Sans doesn't actually know what he is.

Well, he certainly has an idea. He's always known that he's a monster. He was biologically the son of W.D Gaster, even if the scientist was a prick that made him out of his DNA. Sans was a skeleton monster.

But he wasn't fully a skeleton monster. He knew that. Or he had an idea of it. Sans was a skeleton, wasn't he? With a pure, white soul that hovered in his ribcage.

Yet he always... knew, deep down, that something was a bit off.

Sans didn't quite look like Gaster. His skull was round and weird, and he had eye lights. No skeleton monster of a pure breed should have eye lights. And it didn't explain why memories of murmured "other DNA" always came up from the scientist in the lab during Sans' experiments.

Sans didn't know what other DNA was used to make him. And frankly, he never really thought about it too much or particularly cared too much. His first priority was always trying to survive that hellish environment, and after that, it was just trying to survive everything else life threw at him. Sans never really had the time to settle down and question what the hell was used to make him, and what the implications of that could mean.

Sans was skeleton enough. Other than light biological changes that hinted at a second parent, he never bothered to explore further than that.

And Sans never did question why he could remember resets and other people couldn't, for he was too busy trying to survive that round of horror and crises on its own. So having them relate to one another was odd, and very much jarring.

As was the discovery that other people - several other people, mind you - could remember resets. And a lot of the people he lived with knew about them. It was horrifyingly comforting to know that he wasn't alone. Not anymore. And that he'd never be alone again, even if they were sent back in time.

Because he had at least five other people that'd remember him, remember what happened. Who was on his side.

Even if Frisk whisked them all back Underground with a reset, he had people who would be waiting for him. Ready to take him back into their lives again.

The thought of that was so warm and bright that Snowdin would never be cold and desolate to him. Never again.

"Probably," Sans murmurs, "He probably had something to do with it. But I don't care."

Because Sans is still just a monster skeleton. That's all that matters. He doesn't care about the study of the void, the determination debate, resets, or anything. He's never wanted a life of that kind of stuff. Sans likes the thrill the CreepyPasta have, but he also likes how... normal they can become. Normality with a twist, per se. Sans liked that. He didn't need whatever this was to bother him. He had more pressing matters to deal with.

Laughing Jack chews on the bottom of his lip, looking somewhere in between annoyed and absolutely blood-lusting. He's gotten better at controlling his anger around people who've wronged Sans. His nails dug into his black shorts.

"Wait, wait, so - Sans can remember them, and he's not a full mortal or whatever?" Jeff asks, leaning forward as his blue eyes widened.

"I hardly think his biology matters," Smile Dog murmurs, head tilting to the side as he watched Sans. His tail flicked behind him, steadily beating against the couch. "Sans could have a large amount of unknown DNA in him due to the experiments, and it's not like any of it shows outside of his memory of resets. We can figure that all out later, right? I believe him recalling resets is a far more pressing matter, especially since you seem scared about it."

Sans nodded grimly. This... this was it. This was the moment to spill his final secret. The one he's held ever so closely for his life.

But... he could do it. Looking around, Sans realized he could do it. He trusted them. They knew, they understood, what he's gone through. What pain was. With Papyrus and the others, he always felt like he was performing. Looking back into a funhouse mirror whenever he looked at their faces, seeing his own face distorted and odd.

Looking at these people, though? It was looking into a perfect reflection.

It was time.

"I can remember resets, yeah," Sans said, leaning forward to rest his skull onto his hands, to keep them from rattling too much. It was time. "You guys already know the whole experiment stuff, or at least the bare minimum - oh, shit, yeah, Helen probably doesn't know."

Helen perked up at the mention of his name. Frankly, he's the new outsider of the group right now. Before it had been Toby. Now it was him. Not out of any intentional hatred, like Toby had before (he and Sally sometimes still butted heads), but more so out of... being a gear shoved into an already functioning gear system. No spot really needed him at that moment, so he just joined the pile. That was probably a good thing, in retrospect. Helen needed a wider support group and wasn't really in a position to let people be dependent on him. He and everyone else were still working through introductions or reintroductions.

At least Clockwork and Toby were starting to include him more, so he wasn't horribly an outcast.

The air felt stale and tasted of dust when Sans sucked in a breath.

"I mean, uh - this is going to be awkward for me, to admit everything, I've never -" He paused for a moment. "I mean, I've told people, but they never really remembered. So I stopped trying after a while. But, to catch up Helen, I was an experiment when I was a kid. Raised in a lab, whole nine yards. Tragic backstory shit. He was trying to create a weapon to break the barrier amongst other things. Obviously, it did not work."

Sans flexed his fingers as memories washed over him, like a tidal wave over a sandy, empty beach. Memories of needles, of experiments, of learning how to fake a smile. Of cold corridors and lackluster rooms.

"Long story short, I killed him and escaped, so - yeah, I'll just skip past that stuff," Sans said, "Most of you already know that stuff. But I escaped and got a house."

A house. A house in Snowdin. The memories of that were... blurry, to say the least. Disoriented. And whenever he tried to push and prod at them, somehow his mind would flicker back to that one damn day that changed his life. The day beside a playground, tucked into the forest, with a girl ripped in half and a tall, faceless man.

So no. Sans didn't press further.

"Anyways, I lived a normal life for a while. Got things worked out and everything. Got some jobs, went to school and college ahead of people my age," Sans said, waving off the memories with a stilted hand. "Then... then days - they started repeating. Randomly."

A flinch from Sally, and a wince from Ben. Laughing Jack's eyes sharpened.

"I didn't - fuck, I was so confused at first, ya know?" Sans asked. "I kind of knew about resets from the lab shit but I didn't know. If that makes sense. So days - sometimes mere minutes - would repeat over and over and I had no idea how to stop them. No idea what was going on."

The first time was so confusing. So shocking. Sans hated waking up at that damn sentry station, wondering why the hell the dog couple was walking past again when they had just done so less than an hour ago. Only to realize they waved the same way as last time, and asked the exact same question about the time.

Then it happened again. And again.

"Then, there was this change - this random fucking flower monster, who just seemed to know what was going on," Sans grumbled. "Do you know how weird that was? I was... I've always been alone Underground, I guess. No one understood me. I was an experiment, and the closest thing I had to someone being in the same boat was Paps, and obviously, that was a shit show."

"So, then, I tried to talk to him. Thought he was kind of weird at first, but he explained the resets. He said he was just testing the waters, he said he was just - just messing around!" Sans hissed, leaning forward.

"That's not what he actually did, was it?" Jane asked quietly.

Sans shook his head. "To him, it was always just playful shit. Flowey - he doesn't have emotions or a soul. He's nothing but an empty husk of life and determination. So when he got bored, he'd push further. Why give a shit about consequences when you can go back in time, right?" Sans' voice strained with those words, and he pushed through it with a hearty, forced chuckle. "I died, you know. A lot. I tried to fight back, and well, you can't fight an endless battle against someone who can keep trying."

"Oh, Sans," Toby whined out, his voice more of a whimper of some lost puppy than an adult's.

"It's fine, I uh - I got used to it," Sans said bitterly. "Had to. Fun fact about being the only one who could remember shit underground meant I was the only one who could stop him. I mean... I tried, at first. I guess. After dying a lot I kinda... stopped."

He made sure to avoid the others' expressions as he glanced toward the covered window. Finding out someone you knew died over and over again, and remembering it, wasn't something that resulted in good responses.

And he'd have to tell Eyeless Jack later since he was bundled up in his room again. Demon sickness again.

And, now that he thought about it, Eyeless Jack probably could remember them as well. Since he was a demon.

Laughing Jack was silent as he tugged Sans onto his lap, burying his head into Sans' shoulder as he held onto him for dear life. Sans let him.

"If it helps at all," Ben offered out, "You know, Sally and I would be a great help to talk about death too. Since we're both kinda undead."

"Thanks," Sans murmurs.

And for a moment, all is silent again.

"I mean, he - he was what started the fear, but for the most part, he kept - he let time continue," Sans said.

Another moment.

"There - fuck, Sans, there was a lot of resets over a few days, right before monsters escaped, I..." Smile Dog said. His eyes widened. "You... they said you freaked out when you heard of Frisk."

Laughing Jack's arms tightened around Sans.

It clicked. All at once. Like the final puzzle piece falling perfectly onto the board. The last secret slotting into place.

"You knew they could." It's a statement, one that tastes bitter in Sans' mouth.

"I knew," Laughing Jack confirms, voice low and dangerous. "Angels know who can reset. We can tell."

Laughing Jack never liked Frisk. He never mentioned why, but every mention of the kid seemed to send him into a scowl, or an annoyed frown.

"Oh, Sans, oh no," Smile Dog said.

Sans shrugged. "I... fuck, guys, it was my personal hell. The kid saved us hundreds of times and then killed us thousands. I - over and over and over again. Right after Flowey's resets puttered off, Frisk fell underground and theirs started. They... had two routes they liked to follow the most. I called 'em pacifist and genocide, for obvious reasons. They always seemed to follow those routes the most - of course, they always liked to divulge. Pacifist is where they managed to free us from the Underground, and genocide is..."

Flashes of a knife and red-tinted eyes flashed through Sans' mind. Flashes of smirks and empty promises, of dust, settling upon a snowy terrain. Of a town, quiet and somber, with a single sign left on the only open store, begging for mercy from the invader.

Of searing pain slashing across his chest, of losing blood and being left to die at the end of a golden hall.

Sans flinched at the memories.

"Basically, uh, I died. A lot. And so did a lot of other people," Sans said. "I won't - I can't get into that, right now. Not yet, it'll... take time. There's a lot of memories and disgusting things the kid did but -" He sucks in a breath, sharp and quick. "Frisk can reset. And they reset a lot, Underground. And... they found me. That's why we moved. That's why I've been... weird, lately. And why I've been freaking out. I'm worried they're going to... take all of this away. And that no one would remember this but me."

"Oh, Sans," Jane hissed, and she was up out of her seat in a moment to go and hug him.

Laughing Jack hissed at the slight loss of Sans' arms, but his hands kept a tight grip on Sans' waist.

"Even if we did go back in time," Smile Dog said, jumping from his spot on the couch to trot over, "I'd drag Jeff to your house regardless. Sans, CreepyPasta knows about resets. At least most of us do. We would find one another, fill them in, and return."

"I'd force myself to remember, somehow," Jeff said.

"And I'd find you too!" Sally says.

"Same," Ben hums, "Who else am I supposed to steal shit from? I need to be someone's lazy bum."

Sans doesn't say anything. He just cries. Big, fat, ugly sobs pressed into Jane's shoulder as she held him, Toby quickly joining in after his fingers randomly snapped. And, for a moment, everyone held him. And everything was okay.