He thought he had truly won the argument as Frisk seemed defeated by his response, and he had actually allowed himself to deflate a bit at that. But he was so wrong. He never should have doubted her and her determination. Honestly, that had been a mistake he made since the genocide timelines. He was a fool to think that he could prance around the topic like the delicate bomb it was forever. If not Frisk, then Paps would eventually begin to pry, but by blessing or curse, it was Frisk.

He instantly tensed as she stormed in front of the television, listening intently to her words, but at the same time wishing he were deaf. He didn't want to think about the past, about all the pain Frisk had caused, or all the times he'd failed in keeping everyone safe, or every single time he'd failed to keep Papyrus safe.

And when her determination flickered, his left eye blazed to life in response. Curlean billowed from the eye socket, and his hand reflexively snapped up towards her, his gravity magic surrounding her.

It took him a few long moments to compose himself and slowly release his magic from around her. His face contorted into pain as he looked away from her, eye still glowing and hands knitting themselves together so he wouldn't do anything else brash. It had been a very long time since he'd used magic on Frisk. And even longer since he could honestly say he was restricting himself from doing her any harm. But his body, his magic could remember the sick sense of victory he'd gotten from ending her life those first few hundred times. But now the thought of hurting her made him sick.

Why, stars, why was she trying to dig up these old feelings of hate?

Finding his voice, he swallowed thickly and spoke, his voice dark and flat, like it had been back in the judgement hall,"Why...... Why can't we just keep pretending it never happened? I never asked to remember it, I never wanted to remember A N Y T H I N G..... I-I don't want to hate you Frisk. This timeline, heh, it's really a dream come true, even if we all are still stuck down here."

He paused, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. He could feel his magic trying to overwhelm him, the one thing rooted so deeply into his emotions that it threatened not only Frisk's safety, but Papyrus' and his own as well.

He remembered how he'd been drunk off of his own power in one run, and he'd taken his time killing her. He first immobilized her, then bit by bit picked away at her life in the most painful ways imaginable. He was sure she remembered that well, but she never saw those last moments before the reset, when his magic overcame him and painfully scraped away at his bones, taking layer by layer until nothing but dust was left, all because he'd lost control.

He wouldn't let that happen again, not here, not for there to be just another reset.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? I.... I can  remember how at peace it felt to avenge Pa--", he chocked,"-- to pay you back, but... Y O U  K N O W  I  T O O K  I T  T O O  F A R."

She knew, because the reset after those few timelines, she'd flinched when he would suddenly appear. She clung to Paps whenever he would try to leave. She had been afraid of him. Because no matter how many resets they went through, the pain of that judgement had never faded. It was like the taunting voice of that damn flower. Always there, never fading.

Rising to his feet, he walked over to her, grabbing her wrists and looking her dead in the eyes,"W H A T  I  D I D  T O  Y O U  W A S  C R O S S I N G  T H E  L I N E."

How could she remembered everything and still be so calm around him, so unafraid? What if he snapped and couldn't control himself. Frisk was out of practice, and Sans had very little control over his magic when he was riled up.

He didn't release her wrists as he slowly calmed down, but his grip loosened to something less painful, as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against her shoulder. "I don't want to remember either of us like that ."