It was pouring, and you didn't feel like getting up.
No one was in the park today; humanity always cloistered itself away when the sky opened its heart. The birds and the beasts too — they hid in the trees, hid in their dens, and it was just you out there in the middle of sodden, glistening grass, clad in clothes so far beyond drenched that they could barely be called protection anymore..
You stared up at the grey swath of sky encompassing the entirety of your vision, and like this, contemplating it with a cool distance, you found yourself hard-pressed to recall the world as it once was. It made you unable to mourn, unable to feel true sorrow, because how could you miss something you couldn't even remember clearly? It was nostalgia for a feeling more than a coherent memory. Like waking up from a wonderful dream, and being confronted with the dreary world around you: that was the feeling that pervaded your entire life.
Sleeping was like smiling, you realized suddenly. When you stopped, it was like the world fell away in little pieces, leaving you there, small and alone. You didn't know how to bear the mismatched mess of shattered glass you'd been left with, so you closed your eyes and tried to drift off. Papyrus certainly wouldn't visit you on a day like this, and with no one else around, you had no duties to perform. As long as you could keep dreaming, you could forget even the clamminess of your body as it tried to learn how to shiver.
It was then that you heard it, heavy boots sloshing wetly against the mud and a shout that sounded quite familiar, though strangely distorted in its tone.
"CRANE!"
The rain suddenly abated as he dropped to his knees by your side, and when you creaked your eyes open, his face encompassed your entire world, haloed by a red-brimmed umbrella held out over the pair of you. Shifting, you looked up at the difficult expression that took up the spot where his normally smiling face should be. Did you do something wrong?
...Normally, he was so happy to see you…
"Hello, Great Papyrus," you greeted him in your usual soft tone. "How are you today?"
"I - " He choked out, his voice puzzlingly quiet. "I'm sorry. I should have come sooner."
You blinked slowly at him, the pittering of fat droplets filling the silence. After a few moments of him holding the umbrella over you, his gloved hands tight on the handle, you bluntly said, "I don't understand."
His expression darkened even further, and you felt something lance through your chest at the way he bowed his head in pain. Normally you didn't say the wrong thing, and you never, ever intended to hurt with your words. So, in a gesture of apology, you reached up to trace your fingertips across the side of his face. He flinched as the wetness marked the slants of the bone, and you were about to pull away when he snatched it back and enveloped it in his grasp.
He didn't look at you as you stared at him, nor when he suddenly squeezed your fingers. "Let's get you someplace dry."
Without waiting for a reply, he rested the handle of his umbrella against his shoulder and eased you into his arms so your cheek was tucked against the smooth curve of his armor. "Papyrus?" you softly questioned, and there was a breath of a pause before he regarded you with a tense smile.
"IT'LL BE OKAY, CRANE!" He assured you before hefting you up. The waterproof canopy enveloped the both of you like the head of a mushroom, and as he looked down at your bedraggled form nestled in his arms, he quietly repeated it once more. "It'll be okay."
You were… quite confused. Why was Papyrus acting like this? It was rare that someone's motivations completely eluded your grasp, at least when you cared enough to give it thought. You were an oracle; you reflected the truth back to those who came seeking your aid. Did you not understand because your own reflection baffled you?
It made sense, you supposed. The true meaning of your existence was your ultimate blind spot; it was the one thing you could never comprehend.
He carried you from that empty, drenched place, stealing quick little glances at you as he squelched through the wet grass. The tension in his expression never quite left, though he had forced in back with his aggressively determined cheer. You realized, looking up at him, that he was smiling now for your own benefit. Something twisted in you.
"...You don't have to," you said, responding to his earlier assertion. "I'm fine. I'm not bothered by the weather."
His grip on you tightened. "WHY IS THAT?"
"Well…" You rubbed a thumb across the smooth plastic cradled in your fingers. "When you're asleep, it doesn't matter what's happening around you."
He kept his gaze on the path ahead. "THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT."
"Then you should know that it's fine. You don't have to be sorry, nor should you feel any guilt."
He went silent, but you knew the manner of someone preparing a speech or, perhaps, a tale of something quite important. You awaited it patiently.
"One day, my brother gave up," Papyrus began, the volume of the drizzle just about level with his voice. "And I didn't notice it at all. He was just so amazing — gifted, they called him. Everything was effortless for him, except things like cooking. And, well. Cleaning. And writing papers for Mrs. Bunhilde's literature class. (He got scolded about that a lot.) If he liked it, he excelled, and if he didn't… he didn't even bother trying. That's the kind of guy he was."
When he flicked his gaze down, shame fringed the edge of his smile. "As a kid, there wasn't a lot I could do well. I felt like the stupid, disappointing brother because I wasn't good at science, or math, or puzzles. No matter how hard I tried — and I tried really, really hard — it didn't really work out for me. I thought Sans had it all, so when he stopped doing the things he liked — reading, inventing, going to work… he even wanted to move away from the city! I just didn't understand. It was so easy for him, he didn't even have to try, so could possibly be holding him back? Yet all he wanted to do was sleep and make stupid jokes."
He adjusted his grip on you, and you shifted so the top of your head was tucked against his neck. He bumped his forehead against your sopping wet hat before continuing.
"I realized my mistake the day Sans didn't come home for dinner. The afternoon snow had turned into a full-on blizzard, so of course I was worried, and I spent hours checking sentry station after sentry station, tromping through the storm until I looked like a snowman. A Snow-Papyrus, even! Not that there's anything wrong with that," he added mildly, an audible smile in his voice. "But I'm happy with being a very handsome skeleton."
Had the circumstances been different, you might have interjected to agree.
"When I finally found Sans, asleep face-first in the snow, I was furious. I went on and on about how irresponsible he was, how he was the worst big brother in the world and that he'd worried me sick, but when I picked him up to shake all the snow from his bones, he said…" Papyrus cleared his throat before doing a shockingly good impression of Sans. "you didn't have to worry about me Pap, it's snow problem. i just decided to take a nice nap."
Pained from the effort, Papyrus let out a put-upon sigh. "Despite his jokes, he was shivering; I could feel the rattling in his bones. Why hadn't he just come home? It was then that I realized that my brother wasn't a very honest guy. He didn't have the energy to do anything, and my jealousy had blinded me to his pain. I… never figured out what had really happened to him, or why he stopped wanting to try. But I knew one thing, without question."
(Something sharp prickled on the back of your neck, a sudden sensation of wait, shouldn't the reason be obvious? But it slipped away like water through your fingers, leaving only a tingle fading behind your eyes.)
"What Sans really needed was a cool dude in his life: a happy, supportive brother who could beg mad at his awful puns and drag him out of bed. It made him feel normal again, me forcing him to tutor me in puzzle-crafting, and not to toot my own trumpet, but I'm pretty good at it now." There was a particularly amused gleam to his voice at that, before it softened once more. "Despite things not being okay, I know that I brought him happiness."
His boots clopped against the sidewalk before stopping, and he adjusted you so he could look clearly down at your face. "You're a lot like my brother, Crane. The more I speak with you, the more I realize that, and seeing you out there in the rain? It reminded me that I need to be more vigilant. I'm so sorry. I should have come for you the moment the weather got bad, because deep down I knew you'd let yourself get cold and wet and think it was fine. I can't let myself be complacent like I used to be, because I know you're not okay and I want to be here for you in whatever way I can."
In that long moment where you stared up at the exceeding gentleness of his smile, you felt something both stomach-churningly strange and achingly familiar. Guilt. Your fingers tightened, and you squirmed in his grip. "Papyrus, you… shouldn't. I'm — I'm different. This sort of thing is for for me, truly. To fix me would be an impossible quest, something only possible in those old stories you like telling me."
At that, Papyrus scoffed. "You're not a broken object that needs fixing, Crane! You're a person. And…" Brightly, he twirled you in his arms, water spraying off the umbrella and striking the pavement. "I don't know what made you give up either, but I'm absolutely positive that you deserve happiness! And just like Sans, I'll be here to help you find it.
"P-Papyrus, I — you — I cannot promise you that I'll ever truly be happy. Your support, your resolve, it might all come to nothing, so you shouldn't devote yourself to me like that, nor should you live to bring others joy. It might all be for naught, in the end."
Even still, his voice reverberated with quiet hope. "It's not about the ending, Crane. It's about the journey! Even if it always hurts for you, I want to be by your side, right now — in sorrow and in happiness — as we live our lives. And, heh, I've certainly found a great deal of happiness with you! You're a lot of fun to be around.
The unconquerable sincerity in his voice overwhelmed you. What argument could you make to that? What could you even say? You weren't used to this feeling, not in the slightest. Your worth was in your words; what would be left of you when you didn't have any at your disposal?
Looking at him, and his red scarf set against the grey of the world, only one thing came to mind.
"Thank you, Papyrus, for being my friend."
A smile broke across his face, and within it, there was not a single lie. It was a smile to cure pain, to remind himself and everyone who was blessed enough to witness it that there were beautiful things still left in the world.
"YOU'RE WELCOME, CRANE! I AM ALSO THANKFUL THAT YOU ARE MY FRIEND! I'M A PRETTY LUCKY GUY."
How could he do that, look at you like every part was worth something, yet never — not once! — want to know his future? For him, your abilities didn't have to justify your personality. You were neither an oddity behind a glass wall or a strange creature in a cage, disconnected from the world and ill-suited to be a part of it. A strange, warm feeling filled your chest, and you had to look down at your hands as you fidgeted. "Papyrus, I... Do you..."
Fiddle, fiddle. "...If you ever become tired of me, please do not feel guilty, like you have some sort of obligation to me."
Papyrus let out a huff of air - not annoyed or distressed, but vaguely fond. "IT'S OKAY, CRANE. I'VE LEARNED A LOT ABOUT FRIENDSHIP EVER SINCE COMING TO THE SURFACE. PEOPLE GET CLOSE, THEN SOMETIMES THEY DRIFT APART… THAT'S JUST LIFE. IT'S SO BUSY! BUT RIGHT NOW? SPENDING TIME WITH YOU MAKES ME SO VERY HAPPY, SO DON'T WORRY ABOUT ALL OF THAT. IT'S THE PRESENT THAT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT!"
A strange thing to say to someone like you... but to be honest, you found yourself soothed as Papyrus carried you to his home and your worries stymied.
Of course, Papyrus had neglected to mention that he couldn't imagine getting tired of your smile, nor that he woke up every day excited to see you, but that all seemed a bit too forward for now.