.

Not with a Bang but with

MAJOR trigger warnings on this chapter for underage alcohol consumption, depictions of depression, and brief suicidal ideation mention. I am… incredibly nervous over this one, considering just how serious and sensitive it gets. It gets pretty dark – a competitor, I'd say, for the darkest chapter in this story, though I still think there's a future one that takes the cake – so proceed with caution.

CHAPTER NINE:

This Endless Cycle of Worthless Garbage

oOo

The following week lasted five and a half days – another midday Reset. Then the world reset back to Tuesday again.

The time after that, the world reset back to Tuesday overnight, as it usually did.

Just the same damn thing, every time.

The same damn thing.

Mostly, anyway. There were still small changes. Papyrus complained about the granola bars for the very first time since a Reset and Sans froze in front of the cupboard, his hand hovering in front of the box. For a moment, Sans worried his brother was beginning to retain memories, but when he turned around, the look on Papyrus' face was certainly annoyed, but not unsettled.

"We haven't had granola bars in a few days now, bro," said Sans, frowning down at Papyrus. "We had – " he struggled to remember – "crab apples. We had crab apples for breakfast yesterday."

Papyrus blinked, then huffed. "SO? I still HATE granola bars. You should make fancy oatmeal like the cooks at the castle."

Sans gave a shrug, running a hand down his face. No, his brother certainly remembered nothing. It had to be déjà vu of some kind – that sort of thing was probably to be expected. "Well, too bad. I thought you said you were gonna be late to school. Granola bars are way quicker'n that fancy oatmeal. Geez, make up your mind, bro." He brought down the box and flashed Papyrus a teasing grin, but it was a little forced.

Papyrus sulked as he took his granola bar and peeled back the wrapper. "When I grow up," he grumbled, "I will become a MASTER CHEF, and I'll make really fancy breakfasts EVERY DAY. Like pancakes! And scrambled eggs… without grease!" He paused, then explained. "Grease kills your fighting spirit. It SLAYS it. That's what Undyne says. She says grease kills your fighting spirit with the exception of cheese fries, but you have to eat those in the warrior way, and she trains with the King so she knows everything."

Normally, his brother's chatter amused Sans, but today he was just tired. He sighed, leaning against the counter and staring moodily at his own granola bar. "Just eat your breakfast so we can go."

Papyrus groaned dramatically, but finally he complied.

And Tuesday continued on as usual, snow-wrestling and all. Though Flowey did not appear this time, affirming Sans' theory that the anomaly liked to change its playtime up a bit.

But his impatience was growing, and rapidly. When Sans sat down to help Papyrus with his math homework, which he'd practically memorised the answers to by now, he gave his brother a much shorter explanation than usual about the concept of "bringing down" in long division, leaving Papyrus more confused than ever.

Sans snapped.

He tossed the pencil down. "God, you don't understand anything."

Papyrus stared up at him, his eye sockets wide and brimming with hurt. Quickly he fumbled with his own pencil and hunched over his homework, drawing it a little closer.

There was a brief moment of lingering frustration, a delay in response, then –

Shit.

"Hey. Heya." Sans scooted his chair a little closer, putting an arm around Papyrus' shoulders. "Hey, babybones. I'm sorry. That was real stinky of me, I didn't mean it."

Papyrus peeked up at him.

"Hey." Sans stroked Papyrus's back a bit. "It's okay. Sometimes this stuff can be confusing, that doesn't mean anythin' about how smart you are, huh?"

Papyrus looked a little hesitant. "I don't even LIKE this. It's boring."

"Heh. You can say that again. But hey, how about we think of it like… not a math problem, but a puzzle, huh? It's a puzzle you gotta solve."

His brother sat up straighter, eye sockets brightening a bit. "And the Great Papyrus will solve it," he said, matter-of-factly, and pushed his homework out so Sans could see it.

But even as they resumed work on the homework, Sans' patience remained thin, and Papyrus was quiet. He didn't even demand two bedtime stories later that night.

Later, Sans flopped into his own bed, still dressed, staring up at the ceiling. God, what he been thinking? You don't understand anything. What was wrong with him? He knew Papyrus had been struggling in school lately, especially in math. And while he hadn't sat him down and had a proper talk with him, he knew his baby brother was a lot more sensitive about that than he let on.

What kind of brother was he?

Sans ran a hand down his face, trying to work up the will to switch his light out even as he felt himself slipping off to sleep. Welp. The anomaly would undo this day, eventually, and Papyrus would have no memory of it. It didn't even have to matter….

oOo

Wednesday came. Then Thursday.

The week carried on, linear, day to day to day.

The whole time, Sans waited tense, anticipating the next Reset. Anticipating the next jump back to Tuesday, to Papyrus jumping on his bed by way of morning greeting, to the same damn day he was starting to know off by heart. He'd let his guard down once, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake again.

But that Reset never came.

Not even as the days turned into weeks, and before he knew it, four months had passed. Four wonderful months, that were sure to be undone any day now. Sans knew better than to let himself live by false hope.

An old rule of thumb came to the surface of his mind: don't expect much.

It really was Rule One, wasn't it? And now that he thought about it, he'd been living by that rule well before he started raising Papyrus on his own. Heh. Funny.

And then something changed.

Time jumped back in another midday Reset (those were always the most unsettling; this one occurred while he was hanging out in the Judgement Hall, chatting with a fellow page), but Sans neither jumped back to the Tuesday nor woke up in his bed.

There was a sharp jolt (a lurch in the space around him) and then Sans found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen back home.

The sensation was a little like taking a shortcut, but far more unsettling.

He teetered on the spot a moment, dazed, as he tried to come to terms with his surroundings. For a moment, he almost thought he'd shortcut by accident. But then he realised that he could hear Papyrus playing with his cars in the living room, devotedly making every vroom and crash noise. There were leftovers heating up in the microwave.

He cut his eyes to the clock on the wall. 6:10pm.

But it had just been 2:15 in the afternoon.

He brought his hands to the sides of his skull. It was another Reset. It had to be.

The anomaly must have created a new Save point.

It was learning. It was discovering. It was progressing.

It was exploring its limits, and who could say what else it might try out.

oOo

The next day, after work, Sans stopped in at the local shop and bought a calendar, one with pictures of cars on it, and hung it up on the living room wall.

oOo

Sans was on shift in the Judgement Hall, leaned back against a pillar, eyes shut and grin faded. It was quiet about the castle today, with little work to do be done, giving him the chance to loiter about and think for a while. Night before last, Sans figured out that time had been Reset about three days back – irritating for certain, but well ahead of that one repeating Tuesday.

There had been no Resets since the anomaly had created its new Save point.

He supposed that, at the very least, he wouldn't have to experience that one Tuesday again.

The anomaly had moved past that.

At this current point in time, Sans was about a month shy of his seventeenth birthday, though it occurred to him that for him, mentally, it must have already passed – there'd been that big three-week Reset a while back.

Eh. Not that it really mattered all that much. How much difference did a few weeks or a few months make? Besides, he wasn't really up to lingering on it all that much. Thinking about this time stuff was complicated; it was giving him a headache.

Sans allowed his mind to wander. He thought about his brother, of which bedtime story they might read tonight, of what he might do with him over the coming weekend. Maybe he'd take Papyrus to the big library in New Home to pick out some books; it had a vastly better selection than the Snowdin Librarby and Sans wouldn't have minded getting his hands on a couple new sci-fi reads himself.

It was the King's voice that broke him from his thoughts, and Sans' eyes snapped open as he returned to full wakefulness. "Shit, sorry, Your Majesty – uh, sorry times two now – " Then he saw Asgore's expression, those brows come together in deep concern, brown eyes full of pain. Sans' own expression grew a little wary. "Uh… Your Majesty?"

The King was stooping down a little closer to his level. He seemed to be struggling to find his words. "Ah… there's been a bit of an – incident – at the Waterfall school. I'm cutting your shift a little early today, Sans."

The world narrowed to a point.

Never, in all of Sans' life, had a few small words been able to fill him with such an instantaneous cold dread. He hadn't known a few small words could have so much weight, and come with such implications of darkness. He was aware of his breathing hitching as his eyes widened, and he struggled to form the words. "You… "

Asgore's own eyes widened a bit. "Oh! Your brother is fine, you don't need to worry about him – " Sans felt himself relax, shoulders going slack with raw relief – "Forgive me. I did not mean to alarm you so. But… " He paused. "They are letting the children out early, and word is being sent out to their families to pick them up. The current circumstances are… Waterfall is preparing to enter lockdown mode."

Sans froze, tension re-entering his bones. Papyrus is okay, he reminded himself. Everything's fine so long as Papyrus is okay. "What… happened?"

King Asgore paused again. "After lunchtime recess, ah, a trio of eighth-grade students failed to come back into class. When some teachers went to search for them, monster dust was discovered on the grounds, in a back alley behind the school. The Guard have been called to the scene, naturally, and are investigating, but – well, you understand."

Sans just stared. Asgore's words seemed to come through a wall of water, muffled out. He felt dizzy.

"Sans?" King Asgore moved to lay a hand on his shoulder, and Sans jerked back; he hated it when he did that. The King moved back respectfully.

"I'm fine," he managed. "Dandy. Just… yeah, kinda..."

"I understand this information can come as quite a bit of a shock. Especially considering how close… " The King's voice was sounding more and more broken by the minute. His tone was notably forced.

"… how close it was to my bro, yeah." Sans ducked his head. "Your Majesty, I'd better get goin' now. Pick up Papyrus."

The King took immediately took a step back. "Naturally. Forgive me for alarming you. Afraid I have to go and contact the Guard now… see if there have been any – updates – notify the rest of staff… I think I ought to cut everyone's shifts off early today, really, yes, that seems… " He took to muttering to himself, losing coherence, as he quickly strode from the room.

Sans waited until he was gone before shortcutting to the Waterfall school.

oOo

Over the next couple of days, people stayed indoors, especially families with children. The day following the discovery of the children's dust, it was announced school was cancelled for Hotland and New Home, as well.

In the human murder mysteries Sans had found at the dump, the "police," which appeared to be the humans' version of the Guard, could examine the bodies of dead humans to figure out how they'd died. That was right, he remembered thinking as he read, humans leave their dead bodies behind; they don't turn to dust.

Monsters didn't have that advantage. When monster dust was found in the street (a rare occurrence regardless) it was difficult to identify the deceased, and harder still to determine the cause of death. The Guard could investigate the scene for any hints, but any conclusions they might make were really just conjecture.

As a result, rumours were rampant.

Some people theorized the children had been roughhousing – there were some long and trailing scuff marks in the mud around the place their dust had been found – but that a troop of eighth-graders could play so rough as to result in death seemed astronomically unlikely.

There were murmured fears that some Temmies had wandered onto the school property. The Temmies denied any association with the deaths upon questioning from the Guard, and while their word wasn't exactly trustworthy, the little evidence that could be gathered was in their favour. Besides, vicious as the Tems were, it wasn't in their character to kill on a whim.

The most popular theory involved a human, which got several people excited – a human hadn't fallen into the Underground in over thirty years, and while the human was certainly something to be feared, it meant that monsterkind was just that much closer to breaking the Barrier. For this human's soul would make six.

This particular rumour caught like a spark in the wind and spread, rapidly. Soon, everyone had their own version of the story. Monsters phoned the Guard to report supposed human sightings to the point that the Captain threatened to cut the phone lines for the entire Underground. If one were to go by every description of the human that had been provided, then the human had the ability to shapeshift into about forty different forms. Either way, soon the supposed human was all anyone could talk about, once they worked up the courage to venture out of their own homes again.

But where other monsters said human, Sans heard anomaly.

He didn't know for certain what the anomaly truly was, though he was well aware it could be a human. He couldn't think of anything else it might be.

On the fifth day after the incident, Sans prompted Papyrus to a conversation. His brother had been a little more quiet than usual of late, which was hardly a surprise. Sans had tried to avoid mentioning what had happened, had tried to take his brother's mind off things, but it soon became clear that that wasn't working.

Papyrus would recover eventually, but for now he was still rather shaken up. It would probably do him good to talk about it – poor kid was probably terrified. If Sans had been his age when three kids suddenly died at recess on the school grounds, he'd have been terrified too.

And besides, he'd been suspecting Papyrus was bottling up his own troubles of late. Sans worried it was a habit his brother had picked up off of him. It wasn't good for him, and it was a habit that was far too easy to build.

And so, a little reluctantly, as he was putting his brother to bed, Sans addressed the issue that had been plaguing the whole Underground all week. "Hey, Paps. You copin' okay – with what happened to those other kids and stuff?"

Papyrus shifted. "I'm fine! It's just very scary and very, very sad."

Sans stroked his brother's forehead gently. "You didn't know those kids at all, didja?"

Papyrus shook his head. "No. They were big kids."

Sans continued stroking his skull. "Heya," he said, managing a small smile. "You know everything's gonna turn out okay in the end, right? I'll keep ya safe. If there is a human down here, the Guards will find it and they'll… capture it, make sure it don't hurt any more monsters before sending it home. Just don't you go gallivanting across the Underground huntin' for humans with Undyne, huh? 'Cause I know what you two are li – "

oOo

– A jolt in spacetime.

Sans jerked awake, rocking on the spot. He was sitting on the living room floor with Papyrus, an enormous jigsaw puzzle splayed out in front of them. Papyrus was crawling around the carpet, hunting for a certain piece.

Sans' head was spinning.

Another Reset.

And, apparently, the anomaly had created a new Save point – he wished he had some way of detecting when a Save point was created.

He brought his hands to the side of his skull.

Papyrus' high, young voice brought him back down to earth. "Sans?" Sans blinked to find his brother had materialised at his side, crouched with his head cocked curiously to the left. There was however no missing the way his brows had come together in concern. "Are you okay?"

Sans tugged him into a one-armed hug. "Yeahh, I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout me. Just spaced out for a sec."

Papyrus huffed loudly. "Maybe because you're not paying ATTENTION. Look, I found a piece that fits over here!"

"Heh. Good job, bro." Sans let his hands fall to his lap, let his gaze stray off to the side. It fell on the calendar he'd pinned to the wall. Papyrus had been so pleased when Sans had bought the calendar, he'd been so excited that Sans was finally getting organised, and even more excited when Sans let him decorate it with stickers. Sans surreptitiously scuttled closer to get a better view of it.

He'd decided to cross off every day before he went to bed. And quickly scanning the calendar told him that he'd landed…

Six days ago.

One day before the deaths of the children.

He could have guessed it was before, of course, by Papyrus' cheerful demeanour, but all the same Sans felt himself relax.

The deaths had been undone. Repaired. Maybe the anomaly had seen what had happened and decided to set things right, maybe it planned to do something this time to stop the children from being killed. Maybe it planned to be there tomorrow to save them.

… or maybe the anomaly had killed the children, itself.

Sans let his gaze fall back down to his lap.

"After we finish the puzzle, we must pack my play kit!" Papyrus was saying. He was still crawling around on the carpet on the hunt for the correct puzzle piece.

"Play kit?" Sans repeated.

"Yes, my play kit! For my playdate at Undyne's tomorrow! I need to take all the best games and my puzzles and my foam sword and…"

Right. Papyrus had been scheduled for a playdate at Undyne's after school the day of the incident, but it had of course been cancelled given the circumstances. Sans had forgotten. He ran a hand down his face. "Sure thing, bro. I might grab an extra shift after work, then. Want me to pick ya up this time, by the way?"

Papyrus squeezed one eye shut to closer examine a puzzle piece. "No, brother! I'm nearly double digits and I can walk home by mySELF!"

Sans paused. "Maybe I'd like to walk ya home anyway, Paps. C'mon, you're staying for dinner so it'll be late – "

Papyrus huffed. "Just help me build my puzzle! Come ON, Sans, you're not HELPING!" He tugged on Sans' sleeve, and at last Sans gave a dry chuckle and rubbed the top of Papyrus' skull before turning his attention to the jigsaw. Maybe he could remember a thing or two from the last timeline…

oOo

The following day passed without incident. No monster dust was found on the playground of the Waterfall school, or anywhere else for that matter. Sans' shift ended at the usual time, and then, because Papyrus was going to play at Undyne's, Sans kept to his word and signed on for another shift. It never hurt to bring home a little extra gold, and while Papyrus' birthday wasn't for another four months, Sans wanted to buy him something special.

The extra shift ended at six. There was very little to do, so King Asgore just left Sans on duty in the Judgement Hall. It was a poor choice. Having nothing to do left Sans to his thoughts. And he really didn't want to be left with his thoughts.

The anomaly.

The anomaly had created three Save points thus far – and he could only assume they were going to make more. As far as he knew, anomalies couldn't venture earlier in time than their latest Save points. They could only jump back to them. Anomalies were powerful, but they weren't entirely omnipotent.

The anomaly had something to do with those kids' deaths. It must have.

And then it had undone everything.

Sans couldn't imagine why. Maybe it really had Reset with the intention of rescuing them this time round.

His shift ended.

Sans shuffled to the throne room to sign off with the other pages and castle staff. He heard the King ask him something, to which he responded with a noncommittal grunt. He shuffled through the castle, following his co-workers out into the New Home streets. He didn't know most of them, and they were a few years older than the pages he shared his shifts with.

The anomaly might have killed those children, or it might have tried to rescue them. Maybe that difference didn't matter.

What mattered was that both were in its absolute control.

"Hey, man," one of the older pages said to their friend, elbowing him in the ribs. "You're free tonight. Wanna grab drinks? I could do with a drink."

"Sure," said the other monster. "Yeah, I'm game. Where to?"

"The usual. Where else?"

"Yeah? There's that new place downtown… "

"Maybe another time."

Sans glanced up at them. Then he glanced at his watch. It was only ten past six. Papyrus would probably be having dinner now. He had time to spare. And money wasn't so short he couldn't treat himself once in a while. Anyway, Sans never treated himself, and he was tired.

Must be the extra shift.

The anomaly could do whatever it wanted, really. It could help whoever it wanted. It could hurt whoever it wanted.

People drank away their troubles, didn't they? Sans had never had alcohol before, had never even thought about it. But it was starting to sound awfully appealing.

The anomaly could do whatever it wanted, and then it could undo it all, so that none of it had ever happened.

But it didn't have to. It didn't have to Reset. It could create a new Save point, so that everything that had happened before it was set in stone. Fixed time.

People hurt. People killed. With no way of going back to help them.

A drink. Yes. He'd like a drink.

Sans followed the pages through the New Home streets. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going, but it couldn't be that far.

That a bartender might not be willing sell alcohol to a seventeen-year-old kid who stood at an oh-so-imposing four foot four didn't even occur to him until he'd followed the workers into the pub and climbed, with some effort, onto a barstool.

The pub was a small, homey sort of place, made all of warm, soft woods. A fire crackled in one corner. The place was dotted with old-fashioned armchairs and low, round tables.

Sans took no notice of any of it as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a large handful of gold coins, jiggled them around in his palm. When he looked up, he saw that the bartender, a tall, slim reptilian monster, was staring at him, her expression unreadable.

"Don't suppose you're here for the peanuts," she said, after another moment of staring. "Come on, kid, how old are you?"

"Eighteen," he lied.

She just stared at him, placing hands on her hips.

Sans shrugged, dropping a few coins onto the counter. "Well, I'm enough to work as a royal page, right?" He pointed to his uniform. "Ain't my fault if I'm a little on the small side."

The bartender continued to stare. "What can I getcha?" she asked, at last.

Sans lifted a shoulder. "I dunno. Whatever, I guess. Something… reasonably strong?"

She fetched a glass in her long, scaly fingers. "How about beer?"

He stared at her blankly. "Is that really strong?"

The bartender raised a brow. "… not an experienced drinker, huh? Sure. Strong enough."

"Then, sure I guess."

The bartender turned to a tap-like device on the bar, filled the glass nearly to the top, and handed it to him. "That'll be 45G."

Sans whistled under his breath, but counted out the coins and passed them over. "Thanks." He pulled the glass closer to him. He studied it for a moment. And then he tipped his head back and took a gulp.

His face contorted instinctually. The drink didn't taste bad, exactly, but it certainly tasted strange – a little bitter, and quite bubbly, with a sharpness that frothed just beneath it all. It tasted almost like a weird sort of ginger ale. Sans took a smaller sip, and this time round, it wasn't all bad. The beer gave off a nice feeling that warmed him up inside.

The anomaly could hurt whatever, whoever it wanted, and even if it Reset, Sans would remember. Traces left behind. An echo of choices made, of consequences.

Or it could just create another Save point and move on. If it wanted.

Sans let his shoulders relax, finishing off his drink in a few gulps even as his face twisted at its strong flavour. Maybe chugging wasn't the best idea. He chugged the beer down regardless, and before he knew it, he was staring at the bottom of his empty glass.

He set the glass down on the counter, moving to climb off the barstool. He should probably be picking up Papyrus soon.

Papyrus.

The anomaly could hurt Papyrus.

Sans swung his legs back around and waved to get the bartender's attention. She wore a nametag, he realised, but she was standing a little to his right and he couldn't read it from this angle.

"Hey," he said, once she came over to him. "That was actually pretty good. Could I have another one?"

The bartender hesitated until he dropped another 45G on the counter. Then she sighed, and snatched the coins up. "Just one more, you hear me?" she said, her voice carrying a note of warning as she held up one finger to complete the effect.

Sans shrugged. "Fine with me." He drummed his fingers on the counter as he waited for the bartender to prepare his drink. It gave him time to realise that his mind felt a little hazy.

Just slightly.

He should really be picking up Papyrus. Maybe this second beer wasn't such a great idea after all.

Then the drink was deposited in front of him.

The anomaly could hurt Papyrus. It could hurt him, and then it could Reset and undo it…

Or it could move casually on.

His gaze flitted to the door he should probably he walking out of right now. Then it returned to the beer. It bubbled away, and just looking at it caused his mind to fog over a little more.

Forget, it seemed to promise him, in a voice soft and airy like the foam that had gathered at its surface.

Forget. Sans closed his fingers around the glass.

Forget. He brought the glass to his mouth, and took a long swig. It made him feel warm inside. It felt like home.

Forget.

It was finished before he knew it, and he set the glass down hard on the counter. He lifted his eyes to the bartender.

"Take a look at yourself, kid," she fired at him, before he even had the chance to speak. "No more. Forget it. Go home. Oh, and if your parents ground you for a month, don't go telling them it was me who gave it to you."

Sans blinked at her.

Home. Right. He needed to get home. He was too tired to beg for more. He lifted a hand in a gesture of both thanks and farewell, then climbed down from the stool. The ground seemed to lurch. Sans swayed on the spot, blinking hard as he struggled to come to his senses, only to find them just out of reach.

He took hold of the stool to steady himself.

After a moment he let go. The world seemed a little more steady now. He began to shuffle from the bar.

Sans was vaguely aware that all eyes were on him as he made his way out the door. Stupid kid, most of them were probably thinking.

Outside, it had started to go dark: the Underground's caverns were lit with a kind of fire magic specially enchanted to brighten and dim in a way that mimicked the rise and fall of the sun. Their flame would never go out as long as the Barrier remained.

There was a costume shop next door and Sans leaned against it, reaching out to his magic to shortcut home. But his reach was just a little sluggish, and his magic felt far away and faint. A weak spark came to life, then faded tiredly out.

Okay. Fine. Whatever. He could walk.

On foot, Snowdin was, what, an hour from here? A bit more? Though Snowdin hadn't been his favourite childhood haunt, he'd made the walk enough times in the past.

Sans pushed off from the wall and took off. He rode the elevator to the Western edge of Hotland to save time.

The shadow of the Hotland lab fell over him, a looming reminder. Sans hunched his shoulders, as if that could put a barricade between himself and the memories. Gaster had hardly used his public lab, but the memories came to life anyway.

But the pain lacked the usual bite, more numb than actual hurt.

It had to be the booze. The beer had taken the edges off of Sans's pain.

Gaster.

The Resets.

All of it felt so far away.

If just a couple of drinks had this much power, Sans needed to get out there more often.

Sans carried on through Waterfall, his every step leaden and weighed down by the area's thick, dark, all-absorbing mud. Then, Snowdin, the area's crisp, firm snow crunching gently beneath his feet.

It took him two tries to get a grip on the key in his pocket, and another three to fit it into the lock. Finally, he turned the key, and stepped inside.

"… Sans?"

Sans looked up, and the world crashed around him.

Papyrus.

He'd forgotten Papyrus.

How could he have forgotten Papyrus?

His baby brother was standing halfway down the stairs, already clad in his pyjamas. His stuffed bunny dangled from one hand, and the thumb of the other was still stuck in his mouth where he appeared to have been gnawing on it, even though he'd finally broken that habit when he was four.

Judging by his attire, he must have been waiting for Sans to put him to bed.

Or maybe he'd given up and had been getting ready to put his own self to bed.

"… SANS?" repeated Papyrus, his voice coming out in a high, distressed whine.

But all Sans could do was stare. Papyrus must have walked himself home when Sans didn't pick him up as he'd been wanting to do last night. Probably feeling very grown up about it too. And he must have been so confused, so distressed, when his big brother wasn't even there waiting for him.

The door swung shut behind Sans with a slam. Sans lifted his eyes to properly meet his brother's. "Paps," he finally managed. "Paps, I… "

Papyrus's bunny dropped to the floor. And then he was hurtling himself down the stairs and throwing his arms around Sans, barrelling into him so hard he knocked him to his knees.

Sans didn't mind. His arms went around Papyrus instinctually. He rocked back and forth there, cradling his brother, stroking his back, his skull, burying his nasal bone in his sweater, his body wracking with silent sobs.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, over and over again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He kept saying it for a long time.

oOo

The anomaly created a new Save point the following day. The events of the previous night were set in stone, fixed time.

Papyrus would remember everything.

oOo

Months passed. Staggering. Jerking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth through time.

oOo

(Over the course of the timelines, Sans would celebrate his brother's tenth birthday exactly five times. The fourth time, Papyrus guessed what his presents were – a puzzle book and a remote-control race car, to add to his collection – before he opened them).

oOo

In New Home, a report was filed for a group of monsters who'd gone missing; they had never come home from their shifts. They were co-workers, technicians at the CORE. King Asgore told his employees to get home safe.

OOo

Two days later, piles of monster dust were found in a New Home alleyway, just around the corner of a workers' exit. The same exit the missing monsters would have been given access to. Nametags had been found among the piles of dust.

oOo

And then it was all undone, lives restored, strings pulled back into place. It had never happened. It didn't even matter anymore.

And the world reset.

The world reset.

He was –

The world reset.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The world reset… he… he was… the world, he…

(He was spinning Papyrus around in circles in the living room, using blue magic as his brother's size now made it awkward for him to pick him up physically. Laughing, laughter, Papyrus was shrieking with laughter as Sans suddenly sent him high in the air, caught him, flipped him around, dangled him upside down. He finally dropped him onto the sofa and dove in for the kill, tickling him mercilessly. Papyrus finally wriggled free, jumping up and down on the sofa in delight. "Again, Sans, again! Again, again, again!")

The world reset.

(He considered ending it, once, fleetingly. It would have been easy. But then he changed his mind. Because Papyrus needed him, didn't he, if he died Papyrus would have to go live somewhere else and who knew what would happen to him. And even if he did die, who was to say it would last? He could die and then time could be reset and he'd wake right back up again. What a joke).

The world reset.

(He was the end of a yoyo, the anomaly's toy, bouncing on a string. He tumbled down, and then he was pulled back up again).

The world reset.

Boing, boing. The world reset.

(He wondered if it knew).

The world reset.

The world re….

The world…

Again.

Again.

Again.