[CLOSED] hey brother

[punful]

Who: Sans and Papyrus
Where: Papyrus's room
When: 6/8
Rating: PG/PG-13 for angst and mental fuckery
Summary: Sans saw something unpleasant in the mirrors and needs to talk to his bro
The Story:

It took him quite awhile to calm down enough to even leave the hallway. He'd ended up huddled against the wall next to the mirror, knees to his chest, staring at nothing. He sat there for almost a half an hour, trying to calm down enough to just stand up and walk and move.

He needed to find Papyrus. The real one. He needed to prove to himself that Papyrus is still here, that he's his brother and not some...some horrifying, insane version who would attack his brother. That they're still brothers who don't hate each other.

He finds his way to Papyrus's room and stops before his door. Papyrus must be here. Once again there's just a thin barrier between himself and a Papyrus. But this time it's...it's the real Papyrus. Right?

The fear is coming back. He can't, though, he can't be afraid of his own brother. It wasn't him. It wasn't really him. The Papyrus on the other side of the mirrors wasn't...he isn't...

He's still a Papyrus. That's the horrible thing. He's a version. There could be a Papyrus out there in the naturally occurring timelines with a Papyrus like that. There could be versions of both of them out there somewhere who hate each other just like the Mirrors do.

Sans knocks before he can talk himself out of it.

"papyrus? you in?"

Comments

[everyonecanbekind]

"YES, COME IN!"

The door is unlocked, anyway, it usually is. Papyrus is within, wrapping his naked neck up with his signature red scarf. His bed is unmade-- sheets lay neatly folded on top of it, as if he were about to change them. A small, yellow flower pot sits on the windowsill, though it remains empty.

A smile on his lips, he turns to face his brother. A hand falls on his hip.

"SANS," he speaks loudly, vibrant in his cheerful attitude. "WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU??"

A mirror sits on his desk- a small one (after the last incident with mirrors, Papyrus figured it would be in his best interest to just have a small one. In case he needs to gussy up). It is embraced by a familiar darkness for a few moments, and then back to normal.

[punful]

Sans goes in, though he pauses at the door to look in. Papyrus is there. The real thing. The Real thing. Right? Seems like Sans caught him in the middle of chores. Of course.

Sans makes himself smile and steps inside. Papyrus's room is as pristine as ever. It's familiar. Safe.

Safe until he spots the mirror on Papyrus's desk.

"oh. you...you still have a mirror in here?"

[everyonecanbekind]

A look is given to his little mirror. And then one for Sans. How...strange. But is it really? Having a mirror in your room isn't a bad thing.

"YES! WHILE I AM ALWAYS NATURALLY GREAT, SOMETIMES...DOUBLE CHECKING IS NOT SO BAD??"

He turns away from Sans to start putting his bed together. Not a wasted movement-- the sheets are unfurled in a display of royal red and his comforter is black with flames-- it's a mandatory comforter. Looking at it makes Papyrus feel very cool. Seamlessly, the bed is put together and tucked into the mattress.

"HAVE YOU SEEN THE MIRRORS RECENTLY? THEY SEEM TO HAVE CHANGED DIRECTION?" Mainly just musing to himself, Papyrus sets some decorative pillows against the window and then steps back to admire his work.

"I MADE A FRIEND THROUGH THEM, TODAY! NYEHEHEH!"

The tall skeleton turns to Sans and smiles something contagious-- a small human, who needed a friend. Who promised to be there if Papyrus needed anything, and vice-versa.

Maybe there's hope for the mirror world, after all.

[punful]

Sans keeps his eyesockets on the mirror. This is Papyrus's room. Would Papyrus's Mirror have gone back to his own room after...all that? Is he here--there, now? Sans doesn't think he can handle seeing him again.

"y...yeah, i guess. double-checking and all."

He tucks his hands in his pockets, still staring at the mirror. He can't look away. He's watching for movement, any sign that the other Papyrus is there. The mirrors have to switch back around eventually and then they'll all be able to see the Reals again. And then at least they can go back to keeping the mirrors smashed and they can just...not think about it. Out of sight, out of mind. He's always been a fan of that.

"and yeah, i noticed. you, uh...you made a friend, huh? that's...good, bro. who was it?"

Please don't say Sans or Papyrus...

"that's why i came by, though. i wanted to, uh. make sure you were..."

He can't stand it. He crosses the room, picks up the mirror and turns it around so that it faces the wall. They can't see Sans and Papyrus, but Sans doesn't want to see any Mirrors. Not now. Not for a good while. Maybe not forever.

"...you were okay. cause, you know, some of them are kinda...kinda unpleasant."

He's still not looking at Papyrus when he says it. He's still staring at the mirror's silvered back.

[everyonecanbekind]

Suspicious. That wary look at the mirror; did Sans see something he didn't mean to? Whatever it is, Papyrus registers that it's bothering Sans openly. Which is...unusual. And very sad to think about. Obviously, Sans would come to his very cool brother to be comforted, but...the mirror is practically being absorbed into Sans' eye sockets.

"MAKE SURE I'M OKAY? NEVER FEAR, BROTHER! I, YOUR AMAZING BROTHER PAPYRUS, AM ALWAYS OKAY! IN FACT, I AM ONLY BETTER NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE!"

Papyrus maneuvers toward the end of his bed, where a small trunk lays shut. It's opened and a large, blue blanket is pulled out-- heavy, warm, and comfortable. It was asked for around the time that he came back from a mishap with death. The weight felt...comfortable, when things often felt a little uncomfortable. It smells of tomatoes and freshly cleaned linens. A mandatory smell on all of Papyrus' favorite fabrics.

"WE HAVE NOT BEEN STARGAZING IN SOME TIME! DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TELESCOPE? HAS IT, ER, BEEN CLEANED RECENTLY?" He gives a sheepish, suspicious look. The last time he placed his eye to it, there was a hil-arious ring of red around his eye. Unnecessary!!

And blankets only make everything better. The heavy cloth is tucked under his arm effortlessly. He gives Sans a somewhat understanding gaze. An invitation to talk, but not forcing his hand. In his excitement, the tall skeleton completely forgets about answering Sans' primary question.

[punful]

He leans back against the desk, not quite able to meet Papyrus's gaze. He knows this isn't like him. He's supposed to be so much better than this. He's not supposed to worry his brother.

lie to me as you always have

His hands go deeper into his pockets and he leans more heavily against the desk, back to the mirror.

"yeah, heh. you're...always okay."

It's a constant, except when it's not. But it sounds like Papyrus hasn't had to see any of the unpleasant Mirrors. That's good.

He looks up abruptly at the suggestion, eyesockets widening a little.

"stargazing? ...could we? i'd...i'd really like that. and heh, don't worry, i cleaned it. don't know how that red ink even got there."

Outside, outside where there's stars and no mirrors and open air. It's the perfect idea. Trust Papyrus to come up with it.

[everyonecanbekind]

Papyrus smiles a somewhat knowing smile, which is covered by a slightly cheeky grin. Another successful idea, procured by the great Papyrus. Part of him is curious-- because who wouldn't be curious as to why their brother is suddenly showing signs of fear in front of reflective surfaces?

But...Sans would talk to him when he's ready. Papyrus can trust that.

"EXCELLENT! COME ON, LET US GO GET YOUR FRESHLY CLEANED TELESCOPE AND WE CAN GO!! SHOULD I PACK US A SNACK? MAYBE A CONTAINER OF SPAGHETTI?"

Papyrus steps past Sans to the door and extends his bright, red, gloved hand to his brother. Eager to calm Sans down from whatever's frightened him, or upset him...whatever it may be.

He knows that they can overcome anything if they do it together, after all.

[punful]

They'd agreed, hadn't they? At least sort of. Papyrus had practically begged Sans to come talk to him when he was feeling...like this. Sans hasn't been all that good at keeping that promise--he never is--but he's...

Screw it. He just needs to be near his brother right now. That's okay, right?

He smiles and takes Papyrus's hand.

"yeah, let's do it. and spaghetti sounds great."

It's just a matter of grabbing the telescope from his room, and fortunately he has taken great pains to keep every mirror in there smashed. No chance of accidentally seeing anything, or being seen. He's been trying not to wonder what became of the Mirror Sans. He vanished after the fight, and Sans hasn't seen him since. Not that he's been looking.

Good riddance, honestly.

"i'd say let's go to the roof but...heh, that's an awful lot of stairs."

He could teleport, but that's not the sort of thing you just spring on people. Whatever. Out in the courtyard is fine.

He leads Papyrus down that way and doesn't let go the whole time.

[everyonecanbekind]

Sans takes his hand, and he allows himself to be led down the hall, bending a little at his hip to keep his hand intertwined with Sans'. His brother is reaching-- reaching for normality. The taller brother has always guessed that Sans does this when he hides his problems; suffer alone, and then try and cover it up with the blanket of reality, which, for the brothers, is usually pretty straightforward and simple.

In front of Sans' door, he moves to release the hand so Sans can go get his telescope. Seeing Sans calm down is a sight better than the little monster that walked into his room initially. It makes Papyrus let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Seeing Sans so on edge leaves him feeling a little nervous himself.

"CAN YOU CARRY THE TELESCOPE?" His voice booms in the hallway unintentionally. Trying to save a little bit of time, he adjusts the blanket in his arm easily. "I SHALL GATHER SOME OF THE LEFTOVER SPAGHETTI I MADE FOR BREAKFAST!! WE COULD MEET IN THE COURTYARD?"

[punful]

Sans gathers up the scope and pauses.

"meet?"

True, trying to carry the telescope one-handed is gonna be...virtually impossible. And Papyrus is already carrying stuff. But...

Sans gives his head a quick shake. He's being pathetic. He lets go.

"yeah. i'll get set up and you can meet me. sounds good, bro."

Nothing's going to happen in the five minutes they're apart. It's fine. Being ridiculous is just going to worry Papyrus more, after all.

[everyonecanbekind]

Papyrus offers his signature pose, though burdened with the giant blanket. One hand on his chest, and the other trying to find his hip past the blanket...it's a little disorganized looking, but he's trying so hard.

"THAT SOUNDS WONDERFUL! I WILL BRING THE SNACKS AND MEET YOU OUTSIDE, BROTHER! DO NOT FALL ASLEEP BEFORE I ARRIVE!!!"

He gives Sans a half-serious, half-joking glare. Because who could fall asleep outside in a matter of seconds? Sans. Definitely. Without a doubtedly. Absolutely.

Before he leaves, he flashes Sans one of his brightest smiles. There's no doubt that this excursion was planned to benefit Sans and help him. But...there's something to be said of how much Papyrus enjoys spending time with his favorite pun-loving brother.

Even if he hates the puns.

[punful]

It's fine. It'll be fine. It's not like anything terrible ever happened when Sans left Papyrus alone for a little while, right? Haha.

...He can't think like that. He can't be like this, because he can't watch Papyrus all the time. It's not fair to Papyrus, it's overprotective, it's stupid, it's not even feasible. Stupid. He's being stupid.

"heh. no promises, bro."

No promises.

i-i'll never bother you again. i promise.

He forces himself not to think about it. As soon as Papyrus closes the door, Sans teleports himself and his scope out to the courtyard. There's a good spot between the flowerbeds where they've been stargazing before, nice flat ground for the telescope's tripod and a clear view of the skies all around. He focuses on setting up the telescope. It's a bit of an involved process, positioning the tripod and adjusting the legs, shifting around some eyepieces (and wiping off some stray red ink with his sleeve).

He likes telescopes. Years ago when he still made plans for what he would do when he reached the Surface, getting his hands on a good telescope was on the list. One of those motorized ones, so you can just hit a button and it'll go find something neat all on its own. No need to orient the thing. Buy some really good eyepieces, some filters...maybe see about getting into astrophotography or something.

Stupid, pointless. Or, hell, maybe he actually does it. Maybe there have been timelines where they spend so much time on the Surface that Sans actually gets to check a few things off the list. Maybe he buys a great telescope, maybe he sees all the things he's only ever read about--sunspots, auroras, nebulae, galaxies.

Doesn't matter. But at least it's distracting to think about while he waits for Papyrus. By the time Papyrus arrives, Sans is already looking through the scope at something. Some star, fake of course. Better than stones in a ceiling, at least.

[everyonecanbekind]

Papyrus can soon be seen sprinting from the mansion-- the blanket in his arm and a large looking box in the other-- closer inspection reveals it to be a...picnic basket?? Well loved would be a more apt description. He's yelling for Sans in the distance, looking around aimlessly in a somewhat endearing kind of way.

"SANS!!! YOU HAVE NOT FALLEN ASLEEP, HAVE YOU?!"

Eventually, Papyrus spots the telescope and a conscious Sans next to it. Even in the darkness, you can see his expression lighten tremendously-- Sans isn't asleep!

"YOU DID NOT FALL ASLEEP!! TRULY, WE SHOULD CELEBRATE! WITH CELEBRATORY SPAGHETTI!"

The box is set down, and he reaches into it for a second, and then pulls out a small plastic plate, seran wrapped with a....

...with a hot dog. Just one, on the plate. A full bottle of ketchup is withdrawn after that. Papyrus has never enjoyed 'hot dogs' (they remind him too strongly of hot cats, which he's tried and hated!!!), but...Sans likes them, doesn't he?

"I AM....NOT SURE HOW THIS SLIPPED INTO MY BOX, BUT REST ASSURED IT WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN!!!" He tries to sound reassuring. "I BROUGHT ENOUGH SPAGHETTI TO MAKE UP FOR THIS ONE AND ONLY SLIP UP, HOWEVER!!! PLEASE, DO NOT BE TOO DISAPPOINTED."

Four large tubs of spaghetti are withdrawn from the box, as well as two forks and a small, dimly lit lantern that he had almost forgotten to take-- just to see by on the ground, but not bright enough to block out the stars. He takes the blanket and opens it easily, holding it to Sans to wear.

"ALSO, THIS BLANKET IS MUCH TOO SMALL FOR ONE AS TALL AND GREAT AS MYSELF, SO...YOU SHOULD WEAR IT INSTEAD!"

...a blatant lie. The blanket is enormous.

[punful]

He's genuinely distracted by stargazing by the time Papyrus shows up. He snaps back to reality when he hears Papyrus shout and looks up at his approach. Everything sort of comes crashing back at once.

Papyrus is at his side before Sans can even answer. Sans puts his grin back on.

"yeah. heh. it's a real miracle, right?"

Smells like spaghetti and brotherly love. Sans is expecting several boxes of spaghetti to come out of that basket, but the first thing Papyrus pulls out is...

Oh.

Sans blinks.

A hotdog? And an entire bottle of ketchup? Well, there's basically no way this is an accident. This is also virtually unheard of. Papyrus never encourages Sans to eat the things he likes, because the things he life are godawful and unhealthy.

Sans must be being a lot more obvious than he'd hoped.

"oh, well, hey. happens to the best of us, right? don't worry about it. guess i'll just have to take those off your hands, huh?"

His grin brightens a bit as he munches the hotdog. Man. A late snack was just what he needed. He shifts the scope a bit as Papyrus unleashes the spaghetti. Wonderland's skies move in sort of the same way as the real night sky is supposed to. It all sort of gradually rotates toward the West, usually, which means that stars leave the field of vision after a minute or so.

"i've been looking at this bright reddish one. heh, it's red for real this time, not cause of red ink. it's pretty cool..."

He trails off as Papyrus holds out a blanket that could probably double as a ship's sail. Sans stares at it for a moment.

This is too much. Papyrus is being too nice. Sans is...he's supposed to do better. Papyrus is supposed to believe Sans is fine. Or if he picks up on anything, it should just be to tell Sans to cheer up, to stop being lazy. Sans deals with things by making his brother happy, because seeing Papyrus happy makes Sans happy. Read him a story, train with him or just sort of pretend to, let Papyrus carry him around under the pretense of exercise. Do Papyrus things.

Stargazing is Sans's thing. Ketchup and hotdogs and oversized blankets are Sans's things.

"too small, huh."

It's too much.

He closes his eyesockets and Papyrus is swinging a bone right toward his face, smashing the mirror that separates them. He opens his eyesockets and Papyrus is still holding out that blanket.

Sans takes it and drapes it around himself. True to form, he's basically swimming in it. Half of it ends up just piling around his feet. It's nice. It's comfortable. It feels safe. It's too much.

"our mirrors tried to kill each other."

It just spills out. Tumbles right out. Stupid. It's so stupid. This could be a normal, nice little moment if not for stupid Sans and his stupid little fears and hang-ups and total inability to believe himself when he tells himself that nothing matters. Sans, who's so good at keeping quiet, because when he doesn't keep quiet he ruins things.

They're Mirrors, they don't even matter. They're not Real. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

He turns back to the telescope.

"did you, uh. did you know that stars turn red when they get old? they start out yellow or blue. then they get old and they get bigger and turn red. means they're cooling down. like. like with fire. how it burns out and leaves red embers. you know?"

[everyonecanbekind]

Papyrus is feeling quite accomplished with himself. How could Sans be upset with all of these, his favorite things? The tall skeleton had promised himself he wouldn't be nosey every time Sans had a problem, but...sometimes, hiding your concerns is hard.

Papyrus hiding concerns is simply unheard of.

They come out thoughtfully, but Papyrus worries more often than he even realizes. For his brother, a monster who has taken on a world unforgiving for longer than Papyrus could possibly begin to imagine. He worries without even realizing it, sometimes. Sometimes, he realizes it too late. Sometimes, he walks in with worry.

Worry-- is it worry pressing into his skull now? Throbbing unpleasantly? Aching viciously? Our mirrors tried to kill eachother. What does that mean? They...

...

His face softens and he watches Sans-- had Sans seen it all happen? Is that why he was afraid of the mirrors? The puzzle pieces slide almost effortlessly into place. Slowly absorbing the information, he makes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Tried to kill each other.

What does that even mean? Tried to...kill each other with kindness? With brotherly affections??

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? ARE..." his words escape him, again. He has to say something-- say something preferrably comforting. Maybe Sans only wants to talk about the stars. It is why they came out. His brother toddles into his explaination-- stars that turn different colors, and he's sure that Sans has said this before at least once, and...

...he finds himself stunned that a mirror version of himself could-- or that a mirror version of Sans could...

But...Sans has no reason to lie. Not now-- and why would he? Papyrus trusts him so implicitly and so sincerely, anything outside of the protective realm of absolute trust is not even worth giving time to. But then, how did it happen? What happened? Would Sans tell him if he asked? Should he?

Could he?

"SANS..." he can't just deny what's been said. Sans wouldn't joke about something like this. But...he's stumped. Confused. Papyrus sits there, a plate of spaghetti in his lap with a fork on top of it.

[punful]

"i'm sorry." He starts saying it before Papyrus even finishes talking.

"i'm sorry. that was stupid. shouldn't have...i'm sorry. forget i said anything."

Ruined a perfectly good night. Way to go, Sans. They were going to skate past it, dance around it, ignore it like always. They've gotten so good at it, at meaningful looks and small gestures, at pretending. A sock left on the floor can just be an ongoing joke instead of a multi-layered conversation; instead of self-commentary; instead of Sans's total inability to function and Papyrus's unrelenting inability to let Sans just give up.

Yeah, Sans never tells anybody anything.

He remembers hiding around a corner and slumping against the wall. It wasn't like him to eavesdrop. It was an accident. The annoyance and hurt in Papyrus's voice like a condemnation. And then both of them smiling when they saw each other again, so they could go on pretending.

Sans pulls the blanket over his head like a hood, steadfastly staring through the telescope as the star skitters out of the field of vision, leaving a black void. Whatever.

"just. don't worry about it. it's fine. we're fine."

[everyonecanbekind]

Papyrus watches as Sans clumsily tries to pick up the pieces. He can't even fathom what Sans is trying to take back, but the words have been laid bare.

In the middle of processing everything, Sans cocoons himself into the blanket that Papyrus brought.

"THAT IS NOT WHAT I'VE BROUGHT THAT BLANKET FOR," he tries, moving closer to Sans and simply...sitting next to him. The blanket stays where it is, and Papyrus doesn't move him. Nothing about Sans seems fine right now, and it hasn't since they decided to go stargazing.

It took a few moments before Papyrus could speak again.

"I THINK THAT THE STARS HERE ARE VERY GREAT!! SURELY THERE MUST BE TRIBULATIONS IN SPACE," Papyrus says, looking towards the heavens. "PERHAPS NOT THE SAME THAT WE FACE, BUT...WE ALL MUST BURN OUT AT SOME POINT."

A shooting star whips across the sky. Papyrus wishes Sans could have seen it.

"BUT WE ARE GREATER THAN STARS, BROTHER! BECAUSE EVEN IF WE BURN OUT, WE CAN BRING EACH OTHER BACK FROM THE EMBERS. WE HAVE EACH OTHER, AFTER ALL!"

He has questions. Wonders if Sans is afraid for himself or for Papyrus. Doesn't understand at several key points. Wonders if he ever will, or if Sans would even want him to, but he can be here now, watching stars with a brother made of embers.

[punful]

He hears Papyrus scoot closer. Sans doesn't move. He just keeps staring at nothing through the scope. The blanket and the telescope are doing a pretty good job of obscuring his face. He doesn't trust himself to keep the usual grin right now.

"yeah. sorry. it's comfy."

They could sit on it instead. Do something useful. Be brothers and chat about stars and eat spaghetti. Sans doesn't know why he's doing this. Why it's so hard to...

To just be normal. Even his own brand of normal.

Papyrus talks and Sans stares at nothing. His grip tightens on the edges of the blanket. His chest hitches a little. The more Papyrus says, the harder it is to breathe. We all must burn out. Embers. We have each other. We have each other.

My brother, Sans, would never hurt me. He only says nice things.

"god, bro." His voice is quiet, raw.

Do you fear me, Sans?

It's hard to breathe. Funny. He doesn't even have lungs.

We have each other.

There's nothing in the scope now, not even distant stars or the faint fuzz of galaxies or star clusters. Just black. Just darkness.

"i'm..."

He's what? What was he even going to say?

I'm not afraid of you.

He abandons the pretense, tips his head forward and just rests his forehead against the eyepiece. Closes his eyesockets. Stares at a different kind of nothing. Because skeletons are empty. There's nothing to see. It's a joke. It's funny.

Are you hiding something from me, Sans?

"i can't do this." His voice is faint.

He's never said it out loud.

"i can't do this, bro." He shakes his head. He sits down next to his brother, pulls the blanket tighter, doesn't look at him. Doesn't look at anything.

"i wanted to forget. ignore it. i'm supposed to be good at that. supposed to let you believe the best of people."

He swears, sometimes it's like he can't do a goddamn thing right. And this is supposed to be one of the very few things he's good at.

"i'm..."

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it...

"i'm scared."

[everyonecanbekind]

Over the blanket, Papyrus' arms wrap around Sans gently. Holding Sans to his side, resting his head on top of Sans'-- this has never happened. Sans doesn't just give up halfway through anything, no matter how lazy he is, and not about something as important as this is suddenly becoming.

What did he see?

The sudden admission of fear leaves Papyrus feeling a little raw-- a delicate cycle of emotions twisted up like a dish towel.

"YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE SCARED," he says, trying to both sound assuring and maintain his composure. Sans is hurt. He's hurting in a way that bandages and healing magic won't fix. Turmoil threatens to surface, and Papyrus keeps it at bay.

Do what, exactly? Papyrus looks down at the spaghetti and eyeballs the telescope-- perhaps it was too much? A thought that he hadn't let cross his mind. Maybe Sans just needed sleep? This has happened before-- Sans just needed to be alone, and he would get through his problems and be fine.

And everything would be fine.

"I WILL ALWAYS BELIEVE THAT THERE IS GOOD IN THIS WORLD. IN ANY WORLD," he says, rubbing Sans' back quietly. "REGARDLESS OF WHAT OTHERS TELL ME AND EVEN WHEN THEY ARE CRUEL. DO YOU KNOW WHY?"

He won't let Sans answer. Papyrus continues talking, as if he's talking to himself.

"I COULD HAVE BEEN HERE ALONE-- OR WORSE. THERE ARE MANY POSSIBILITIES OF WHAT COULD HAPPEN, BUT...SOMEONE GAVE YOU TO ME. AND ME TO YOU," he says, his eyes shutting.

"THE WORLD HAS GIVEN ME A BROTHER WHO CARES MORE DEEPLY THAN ANY OTHER I KNOW. EVEN IF HE INSISTS AGAINST THE NOTION OF DOING HIS OWN LAUNDRY. OR PICKING UP HIS SOCKS.

OR FEEDING THE PET ROCK.

OR STAYING AWAKE LONG ENOUGH TO COMPLETE AN ENTIRE SENTRY SHIFT.

THEY'VE GIVEN ME A VERY GREAT BROTHER TO MATCH MY OWN GREATNESS TO, AND SO I BELIEVE THAT THIS WORLD THAT GAVE YOU TO ME, CANNOT BE BAD.

BECAUSE YOU'RE IN IT!"

He tries to peek into the blanket. Won't force it off, won't take it away, but...he sits there, feeling more content with himself now that all of his thoughts are laid out.

"HONESTLY, BROTHER, IF YOU WERE NOT AFRAID OF SOME THINGS, I WOULD BE MORE WORRIED. IT IS OKAY TO VOCALIZE YOURSELF!! I WILL BE HERE TO LISTEN WHENEVER YOU NEED ME!"

[punful]

Papyrus hugs him, pulls him close. Sans lets him. Gives in and just sort of sinks against Papyrus, as if he can't even hold himself up anymore. This feels awful. It's hard to breathe. He feels nauseous.

Usually when he gets like this he has the good sense to be alone. Usually he has no choice but to be alone.

"heh. ha. no i'm not."

He can't be scared on top of everything else. That's just one more goddamn layer to push through just to make himself move, and it's already so damn hard, all the time. He can't be scared because he has a brother to look after. There are kids to look after. There's Toriel to look after. There are endless timelines to face. There's Wonderland to face. He doesn't get to be scared.

He gives a shaky, almost-laugh as Papyrus lists his faults, because it's familiar, it's not mean, it's just familiar, it's normal, thank god it's normal. It's exactly what he needed. Just a little speck of something normal.

It's like something releases inside him, and for a second after Papyrus finishes speaking he just breathes. It's a little easier. A little. Papyrus is here. Papyrus loves him. Papyrus is so damn good.

All at once Sans just doesn't have the energy to hold it back.

"they tried to kill each other."

He shouldn't, should just agree that the world must be good, that everything must be good, but he just...can't anymore. Can't pretend.

"for real, bro. not like a joke. not like an accident. i saw the whole thing. heard everything. it was like watching a movie. i couldn't do anything."

Not that that's unfamiliar. He can never do anything.

"i think they hate each other. and i'd...kinda fooled myself, i guess. infinite timelines and infinite possibilities. but i fooled myself into thinking that...that was the one thing that wouldn't ever be different. that was the one thing that didn't change. that no matter how many versions of us there are, we'd always...we'd..."

He's such an idiot. Abruptly he thinks of Gaster, because he knows what Gaster would say.

UNSCIENTIFIC. A SCIENTIST SHOULD ALWAYS CONSIDER ALL POSSIBILITIES.

"it shouldn't matter. but it...does."

And it clicks, suddenly, why it matters so much, why it scares him. Because it's...it's everything he feared, isn't it? It's Papyrus being pushed so far that he gives up. It's Sans who doesn't care for real, who lets apathy and nihilism turn into cruelty. How often in all those timelines did he think that nothing really matters, that he could do anything, say anything, because the next Reset would render it obsolete? How often did he shy away from the very idea, because he knew where that path would lead?

It's both of them pushed to extremes. But still recognizable. Still Sans and Papyrus.

"i'm sorry, bro." He sounds exhausted. He sinks more heavily against Papyrus. "ruined a perfectly good night."

[everyonecanbekind]

"YOU HAVE RUINED NOTHING, SANS!" Papyrus rests his hand on Sans' head. He needs you.

His arms are heavy on Sans, resting his full weight. There's...pressure, always, in being overwhelmingly positive. Pressure that Papyrus doesn't even acknowledge half the time.

"I...AM SORRY YOU HAD TO WITNESS THAT," he begins, taking a deep breath in and exhaling out some of the nervousness in his system. Sans wouldn't lie about this-- but Papyrus' system refuses to acknowledge that he could come to try and dust his own brother, even under trying circumstances.

His mind rotates back to conversations he's had with his mirror. About Sans. Actually seeing his own mirror was strange only in that his mirror didn't have his battle body on-- which he was thoroughly reprimanded for (the Battle Body is representative of so many amazing and inspiring traits!!). They talked about Sans, and...his mirror mentioned that Sans had reached out. He wanted to be friends.

Papyrus hadn't been surprised. He boasted and bragged about his brother. My brother, Sans, is very great!! He would never hurt me! He remembers writing it against the mirror in happiness. His mirror gave him a somewhat blank look, a level of apprehension. He may be lazy, but aside from his puns, he is filled with kindness. Despite the secrets that he keeps...I know he cares.

Papyrus sits silently as his mind rotates through the conversation he had. 'He cares more than anyone. Except, perhaps, me!' His mirror seemed confused, saying that he could never care for his Sans in such a way.

'Caring for my brother is just one of my many, many talents! It is what helps make me very great, after all!'

His mirror laughed. Whether sarcastically or real, or sad, or fake...Papyrus found himself smiling, too.

'You can rely on him when you need someone to talk to. He will help you as best he can, surely.'

"IT DOES MATTER," his voice is heavy. He's confused. He could never hurt Sans-- either Sans. Any Sans.

So how could his mirror?

"Why would they do such a thing...?" His thoughts quickly spill out. Wouldn't want Sans to relive any of what he witnessed, but...he wagers that another meeting with a mirror might be in order later. But not now. Inhale. Exhale.

"FOR NOW, THERE IS A SKY THAT AWAITS A SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION!! PROBABLY A LONG ONE!! STOP HOGGING THE TELESCOPE!!!"

[punful]

"yeah. me too. shoulda just...walked away when i saw what was happening."

Should have pretended it wasn't happening. Put it out of his mind. Kept walking. Instead he had to press both hands to the glass, write frantically, clamp his mouth shut to keep from yelling out loud at them to just stop. Stupid. It's not like him to beg. But it was just...it was different than finding dust in the snow. It was different than watching monsters die on Alphy's myriad video screens. It was different than standing in a golden hall and throwing the very last of himself into some pointless endeavor. It was different than the prospect of hope and peace and then a flower showing up to ruin it, a flower ripping out his soul, his brother's soul, everyone's souls.

Maybe because he's used to all that. Has seen it all so many times before that none of it is particularly shocking anymore, even if he doesn't technically remember when it happens again and again. But this? Has never happened. Sans has never been so cruel to his brother, not even when he was little enough not to know any better. And Papyrus has never tried to kill him.

Papyrus's question makes him shrink. He covers his face with his hands. Papyrus's voice is so small. Sans hates hearing his brother like that. This is why he never says anything, this is why he's not supposed to tell Papyrus the truth. All he's done is hurt his brother.

"i...i don't know. sans just kept talking and..."

But Papyrus speaks again, and there it is. There's the familiarity, the normalcy. There's the offer to just pretend again. Move on, ignore it, pretend it didn't happen, pretend things are fine, pretend he's okay, pretend, pretend.

He takes a second. Breathes. Stays in the blanket, stays in the dark. Breathes. Forces himself to smile, even though Papyrus can't even see it. Summons up enough energy to keep pretending.

"...did...you know that...stars can come in pairs? two stars form and they...circle each other. revolve around each other. for pretty much their whole lives. usually one star is smaller than the other. a dwarf star. stars shrink like that when they're..."

Dying. Burning out.

"...older. the two stars feed on each other's energy. their gravity keeps them both in balance with each other. it's, uh. it's called a binary system."

[everyonecanbekind]

"PERHAPS THEY WOULD BENEFIT FROM OUR AMAZING EXAMPLE?" He says hopefully, looking at the mass of blanket beside him. "MAYBE THEY DO NOT KNOW HOW TO BE EXCELLENT BROTHERS AS WE ARE!! AND WE ARE VERY EXCELLENT!"

Papyrus can practically hear Sans faking a smile under that blanket. An unfortunate side effect of providing a somewhat familiar ground to walk on is that Sans will continue doing what he is most familiar with-- hiding behind a horrible, sad smile and masking his feelings. It can't be healthy. Most people could be fooled by such a clever disguise, but...

...Papyrus finds himself leaning against Sans a bit as the smaller skeleton explains binary systems, unsure how to explain the eerie similarity it has to the skeleton brothers.

Maybe Sans knows already?

Papyrus is slightly disheartened with himself for a moment-- the goal was to distract and assist in making his brother feel better.

He feels his worries crawling on his back.

"THEY ARE CERTAINLY QUITE BEAUTIFUL!! AND THEY'LL NEVER BE ALONE!

LIKE...US."

He's not sure what to say; not sure how to react, or how to feel about Sans' discovery on their mirrors. His words ring as true as they ever have. He's never meant anything less than what he's said about Sans and their brother-ship.

Papyrus just watches the stars. Perhaps, someday, he'll pair them up together and name them, and title them brothers and sisters.

Maybe Sans would like that.

[punful]

"yeah." He gives an exhausted sigh. "maybe."

Stars. Stars and space. Focus.

Honestly he didn't even mean to talk about binary systems. Didn't mean to think about something so...well, apropos. It was just the first thing that came to his head. Though...of course there are technical differences. Scientific differences. It's not a perfect metaphor, but then nothing is.

Never be alone. Heh.

When the star with more mass dies, it usually takes the smaller star with it.

"you...callin' me beautiful, bro? aww. i'm flattered."

Jokes are familiar. He can almost always muster up enough energy for jokes.

It's fine. Maybe he can just forget the Mirrors. Maybe they don't have to talk about it ever again. Right.