So I wanted to pay homage to my favorite character in any game but I didn't know how. Until I discovered some amazing fanart and based this and the next two chapters off of them.

To explain, in this story, if Frisk is killed by a boss (Sans, Papyrus, Asgore, etc.) it causes a full reset of the timeline to when she fell. If she dies to a lesser monster (lesser dog, greater dog, shyren, etc.) she resets to her last save.

Underlined are Echo Flowers

Italicized are dreams

Bold is internal voices

No one had come by the whole day.

Sans blinked slowly, head drooping as he leaned on the counter of his hotdog stand. He was so tired, he could just close his sockets and go to sleep. Don't. He wrenched his eyes back open. That's right. HE was right. Sans couldn't sleep; Frisk—hopefully Frisk, please Frisk this time—hadn't been by yet. At least, that's what he told himself.

In reality, he was afraid. He couldn't bear to dream. To remember what had been and hadn't been at the same time. But he was so tired, and he could only keep himself occupied for so long. Stay awake, Sans. Please. He tilted his head into his palm. Maybe he would go joke with Toriel from the otherside of the door. But what if she isn't there? Just stay awake, Sans. Perhaps… He yawned, a trip to Grillby's would…help…

NO SANS. But it was too late. Sans closed his sockets and saw.

This wasn't how it was meant to be. It had never been like this.

"I KNOW YOU CAN CHANGE, HUMAN." Papyrus's skull lay on the ground, as his body turned to dust, mixing with the blizzard raging around them. Frisk stood above him, red eyes glinting and white teeth blending with the frenzy of snow flakes. Frisk didn't have red eyes; that wasn't Frisk. It was rarely Frisk anymore. PLEASE SANS, I CAN'T WATCH THIS AGAIN! SANS! Not-Frisk raised the knife in her hand, grinning maliciously. The red light of her heart glinted off the dusty blade. Sans tried to move, to stop Not-Frisk but he couldn't move, paralyzed with disbelief. Sans could only scream as Not-Frisk stabbed the blade through the top of Papyrus's skull, twisting it with a horrible giggle in Frisk's voice, shattering it and turning it to dust. All that was left was Papyrus's tattered red scarf, quickly being buried underneath the onslaught of snow.

"PAPYRUS!" Sans screamed, falling to his knees in agony, his voice swept away by the raging storm. Not his little brother, his cool little brother. He can't lose him. Sans, wake up now! He clutched his skull, tears streaming from his empty eye sockets as Not-Frisk laughed, kicking the scarf out of her way. Sans had known this would be a different run, unlike the others but this… Sans wasn't prepared for this. Sans, it's not real! Wake up! Sans started hyperventilating, his ribs aching as his heart broke. No, this wasn't happening. Frisk—but it wasn't Frisk—would never hurt Papyrus. PLEASE Sans, wake up!

He wouldn't forgive her. Not-Frisk would pay. Pay for replacing sweet Frisk, pay for killing Toriel, pay for being a DIRTY BROTHER KILLER. Sans wake up right now! Sans stood up, left eye socket glowing blue. Not-Frisk wouldn't get away with this. Sans gathered up Papyrus's scarf, wrapping it around his neck. Not-Frisk would pay, but Sans couldn't do anything until she reached the castle.

Heading home, tears blurring his sight, Sans choked on a sob. Rushing into Papyrus's room, he fell onto the baby-bones racecar bed that Ga…HE had given Papyrus all those years ago. Sans… It hurt. It hurt so bad, it near broke his funny bones. "Papyrus…" Sans sobbed quietly on his brother's bed, clutching the scarf with all his might. He stayed there for as long as he could, as days passed, before he had to continue on to judge Not-Frisk. To judge that DIRTY BROTHER KILLER in the Hall of Judgement.

As Sans walked along the path, he passed the Echo Flowers dotting the way. What he heard made him cry. "STANDING UNDER THE SKY, LOOKING AT THE WORLD ALL AROUND… THAT IS MY WISH." Sans…

"pfft…*laughs*" Sans… I... I

"…HEY! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T LAUGH AT IT!" His little baby-bones brother… Sans stumbled, falling to his knees, clutching the tattered red scarf.

"Sorry, it's just funny. That's my dream too." Tears streamed down San's cheek bones, and a sob caught in his throat. His face was in his hands, bone fingers scraping across a bone face with a sicken screeching. It wasn't meant to be like this. It was never meant to be like this.

"SANS!" Sans jerked himself awake, eye socket's opening to see Papyrus standing in front of him. That's right, Sans said to himself, as Papyrus lectured him about his 'Lazy-bones' behavior. That was another run. Papyrus was fine. Toriel was fine. FRISK would be the one here this time.

Sans was fine. Don't lie to us both. Just... Don't go back to sleep. Sans stood up, yawning.

"SANS! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?! GAH! HOW ARE YOU THE OLDER BROTHER?" Papyrus planted his hands on his hips, leaning back. Sans smirked, stuffing his hands in his jacket.

"I was born first, says so on our certificates. No BONES about it." Papyrus threw his hands up in the air and stalked off, yelling back for Sans to change his puzzles. Sans watched him go, smiling. That was his little bro... He closed his sockets, sighing. It was time. We could wait for her to come to us. It doesn't have to start that way. But it did.

The woods were snowy, as with everytime. The door to the Ruins was closed, but the snow around it showed it had opened recently, and small footprints led away from the door. Turning, Sans could see the faint form of Frisk-please be Frisk-walking briskly through the snow drifts. Sans trailed closely behind, slippers sliding through the snow with soft swishes. And if it wasn't Frisk...He stopped looking down at the branch in the path. He smashed it. Frisk—she turned around, Sans. It's probably her—spun around and investigated the noise. She saw nothing but the shattered branch, as Sans was watching from the trees. When Frisk-but was it truly her? Sans had been wrong before-continued on, he slipped behind her, silently trudging through the snow. And as always, he stopped her at the bridge.

"Human." Frisk froze up, shoulders locking tight. "Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand." This was it. The test. Was it Frisk? Please let it be Frisk. He couldn't take another Genocide run, not after the last one. Sans flinched away from the thoughts, the memories of events that never happened, both good and bad. He never could pick which one hurt more; the horrible ones, or the great ones. Frisk turned around, and hesitantly took his hand-and broke into giggles as the whoopee cushion let out its call. A huge grin split Sans's skeletal face as she sniggered.

It was her. It was all going to be alright.

This time. Sans tightened his grip ever so slightly, smile clenching as he laughed. This would be the last run, no more RESETS. He would figure it this time, how to stop the rewind. He wouldn't lose anyone this time. Not even her? He looked down at the sparkling brown eyes of Frisk—not red, not like HER—and gave a grin at amusement. No, not even her. Not this time.

This chapter was based off of two images. The first was Yeah! Still! By Nhaigen on Tumblr and the other was (You hear a passing conversation) by Wezryl on Tumblr. I recommend going and looking at them. I was also listening to the Undertale Parody of Stronger than You. Love that song. Definitely go listen to it if you haven't heard it.

Bonus points for whoever can guess who the voice in Sans's head is.

*EDIT: The fonts won't work, so this will be plain. Sorry folks. If you know how to get special fonts (Papyrus, Comic Sans, ETC.) to work, drop me a line. I would love for this to look how it was meant to. I know its possible. I've seen fonts in other stories. TELL ME.

**EDIT: Made the formatting a bit easier on the eyes. Sorry about that guys.