Frisk winced again, yet she still didn't move. She grit her teeth and waited for what would come next, expecting so much more than him simply backing away. When he moved back, she subconsciously rubbed her wrists. The pain was very dull and light, but she knew the marks were there. She tensed, but it was mostly out of concern for Sans than herself.

She silently watched him as he retreated to the couch. After a short pause, she followed him and sat down, though left respectable space between them. She sat up and rubbed at her face with a deep sigh. "I don't know, Sans." She ran her hand through her hair, biting back tears as she brushed her bangs away. "I know you don't want to hurt me on purpose, and I trust you. But whatever happens...Whatever you do, I'll understand."

She started at the floor, contemplating what she was going to say next. "I was a kid who should have known better, Sans! It wasn't just one timeline, or a couple. I wasn't just some scared girl who didn't know what to do. I killed on purpose. Over and over." She gripped at her jeans, curling her fingers tight against the fabric. "Sometimes...Sometimes it was someone else. But sometimes it was entirely me. I was bored and curious, and I was a selfish, horrible brat."

Tears were falling down her face, yet she didn't stop talking. "I wanted to fight you. At best, I wanted the challenge. At worst, I just wanted to see what would happen if I did this, or if I did that. The only way I could ever get you to face me was if I killed P--" She opened her mouth to say Papyrus' name, but couldn't bring herself to. She bent her head and wiped at her tears, her shoulders shaking with each sob. "I'm a horrible person, Sans." 

She sucked in a shaky breath and finally looked up at him. When she spoke next, she was yelling. 

"God, Sans...Why don't you hate me as much as I hate myself?!"