Chapter Text
Waking up wasn’t something Papyrus expected to do ever again. The burn of bones breaking him into a million little pieces was all too soon, all too recent. He didn’t expect there to be any form of recovery from it. He didn’t expect his body to be fully in tact or to notice everything was perfectly in place in his dimly lit room.
He didn’t expect any of that, much less waking up and knowing immediately where he was. Snowdin had been home for so long, filled with memories of him and his brother. It was the place he’d always called home, yet they’d abandoned.
Still, he was back in that old bedroom, staring at a familiar wall, with no explanation as to why. Leaping out from under the sheets, Papyrus bolted out into the hallway.
“SANS! SANS!” He called out, hopeful that this meant something was different.
Perhaps, by some odd miracle, their trip had forced things to change. His brother could be perfectly healthy now and the problem on the surface could be resolved. Somehow, they’d have it all figured out and fixed.
So, Papyrus was hopeful. Even as he careened through their old home, looking for the brother he’d always known would be there, he called out. Electric excitement filled the air as he searched.
It came to a screeching halt when he actually pushed open the door into Sans’ room. Well, it used to be Sans’ bedroom, even if it didn’t look it. All that greeted Papyrus was a suspiciously neat room. One twin bed with perfectly straightened sheets and a plain nightstand stared back at the tall skeleton.
It didn’t make sense. Papyrus clearly recalled his brother’s room being a mess more often than not. It wasn’t even this clean when they’d just moved. It didn’t even look like anyone had slept in the bed for years.
Slowly descending down the stairs, Papyrus actually looked at their home. There was no mess to be seen, no offending sock or notes. Everything was perfectly orderly as if it had been recently cleaned.
There really wasn’t a solid explanation, not in Papyrus’ mind. He hadn’t cleaned this, not that he could recall. Someone else must have, since there was no way Sans would have done so willingly. It was the closest possible reasoning he had, but it only created more questions than it answered.
Why would anyone take the time to clean their home? Even if they cleaned the bulk of the rooms, why touch anything in Sans’ bedroom? The bed was far too neat for his brother to have slept in it recently. In fact, the entire house seemed to allude to the notion his brother hadn’t been inside in a very long time. It… It didn’t make any sense.
Maybe Grillby knew. Now that Papyrus was really thinking about it, maybe Grillby had done the cleaning. The elemental seemed like a clean monster, despite the food he served. He could have taken to cleaning their home as a kind gesture. Though, it didn’t explain why he would feel so inclined. There was only one way to answer that.
Bolting out, Papyrus sprinted over to Grillby’s. Waving and recognizing a surprising number of monsters that greeted him so early in the morning, Papyrus couldn’t quite shake how wrong everything seemed.
A part of him, deep down in his soul, was filled with the lightest claws of confusion. He seldom was this noticed in town, much less with smiles and enthusiastic greetings. It almost seemed like everyone was in on a large secret which the tall skeleton was not privy too. There hadn’t even been that many monsters willing to visit the underground after getting to the surface, but this seemed even more populated than prior to then. Half the monsters that greeted Papyrus he knew only by vague inklings to their name and jobs.
Papyrus was exceptionally relieved to reach the bar and see just the older flame wiping everything down. It was far too early for any monster to justifiably view this establishment as a decent option. They could wait at least until mid-morning to make terrible life decisions. Brushing his biases aside, Papyrus stomped right up to the bar.
Once there, he wasn’t entirely certain what to say. Demanding to know if Grillby had cleaned their home seemed rude and ungrateful. No matter how odd it was for the house to be sparkling, Papyrus could appreciate the improvement. He just wished it wasn’t so cold and sterile. They still needed to live there after all.
“GRILLBY, HAVE YOU SEEN SANS?” That seemed like a perfectly reasonable way to start the conversation. Papyrus hadn’t seen him, not since… Well, obviously things were different now. He wasn’t dead so Sans had to be somewhere.
“Sans,” The elemental paused his cleaning for but a second to stare at Papyrus. “Don’t you remember?”
Papyrus did remember, quite a few things. He remembered the surface with the sun. He remembered the people and all their anger towards monsters. He remembered the kindness at his work and the great contrast between that and the population as a whole. He remembered a lot of things.
“It’s been years,” the flame continued. “You’re father made a mistake and neither of them are coming back. They’re gone.”
Gone… Papyrus knew gone. Dusting was the strongest memory, and the fuzziest at the same time. He knew why he had to. Papyrus knew that he had dusted, but Sans had not. He knew that it was the right thing, but he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t gone. He was here, somehow, and Sans was not.
If Sans didn’t come back when Papyrus somehow did; that meant he was back there, with the other Papyrus. It was the only explanation that Papyrus could accept. His brother wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be gone, not forever. He’d find a solution to this human problem and find Sans. He had to. Life wasn’t worth it without his brother.
Papyrus didn’t listen to Grillby as he left. He didn’t want to hear whatever the elemental had to say. He thought Sans was gone. He’d given up on him. Papyrus refused to do that.