(Not edited, sorry if it stinks rip)

The first time you wake up to a reset is weird. It's deja vu, really. A disorienting experience that leaves a foul taste in your mouth. You don't understand, not at first. Not unless told about it previously.

You roam. You're confused and a bit scared. And then it hits you, after you see certain events play out once more according to your previous experience. Ah. You've went back in time. So clearly - clearly this is centered around you. You're the only one who can remember. You're the main character.

Then the resets happen. Again. And again. And you realize that no, you aren't the main character. Just because you can remember them doesn't mean you have much influence. You don't hold the reset button.

So, basically, you don't matter.

Ben has been alive for several years. Not as long as Sally, heavens knew that girl was at least twice his age if they were still counting (they were). He's only had the pleasure of experiencing three people who could reset.

There was a... system, in place for those who could remember resets. They kept in touch somewhat. Ben had his hands in a lot of circles. He was a boy of the internet, after all. No where was safe from his reach if he had the time. Sometimes firewalls were annoying, and Slenderman was - well, he was Slenderman, but most of the time Ben could find whoever he wanted. So it wasn't too difficult to hunt down others that could recall time loops. Especially since most CreepyPasta knew about them, and a good chunk of those CreepyPasta remembered. Like minded individuals.

The first person was a frail old thing. A human with curly hair and a scar from the war. They actually had been quite pleasant when Ben met with them to get answers. They only reset because someone robbed them of their prized jewelry box a few months, and they wanted to figure out who. They were one of the few people Ben left alive after stalking. They answered his questions well enough, patient but clearly disinterested. The person did mention a monster friend from the days of the war who had been working up towards being able to reset. But that friend, they claimed, had been lost in the battle. So Ben didn't think of another taking that persons place after they died from old age. The one thing a reset couldn't save you from. They accepted it with grace, not a single reset scouring the land.

Then resets picked up again a few years back. And Ben couldn't find out who for the life of him. No one could. Either the person was good at hiding, from an obscure location, or they were Underground. The one place no one could reach. So everyone mutually agreed to simply deal with the resets, no matter how persistent they were. Waited for them to pass before moving on with their lives. Some took advantage of the rewound time and killed the same victims over and over again, to quench their sadistic needs.

Then resets happened again. Not spread out. Not like the other two. The same two days, repeated over and over again. Monsters would escape. A reset. Monsters would escape again. And then a reset. Monsters wouldn't escape and yet, a reset. At that point, everyone realized it was a human Underground doing it. So there was nothing they could do to stop the brat but wait.

Then, one time, monsters escaped and time continued.

Then there was the new human in charge of resets. Frisk Dreemurr. A child of gleaming yellow eyes and a glint to their face of knowledge. The controller of time. Owning the most determination in the world. And resets stopped after they escaped, so no one approached them. CreepyPasta were keen to keep knowledge of their existence... withheld. If a kid like that found out about them, well - simply put, it didn't sound good. So everyone moved on with their lives again.

Ben didn't think much of Sans when he first met him. He wasn't the first ever to allow CreepyPasta into his home without the cops on dial. He was a sad, pathetic man wrapped in a blanket under the Slender sickness. A poor victim that some others took pity on.

Then he wasn't all that. Then his personality started showing. He was a man who could be witty in the worst situations, who liked to laugh and joke for his own sanity. Someone who's long since given up despite not seemingly having any reason to. Someone with hidden lie after lie, scattered throughout his past. Who seemed much too old to be in his twenties, as if he's lived everything twice over. And someone who stood in the middle, a morally grey person who sometimes found murder very necessary. Who cared for those close to him, and leaving the extent of his efforts for those people alone.

Someone who knew what it was like to depend on those who simply didn't need you back.

Ben should have known, deep down, he wasn't fully monster. And he did, to an extent. Sans looked like a normal monster. Acted like a normal monster. Yet his soul always felt a bit different. Maybe Ben was just in tune with souls more since he was dead, but he noticed. He always noticed how Sans' soul always felt off. Like a stale chip in a bowl at a party, one that doesn't quite belong with the others.

He never knew how different and alike Sans was to them until that moment.

Sans could remember resets. And he remembered them alone. He had no idea about the overarching community behind resets, who supported one another when time became an illusion. Nor did he even realize what it meant to recall them. Simply put, normal mortals couldn't remember. Some could figure out they existed, sure, but that was the extent they could go in that regard. No, those outside of the mortals - the freaks - could remember. Removed from the system of the world itself. People who were dead, who were angels or demons or neither or both. People who weren't anything, who were something new.

And Sans, well, he was half something.

He wasn't half dead, that was for sure. Sans was born this way, and you couldn't exactly be born 'half dead'. When you died you stopped growing. By all accounts, if Sans was somehow born that way, he would be stuck as an infant.

Possibly an angel. Or a demon. Or something external, like Slenderman, who was a different species entirely. They wouldn't really know unless they had confirmation. Whatever species he was, it wasn't effecting him fully. His soul looked to be a full monsters soul. Which meant that it was mostly locked away inside of him.

Somehow. Hell if Ben knew.

He watched from the computer screen as Smile Dog explained to Eyeless Jack what had happened, tone low and appropriate for their situation. Eyeless Jack, despite his face being flushed and having just thrown up in the toilet from his little sickness, looked relatively shocked by the news. As he should be.

This was a shitty situation. Really shitty. Sans couldn't catch a break, could he? The moment he was born, his life was fucked. At the very least Ben have twelve years of pretend normality before he died.

Maybe that's why Sans was always bound to find them. Sans was fucked from the start. He was destined to find CreepyPasta, because shit like this was normal for him.

"Do we know what he is yet?" Eyeless Jack asked. "Because if he's an angel or a demon there's things that he might think are normal that can kill him and -"

"No," Smile Dog said, "But that shouldn't matter right now. Whatever he was born with seems to be restrained in his soul, since it's a plain white monster soul. Other than minor leaks of it I doubt we'll find out what he is for awhile."

Eyeless Jack nodded solemnly. A fair reaction. None of them were doing any better with the news themselves. This was a lot to take in. They knew Sans had went through some shit, but many had not been anticipating resets to be up there.

No wonder he was an emotional mess over this. Resets were scary things, especially when dealt with alone. And now they had to watch out for any other biological changes that might screw with the skeleton or his kids as well.

"This is bad," Eyeless Jack mutters.

"It just is," Smile Dog corrects, eyes narrowed and stern. "We can't change who can and cannot remember resets, we can only deal with them. Sans is still the same man he was yesterday. We just know some new stuff about him."

"I didn't mean it like that, you know that."

"I know. But that kind of language can be hurtful if he heard and misinterpreted, alright? So careful words from here on out."

"The problem is," Ben says, sticking his head out of the screen with a frown, "That the current holder of resets knows Sans can remember. And wants to fuck with him."

Eyeless Jack looked like he swallowed an egg. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit."

An ostrich egg, to be specific.

__________

Zero has never really thought much about resets, frankly. They just were. She's always remembered them, even when the human she was stuck with couldn't. And they didn't really bother her. She wasn't really a person who cared about schedules or consistency. Sometimes it was annoying when she was doing something, but other than that she didn't give a shit.

"I don't understand what the big deal is, you damn engine!" Clockwork kicked the piece of metal on the floor of the garage, her low ponytail swinging as she huffed and puffed with brimming anger.

She worked through her emotions like she did anything - working on her cars. Zero giggled as she watched her girlfriend have a fit, leaning back as she drank fruit punch with Toby and Sally. It was weird to see the two getting along now, considering what they had started out with. Sally was still sometimes iffy with Toby, but combing their living together with a new, shared out look and therapy, and the kid was handling it pretty well. Even if she seemed ready to pop at the seams over not being able to run to Sans at that moment. Laughing Jack and Jane sort of claimed him. Toby was still getting into the whole rhythm of being in a relationship with Sans, so he didn't take priority over the other two.

"I mean, I - feck - I hope he's okay. It's difficult to share something like that," Toby said.

Sally stared blankly at the floor, her face contorted into something unreadable. "He said he died before."

Sally is someone who likes to own. Sort of like Jane, if Zero had to compare. She had her stuffed bear. She had her Sans. That's all Sally seemed to need. Other than fruit punch. So hearing something like this, something the kid could relate to, must've been a critical hit on her mind.

"Yeah." Toby's voice came out strained.

"Honestly, it's not that big of a deal he remembers resets," Zero grunted, moving to grab her trustworthy hammer. The weight felt just right in her hands as she stood, her thumb running along the hilt.

"Not a big deal?" Sally hissed out, her green eyes sharpening to a murderous gleam.

"What I mean is -" Zero swung the hammer in a bored, almost lazy low trail. It dragged through the air, as if in slow motion. "Consider it. Resets aren't the worst thing in the world, and there's always people to step in if they go haywire. The Underground barrier doesn't exist anymore so now we can stop whoever does them."

"They hurt Sans, though," Sally hissed. Her fists dug into her pink skirt, eyes glaring towards Zero. "They hurt him."

"And honestly?" Clockwork pipes up. "That Frisk kid scares me a bit. They look creepy."

"A normal child scares you?" Toby asks his friend, looking judgingly towards the shrugging woman. "That's... that's weird, Clockwork. A weird choice."

Clockwork only hums. "What can I say? I'm afraid of the unknown. And that kid is hella unknown with their plans. Didn't Sans say they showed up on his doorstep? Who knows what the brat is planning."

Sally's grip tightened.

"And we can stop them," Zero snorts out, turning on her heel towards Sally. "Think about it. We're serial killers who can remember their little trick. And if they try, we can just..." To emphasize her point, she drags her finger against her throat. Her eyes are wide and glistening as she does so, flickering back and forth between Sally and Toby. "Isn't that what we do? We get rid of people we don't like. And we don't like Frisk. I'm just saying."

Sally had a grin on her face as Zero goes back to practice swinging her hammer. Toby looks lost in thought.

No one speaks for awhile after that, and the soft roar of Clockwork's hardcore music fills the air as they all sit and stew.

__________

Gardening is supposed to be a calming activity. Something that can remind Helen of the greenhouse he left months ago, something that'd keep his hands busy and keep his mind focused. Something to combat depression.

Ironically enough, Helen had chosen a red spider lily to care for. His therapist was fine with that.

"Sometimes it's hard to pretend everything is great and fine," The woman pointed out, her ballpoint pen glistening under the soft lamp light flooding the room. "Sometimes it's hard to not remember the bad thoughts, and the past of pain. And that's okay. If you want to choose a flower representing bad thoughts, that's perfectly fine. Because you're in control of the flower. And maybe, by giving the thoughts such a tame form to present in, you might grow less afraid to deal with them. After all, it's just a harmless house plant now. Not a scary demon under your bed."

There was a lot more that went into that discussion, but Helen liked the color and it helped to care for it. So he did so. Watered it gently, kept it in sunlight, made sure it wouldn't be knocked over.

Jeff stood at the counter, angrily washing dishes with a scowl. His long hair was tugged into a low lazy bun, strands sticking out like oddly placed sticks.

"So..." He starts up quietly. "Resets? Are they just... are they extremely dangerous?"

Jeff grunts. He never does turn around as he speaks. "Depends on who controls them. We're talking about people who have the ability to go back in time at their own call, where most of the entire world can't remember the rewind. So yeah, a bit dangerous to us if they have bad intentions."

"Huh."

Helen drags a finger across one of the leaves of his tiny flower. He's thankful for Sans, for giving him this chance to get real help. To properly grieve and fight his depression, the massive opponent he's faced his entire life. And it's nice to be on proper medication for it. A risk for weight gain, and he's already put on some pounds, but Helen is and lives with serial killers. He was never far away from exercise if he needed it. So he'll take on some more weight if it meant being fucking happy, finally. And he'd also take on the complex situation that was today to try and figure out Sans, as well.

He owes that skeleton a lot. And he wants to figure out the man that seemed to charm his way into killers hearts, who seemed to understand a bit too much.

So he sat in silence. With Jeff, working away at a dish with a scowl on his face. And neither shared their words with one another.

__________

Sans had a long talk with Jane and Jack.

Of course they did. It was a conversation they couldn't really ignore. Especially since both of them seemed to be in hissy moods after he revealed the information. But it wasn't an easy conversation. It took a lot of courage to speak up for Sans. It always has. Resets were something he was so used to bottling down and hoping to just end. Something he couldn't control or deal with.

Yet there he was, bundled into bed with Jane and Jack. Jane pressed against his back, and Jack pressed against his chest. Almost smothering the poor skeleton as they all lay. It helped, to just be... laying. With them. It helped a bit.

"Thanks, for being here, even if I can't... say everything," Sans said.

Because he couldn't. The most he could choke out was a few details before it felt like he was drowning, his throat closing up at the memories. It was difficult to relive them, to tell them. To explain how a knife felt dragging across bone.

"You don't have to," Jane hummed out, her arms tightening around Sans. "Just know we're here."

Laughing Jack hummed in agreeance. Sans was... he didn't trust the mans silence. He knew the clown was thinking - no, plotting something. But he couldn't find it within himself to care too much, admittedly.

Because fuck Frisk. Fuck Flowey. They knew how much it had hurt him, and they did it anyways. They tormented him for the hell of it. Repeated time on a loop for their own boredom. So fuck them.

"Babe," Sans murmured, reaching up to pat his boyfriends cheek. Laughing Jack looked down, his faraway eyes honing in on Sans as Bean babbled in his one free arm. "Don't attack the kid. I don't want them resetting."

Laughing Jack frowned for a moment. "Okay," He whispered out, leaning down to press a kiss against Sans' forehead.

"The moment we can, though," Jane said, her voice low against his skull. "We're getting rid of the kid. Because you aren't alone anymore."

Sans barely focused on the first part, more excited over the final realization that he was never alone. Never again.

"Yeah," Sans giggled out, smiling against Laughing Jack's feathers on his shirt. "Yeah."

__________

There was a loud, shrill cry that startled Sans into the world after he fell asleep. A baby's cry. A cry that made his eye sockets fly open, and caused the skeleton to hurl himself into a sitting position. Because Bean didn't cry. She never did before.

Then he saw her. In her crib, to his left, opposite from where the crying had come from. She sat, boredly watching her parents as she gnawed on her crib door. Not crying.

Then he looked right. And froze.

There, in Jane's arms - Jane, who was smiling like a smitten fool - was a baby. With a messy mop of white hair, wide black eyes, and little fat, stubby fingers. Laughing Jack lingered behind Sans, a hand on his arm as he watched the new child with excited, gleaming eyes.

"Sans," Jane choked out, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. "He's so tiny and fat, I fucking love him."