This headcanon/AU thing has been on my mind for some time now, so I had to write it to get it out. Maybe somebody thinks it's as interesting as I do... (A lot of this is based around theories/discussions on tumblr - based on canon text)
He wakes up, and stares at the ceiling.
The room is dimly lit, an intricate play of light and darkness against his walls, casting shadows upon the furniture.
It looms down on him, a mockery of his plight, returning over and over to that same point in his existence where it seems as if everything can happen, but nothing ever does.
Not truly anyway.
He heaves a small sigh, trying to cease the trembling in his limbs and regain the power needed to climb out of bed and begin the new day, that isn't actually a new day at all.
Just an old one, beginning anew.
Everything feels slightly disconnected, unreal and unraveled.
He savors it, closes his eyes and reaches deep within himself to cherish the grief and disappointment. Because he knows that if he ignores it now, it will only grow, until it overtakes him at a less convenient time.
Better to allow it to run it's course when there is no one around.
It breaks him inside, a spiderweb of cracks running down the imaginary edges of his resolve and overflowing into his empty eye sockets, filling them with tears nobody will ever see.
It hurts.
This time, he thought he had done everything right. This time, he was sure it would last.
His frame crumbles in onto itself, burying into the blankets and collapsing under the immense pressure of expectations.
Maybe he should have-
No. He stops that train of thought before it even leaves the station.
Because it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what he should have done.
10 more minutes. 10 more minutes and then he drags himself out of the proverbial pit he has allowed himself to sink into, brush himself off and plaster a smile back onto his face.
This time will be the one. This time, he will do everything right.
He still believes.
Sans is always so desperate that first day, all hollow smiles and averted gazes.
Papyrus knows it's been a rough one for his brother. Because it had been a surface one, where they experience the sun on their bones for the first time, all over again. Papyrus knows he misses the stars.
They fall into the pitfall known as hope, hands grasping feebly at the last recesses of their sanity and trust.
Maybe this time?
It falls apart again.
Papyrus makes sure to appear even more content than usual, all japes and smiles.
He makes a pun, one that he has told Sans countless times over on days just like this, days exactly like this.
His brother's grin pulls up slightly, amused.
Papyrus is satisfied. If nothing else, at least he still has this.
Because for all that Sans is amazing and cool and smart, he is also... individualistic.
He thinks he knows everything there is to know about the world. He thinks he is the only one who remembers.
It is easy for Papyrus to deceive him, make him believe that he is still his precious baby brother, the image of purity itself.
He asks Sans to read him a bed time story, even if between his overzealous nature and the nightmares, he barely even sleeps.
"What's a lab?" He asks, hearing the little sigh from his sibling, fondness and exasperation that signal Papyrus is doing a good job at keeping Sans fooled.
He is an excellent actor. He can lie through his tightly clenched teeth, keep an impassive face while his insides churn with negative emotions.
As long as he can keep his suffering from his brother, he will keep smiling.
The first few days are always the worst, that intangible period between the reset and the human actually arriving in the Underground.
He uses the timespan cautiously, to further build up the image people perceive of him.
They see Papyrus, the adorable little brother. Papyrus, the oblivious, silly skeleton with an ambition to become a royal guardsman. Papyrus, the naive idiot.
They see what he wants them to see. They think they know him, got him all figured out.
There is no depth to his character.
Sometimes, he calls himself 'The Great Papyrus', a persona he builds for himself.
Like a hero, that will swoop in and save the day.
Ironical, because he's not great at all.
He is nothing. Just a side character in a ever-repeating theatrics performance that constitutes for their lives.
But he can do everything in his limited ability to maybe somehow make things right.
He doesn't want people to care.
He doesn't want to make it harder on them than it has to be, when he dies.
Papyrus doesn't have friends. They may see him as such, But he can't allow himself to view them that way.
Because he is a fraud.
Sans asks him to come with him to Grillby's, but he refuses, making up some petty reason like grease and work and whatever excuse he can get his hands on.
He's lying, of course.
But anything is better than to go there, sit between the warmth and the camaraderie, the smiling faces and the amiable atmosphere.
He doesn't deserve their kindness.
He can be what they need him to be. Encouraging. Positive. Ultimately believing in the good of everyone and everything.
And it's not even completely an act.
Because he is all these things.
But it's easier from a distance.
Up close, he will show through, like paper stretched to thin, unraveling at the edges.
The uncertainty that lies beneath. The restlessness.
Nobody must know.
So the solution is simple. Papyrus can't let them get too close.
If his loneliness is the price to pay for other people's happiness, than he will gladly lay down everything he has and call it a deal.
He has no friends.
It's better that way. They should not mourn him.
Forgettable.
When the human comes through, it's harder.
Papyrus needs to weigh every word, measure it twice.
A lot of the times, he realizes he's contradicting himself. The human probably noticed by now, but they're not saying much. They never do.
In a way, Sans is the perfect distraction.
His brother is very.. dramatic. Full of thinly veiled threats and cryptic messages, showing of his powers as if they were nothing.
It makes it even easier for Papyrus to fade into obscurity. His oddities get overlooked, misinterpreted as just another quirk of his juvenile personality.
Everyone is so focused on Sans, Papyrus has no trouble being invisible.
Sometimes, it gets hard to keep track of which persona he is upholding.
There is so much he knows, and so much he acts like he doesn't. So much he likes and so much he hates, but not consistently.
Sometimes, he doesn't even know where the real part of him ends and the pretending begins. Somewhere lost under layer upon layer of lies and deception, carefully crafted to assure everyone's happiness.
He doesn't know who Papyrus is anymore.
He tells himself it doesn't matter. As long as he is who people think he is.
The child shambles, their clothes covered in dust. They leave a trail of death in their wake and ignore his puzzles, lifeless eyes set upon an invisible goal on the distant horizon.
Sans gets all nervous and jittery, like he does. Papyrus acts all oblivious and good-hearted, like he's supposed to.
His brother does not beg him to stay this time, which is a relieve. It makes it easier for Papyrus to go out and meet death.
Like countless times before.
'Maybe this time' he keeps telling himself. 'Maybe this time'.
He's pretty much desensitized to it by now. Dying, that is.
It fills him with a certain emptiness that is known to him and him alone, that scares him on the most primal level.
Because if you don't care about dying or living, haven't you pretty much stopped caring about anything?
But Papyrus knows this to be untrue. Because he does care. Just not about himself much anymore.
The glint of the knife is familiar to him, and he has to forcefully rein his magic in, not quite able to keep it from heightening his defenses.
A part of him doesn't want to die. Part of him is frightened all over again, every time.
Sometimes he wonders what would happen if he just fought the chain of events for a change. If he just gathers up his powers and-
He could never do that. He could never hurt them.
Instead, he waits with open arms.
Waits for the pain, waits for the almost elated feeling he gets when the knife plunges through him.
"I still believe in you." He says.
And it's true.
He still believes.
I will most likely add some chapters to this. Not a consistent story, but just more scenes taking place in this AU/headcanon. Speaking of which: hit me up on tumblr: Sharada-n I love discussing my fanfics and different fantheories (especially about UT, especially especially about Papyrus)