There was always something wrong about seeing a child with a knife. Toriel would admit that. Even when her first human child, Chara, had used one to help weed the garden with her husband, she had found the sight ever so wrong. The stare Chara would give never did help, wide red eyes staring down the culmination of Toriel's being itself.

Even when Frisk helped cook, so many years later, Toriel found the sight to be far worse. Something about seeing Frisk with a knife made her step back, clutching the front of her dress with the hands that never usually trembled, yet did anyway.

The knife had come from the kitchen. Just as the others did.

There was several scattered across Frisk's desk, thrown across a calendar that Frisk had insisted to buy. Distant mumbling echoed through the room, the ticking of the clock creating the sense of repetition.

This wasn't the first time Frisk had worried Toriel. Far from it, and far from the last time, as much as Toriel would wish this behavior would be over.

Everyone had thought this was a phase. Toriel as well, but as she crept over the papers that had grown over the last week, it was rather clear this was getting out of hand.

"... take a piece," Frisk had been mumbling, the light from the morning rays dancing atop of their brown hair.

"Frisk, dear?" Toriel asked, gently grabbing their shoulder. "Why are you awake before school? You never wake up early. Is everything alright."

"I'm not going to school."

"What?"

Determined yellow eyes looked up at Toriel, the hand that was writing previously now stopped.

"I'm not going to school today."

To say that was a surprise would be untruthful. Toriel had seen this coming for sometime now, as Frisk's involvement with school has been rapidly declining. Somehow, their grades had managed to stay up in spite of their lack of attention during class, homework and tests being graded perfectly. As if Frisk already knew all of the problems, and just couldn't be bothered to keep their focus on the subjects.

"Are you sure?" Toriel asked, crouching down next to Frisk. "Do you have-"

"I don't have a fever," Frisk interrupted, not looking away from their papers. "And I know it's Taco tuesday in the cafeteria, I'm not being bullied, and I don't have any big tests I'm trying to skip."

That was a response Toriel was not expecting for sure. She took a step back, hand resting in the air, held back from confusion. The clock continued to tick.

Toriel swallowed. She felt like she's seen this, too.

"Are you alright, my child?"

"I'm fine, Mom."

Eyes drifted upwards towards the clock on the wall. The once pleasant ticking now felt off, unwanted in the household by both residents. When she caught sight, Toriel sighed, mind grateful for a distraction from the troubled child next to her.

"That's odd." Fur ruffled under her paws. "The clock is ticking backwards."

Frisk finally took once glance over. "If you look online, there's an old shop downtown that fixes clocks. You should go get that fixed after work."

Ah, yes, Frisk. Toriel really did want to scurry back to her room, let this incident be washed out from her mind and never speak of it again. But she knew that would prove fruitless to their relationship. Toriel did the same to her problems with Asgore, and that in itself did not end well. No need to repeat it with Frisk.

"Frisk, sweetie," Toriel said, returning to the child's side once more, "I know you've been a little stressed lately, but I wish you would talk to me."

Yet Frisk didn't, continuing to write down random times. Images of men in suits were pulled up on their phone, scrolling through the additional tag of 'creature'.

"Do you really not want to attend school?" Toriel asked.

"Yeah," Frisk confirmed, "Can you just... please leave? I'll make it up tomorrow, just not today."

A defeated sigh escaped Toriel. "Fine, if you insist. You can have a mental health day."

Under normal circumstances, Toriel wouldn't have allowed any child of hers to skip school simply by acting out. These weren't normal circumstances, to say the least. Frisk has always been a bit off, but recently, everyone was able to tell something has been happening to their beloved human. The poor child was going nuts, constantly acting in weird ways, getting more distant. They might just need this break.

Frisk clicked on a picture, sliding down to find more like it. Toriel tilted her head, looking down.

"Have you recently gotten into those horror stories? I have heard about Slenderman, he is a popular one, though you must understand he isn't real."

"He's not who I'm looking for. Slenderman wouldn't dust Sans that way, he goes for children."

The sheer knowledge Frisk just portrayed without any hint of a joke sent a shiver crawling down Toriel's back.

"What about Sans and dusting?"

"Nothing Mom. Just go away, please?"

Without anything to add to the conversation, Toriel admitted defeat, retreating from the room.

She needed backup.

~~~~~~

"Problems?"

"It's especially bad today, yes," Toriel said over the phone, his voice slightly static. "I'm not sure what happened, perhaps Frisk just woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Sunlight bounced against the gleaming white skull as Papyrus approached the door to Toriel's house. So Frisk was having problems? Nothing the Great Papyrus couldn't solve! Maybe they were just lonely, and needed a visit from their favorite tall skeleton! Middle school could be very tough for children!

"Do not fret, for I, the Great Papyrus, shall cure Frisk of their-"

The front door was being swung open before Papyrus could even knock, his hand halting in the air. There stood Frisk in all of their glory. Well, if glory meant messy air, baggy eyes, and the general look of a college student despite being so young.

"I shall let you know afterwards, Toriel!" Papyrus changed his words from what he had planned to say. "Goodbye!"

"Good luck, dear! I'll talk to you later!"

"Bye Toriel!"

Papyrus barely managed to end the call before Frisk was hooking their hand under his scarf, dragging the skeleton inside.

To say this was different wasn't a true statement, as Frisk always seemed to have a good grasp on time. The human child did this often, opening doors right before people knocked, always moving one event to the other as if they knew it was going to happen. Frisk was always like that.

Papyrus was led to the living room, seated down onto the couch. The question of the purpose for this seating lingered in his mind as he looked out of the window, catching sight of two birds in Toriel's lawn. Grass fluttered under a soft wind, the morning taste of a fresh day drifting through the trees. What a beautiful day!

"Someone is going to die."

Okay, nevermind.

Frisk now had his full attention just with those words, his usual goofy smile dropping without any further prompting. Distant ticking continued.

"What?" Papyrus asked.

"I need your help," Frisk said, closing their eyes to suck in a breath. "And I can only have your help."

"What do you mean?" Papyrus asked, "Is there a human attack?"

"No, this isn't human or monster," Frisk said, sitting down across from him. "But before you ask, no, we can't tell anyone else. I'll explain later. Right now, I have to tell you about resets. I can go back in time."

"... What."

Papyrus wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but this felt familiar. Like he's gone through this before. He could almost recall seeing that exact expression on Frisk before. The couch felt the same, as well, as if they had sat just like this. His soul felt heavy.

"And saving," Papyrus whispered.

His skull hurt. He was getting a headache.

Why did he recall that specific word?

The birds continued outside, before the sound of a thud hit against the side of the house. Another followed, evidence the beauty Papyrus had just been observing was now gone.

"You know what resets and saves are, don't you?" Frisk asked.

He couldn't stop the nod. It was as if a switch was flipped in his brain, enacting certain memories to enact more knowledge upon him. Resets, saves. He felt like he should believe it.

Because it was real, wasn't it?

A dust pile, a paper crumpled in his hand, looking up to find-

Heis hands clutched down onto his red scarf, choking on his words when a sudden image forced itself into his brain.

"How many times have we... had this conversation?" His voice felt so timid now, his previous perky attitude gone.

Frisk drew their knees to their chest, intense yellow eyes looking at him. "I lost count."

Papyrus nodded, silently connecting the pieces. It felt like he's done this before, like he's learned about resets and saves before. The moment it was brought up, everything started to fall into place, pulling back the thin blanket of deceit covering his life previously. Papyrus knew about resets, he's learned it before. He just forgot, because he was reset as well.

Until Frisk was telling him.

The knowledge continued to build. No more memories came with it, thank Toby Fox, but the puzzle pieces started to connect despite his mind having never tried to piece together anything before. They had this conversation many times, Papyrus had learned these facts so many times that he could remember them just by simply being reminded by Frisk. When one reset this many times, and did the same thing over and over, it would be easier and easier to remember. Just how many times has Papyrus learned about resets and saves to the point where learning it barely even shocked him?

Resets, saves, save points. Frisk had the power to turn back time through this, saving their new family whenever one would get hurt.

"When was your last... you know, save?" Papyrus asked.

"I had done a few complete resets to try and figure out how to stop what happens." Frisk shook their head. "It didn't work. My closest save was this morning, I reloaded to it."

Papyrus felt a sick undercurrent of utter fear suddenly flow through him. There was still time to turn around and go out of the front door. The sudden knowledge of resets and saves, while it should have scared him, was barely even news to him. But the next question on his mind sent him repeating the same dust covered image from before. His hands felt cold.

"Why did you reload?"

A gentle, almost silent whimper escaped from Frisk, the young child pressing shut their eyes before they finally let loose the truth. "Every reset on the surface, Sans dies on the same night. No matter what I do, what you do, he always dusts away with the same note left in the area."

Papyrus looked like he wanted to cry. However, the skeleton forced back his worried expression. "What... What night does he always die on?"

Frisk couldn't keep eye contact. "Tonight."

Papyrus opened his teeth, then closed them. "O-Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Silence dwelled in the air for a moment. There wasn't exactly too much to say.

"Do you know who does it?" Papyrus asked.

"Yes."

Then there was hope, Papyrus perking up. "So we know who does it? What if we tried to talk them down and-"

"Pacifism doesn't work."

Frisk let their legs fall down from their chest, throat dry as ever. Papyrus wondered if the young child had even acquired a breakfast before he asked his next question.

"Then why don't we just drive to this persons house and stop them before they hurt my brother?" Papyrus asked.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know who they are."

"But you just said-"

"I said I know who kills Sans," Frisk said, snapping their head back to Papyrus. "I know what he looks like, how he kills Sans. I don't know who he is... I don't think he's even human or monster."

"Then what is he?" Papyrus asked.

"I'm not sure, I just know how everything happens," Frisk said, "The creature kills people that can't let go of their past, he leaves a note for them. And if they can't let go of that past, he kills them. He's quick and he's strong, I'm not fast enough to beat him. Undyne and Asgore haven't been able to do much against him."

"So we can't fight him at all?" Papyrus asked.

"I've tried, we all have," Frisk said, "It doesn't work."

"And the note," Papyrus picked at his scarf absentmindedly, "He leaves that for Sans, then?"

"Tonight, Sans gets the note after he finishes work. It tells him he had to let go of the past, or he'll be hurt."

Frisk scowled, remembering the first time she had seen the note. It had taunted her, just as the memories of past resets did. She remembered Sans trying to stop the man, trying to fight back against his fate only to be brutally murdered. Frisk had only been trying to learn of his past before they had found the note, sending them downhill in a spiral of resets Sans would never remember. The crumpled paper of three poorly drawn skeletons felt as if it was burning Frisk's pocket, reminding them it was their fault this all was happening. If Frisk hadn't brought up the past, Sans wouldn't have gotten that note. He wouldn't have the memory ingrained in his mind, needing to be freed.

"Why do you only need my help?" Papyrus asked, "I want to save Sans, we should get as much help as we can."

"We can't get help from any of them because of how this monster works," Frisk said, shaking their head. "He'll try to kill them next, it's happened before. He kills people who can't let go of something. Toriel can't let go of the old children, she's been killed a few times. Undyne can't get over her missing eye, nor can Alphys get over her past experiments."

That was what the creature did, you had to release your past of have a piece of your present stolen from you. It always occurred that way. If Frisk could find out Sans' past, they could help him, and the endless loops of resets could finally be over.

"What's the plan?" Papyrus asked.

Frisk looked up, yellow eyes determined. "We kill it."

~~~~~~

Toriel wasn't the only one who found knives concerning. Papyrus himself was never too afraid of knives, but holding one in this manner felt wrong. Off. He had the power to end someone's life with this, with a deadly weapon. It was terrifying.

Apparently, Frisk had been preparing for weeks. They had been collecting weapons to use, and had spent time hiding them around the fighting place. Frisk was going to start the battle out in a more open place. They had asked Sans to be there after his shift at work.

The note changed locations depending on where Sans was. Once Frisk found it written on the wall, another time Sans had read it carved into a tree. No matter where they went, it followed Sans. Frisk had to make sure to stop the creature before it could kill Sans.

They tried everything before to stop this before it could happen. Trying to convince Sans to tell the truth before never did work, and trying to uncover it didn't work, either. Sans had to release on his own, but he never did. It always resulted in his dust on the floor.

Papyrus squeezed the knife, closing his eye sockets from unease. Frisk had told him about the reason she reloaded to that morning. What went wrong with the other timeline.

Dust everywhere, Papyrus trying to grab onto the human as she made her escape. However, the woman persisted, and he could only scream with the loss of his loved brother-

It hadn't gone well.

Frisk was nowhere to be seen, hidden away on the other side of the large room. Their plan was to stop the creature from killing his brother before it could even give him the note. Frisk had tried hiding the note, but despite Sans never seeing it, he still died without even knowing he had to release his past.

Papyrus looked up. Apparently, something from his brothers past was causing this. Something that brought him pain, something he had to let go. Papyrus wished he could help his dear brother, but he couldn't force Sans to tell him about it. As long as Sans was happy. Papyrus was fine.

To think his brother could die... it was worrying. Would this be the final reset, the final save? Would they be able to save Sans? Just how many times has he tried to save Sans, and how many more will it take?

He didn't care. He'd help save Sans, no matter what.

Movement caught his attention, Frisk's instructions filling his mind. The Creature had a helper, the helper that dropped off the note. Before, Frisk never managed to catch them before Sans died. Sans was on his way now, and if Papyrus could catch her before she left, they could get answers. Get help. Figure out how to save Sans.

It was a woman, the woman Frisk had described. She had tangled blonde hair, a tired face pulled down with age and stress. She limped slightly, her one bandaged hand slightly off to the side. The woman had managed to get away previous times because they had been too busy dealing with the creature. Not this time, they would get a headstart. A woman with one hand and a limp wouldn't be able to get too far if they had time on their side.

There was a distant ticking around as she approached, a remorseful expression upon her face. She didn't want to do this, Papyrus could tell. Neither could he, even if Sans' life was on the line. He could never drive a knife into any person.

Out of his hiding spot, Papyrus moved towards her. He could see the note in her one remaining hand, crumpled up. She couldn't give that to Sans, he wouldn't let her.

The woman caught sight of him. Trying to flee, she dropped the note, but years of training and time knowledge gave Papyrus the advantage. He caught up to her in no time, ticking continuing. Defeated, she paused, averting gaze. The lights flickered above.

"Let go of me," She said, voice sorrowed in fear. "Or else he'll take me too."

"How do we stop him?" Papyrus asked, gripping onto her harder. "Please, I want to save my brother."

"... Brother?" She asked.

"Heya Paps, what are you doing in... what's going on?" Sans peaked into the room, eye sockets narrowing with confusion.

The lights flickered again.

"Sans, get out of here!" Frisk popped up from behind their hiding place, "-Before-"

The lights went dark.

Papyrus could only feel the woman escape from his grasp before the ticking intensified, and there was a gurgle. No scream, just a simple gurgle of blood. In the darkness he squinted, calling out for his brother as he reached out.

Dust falling to the floor. The black continued.

~~~~~~

Reset.

Again. And again.

Just how far was Frisk willing to go to save Sans?

The child sat up again, a scowl present as the burn of a reset wore it's high. They refused to let Sans die, not here, not now.

This reset, Frisk went for Papyrus again, They talked, once more, the conversation dragging along much like it did the million other times. Frisk was starting to forget what happened yesterday.

And, much like the last reset, it didn't work out.

A skeleton falling to the floor, this time caked in blood under the bright lights, a gasp of pain escaping his mouth. He twitched on the floor, sobbing silently towards his younger brother before dust settled on the tile.

Papyrus screamed.

~~~~~~

Reset.

No Papyrus this time around. Just Frisk. They ran to Sans' house, grabbing onto his blue hoodie and demanded that he tell them his past. If he told them, he could release! He'd be safe! Happy!

Finally, this time, Sans snapped.

"I don't get what yer problem is, kiddo." He harshly drew away from the child. "But I'm not spilling. The information if going to die with me."

Frisk blinked away tears, looking like they were going to cry. "You have to release, Sans, before he hurts you?"

"What?" Sans asked.

"Release your past, get over whatever has been haunting you all of these years," Frisk said, "Promise me you will, Sans." Frisk tried to offer a forced smile to the adult, but it didn't even look like a smile.

"I can't do that."

Frisk almost slapped him. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not stuck on my past," Sans said, lightly brushing off the child. "I don't talk about it, yeah, but I'm not upset over it. I'm glad that all happened." He sucked in a breath, tilting his arms behind his head. "Kid, I don't regret anything. I dunno what you're talking about."

What?

A figure loomed behind Sans, a note clutched in Frisk's hand as ticking hummed across the room.

Dust.

~~~~~~

Reset.

Once again, Frisk got Papyrus' help. The skeleton had, like before, caught the woman's arm before she could escape. Injured, she wasn't able to get far, admitting defeat as her feet stopped.

"What does he have to release?" Papyrus asked, "Sans doesn't know what he has to release, this isn't fair!"

"Sans?" The woman asked, fringed blonde hair cascading past her confused eyes. "The notes aren't for Sans."

If he had been holding something, Papyrus would have dropped it. Her hand slipped out of his grasp, and he let out a strangled breath that matched Sans' last one.

"What?" He almost sobbed.

"The notes aren't for him, he's the piece the note takes when the holder doesn't release."

A single, shaking finger reached up to point towards Frisk.

"The notes are for them."

Another dust pile, this time the woman's body joining. Frisk barely got a look at her before her soul burned once more.

~~~~~~

Reset.

Frisk had the answer. Wasn't this what they sought for, after so many resets?

Frisk lowered their arm from the glowing yellow button. They didn't remember. They really didn't remember.

With a sigh, they fell back against the soft cushions of their bed, looking at the ceiling with heavy eyes and a blank, almost hollow soul. Maybe they lost their true self a long time ago.

It was Frisk's fault this all was happening.

Their curiosity, their determination, the very things that kept them alive and saved the monster population, was destroying Sans. He was the price Frisk was paying. Frisk wanted so desperately to know his past, spending countless save files digging through the Underground, searching every nook and cranny just for an inkling of his past knowledge.

Frisk was the one who couldn't let go of his past, not Sans. Sans had time to adjust, he had since moved on. It was Frisk who couldn't release their curiosity of the skeleton. The piece was Sans himself. Frisk couldn't let go of his past, so the creature tore it from them before they could ever get closure.

The worst thing the monster could do would be to take away Frisk's one source of information for his past. Frisk didn't care if they died, they had the power of time.

Sans didn't.

They reached over slowly, pulling out the piece of paper tucked away in the corner of their nightstand. Unfolding it revealed an old image, one drawn by a child, of three people with such simple words. 'Don't forget'.

Frisk so badly wanted answers. It burned their mind everyday, the questions creating a whirlwind of want and confusion. If they could ask Sans, and get those answers, they would be complete. Yet Sans never gave them the answers, so Frisk's curiosity only grew. And grew.

Until it consumed them entirely, and this was the result. A human, lost in a countless loop of resets and saves, and a man who was paying the price.

Sans promised to protect Frisk. Why didn't Frisk every bother to even try to protect him?

Rip.

The paper was old, easily tearable, so Frisk pulled. And pulled. Once it parted down the middle, the human folded and repeated, until it was a tiny collection of nothing but waste. Frisk tossed it up, and the small particles fluttered down almost like confetti, as if mocking the human child.

The ticking was back.

A clock, a pocket watch more specifically, fell to the bed next to the human child. They didn't bother to look at it, knowing full well it ticked backwards, instead crossing their arms over their head. They also didn't bother to look into the room. Frisk knew there was someone else in there with them.

"Frisk, dear, time to wake up! You have school today! It's Taco Tuesday!" Toriel called out from the kitchen, her soft voice resonating around the house.

Frisk lifted their arms from their face, glancing around the room. The monster was gone. There was no note.

But the pocket watch remained.