There's Still Hope
Papyrus often felt like he was forgetting something. Or rather, there was something he didn't understand.
Visions, of the human and him facing one another from a distance. His brother crying out his name from somewhere far off. A gleam of red eyes and a silver knife. The faint sight of dust and snow blowing in the wind… then darkness - cold and unrelenting. And like the strange nostalgia that overtook him in those visions, Papyrus could feel a sense of deja vu, from this scene he swears he had experienced, oh so many times before.
He stared at the human. Someone who he felt he had at one point been close to. Someone who he felt, was like a long lost friend. Yet, instead of sharing an embracement like old friends should, the other remained cold, similar to the serene landscape that surrounded them.
This 'human,' continued to ignore what Papyrus thought to be great advice. Sure, he probably shouldn't have called the human a 'freaking weirdo,' or put them down for not sharing his passion of puzzles… but how else was he going to get his point across? This human, that he had only just met, but felt like he had known for ages, was walking down what he felt was a dangerous path. He didn't want that. Wouldn't have that, for someone who he knew had potential and could be great like himself, if only they'd try.
Papyrus let out a laugh as the human drew closer. He knew that the other was still disregarding everything he said, but felt like he could make progress. Somehow get through to them, as he decided to be the guidance that he knew they needed. That's when he had announced himself as this human's friend and tutor. Even if they could've already been friends - somewhere, at some point - in this confusing array of a life.
He thought about Sans. His older brother, who had been there with him since the beginning. Sans, who loved ketchup and telling bad puns, while plaguing his life with incidental music. The very same Sans, who was nothing but kind to Papyrus, did nothing but encourage his passions, and who was always there for him, regardless of his laziness. Yes, if there was one thing Papyrus truly loved, more-so than this world and himself, it was his brother. The one person who he constantly sought to make proud, by increasing the greatness of himself and others. The one person that made him realize, that there is good in this world and in every person, but only if they chose it.
At this point, Papyrus welcomed the human with open arms, as he watched them draw closer then before. The human was still acting strange, but he considered their next course of action to be 'a hug of acceptance.' An act that gave Papyrus confidence, to help the human realize their true self and-!
Vision after vision - death after death - began to flood his skull, and make him see only dust. Each vision of death - a hand snapping a neck, a knife slashing deep - allowing him to piece together all the times he could recall Sans' indifference, or sudden bursts of affection.
Papyrus understood what the visions were now. That the visions had been memories. The dust he had been seeing… was his from numerous deaths. Understood, that Sans' had known all along, and was losing hope. He just wasn't able to piece it all together in time, before the knife cut through the vertebrae of his throat.
Looking up at the human from the ground, as his body slowly turned to dust in the snow beside him, Papyrus did not expect this outcome. Not after he remembered who this human - who Frisk - was, and what they had meant to him. What they 'still' meant to him.
"St-… Still! I believe in you!" He uttered out hoping - wanting - his words to reach his dear friend.
"You can do a little better! Even if you don't think so!"
Yes, he would continue to believe. Continue to have faith and encourage Frisk, just like Sans had done for him, ever since he could remember.
"I… I promise…"
Yes… he would still believe, for not only Frisk's sake, but for Sans as well. So that the human can fight the bad within their-self, and Sans can find the hope to once again, not give up.
Papyrus continued to look up at the human, swearing he could see tears in their eyes. A sign that there was indeed still good within Frisk. But there was nothing he could do now, as he began to feel the last of himself disintegrate into dust. His only regret, not being able to tell Frisk or Sans, why he still believed. That in spite of all these timelines - good or bad and however many there may be - and the fact that he'll keep forgetting them, he will not give up hope for a better outcome for his loved ones.
Feeling his consciousness begin to fade away, Papyrus slowly gave himself to the dark, bitter, and unforgiving coldness of oblivion. The last thing he heard, being the faint call of his name, from somewhere far off.
"Please… Sans… show this human mercy. Please… " But his words were cut short, as the wind carried his voice, with the last of his remains. The human - Frisk - walking on through a mixture of dust and snow, that had once been the being, known as Papyrus.