In war, there is such a thing as neutral territory. Ground upon which both parties should feel safe to move, usually there where negotiations will find place.
Papyrus never thought he and Sans needed neutral territory.
They share. His brother and him share a home, they've shared a bed and they've shared their food. Give them a crumb and somehow the two of them would manage to divide it equally.
(And why does that thought sounds so eerily familiar, become so readily available?)
This is the way it is, the way it always has been and the way Papyrus thought it would be forever.
Until now. Because this conversation needs to happen, has been long overdue, but somewhere they got stuck at the basics.
Sans doesn't like the institution and Papyrus can't do this at their house. Sans's house as far as he's concerned, for Papyrus has barely lived there. The walls are strange and the sights foreign and he can't deal with that on top of whatever Sans will dish out when they're talking.
Neutral territory it is.
And so they walk. All the way to where the now fades back into the then. And maybe it's not really level ground at all, because it is weighted down with their memories. But isn't that just what makes it so perfect?
Unsure whether Sans wants to return back into the caverns of the mountain, or just keep their hike to the summit of it, Papyrus chooses to walk a few paces behind the shorter skeleton. It's oddly reminiscent of a past time, if in the reverse position. His brother continually trailed behind him then, quite literally watching his back.
Sans would be very amused by the thought.
Then again, maybe Sans was just following because leading is hard and he's not very good at hard things.
The easiest path is that of least resistance and his brother always had the lowest defense imaginable. But sometimes you simply got to take a hit, sometimes there is no invading the upcoming battle.
This was definitely one of those times for them.
"You think this is far enough?" Sans finally breaks the silence that descended upon them after leaving the car. They're more than half-way up the mountain now, the view is absolutely stunning.
Papyrus finds himself agreeing with Frisk. It's an excellent sight to grace one's eyes before death.
He nods but Sans keeps on walking, slower this time so they can match pace. A cue that he's expecting Papyrus to start talking.
Papyrus doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to say anything, he wants to just enjoy the little dotting of houses bathing in sunshine in the distance, pretend like the blue of this sky has been all they've ever known. He wants to erase everything that happened before they came here and most that came after too.
He still wants it to all be over, thought in a different way than he used to. A healthier way.
His doctor would be proud simply for him realizing that.
"You remember when I told you right... About-" Papyrus starts.
"I remember." Sans sounds as tired as Papyrus feels and they sure do make a lovely pair like this, don't they?
Broken bones and dust and brotherhood. A perfect mess.
He grabs his brother's hand, his fingers are cold. For a second Sans looks as if he wants to draw back, but he doesn't, and Papyrus is grateful.
"You need to let me finish now." He says. "I need to talk. And you need to listen."
"I'm sorry." Sans mumbles, and Papyrus is sure he isn't but lets go anyway.
"You remember when I first told you, when we came here. About knowing all along." And it's true, because they were hiking too then, surrounding themselves with trees and shrubs and peace.
Things they never had underground.
"I remember being upset." Sans says, when Papyrus doesn't continue. "Because you didn't tell me sooner."
"I know." There is no green now. The leaves are rotting on the ground and the trees are bare, stark and black and everything is dead. "I was scared."
He stops Sans, grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to face him, because his legs feel like jelly, weak, and he needs to look at him to say this.
"I was scared of telling you because I knew I would hurt you. Because I didn't know how you would react and I was so tired, Sans. Tired of everything and-"
It hurts, his soul hurts all over again and he still can't say it, not out loud, not to Sans. Anyone but Sans. But he doesn't have to.
"And you wanted to die, right?" Sans knows, his voice is eerily calm and Papyrus can tell it is nothing new for him, a depressing familiarity with the want for death.
He never considered the extent of his brother's tiredness either.
He knew Sans was sad and he knew it made him lazy and hopeless and a cynical ass from time to time. But Papyrus never deemed that maybe his brother too-
It makes him want to cry, hold Sans and promise him he'll never hide anything from him again, but they can't do that yet. They can't-
"I didn't tell you, because you didn't want to know." Papyrus says at last, and this is it. This is what they'll have to face now, after all this time. "You never listened to me, Sans."
"I didn't wh-" He takes a step back, arms falling uselessly to his side and Papyrus can see that those words hit home. That the first blow has been dealt.
There is nothing for it now but to keep going.
"You. Didn't. Listen. You just wanted this idea of me, this up-beat positive persona you condemned me to, but you never cared to see anything else. You didn't want to." It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
How has it come to this?
"W-What?! Jesus, Papyrus, are you even listening to yourself right now?" And Sans is defensive, closes up faster than he even imagined. "You decided to take up that role, not I. You made yourself a martyr and you can't blame that on us now."
"I did not decide to be treated like a child by everyone, yet that's somehow where we ended up, isn't it. You always-" It sticks to his mandible and is this really what they wanted. Blame each other for their shared misery.
This isn't about finding a scapegoat, there is no blame here.
"You always think you're right, Sans. You always think that what you're doing is best for everyone. But it isn't..."
His brother stares at his feet, maybe there's shame on his face or maybe there isn't. Papyrus can't tell. He's tired of this already.
It's not nearly as fulfilling as he thought it would be.
"I'm sorry." Sans says, as if a simple apology could ever be enough again. The fight has left him as fast as it came and he looks even smaller now. Even more breakable.
But Papyrus can't hold him until he hears Sans say it.
"I'm sorry, Paps, not for what i've done. But for allowing it to come to this, ok? You're right, I haven't been the best brother I could be in a long while."
And then it's there and it feels like everything just broke a little bit more. Destruction is always the first step in creation.
"I haven't exactly been the best brother myself." Papyrus says, and he knows it's true as soon as he utters the words.
Then Sans sobs and Papyrus holds him, because it's finally ok to do so again, and the clouds that have drifted in while they were talking start showering them in light snowfall.
"I shouldn't have lied to you." Papyrus says, though he doesn't exactly feel regret for doing it all those years either.
Sans laughs, slightly self-deprecating. "I shouldn't have put you in a position where you thought lying was your only option."
And it tastes like relief.
"It's fine." Papyrus holds him closer, crushes him to his chest, doesn't want to ever let go. They could sit here together and be swallowed by the snow forever, and he wouldn't have a single complaint. "We're fine now, it's fine."
It isn't fine, but it will be someday.
"It's not gonna eat you or anything." Alex laughs, and they're holding their stomach, as if this is one of the funniest things they have ever seen.
Papyrus just draws his legs further up the couch, does his best to look affronted. "I don't care what you say, just keep it away from me."
The dog turns to him, as if noticing it's being talked about, and Papyrus frowns at it harder. It doesn't seem impressed.
"I can't believe you're being so rude to Brady." Marcus says besides him. He tries to beckon the animal over with gentle hand gestures but the dog's preoccupied with Alex's petting. "We barely get him here, the pediatric unit always hogs him."
"Think of the wee little children." Alex imitates in a weird high voice, some cultural reference Papyrus doesn't get, their hands tangled into the long golden fur of the Retriever.
The dog slobbers all over the floor, tail wagging excitingly, and Alex coos at it as if somehow the mess is quite an achievement. Papyrus scowls instead.
So, therapy dogs. He doesn't get the point.
"You need to start thinking about your life after this." Doctor Burke tells him, and just like that it's real.
Papyrus knew this wouldn't last forever, the tranquility the institution has to offer is not something of the real world. It's been three months.
And despite the confrontation and the nightmares and the emptiness, they have been three months of peace. The outside world is waiting and Papyrus isn't sure it won't tear him right apart again.
"What is there to think about?" He asks, and for somebody that overthinks everything it's a stupid thing to say, he realizes.
"Simple things at first." Burke explains. "Where you're going to be living, what you're going to fill your days with. Good preparation and attainable goals are paramount to prevent relapse."
Until then, Papyrus hadn't really considered anything besides returning to the same old routine was even an option. Going back to live with Sans, fill his days with cleaning the house and cooking and staring at the wall and-
Why had he never thought it could be any different, or was he just too tired to change?
Papyrus hopes he's not as tired anymore, but even now he is not sure.
"You'll be coming in as an out-patient for regular therapy, so if you're planning to look for work or education, it will have to be part-time." His doctor explains.
It sounds unreal, like it's not him this is happening to.
"I... I'd have no idea what I want to do." He mumbles, ashamed. So detached from his own personality he can't even figure out what he wants for himself.
Pathetic.
"That's fine." Doctor Burke says, and his eyes are soft, compassionate. Papyrus can't remember why he disliked this man. "You have time. We can figure it out together."
Because he reminds him of somebody that doesn't exist anymore and maybe never did?
"What about living arrangements. Do you want to go back to living with your brother?"
There it is, the other shoe always drops.
"I don't know." Papyrus admits. Honesty has become easy for him, sometimes. Not with Sans though.
"Well, I think it's fair to say your brother has had a rather significant influence on your life, if it's ok with you I'd..." The doctor stops and while Papyrus already knows what he is going to ask, he can't do anything to stop it.
Like watching a car crash in slow motion.
"I'd like to meet him." Burke finishes. "So we can talk."
His first instinct is to refuse, maybe deny he ever had a brother in the first place and jump out of the nearest window with the excuse of a much needed bathroom break.
Sans isn't the only one in their family who has a knack for avoidance after all.
Instead, Papyrus just nods, feeling like his limbs are too heavy to move. "Of course, I'm sure he'll like that."
Honesty isn't always the best option, and for the first time in a while he fakes a smile.
This chapter is a bit shorter, since sadly I've come down with pneumonia, but I wanted to post something anyway.
Thanks for the comments, they lift my heart.