entrancelogs | damn, let the poor sucker sleep [closed]

Papyrus slept for a whole day, too.

Or at least, he'd like to say he did. He did sleep a little, if you could even call it that. His eyes shut and he was able to not move for a few minutes.

I can't lose you again.

They'll kill you.

I killed you every single time...you just let me.

His eyes reopened.

Papyrus rises out of bed, wearing a set of basic pajama bottoms and a tanktop with the words "COOLEST BRO" glitter-painted onto it (one of his best works, thusfar). He wraps his scarf around his neck and leaves his room to go find someone who can help.

A hesitant hand is lifted and he knocks softly on Sans' door.

"SANS?"

His eyelights shift toward the door, but he doesn't move.

That was sooner than expected. But then again, Papyrus never takes things slowly. Always rushing everywhere.

He could just not answer, pretend he's asleep, which is his usual tactic for things like this. Papyrus even usually buys it, since why would his lazy brother ever not be sleeping?

Only Papyrus knows better now.

Sans just...wants a bit more time. Time to just coast through this abyss until he washes up on the shore again. He always does, after all. Even the worst days eventually end, or Reset, and Sans finds a few drops of energy to stand up and plaster on a smile and go through the motions. You can only lie in bed for so long before you end up unable to sleep for another minute, and you can only stare at the ceiling for so long before it becomes...

Well, boring.

"yeah. one sec."

He sits up slowly. Pulls himself together as much as he can, which isn't much. At least he's not going to burst into tears again. God. Embarrassing.

He stands slowly, crosses his room slowly. Opens his door slowly.

He peers up at Papyrus, and he can't help the slight twitch of a genuine smile at that tanktop. Coolest Bro. Hell yeah he is.

"hey, paps."

Seeing Sans' face brings some of the event back. Heavy sobbing. Pleading voices."HELLO, BROTHER!"

Awkwardly, he stands outside of Sans' room,

"I WAS JUST WONDERING IF YOU WERE STILL AWAKE? WHICH YOU ARE! MAY I COME IN?" Papyrus seems a little out of it-- but could he be blamed?

Even if Sans dodged all his questions, at least he wouldn't be alone.

Everything's a bit of a blur. Sans is pretty sure he cried himself to sleep on Papyrus at some point, which, wow, that hasn't happened since he was a babybones.

God, how does he even begin to apologize for all this? It's so humiliating. Never mind all the horrid shit he's going to have to explain, all the questions that Papyrus is going to ask. Breaking down like that. Sure, it was an event, it being an event is a good excuse, but it still happened.

Ugh.

"yeah, sure."

He opens his door wider and flicks on the lights. He squints a bit at the sudden brightness. The thing about crying a lot, especially crying yourself to sleep, and also just generally dealing with hyperactive emotions for several days--it kind of leaves you feeling hungover.

Sans's room is a mess, because of course it is. There's the usual sock pile. A small trash tornado--Sans hasn't had the chance to let it grow to its full size quite yet. There's dirty clothes and random crap strewn across the floor. It smells faintly like ketchup.

Like another world, would be the phrase.

Sans goes to crack open a window to at least air the place out. He won't apologize for the mess, since he never does, and anyway, it's familiar. They all need familiar right now.

Papyrus is quite used to this sort of mess from Sans. He recalls asking about the trash tornado years ago when they had moved into their house in Snowdin, and Sans just telling him not to worry about it.

He wonders if Sans has been hurting as deeply as his emotional outburst suggested from back in the woods.

His arm is casted, now. Or at least...mostly casted. Unable to return to the clinic for...reasons, he had simply found a small pillow and taped it around his arm. It seems to do the trick, but it is much wider than he's used to carrying, so it touches things outside of his scope of motion when he's not paying attention.

"IT'S, AH, STILL A MESS. DID YOU START A NEW SOCK PILE??" he wants to sound annoyed, but he's struggling. It comes off more relieved.

That being said, he feels so horribly out of place and awkward right now that he can't even ask the questions he wants to.

He stands in a spot unoccupied by random things, holding his pillow arm to his chest.

Sans stays by the window. The fresh air is nice. It makes everything feel a little less stifling. Literally.

He turns back toward Papyrus, leaning back against the wall and stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. Casual as you like.

"yeah, heh, i guess i did. i dunno. made it feel more homey."

It's comforting. And yet also a reminder that one day he'll be snatched back into the Underground, that all of this will be forgotten. Can't be too comfortable.

"how's the arm doing? you wanna tell me who did that now?"

His eyes fall to the floor, settling on an obsolete article of clothing.

"WELL, MIKAN SAID SHE NEEDED TO PERFORM CHECK-UPS, YOU SEE," he starts, looking mildly uncomfortable. "I AM SURE THAT SHE MEANT NO HARM. I SHOULD GO AND SEE HER SOON, BUT I FEAR SHE WILL NOT WANT TO SEE ME."

He did, after all, clonk her on the head with a bone. Papyrus feels extremely guilty-- she has always been so nice to him, after all.

Sans is patient. He winces a bit when he finally says her name. Yeah, that makes sense.

"ah, jeez. yeah, she came after me like that too. glad she didn't do worse to you, bro."

And considering how Mikan is, she'll probably never forgive herself. Fortunately, Papyrus forgives everyone.

He sighs, leaning more heavily against the wall.

"that event drove everyone kinda outta their skulls. heh."

Papyrus smiles, but he doesn't like it. "I COULD HAVE HURT HER IF I FOUGHT BACK BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO," he says. "AFTER I ESCAPED FROM THERE IS WHEN I FOUND YOU."

If one were looking at Papyrus they could tell that he has thousands of things on his mind. He opens his mouth several times and shuts it again. Would it be insensitive? Maybe Sans doesn't want to talk about it.

But Papyrus can't help it.

"SANS, I WAS WONDERING, AH," he stumbles out, staying planted in his one clean circle of space in Sans' room. "I-I JUST...HAVE QUESTIONS. ABOUT SOME THINGS."

About everything is what he should have said.

"yeah. must've been right after i ran into her, too."

Sans basically just turned her soul blue and then teleported away. Wasn't worth trying to reason with her, not during this event, nor was it worth the risk to his own life.

He sags a little against the wall, gaze dropping to the floor. Yeah, here it comes. Of course Sans doesn't want to talk about anything Papyrus is going to bring up, but it's not like he can just run. Nor is it like this was unexpected. A whole lot has happened, and Papyrus isn't an idiot.

"sure, bro. i'd be surprised if you didn't."

Of course, he had been expecting Sans to tell him no. Maybe not harshly, but surely his brother is tired, and if everything that was said is true, then Sans would have a great reason to be exhausted. He looks somewhat surprised when Sans agrees so wholeheartedly.

"REALLY??" He coughs and glances around the room, undisturbed in the filthiness of it, only trying to collect his thoughts. "THEN...HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN, ER..."

How long have you witnessed me die? How many resets have you seen? How long have you been able to teleport and summon the blasters?

How long have you been suffering alone? How long have I let you suffer alone?

His eyes glow a faint orange as he mulls over all of his questions. Unsure what to ask. How to ask.

"HOW LONG?" A broad question. Papyrus watches Sans while holding his arm from across the room.

He's never felt further from his brother in his life.

Fuck.

Man, of all the questions to lead with, he had to pick the hardest one.

Sans folds his arms across his chest. He keeps the motion casual, loose. He doesn't want to look like he's hugging himself. Sans glances up for a moment, spots the glow in Papyrus's eyesockets and immediately looks away.

He wants to ask Papyrus to stop doing that, because it really freaks Sans out, but he won't. He doesn't know the context for how and why Papyrus can do that yet, and he isn't even sure how to ask. It's too important to just tell Papyrus to stop without knowing what it really means.

They have enough distance between them already.

How long. What a question. How long has Sans been like this? How long have the Resets been happening?

"i..."

How to even answer something like that?

"i...don't know. awhile."

It's honest, at least. He has no idea. No idea how many timelines its been. He has notebooks full of tally marks back home, but he never bothered to count them. Never bothered to differentiate which were Frisks and which were the flower's, since the flower's are much harder to remember or even quantify. And even before that, before Resets, everything that happened before it all even started...

It's been awhile.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT IT...?" Do you not trust me? Searching in the darkness for information is what Papyrus is doing. Reaching out for answers that he can't see.

The glowing in his eyes stops abruptly when he realizes that he's been gripping his arm a little too tight, and can feel the pressure growing on his injury. He lets go of it, awkwardly holding his hand in front of him while the pain subsides into a slightly numb feeling.

"DID YOU EVER? T-TALK TO ME ABOUT IT." His words shake a little. Funny, how the event that passed right over his head makes him feel like he's bearing the emotional whiplash everyone else felt those few days. Nervous. Anxious. Scared. Comforted in that Sans would talk with him about it. Ashamed?

Lonely?

The hurt and doubt in Papyrus's voice utterly kills him. Sans curls in on himself a bit more, while still trying to look like he's keeping it together.

He's Sans, he always keeps it together. Unless some external force is messing with his emotions, or unless his brother is asking him questions like this.

He rubs the back of his skull.

"i must have. i think so. once or twice."

He can't remember everything, and this is one of the hazier areas. He's not sure if he actually remembers sometimes spilling the beans to Papyrus, or if he just dreamed that, or just imagined it. Maybe he only ever wanted to sometimes. A large part of him wants to be the kind of person who would never tell Papyrus any of it, no matter how hard it gets. He doesn't deserve to know that his life, that the whole universe, is held together with string and duct tape and the will of a child.

"it's. it's complicated stuff, bro. in the grand scheme of things, it's...not even that important."

You can go your whole life without ever knowing any of this, and it's probably a whole lot better. Ignorance isn't just bliss, it's freedom.

"i don't...i just don't want you to think it's cause i don't trust you, or think badly of you, or anything like that."

Sans's eyelights went out at some point during this conversation and haven't come back.

"BUT IT IS IMPORTANT!! OTHERWISE IT WOULD NOT BOTHER YOU SO!"

Nice try, bro. Papyrus send a half-hearted glare your way and places a hand on his hip. "IF YOU DON'T THINK BADLY OF ME, PLEASE TELL ME THE TRUTH. DO NOT LIE TO ME TO PROTECT ME."

His glare falls back to the floor. "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE AS GREAT AND COOL OF A BROTHER AS YOU ASSURE ME I AM IF I CANNOT BE TRUSTED? I FEEL AS IF YOU THINK I CANNOT HANDLE IT," he looks contemplative for a moment and continues.

"AND THAT MAY BE, BUT I WISH TO CARRY THE 'COMPLICATED STUFF' WITH YOU.".

"THE BURDEN SHOULD NOT BE YOURS TO BEAR, ALONE."

His voice is strong. Authoritative. Perhaps if he weren't such a soft skeleton, he would have made an excellent guardsman. And maybe someday, he'd return to the Underground, oblivious to the perils that Sans is forced through on the whims of children who his brother is not responsible for.

But until then, he'd stand by Sans. Papyrus would endeavour to protect the skeleton who had been protecting him the whole time.

"but it is, bro."

He looks up at Papyrus and puts on a weak grin, eyelights still gone.

"it is mine to bear alone. cause even if i tell you, you forget. and then i'd have to tell you again. over and over. it's not your fault. it's just...how it is."

Telling someone the same thing over and over, trying to make them understand, forcing them to share a burden with you...it's exhausting, selfish. If you're being crushed under the weight of something, the best thing you can do is make sure no one goes down with you.

It doesn't even change anything. Even if he tells Papyrus, his brother still runs off to face the human. They still kill him, or they don't. Nothing changes.

"it's tiring, bro. and it'd be cruel of me to do that to you."

A quiet stare through Sans' empty eye sockets has Papyrus more confused than before. More questions. Less answers-- more questions. They flooded his mind until he just started to speak, unable to contain any of them.

"HAVE YOU EXPERIENCED A RESET HERE?"

He's watching Sans, closely now. The intricacies of scientific babble were beyond him, but Papyrus watches Sans as if the other might just jump out the window. Holding his memories of happier times close and his brother's words closer.

It would be cruel of me.

Cruel?

That stings for reasons that Papyrus is trying to wrap his head around.

He flinches at the word. Papyrus shouldn't know about that, should never know. He's tried so hard over so many timelines to keep it a secret.

"heh." He scrubs at his face with one hand. "heh. heh. not really, but..."

Should he say this? Papyrus probably knows already. He's not stupid. Even if he didn't figure it out on his own, someone probably has told him already. Mikan befriended all over again after all.

"this isn't the first time you've been here, bro. you were here and then you left. or maybe it was a different version of you. guess it doesn't really matter."

He shrugs.

"it's the same here as back home. no one ever remembers. it might as well be a reset."

Well, he wasn't expecting that. But looking back, he recalls Mikan telling him something to that likeness. It feels strange to have existed and not remember any of it. "HAVE YOU SPOKEN WITH, ER, ME...HERE? IN WONDERLAND? ABOUT THE RESETS."

The questions pile up. He shakes his head a little and tries to get them in order, and to disregard his last question.

"SANS, I...DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN THROUGH. OR WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN, OUTSIDE OF THE WORDS YOU SHARED WITH ME DURING YOUR EMOTIONAL DISTRESS," his words are less firm than they were before. Papyrus looks a little lost.

"I WOULD LIKE TO UNDERSTAND. TO HELP YOU. YOU ARE ONLY BEING CRUEL BY NOT LETTING ME HELP, EVEN THOUGH..."

...even though you were asking for help. Papyrus decides to not finish that thought out of some mixture respect and pride. Sans wasn't all together this weekend. But then, neither was Chara...

"IF IT MAKES YOU TIRED, YOU MAY LAY ON YOUR..." he stares at Sans' bed questioningly, as he always has. A smile grows on his face, despite himself. "...BED? BUT DO NOT SLEEP!"

He doesn't quite understand the importance of sleep yet. He probably never will.

"no. never came up."

That Papyrus simply hadn't been in Wonderland long enough. They hadn't had much chance to talk at all.

He knows it's cruel. Of course it's cruel to keep Papyrus in the dark, to lie to him. But it's so much worse to force him to know about all this stuff. Isn't it?

"i don't...i can't..."

He doesn't know how to explain. How to even begin. His head hurts.

"i wanted to protect you...hhh. ha. what a joke."

What a fucking joke. When has he ever really protected Papyrus? He doesn't lift a finger to save him, even when he knows the human is going to kill him.

"i just...couldn't...i didn't want you to end up like me."

Protect?

The tall skeleton shakes his head.

"PROTECTION IS NO JOKE, BROTHER! BUT...I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM SAFE!" He tries to lighten the atmosphere with his normal forwardness.

It's extremely trying. Papyrus hangs on every word that comes out of Sans' mouth-- hoping to hear something he can make sense of, or something that could answer all his questions.

Or at least one of them.

"I JUST..." The forwardness dies away and he looks...lost again. Lost for words is a pretty rare thing for the taller brother to be. "...WANT TO STAND TOGETHER, WITH YOU AS FRIENDS. AS TEAM MATES! ...AS BROTHERS."

How long has Sans been hiding this? How long has he been quietly suffering behind the scenes? The thought makes Papyrus want to pull him into a hug. The memory of Sans standing between himself and Chara, beside himself and overwhelmed by fears that Papyrus had never known is...

...uncomfortable. The perfect word to describe Papyrus right now. Uncomfortable.

He hates this. He hates what he's doing to Papyrus. This is why he keeps it all a secret, because Papyrus should never have to worry, should never have to feel lost and confused. He should just be able to live happily, to go on believing the best of everything and everyone.

And he's not safe. Not just because Chara and Frisk are here. All the people here. People like Mikan, who can become a threat as soon as the wrong kind of event rolls around. Even beyond Wonderland, the universe is going to keep trying to break Papyrus's spirit, because that's just what it does to happy, optimistic people.

But Sans is...

He's so tired. He's been tired for so long. The kind of tired that sleep can never fix.

"brothers. heh."

Sans even got that one wrong. Cheated Papyrus out of his real brother. A Sans with metal on his hand, one who knows what all of that means, one who knows why Papyrus's eyes glow like that. A Sans who would probably know how to handle this, what to say. Who at the very least has a shared history.

Sans would gladly swap places with that Sans.

All at once he can't fight anymore. Can't even stay standing. He sits down on the floor, drapes his hands over his knees.

"okay."

He doesn't know how to begin, what to say, what to hide.

"don't think i'm up for standing right now. how about sitting together?"

He pats the floor next to him.

"i'll talk."

Without missing a beat, Papyrus moves to Sans' side, sliding down the wall. It feels more comfortable, at least, even if Sans hasn't cleaned his room once since he moved into this room (or so it feels like).

Papyrus seems a little stiff. Should he ask questions? Sans said he'd talk.

"YES. BROTHERS." It comes out before he can help it-- Sans being sensitive over that topic in particular has created a small shadow in Papyrus who has also become protective of his title.

A short breath he had been subconsciously holding slowly eases out of his system and he tries to relax a little. His arm touches Sans' arm and he leans just a little bit; a gentle reminder that Papyrus is there, and he's real.

Papyrus is so insistent.

It occurs to Sans too late that it's a two-way street. Because it's saying that Papyrus isn't his brother. It's like shoving Papyrus away and saying he's not real. Sans can't just do that. Would never do that. Has unconsciously been doing just that.

They're...still brothers. Sans can't ever quite get past the fact that he's not the right brother, but...they are still brothers. Always. Just brothers from other worlds.

That stupid metal plate doesn't have to be this gigantic chasm between them.

Sans leans against Papyrus, just slightly, sighing a little.

"brothers."

He says it like an affirmation.

He could fall asleep right here and now, but he knows he has to stay awake. He said he'd talk.

First things first.

"i'm sorry. for that...whole event. all of it. everything. i'm sorry for the lies. i'm sorry i'm like this. i'm...heh. i'm sorry for all this dumb apologizing."

Papyrus leans against Sans comfortingly while his brother speaks, listening to the apologies after apologies...and yet, more apologies?

"WE ARE HERE TOGETHER, NOW, TO HELP EACHOTHER. THERE IS NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE!"

It's the truth, straight from his heart. As nervous as Papyrus finds himself, there is some small, sweet joy in sitting here with Sans. As if a piece of him had run into the woods, and was just not making it's way back. His soul feels warm, and comforted by the presence of Sans, alone.

Even if the conversation turned dry, he can remember this moment. His legs pull up toward his chest, and Papyrus leans on Sans a little bit more, growing more and more relaxed with each passing second.

He could fall asleep right here and now. But he has to stay awake.

He wants to listen.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject