- Sacrifice is a form of bargaining -
Frisk pulls him aside a few days later, when all of them are gathered at Toriel's for pizza Friday.
Their room is small, overflowing with toys, but neat and Frisk makes him sit on their bed, between the stuffed animals.
They stare at each other for the longest time. The human isn't one for words and Papyrus isn't anymore either, now that he has stopped pretending. There's nothing left to say.
Then, they ask very quietly if he wants them to reset the timeline.
Before he can even react there are tears in their eyes and Papyrus realizes he hasn't seen them cry, not even once, in those past few weeks.
Their body shakes with sobs and he becomes suddenly aware of how small they are.
Frisk tells him about their vow. The vow made on a mountain bathed in sunlight and laughter. The vow to never do it over again. The vow that isn't meant to be broken.
They ask Papyrus if they can break it now, please?
He doesn't even need to think twice about the answer.
Determination is a silly thing. Papyrus always thought it was something to be admired, when it was still just the power to get up after falling down.
Now he can see it for what it is. A stubbornness bordering on insanity.
He's staring at charts again, Papyrus sure is seeing a lot of those in his final weeks, and Alphys looks about as apologetic as she can, given the circumstances. She doesn't want to be here any more than he does.
Frisk is pointing out various brightly colored lines and telling him about anomalies and changes in the timelines and Papyrus can see they're grasping at straws.
They're telling him he doesn't need to die. They're telling him it might be different, if they just try again. And again. And again...
Frisk never stops trying. They all found that out the hard way.
Papyrus says he wouldn't want things any other way.
With wide eyes, they demand to know why anyone would just give up on themselves like that.
He asks them why they climbed that mountain.
Nothing more is said after that.
The next day, Frisk brings a book. Papyrus thinks they want to have another shot at changing his mind, but it's something else.
He's confused at first, about what buckets have to do with anything?
Then he gets it.
He starts that night, using a stray old notebook and the marker he used for his calendar.
It has become pretty hard to write, when parts if his fingers are all but broken off. They still heal now, but Alphys assures him that won't last.
Sans doesn't question why he's always wearing gloves, at least.
He's done after just one evening of work.
He shows Frisk what he wrote, all the stuff he thought of, but after reading it they frown and hand it back.
They tell him a bucket list should be about all the things he wants to do before dying that would make him happy, not things that make Sans happy.
Papyrus doesn't point out that he doesn't see the difference.
It's dark, the middle of the night. The engine makes an unpleasant sound and Papyrus isn't sure if this is good for the car at all, but he doesn't care. He won't be driving it much anymore.
The highway is completely empty, just like he wrote on his list. There are no speed limits here.
Undyne is there, but only because everybody agreed it wouldn't be smart to let him go alone. Papyrus wonders if they think he will fling himself against a tree or something.
He's dying already, it wouldn't matter.
He's is standing next to Sans in a room that is barely lit. Some narrator is droning on in the background about moon landings and the possibility of terrestrial life. There is a large screen, larger than the screens Mettaton used to have even, displaying white and yellow dots in a vast darkness.
Papyrus isn't looking at it. He's looking at Sans, looking at it. At the little widening of his eye sockets and his amazed grin. When they show what a supernova looks like, Sans grips his arm in excitement.
Afterwards, he takes out a map and drags Papyrus around the museum, talking more than he has in longer than Papyrus cares to remember.
He'll miss hearing his brother's voice.
Afterwards, they're sitting on a blanket in their garden. The stars are bright tonight and Sans points them out, naming them just like the guide's voice had done back at the show.
He leans against Papyrus, no warmth shared between them, and wonders out loud how long the lights they're seeing have faded from the skies.
A very, very long time, they both agree.
Then Sans turns to him. "So, bro, what made you change your mind?"
"Change my mind about what?" Papyrus stretches his legs, feeling his feet crumble to dust a bit more.
"About going to the space museum? We were going to go in spring, when they opened that new exhibit. With the real rocket." His voice is laced with wonder as he speaks.
Lying to Sans has never been easier. "Just a fancy... You can still go see that rocket, if you want."
Sans says that's a stellar idea, and Papyrus groans at the pun, as is expected of him, pushing back against his brother.
This is probably the only thing he will miss, and it takes a lot not to say so out loud.
