This was a good opportunity to get up, wasn't it?
With a pained grunt, Papyrus heaved himself to his feet and brushed himself off as best he could, giving a wince at the state of his injured arm. it was cracked and chipped in several places, barely clinging to the joint. It was fairly painful, to say the least. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards a bit, eyeing the scene warily, his core humming apprehensively.
Sans had gone silent. His eye had stopped burning with red fire, and the surroundings chilled once the flames and furious aura receded, leaving them in frigid apprehension. In all honesty, Papyrus still didn't trust it. He wanted to pull Frisk back, but one look and he knew that wasn't happening. The small child had buried their face in Sans' chest, shoulders hunched as they leaned almost all of their weight on him. They were too tired to cry anymore, too weary to fight back.
The skeleton they were clinging to was absolutely speechless, staring into the horizon with a helpless expression on his face. Traces of fear still clung to the pinpricks of light in his eye sockets that served for pupils, and his bony fingers shook. Time and time again his jaw clicked open, only to close as words failed him. He looked lost, broken, empty.
"...Sans?" Papyrus whispered, his voice wavering as it broke the silence, making everyone jump. Slowly, his brother turned to look at him, dazed, as if he were laying eyes on someone he didn't know. He tore himself from Frisk's grasp, and left them swaying uncertainly as he took a few steps back, his sneakers slipping precariously on the ice.
"No," he rasped, shaking his head rapidly, and holding up a hand that made Papyrus and Frisk flinch, as if trying to ward them off. "No. No, I.. You can't.. This isn't.."
"Sans," Papyrus tried again, making his tone gentle so the other wouldn't act irrationally. "It's... it's going to be alright, we can all-"
"No!" Sans cried out, sharply looking away. "It's not supposed to be this way!"
Distraught and confused, the shorter skeleton rushed off, diving into a small ripple in time and space, vanishing in a puff of red. He'd teleported away.
Papyrus sagged, and slowly sat down on the frigid ground, still a bit dazed after everything. His bones felt like they were vibrating and splintering, but everything was just eerily still. Even the wind had quieted a bit. He let out a long, heavy exhale and slouched. Sans was gone. They didn't know where he was anymore, and his entire body ached, and his arm was shattered, and he couldn't teleport because he wasn't that powerful.
Amazing.
The sound of feet dragging through snow caught his attention, and he looked up swiftly, in time to see Frisk plod towards him slowly. They fiddled with the gloves he'd given them and glanced up at him questioningly, biting their lip. Despite the fact that Papyrus had saved them and provided some warmth, and even gone as far as to rebel against his tyrannical sibling.. They were still wary. Afraid.
Frankly, Papyrus didn't blame them. Images of flashing blue bones and soft cries for mercy echoed in his skull, making him shudder. He shook his head and stood, squinting down at them skeptically. Bonding and re-gaining trust could wait. His brother was at large, and though he himself had managed to convince one or two fellow monsters, along with a handful of the minor ones.. They were still in trouble. Big Trouble.
"Any ideas?" he asked gruffly, his voice giving way a bit. Frisk lowered their eyes and seemed to think for a bit before they pointed back in the direction of Snowdin, gaze questioning. What on earth was that supposed to mean? They had limited time because lord knew where Sans had poofed off to, and he couldn't waste it on something like charades-...
The taller skeleton took a deep breath to calm himself and blurted out words, trying to give meaning to Frisk's gestures.
"Snowdin? Others? Home?" he tried, getting a rapid nod at his last guess. "You're asking if there's a possibility that Sans went home? I highly doubt that. It's not the most inconspicuous place. Secondly, it's not safe. For us, anyway. Too many people who support him."
Slightly defeated, the little one gave a helpless shrug and looked off into the horizon in bleary silence, save for the occasional sniffle. Their brain was too fried to think right. Papyrus huffed and gazed into the darkness between the skeletal trees, eye socket ringed with an orange glow of frustration for a few brief seconds. Where could Sans have gone? Snowdin was out of the question, and Alphys.. he'd called her unreliable. No way he'd go to her for reinforcement. Toriel was too near, so that meant..
"Asgore!" he cried out, making the human beside him jump and gasp, startled. "He's headed for Asgore, of course- Frisk? Frisk... Frisk, breathe!"
His human companion had paled, their chest growing tight at the feared name, limbs beginning to shake from terror, and not cold. Asgore. They'd heard that name down in the Ruins, with Toriel. She'd warned them, threatened them with his presence if they didn't behave. She'd told them of the horrible things he was capable of doing.
A black veil started to crawl into their vision, wheezing gasps escaping their chapped lips as they tried to regain control of themselves, but it just wasn't working. Panic seeped through them, flowed through their very bloodstream. They could hear screaming in their skull, they could feel their heartbeat in their eyes. Faintly, they could hear Papyrus talking urgently, feel his bony fingers digging into their shoulders desperately as the icy hand squeezing their airways tightened.
He'll kill us, he'll kill us, we're all dead, dead, dead...
Frisk's eyes began to flutter, and they felt as if they were floating headfirst into the sky when the blackness came.
Filler chapter to make you guys suffer a little bit. ;)