When Sans had first gotten a grasp on where he was, the world had terrified him. Humans were everywhere. They mingled with monsters he remembered sweeping away years ago. They all looked at him oddly and spoke muffled words he couldn't hear. Everything was just too cloudy. He'll admit: he had panicked a few times and caused a few accidents, but it's not like he couldn't help himself. Free EXP was just walking around everywhere, but with this many humans, he couldn't afford to be so reckless. However, he couldn't control himself during these times. Usually Papyrus would be here to help and comfort him, as he always did.

But Papyrus was gone.


"Maggie, let's go! Come on!" Fuku called, running to catch up with Blaine. "Okay okay, hold on!" the young Vulkin called after her, trying her hardest to keep up with the two. It wasn't exactly fair that Blaine had a skateboard and Maggie was about half both of their sizes, but damn it if she didn't at least try. She had four legs and a whole lot of determination, but it still wasn't enough. While she was able to gain a bit of ground, she had to stop at the crosswalk once traffic started up again. She swore when she realized that her friends had made it over just in time. She tried to peer over the rushing cars to see if her friends were waiting for her, but to no avail. She was going to wait it out, but the movie was going to start in five minutes. She had no time. Maybe there was a way to get there faster?

That's when a familiar blue and gray caught her eyes. "Hmm? Oh! Sans!" she called over, running to the hooded frame of the skeleton. She didn't know the skeleton too well, but he had once given her a shortcut to school as an add-on to a pretty expensive hotdog (50G if you could believe it). Sans was turned away from her, in his usual jacket and shorts as always with his arms crossed in a stiff manner. This time, he had his gray hood over his skull. He seemed to jolt slightly when he heard his name called and briskly began to walk away. Maggie frowned at this, but just shrugged it off and walked after him.

"Sans, hey, can I ask for a reeeaaallly big favor?" she panted, already tired from all that running. Sans didn't answer. She just took it as him listening. "Okay, so I need to get to the cinema, but the movie starts in five minutes," she began to explain. "You know a shortcut, right? You always know a shortcut. It's just the theater down the block. Can you help me out? I'll buy another hotdog! Heck, I'll buy you a movie ticket if you want! I just need to get there! I-... Sans?"

About halfway through her little speech, she stopped when Sans entered an alleyway. She was a bit confused when she saw the dead end, but that's when she realized it must be another one of his shortcuts. She ran in after him, but was forced to halt once again upon seeing him stop as well. "Sans?" she huffed, bewildered by the monster's strange behavior.

"Sans, are you feeling okay?" she asked, trotting up in front of him and facing him. Sans had his head tilted downwards to where the shadows of the alley and his hood covered his skull, though she could still see that grin he was so well-know for. His hands slowly rose to embrace himself, the bones in his hands tightly clutching his arms. It was something you would see scared or deeply troubled monsters and humans do. Those who had arms, of course, which was something the Vulkin knew all too well. A shudder seemed to overtake him, something that Maggie didn't think skinless skeletons really did; however, the sudden movement did cause her to realize that something was falling from Sans' coat. It was particles, floating through the air like flour or something of the like. It was a very fine substance, and after a quick, more detailed look at Sans' jacket, she realized what the thin, easily breathable, deathly gray powder was. This wasn't Sans. This wasn't Sans at all. She began to finally feel the raw evil power, almost pungent in the air with its aura. What had she gotten herself into?

Maggie's eyes began to well with fear as she slowly started to back away further into the alley, watching Sans' every move. She finally noticed the now sporadic movements he made, as well the way he seemed to get closer to her with each time she looked away, even if she was blinking. "Sans, stay back," she warned, already beginning to feel her magma begin to bubble up inside her, getting ready to erupt at the slightest sound. "I'm warning you! I don't want to hurt you! Don't make me, okay?" She heard the low chuckle coming from Sans. Oh god, that laugh sounded so unnatural, almost as unnatural as the way Sans' already wide smile seemed to only be getting bigger and bigger by the second. Another shudder tore through the skeleton, and he took another step forward, getting closer to the backing-up Maggie. That's when Sans began to lift his skull some, his sockets coming up to look at the young, too young, Vulkin.

That expression. That expression terrified her. It was something she could only hope to see in her deepest nightmares. She felt her hope go out the window as her magic died down with fear. She backed up more, but she quickly hit the brick wall of a dead end. Sans was blocking the way, and he was only getting closer. Out of pure instinct, she let out a scream, just she saw the sharp bones spear up from the ground.


Papyrus hummed to himself happily as he made his way home, the bags of varying pasta noodles and other ingredients hanging taut from his ulnas. He had to admit, while it was a beautiful day outside, Papyrus didn't particularly feel all too sunny. It felt weird, just wandering the town of mostly humans without his brother there to crack a few one-liners. Sans hadn't accompanied him on the trip this time, saying something about needing to catch up with a friend. Papyrus knew it had something to do with the phone calls Sans had been getting, which were getting more and more frequent. He was constantly stopping in the middle of conversations to start a new one on his phone. And then it would be off to Grillby's for a few rounds of ketchup. It was quite annoying, if Papyrus was to be honest, but it was also quite worrying. What was keeping Sans away?

Papyrus looked up at the sun, taking a moment to admire it. It seemed to be in the middle of the sky, not too late for a quick stop by someplace to maybe greet a few former residents of the Underground. Muffet's was always a good place to stop by, and her spiders sure did seem to like him, but Sans had asked him to stop going there after coming back with pretty much no money each time. He felt that visiting Onionsan at the beach would be a fun time, but after the little sinking incident a few months back, he was rather hesitant now. So why not the always best choice: Frisk and their family? Miss Toriel was always happy to have him, and Frisk just loved telling him all about school, as well as listening to him talk about his daily life. Of course, he could also go see Undyne and Aphys and possibly get to see Mettaton, but they have been strangely busy over the past few days. It would make sense, though, with the both of them performing their royal duties and such (not-so-royal for Undyne, seeing as the Guard had merged with the human's police force into just being two different units).

So it was settled then: Papyrus would go out to see his bestest friends, Frisk. He pulled to the outer edge of the sidewalk, leaning against a building as he took out his phone and searched for the human's number in his large library of five numbers.

Just as Papyrus had found Frisk's number, he heard a scream pierce the air over the sound of passing cars. He blinked his sockets in surprise and looked up at the direction the cry, which was quickly cut short by a sound he couldn't quite describe. It was a mix between tearing and stone breaking, and then a sudden silence. His Royal Guard in-training instincts kicked in, and seeing as the sidewalk was almost empty save for a sleeping Knight Knight on a bench, he went to investigate.

Papyrus put his phone away and rounded the corner, nearly dropping his bags at who he saw. It was his brother, Sans, standing with his back facing him and his hood up. Papyrus was rather surprised, as Sans had said he would be at Grillby's for the rest of the evening. What was he doing in such a dingy alley like this? He hesitantly set the bags on his arms down, approaching his brother. "Brother? What are you doing here in such an unsanitary place?" he spoke, approaching Sans from behind.

Sans suddenly jolted as if being touched with a fire poker, spinning around at a faster speed than Papyrus even thought possible for him. The smaller skeleton raised a hand, as if he was about to summon an attack, but he seemed to catch himself. Strange; Sans hadn't used an attack on anyone in years. This immediately worried the younger brother, who took a step back in surprise upon seeing how Sans so harshly readied his magic. There was anger in those movements. Hate and fear and desperation, and so much of them at that. Papyrus' soul grew heavy from it. But that wasn't all that was wrong with Sans.

With the exception of having his hood up, everything about Sans just seemed wrong. His hand was kept frozen in the air, his fingers twitching, almost uncontrolled. The jacket he usually wore was strangely faded and even a bit worn, with a couple of tears and stains visible in the fabric. He was wearing white shirt as well, something that tipped Papyrus off as being extremely wrong, as Sans had left wearing a red shirt with a terrible pun as its print. However, what really knocked hard on the skeleton's skull was Sans' face. That awful, petrifying look that Papyrus had never thought he'd ever see on his older brother. His eye sockets were wide open, the eyelights inside almost pinpricks. Speaking of the eyelights, those were fairly unnatural looking as well. The right socket had the glowing white light ringed with red, almost the same color as the scarf that was currently draped around the taller one's cervical vertebrae. The left socket had the same blue that Papyrus was used to seeing within their magic and during some of Sans' more unpleasant moments. Around the blue iris, though, was another red ring.

And that expression. Several emotions were clearly spread across Sans' face: fear, anger, panic, confusion, and desperation. But Papyrus saw something that disturbed him. Something that he never wanted to see on Sans again.

Sans looked tired. He looked so tired, and it wasn't the kind his own brother had before a long nap; it seemed as if his brother- no, not-brother- hadn't slept in months. The way the tops of his sockets sagged, unable to move any higher, and how his eyelights moved in a slow and lethargic fashion; he looked to be just tired and confused. He even seemed to have trouble-

"Papyrus?"

Papyrus' train of thought was suddenly broken when his not-brother spoke. It had surprised him so much, as his voice sounded so unnatural;it was so rough, as if Sans had not spoken in many years. But why had he said his name so suddenly?

"P-Papyrus?" the Sans repeated. There was his name again. "Sans? Are you…. are you okay?" he replied, despite already knowing that whoever this monster was, it wasn't his Sans.

"Papyrus, is that you?" this other version of his brother spoke, sounding so shaky, as though one wrong word would dust him on the spot. The skeleton in question was frozen to where he stood, not knowing what to do. Without waiting for an answer, his not-brother began to approach him, his steps seeming to be so heavy and dragging that you would have thought he had large weights tied to his tibias. Papyrus found that the ability to run away had returned to him, but he didn't turn around. He couldn't. Not when this Sans looked so troubled and distressed.

The twitchy Sans stopped in front of the taller monster, looking up at him with constricted lights and shaking bones. He reached forward, his phalanges stretching to grab hold of something on Papyrus, or perhaps just hoping to touch Papyrus himself. However, the hand stopped just before they could make contact, beginning to shake as if it was scared of what would happen if contact was indeed made. So the hand was dropped, leaving the false Sans to just stare up at Papyrus from behind heavy sockets.

The two stood in complete silence, a silence that drowned out the rushing of the cars outside of the alley. Papyrus needed to break the silence, for this Sans didn't seem all too like his brother, and not in the good way. He noticed the smaller skeleton's lights shift down to Papyrus' scarf, staring at it as if it was some crown jewel. And that's when it hit him like a ton of bricks. He now knew why this Sans shook the way he did, and why his movements were so slow and lethargic, why he wore his hood over his skull, or even why he was so sporadic in his movements: Sans was cold.

It all made sense now. Of course, the colored eyelights still needed to be explained, but he would ask about that later. It was rather cold out, and being dressed in casual clothing fitting the weather, Papyrus was happy to lend over an article of warmth. Seeing as Sans already had on a jacket, he didn't remove his own light coat, but instead slid his red scarf off from around his vertebrae. He honestly felt a bit silly now, thinking that his own bone and marrow brother was some odd imposter. His imagination really did get the best of him sometimes. "Here you go, brother!" Papyrus cheered, his jovial tone of voice returning as he reached down and slipped the scarf around the older's cervical vertebrae, making sure it was secure. "You won't have to feel cold anymore." Sans immediately jolted at the contact and his rose about a fraction of an inch, but the other hand quickly grabbed that arm and held it down, as if restraining himself.

Sans stared up at Papyrus, sockets now wide in shock and disbelief. However, his expression quickly melted into one that seemed to convey joy, but contained a large amount of sadness. He looked ready to cry, but no tears fell. "Oh my god," he heard Sans whisper. "It's you. It's really you. Oh god, you're back." Papyrus was taken aback when he suddenly had his waist embraced by his brother. "Back? What do you-?"

"I'm sorry," was what cut Papyrus off. Sans pulled away for only a moment, but it was just to tug Papyrus down to his level to embrace him once again. "I'm so sorry," Sans repeated, his voice cracking. He sounded so close to sobs, but nothing fell. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I-I know…. I know you must…. I didn't want to- oh god, you're really back." Sentences were started but never finished. Sobs were choked back, but never released. Sans just kept whispering how sorry he was. How Papyrus had finally come back.

Papyrus stared forward, his mind reeling. He had been right: this was no Sans of his. Or, at least, this wasn't the Sans he knew and loved. This one just seemed so lost. He seemed broken. Papyrus' arm slowly rose to wrap around him and return the embrace. The Sans jolted at his touch, but ended up just hugging him tighter. Papyrus continued to stare forward at the cold, stone ground in front of him.

There was a pile of gray dust, spread carelessly over the gray concrete, almost blending in had it not been for the fact that some much of it was gathered into one spot. Circling around the dust jutted out large bones, all angled inwardly. They had such sharp, jagged points, clearly summoned with the intention to hurt. The strangest part was that all the bones were a distinct purple shade, almost like a lilac. Such a soft color shouldn't be speckled with sprays of a dead gray. He had never seen magic like that. It was unknown to him. As much as his mind tried to deny what the powder was, the bones only confirmed his belief.

His thoughts dominating over the sound of Sans' cries, morbid curiosity got the best of Papyrus. He slowly rubbed his gloved hands over the back of Sans' jacket, getting a few good strokes in before shakily lifting his hand to peek at the palm. The entire palm and inner fingers of the red gloved were covered in a gray dusty powder. Sans was absolutely covered in it, hence the fade of the clothing.

Sans was covered in dust.

Papyrus' mind went blank for a moment, every fiber in his being screaming for him to get away from the monster he was embracing, but he just couldn't.

Sans wouldn't stop mumbling his apologies. He sounded so broken.

Papyrus gave a slow nod to the apologies, wrapping his arms tighter around Sans.