

Shoot. They tried to think things through really quickly. If they refused to take the call or insisted on privacy, Toriel would think they were hiding something. Maybe. Probably. Because they were. If they took it, and it was a normal reason to call, that was best. If it was because Sans was missing… not ideal, but they’d just deflect him like they did Alphys and Undyne. Should be okay?

They didn’t have time to think more than that.

“It’s Papyrus,” they said to Toriel. “Let me take this really fast.”

They turned it on speaker, since it wasn’t like Toriel wasn’t going to hear him either way.

“Hello?” they said.

“FRISK!” Papyrus said cheerfully, though his voice was strained. “SANS IS NOT ANSWERING HIS PHONE AND HIS MESSAGE SAYS TO SPEAK TO YOU. WHERE IS HE?”

“He, um, had to leave,” Frisk said awkwardly. “An emergency situation came up that he has to deal with. He’s fine, but the situation is kind of a secret one, so I can’t tell you details.”

“OKAY,” Papyrus said agreeably. “BUT HE WILL COME BACK IN TIME TO READ ME A STORY, RIGHT?”

Frisk swallowed and tried not to glance at Toriel.

“He had to go far away, and his shortcuts are harder the further away he is,” Frisk hedged. “So, um, he might not. But he didn’t talk about his plans in detail - I just know the, er, ambassador mission side of things.”

“SANS IS ON AN IMPORTANT MISSION?” Papyrus asked.

“Yes,” Frisk said.

“... WHAT COULD HE POSSIBLY BE DOING?” he asked.

Uh. Frisk had to admit, he had a point. The only things that Sans was good at, from Papyrus’s point of view, were bad jokes and maybe some science stuff, neither of which matched with an “emergency ambassador-related mission.” They probably should have put at least a smidgeon of thought into what the cover story for Sans would be, but also, in their defense, they had no idea how long he’d be gone for. For all they knew, he’d come back at night for Papyrus’s bedtime routine.

They suspected he wouldn’t, though.

“He’s, um, been helping out with some stuff I’ve been working on,” they said. “Like I said, the details have to be kept secret. Sorry, I’d tell you more if I could!”

The look Toriel was giving them was not helping. Frisk felt sweat starting to bead on their forehead.

“HOW LONG WILL HE BE GONE?” Papyrus asked, sounding disheartened.

“A few days, but probably not more than a week,” Frisk said. “Just think of it as a vacation from awful puns for a while!”

“I DON’T WANT A VACATION FROM SANS,” Papyrus said sadly. “NO MATTER HOW MANY PUNS HE MAKES OR HOW MANY SOCKS HE LEAVES OUT.”

“I… I know,” Frisk said. “It sucks, and I’m going to miss him, too. A lot. Um… I’m chatting with Toriel about some things right now, but maybe when I’m done, I can come over and read you a story?”

“MAYBE IT CAN BE A SLEEPOVER?” Papyrus suggested. “I’VE NEVER SLEPT IN AN EMPTY HOUSE.”

Frisk flinched at that.

“S-sure,” they said. “I’ll pack a bag and bring some popcorn. Maybe we can watch a movie till bedtime.”

“THAT’S A GREAT IDEA!” Papyrus said. “IF YOU SPEAK TO SANS, TELL HIM I SAID GOODNIGHT!”

“Will do,” Frisk said. “See you in a couple of hours, tops.”

With that, they disconnected the call and tried to smile at Toriel’s stern face.

“So, yeah, um, back to your questions about-” they began, but Toriel cut them off.

“How much of what you told Papyrus was true?” Toriel asked, her voice completely no-nonsense.

This question was a trap and they didn’t see any realistic way out of it.

“Er, uh, what do you mean?” Frisk tried, but they just didn’t want to pull their work-face on Toriel.

Sure, they could dissemble and misdirect - they’d had some practice - but it felt so blatantly deceitful that it twisted their stomach to think of speaking like that to Toriel. There was a big difference between that type of double-speak and misdirection with politicians and with family that they loved.

Besides, they spoke so differently with their “ambassador hat” than they did normally, Toriel would instantly know what they were doing.

Not that this attempt was all that helpful. Toriel’s stern look shifted to being nearly a glare.

“Are you saying that you were truthful with him, then?” she pressed.

“A lot of it, I mean, I really don’t know when Sans will be back,” Frisk hedged.

“Sans is on an emergency mission, related to your work, with no forewarning, and you have time for a relaxed conversation with me, followed by a movie and sleepover with Papyrus?” Toriel asked dryly.

Frisk blanched.

“I cannot help but wonder what type of work, exactly, his absence is connected to,” Toriel went on. When Frisk didn’t immediately reply, she continued. “When did you last save?”

Frisk had no idea what to do. Their instincts were screaming “ABORT!” but it wasn't like they could reload to get out of this. They couldn’t reload till they had a solution! They didn’t know how else to escape.

“E-earlier this afternoon,” Frisk said, defaulting to the truth, as was their nature.

“When exactly?” Toriel pressed.

“Right after I got back from the grocery store,” Frisk said.

Toriel adjusted her glasses.

“Do you intend for me to remember this conversation?” Toriel asked in a low tone.

Frisk’s hands wrung together.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“I don’t want to hurt you, mum,” Frisk said, swallowing. “That’s my biggest motivation here, I swear it to you, I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“So you intend to undo the conversation we had shared before,” Toriel said. “All that we had shared today, all that I had learned. Because you do not wish to hurt me. Is that correct?”

Frisk felt backed into a corner. It felt like only three paths lay before them - truth, lies, or pushing Toriel away. But that meant failing in their task, which Sans had set for them, so they couldn’t.

In the end, lies just weren’t who they were. They bowed their head meekly.

“It is,” they admitted in a soft tone.

“You believe that it is better to manipulate me like this rather than to simply speak to me truthfully?” Toriel asked, bitterness and accusation heavy in her voice.

“No,” Frisk said. “I… I mean, that is…”

“Let me guess,” Toriel said bitterly. “It is complicated.”

Frisk flinched again and looked down. There was silence for a moment.

“I would not lose all that I have learned, all that I have gained,” she said. “Perhaps I can persuade you to change your course? To let what has happened come to pass, to let honesty guide us?”

Frisk swallowed.

“It’s the reason Sans left,” they said hoarsely. “He doesn’t want to interact with anyone in a dead timeline, knowing it’s all going to be undone. But he’s already failed commitments, his absence upset people, including Papyrus. He… he wouldn’t want me to continue this. I don’t even know if I can contact him. The plan is for him to take some time - he’s kind of emotionally shaken and we figured, if we were going to reset to fix the situation with you, he could take the time away from everyone to recover.”

Toriel gazed at them for a long moment, clearly thinking.

“Nothing I do is of any import, is it?” Toriel asked. “Every thought I have, every word I speak, it is for naught. It will all be undone.”

“S-save for any impacts on me,” Frisk said, looking down.

“That seems to be a very lonely existence,” Toriel said. “There is something that does not make sense, however.”

“Oh?” Frisk asked.

“Why is Sans going off to emotionally recover if his memories will be erased, as well?” she asked.

Frisk sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“We found a way to bind our souls together so his mind is brought with me,” Frisk said, looking down. “That happened yesterday. It was… an intimate process.”

“That explains a great deal,” Toriel said, then her face tightened. “Much is explained, now that I have had some time to think. For example, how you can feel guilty for killing people, and yet there not be a single person in the world dead by your hand. You have killed, and undone it.”

Frisk looked away.

“I was planning to mention that in the next conversation,” Frisk said softly. “I swear to you, mum, I was going to tell you everything in this timeline.”

“To see what I can forgive,” Toriel said. “To find out if I would hate you if I discovered who you are. So that you can decide what to tell me in the true timeline.”

Frisk winced. Everyone knew that Toriel was the brains of the royal family - why had Frisk been acting like she wouldn’t understand things without Frisk explicitly laying them out?

“Has it occurred to you to wonder - if I would hate you on finding out who you are, that perhaps I should hate you?” Toriel asked coldly.

That was a punch to the gut. No, punches didn’t hurt that much. Frisk choked from the pain of it, their heart twisting at Toriel’s words.

“I… I don’t want you to hate me,” Frisk whimpered, tears starting to flow. “I would rather us gently fade apart. And I didn’t think you necessarily would. I just… I didn’t know. What I said earlier is the truth, mum. I was afraid, that’s all. And I knew the way I’d handled our conversation hurt you - it hurt you because I’d been a coward who wouldn’t face it, and I wanted to be better than that. I thought it’d be okay to face things and fix it.

“I just… this timeline, I just wanted to find out if we could be okay, if you knew everything. There’s no benefit to you to know all this, if we’re just going to go our separate ways. It’d be an extra burden on your heart for no reason.”

“If I am not mistaken, you are suggesting that if I tell you that I want nothing to do with you, then in the true timeline, you would just leave?” Toriel asked.

“Not… not just leave,” Frisk said. “That’d hurt you, too, for me to just abandon you like that. I’d need to think of a plan.”

They swallowed.

“Is… is that what you want?” Frisk asked in a quiet voice.

Toriel sighed and closed her eyes.

“No,” she said. “I simply wish to understand the situation that I am in. How long have you lived with this power?”

“Since the day I fell into the Underground, so four months,” Frisk said. “But, um, subjectively, it’s been about a year and a half or so. I use it a lot as an ambassador.”

Toriel’s lip quirked in amusement and then her eyes widened.

“That is the real reason for the alarm app that Asgore mandated, is it not?” Toriel asked.

Frisk nodded.

“Whenever there’s a major accident or emergency, if it happened since my last save, I go and fix it,” they said. “Since I’m revealing everything - Sans has the ability to teleport, and can bring people with him. He couldn’t remember before, but he knew about my power, so I’d go to him and use the foreknowledge to prevent it. The app sends an emergency alert to my phone, and anyone who can contact me quickly. It doesn’t matter if I’m asleep, but it’s important I don’t save after an accident.”

Toriel seemed to relax a little.

“I believe I understand now,” she said. “You are accustomed to using your power to undo accidents that hurt people.”

Frisk nodded.

“What happened with me, then, is simply the same as your usual efforts, from a certain perspective,” Toriel continued. “An accident occurred, so therefore, you intend to use foreknowledge to fix it. I assume this part is normal, too - when you receive the alert, you do not immediately reload, but rather, go and gather more information, do you not?”

“You’re completely right, on every count,” Frisk said. “We… we generally have rules for how I can interact with people in dead timelines. Um. That is, timelines that I intend to reload. No personal interactions, and never any sort of manipulations.”

“That is clearly not the case in this one,” Toriel said.

Frisk exhaled slowly.

“You matter to me so much,” they said in a soft voice, tears brimming again. “And to Sans. T-the fact is, mum, I don’t know if I could be strong enough to confess to you, if it were in the true timeline. I… I could have just reloaded. I could have just fixed the conversation, by keeping you at arm’s length, letting you think I was refusing to answer for normal reasons. Like, y’know, privacy, embarrassment, that sort of thing. But… but…”

Frisk sniffed and wiped away a few tears.

“But the idea, the hope, that maybe… maybe we could have something real… something deeper… I wanted to try,” Frisk said. “I didn’t want to just never tell you anything. And Sans is afraid, too. He’s… he tries so hard to be good, mum. He really does. But he’s got some darkness in his past, too. We both hoped for something more real, and this whole reset thing means we don’t have to be afraid. We can just find out if it’s possible, then try.”

Toriel sighed.

“Come here, my child,” she said, standing up.

Frisk stood and was swallowed up in a warm and fuzzy hug.

“I am not pleased at how this has gone,” Toriel said, pulling back and looking at them. “I am especially displeased at the knowledge that I will forget everything. Do you have any idea how long Sans will be gone?”

“He said he’d come back when he got his head in order, and then we might delay if I needed a little more time to come up with a plan for fixing the mistake,” Frisk said. “I expect it’ll be a few days.”

“You have always been a person of your word, who favours honesty, so far as I could always see,” Toriel said, and Frisk nodded. “Even now, looking back, even in your deceptions, you were honest. Such as our conversation earlier - you were unprepared for how to handle the half truths, and did not choose to outright lie. I could see your face with Papyrus, how your lies pained you.”

“Truth is important to me,” Frisk said.

“I would ask you to promise me this,” Toriel said. “Do not reload until you have spoken to me honestly about your plans for how to move forward in our relationship.”

Frisk winced.

“I understand why you will not keep this timeline,” Toriel said. “I understand why you wished to fix the pains of our previous conversation. But even though I will forget, I would not be forgotten.”

A wave of emotions tore through Frisk at that.

“If you speak the truth, and wish for a relationship between us that is honest and real, then do not choose a path based entirely upon my ignorance,” Toriel said. “Let me, in full knowledge, be a part of that path. Promise me this.”

Frisk flailed inside. Their issue wasn’t with the promise, exactly… it was with Sans. It really wasn’t their nature to break their word. Their commitment to Sans hadn’t come out of nowhere, after all. Making this promise was a big deal… and what if Sans ordered them to break it?

They took a breath. It didn’t matter. Sans had told them to do their best and to treat this Toriel with respect. Talking to her about the plans was a reasonable ask. Sans would respect that promise.

“Okay, mum,” they said. “I promise. I’ll tell you everything and we can make a plan moving forward.”

Toriel smiled at that, but they saw the pain in her gaze.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, I have a great deal to consider and you have a charming friend who wants to watch a movie with you. Go ahead and be on your way. Do not worry about the cleanup. I will speak to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” they said. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

“Good,” Toriel said. “Have fun with Papyrus.”

“Will do,” Frisk said. “Goodnight, mum.”

“Goodnight, my child,” she said, and began cleaning off the table.

Frisk darted off to their room and collapsed against the door. That had not gone according to plan.

“That went well,” Flowey said dryly, popping up from the floor by their bed.

“Wait, you set up your tunnels to my room?” Frisk asked him, flabbergasted.

“Only just now,” Flowey said. “It made sense, if I was going to be spying on your conversation with Toriel, to set up some around your house.”

“I… I guess so,” Frisk said.

“Still, it’s very salvageable,” Flowey went on. “Her promise was stupid, though - what difference does it make to talk to her about a plan? She didn’t make you promise to make a plan she’ll agree with.”

Frisk just looked at Flowey with a sad smile. He really had no idea what it meant to have a real relationship with someone, despite his probably centuries of experience at trying. It wasn’t about making a plan that would work to manipulate her - that was never the goal, not really. It was about trying to find a way, despite the weirdness of the timeloops, to use foreknowledge to make something real. The promise, scary as it was, meant that whatever Frisk chose to do, Frisk would act in full knowledge of the true meaning of their choice.

“We’ll see how things go,” Frisk said noncommittally. “I’ve got to pack up for a night at Papyrus’s, and tomorrow I’ll be busy with Toriel.”

“Let me know when you’re going to talk to her, so I can come watch,” Flowey said with a grin.

“I… I don’t know if you should,” Frisk said.

“Oh, come on,” Flowey said. “You’re not going to tell her anything I don’t know. And this is great stuff! The look on your face when she called you out for lying? That was wonderful! I can’t wait to see how she reacts when you tell her that you killed her!”

Frisk groaned and started packing up clothes for the next day.

“You’ve got problems, Flowey,” they groused.

He grinned.

“So you’ll text me, right?” he pressed.

“Ugh,” they said.

If they refused to let him spy on them, and actually tried to stop him, they’d be getting into a conflict right around the same time they were trying to foster a good relationship between the three of them - Flowey, Frisk, and Sans. One in which Flowey had very good reason to worry that Frisk was going to sideline him. Placating him now would probably ease that worry, and if nothing else, would be ammo if he accused them of never letting him have his way.

“I would really, honestly prefer that you not,” they said. “The idea is uncomfortable for me. But, between your help and you being my friend, I will go along with this. I’ll text you.”

If nothing else, the knowledge they were being watched would help make sure Frisk didn’t accidentally slip with anything that Sans wouldn’t want known.

“Good,” Flowey said. “And while I’m at it, how about I join in with you and Papyrus tonight? Not for the sleepover, just for the movie. And I get a say in the movie.”

Frisk glanced down at Flowey.

“It really makes a big difference, Sans not being here, doesn’t it?” they said.

“Obviously,” he said. “It was only eight months from the time I awoke to the time that you fell - all those years, and it was the first time I’d made it to eight months.”

“Oh, come off it,” Frisk said. “You mentioned successfully killing Sans before - he couldn’t have stopped you from extending your loops from there. Your short loops were your own choice.”

He grumbled.

“True,” he admitted. “You know the frustration of only having the one save file.”

“I do, indeed,” Frisk said.

“So it wasn’t all Smiley Trashbag,” he said. “But, especially in the first few months of the loops, he was stupidly hostile towards me. The majority of my life was with that spectre hanging over my head.”

“It’s going to be difficult, trying to make you two friendly to each other,” Frisk said, and Flowey outright laughed at that.

“You do dream big, don’t you?” he asked in an exaggeratedly admiring tone.

“Always,” they said with a grin. “Anyway, I’ll finish packing up. You want to text Papyrus about you coming over?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling out his phone.

Frisk quickly packed some things into their backpack and wrote a note for Sans, leaving it on their pillow. They had no idea if he’d be coming to their room, but if he did go looking for them, it’d be the obvious place.

After that, Frisk met Flowey outside and gave him a ride to Sans’ and Papyrus’ place. They argued about what movie to watch - Flowey wanted a psychological thriller or horror movie, but Papyrus hated those. He wanted movies that were sweet, sappy, and uplifting - his favourite movie of all time was about cartoon ponies. He did also love things involving puzzles and traps, though, so Frisk managed to eventually, with some desperate internet searches, settle on an older movie about an “archaeologist” with a whip, diving into a trap-filled dungeon of sorts.

They had a good time, and Frisk ended the night by reading a story to Papyrus. He did try to ask about Sans, but Frisk honestly told him that they hadn’t heard anything, but it wasn’t a dangerous situation, so Sans should be fine. Afterwards, they took the extra blankets and pillow and snuggled up on the couch. The very place they’d first propositioned Sans, in fact.

Those were also some enjoyable memories, now that they were thinking about it. Especially two nights prior, where he’d first touched them sexually, where he’d bound them to being unable to cum by their own hand. Especially when they let the thoughts play out to where that had led to, when he had finally made them cum…

They didn’t want to bother Sans, but… well, they couldn’t resist one last thing.

Frisk: Goodnight, Sans. I hope you rest well.

With that, they fell into the memories as they tried to sleep. They did try to satisfy themself, but it just wasn’t good enough. Instead, they just let themself be tormented by the memories, enjoying the thought of how much Sans would enjoy that torment. With that satisfaction of sorts in their mind, they tried and eventually managed to sleep.