‘Grillbys makes the best burgers’.

That was true in the Underground.
And still true on the Surface. Access to the human market elevated Grillbys’ burger making art to new heights.

Or so Sans would like to believe. Some of the other patrons were not as appreciative.

He bought two packs: one for himself and another for Frisk.

Then, he left a voice message on Toriel’s phone. Said that he’s free to coach Frisk on some good ol’ science and math. Dinner provided.

It was a sentiment much appreciated. Most children struggled with those and the special kid was of no exception.

Then it’s off to pick them up from school.

Frisk saw him alright. The kid froze right at the entrance as if they’re a Snowdin snowman.

Hah. So they knew they’re in trouble. They must have met like this before. Many, many times.

Sans effortlessly weaved between the mass excited schoolchildren. Chaotic traffic of kids and parents? No problem. Icy floors? No problem too.

“Heh, kid. Thought you’ve gotten used to us skellies by now.” He lifted the bag. “Grillbys. Can’t have class on an empty stomach, y’know.”

More silent squinting from Frisk. Ah, that distrust.

“We can always have tuition at your place if ya want.”

The kid leaned forward and whispered into his ear. Or where his ear should be.

They said: “I am the legendary fartmaster.”

Sans frowned. That’s his ultra super-secret phrase, reserved only to those with ‘special powers’. Heard that too many damn times now.

His eye sockets went dark for a moment. “Is this a game to you?”

Frisk shook their head.

Okay.
Relax.
Calm down.

If they’re using the secret code, it means they know what they’re doing.
Right?

The light in his eyes returned.

“Well then, follow me.” Said Sans. “I know a shortcut.”

And how Ebott Town was riddled with ‘shortcuts’: all thanks to the multiple time shenanigans. It’s still a wonder how the world hasn’t collapsed on itself yet.

One turn around the school later and they were at the skeleton brothers’ new surface house. Above ground, but with the exact same architecture.

Sans preferred it that way. Easier for him to export the underground secret lab to the land under the sky.

He then unlocked the back door with a silver key. Down the stairs they go.

Despite its limited space, he managed to cram in a sofa. The zone nearest to the stairs was labelled as a ‘living room’ of sorts. It’s the only place where non-lab activities can take place.

That included: sleep, eating, reading, tuition, and…

…Serious discussions.

The two sat down on the couch to eat their burger meal. Silence hung overhead as both parties tried to enjoy their food first. Whatever they needed to discuss was a surefire appetite killer.

Frisk did the cleaning up. They’re at least responsible enough to do that by now. With dinner out of the way, it’s time for the real deal.

With a finger, Sans cast his Blue magic on one of the drawers. Yanked that out of its place. He then pulled it over to his lap.

That one drawer, a time capsule, was filled with many memories of other timelines. They belonged to a certain time-travelling human. Fifty copies of the same group photo nestled between assorted postcards and letters. Every one of them had the same phrase written at the beginning.

‘I am the legendary fartmaster’.

Except for the original: the control sample.

Sans had a pretty good idea how they did it. Gave him one copy in every new timeline and have that stored in a safe bubble outside of time. One became two. Two became three. Three became fifty.

A message of sorts, he figured.

Pointing straight down on the pile, Sans said: “It’s high time you explain.”

Crankiness exuded from every pore of his boney self. Despite his standard grin, he’s beyond sick and tired. This time Sans will burn that sentiment into Frisk’s very being.

Frisk’s lips turned into a guilty frown. They lifted the box over to their lap and began sorting through the contents.

Some of these letters appeared older than the others, despite not much true ‘time’ had passed between each writing.

They unfolded one. Skimmed through the contents for context before passing it to Sans.

“Yeah kid, I’ve read that.” Sans replied. “That’s a letter of apology for killing Papyrus. Sorry. Can’t say that I’ve completely forgiven you for that yet. I still have his scarf in the other drawer.”

Then the next letter.

“That’s an apology for killing me. Dark times, eh? It takes a lot of LOVE and EXP to force my hand.”

And another letter.

“…I rather not read that one if I can help it. That’s the problem of too many resets, kid. You start to lose yourself. In more ways than one.”

Frisk scrunched their brows at Sans. Worried.

“I could be a different skeleton before I met you.” Sans responded with his distinctive winking shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

It was heartbreaking to know that Chara turned out to be a maniac. They had a chance of a new life with a loving family. Threw that all away. Ripped it apart in life and in death, all because they had a grudge against humanity.

Sans gestured a pinch with his skeletal fingers. “We were this close to the point of no return. I wasn’t kidding when I said ‘everything ended’. One more step and we wouldn’t be talking here.”

“Chara would have won the devil’s deal.”

The other party showed a reluctant nod.

“I guess after that disaster, you decided to travel the world. Didn’t matter where. As long you’re far away. Figured that would be the logical decision.”

They stacked the postcards and fanned them out. It featured various landmarks all over the world, stretching from east to west.

Frisk hoped to find a place in the world where they ‘should’ belong. The human world stretched to all four corners of the globe. There should be a place for them, right?

No.

The more Frisk stared at the pictures, the more downcast they became. They dropped the postcards and buried their face into their hands.

Sobbing became the only sound in the air.

Sans couldn't maintain his usual grin any more. He just watched the living embodiment of ‘Determination’ break down in despair. That was beyond disconcerting.

If the pain got into Frisk, what chances does he have?

He hovered his hand over Frisk’s back, hesitating. Getting personal with anyone not-Papyrus was not his style.

But in the end, he gave the kid a gentle pat.

“The Surface isn’t kind to you, huh?” he said, “That’s some… heavy research material you got there. In Alphys’ Lab, I mean.”

Frisk sobbed louder in response. They didn’t care how or when Sans read their true troubles. Not anymore.

The predicament left the short skeleton in a pickle.

Great.

What should I do?
What can I do?

If nothing is done, we’ll RESET forever.
In each round, there’s a chance that Chara will possess Frisk again.

It’s already a miracle that the kid lasted this long.
I would have snapped a long, long time ago.

Maybe this is fate.
All things must come to an end.
Karma. Second Law of Thermodynamics.

Whatever.

…Damn. Giving up before we even started.
No wonder the kid can’t trust me.

C’mon, there’s more than yourself at stake now.
Think about your brother. He’s loving the Surface and all their pasta glory.

“Hey, kid.” Sans spoke up at last. “You’re not alone, y’know. You got Toriel. Asgore. Papyrus. Undyne. Alphys. Every monster in Ebott. We’re all willing to help.”

“Even lazy ol’ me.”

Just offering himself on the plate sent jitters throughout his body. It was more than just a stage-fright.

If he offered help, he’d have expectations. Expectations go hand in hand with hope.

That sparked a host of anxieties.

Sans buckled down his insecurities behind his trademark clown-face.

“Mind giving me some motivation?” he asked.

Frisk peeked out from the corner of their eye.

“You know I hate making promises, kid. But when I do, I follow it through.”

He then offered his pinky finger: the sign of an oath.

“Will you do the same? If we overcome this, promise me that you’ll never RESET again. Keep that power under lock and key. Forever.”

The kid didn’t budge an inch. Looks like they needed a bit more convincing.

“I mean,” Sans continued, “It’s proof that we can face anything life throws at us. There’s no need to hide in a time-loop. Escapism is bad, y’know.”

He knew he was a total hypocrite, but he must try. For once.

Frisk stopped sobbing and wiped their tears away. Still, they did not jump on the offer.

A wise move? Perhaps. Anything and everything can happen on the Surface. For every bit that could go right, it can also go wrong.

“Uh.” Sans said. “Nevermind kid, maybe this is a bad ide--”

Before he could finish his sentence, the human’s soft pinkie finger wrapped around his bony limb.

Sans was surprised. At the same time, he was not. This is Frisk after all. They had the knack of catching him off-guard.

He realised that there’s no turning back now. He couldn’t ‘reset’ the deal and pretend it never happened.

There are words to keep: even if both sides were not too sure if they can.

“Welp. The deed’s done.” Said Sans, “I guess it’s time to have a meeting then. It’s weekend tomorrow. Lunch at your place sounds good?”