Hello again, everyone.

I'm sure for this one you might have been expecting a proper date, but my inspiration led me down another path. Besides, the last few times they've hung out have been pretty date-like, right...? Anyways, just a reminder, this one is in Sans's perspective. It's still second-person as well (though I still don't know if it's okay or not. It isn't an "interactive" work though, so I can't imagine why formatting it this way, especially in a T-rated fic, would be an issue. Only time shall tell, I suppose).

I hope you enjoy this final installment, and thank you for sticking with me!

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Epilogue

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It's snowing outside the window. Heavy, fluffy white flakes twist down from the night sky. There's already about two feet of it out there.

Frisk is in the kitchen making hot chocolate, a rare substitution for the golden flower tea. There's some holiday movie on the tv, but you've turned down the volume.

So you and Frisk have been going out now for about a month. Tonight isn't a date night, though. The weather isn't predictable enough for that. Instead, you two have decided to just stay in and watch some heartwarming film and drink hot chocolate and stuff like that. Besides, Papyrus is here tonight too. He's outside right now, making snow-angels.

For some reason, though, you just aren't happy right now. Maybe it's because you know you should be happy, but you can't stop thinking about the past. And not the good parts of the past, either.

The best part about leaving the Underground behind is that you left the machine down there, too. In fact, everything that you and Gaster and Alphys made together is gone. And there's no one who can reset the timelines now.

That didn't stop the nightmares, though.

You haven't told Frisk. They're usually pretty good at comforting you. They used to have the nightmares too, after all. The half-forgotten memories of the events that didn't happen. Except that they had happened. Maybe not to this version of you. Maybe not in this version of events. But that only meant that they had happened to other versions of you. Most of whom are probably dead. Small mercies, you think.

The thing is, Frisk isn't always Frisk in the nightmares. Sometimes, they're not themself at all, but something darker. You don't remember its name, but you remember its face. You can't erase that.

You know it isn't them. It's not your Frisk. But you still see them killing your brother and your friends. Over and over again.

Back then, you'd had to be cautious. You tested them from the very beginning, watching for any signs of danger. But Frisk, the real Frisk, was a good kid. Sad, quiet, lonely, maybe a little bit bitter, but sweet and genuinely kind-hearted. So you began to grow more and more hopeful. You tested them with jokes. And threats. Once, when you confirmed their ability to rest the timeline, you tricked them. But at the same time, you rewarded them with letting them in on your secret. That you, too, had once had the chance to fix things when they went wrong.

Then you started having fun. Real fun. Fun that wasn't overshadowed by the cavern ceiling trapping you and everyone you loved underground. And damn it if that didn't feel good.

You will never forgive those other not-Frisks for killing your brother, but this Frisk . . . your Frisk. You love them. And you always will. They're real. They're yours.

As Frisk grew up, you found in them the best friend you had never had. Yes, there was Papyrus, of course, but sometimes, you just wanted to have someone around who really got you. And ever since they found out your deepest darkest secrets, you knew completely that you could trust them, that this was it. They told you that this was the true timeline, and nothing was going to reset anymore. That had been the first time you'd cried in front of them.

Then when they'd started acting weird around you, you knew something was different between you two. They shot hopeful, embarrased glances at you when they thought you weren't looking. And you started getting hyper-aware of everything they did, too. Every movement or change in their expression or flip of their hair fascinated you. Every time you two touched, even if it was a hug or your thighs touching when you were sitting on the couch together, made you nervous.

The difference in lifespans did give you pause, but then you started thinking about the alternative. About them growing old and dying, and you still hiding your feelings.

So could it work? A human and a monster?

It was working so far. In fact, it was, if anything, even more incredible than you ever could have imagined. Your feelings hadn't faded whatsoever. Although you weren't as nervous now, you still got butterflies every time they looked your way or smiled at you or spoke or . . .

Welp. There you go again.

Frisk comes back into the room, carefully balancing some graham crackers on top of the two steaming mugs. When they look up at you with a happy smile, they pause. One of the crackers slips and almost falls onto the floor.

"Sans? Sans, what's wrong?"

Huh? Oh. You're crying. Or at least, one tear is hanging from your chin. You swipe at it, momentarily annoyed at yourself for not noticing.

"aw, geez," you say. "look at that. guess i was just getting a little overemotional over . . ." You think fast before saying, "the snow."

Frisk gives you a funny look, then tells you to shove over, so you do.

"Fine, Mr. Funnybones. Keep your secrets. Find anything good on?"

You shrug, taking one of the mugs and a couple graham crackers from them. Your fingers brush together and your breath stops a moment (good thing you don't really need to breathe.) Frisk gives you a knowing look and sips their own hot chocolate.

Then Frisk sets their cup down on the sidetable and gives you a hug. You lean in instinctively, before you notice something odd.

"why are you so cold?" you ask.

They caught you off guard with the hug, so you don't even see it coming. Suddenly, you hear a crunch, and feel a handful of snow smush against the side of your face.

"Get dunked on!" Frisk sings. You're surprised, but you also feel weirdly proud of them for getting the drop on you like that. Soon, they will be a master prankster, and then you'll have to watch your back. There will doubtlessly be a whole new slew of tricks you two can pull on each other now that you're in a relationship.

A deep belly laugh (and yeah, whatever, you don't have a belly, get over it) bursts out of you. Then, without warning, you leap up. Frisk squeals and runs for the door. You pretend to trip to give them time to put on their boots, and then you're out the door after them, ready for the snowball fight of your life.

Papyrus and Frisk ambush you-they were clearly planning all of this-and when you shoot magic-powered snowballs at them, they dive to duck behind their snow fort. You note that half of it is clearly Papyrus's work, and has a number of weak spots. You aim for them, but no, it's too late. They're too prepared.

You hear the onslaught of snowballs whistling toward your head just in time, and step deftly out of the way. You shake your head at your attackers, lifting your palms up to give them a sense of how unfazed you are by their weak attempts.

"missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me," you say.

You hear Frisk's giddy laugh from the corner of the fort. They were no doubt turning red right about now.

"ah-ha," you mutter, and with a swish of your hand a snowball flies up and sails in a perfect arc through the night air. You hear it smack against something, which is shortly followed by a surprised "Ack!" which lets you know you hit your mark. You can practically taste the victory.

Then, typically, you hear your brother's laugh behind you.

"NYEH HEH HEH!"

You try to dodge, but Papyrus knows your tricks. You look up and see a clever trap-a layer of blue and white bones hold a pile of snow bigger than yourself. You only see it for a second. In the next, the bones have given way and you find yourself buried under the snow that they held.

You're impressed by Papyrus's trap, though you're sure Frisk had something to do with it too. They had acted as a decoy, after all. They took a snowball for your brother.

You bust out of the snow, hands glowing with magic. Time to get serious.

You prepare a wave of snow-spears and note Papyrus's feet disappearing into the snow fort. Your smirk isn't even intentional this time.

The spears pierce the roof of the fort and you can hear their shrieks of terror mixed in with surprised laughter. They flee the now-compromised structure as you expected they would, and make a break for the line of trees at the edge of the yard. Too slow, you think.

You teleport over there and shoot a spray of snow at the two shapes hiding in the darkness. They don't react, despite the fact that your aim was true, and you step closer to see that you hit a Papyrus-shaped snowman and a Frisk-shaped one.

You're momentarily stunned by how well-planned this was. They . . . they really thought of everything.

Then another snowball hits you in the back of the head. You whip around and see your brother bouncing another snowball up and down in his hand.

Before he even tries to throw it, though, Frisk launches themself at you, tackling you into a snowbank.

"aw, no fair," you laugh.

"There is no 'fair' in love and war, Sans," Frisk says. They're seated atop you now, looking satisfied with their snowball fight expertise. You look up at them and fold your arms behind your head, waiting for them to realize what positions they were in. When they inevitably do, their face goes pink.

"I-Ice-skating tomorrow?" Frisk asks breathlessly. You nod once, laugh, and ruffle their hair. They scowl at you, but you know they secretly love it. The kid wears their heart on their freaking sleeve.

They get off you and give you a hand up. You brush the ridiculous amount of snow that's clumped on your clothing off and take their hand.

"come on," you tell them, and gesture to Papyrus as well. "that hot chocolate's probably not so hot anymore. we gotta reheat it."

They agree and follow you indoors. The flood of warmth and feelings of home make you sigh deeply. The hot chocolate is only slightly-warm chocolate now, so you do reheat it, and take it out to them with a lot more snacks.

The rest of the night is spent watching movies together and eating a whole box of graham crackers. Frisk falls asleep on your shoulder. You're too tired to carry them up to bed, so you sleepily decide to just crash here with them. Soon after, Pap falls asleep too, and begins snoring softly, his head slumped against his chest.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to feel happy. It's not so bad. Not at all, in fact.

It's nice.

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