"It's my fault, Tori," Sans explained, "We were playing too rough and I fell down the stairs like an idiot. I'll clean up the mess if you wa-"

"Nonsense," she interrupted, setting Frisk down "I am just glad that you are alright. I shall clean it up, Papyrus, could you watch the oven for me?"

"Yes, your highness!" Papyrus ran excitedly into the kitchen and Frisk sat on the couch next to Sans.

Sans sat up, sighed, and stretched his arms over his head, grunting in satisfaction as his bones popped. "Dude, Frisk, I feel drunk right now. How's my head lookin'?" Sans asked. Frisk took a look at the nearly indiscernible crack on Sans' head and told him that it was nearly healed and looked fine. Despite all this, just looking at it made Frisk sick to their stomach. They were hit with a sense of borderline nostalgia when they looked at it, and it wasn't the good kind. "S'good, right? I knew it would be." Sans noticed the look of disgust on the human's face and began wondering what was wrong. "It's okay, kid. Just a crack, these things happen. I'm gonna be fine, I promise."

Without warning, a vague memory flashed in Frisk's mind. In this fuzzy and foggy memory, Sans was bleeding bad from his chest, and Frisk was holding a bloodied knife that glistened in the light of the king's castle hall. Sans was hunched over in pain as he held his wound before saying something about Grillby's and leaving. The hand that held the knife... didn't quite look like Frisk's. It was similar, yes, but it was not theirs. For once, this memory didn't frighten Frisk in the least. If anything, it piqued their interest. Once the memory faded, Frisk wondered if there were any signs of the attack on Sans. Out of curiosity, Frisk lifted up Sans' shirt to check his ribcage. No marks, no cuts, just clean, white bones. With a sigh of relief, Frisk returned Sans' shirt back to its normal position. When they looked up at the skeleton's face, a deep blue was spread across his cheeks and where his nose would be. It was amusing how easily flustered he got.

"Are you feeling okay, Sans?" Toriel asked as she stood up from the freshly cleaned carpet.

"I... yeah, I'm all good."

"Oh good. I am glad that you are not sick."

Sans looked over to the human at his side with a stern expression. "Frisk. What the heck was that all about?" Frisk shrugged, not wanting to worry their friend. "Well, whatever. But I-I've got somethin' to tell ya, whether you believe it or not." The apparently drunken skeleton leaned on Frisk and took a deep breath. "I'm not actually leaking ketchup. It's, uh, not blood, either. Do you know how I can sense when everything has been reset or saved? Do you know how I know about Gaster, the flower, and that demonic human that might have killed us all once before?" Frisk shook their head slowly. "You're not the only one in this house that's filled with Determination."

Papyrus walked into the living room and told Toriel that the oven was fully heated. He then proceeded to wedge himself between Frisk and Sans and wrapped his arms around both of them. "Friends! Would you all like to go sledding today? I saw it on television and it looked like fun! Waddaya say?"

Sans shook his head. "I'm gonna hafta turn your offer down, bro."

"What? Why's that?"

"Whelp. Both Frisk and I are hurt, and sledding is dangerous, right? I don't want you to get hurt too."

Papyrus sighed heavily and stood up. "What are we going to do today, then? Just sit around?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Of course it does, you lazy bum! That's all you ever do. But today, you have an excuse. You actually ran around for over ten seconds, so I'll let that go." Papyrus went upstairs, presumably to make a new video for his channel.

Sans leaned back on the couch and groaned loudly. "Man, I had so much planned today. Now, I can barely lift my head. Heh. That's what I get for trying to have some fun for once." Frisk asked Sans what they meant earlier about someone being filled with Determination. "Oh. Yeah, that red stuff from me is literally liquid determination. I found Gaster's notes on it a while back and used his experiments on myself. Most monsters' physical forms... can't even handle the smallest amount of the stuff. You know, that's because their bodies are their Souls, and monster Souls are really weak and frail. But, Gaster was the royal scientist for a good reason. Even though he's dead, he's living on because of Determination. He could even come back if someone screwed up." Frisk tilted their head in confusion. "What? Oh, I should have explained that he used Determination on himself and that might be why Papyrus and I have a tolerance to its melting properties. That's probably also why with enough effort, he could be revived." Sans laughed before continuing. "Or maybe I was hit on the head a little too hard. I dunno. Believe what you want, I'm taking a nap." And like that, Sans was fast asleep.

There was a moment in time where Frisk felt as if someone was trying to speak to them. They looked around the room, saw that nobody was there, and then shrugged it off before going into the kitchen to help Toreil out with whatever she as cooking. "Oh, hello, Frisk! If you are here to help me cook, I am afraid that you are too late. The chicken is already in the oven. But if you would like to come with me to read a book until it is ready, you are more than welcome." Frisk nodded happily and took Toriel's hand as she walked them to her chair. Toriel picked up a thin book with a sweet looking mouse on the front, placed Frisk in her lap, and began reading. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He lived with his mother and father, who loved him very much and bought him many, many, toys, including a stuffed mouse. The boy loved this mouse more than any other toy." Toriel showed Frisk the pictures in the book that included the boy with his parents, his room, and his toy mouse. Frisk got curious about the family they saw and asked Toriel who their dad was since Toriel was their mother. "Oh... Frisk, sweetheart... not all little boys and girls have both parents. But, this does not make you any less of a person. I love you very much, Frisk." Frisk told Toriel that they loved her too. "You are such a sweet child. Now, let us finish the story."

As Toriel read the rest of the story to Frisk, the child could have sworn that they heard someone speaking to them. This time, it was more clear, but Frisk was still unsure of what it was saying to them.

"Somethin' burnin, Tori?" Sans asked lazily.

"Oh my. I have to check on something, Frisk." Toriel sat the small child on her chair and then went into the kitchen to pull the chicken out of the oven.

"Psst. Frisk," Sans called from his seat, "C'mere. I gotta tell ya somethin." Frisk carefully removed themself from Toriel's giant seat and then plopped down next to the drowsy skeleton. "You see them too, right? The kid that killed me in another timeline? Can you at least hear them talking?"