Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sometimes it was hard to get out of bed. Papyrus couldn’t understand why. Granted he was just tired sometimes, but other times he wasn’t tired as much as he was… just… not wanting to get up. Just wanted to go to sleep because it felt like he should do that. And just sleep for who knows how long. Sleep couldn’t be that bad. Sans really liked it. But Papyrus didn’t like it because he found difficulties in doing it. And if he didn’t find difficulties, he just didn’t want to wake up or feel awful the moment he woke up. He’s asked Sans about it before.

“SANS?” Papyrus poked at the semi-burnt breakfast. It was a solid third attempt at french toast.

“hm?”

“IS IT HARD TO GET OUT OF BED?”

Sans blinked. “whatcha mean?”

“LIKE… IS IT JUST HARD. TO GET OUT OF BED.”

“like when you’re tired?”

Papyrus shrugged. “I GUESS.” Tired was a good term to use when he woke up sometimes. Just not the sleepy tired.

Sans hummed, taking a bite out of his bare bread. It wasn’t even cooked. “yeah. it can be hard sometimes. but i’m lazy, and i usually just wanna sleep.”

Papyrus frowned. “DOES THAT… DOES THAT MAKE ME LAZY FOR WANTING TO STAY IN BED SOMETIMES THEN?”

Sans reached over rubbing Papyrus’ skull before taking his hand away. “nah. sometimes you just want more sleep and can’t do much about it.” he said, taking another bite out of his bread. “s’why you gotta go to bed so early. so you sleep right and don’t have a bed night.”

The pun went ignored. “But it’s hard…” Papyrus mumbled.

“cuz you got all that energy. maybe you should start running around the whole underground or somethin’.” Sans joked with a chuckle. He then paused. “... don’t actually do that.”

Papyrus was pretty sure he didn’t feel up to that sort of thing most of the time anyway.

Papyrus liked others. Meeting new monsters was always fun. With the possibility of new friends. It was something Papyrus always felt prepared for. He just was an affection machine. However, others never seemed to quite notice that. At school, no one seemed to realize he was open to talk. Well, some did. And they were the closest he considered friends! He knew their names, what their interests were--well, namely one. That being pick on Papyrus. And it didn’t feel good. It more so gave another reason to stay in bed. But he brushed it off, because that’s ridiculous! Granted they never call him a friend and would sometimes get him into troubling situations, but it wasn’t like they didn’t hang out! They hung out a lot of the time, even when they told Papyrus to bug off.

…

He wasn’t an idiot. He got what they meant. At first Papyrus thought nothing of it, but he was quick to compare with others. Maybe if they were purposely manipulating him he would’ve been fooled, but they weren’t even doing that. Papyrus just felt so awful so often already that he just wanted to ignore it. He felt lonely and he wanted anyone to accompany him. He felt bad for not being able to properly tell Sans that he had really good friends. So he’d lie to his brother and himself.

It all also came from a prospect of pity in a sense. He knew they were good. He knew they just needed that one good friend. And Papyrus wouldn’t mind trying to be that for them. He just wants to help them onto a better path. He’d also appreciate some bond of friendship. That would be really nice too…

He just didn’t know what he kept doing wrong.

Papyrus pushed his plate, only to have Sans push it back as he tried scooting out of his seat.

“eat.” he said.

It was food Sans could actually cook. His brother always tried his best to make good tasting food, let alone edible.

Papyrus pushed the plate back, earning another look from his brother. “M’not hungry.” Papyrus mumbled.

He always hated this point at dinner. Or lunch. Or breakfast. Really anytime Papyrus was stuck with food he didn’t want to eat. Sometimes he’d get lucky and throw away the food or give it to the dog that hangs around. Sometimes he just pushed his plate and gets to his room before Sans catches him. He loved his brother, he just wished he didn’t make him do so much.

Sans pushed it back. “i want you to eat. you haven’t had anything all day.” he said.

He asks for so much.

“But I’m not hungry--”

“a little bit.” he reasoned.

Papyrus narrowed his sockets at the food on his plate. Sans only had a few bites left on his second portion, Papyrus hasn’t touched his own. “You say that every time…”

“paps.” Sans sighed, seeming tired by the whole repeating song and dance. Then why doesn’t he just quit? Papyrus stopped making himself eat, it isn’t that hard to ignore. “it’s not good for you to eat so little.”

“So?”

“so…” Sans tapped the plate with his fork. “eat.”

Papyrus slumped in his seat, tears decorating his sockets. Already seeing where this is going, Sans groaned.

“papyrus…” Papyrus crossed his arms in refusal, kicking the table harshly in attempts to kick his brother. “don’t kick the table.” Papyrus kicked harder, causing his milk to spill all over. Sans stood up shouting, “papyrus!” Papyrus stayed silent looking ahead as his brother began muttering while cleaning up. Picking up the ruined dinner, Sans looked to Papyrus speaking sharply, “i’m gonna get you some more. stay. put.”

Once Sans went into the kitchen, Papyrus decided to make a break for it.

Ding!

Papyrus felt weight hit his body and he fell straight to the ground shouting, “SANS!” He could hear him snickering. “NO FAIR! Y-YOU-- YOU BIG CHEATER!”

“told you to stay, didn’t i?” Sans responded, his voice sickeningly sweet.

Papyrus cried with tears coming down, “LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

“not until you actually eat!”

“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

“we’ll just see about that, won’t we?!”

Sans was most definitely not like most brothers from what Papyrus gathered from others, certainly not like the mean, bossy big brothers he’s heard his classmates talk about. But moments like this certainly reminded Papyrus that he was indeed a sibling. Sans had patience, lots of it. But once in a blue moon frustration slips. Usually Papyrus hears him scream in his pillow in his room, but other times Sans uses the frustration to get his point across.

When Sans came back with a final sweep to clean off the milk and setting down the plate, Sans lifted Papyrus off the ground with his magic and placed him gently onto his seat. The plate of fried vegetables and chicken was steaming again, most likely because Sans heated it up.

Papyrus fought against his brother who was trying to brush away the tears. “you need to eat something, it’s not good for you if you don’t.”

“I don’t wanna though…”

“i-- i know.” Sans half groaned, cutting it midway. “but you gotta. now,” Sans pulled away, not looking satisfied with his cleaning, as he went back to his seat sitting down watching, “we’re not gonna leave the table until you eat. the whole chew and swallowing business.” Right, last time Papyrus decided to chew but spat it out right at Sans after in retaliation. Certainly one of his more bitter days. “and i’m warning you, i won’t reheat it so you better eat it while it’s still warm. ain’t good cold.”

Papyrus huffed, slouching down again with his arms crossed, just staring at his feet kicking the air lightly. Sans’ magic was gone, but there was no point to repeat actions.

His brother breathed out leaning back in his chair. “this’ll be for the long haul then.”

Papyrus just didn’t want to eat. What was so wrong with that? Sans said it wasn’t good for him not to, but he never explains how. For a skeleton who likes hearing explanations, he sure doesn’t like giving them.

So they sat there for a minute. Then an hour. Then two hours. By this point, it was past Papyrus’ bedtime. But they kept sitting there in silence, Papyrus not touching his food. Sans kept with a stern look, but his yawning gave away that he just wanted this to be over. And it would once he let Papyrus leave the table. Unlike Sans, Papyrus could stay up for a long time. He was never good at sleeping. Sometimes it was because of energy, other times he wouldn’t because of nightmares or fear, and most of the time he just couldn’t. He couldn’t and would have to stare at the ceiling for a good two or three hours before succumbing to sleep, and those were the good nights. He was well practiced where Sans was not.

Sans would perk up, brighten even at movement or the sound of something clinking, but inevitably falls seeing Papyrus just ideally playing with the fork. Sans looked at the time to see it one in the morning, his sockets looking surprised at it. He looked back over to Papyrus who was both tired but not. He hated those kind of nights. When he was really tired but his body and mind refused to fall asleep. Those were the times when his thoughts could easily attack from behind.

“... papyrus.” Sans spoke, his voice groggy and massaging the space between his sockets. The younger skeleton looked up. “go to bed.”

Without a word, Papyrus scooted out of the chair and walked up the stairs to his room, slamming the door to shut it. Bedtime stories were the best way Papyrus found he could sleep, but none looked to be happening tonight.

He stood in the middle of his room, hiccuping. He didn’t know why he was crying. He had no reason to. He just felt like it, that’s all there was to it. Papyrus stumbled over falling onto his bed. He rose up the covers and tucked himself in. He didn’t bother with the lights. He just kept them on as he tried to get the blankets the way he would have them, the way Sans would help put them in. He didn’t even pay attention to how he had yet to get into his pajamas.

When the blanket didn’t work, Papyrus began tearing up out of frustration. He whined, his teeth clenched tightly, his fists clutching the blankets furiously before he just covered his whole body in them, curling up sobbing.

He hated fighting with Sans. He just felt more awful. More despicable. Here was his kind and devoted brother trying to take care of him, and Papyrus just makes his life terrible as if being some burden. Sometimes he wonders if Sans would’ve gotten rid of him, if he still would, if he should. Maybe, perhaps, most definitely. Those were the easiest answers to conclude. Sans can’t do what other 18 year olds do because his 8 year old brother keeps ruining his life. Papyrus felt himself curling up tighter and his sobs harder, his phalanges scratching roughly from his skull to his clavicle. He would sometimes start scratching at his arms to give his upper half a break. Sans kept telling him to stop, and he just does it anyway.

Papyrus just kept doing everything Sans doesn’t want him to do, and he never tries to redeem himself. He wouldn’t be surprised if he never sees his brother tomorrow. And the day after that. And the coming days later. Then Papyrus would… he doesn’t know what would happen. Surely Sans would have a better life. Maybe he wouldn’t be in Snowdin anymore but the capital instead. Or maybe he’d get a new, better brother. Maybe Papyrus would wake up somewhere that isn’t his room because Sans kicked him out.

The thoughts kept piling up, and the small child kept breathing telling himself to stop, only to finish his pleas quickly realizing when they wouldn’t. So he kept scratching, his skull aching, his arms burning, his spinal cord tight, it all hurt.

He stifled his cries when he heard a knock.

“papyrus?” His SOUL seized up. Was Sans going to say it to his face? He didn’t realize he could be so cruel, but Papyrus guessed he deserved the cruelest. Even though he kept telling himself otherwise. “paps? you... can i come in?” Sans should know it’s “may” not “can”. Papyrus only sniffled, trying to stop the crying. He should try and not look so pathetic, at least try to stick around. “... i’m-- i’m gonna come in, alright?”

There was a turn of the knob and creak of the door. Papyrus felt himself stiffen, attempting to stifle his continuous sniffing and hiccuping to no avail. The door closed and he heard shuffled steps before he felt his bed dip.

Would Sans hit him for not eating?

No.

But he could.

He probably should.

Papyrus shut his sockets tightly, only to feel a light touch to the back of his spine. Sans began rubbing circles on his back. It felt nice. He didn’t deserve it probably.

Before he could think, Papyrus croaked, “Are you gonna get rid of me?”

Without skipping a beat, Sans responded, “what?” He sounded panicked as he spoke while picking Papyrus’ limp body up. “no, no, no! no, i’m not gonna get rid of you! why would i get rid of such a cool brother?”

Sans tried pulling off the blanket to see Papyrus’ face now that he was in his older brother’s lap, but the younger refused keeping it closed.

“B-because,” he sniffed, “because I didn’t eat.”

Sans took a moment before laughing a bit, adjusting his hold on Papyrus to better brush his hand on the back of his blanket covered skull. “i’m not gonna get rid of you over that you numskull.” he teased. Papyrus felt Sans brush his teeth to the side of his skull. “i ain’t ever getting rid of you, whether you like it or not.” Papyrus couldn’t find any smile. That wasn’t good. He at least needed to find a smile for Sans. Would a skeleton’s natural look work? “hey,” Sans spoke again in a softer voice, “y’know i’m not ever gonna get rid of you, right?”

Papyrus fiddled with his hands, picking at his carpals as if to try and pull them out. “I dunno…” he said. “You could.”

“i won’t.” He said it so seriously, Papyrus would have mistaken it for him to actually being honest. “i’m not ever gonna get rid of you.” he assured. His grip on Papyrus tightened, the hug bringing the two closer. Sans had his face into Papyrus’ shoulder, promising the same thing.

“How do you know?” he squeaked.

Sans picked up his skull, looking at the blanket being. “because i love you too much.”

Papyrus stayed quiet, picking at his carpals again. He had to wonder what it felt like to just pluck a bone out. His blurry vision brightened when Sans pulled away the covers without him realizing. Papyrus immediately shrunk with vulnerability. He didn’t want to be yelled at for scratching.

Sans brushed at the marks lightly with his phalanges, Papyrus sockets shut tight not noticing Sans’ worried look.

“were you scratching again?” He knew he was. He knew and yet, he still asked anyway. Papyrus kept silent, wincing when Sans put a little pressure by mistake. “sorry.” he whispered, trailing over the rest. Sans grabbed one of Papyrus’ hands asking, “can i see your arms?”

“You have sight, so yes.”

Sans stared before giving out a small chuckle. “ may i see your arms?” Papyrus shifted, looking away. “please?” Moments were silent until Papyrus hesitantly stuck his arm out. Sans pulled up the sleeve, hissing at the marks. He began lightly tracing subconsciously. “doesn’t it hurt?” Papyrus kept his gaze away, not wanting to answer. “... need to figure out somethin’...” he heard his brother mutter. “... nasty habit…”

Papyrus never hurt himself purposefully, so he supposed it was a habit technically. He just didn’t think it was as bad as Sans made it out to be.

Papyrus felt like sleeping. But he couldn’t because the doctor was shining a light in his socket. It was uncomfortable and blinding. He never was a fan at the doctors, the only good part being the lollipops and stickers. But Papyrus would rather stay in bed and not talk honestly.

“Quieter today Papyrus.” The doctor--a feline monster--noted.

“he uh, he hasn’t been feeling too hot lately I think.” Sans spoke up from his seat. “remember that nasty lil’ habit? he’s been doin’ it a lot more lately.” The doctor hummed as she moved onto the next socket. “and he’s been eating less. i’m lucky if i get him to eat a snack.”

She hummed again, taking the light out of Papyrus’ vision.

“That does seem troubling…” she said. “Papyrus, I’m going to see your reflexes by hitting you lightly on the knee, alright?” Papyrus nodded, allowing her to do so.

“um,” Sans shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “so you have anything to help with those things or…?”

“Have him stop and start having him eat.”

“oh gee, thanks, couldn’t have done it without you doc.” His voice sounded unamused.

“Well have you done what I’ve said before?”

“yes!” he said. “last week we sat at the table until one in the morning and he didn’t have a single bite!”

“Hm.” The doctor looked to Papyrus skeptically. “Papyrus. Have you been eating right?”

He frowned. “WHAT MAKES SOMETHING ‘EATING RIGHT’?”

The doctor brought up her paw, extending a claw as she listed, “Three whole meals a day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Papyrus squirmed. “AND I HAVE TO EAT ALL OF IT?”

“One serving each time. At the very least.” Papyrus looked down to his feet, the doctor turning back to Sans. “He is lighter than what a normal skeleton monster is recorded to be…”

“by how much?”

“I’ll leave it at significantly.” Papyrus couldn’t remember the meaning of that word in this kind of context, but Sans seemed to understand. And it didn’t look good.

“i can’t just force him.” Sans said.

“Right. So,” She turned back to Papyrus with trained eyes, “Papyrus? Why haven’t you been eating?” She went for the direct approach.

He squirmed, beginning to pick at his carpals. “UM… well… I’m just not hungry…”

“But you can’t be not hungry all the time.” She said.

“B-BUT I AM!” he defended. “I’M JUST NOT HUNGRY!”

She hummed, telling Papyrus he didn’t convince her. “Papyrus, it’s not okay for you not to be eating. It’s not healthy.”

“WHY?”

“Well I’m sure your brother told you a little--”

“SANS DOESN’T TELL ME ANYTHING.”

The doctor shot Sans a narrowed look, and he held his hands up in defense. “i tell him things! i just sorta wanted to avoid the morbid stuff…” Papyrus didn’t know the meaning of the word morbid, not even one meaning.

The doctor sighed, turning back to Papyrus. “Papyrus, do you understand what happens when a monster reaches the end of their life?”

“THEY DIE?”

She blinked. “Well, erm, no need to put it so bluntly, but yes. However, old age isn’t the only way they can pass away.” she said. “One way a monster could pass away is if they don’t eat enough.”

Papyrus feels like he should be scared hearing this. But why isn’t he? Death looked intimidating, and the fact no one knew what happened after was unnerving, but it seemed… attractive sometimes. Just to stay sleeping. Not bothering anyone. It sounded nice--

“paps?” Papyrus was brought back to reality when his brother’s voice came through. He was now next to the taller doctor looking concerned. “you alright bud?”

“U-UM, YES. I UH… WHAT WAS THE QUESTION?”

“There was no question dear.” The doctor said. “I just told you that you should start eating more.”

“SO I DON’T… DIE?”

“Yes. No one wants that, right?” No one? Really?

Sans must’ve noticed the scrunched up thinking expression Papyrus had when he placed his bony hand on top of his younger brother’s, giving it a light squeeze. “no, no one wants that pap.”

“Alright.” He said without much feeling. He didn’t like the look on Sans face. He looked worried. He didn’t like his brother looking so worried. “I-I’LL TRY TO EAT MORE!” he said with more cheer.

Sans still didn’t let go of his hand.

“I’d suggest starting off on some small portions or light food if his weight is to go by what you’ve said about his poor eating habits. Slowly get him back on eating properly.” Sans nodded and hummed, rubbing his thumb across Papyrus’ knuckles. “It shouldn’t be long until he should be fine eating more dense foods. He might just puke up now if you gave him something like a burger right now. So things like fruits, applesauce, anything with a good amount of calories should help. Just try to refrain from too much. Yogurt is probably really good with all the calcium. You should have him eat slowly once you start getting him on the dense foods. Once he starts on those though, I recommend getting him to eat more than the normal amount.” Papyrus felt ill just by that idea alone. “Snacks throughout the day would be good. He needs to build up all that weight again.”

“right.” Sans nodded. He looked to Papyrus, his expression smiling. He seemed okay, but Papyrus had doubts. “that sound good for you bro?”

Papyrus looked down to his feet kicking lightly. “I guess.”

His brother’s gaze lingered before looking back to the doctor. “um, what about the scratching?”

“Does he normally do it when he’s stressed?”

“i guess.”

“Papyrus?”

Papyrus blinked. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“do you do the scratch thing when your tense pap?” Sans brought his other hand to rub Papyrus’ whole knuckle.

“Or when you just need something to do with your hands?”

“Um,” Papyrus looked down mumbling, “both I guess.”

“Are you sure?” He nodded. “Okay, so let’s try getting him something else to do.”

The doctor said. She walked off, opening and rummaging through something Papyrus didn’t bother seeing. Sans stayed quiet, just rubbing his hand. He was worried. Papyrus could tell. He just can’t do anything right.

“Alright,” Papyrus looked up to see something in her hand, “this is from the office, so it’s relatively cheap. I recommend getting a different one or a different fidget toy for his hands to do something if you can, but it’ll do the job for both his stress and fidgeting enough.” She handed Papyrus a green ball to his free hand. He gave it a squeeze. It was sort of hard to do so, something both Sans and the doctor could tell. “Again, I recommend getting him something different.” she repeated. “A stress ball can help with when he’s overcome with anxiety or the like, and it can also give his hands something to do. But there are little toys for fidgeting.”

“thanks for this doc. probably will get somethin’ different though.”

“I figured as much.”

Papyrus squeezed again, barely crushing it. He looked up asking, “Is this for my… um… A… AD…”

“ADHD. It’s good to see you remembered Papyrus.” The doctor praised.

She’s mentioned it before how he had it. It wasn’t severe, but it did give a challenge to staying focus sometimes. Especially at school. Puzzles were easy to focus on, he had fun with those. Math and science, not so much.

“As to your question, yes, it’s partly just to give your hands something to do rather than scratching.” Papyrus wanted to ask what if he didn’t want to exactly want to stop the scratching, but chose against it. Sans might not like it if he said that. “So anytime you want to scratch, squeeze the ball instead. Or whatever you get later. Just go to your stress toy.”

“Alright.” He agreed mindlessly.

When they left, Papyrus got his lollipop and sticker as usual. He didn’t like the results of the visit.

Papyrus didn’t think much about blades. He was told not to play with them, like scissors. One time he held one in the kitchen and Sans freaked out. And he said that he didn’t want Papyrus playing with them. He saw no harm in it. None he noticed anyway.

Papyrus was left by the same friends that poked fun at him. They walked off laughing, as usual. The young skeleton hasn’t been feeling the best as of late. He had just recently been caught by Sans that he hasn’t been eating his lunch. No any food given when he wasn’t looking. So Sans has been on watch. Anytime Papyrus ate, he’d make sure he was eating. So the kids who made fun didn’t much help the distress.

There was a glint in the snow that caught Papyrus’ gaze, and he went over to find it to be a knife. It must’ve dropped from one of the kids’ pockets, because it had their last name engraved into the hilt. Papyrus first thought was to run after and return it. It wasn’t his after all.

But then a thought came to mind.

He looked at it for awhile.

…

They couldn’t need it too much if they dropped it, right?

Sans was trying to think up something for dinner. He made a whole list with Papyrus--or more so he made the list. Papyrus sat there whimpering. He didn’t understand why his brother was so insistent on not eating. It worried him to no end. The new stress toy was also something that Papyrus neglected along with his eating. It was a really cool squishy one in the shape of a dinosaur. Sans asked if he wanted it, and Papyrus said yes. But then he barely ever used it. He worried that he was beginning to bottle up feelings. Sans would be a hypocrite to say, but Papyrus shouldn’t do that. He knows how well it works from experience, and it’s not very fun to deal with.

Sans looked over the list until he thought about asking Papyrus. He knows the answer already. “I don’t know” or “I don’t care”. Those have been the past answers since the doctor visit. Papyrus has been more moody and less happy. He painfully tries to look so around Sans, but he’s seen him when he thinks Sans isn’t looking. He doesn’t look happy.

Still, might as well give him the choice of dinner if he’s being forced to eat.

Sans walked up the stairs and up to Papyrus’ door, knocking, “papyrus?” No answer. “pap? can i come in?” he asked. “i wanted to ask what you wanted for dinner.” He waited, still no answer. His brow bones furrowed, his SOUL heavy. He knocked again, “paps?” With silence, Sans placed his hand on the door knob. “i’m coming in, alright?”

With the lack of any answer, Sans turned the knob and opened the door.

His SOUL sank.

A million feet down.

A trillion.

Quadrillion.

No amount could describe it.

Papyrus was laying on the floor with ragged breaths, his arms and legs spilling out dust and marrow like waterfalls. A knife nearby covered in the substances pouring out.

Sans was on the floor before he even realized it, picking up Papyrus panicked. He shook him as if he’d wake up. He laid unresponsive.

“p-papyrus? paps? br-- bro?” Papyrus skull fell back with no support, something Sans quickly fixed. “hon? c-c’mon paps, talk to me!”

Sans checked him to find his brother’s HP falling. The most disturbing part of the check?

*Feels at peace

Sans shook his head with teary sockets. “n-no, no, no, no, d-don’t-- don’t think like that papyrus, don’t--!”

Sans sucked in a breath, wasting no time to pick his brother up. His dust was getting on him, but he couldn’t care less in the moment. Without thinking, Sans used a shortcut. He’d never had a passenger before, but he knew running wouldn’t be enough time and certainly not calling.

The moment he set foot in the hospital, he stumbled forward, quick to cry out with everyone’s attention, “p-please! please, my-- my brother--!”

Already nurses were called through to get Papyrus help. Barely a minute passed for a gurney to come in and nurses to take Papyrus out of Sans’ hold. He rushed to his brother’s side, holding his hand as they rushed.

How could this happen?

Why?

Why Papyrus of all monsters?

“you’re gonna be fine bro, you’re gonna be fine…” he kept murmuring until one of the nurses held Sans back from continuing onward.

When he stood alone in the hall, looking to the doors his brother left through, Sans felt his legs were jello. He felt so shaky. He could feel his brother’s dust on him, something he never wanted to feel.

“please be fine…”

Sans twiddled his thumbs unnerved. He was outside Papyrus’ room. It took a painfully long two days, but the kid woke up. And he was ecstatic to hear his brother’s voice… when he spoke. It was mainly Sans talking to him. He tried to get him talking with nice questions, “do you want me to read?” or “are you hungry?”, but Papyrus kept his responses short. Giving only a grunt when possible. He didn’t want to talk and it hurt to see him looking so miserable. But maybe he’s always been so miserable but just ignored it.

Sans ran his phalanges against his skull, trying to hope for the best. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it all seemed. Maybe the doctors were wrong. The child psychiatrist would come out and say it was all an accident. That Papyrus didn’t mean to really hurt himself. Sans didn’t bother looking up with nurses, doctors, and patients walking by until the door made a noise.

Immediately, Sans stood up from his seat looking to the psychiatrist who was a bird monster. “how is he?” He wasted no time to ask about his brother’s health.

Sans glanced over to the small window to peer in, seeing Papyrus on the bed picking at the covers with hollow sockets. The feeling made his SOUL ache.

The psychiatrist took off his spectacles, cleaning the lenses with his shirt sighing. “Well, your brother didn’t mean to hurt himself so severely…”

Sans felt light, relaxing with a smile. “so he’s okay?”

“Mmm…” He placed his glasses back on his beak, “I wouldn’t say that…”

The light feeling left and he felt tense. “whataya mean?”

The sigh wasn’t a very good sign. “It took some coaxing, but I was able to get Papyrus to tell me that he certainly did mean to cut himself deeply.” Sans’ SOUL fell. “I also got him to be as honest as he was willing to be and I’m afraid Papyrus isn’t… he’s not as happy as he could be.”

The stout skeleton looked at him with disbelief. How was that the conclusion? Papyrus was the happiest skeleton he knew! “i-- that can’t be it. was he upset something happened? did i do something?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. He told me that he’s felt this way for a long time. Or at least, he mentioned how hard it was to get out of bed sometimes.”

“he’s just tired then, right?”

“You seem bright enough to understand that isn’t what he means.” Sans felt awful. Papyrus asked him and he just-- he didn’t think anything of it. “It’s always the ones you never expect.” Sans felt his fists tight, just unable to believe it all. “I gave him a short test.” he said. “Needless to say, he passed with a high percentage.”

“... and?” he croaked.

“And your brother is most likely depressed.” Sans sucked in a breath, closing his sockets. He needed to take a breather. “I understand it’s… it’s a lot to take in.”

“did... did he say if he wanted to…”

“He mentioned it didn’t sound like a bad thing.”

Sans collapsed in his seat, taking his skull in his hands. He felt like sobbing. His brother was just feeling like this and Sans was ignoring. What kind of caretaker does that?

Sans felt feathers tickling his shoulder with light pats. “I understand it’s not an easy thing to find out.”

“he’s just a kid.” he whispered. “he’s just a-- he shouldn’t-- he shouldn’t be feeling that way.” Why couldn’t Sans be the depressed one? He could handle the bad thoughts. He could handle them just fine. He was sure he could.

“But he is I’m afraid.” The doctor said.

“is... is he gonna just-- one day am i gonna find j-just dust in his room o-or…”

“As awful as this is, I am glad to inform you that your brother isn’t necessarily falling.” he said. “Monsters with depression certainly are more likely to fall, but if treated right and if they’re willing to keep going, they normally turn out just fine.” Key word “normally”. Which meant it didn’t always work.

Sans felt his skull stinging from his bony fingers. He should’ve known. He should’ve known then maybe Papyrus wouldn’t have been dealing with it all alone. Or lying straight to Sans’ face… Sans didn’t know if Papyrus really had all those smiles genuine. Did he even know what his brother’s smile actually looked like?

“I have some suggestions, but I would try to build up to some things so he isn’t bombarded with so much new experiences at once.” Sans nodded, listening to the doctor as he spoke what could help Papyrus out. And none of them made it seem like Sans himself could do anything to help.

Papyrus tugged at his brother’s hand, only having him tighten the grip he had on the younger skeleton. “SANS?” he piped up, “WHERE ARE WE?”

Sans looked down at him offering a smile. It looked pained. They had to go all the way to New Home for this, but it was worth it. Plus, it didn’t exactly prove terrible with Sans’ shortcuts.

“we’re gonna get some help.” he said.

“WITH WHAT?”

“well, with…” Sans looked up in attempts to come up with a reasoning, “... with your feelings.”

“MY FEELINGS?”

“sorta.” As much of a science wiz Sans was, he wasn’t as learned in biology as he was quantum. So if depression didn’t actually have to do with his feelings, he wouldn’t know. “c’mon. doc’s probably waitin’.” Sans tugged his brother to enter the building.

It felt like a regular doctor visit. Except the office didn’t look like Dr. Purrly’s office at all. There wasn’t a table but a desk with two couch seats in front. There were some plaques on the wall along with a bookshelf filled with what one would expect to be honest. Papyrus didn’t give anything much thought as he sat on one of the seats with his brother still clutching onto his hand. He just kicked the air listening to Sans and the doctor speak like white noise. Into one ear hole and out the other.

“I would like to do a little more in depth test to really see what he’ll need.”

Sans grip tightened. “right... guessin’ i’m gonna have to leave the room?”

“It’s the best for honesty I would think. Papyrus?” He perked up. “Would you prefer Sans to leave while we talk a little more personally again?” Papyrus gave a silent nod without hesitation.

Sans hesitantly let go with a quiet “alright”, whispering to Papyrus that he’d be right outside if he needed him.

With the click of the door, it was just the doctor and Papyrus again. He began picking at his carpals discreetly. “How are you Papyrus?” he asked first.

“Fine.” His voice was more quiet than when they were outside. He didn’t feel like he should be here.

The doctor hummed, grabbing onto a sheet in front of him and clicking a pen. “Good. Good. Now, I just want to ask a few questions Papyrus, and I want you to be honest. We can’t help you if you’re not honest.” Help?

“What are you helping me with?” he asked. “Sans said it was my feelings?”

“Partly.” he answered. “You don’t feel very good a lot of the time, right?” He nodded. “Well I’m going to try and figure out with your answers how to help you not feel that way. Does that sound good to you?”

Papyrus squirmed. “I guess…”

The doctor hummed, adjusting his spectacles as he looked down to the paper. “Alright then. If you don’t want to answer anything or feel uncomfortable with a question, just say pass.” Papyrus nodded. “Now over the last week, answer if how and if you’ve been feeling this way. Are you ready?”

“Mhmm…” Papyrus kicked his feet.

“Okay. Have you been feeling sadness or just feeling like you couldn’t be bothered with?” Papyrus nodded. “How often?”

“Um…” He kept kicking the air, his picking becoming scratching. “A lot I guess.”

“Would you say most of the time?”

Papyrus frowned and thought about it. Would it be most of the time? “I… dunno… I’m sorry.”

“That’s quite alright Papyrus.” he said writing something down. “All I want is for you to answer the best you can. Now, let’s move on…”

The questions kept coming, and there were more than Papyrus remembered at the hospital.

Did he ever feel worthless?

Yes.

Tired or low energy?

Rarely.

Feeling life isn’t much fun? Not enjoying things he enjoyed before?

Yes. Severely.

Panic or anxious feelings?

Ever since that dinner, yes.

Thoughts, plans, or actions about ending himself or self-harm?

He said pass.

They kept going, it felt like an eternity. But it’s been only a little over an hour.

“Alright Papyrus, I just have one more question.” Finally. “All I want you to do is tell me how you feel.”

“How I feel?”

“Most of the time. Everyday when you wake up. How would you describe it?”

Papyrus shifted, his face scrunching up. He began picking at his sleeve rather than scratching, his scratched up hand hidden under the sleeve. It didn’t look that bad than normal. Probably because new eyes were focused solely on him.

“Um… I guess… I dunno.”

“You said you felt sad often, right?”

Papyrus shrugged. “Sorta.”

“‘Sorta’?”

“W-well…” Papyrus rubbed his arms. “I dunno how to say it. Sometimes I feel really tired and sad, but I dunno how I feel most of the time.” he admitted. “I try to look happy.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it makes Sans happy. And I think maybe I’ll be happy too at some point.”

The doctor hummed. “Would you say you don’t feel anything Papyrus? Perhaps numb?”

He perked up. “Mhmm, I think that sounds right.”

“Right…” He scribbled something down before getting up from his seat. “Papyrus, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak with your brother alone.”

He simply nodded, getting out of his seat and following the doctor to the door. Being left to wait outside, it didn’t take a little more than ten minutes for Sans to step out, holding papers in his hand.

“alright bro, let’s go.” He held out his hand which Papyrus grabbed, helping him up. Papyrus didn’t expect to be picked up next, but instinctively wrapped his arms around Sans’ cervical vertebrae anyway. “you look tired.” Sans whispered, rubbing Papyrus’ back. His chin was over Sans’ shoulder, seeing the floor move before he decided to hide his face between the space of his brother’s skull and clavicle. “go to sleep bud.”

Papyrus nodded, adjusting a little in Sans’ hold. He felt tired. Why did he feel so tired? Was it all the questions? He didn’t much care at the moment. Papyrus just wanted to sleep.

He just would have preferred not to wake up.

Papyrus poked at his breakfast mindlessly. His brother has been trying harder with cooking meals. He could tell. The pancakes weren’t as charred as usual. In fact, they were pretty good. Even so, Papyrus didn’t feel like eating. He only looked up when he heard a glass set down. It was a glass of water plus a small tablet. He felt a familiar kiss to his skull.

“take your pill.” Sans reminded. Every time Papyrus thought he lucked out, either the day or night pill, Sans would remember.

“I don’t want it.” he mumbled.

Sans looked back from the kitchen as he was by the toaster. Ah, so he was making some effort to cook the bread for once. That’s something that happened too after everything. For whatever reason, Sans’ lazy eating habits were growing better, at least around Papyrus.

“it’s good for you.” he said loud enough for his voice to carry from the kitchen. The toaster popped up a piece of toast, and Sans grabbed a napkin burning his phalanges taking the toast out.

“Why do I have to take it?” Papyrus asked.

Sans was walking back to the table, not minding the crumbs that fell to the floor, sitting across from his brother. “because it’ll help you not feel so bad.” he said. He grabbed the butter knife, getting some butter on it to swipe it across the toast.

“Other kids don’t take pills.” Papyrus countered.

Sans stifled his movements before shrugging off the flinch. “you're special.”

Papyrus put his head on the table. “I don’t wanna be special…”

“why’s that?” Sans asked, setting the knife down and taking a bite out of the crunchy bread.

“Because I don’t want this.” Papyrus nearly flicked the pill before Sans put his hand over it to avoid losing the medication.

He sighed, picking up the pill and dropping the toast on the napkin. “pap, i… i get it’s not fun, but you need it.”

“I was fine without it.” he argued. “You thought I was fine.”

Sans stayed quiet. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look disgusted. He looked guilty. Guilty and sad.

He sat for a bit before whispering, “... i know…” Sans looked to Papyrus, his sockets looking apologetic. “i know and i’m sorry i didn’t realize anything.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

“but i should’ve.” he admitted. “i just want you to feel better.” Papyrus stayed silent. “and the way to do that…” Sans held out a hand for Papyrus to bring his own up. He did so, and his older brother grabbed it, putting his palm upward and placing the pill in, closing his phalanges after. “is to take your pill. alright?” Papyrus nodded. “you also need to eat.” He grimaced.

Sans started taking Papyrus to therapy. It wasn’t the same bird doctor though. When he asked why, Sans said because he wasn’t able to do the same thing they do in therapy. Yet, when he got there, it sort of felt similar. The therapist asked questions and listened to Papyrus talk when he bothered to do so. There were other things they did that tapped more into Papyrus’ artsy side. Drawings, collages, stuff like that.

The therapist, a horned looking chameleon monster, told Papyrus to perhaps write out his feelings sometimes. Or if it was easier, for him to draw his feelings out. Just have a little notebook dedicated to that. She was nice, and it did feel like she listened. And she said whatever he told her would stay between them, that she wouldn’t tell Sans anything unless either Papyrus wants her to tell him specifically or if she saw that she needed to. He didn’t get that last part exactly. He couldn’t think up much reasons for her to.

Either way, with what he says confidential, Papyrus speaks a little more honest than usual. A lot of the time, Papyrus doesn’t focus though since they’re usually doing that other stuff as mentioned earlier. Sometimes she asks questions when they’re drawing, other times Papyrus just mentions something random.

Therapy seemed fine, if not a little bothersome. He went at the end of every week, Sans ensuring they never miss an appointment. Papyrus was beginning to miss his brother who would be negligent in his timing to go to something like work now.

Miss Canopy, the therapist, does speak to Sans sometimes. It’s never about anything specific, as Papyrus was promised she kept things between them, but she more so offered ideas or said what she told Papyrus to do. Like the notebook thing. She also showed Papyrus’ pictures or collages sometimes. He didn’t get why exactly. His brother never commented on them to Papyrus himself, and normally Miss Canopy would go onto explaining something to him about it. At least he thinks it’s about the pictures. She usually kept her voice fairly low, turning it to more white noise as he drew waiting to get to leave. Sans spoke low too, he just doesn’t get why entirely they did that. Sometimes Papyrus would be asked to leave the room or Sans and Miss Canopy would leave the room to properly discuss something. That’s usually when she shows Sans the things he made for the session or past sessions. But he doesn’t mind. Granted they aren’t the nicest pieces of art Papyrus has made in his life, but he didn’t think much of it, especially considering his brother was aware he wasn’t as happy as believed.

Papyrus started really disliking therapy when the same group of monster children that normally “talked” to him teased him about having to go. It was because they saw him with his notebook doodling and gluing things into it sometimes. They made fun of him for that first until Papyrus said he did it for the therapy.

The one who dropped the knife Papyrus took was particularly chatty with him. He held no punches, going on to hiss at him about how his parents took his knife away because of Papyrus. He didn’t mean to. He just wanted to see what it was like for the blade to go into his bones. It hurt, but he didn’t think he hated it.

That soured his mood for the week, and he dreaded going for a session, Sans needing to pull him out of his room to go. Miss Canopy noticed Papyrus’ rather down mood and asked if anything in particular happened the past week. He said no and she left it off with a simple “alright”. Giving into the immense pressure that she was obviously putting on him and not out of impulse, Papyrus went on to explain what happened as he colored furiously.

That’s when Miss Canopy asked about Papyrus’ social life with the other kids and found he lacked any friends and was really just getting attacked.

“Have you talked to your brother?” she’d ask, which of course Papyrus would say no. “Have you thought about not going?” His answer was once again no as he knew education was required. Plus, he still liked learning. Sometimes.

That’s when he found out about homeschooling. It sounded like what it was: school at home. Papyrus said it sounded nice, but Sans wouldn’t really have the time to do it. He was more than capable to home school, but he already had work. Miss Canopy told him to think about it, or at the very least speak with Sans about the bullying.

Papyrus avoided it with his brother until he couldn’t, that being when he was all beat up and had to admit to him school wasn’t exactly great. Sans listened patiently, sometimes encouraging Papyrus to continue when he’d pause. It was yet another thing that changed about his brother, he was far more intent with having Papyrus speak to him about things. Maybe a little too much at times, but after telling the therapist and when he realized he overstepped bounds, he would back off. He was rather insistent on answers this time around however.

Sans was the one to offer to try homeschooling for the next year of school. Papyrus mentioned his work, and Sans just waved it off saying how he had his ways.

So then Papyrus kissed public school goodbye and said hello to homeschooling. He isn’t sure when Sans gets to work, he just knows how he seems sleepier more often.

“SANS?” Sans looked away from the pot and down to Papyrus. He’d grown an inch, but he was still smaller than Sans. When that growth spurt happened, they’d finally meet eye to eye.

“sup bro.” He greeted warmly. Sans left the spoon in the pot and bent down to reach Papyrus’ level as the younger held a sheet of paper close. “whatcha need?”

“UM…” He shuffled slightly before pushing the sheet of paper into his brother’s chest. “I-- I DREW SOMETHING. AND UM… I’M HAPPY WITH HOW IT CAME OUT.”

Sans seemed to have brightened with the words, taking the sheet of paper and turning it to look. “that’s great pap, bet it’s super--” Sans smile dropped as he saw the picture. “-- cool…” he breathed.

Papyrus didn’t think much about it. He realized himself it wasn’t anything like da Vinci, but he was proud of the piece of paper. It was something simple, a cartoon skeleton with an “X” at its cervical spinal cord. The sockets weren’t neatly scribbled in and more messy than anything, some of the scribbles out of the socket with the socket itself not being entirely filled in. There were cracks to the small skeleton’s head, or at least the pencil marks looked like that he guessed.

Papyrus would admit that it wasn’t one of his nicer drawings, but Miss Canopy said there were different kind of styles. Plus, the skeleton was holding flowers while wearing a long necklace, so it can’t be that bad.

Sans however, didn’t look pleased. And Papyrus quickly grew anxious. “DID-- DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG?”

Sans finally snapped out of his stupor, pulling off a shaky grin as he shook his head and rubbed the top of Papyrus’ skull. “no, you didn’t do anything wrong bro! it’s just uh, this is a really good drawing.”

“CAN IT GO ON THE FRIDGE?”

Sans stiffened, staying silent before answering hesitantly, “sure…” He straightened and walked over to the fridge, grabbing one of the free magnets. “... y’know what paps?” he spoke up again, “what about we show miss canopy when we go see her tomorrow?”

Papyrus was quick to agree cheering, “I BET SHE’LL LIKE IT!”

“great, so uh, let me get dinner set up and then we’ll get you to bed.”

After dinner and taking his pill, Papyrus went to bed with a bedtime story, Sans staying until he was positive that he was sleeping as usual. Which lasts for a few hours.

“CAN I NOT TAKE IT TONIGHT?”

“take what tonight?”

Papyrus shifted in his seat as he and Sans was still going over the second math problem. Papyrus was never good at math. Or science. “THE PILL.” he answered, earning a sigh from his brother.

“we went over this bro,” he said, rubbing Papyrus’ shoulder, “it helps you.”

“BUT I DON’T LIKE IT.” he complained. “OTHER KIDS DON’T HAVE TO TAKE PILLS.” he argued. “AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE PILLS. SO WHY DO I HAVE TO?”

“papyrus…” Sans sighed, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulder and scooting his chair closer to Papyrus’. “we talked about it. you know what’s… uh…”

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?”

Sans shook his head. “nothing’s wrong with you pap. you’re perfect the way you are.”

“EXCEPT WHEN I’M NOT AND HAVE TO TAKE PILLS.”

Sans breathed out another sigh. “paps, they don’t change your personality, they just make everything easier to deal with. don’t you find it easier to do things bro?” Papyrus stayed silent, only giving a mere shrug as way of response. “papyrus, i don’t want you feeling so down all the time. it isn’t healthy.”

Papyrus threw his hands in the air leaning back a little shouting, “I CAN’T HELP IT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT MY HEAD DOESN’T HAVE ENOUGH OF THAT THING! I BLAME SCIENCE!”

Sans blinked. “why do ya blame science?”

“BECAUSE IT’S STUPID CHEMICALS AND THAT’S A SCIENCE THING!” Sans stared at him before laughing. It was a genuine laugh of adoration, one Papyrus didn’t pay much mind to as he continued, “I’M SERIOUS SANS! IT’S THE ABSOLUTE WORST! NOT ONLY DOES IT TERRORIZE ME IN MY EDUCATION, BUT IT ALSO RUINS ME EMOTIONALLY!”

“p-pap! pap! s-stop! i-i’m... i’m trying to--hehe--be serious…!”

“THEN STOP LAUGHING!”

Papyrus kept his scowl on as Sans calmed down, drying a tear away from his socket. Papyrus kept his face a pout and arms crossed as he was pulled into a hug with his brother nuzzling their skulls together.

“you’re an absolute delight bro.”

Papyrus sunk a little. “Liar…”

Sans moved away and pulled Papyrus’ mandible where his chin would be to have his brother look at him as he said, “no, i’m not kidding papyrus. i always love spending time with you and you’re so kind, sometimes too much for your own good. but y’know what? it’s something i admire about you and i wouldn’t have it any other way.” Papyrus still didn’t speak up, causing Sans to bring him back into a hug with his skull on top of his younger brother’s. “you’re just too hard on yourself.” he murmured. “you’re amazing. you just gotta tell yourself that.”

“Why would I lie to myself?”

“you wouldn’t be.” he answered. “it’d be the most honest thing you’ve told about yourself.”

“take your pill.” he said softly.

“I don’t want it.”

“you should take it though.”

“Can I take it later?”

“you’ll take it now.” His thumb rubbed the side of his brother's skull before placing his teeth to the top of it. “doc’s orders.”

Papyrus played with the pill between his phalanges, watching Sans who was finishing up cooking. Overtime, his brother had begun improving greatly with their meals. Probably because he was working so hard to make them well now. Sans had been working a lot harder in general since the knife incident. He's also had noticeable bags under his sockets most of the time too.

Papyrus lingered back to the pill, bringing it under the table for a moment staring.

“papyrus…”

“I-I’M TAKING IT!” Papyrus brought his hand to his mouth, taking a gulp of water to help the pill down. Sans studied before giving a pleasant smile.

Pure water went down, the pill being stuffed into his pocket. Later in the night, he did a similar technique and was able to put the pills back in the bottle when he knew Sans was asleep. Child locks were annoying, but they were like a puzzle that Papyrus figured out. And besides, might as well help Sans save money.

Papyrus didn’t look up from his notebook as he heard rapping on the door. “COME IN.” he said. The door opened and without turning his head, Papyrus knew it was Sans. Who else would it be.

Sans let the door hit the wall, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame, sockets studying his younger brother. “hey bro. so uh… how are you?”

“FINE.” he answered quickly, scribbling out his doodle.

“good…” Sans looked around the room, seeming to debate on his next words before committing. “... so uh, i sort of noticed somethin’ real interesting on the grocery list.”

“WHAT?” Papyrus asked, not seeing much to it.

“well it’s just that i sorta noticed i didn’t need something when i’m pretty sure it’s around the time i’m needing to get more. weird, huh?”

Papyrus slowed his hand frowning. “YEAH… WEIRD…”

Sans shrugged. “i just don’t really remember getting the infinite bottle of antidepressants.” Papyrus stiffened, a mistake he knew his brother would notice and scolded himself for it. “yeah... almost like someone’s been puttin’ them back or somethin’ when i give you them.”

Papyrus swallowed. “THAT’S… UM… PRETTY WEIRD.” He tried to keep his voice the normal loud volume he was known for.

“yeah... papyrus.”

Uh oh.

“Y-yes?” His voice dropped in volume.

“you haven’t been taking your pills, have you?”

“No--”

“look at me when you answer.”

Papyrus stayed still in debate, slowly turning to see his brother’s lack of eyelights. He wasn’t happy. He looked pretty angry actually.

“U-um… I-- uh-- I-I…”

“papyrus. be. honest.”

Papyrus stared at him before looking down, his phalanges going to his carpals. “W-well, I um… I h-have been… uh…” He looked up shyly, Sans body not looking tense with his expression telling a different story. He quickly looked down. “I… I…”

“papyrus…”

“I just… I mean--”

“why did you stop taking them?!”

“I-I-I don’t know!”

“you don’t know?!”

“I-I don’t!”

“been makin’ it real clear that you don’t like taking them!”

“I-I know, but--!”

“why would you stop taking them?! i don’t get why you hate taking them in the first place! they help you!”

“I know--!”

“do you just want to be miserable?!”

“N-no I just--!”

“then what is it papyrus?! what do you want to do?! at this rate you’re gonna fall, and is that what you’re going for--?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Papyrus screamed the loudest he’d ever done, his voice just straining by it. And it ceased Sans’ voice from making anymore words. Only when Papyrus began clawing at his skull mumbling “I don’t know’s” did Sans make action.

“whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. hey, hey calm down.” Sans knelt down in front of Papyrus’ desk chair and took his hands away from his skull, the marks clearer than ever.

Papyrus was sobbing, tears falling from his sockets and going limp when Sans pulled him down from his seat to sit in his lap. He spoke hush words as he cradled Papyrus’ form and rocked them back and forth, rubbing the side of his skull and arm, sometimes needing to take Papyrus’ hands away from his arms or carpals to stop hurting himself.

“sh, sh, shh… you’re alright, calm down. take deep breaths, deep breaths.” he said. Papyrus took haggard, shaky breaths that didn’t seem to be working, and he just sobbed harder with mutters of how he couldn’t do anything right with mindless babbling. “shh, you’re fine, you’re fine. try to take deep breaths, like me.” Sans took in a deep breath saying, “in”, followed by exhaling and saying, “out.” Sans repeated the steps as Papyrus’ breathing was haggard and filled with hiccups.

It felt like an eternity, Papyrus felt like he was suffocating, that he was dying. He was scared of it for once but at the same time, he sort of welcomed it. Maybe Sans was right. Maybe he wanted to fall. Maybe he wanted to die and didn’t realize it. He was already so tired and was probably such a burden on Sans, his brother would be better off without him. Yet, why does his brother’s encouragement say otherwise?

“c’mon hon, just breathe for me. in and out. you’re gonna be fine, just focus on your breathing.” Papyrus’ skull was tilted up, and through blurry sockets he saw his brother’s face. “Look at me, in and out. just breathe alright? look at me and breathe.” He grabbed one of Papyrus’ hands and put it against his rib cage, doing example of the breathing.

Papyrus begun trying again, crying harder when he failed.

“that’s okay pap, just try again.” Sans spoke softly. Comfort. Papyrus felt selfish for wanting more of it.

The two kept going, Papyrus skipping breaths but soon picking up on a rhythm. Through his sniffing and hiccuping, he was hearing his brother praise him.

“that’s right, there you go. that’s great papyrus. that’s really great. keep going, in and out. with me. i’m not going anywhere, okay? i’m going to stay right with you. i’m right here.” Once Papyrus was hiccuping with no sign of hyperventilation again, Sans pushed his brother’s skull to his chest and placed his own skull on top of his, rocking the both of them again. “... i’m sorry.” he murmured. “i shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. you don’t need to deal with that.”

Papyrus hiccuped, his hand getting pulled away from picking his carpals, instead gripping and feeling the skeletal hand that had been rubbing the side of his skull seconds ago.

“... I wanna die.”

Sans shushed him, shaking his head. “no, no you don’t.”

“I do though.”

“you don’t wanna die hon.”

“But I do.” he said. “Because it’d be better if I did.”

“no.” Sans shook his head, placing a kiss on Papyrus’ skull with his teeth before resting his own skull back on his. “no, it wouldn’t be better if you did.”

“No one would care.”

“i would care.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Sans grip tightened with a hitch of a breath. “papyrus... that’s-- why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“no, that’s not-- papyrus,” Sans moved away slightly, tilting his brother’s d up to meet eye sockets. Sans face had stains with leakage still occurring. “pap, i don’t want you to die. i’d be-- i’d be crushed if you did. i wouldn’t--”

“You’d forget about me.”

Sans expression could be summed up with one word. Heartbroken.

“papyrus…” His voice sounded hoarse and desperate, something Papyrus had never heard before. “n-no i-- i wouldn’t just move on like it was nothing. i wouldn’t-- i couldn’t ever forget about you.”

“Then what would you do?” he asked. “Would you come to my funeral?” The question came absentmindedly. He looked down to his hands, picking at his carpals. “That would be nice. To have someone ther--”

“papyrus!” Sans brought Papyrus in a tight grip hug, sobbing into the younger’s shoulder shaking his head, the smaller of the two looking out with wide sockets blankly. “y-you can’t--! don’t die! please, please, please, don’t die! d-don’t, y-you-- you can’t-- you can’t just leave me!” Sans was the sobbing one now, shaking to the point his bones were rattling. Papyrus just felt the growing dampness on his shoulder grow. “don’t die… please, please, please don’t die papyrus, i-i-i couldn’t-- i don’t think i could handle that. and you have so much to do still… p-please don’t kill yourself.” Sans tightened the hug, curling into his brother. “please.”

Papyrus, 11 years old Papyrus opened the door a crack, scouting down the stairs to hear the TV on and see the kitchen light on, plus some muffled talking. He knew it was stupid, but out the window would’ve been worse. Plus, he didn’t know when the next best chance to do this was. He chickened out whenever his brother fell asleep on the couch as is, and when he wasn’t on the couch, he’d be asleep in Papyrus’ room. Because like a good brother, he still promised to stay there until he fell asleep.

Papyrus took a step forward clutching the strap on his bag, wincing at the creaking. He opened one socket and waited for his brother didn’t. With the coast clear, he moved forward down the stairs, wincing at each squeak made.

“... yeah, yeah. i was just wondering-- … no, it’s just we already planned something out on that day and i wanted to reschedule and i didn’t realize it was the same day as the session.” Sans must’ve been talking to Miss Canopy.

Papyrus didn’t visit her once a week like he used to, but he didn’t go without visiting her at least two or three times a month. He hid on the side of the wall, peeking around the corner to see Sans’ position, quickly hiding when it looked like he was turning to look at him.

He leaned back against the counter looking up to the ceiling. “i know i-- yes. i know.” he spoke sharply. “sorry, i just wanted to get him in since it’s been awhile and when i saw i made an appointment that day, i needed to change it.” he said. “i don’t think i was paying attention when i made it… yeah. yeah i get it. tight schedule and all that… okay,” Sans turned, his elbows on the counter as he continued, “uh, how about instead of sooner we just push it back? … yeah, okay, cool.” Sans moved over to the calendar, flipping the page.

With Sans distracted on the phone and picking dates, this was the perfect time to move. Papyrus stepped away from the wall, backing away keeping his sockets on his brother. He tried his best not to trip, looking back every so often. He held his breath as to not give away his position until he was at the door. He reached over blindly before finding it safe to turn around to try and unlock the door.

Then the dog barked.

“Shh! Sh-shut up stupid dog!” Papyrus hissed as he kept fiddling with the knob, the dog’s barking not calming at all. “Shh! Shut up--!”

“papyrus?” Papyrus froze, looking across the room to see Sans staring at him, phone away from his ear hole. He looked hurt, and it gave weight to Papyrus’ nonexistent heart.

“U-um… i-it’s--” he cleared his throat, “I-IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.” he tried. Of course, Sans wasn’t buying it.

When the voice was speaking up from the phone, Sans snapped out of his daze bringing it back up, “y-yeah, just uh, hold on a sec.” Sans placed the phone to his rib cage and pointed for Papyrus to go to the couch. “sit.” Papyrus didn’t bother trying to argue, moving swiftly to the couch. Sans went back into the kitchen saying, “yeah, yeah, i’m still on…”

Papyrus sighed, dropping the bag to the floor and placing his head in his hands. The dog jumped onto the couch, panting with excitement. Papyrus glared over.

“Annoying dog…” It yipped with delight.

It didn’t take long before Papyrus began hearing Sans excusing himself off the phone.

“yeah, we’ll talk about it later. i’ll call you when i can… yeah, okay… yeah, bye.” Sans stepped out the kitchen looking down at his phone, most likely just hitting the end call button. When his sockets laid on Papyrus, the younger stiffened.

He kept his own sockets to the floor, feeling the paws on his arm until they were removed and replaced with weight on the couch. This can only go poorly.

The two stayed quiet, the only thing heard was the TV with its static. Sans only broke the silence when he said, “the bag.”

Papyrus looked up to see his brother’s hand outstretched. “H-huh?”

“the bag bro. gimme it.” Papyrus didn’t bother fighting, going to give him the item. Sans took it with ease, placing it on his lap and opening it up. Papyrus stayed silent, looking back down to his mittens hearing his brother shuffle through the carrier. “... not even any food…” he mumbled.

There was a strong sheathing noise that caused Papyrus to flinch. Sans said nothing, placing the item to his side away from his brother. There was the sound of crumpled paper, something that it didn’t sound like Sans bothered to try and unfold it. Once done looking through, he set the bag down on the floor and leaned back into the couch.

“... why?” Papyrus picked at his pants, not having an answer. “aren’t you happy here? or at least okay?” He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything to make the situation worse. “papyrus, can you please answer me? ain’t really uh… knife to ignore a question.” Papyrus jolted. “right. sorry. not a good time.”

He waited a few moments before saying quietly, “It’s in the letter--”

“i figured.” he said. “but i don’t wanna read a damn letter. i wanna hear it from you.”

Papyrus hunched over, looking away from Sans. “You won’t like the answer.”

“i know.” he said. “but i want one.” Papyrus closed his fists, not wanting to cry. Sans hunched forward as well, leaning towards Papyrus tilting his head to try and get a better view of his face. “... head getting to you again?” he asked softly. It took little time for Papyrus to nod. He felt Sans’ hand go to his back, rubbing circles. “wanna tell me what you were thinkin’?” He immediately shook his head. “alright.” he said. “that’s fine.”

Sans was used to that by now, for Papyrus to keep things to himself. He used to find it hard for Papyrus not to tell Sans everything, but he found how to live with it. It was nice.

He kept rubbing his back as he continued, “can i ask if you were gonna hurt yourself when you would run off?”

“Kinda already did.”

“you get what i mean you numskull.” he teased.

Papyrus sucked in a breath, before deciding to keep with no words and nod.

“... you weren’t gonna come back, were you?” Papyrus didn’t move his head. “... right.” Sans scooted closer, his arm going around the younger skeleton’s shoulders and pulling him into a side hug, rubbing his arm.

Papyrus was up to Sans’ shoulders now. He joked how he was growing faster than him and how he’d probably reach the ceiling soon. A joke, but sometimes Papyrus thought how that could be the case. He didn’t much like it. Because then Sans wouldn’t be able to engulf him in his hugs like when he was smaller. He hoped he was done growing.

“... not okay to bottle all this up babybones.”

“I know.”

“you gonna talk with the therapist about it then?” Papyrus shifted, leaning more into Sans shoulder. He knew what that answer meant and gave a defeated sigh. “... i don’t want you leaving pap.”

“I know.”

“but i don’t want you feeling like crap.”

“I know.”

“so…” Sans shifted in his seat, “whatcha wanna do?”

Papyrus narrowed his sockets in thought. What did he want to do? “... Can we… can we stay like this?”

“sure.”

“... Can we lay down?”

“sure.”

Sans and Papyrus began adjusting themselves, more so the former than the latter. The cool, sharp utensil was placed to the ground so the two could properly lay on the couch. Sans laid his head down on a pillow he pulled over since, as impressive as he was sleeping in weird places, he did have the comfy preference. Papyrus stayed close, going on one side until he could rest his head on his brother's chest, hearing his SOUL thrum satisfyingly. It was nice and soothing. This whole setup was nice as Sans pulled his convenient blanket that was over the back of the couch over their bodies. He groaned when Papyrus hit a rib.

“Sorry.”

“s’fine.” he mumbled. “not like you broke it.” Sans sighed, rubbing Papyrus’ arm with the hand stuck to the limb that Papyrus laid on top of and held him.

When Sans breathed, Papyrus looked up to see his sockets closed, and he laid his head back down picking at his brother’s shirt. He felt him move his hand up and down his arm still every so often.

They stayed quiet, neither saying anything. Sans was probably trying to sleep, either that or thinking of what to do next. Papyrus on the other hand focused on staying silent, as not to mess up further. Involuntarily he felt a noise rising from his throat. He held it down, sniffing instead. He then turned to bury his face into his brother’s shirt, gripping it tightly. In cooperation, Sans’ hand moved to his back and continued rubbing. Papyrus didn’t even process he was beginning to sob.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m so sor-- sorry…” He kept chanting his apology, as if that would help anything.

He felt phalanges brush against the back and side of his skull and only buried himself further, his apologies making to be his breaths.

“shh, shh, it’s okay. let it out, just let it all out…”

Papyrus’ grip tightened. He didn’t deserve this sort of treatment. He should be getting yelled at or something. Should be having to explain himself, but he just couldn’t. He felt unable to even speak about it. His mind kept repeating with one phrase, his mouth following with. He just wasn’t sure if it was for trying or failing his goal.

“I’m sorry…”

Some days, Papyrus just wouldn’t get up. He, as well as his brother, were proud of his improvements in the waking up department. Slowly but surely, he was waking up before Sans. Which perhaps isn’t such a strong feet considering he would rather sleep until the afternoon, but it was still a feet nonetheless.

The appeal of just being alone in the morning was nice. He could do anything, and Sans wouldn’t have a clue. He could be cooking, he could be drawing, he could be chipping, he could be killing himself, he could be cleaning, and Sans wouldn’t have a clue. And he seemed none the wiser about it.

But some days, Papyrus lacks the energy. Even if he was able to get a decent amount of sleep for once, he can’t seem to push himself out from under the covers. And that was always the first sign for Sans to tell that the day wasn’t going to be good for the younger skeleton. Sometimes Sans knew to leave Papyrus alone in his room, checking up on him every now and again and ensure that he’s eating. Other times, he tries to understand and help. Papyrus just wished he didn’t care so much.

“papyrus?” The voice was soft, as usual for this sort of situation. Next, he heard the door shut followed by foot steps, his bed dipping with new weight. He was under the covers, feeling numb and useless. But what else is new? “hey,” Something went to his shoulder, sliding until it reached to his back, “you feelin’ down again?”

He didn’t bother. It was obvious. And his voice didn’t feel like working today.

Sans stayed silent, keeping his focus on Papyrus. Only when it was clear did he speak up again, “did you stop taking them again?” Papyrus curled up tighter.

He knew his brother didn’t like him doing that. But it was always tempting to just not take them. Since he was 17, he didn’t need supervision. But it only made avoidance all the more easier. And when it’s the next day, he thinks that it’s okay to skip another day. And then he skips again. And again. And again. And then he thinks about how they can’t really help him, so why even bother? They might make him feel better, but it’s not really fixing him. It’s all only temporary. And then inevitably, his brother finds out and gets him taking them again, only for the cycle to continue again.

Sans didn’t make anything clear of his disappointment, but Papyrus knew he had it. He’d be disappointed too. Whether it’d be because he stopped taking them or hadn’t offed himself yet, he wasn’t sure.

“... i’ll get you a pill for tonight, alright?” Papyrus held in the whine. He didn’t want to seem as pathetic as he already was. Sans kept place in making soothing movement onto Papyrus’ back as usual. “... you should find something you wanna do.” he said. “y’know, get a passion or something to motivate you to uh… do things.” He had no idea what that would ever be. And Papyrus knew himself that even if he did find something like that, it would inevitably fall. He always hyped himself up for things only to be let down in the end. He was really good at that. “you want me to stay with you?”

“... No thank you.” he croaked. He already knew his brother probably felt sad with the answer, most likely feeling useless to the situation. Papyrus would admit that the comfort is nice, even though he’s grown past his brother’s height now, but sometimes he just wants to be ignored.

“alright.” he responded. Papyrus felt the hand pull away and the weight off the bed. “i’m gonna get you breakfast and then i’ll leave you alone.”

As Sans walked out, Papyrus relayed how it’d go on as usual. He’d give him breakfast, probably the oatmeal with gummy dinosaur eggs as that was his favorite, and watch him to ensure he ate all of it. After, he’d try to linger until he figured to follow what Papyrus wanted, still checking on him more often than he’d like, finishing the night with eating dinner and a pill.

The constant check ups was what he got for almost killing himself last year Papyrus supposed. It was a failed attempt obviously, and bad timing on his part. He shouldn't have waited for an hour and did it right after Sans checked up on him. But he didn’t, and his brother found him with an attempt at a noose. The rope didn’t hold his weight long enough to actually succeed. Maybe it was because Sans did something and he just didn’t notice. Or perhaps nooses just don't work for skeletons. Either way, his brother checks on him far more often.

Often enough to not let him do anything. Often enough to not let him build up the confidence to do anything. Because he’d check, and would comfort a little bit before leaving. Telling him how much he loved him. Telling him to get better. Helping him get more comfortable in his sheets. Offering to stay. And Papyrus would then feel guilty about thinking of leaving and put it off.

He admits he's glad the attempt never went through though. Even if the thought of trying again keeps coming up.

“paps,” He felt himself be nudged, “c’mon, you need to sit up.”

“I’m fine.” he spoke, his voice strained. That wouldn’t help his case, and he knew that well.

“nu-uh, you need to eat. so sit up.” Not feeling like arguing, Papyrus groaned as he began sitting up, his bones popping to help release stiffness in his body. “there you go. there’s my happy papy.” Papyrus narrowed his sockets once his face was finally uncovered. “or not so happy papy right now. you’re more like a saddy… papy…”

“That isn’t even a word.” he took the bowl Sans offered to him. Oatmeal as expected.

“eh,” Sans laid back onto the bed, “worth a shot.”

The two didn’t talk. Sans would try to make conversation, to cheer Papyrus up with some jokes. It didn’t work, and he just tried eating faster so they could be done with the situation.

Sans didn’t give any time for Papyrus to figure out how to avoid eating, so he ended up eating all of it, downing some milk to help. Once the bowl was out of his hands and the glass on his table with his figurines, he hid back under the sheets of blankets to sulk some more.

Sans stood up asking the expected question, “you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Papyrus nodded, hoping his brother could see. Luckily, that seemed to be the case. Sans grabbed the empty glass, taking a moment to rub what he suspected to be his brother’s shoulder. “i’ll be downstairs if you need me.” As if he wouldn’t be checking in on him every thirty minutes as is. “don’t be afraid to change your mind.”

Papyrus mumbled out nonsense in response, listening for the door to make the clicks that indicated Sans’ departure.

Some days, getting out of bed seemed difficult. Some days, he couldn’t find any ounce of motivation to live a day.

One day, Sans asked him if he was interested in the royal guard.