Chapter Text
SANS?
BROTHER, CAN YOU HEAR ME?
* *
it won't work.
* *
PLEASE.
COME BACK.
I...
* *
it's better this way.
* *
I need you.
* *
nobody needs you.
Even after everything... Even after all she’d done for him, after all everything everyone had done for him...
This was it.
And even after years of experience with this,
Alphys couldn’t push down the pain that tugged at her soul. The agony.
She should have done something more.
She should’ve—
“It’s not your fault.”
She wiped at her eyes, and turned her eyes back to the other skeleton. It was just the two of them, tonight. Like usual. And like usual, he could read her like a book.
She hated that it was so easy for him to see through her. (But, she supposed, while her experience was with science and medicine, his experience was with that.)
Still, she managed a watery smile.
“I know,” she lied.
Lies, all lies. All she ever did was lie.
Papyrus’s face was a mask, now. There were bags under his eyes, deceiving the lack of sleep that plagued him. Long-dried tears stuck to his cheekbones; he had no tears left to give, after all.
...Ironic.
He was a spitting image of his brother.
Without saying anything, he rose to his feet from the chair he’d sat upon. Then he made his way over.
And he embraced her.
Neither of them said anything.
But despite Papyrus’s outward appearance, his soul was obvious in its thoughts. It wasn’t hard for Alphys to hear what it was saying to her:
I know how you feel.
And she knew he did.
She hugged him back, and for a while, she just cried into his scarf.
She cried until she couldn’t anymore, while Papyrus merely kept her close, comforted her.
She knew this wasn’t the end of it. She still had more work to do.
She had to be brave, not weak. Not be a coward anymore.
...
But,
it didn’t hurt to take a moment like this one.
“I’m sorry,” Alphys whispered, when she finally pulled away of her own accord. Papyrus just smiled softly, likely only for her. Just her, not because he wanted to. His arm was still on her shoulder.
“It’s alright.”
“B-but y-your... Your scarf,” was all she supplied with a voice crack and sniffle, “I—i-it’s all g-gross now...”
The skeleton stepped back, letting his arm fall at his side. “It’s just a scarf, Alphys. It can be washed, if the need really came.”
The lizard monster just nodded shakily, clasping her hands and claws together.
Silence.
She didn’t hate silence, but, she knew Papyrus did.
So she said, “Th-thank you.”
Then, not to just fill the silence, and now with a bit more sincerity...
“Thank you, Papyrus.”
“...You’re welcome.”
With nothing else to say or do, Alphys made her way over the machine, checking it again. The number was still below his normal HP, and she figured at moment, he had a chance of dusting completely; already, she could see his body starting to break off into pieces. It was a matter of time.
She wasn’t an idiot (at least, she liked to think she wasn’t as much of an idiot as she used to be). He had Fallen Down long ago, and that alone had sealed in his fate.
...But...
She’d heard of something, once, long ago, from someone she once knew. Even if a monster had Fallen Down, if they had enough willpower, enough Hope, enough Determination within themselves... Then there was a chance they could come back.
Too much Determination was a bad thing for monsters. (She’d know that firsthand.) But, with just the right amount, even a monster, who normally wasn’t physical enough...
There was always just a small, sliver of a chance. It was a chance, though.
If Sans wanted to come back.
If he was Determined to, just enough...
Maybe...
Maybe he’d wake up.
Maybe she’d do something right by him, this time.
She could only hope.
They hovered over the button, mulling over everything in their head.
...
And yet, they couldn’t bring themselves to do it.
They just couldn’t.
He wouldn’t want that. He’d want everyone to be happy. He’d want his brother to be happy, for them to be happy, despite everything.
But they wouldn’t be happy, in a world without him.
...
They thought back, on what they’d suggested to Papyrus. They could suggest it to Alphys, too. Trade in themselves for him, somehow, some way. He couldn’t handle their Determination, they knew that, but...
Maybe, if they used just the right amount...
They wanted to risk it.
They needed to.
The next night came; the night it was expected to happen.
That night, everyone showed up. Even the former king had even shown up to pay his respects.
The room was despairingly quiet. No one even breathed—not that they needed to, other than Frisk, but still. And everyone was in their own state of grief.
Alphys was trying not to break down completely. Every so often, she’d sniff, though barely enough to shatter the silence completely.
Undyne stood beside her stiffly, seemingly fine, at first glance; but her face was a blank, yet bitter scowl. And if anyone was close enough to see, they’d be able to spot liquid just barely peeking out of the bottom of her single eye.
Toriel was in a similar state, though more obvious in her woes. She’d been crying a bit ago, and she had to fight hard to not burst into tears now. Frisk stuck by her like a magnet, crying silently into her robe, and Asgore practically hovered by his ex-wife and her adopted human child, perfectly still. He was supposedly the least likely to show his emotions about this at all, and yet, there was a deep, deep sadness etched on his face. Just plain, utter grief, for someone he hardly knew, but mourned even still.
Papyrus was the closest to the bed, just standing next to him. If no one else knew better, they’d probably say he was a statue. It wasn’t hard for him, either, seeing as he was a skeleton; he had no muscles. No reason to move at all.
And he truly didn’t have a reason to move. Even when Alphys came over to check the machine one last time; even when distantly, he heard her conclude his HP was still dropping; even when one by one, everyone said something akin to a condolence, or a eulogy of sorts; even when one by one those same people left when they were done, until it was just him in the room.
He had no reason to move from this spot.
He had no reason to leave altogether.
The silence, now, was suffocating him. It almost hurt.
But it could never hurt as much as actually talking, or moving, or leaving, or staying.
He recalled Alphys telling him, just a little while ago, before his health started dropping, that his brother did have a slim chance of waking up.
Even when Falling Down, there was always just that one chance, that one sliver of hope that they’d have enough Hope to wake up on their own. Alphys had said that’s what she had betted on sometimes herself. Just that silly chance.
...
And even now...
Papyrus smiled. He knew he was grasping at straws. He further proved this when he offhandedly thought of describing the silence as “deathly,” in his haste. It was dumb, but it somehow cheered him up, even if a little.
Sans would’ve made a joke about it.
He would’ve...
...
He would have done a lot of things. Not things that allowed him to stay in bed.
A lot of things, later on, in the future—if he got better. They were on the Surface, there’d be endless possibilities, endless things to do.
Maybe Sans would have traveled the world. Maybe he would’ve taken Papyrus with him, and they would have seen all the different places they could be in now, the world was huge now, maybe Sans would have realized that, maybe they would have gone to live somewhere else, perhaps by the ocean, where the sunsets were at their peak, Papyrus heard.
Maybe Sans would have hung out more with Frisk, and the others, and everyone would come over to their house and Papyrus would cook them the best meal they’d ever had, like he always did and would. Maybe Lady Asgore and King Asgore would have gotten back together. Maybe Flowery would have started being nice, and decided the world wasn’t as boring anymore, and he’d get his soul back, somehow.
Maybe, Sans would have fixed his telescope, or gotten a new one, and they could have found a field somewhere, and gazed at the stars. Together. Maybe they would have sat under the stars, and moon, and sun, and everything else, and just talked about their day with each other, and how good it was. Sans would have said his day had been okay, when he really meant it was amazing. And Papyrus would have just said as much right away.
Maybe...
Maybe, truly, Sans would have gotten better.
And maybe, Papyrus would have been right there with him, supporting him, helping him—accompanying him along the way.
Sans would have been okay.
...
But... That was...
Those were “would have’s.” Not “did happen’s.”
And it was Papyrus’s fault, for not letting them happen.
For giving up, even if he hadn’t meant to. For abandoning Sans, even if that was the last thing he’d wanted.
For not loving his brother, like he could have, even though he thought he had, with all of his soul and heart and everything.
“I’m sorry,” Papyrus spoke into the quiet, finally destroying it, for good. He didn’t care that his voice shook, or cracked, or even left him completely, in the end. He kept talking. “I’m sorry that I—I-I wasn’t there for you.”
Sans would have reassured him, telling him it was his fault instead, for not telling him.
“But it’s all my fault,” he choked, “it is. I should have—”
He cut himself off. The desperate part of him took over his guilty side.
“P-please, I—if you—if you can, please come back, I...”
Again, he stopped himself.
It wasn’t for him to decide.
If Alphys had been right,
Sans would have to wake up on his own.
If at all.
...
But maybe...
His thoughts were interrupted, as the door suddenly opened.
The two of them stood in front of the previously-separated rooms, now melded together. Gaster floated silently beside Sans, as the other stared at the door, almost looking through it.
It is time, the void-ridden monster said to him calmly, his voice stable, for now. They are waiting.
Sans’s hands shook, even though he kept them in his pockets. The door morphed and shook before him, and he felt something like apprehension fill him.
“...i’m...”
He turned his skull to Gaster, his normal grin twisted into a frown.
“i-i don’t know if i want to go. i know said i did, but, i—”
You have to.
“but—”
Gaster cut him off, resting a melting hand on his shoulder. You’ll be fine. I promise, you will be. Your brother will take care of you. Everyone will. And you’ll take care of him, and them for me, won’t you?
Sans hunched in on himself.
It is your choice, Gaster affirmed with finality, but please keep in mind: you will not be able to go back, truly, if you stay here. I know that from experience. Don’t risk regretting what you didn’t do. Do everything while you still can. There’s still time for you.
And yet, the skeleton glanced away, still appearing reluctant and uncertain.
“...what about you?” he rasped, at last, his voice scratchy.
The amorphous being lifted Sans’s chin gently, giving him a reassuring smile, as best he could in that form.
I’ll be fine, Sans, his voice echoed softly. Papyrus needs you more than I do.
Sans didn’t want to give up again, but...
But he’d be leaving Gaster, again.
He’d be joining a world he wasn’t sure he could live in, again, an unstable world he wasn’t sure he could survive in; a world that could be taken away from him at any given moment.
A world where Papyrus could be taken away, again.
...
But here, Papyrus wasn’t even present.
Here he couldn’t even see his brother anymore. Or anyone else. Or Frisk—even if he hated to admit that he missed them.
If he stayed here, it was a given he’d never come back. He’d never live the life he wanted.
He’d never see Papyrus again.
...
He wanted to see him, again.
He wanted the chance to live.
He wanted to live on the Surface, to experience all the things he couldn’t have before, under the stars and moon and sun, surrounded by the people he loved, the people that loved him.
He wanted to live with an entire world ahead of him, even an unstable world he wasn’t sure he could live in, a world that could be taken away.
He just wanted a chance.
He didn’t want to stay asleep, anymore.
He wanted to be awake, to see, and feel everything he could.
He wanted to live.
So, with one last look at the forgotten monster beside him, Sans grinned, and twisted the door open.
Frisk walked into the room slowly, their soul hovering on their cupped palms as they edged closer. Papyrus said nothing, at first, and watched them come over beside him, standing over Sans.
They turned their gaze to him, stony, in a way.
And then, they turned to the bedridden skeleton, letting their soul float over to his limp form.
“Frisk,” Papyrus began, trying not to sound too scared. They were scared too, if they were being honest, though they didn’t say so. They didn’t know what was going to happen to their soul, or their friend.
They just wanted him back.
So they willed that.
Time paused around them, as the soul bobbed over Sans’s lifeless body.
They willed him to Continue.
They wouldn’t Reset, they promised. He could live, now.
They cared about him, they said.
Their soul stopped glowing. The color fading.
They turned to look at Papyrus, who stood frozen, still in the middle of being concerned about their actions.
They wouldn’t take his brother from him, they promised.
Sans could come back.
He could live, now.
Without them.
When time pressed on, Papyrus realized Frisk had disappeared.
Sans had stopped moving; rather, he’d stopped dusting, the flakes of bone no longer flakes, but reforming back.
Something in Papyrus’s soul reignited, just as his brother’s eyesockets fluttered open, and he turned to him dazedly, a bit confused and seemingly relieved to see him, and alive.
Papyrus choked on air.
Then, he pulled Sans against his chest, sobbing into him.
“I’m so sorry,” he found himself saying, though it didn’t mean anything, as Sans reassured him by hugging him back, and saying it wasn’t his fault. Papyrus clung to him, so, so afraid he’d still disappear, and all that he had left of him was a pile of ashes and his memory to live on in himself.
“’m not gonna disappear,” Sans promised him, pressing his teeth to the top of his younger brother’s skull as best he could, weak and tired. “’m not gonna leave you again, Papy. promise.”
The tears just kept coming even so, and he probably inadvertently subjected Sans to them, as Papyrus nuzzled his face against him further. “No.”
“...no?”
“I’m not leaving you again.”
He didn’t wait for a response, gently but firmly increasing his grip on him, making sure to never, ever let go again.
“I will never leave you again,” he whispered, to reinforce it; make sure Sans understood, for certain. Make sure Sans knew how important he was to him. “I love you. I will never abandon you again. I promise.”
“you didn’t abandon me.”
Papyrus didn’t try to argue, though he knew better.
He’d left Sans alone when he needed him most. Because he didn’t know what was wrong. He didn’t want to know what was wrong, because he was scared. Scared of losing him, if he messed up.
But if he never tried, he would have lost him anyway.
And he almost did.
Papyrus almost screwed up, and he knew that.
He...
He was shaking, wasn’t he?
Sans proved to him as much, as he pulled away slightly, trying to steady his arms. “hey,” he murmured, grinning softly at him, “don’t worry. i’m here now. that’s what’s important.”
...Yeah.
Yeah, that was more important.
“Just promise me something, please,” he added, just slightly raspy, this time. Sans hesitated, but not for long. He nodded. “Promise... You’ll tell me, if you want to sleep?”
Sans knew what he was referring to. And he responded, “i already did.”
“But I want you to keep it this time.”
The shorter avoided his gaze.
“I want things to be better. I want you to be better. Please.”
Papyrus breathed out shakily.
“...Please, tell me if...”
If you’re “tired.”
If you “want to sleep.”
If you want to lie down, and never, ever wake up again.
“...i don’t.”
The younger skeleton gave his brother a look, not believing. But Sans smiled, genuine, surprising him.
“i’ll try not to be so tired, at least,” he affirmed.
“You don’t have to try.”
“still.”
A pause.
“...it’s... i know ‘s not gonna be easy, Pap. but i do want to try. there’ll be days where... y’know.”
Papyrus nodded, slowly. He did know. Sans would still want to sleep, sometimes, and not get up again.
“...but i’ll get up again.”
Would he?
“i promise.”
Papyrus met his gaze,
and he found he truly, really meant it. His soul said so. Every part of him said so.
“i want to live,” Sans said softly, “i want to see more of the surface.”
Papyrus must have started crying again, for Sans reached up to wipe a tear away.
“i want to stay with you, Papyrus; ‘cause you’re my brother. and i love you, so, so much.”
In return, the taller just nodded slightly. He didn’t have the words to say it anymore, but he loved Sans too, so, so much.
And he’d help him stay, when he couldn’t find it in himself to. Help him stay awake, help him live.
They’d see more of the Surface, and the stars, and life itself.
Sans would be okay.
Not “would have been.”
He will be okay, Papyrus promised himself, and Sans alike.
He hugged him again, just for good measure. No—because it felt right. Because his brother meant more to him than anything else.
And Sans hugged him back, still grinning from nonexistent ear to nonexistent ear, for he felt the same.
For he knew he’d be okay, too.