"What do you mean, you're tired?"

Why did Papyrus even say that? Now he had to explain. ...Okay.

He looked down. "Well, I didn't want to have to do this at all, but, do you ever feel... you know..." Papyrus couldn't stall, or change the subject, or anything. With a sigh he continued speaking. "I'm tired. I'm really, really tired. And not because I didn't sleep. Didn't I sleep a long time yesterday?"

Sans nodded. "Yeah, 5 hours, which actually isn't that much, but it's more than your normal 2. You know, it is possible you didn't get enough sleep."

"Well, yeah, but that's not what I meant. I meant..." His eyes closed. "I can't. I can't do this."

Somehow, Sans frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Papyrus thought of how to describe his predicament. "I just... can't. I can't do anything. I-"

Sans put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Papyrus, just spit it out."

With a deep breath and a choked sob, Papyrus did. "Well..." he was still looking at the bed. "I know self-diagnoses are bad and all, but..."

"But?"

"I-I think I have depression. O-okay, can you leave now?"