The Great Papyrus considered himself an extremely detailed individual.
Subtle nuances were, in fact, something he paid immense attention to. Dare he say, specialized in; Any and all of his puzzles and traps testified to this fact excellently! As did his cuisine; Which was why it was widespreadly adored, of course. Each recipe measured, boiled and presented superbly, all as part of the intricate creative process, followed precisely to a T for everyone's dining pleasure!
Or... perhaps, on the odd occasion his and Undyne's cooking lessons got out of hand, followed to a U. Or a V.
Or possibly several letters beyond that.
...All part of the detailed process! Which Papyrus took great pride in!
It wasn't a trait known to the general public, of course. Papyrus was aware of that fact. He was well-aware that certain monsters underestimated him quite often, and that words such as 'detailed' or 'observant' or even 'analytical' were not words generally associated with his image. He accepted a long time ago that many monsters simply are not naturally geared to see aspects his greatness at first glance.
That was no issue for him, of course; For he was also a patient and tenacious individual! There was no plight hard work could not mend, and that was simply another one of them!
All of this being said...
Papyrus' attention to detail extended much beyond simply his own rich yet sorely overlooked inner complexities, puzzles and traps to catch a human, or what was being served for dinner that night.
His attention to detail also extended, perhaps most of all, to those around him.
If he was hanging out with Undyne and she was having a more difficult time than strictly warranted with calling Alphys to talk about the weather, Papyrus notices. If he happens to cross paths with the dogi for a minute on patrol, and they are having a more stressful work day than normal, Papyrus notices.
And if something was off about Sans' posture, the light or lack thereof in his eyes...
Or the way he hardly spoke a word this week unless directly spoken to...
And even when he does speak his tone is 'off,' somehow, not quite 'off' in the sense that there was something specific about it Papyrus could call him out on, but 'off' in the weird, vague sense that simply gives him the impression something was amiss...
Papyrus notices.
It's become a bit harder to get Sans out of bed in the recent week or so. (Harder than usual that is, because even on a good day it was a task comparable to pulling teeth.) A few days ago he even had to forcefully drag his brother out of his poor-excuse for a bed (that dreaded mattress really needed to be washed properly, or at least given some sheets) and all the way to his station after he had skipped breakfast in favor of snoozing the morning away.
Other than a brief moment of confusion when he had awoken to the immediate sight of Papyrus sternly telling him off for being more irresponsible than usual, Sans showed very little obvious reaction or shame at this other than a quiet "heh, sorry bro, won't happen again" before staring off into oblivion.
And even as Papyrus continued speaking, exasperatedly telling Sans before he rushed off that he would try to drop off leftovers from breakfast the moment he finished his early-morning patrol so that he wouldn't starve, his brother blatantly paid zero attention to what was being said and only responded with an even more poorly-thought-out than usual pun (Which wasn't even remotely related to anything he'd said either! It was just some random bone pun he'd already used twenty million times!) and a half-hearted "see ya pap, be careful out there."
Furthermore, while Sans has always been a relatively quiet type, this trait of his has been oddly more pronounced as of late. 'Pronounced' that is, in that he doesn't much speak at all unless directly spoken to, and he only utters the bare minimum, if that, required of him by the other party in the conversation.
Which was oftentimes Papyrus himself.
On the surface, it was not conclusive evidence something was amiss. Once again, Sans being quiet was nothing unusual. Papyrus carrying large portions of their conversations was the norm. Seeing that Sans was a lazybones, his refusal to wake up in the morning (or... perhaps failure to, looking back on his dazedly perplexed and marginally wide-eyed expression that one morning) although annoying, was also nothing unusual.
But Papyrus knew his brother.
And Papyrus also knew from experience that if he were to ask whether something was wrong, Sans would make some pun in horrid taste about his having 'thick skin' or that Papyrus should know by now nothing could 'rattle him,' which would grate on his nerves long enough for Sans to shrug and find some exit or detour to the conversation all while claiming there was nothing to worry about.
Then, perhaps on occasion, for a very tiny, and very brief moment... Papyrus would question his own judgement; Perhaps he was simply overanalyzing. As Sans has pointed out, he's done so in the past. Then, he would decide that's preposterous, he knew Sans well enough to tell if something was amiss or he was in a low mood! ...but he also knew Sans well enough to know he highly valued his privacy, it would be rude to press him on a matter he evidently did not wish to communicate about, not to mention fruitless.
But before he could make a decision on the matter, either Sans was gone or the conversation moves to a different topic and the exchange is soon forgotten.
Sans inexplicably arises from bed on time of his own accord the next morning, the day passes just as any normal day, and Papyrus either reluctantly decides he must have been being silly on that particular occasion after all, or if he wasn't then whatever the problem causing the mood was had passed.
Rinse and repeat the process once a month, once every other month or two, once a week for a few notable stints in the past, it varied.
Sometimes, though... such as when he had made good on his promise to deliver brunch that one morning, he will approach Sans at his station, when his brother seems to believe himself to be alone, and...
Judging by the disconcerting lack of light in his brother's eye-sockets, the low mood has evidently returned.
Setting down two bowls of dinosaur-egg oatmeal on the table for dinner, Papyrus heaved a heavy sigh and headed for the silverware drawer.
The matter of what to do about this reoccurring theme in the long-term eluded even a mind as great as his, as... very chagrined as he was to admit it. Which should not be the case; He was Sans' brother, not to mention The Great Papyrus! If anyone should be able to help, it should be him!
...Though it is aggravatingly difficult figuring out how to help someone who never tells you anything.
Aside each bowl he set down a spoon atop a napkin, thinking to himself while absent-mindedly calculating an equal distance between the utensil and the bowl on both sides of the table so that the dinner's presentation would be just so. Papyrus understood boundaries. If Sans didn't want to talk, then he simply would not talk, and Papyrus would never attempt to force him to.
He just... wished that his brother didn't have to be so secretive sometimes. It frustrated him!
(It worried him too.)
Speaking of his brother...
"SANS?" Papyrus yelled up upon deeming the dinner table set-up just so and exiting the kitchen, posture upright and arms crossed despite standing in the living room alone. "DINNER HAS BEEN EXPERTLY PREPARED ONCE AGAIN! COME DOWN FROM THAT SMELLY INTER-DIMENSIONAL PORTAL YOU CALL A ROOM, BEFORE YOUR OATMEAL GETS COLD!"
Papyrus stood with an expectant, self-assured grin, and waited for the muffled sound of slippers trudging across carpet above him. Waited for the click of a door unlocking and the creaking of it opening a moment later.
No such sounds came. The house was silent.
Papyrus' grin became less assured.
"SANS!"
Less expectant as well.
Not that he had been overwhelmingly expectant to begin with, admittedly, Sans actually had not come down for dinner in three days now. Granted, Papyrus typically found leftovers to have been nibbled on to varying degrees come morning whenever Sans skips dinner... even though that hadn't been the case yesterday morning, but...
"SANS, IF YOU DON'T COME DOWN SOON, THAT MEDDLING CANINE IS GOING TO SWOOP IN AND EAT YOUR FOOD!"
It wasn't just a bribe. That had been known to happen on occasion.
No response. Papyrus glanced up at the staircase with a frown. Either Sans was feeling particularly charitable with his food, or he was asleep. Surely he wouldn't be ignoring him-
CLANG! SPASH!
An eardrum-shattering racket rang out.
"NYEH?!"
Eye-sockets comically wide, Papyrus swiftly turns around to identify the source of the sudden racket, only to be face-to-face with what perhaps may have been his worst nightmare.
"Ruff, ruff!"
Said nightmare was wagging its tail at him, adorning dinosaur eggs on its head while sitting innocently in the midst of wasted oatmeal spilt all over the carpet.
"NYOOOOOOO! YOU FUR-RIDDEN FIEND...!" Papyrus cries, outraged at the mess that was the dinner he'd worked so hard on; His side of dinner, that is, while Sans' bowl of oatmeal of course conveniently remained untouched. "AND I JUST CLEANED THAT CARPET!" He gestured at said carpet, then back at the culprit of the mess accusingly. "HOW DO YOU KEEP BREAKING INTO OUR HOUSE?!"
The dog yipped happily, panting and licking up some oatmeal off the tip of its nose guiltlessly.
If there were veins in Papyrus' skull, they would have popped like balloons by now.
"HRGH...! CURSES!" He rages indignantly. Then, after a moment, he simply deflates with some small degree of bitterness. "I JINXED MYSELF SIMPLY MENTIONING YOU... I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU'D APPEAR."
Really, he should have. That meddlesome dog did have a habit of showing up just when he thought he'd gotten rid of it. Or shortly after he'd mentioned it in some fashion or sometimes even thought of it.
It was almost as if it had a disturbing sixth sense of sorts-
The dog, flinging oatmeal about freely, let out a loud yip as it bounded up off of the ruined carpet and sped straight past Papyrus, causing him to yelp in surprise and to quite nearly lose his footing.
Regaining his balance, he turned just in time to watch a white tail waving every which way and then disappearing up into the stairs.
"HEY! YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"
The dog did not get back there this instant.
Fuming once more, Papyrus stomped his way up the steps in chase of the canine - how many times would this fiasco repeat itself? - muttering all the while as he followed the trail of oatmeal left in its awful wake.
"Ruff, ruff!"
Papyrus approached the source of the barking; Which was Sans' room now, with the door halfway open. He heard murmuring inside, and slowed his steps in front of the half-open door. He blinked. If Sans had been asleep before, he certainly wasn't now.
"...mff? hey, c'mon pal..."
Some shuffling noises. Light, contented panting.
"Ruff!"
"not in 'th mood today..."
The door had been left unlocked? He could have sworn up and down Sans would have locked it normally. He always keeps it locked.
Surprised, Papyrus peered inside.
The bedroom was more of a haphazard mess - not to mention more of a health hazard - than it usually was, if that was possible. Papyrus cringed a bit; Bits and pieces of trash from the trash tornado had somehow flown out at some point and were scattered across the floor. The drawers were all opened at varying degrees, with clothes hanging out of it, and on top of the drawer next to the lamp was a half-full plate of spaghetti that had probably been there for a length of time Papyrus didn't wish to know.
The lamp was turned off and the blinds were closed, leaving the room completely dark save for one ray of light flooding in from the halls via the now opened door.
Sans was curled up facing away from him in the middle of the rickety old mattress, with no doubt grimy sheets bunched up messily around him; Keeping him uncalled for company was the dog, apparently not the least bit bothered by the disorder of the bedroom, snuggling up to Sans... and by the looks of it from where Papyrus was standing, slobbering all over his face, giving a small whimper at him now and again as well.
The dog received little protest to his efforts other than a weak batting motion that didn't even reach its target.
'WOWIE,' Papyrus thought. 'THAT'S MORE REACTION THAN I GET FROM HIM SOMETIMES. WHO KNEW SLOBBERING ON PEOPLE WAS AN EFFECTIVE WAKE-UP TACTIC? THE MORE YOU KNOW.'
"SANS?"
A few moments of silence passed, and Papyrus almost began to wonder if somehow Sans didn't hear him.
He was about to call his brother's name once more when, with all the energy of a sloth, his brother sat up and wiped at his face with his sleeve half-heartedly, and he heard him releasing a silent, uneven breath. He couldn't tell if it was a sigh, or perhaps maybe a yawn...? It took enough moments of silence that he was about to speak once again, when Sans spoke fairly neutrally but not unkindly.
"hey bro. good to see ya."
He sounded... rather exhausted, for someone who's been sleeping the weekend away.
"IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AS WELL, BROTHER!" Papyrus said genuinely. "ESPECIALLY AWAKE! ALBEIT, AS A RESULT OF THIS MISCHIEVIOUS CANINE'S AWFUL ANTICS... RANSACKING MY BOWL OF OATMEAL FOR HIMSELF AND THE LIKE!" He added sternly with teeth gritted, glaring at the oblivious dog.
The dog stuck its tongue out at him, and while said mannerism was normal for dogs Papyrus couldn't help but feel like he was being mocked.
"yeah?" Sans asked at a low volume, failing to make eye contact. "'shame. he's uh..." He glanced at the furry creature currently making his home on his caseless pillow, pawing at it and yipping without a care. "he's a real... doggone handful, yeah?"
Papyrus narrows his eye-sockets into small slits, though it wasn't so fierce a glare given the lack of attentive audience.
"THAT WAS TERRIBLE EVEN FOR YOU."
Sans spared him a glance finally, giving a very lopsided grin.
"don't ya mean..." He jabbed a weak thumb at the dog. "'terrier'-ble?"
Papyrus took a deep breath, discontented on several levels.
"REGARDLESS OF THE CANINE'S MEDDLESOME ACTIONS... YOUR PORTION OF DINNER, HOWEVER! OUR UNINVITED GUEST DECIDED TO SPARE!" Papyrus explains, earning a mildly bemused look from Sans this time. "FOR REASONS UNKNOWN TO ME! SO YOU SHOULD PROBABLY COME DOWNSTAIRS AND EAT BEFORE IT CHANGES ITS MIND."
For reasons also unknown to Papyrus, this caused Sans to give the dog a dry look, non-existent brow raised as if skeptical.
Papyrus could almost swear the dog stared back at his brother challengingly, and he felt a bead of sweat atop his head despite being physically incapable of sweating. Were they telepathically communicating?
...Mysterious, messy, eats anything you give it (or don't give it) sleeps in the laundry often... Sans and the dog had so much it common come to think of it, it wouldn't shock him.
"alrighty," Sans shrugged as if he hadn't just been having a staring match with a dog. "be down in a minute, bro." He said, giving one of his signature lazy grins. "you go on ahead."
Papyrus gave his brother a calculating look before he did.
Nevertheless, he ultimately did just that.
Less than ten minutes later - almost four minutes and a half later, actually - Papyrus had swiftly obtained a mop, towels and cleaning solution, and was seconds away from finishing cleaning up the remainder of the ruined dinner... or as much of it that hadn't already been eaten by the dog, anyway.
Just then, he heard the sound of muffled footsteps making their way down the steps.
(And barking accompanied it. Sigh.)
"OH! THERE ARE YOU ARE, SANS."
"heya."
"YOU'VE ARRIVED DOWNSTAIRS... EARLIER THAN EXPECTED." Papyrus noted. "NEVERTHELESS, YOUR OATMEAL IS MOST DEFINITELY COLD BY NOW."
"eh, i'll deal."
"I'D OFFER TO HEAT IT UP FOR YOU MYSELF, BUT UNFORTUNATELY I'VE FOUND MYSELF IN THE UNDESIRABLE POSITION OF CLEANING UP THIS HORRID MESS!"
"why not let the dog do it?"
Large wooden spoonful of scooped oatmeal in hand, Papyrus gave Sans an incredulous look.
"WHAT? THAT'S AN ABSURD IDEA SANS, THE DOG CAUSED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Papyrus pointed out as he turned from the carpet and made his way into the kitchen; Stopping at the trash can, his rested his boot sharply on the step-pedal to open it. "...NOT TO MENTION, I IMAGINE IT WOULD BE VERY DIFFULT TO HANDLE A MOP WITH PAWS."
"nah bro, i'm sure he can... lick it." Sans winked.
The oatmeal dropped from the spoon and into the trash can with a plop, and as Papyrus' eye-sockets went comedically wide and googly, deep in his psyche the sound of shattering glass reminiscent of someone (specifically him) leaping out a window and doing a front-flip could be heard.
"SANS!"
"heh."
Stepping back into the living room, Papyrus narrowed his eyes at Sans, internally scrutinizing his brother.
Sans smirked back at him as per usual.
...With a huff and shake of his head, Papyrus went about applying the cleaning solution to the carpet without further incident.
And so the evening became quite hushed.
Sans attempted offering his meal to Papyrus once before he began eating, saying that he shouldn't go hungry after putting so much effort into the recipe and he could just go grab a burg from Grilby's, it was fine with him, but Papyrus shut that down immediately and stated he would simply have leftovers of his fine-cooked spaghetti when he was done cleaning and that Sans should eat.
Quite futilely, Sans had asked if he was sure, and the look Papyrus had given him must have been enough to shut the line of conversation down. ("...if you say so bro, just making sure you don't miss 'oat,' heh.")
Papyrus had pointedly ignored the pun.
And the dog, who was now sitting on Sans' lap cuddling, suddenly acting as if it were the pinnacle of good behavior and not even glancing at the oatmeal.
The minutes ticked by in relative silence, Sans eating his dinner and occasionally pausing to pet the dog, while Papyrus tried to focus on cleaning up the carpet. Now and then one of them, typically Papyrus, would interject the silence with a casual comment, though Sans had spoken up a few times as well; Asking about his day, how was training with Undyne lately, how the puzzle construction was going along, more puns, the usual.
His brother was joking and grinning just as he would any other day. If there was a trace of any bad mood detectable in his tone or behavior before, it was completely gone now.
Dabbing at the carpet with a towel conscientiously, Papyrus took a moment to consider this.
Sans has told him many times in the past to be careful with his tendency to overthink things; That while an analytical mind was indeed a virtue the underground needed, such a mind in overdrive can lead to creating problems where there are none. Papyrus could begrudgingly admit this was a habit he was prone to slipping into often throughout his years and required guidance with... and he still did it.
Sometimes.
But the gleam in his brother's eye-sockets as he grinned (particularly at Papyrus' own expense after a horrible pun, naturally...) seemed very genuine. Not a hint of any sort of mask to be found there. His posture was... well, he was slouching backwards in his seat all lazy-like, but Sans always did that.
It truly seemed as if nothing was amiss.
Pondering this, Papyrus returned to the kitchen a minute later to return the mop, towels and cleaning solution to their proper places, having done all he could regarding the carpet. He simply had to let it dry for now and hope for the best. Between the dog, the odd occasion cooking lessons took place in their kitchen if Undyne's kitchen was out of commission for reasons, and Sans' strange affinity for ketchup... well.
It was far from the first stain The Great Papyrus had to expertly banish from their home and most likely it wouldn't be the last!
Feeling his non-existent stomach making a ruckus, he turned to the fridge and peered inside; If he had a nose, he would've wrinkled it in distaste. Grilby's leftovers undoubtedly drenched in days old grease, an empty bag of chisps of a brand Papyrus has no clue how Sans keeps obtaining seeing as he hasn't seen it once in the kind bunny's shop, and bottles of ketchup all filled to varying degrees.
Ignoring this blatant display of barbarism, Papyrus acquired his own wrapped-up plate of spaghetti from last night and closed the fridge.
Beginning his stride back into the living room, Papyrus paused at the sight in the bottom of his line of vision, of a smidge of white that was a blatant contrast to his normally red boots.
Curious, Papyrus bent down to retrieve the white object, only to find it was a particularly thick strand of white fur. He narrowed his eyes at it; Typical, completely and utterly typical. It seemed as if he would have to end up perusing the house for any stray strands of dog hair now as well!
Alas, would he ever eat in peace? Agitated once more, he peered into the living room, turning his attention to the blasted canine once more. It was still sitting on Sans' lap, rolled over and currently receiving absent-minded ear-strokes from his brother, who...
Who was staring dully at their cranberry walls, his spoon abandoned in the oatmeal bowl. And looking very sad once again.
But it wasn't an obvious sad, not really. Not to the untrained eye. It was not the type of sad that even Papyrus himself would have noticed had he not already been aware that it may or may not be lurking about.
It was the type of sad one says with their gaze, whether they mean to or not.
Less than a second later the dog yipped about something; Sans blinked the rest of the light back into his eyes twice, attention caught by the clamor, and his absent-minded petting soon gave way to a reckless little game where the canine would nip at his index finger bone, and Sans would pull away from the canine's jaws before the digit got caught, booping his nose every other moment in teasing. A subdued smile rested on his face as he did this.
It had been a very brief moment.
But Papyrus notices these things.
And no matter how Sans insisted on hiding his bad days or keeping his struggles hidden away, at the end of the day, Papyrus still knew his brother.
"...HAVE YOU BEEN FEELING WELL RECENTLY, SANS?"
Sans' looked up at him in mild bewilderment, hand paused mid-motion in another hasty escape from the dog's jaws; Fortunately for him, his finger had just barely retreated from the biting-zone, and once again the dog's jaws clamped down onto open air, much to its whining dismay.
After a roughly three second reaction period, Sans' features settled into a routine smirk.
"'course i have, bro. you know me."
"THAT I DO KNOW YOU, BROTHER. I KNOW MANY THINGS! AND AS THE GREAT, CARING, KNOWLEDGEABLE-AND-ALSO-OBSERVANT-BROTHER PAPYRUS, IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT I MUST ENSURE YOUR WELL-BEING IN CERTAIN TIMES!"
Sans blinked.
"...SUCH AS THIS PARTICULAR ONE!"
The smirk on Sans' face wavered just an increment. He stared at Papyrus for a bit, as if - in a rare turn of events for his brother - unsure how to respond to the affectionate gesture. After a minute, however, he shook his head good-naturedly.
"heh. that's real sweet of ya, pap. i appreciate ya looking out like you do, y'know. i really do." Sans said, half-grin stretched up a little more gently. "only thing you need to trouble yourself makin' sure of though is that humans get captured, puzzles get recalibrated, 'n you just keep being awesome... n' that one's already a guarantee."
The fondness of his brother's voice was evident, even with the dog yipping over it as he continued to speak.
"don't go concerning yourself too much about this ol' bag of bones though, huh?"
The small canine in his lap grew restless, and Sans took a careful hold of the pup to bend over in his seat and lower it to the ground.
"you don't need to," Sans then returned to comfortably leaning back into the chair. He picked up his spoon, seemingly intent on returning to his cold bowl of oatmeal. "your big bro's always going tibia okay."
The pup lingered for a moment, licking at Sans' ankle delightedly; Sans leaned over just enough to give it one last quick head pat with his free hand before it bounded off with a bark to no doubt scratch chips into the paint on one of their bedroom doors - most likely Papyrus' own.
Papyrus took his time to consider his brother's words, as well as his own.
"...PERHAPS YOU ARE CORRECT, ON A TECHNICAL LEVEL."
Not one to continue this line of conversation, Sans gave a hard-to-read flicker of a glance towards him, then turned to stir his spoon in the oatmeal listlessly. Papyrus treaded lightly towards his own chair, and he set his wrapped plate of spaghetti onto the table.
"ON A VERY TECHNICAL AND LITERAL LEVEL, THAT IS, I DO NOT 'NEED' TO DO MANY THINGS. INCLUDING 'TROUBLING' OR 'CONCERNING' MYSELF FOR ANYTHING. NEVERTHELESS... I DO AND WILL CONCERN MYSELF FOR YOU, SANS. NO LESS THAN I'M SURE YOU WOULD CONCERN YOURSELF FOR ME IF OUR POSITIONS WERE REVERSED, AND IT WAS I WHO WAS HAVING A VERY DIFFICULT AND UNDESIRABLE TIME FOR MYSTERIOUS REASONS."
Sans' spoon was still, and he seemed to find his bowl of oatmeal very intriguing.
"pap..."
"I KNOW YOU ARE A SKELETON OF DISCRETION, SANS, AND I WILL CONTINUE TO RESPECT YOUR PRIVACY." Papyrus said, gently putting a hand up to as to fend off any concern about boundaries. "HOWEVER... I SIMPLY WISH TO REMIND YOU THAT I AM HERE. I AM ALWAYS HERE. AND EVEN IN THE HYPOTHETICAL EVENT THAT I AM NOT HERE, STRICTLY IN THE PHYSICAL SENSE, I AM ALWAYS NO MORE THAN TWO RINGS AWAY WHEN YOU CALL!"
That bowl of oatmeal, judging by his brother's features with his unmoving gaze still attached to it, must also be very touching and poignant as well.
"...heh, that... i, uh..." He only murmured.
"AND WHILE YOU WILL NEVER OBLIGATED TO CALL IN THIS HYPOTHETICAL SCENARIO, YOU CAN BE ASSURED YOU WILL ALWAYS BE ANSWERED NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. AND IT WILL NEVER BE A TROUBLE, BROTHER."
"...thanks, papyrus." Sans finally replied softly.
"ANYTIME, SANS."
"i know."
And Papyrus knows he knows. But he just wants to put it out there.
"WHETHER THAT TIME WAS THEORETICALLY NOW, OR IN THE FUTURE. BUT IF IT WERE NOT, THEORETICALLY, RIGHT NOW, THAT WOULD ALSO THEORETICALLY BE FINE. OR WAIT- NO, LITERALLY? YES, IT WOULD BE LITERALLY FINE. JUST MAKING THAT ABUNDANTLY CLEAR SO THERE IS NO CAUSE FOR CONCERN OR FOR PRESSURE."
Sans gave a rueful, but no less amused chuckle. Again, he softly shook his head.
"i know, bro." Again, he softly shook his head. "you really are too great for me."
"NONSENSE." Papyrus tutted, taking his seat at their table. He gave his brother a kind, knowing look. "WHILE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS AM INDEED GREAT, THIS MEANS I ALSO THEREBY KNOW GREATNESS WHEN I SEE IT! AND SOME DAY, BROTHER, YOU WILL SURELY SEE YOUR OWN GREATNESS AS WELL. EVEN IF YOU DON'T SEE IT AT THE MOMENT."
With this reminder hanging in the air, Papyrus unwrapped his leftover spaghetti began twirling the noodles onto his fork, satisfied that his sentiment was conveyed and received.
Sans, meanwhile, struggled to keep himself from emoting too openly in response to that. Papyrus graciously pretended not to notice as Sans' eyelights ping-ponged subtly between several different conflicting emotions in response to his brother's promise - disbelief, guilt, sorrow, bemusement - before finally landing on something akin to a soft, subdued gratefulness.
And not for the first time, Papyrus wondered what thoughts could be lurking about in that skull of his. Wondered about what words were filtered out when his brother spoke, about unpleasant thoughts that he kept so carefully locked away from plain sight, racking up a storm inside where he assumed no one could possibly see or know. And what he could do to help quell these storms should they continue to arise in the future.
Papyrus wasn't sure if Sans believed his words yet. And that... was still a sorrowful notion, there was no downplaying it.
But he had enough belief for the both of them, even on the bad days.
So it was okay. It would be okay for now, for the moment.
That night, Sans and Papyrus settled together on the springy old green couch as per their comfortable routine, the familiar and thrilling sounds of old reruns of Mettaton's show coming at them from the TV as Papyrus delightedly indulged in his favorite episodes and Sans quietly followed suit, most often looking over simply to smile and watch his brother's open enthusiasm that somehow never faded no matter how many times they replayed the show.
And eventually both brothers felt a peace inside, resting in the moment together. Telling them, assuring them, that everything truly would be okay in the end.