"But Papyrus, you don't even have a stomach!"

"NO, BUT I HAVE STANDARDS!"

Your brother's booming voice carries far among the houses of Snowdin, mingling with Undyne's laughter. The artificial dusk slowly settles over the village, covering everything with a blanket of semi-darkness, softening the forms, muffling the noises. Warm yellow light pours from the windows of the residents' homes, painting sparkling patterns onto the snow, framed by deep blue shadows. It's a peaceful sight, one you haven't seen in a long time, one you've grown unfamiliar by now. It's almost unsettling, in a way. It's like nothing has ever happened to turn your lives upside down. It's like all the horror you've been through was just a nightmare, fleeting and insignificant, chased away by the first rays of dawn.

But it still makes you feel something that's suspiciously close to comfort.

You peek out from behind the corner of your small lab where you've hidden behind so you wouldn't be seen by Papyrus. After you parted ways with the children, you decided to drop by your house to change your clothes. You're still unnerved by Frisk's latest display of weakness, and truth be told, you're more than a little sick of the sight of your room, but your socks are in a pretty sorry shape by now, and it'd do you no good to wander around with half a pound of mud clinging to your feet.

You don't have to wait for long. Papyrus offers Undyne a trip to his toolshed under his expert guidance, wanting to show off all the special human-capturing features he's been working on, and the fish monster obviously doesn't have the heart to refuse his offer. As soon as the door shuts behind them, you teleport to your room. You fully intend to spend as little time at your house - you don't have the audacity to call it 'home' anymore - as possible, but when you arrive, the sight in front of you stops you dead in your tracks.

Instead of the usual greasy ball of assorted laundry shoved into one corner, your mattress is covered with a double layer of pristine white sheets under a thick, impeccably arranged duvet, the picture completed by a fluffed-up pillow.

He made your bed.

He wanted you to come home, and cooked you a special meal, and made your bed. You feel your smile waver, a torrent of emotions assaulting your soul all at once.

Papyrus...

You know you shouldn't stay here as he can return any minute, possibly with Undyne in tow. But the bed looks so, so comfy, so indulgingly plush and warm, merely looking at it makes you want to throw yourself down onto it and catch some shut-eye. And if there's anything you can't resist, it's temptation.

Just two minutes. Two minutes won't hurt.

You pull off your dirty socks, lock the door carefully and lie down on top of the duvet. It's even comfier than you expected. You get into a comfortable position, your head half buried in the soft pillow, enjoying the smell of clean linen, enjoying the utter bliss of not having to stand upright for a change. Slowly, gradually, your entire body goes pleasantly limp, weariness washing over you, beckoning you to give into it.

Nice. Warm. Home.

You're the coolest, bro.

And with that, before you could go through your mental list of all the completely valid reasons why you should absolutely stay awake at all costs, you're fast asleep.

You're wandering in Snowdin Forest, an unnatural silence reigning under the canopy. Nothing moves, nothing stirs. You're alone. Your eye-lights burn red and purple, the hunger in your soul fiercer than ever. It fills you with desperation.

You know who you are looking for.

The footprints are muddled and uneven, with bits of snow splattered around here and there, like he was in a hurry. (He probably was. He probably didn't know he was already too late.) You feel like dashing after him, grabbing him, tearing him apart, destroying him just like you did with everyone else. Killing him as fast as possible just to get it over with, just to finally end it all. Nevertheless, you keep your pace steady and relaxed. There's no need to rush. There will be time for everything.

He will be the last one.

There he is, right at the collapsed gate leading to the ruins, his boots smudgy with slush and dust, his scarf hanging limply off his shoulders. Waiting for you. Hoping that despite everything, you still have a shred of mercy left in you. When you step out of from the trees, snapping a thick branch just for fun, he gasps, flinching for a moment, but steels himself and stays there, rooted to the spot.

Good.

"Brother…"

Your grin is wide, so wide, so hollow, like a predator's sneer.

"hey, papyrus."

"Wh… what did you do?"

"nothing of your concern," you shrug. "just be a good little bro and don't move. okay?"

He takes a small step forward, even though his arms are shaking. He's trying to smile, to encourage you, to reassure you that he's still there for you no matter what.

"Sans… please let me help you..."

*Papyrus is sparing you.

You feel resentment and a smidgen of grief stir inside you, the last shadows of your past self, the last remnants of your long-gone sanity.

"you can't help me."

"It's okay, brother," he says, keeping his voice as soothing as he can. "I know you're hurting. I know you've been through a lot of painful things. And I know… I know you can make it all better if you put your mind to it and try really hard!"

You snicker at the absurdity of his statement, your smile crooked and uneven, your voice a choked whimper. Papyrus' face falls, tears welling up in his eyesockets.

"Sans… please… It's going to be alright…"

Enough.

You raise your left hand, taking your first turn without any further ado. He cries out in pain as his soul, now a dark blue, is violently yanked sideways, nearly getting torn out of his ribcage, and the sound slices through your own soul like a steel blade, cutting it to shreds, numb, unfeeling. Deep down, you've been hoping that there is still a way for you to stop this horror. That even after everything you did, you're still incapable of hurting him.

You were wrong.

Isn't it hysterical?

The motions are almost automatic by now. Bones and blasters and manipulating gravity, all the while dodging your opponent's attacks effortlessly. Except this time, the attacks never come. It's almost frustrating, in a way. It would be easier to have something to focus on. Just to keep the boredom away. Just to be able to avoid thinking about what you're doing. If there's anything you mustn't do, it's thinking.

Fight, you fucking moron. Fight me.

FIGHT ME.

But you know the drill by now. He never fought back. He let himself be killed, again and again, the pathetic fool he is. He never realized that his sacrifice was invariably in vain. He never realized that in this world, it's kill or be killed. He's always been the stupid one.

He's always been the better one.

A blaster hits him squarely in the chest and he falls prone, a huge scorched hole gaping in his battle body. He tries to scramble up to his feet, only to get pushed back by your blue magic, forcing him to the ground once again. He's heaving and panting, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from despair, but he reaches out to you with one hand, begging.

"Sans, please, stop! I know you're hurting, but we can -"

"it's okay, papyrus," you shush him, your voice calmer than ever. "it's gonna be over soon. it's okay."

He falls silent for a second, catching his breath, and you check his HP. There's not much left. You've been efficient as always.

"Brother, please... we can talk this out, I - Aah!"

You have never felt this kind of dull, distant agony before. You have never felt so alone before. And you don't stop. You're too far gone for that. You have to finish the job. You know you can do it. And because you can, you must.

You must.

You raise your hand, summoning a sharp-tipped bone, preparing for your last kill.

"I believe in y-"

You cut him short. The bone pierces his torso, going right through his soul that pounds wildly in his chest, like it's trying to escape it, to get close to you, to reach you in a last, desperate attempt. A tremble courses through his spine as his body crumples into the snow like a ragdoll. He doesn't take his next turn. He's defeated.

"S-sans… it's alright… I know it's all going to be alright!"

He closes his eyesockets exhaustedly, still trying to keep his smile.

"You can do a little better, even if you don't think so!"

Darkness falls before your eyes, veiling the sight in front of you.

"I… I promise…"

You never made promises.

You could never keep them anyway.

Silence.

When you finally look up, you see nothing but the charred remains of your brother's once-orange scarf lying in the snow. Dust swirls in the air in swiftly changing patterns, a few of the specks landing on your jacket. You stare at them blankly. It's his dust.

It's Papyrus' dust.

Papyrus is dead. He is dead. You killed him.

You failed the last test, the only one you should have passed no matter what.

He is dead.

You repeat the words to yourself, trying to make yourself feel something, anything, and you can't. It's all meaningless. It's all pointless. Just like it's always been.

So you laugh instead.

It starts as a near-inaudible wheeze, a dull ache in your chest, your soul pounding in your earholes so loudly that you can't even hear yourself at first - but soon it gets louder, more erratic, shaking your torso as it ebbs and flows, coming in waves as you bury your hands deep in the snow, just to feel something physical, something real. Then it breaks through your smile, that fake, plastered, horrible smile, as empty as everything has become, and it grows stronger, harsher, darker, yet darker, until you're struggling to breathe, until you can't bear it anymore, and you're still laughing, you can't stop, it's the only thing you have left. You fall on your elbows, burying your face in the snow, clawing at your skull with your phalanges, and howl with laughter.

I killed him.

I killed my own brother.

I killed him because I wanted to do so, and I would kill him again.

Isn't it hilarious?

Isn't it the best prank in the world? The one that really, truly shows what I'm made of?

Laugh, then.

Laugh, you murderer.

LAUGH DAMMIT -

"SANS…"

You jolt up, still heaving from laughter, your breath coming in heavy puffs, pluming in the chilly air, and your eye-lights nearly disappear in dread.

The shadowy figure floating above you shivers and flickers like candle-flame, his tattered scarf billowing wildly, his gloves bunched into fists, his eyes burning red-hot with hatred, and when he speaks, his voice fills your entire world.

"YOU KILLED ME, BROTHER."

He cannot be back.

"I HATE YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE."

He never hated you, this cannot be happening, he's lying, he's gone forever, this is just a bad dream -

"I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU."

You whimper and shuffle back in the snow on your knees, terrified, helpless, trying to escape, and he follows you, his face a mask of disgust.

"SANS..."

I don't want to -

"SANS!"

PLEASE -

"SANS, WAKE UP!"

You cry out and spring up, only to stumble back on your knees from weakness, your left eye burning brightly, magic pulsing through your bones, ready to hurt anyone who gets close to you, and your only thought is to chase him away, to get rid of this shadow forever, and before you can catch yourself, you attack him.

Papyrus blocks.

You blink, disoriented, your pupils wandering hesitantly to his face. It's not the shadow anymore. It's your brother, in bone and marrow, very much alive. The whiteness is not the snow around you, but the soft mounds of the duvet. Relief washes over you, only to get immediately replaced by panic.

No.

You need to get out of here. You need to flee. You can't see him, and he can't see you. You must take a shortcut, you just need for him to take his turn -

"NO."

Papyrus indeed takes his turn, but instead of using his usual dark blue magic, a glowing spear materializes in his hand, and when he swipes it over your soul, you realize that it's... green?

Your brother's jawbone drops, his eyesockets widening to the size of saucers - he's apparently as surprised as you are at his display of skill.

"I… I DID IT!" He clears his throat. "I MEAN, I KNEW I COULD DO IT, OF COURSE! NO DOUBTS ABOUT IT WHATSOEVER!" He turns to you and switches to his most stentorian voice, his scarf billowing proudly. "YOU WON'T ESCAPE ME THIS TIME, BROTHER, TRY AS YOU MIGHT!"

For a second, you find yourself speechless. He actually managed to make you stay. In another timeline, you'd probably have felt proud of him. In this one, you just feel the overwhelming need to disappear. It's your turn already, but you hesitate, uncertain of what to do. There's no way that you can reconcile with him. Not anymore.

"papyrus - please let me go," you say finally, feeling helpless. "please just let me do what i need to do, okay?"

"NO, SANS. NOT UNTIL I'M FINISHED WITH WHAT UNDYNE TOLD ME TO DO! WHICH IS KNOCKING SOME SENSE INTO YOU!"

Taking his turn again, he sends a series of bone attacks your way, and you dodge without thinking just as he narrowly avoids your soul without thinking. You give up your turn, not knowing what to say to him, your thoughts racing, trying to remember how many turns Undyne's green attacks last, and if Papyrus is able to handle them as effectively as she does.

"THOUGH SHE WAS PROBABLY TALKING ABOUT HOW HEROICALLY YOU PROTECTED THE HUMAN AGAINST HER ATTACKS! AND HOW YOU TOTALLY DISOBEYED HER ORDERS AND THUS BECAME A SABOTEUR AND AN OUTLAW!"

Just great.

"AND HOW SHE WOULD CAPTURE YOU HERSELF, BUT SHE HAS SOME OTHER IMPORTANT BUSINESS TO SEE TO THAT MOST CERTAINLY DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH GOING ON A DATE WITH DR. ALPHYS! SO SHE LENT ME THIS SPEAR, YOU SEE! I MUST ADMIT, IT MAKES IT MUCH EASIER TO CAPTURE YOU! OR ANYONE ELSE, FOR THAT MATTER."

He stops for a moment and lifts up an index finger, his expression triumphant.

"SO! I WAS THINKING ABOUT CAPTURING YOU FIRST, WHICH IS A GREAT IDEA IF I SAY SO MYSELF, BUT THEN I THOUGHT MAYBE I SHOULD MAKE FRIENDS WITH YOU INSTEAD, AND THEN I REALIZED WE ARE ALREADY FRIENDS, SO I CAN CAPTURE YOU ALL I WANT! AND I'M GONNA DO JUST THAT! AND THEN… THEN WE'RE GONNA TALK ABOUT WHATEVER IS MAKING YOU SO SAD AND WITHDRAWN!"

Damn.

You mustn't attack him. You mustn't act. You mustn't do anything to him, or with him, you mustn't even listen to him. You must find a way to flee before you - before you give in, you realize.

I want to -

You dodge a light blue bone coming your way, and in your next turn, you realize that your soul is back to red. You can go. You must go.

I must.

You don't go. You stay rooted to the spot, your hands trembling, every fiber of your being on edge, fully intent on fleeing, and you don't go.

"SANS?"

You close your eyesockets, trying to block out his voice. He can't be serious. And even if he is, you cannot accept his mercy.

I want to -

"IT'S OKAY, SANS. I'M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU. I JUST WANT TO TALK."

No. You can't. You can't do this.

"BROTHER."

You can't do this to me, you can't make me care about you again, leave me alone, leave me ALONE -

You attack.

You see the bones in slow motion, flying toward him and making contact, wounding his arm, sending a handful of dust everywhere. He flinches, letting out a hiss of pain, but stays upright, undeterred. You lift a hand to teleport, and you realize it's too late. You have already spent your turn. A white blur fills your vision as a long bone tears through the air, aimed squarely at your chest – and then stops abruptly, a hair's width from your soul.

"CAPTURED YOU!"

For a while, the only sound in the room is your panting as you try to catch your breath. Your magic has long fizzled out, leaving only exhaustion behind. The bone hovers over your soul, not touching it, but not going away either. You can practically feel your brother's gaze resting on you, but you don't dare to look up at him. You don't dare to say anything. You don't deserve him. You never deserved him.

"SANS. PLEASE STAY."

I hurt you.

"I'M LETTING YOU GO NOW," Papryus carries on. "IF… IF YOU REALLY WANT TO LEAVE, YOU ARE FREE TO DO SO."

And if I stay, I will hurt you again.

"BUT… IT WOULD MEAN A LOT TO ME IF YOU STAYED."

Your brother's tone is soft and welcoming. It sounds like everything you have lost.

I want to -

It sounds like home.

I… I want to -

It sounds like love.

- I want to stay.

And with that, you know, with as much certainty as you've ever had about anything - you know that you cannot deny him anymore.

"okay."

Your voice is so faint, you're not even sure Papyrus can hear you. But he must have heard you since slowly, cautiously, like he's trying not to scare you away, he releases your soul, withdrawing his magic. The battle is over. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and finally look up at him. His eyes meet yours, a timid smile on his face.

"...ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"...yeah."

After a moment of hesitation, he steps a little closer and takes a critical look at you, searching for any injuries, then nods, satisfied. You glance awkwardly at the narrow wound on his arm where you shot him. His gaze follows yours, and he grins from ear to ear, waving a gloved hand.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT! A FEW SPOONFULS OF MY NUTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI, AND I'LL BE AS GOOD AS NEW! EVEN BETTER, IF THAT'S POSSIBLE!"

You let out a weak huff of laughter. You still don't know how to feel, what to say. So you decide to ask the obvious.

"um… how did you unlock the door?"

"OH! I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS LOCKED! I CLIMBED IN THROUGH THE WINDOW SO I COULD SNEAK UP ON YOU!" He puffs out his chest, beaming at you. "YOU SEE, THAT BED WAS A MASTERFULLY DESIGNED BROTHER-CATCHING TRAP! LITTLE DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU WERE WALKING RIGHT INTO IT!"

"never saw it coming," you say with a slight grin.

"WELL, THEN! I'M GLAD THE SITUATION DIDN'T ESCALATE ANY FURTHER! AND NOW, IT'S TIME FOR YOUR SURPRISE!"

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

"surprise?"

"OH! I DIDN'T TELL YOU, DID I? I MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN IN ALL THE EXCITEMENT! COME DOWN AND YOU'LL SEE! BUT NOT RIGHT NOW! I MUST PREPARE FIRST! I'LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN YOU CAN COME!"

He darts to the doorway, then turns back, bony brows furrowed disapprovingly.

"AND PUT ON SOME SOCKS, SANS. YOU'LL CATCH A COLD."

"will do."

He slams the door with his usual vehemence, taking the stairs downward two at a time. You take a clean pair of socks from your drawer and put them on in a daze. You listen to Papyrus rummaging around in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and the fridge, taking out what must be cutlery, cursing at the annoying dog that has stolen his bone attacks again. Having put on your slippers, you sit down on the mattress, staring at the floor, trying to get a grasp on what just happened.

There's no point in fooling yourself. You know something has changed since Frisk reset for the first time. Quite a bit, in fact. Thing is though, you don't know how to feel about any of it. You're not sure if you're a fan of it.

It all used to be so easy.

No matter how much willpower it took on your side, killing everyone, fighting them and watching them succumb to your power - it was easier than this. This is painful, and confusing, and complicated. And if there's one thing you don't want to deal with right now - or ever, for that matter - it's complicated feelings.

Why can you still feel - after all you've been through? After all you've done?

Why do you still try to hang on to your life, even after you wasted it all, again and again?

Why did you decide to stay?

"SANS! YOU CAN COME DOWN NOW!"

Your brother's voice drags you back to the present, but, to your astonishment, you don't mind it at all. It shouldn't make you feel so comfortable and safe as it does.

But you couldn't care less right now.

"JUST MAKE SURE YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES! BUT NOT THAT TIGHTLY THAT YOU TRIP UP OR ANYTHING! BUT THEN YOU'LL PROBABLY SEE THE SURPRISE WAY AHEAD OF TIME! WAIT, I KNOW WHAT TO DO! STAY THERE! DON'T MOVE! NYEH HEH HEH!"

Papyrus bursts into the room, a piece of fabric in his hand that you recognize as his old comfort blanket. He blindfolds you, and, after some consideration, ultimately decides to just carry you on his back for simplicity's sake, swiping aside your half-hearted protests. He lifts you up like it's nothing, and you nearly flinch at the sudden closeness. He gallops down the stairs, taking a turn for the kitchen, and pushes you down on a chair next to the breakfast table. You immediately register the unmistakable - and mouth-watering - smell of grease. You feel your brother fiddle with the knot for a second, and when the blindfold's finally lifted, you're presented with the most wonderful sight in the Underground.

A huge pile of fries, crispy and golden, lies heaped on the largest plate you have in your home. The mound is covered in big white fluffs of whipped cream and rivulets of ketchup, with a shiny red cherry sitting neatly on top. It's a thing of beauty. You can't help but stare at it, slack-jawed from awe. Papyrus grins at you, his hands clasped together.

"NYEH HEH HEH! IMPRESSED?"

You can't even utter a word, just nod slowly, your pupils still fixated on the miracle in front of you.

"I WAS JUST PASSING BY GRILLBY'S WHEN I HAD THE BEST IDEA EVER! I KNEW YOU LIKED FRIES AND KETCHUP AND SWEETS AND ALL THAT HORRIBLE JUNK FOOD STUFF THAT'S REALLY BAD FOR YOU, BUT IF YOU COMBINE TWO UNHEALTHY THINGS, THEY MUST NEUTRALIZE EACH OTHER, RIGHT? SO I COMBINED NOT TWO, BUT THREE OF THEM, WHICH MEANS THEY ARE EXTRA HEALTHY!"

"absolutely," you say, hypnotized.

"WELL, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BROTHER? DIG IN! IN THE MEANTIME, I'M GONNA TELL YOU ABOUT MY ENDEAVORS IN YOUR ABSENCE! YOU MUST BE BURNING WITH CURIOSITY BY NOW!"

You don't need to be told twice. You grab the fork lying on the carefully folded napkin at your elbow, skewer a bunch of cream-covered fries, and shove them in your mouth. The taste is indescribable. But mostly, it's like fries and whipped cream and ketchup combined, which is to say, heavenly. You truly didn't know what you've been missing out on until now.

Papyrus sits across from you, a plate of spaghetti in front of him, and tells you all about his day between bites, just like he does every evening (even when you spent the greater part of the day together - just in case you forget about something important). He starts with his deadly and challenging encounter with the ferocious human who, of course, stood no chance against his combat expertise and dashing good looks. He goes into great detail about their adventures together after he graciously offered the human to be their bodyguard for their time in the Underground - and, probably on purpose, he doesn't say a word about the incident that happened between you in the sea-grass room. No matter why he omitted this detail, along with his unanswered text messages, you're grateful for his tact. Not that he doesn't have anything else to talk about. This has probably been the best day of his life.

Or rather it would have been - if you hadn't ruined it.

"UNDYNE AND THE HUMAN ARE NOW BEST FRIENDS! AND IT'S ALL THANKS TO MY CAREFULLY EXECUTED MASTER PLAN! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"hey, i knew you could do it," you grin at him, mouth full of fries. Papyrus' face lights up at the praise; after a moment though, he averts his gaze and idly scratches the tablecloth with one phalange, looking pensive.

"IT'S NOT... WELL, IT'S MAYBE NOT THAT EASY BEING FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE AS ONE MIGHT THINK."

"if anyone could pull it off, it's you, bro," you say with a wink, trying to lift his spirits. He nods, but there's obviously still something on his mind. You swallow the last bite and put your fork down, all your attention on him.

"paps?"

"SANS… UM..." He fidgets with his scarf. "WHAT I WANTED TO SAY IS…"

Oh no.

You know this was coming, preferably later rather than sooner. But here it is. You brace yourself, trying to appear calm. It'd do no good to make it even harder for him.

"yeah?"

His voice is small, sad, and he avoids your pupils.

"IT'S OKAY IF YOU DON'T WANT TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN BOTHERING YOU, BROTHER. I KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS."

Your face falls. He knows how much you're keeping from him. How much you've been shutting him out. He has known all along.

"I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU'RE PROPERLY TAKEN CARE OF. THAT… YOU'RE NOT HURTING IN ANY WAY."

He clears his throat and gets up from his seat, standing in front of you, extending his hands.

"SO PLEASE, IF YOU CAN… PLEASE JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND WON'T GET HURT."

You are the one who was hurt by me.

You never raised a hand against me, and I hurt you more that you could ever imagine.

"OKAY?"

Mustering all the strength you have, you reach out to your brother and very gently, very carefully take his hands in yours.

"it's alright, papyrus. i'm… i'm gonna be okay. feeling better already. those fries were more than oil-right-"

Whump!

You gasp. Once again, after such a long, long time, you find yourself in his embrace. His thin arms squeeze you close to his chest, like he never wants to let go, like he wants to finally, finally make you love yourself as much as he does. You can faintly feel his soul pulsing in his ribcage, gentle, kind, full of hope.

This isn't painful. This isn't confusing. This is the simplest, easiest thing in the world. He makes it so, just like he always does.

So you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his battle body, your eyesockets falling shut, and you let him hold you.

So close.

So far.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, half hoping that Papyrus doesn't hear it.

"DON'T MENTION IT, DEAR BR - WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR?"

"for hurting you," you mumble, eyesockets still closed.

He hesitates for a moment.

"IT WAS NOTHING, SANS. IT'S ALL GONE NOW, SEE? I TOLD YOU MY SPAGHETTI IS THE ULTIMATE MEDICINE!" His voice softens. "AND… AND IF YOU MEAN HURTING ME BY HURTING YOURSELF, YOU DON'T NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR THAT. I'M JUST SAD THAT YOU WON'T LET ME HELP YOU."

Can't he feel it?

You let him go, releasing his hands, and look up at him. He smiles at you reassuringly, and for a moment, the iron bands around your soul loosen a little, making you feel dizzy with freedom, and before you could catch yourself, you speak.

"papyrus… i have… i have done something i…"

No.

You stop mid-sentence, your hands dropping to your side.

Just what were you thinking?

You didn't think for a moment that you can come clean to him, now did you?

You didn't think that you can burden him with this?

You selfish bastard.

"SANS?"

You inhale and grab the backrest of the chair, forcing a faint smile.

"i've done something stupid, that's all. but it's… kinda personal."

Papyrus takes a small step back so he can see your face better.

"MAYBE - MAYBE IF YOU TOLD ME, WE COULD FIND A SOLUTION TO IT?"

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can never tell you.

But I must punish myself for the sins I committed.

"i must... do something first. and after that, i'm gonna tell you everything, okay?"

Of course, you won't be around by then.

...Will I?

But reassuring him is the least you could do now.

Hearing your not-quite-promise, Papyrus nods, relieved, his grin radiating trust. Feeling more wretched than ever, you get up and wipe the crumbs off your shorts. He lifts an eyebrow.

"WAIT… ARE YOU LEAVING RIGHT NOW? IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! AREN'T YOU GOING TO TAKE A NAP OR TWO OR THREE FIRST?"

"there's some stuff i need to take care of." You wipe your mouth with one hand. "'sides, after a dinner like this, i feel more energized than a whole flock of temmies. it was really cherry-table of you to treat me like this."

"UGH! SANS! THAT WAS DISGRACEFUL! YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST WARNED ME!"

"too late."

"SO… WHEN ARE YOU COMING BACK?"

"i… don't know," you shrug awkwardly. "i'll… let you know, okay? text you and all."

"OKAY," he nods, trying to look confident. He gives you a small, energetic wave and sets out to gather the dirty dishes. Taking one last look at his back, you head to the door. It's time to get to work.

"SANS!"

You turn back immediately.

"yeah?"

Dish in hand, Papyrus averts his gaze, staring at the floor for a moment, then looks you straight in the eye.

"YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT - THAT EVEN IF YOU POSSIBLY MAYBE MIGHT HAVE HURT ME BY ACCIDENT… OR… OR FOR SOME OTHER REASON... I'M SURE WE CAN WORK IT OUT TOGETHER. OKAY?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

"I BELIEVE IN YOU, BROTHER."

You smile at him, and even though you say nothing, he still understands.

"Thank you."

You close the door behind you and set out into the darkness, the night around you calm and quiet, the only sound the crunching of the snow under your slippers. You take a deep, refreshing breath of the crisp air, and when you rest your gaze on the familiar outline of rooftops and pine trees, you almost feel like you belong here. For a moment, you're seriously tempted to bolt back to your house, throw yourself down onto the couch at your brother's side, grab a beer and watch a cheesy space movie together, all the while listening eagerly to his commentary about how it would be the coolest thing ever to fight humans with bone-shaped laser swords, or sword-shaped laser bones, or both of them combined, and forget about Frisk and Chara and Flowey for just one single evening.

You can't.

You turn away from the light coming from your windows. It's alright. You can do this. First of all, you must check on the save points on the upper levels of Hotland to see if any of them are still functional. You know that the elevators are currently -

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

Your pupils disappear in horror when you realize what just happened.

They reset.