December 31st. It was the final day of the year; the day where people regroup and reflect on the last year's tidings. Sometimes, a party would be hosted and friends of all types would gather and "live it up" on the last day of the year. It seemed to be a surface tradition, and therefore wasn't often , if ever, celebrated in the underground.
"Is something troubling you, Deary?" The familiar voice plucked him from his musings, allowing him to realize how far down his cigarette had burned. Skeletal fingers tapped the nicotine against the provided ashtray, the ashes spilling in with the rest, before pressing it into the porcelain. The smoke evaporated and the pub was soon dispelled of the drab, choking scent. "You only space out like that when something's on your mind, you know. Would you care to lessen your burden?" She always spoke like that. She always asked him if he wanted to share his problems or take a load off. The gesture was appreciated, but rarely accepted.
"Nah," the skeleton assured. "I'm just thinkin' about what my bro might make for dinner tonight." Papyrus stood to full height, barstool legs squeaking as they were moved. "Thanks for the honey, Muffet." He turned around to near the exit. "Put it on my tab; I'll get to it later."
Sterling snow blanketed the ground like always, although somehow piled higher despite the lack of snowfall. The venture home was never a long one, but somehow, Papyrus always made it longer than it needed to be, cruising at a slow shuffle. An occasional monster passed him by, generally a child bouncing excitedly to return to their parents. They still had leftover adrenaline from the Christmas buzz a few days earlier. He couldn't contain the low chuckle that escaped his teeth as he heard a passing conversation among two siblings.
Unlocking the door with ease, he reentered his home, finding nothing out of place. Sounds of shuffling and clanging could be heard from the kitchen, which told him his brother was certainly home. Maybe he was making dinner already? However, normally, there wasn't that much metal clanging from the kitchen when he cooked. Perhaps he was making something different tonight?
Lazily wandering into the kitchen, he rested his weight on the doorframe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatshirt. With a good nature grin, he called, "Hey, bro."
"Papyrus!" the smaller shrieked. "I didn't think you would be home so early!" A glance around the room revealed stains and splatters of all kinds, likely from an array of vegetables. The younger was only slightly confused. At this point, he had essentially stopped questioning his older brother's motives and actions. But, it really didn't look like he was making his usual tacos. "I was hoping to have dinner finished before you returned, so I could surprise you!"
"Surprise me?" His shoulders shrugged with an accompanied chuckle. "What're you surprisin' me with, bro? A messy kitchen?"
"No!" Sans huffed. Despite not having any blood of any sort, tints of blue dusted his cheekbones – likely his internal magic reacting to his offense. "I was going to make spaghetti with the sauce Queen Toriel showed me how to make! The one that you like so much!"
Papyrus' theoretical brow-bones rose at the mention. Had Sans really gone through all the trouble of making him a meal that they had eaten months ago? He'd almost forgotten what it even tasted like by now. A gentle chuckle signified his warming smile as his sockets closed to reflect on this. He really did have the best brother out there, especially if he was willing to go through so much trouble.
"Thanks, Sans. I 'preciate it."
"It's no trouble at all, dear brother! It's just… not quite finished yet!"
"Don't worry, I can wait. Just tell me when you're ready to cervical, okay?" He dropped another chuckle, and waited for Sans' reaction. Perhaps that one was too vague – was it too far a stretch from 'serve it all', he wondered?
"Papyrus!" Never mind, there was the shout of agony. "It's the last day of this year! Please tell me your new year's resolution is to cease with those—those silly puns!" Right, New Year's resolutions. The skeleton brothers had only rather recently adopted that, as they had heard it was another surface tradition. Sans had taken quite the liking to it, and Papyrus could never deny his brother of something he was so insistent on.
"Ehh," he pretended to hesitate. "I'll think about it." He heard a grumble of annoyance from Sans as he turned back to tend to the pasta. Papyrus remained at the doorframe, sockets wandering curiously toward his brother as he worked. Another thought occurred to him. "… Hey, bro, what's your resolution gonna be this year?" As if he didn't already know.
"My resolution is to join the Royal Guard, of course!" he announced proudly, refraining from facing his brother due to his focus being stunted at the moment. "I will find a human next year, and I will impress Alphys enough so she'll let me into the Royal Guard!" It was as he assumed. Sans was so bent on getting into the Royal Guard – he talked about it so often, the entire town of Snowdin knew of his desire and determination. Papyrus once again laughed, feeling tinges of affection. His brother was just so cool in that he never gave up on his goal, regardless of anything. They had been staking out for humans for years, and they ever so rarely dropped by. Personally, he hadn't seen a single one since starting his sentry post, but that could be due to his constant slacking. But, Sans? He was always on alert, always adjusting his puzzles for when a human would come by. He was so intent on finding and capturing a human to bring to Alphys – how could Papyrus douse his dreams by being pessimistic?
"I know you can do it, bro. If anyone can do it, it's definitely you." Encouragement came so naturally to him when it involved his brother. He truly believed in him, with every marrow molecule he had within his bones. The problem lied with the mountain they lived under, and even the race that lived above them. He didn't particularly care for the humans one way or the other. He just didn't think they would purposefully throw themselves down a mountain to escape whatever problems they might be going through. Humans were too damn resilient. There was the occasional black sheep, however, that would descend unknowingly. But, one of those hadn't shown up in quite a long time. The more time that passed, the less hope Papyrus held for his brother's dream to come true like he wants.
"But of course! I will be the one who'll save monster-kind and bring the soul that'll allow us to return to the surface!" He was exuberant, as always. The sauce's smell permeated the room, allowing Papyrus to relax his bones ever so slightly. It had been a long time since he last smelled it. It had also been quite a long time since either brother had last seen Queen Toriel. She isn't as social as she used to be. Nowadays, she only really interacts with the Royal Scientist she appointed – Undyne. At least, that was what he assumed.
" How about yours, Papyrus?" The call of his name returned him to reality, and he stared blankly, but only for a moment. "What is your new year's resolution going to be? You've got to have one!" Sans wanted to know what his resolution is, even though he knows he's likely going to break it the minute midnight rolls by?
"I think I'll stick with one I can actually do. Like… comin' up with longer lists of jokes to throw at you every day." He could see steam rising from the top of Sans' head, although that was just the boiling water in the pot atop the stove. Still, it might as well have been coming from Sans, as he reacted with gripes and groans. "I'm kidding, bro, you know that." Papyrus snickered, and his brother calmed. The only noise was that of water and sauce bubbling. He was actually thinking about this.
A new year's resolution; a goal to fight for by the end of next year. Did something like that really exist for him? He could never think up one so easily. In theory, he could cop out and choose what likely every monster in the underground was – to become free by the end of year. But that didn't seem remotely possible. That wasn't going to happen any time soon. Instead, he dwelled on other matters, trying to nitpick and find the thing he could force himself to work toward for the entire year.
It seemed he spaced out again. He returned by Sans grabbing his attention to alert him that dinner was finally finished, and that it was ready to eat. The taller skeleton made himself a plate and then joined his brother on the couch out in their living room. The TV was turned onto one of Napstaton's music shows, one of Sans' favorites. Papyrus didn't mind the robot so much, and he had to admit, his music was pretty nice to listen to.
"Bone appetit, brother!" The common joke coaxed a snort out of Papyrus, and even a chuckle out of Sans. They then happily dug into their meals, eating as… well, magical skeletons could eat. They had to get their energy from somewhere and replenish their magic somehow. Plus, some foods were simply for guilty pleasure, at least in Papyrus' mouth.
A peaceful silence washed over the brothers as they were both focused on their own means: Sans' attention lied on the TV, looking as excited as ever, and Papyrus' thoughts still nagged at his potential resolution. Any other time, for anyone else, he wouldn't have cared nearly as much. Yet, Sans had such a concrete goal, and surely, he was expecting his brother to have the same. He knows that whatever he ends up choosing, Sans will support him wholly. That was another cool thing about his older brother: no one was as supportive and encouraging as he was.
A solemn glance is cast onto the blue-clad skeleton as he forwent his food in favor of watching Napstaton. The look in his sockets screamed exhilaration and fascination. A look like that… Papyrus could no longer make. He had lost all elation and delight in small things, now. Everything made no difference, and nothing changed. He often felt as though something was pulling him down, but he couldn't shake it. But, whenever he saw his brother with that look of wonder and hope, he felt just a little happier. He was bewildered at the fact that Sans could push forward with such positivity, despite all the wrongs that had been committed. If he could hold onto that hope so strongly, then, Papyrus didn't mind feeling as empty as he did. Perhaps he could slowly improve, and while he knew he could never reach Sans' level of optimism, he would settle for at least some faith for the future. That was probably the coolest thing about his big brother.
"Hey, Sans," he beckoned, half his meal already gone. Large, blue pupils rested on Papyrus, his attention now grasped. "I think I found my resolution for next year." Eagerly, Sans' hands balled into fits and he quickly shot up, nearly knocking over the plate he had precariously placed on the arm of the sofa. Papyrus could practically see his eyes forming into stars.
"Really?! Then please, tell me! The Sensational Sans needs to know!"
His anticipation was met with chortle, Papyrus reaching forward to place his bony hand atop his brother's skull. His smile was so wide, it even brightened his own, as much as a skeleton's grin could. Yep, he had a good feeling about this one.
"I'm gonna help you nab that human. Whatever you wanna do, I'll pitch in and help out with." He immediately noted tinted drops forming out of the corners of Sans' sockets, his pupils wide. Without even having to ask, the younger brother knew how the older would react.
"That's good news! No, wait, that's great news – incredible news!" Sans blabbered eagerly, blinking away the tears of happiness. Papyrus was soon tackled with small, outstretched arms, courtesy of his brother who had just thrown him into a hug. Good, he thought. He's happy. That's the entire goal. His resolution isn't only to help his brother with his own. No, that's part of a much bigger picture, one that Papyrus absolutely hopes he can carry out for years on end:
Keeping his brother happy.