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[Five more minutes, and Sans teleports to the kitchen. At least he's got leftover pizza to eat; that's even easier than cereal. He'll have to make the coffee, but he can deal with that. He's brought the electric blanket, unplugged and trailing around like a long fluffy cape held up by his wings.]

[It's a much slower, longer night than Papyrus had figured on. He'd requested it off, the better to be around for stargazing going late.

Which. It didn't. Not technically. It did for him, personally, in the sense of lying on the living room couch for a while, all the room's lights turned off, the better to stare up at the glowing plastic. Prettier than he'd expected. They were yellow-green instead of blue-purple, but apparently larger than real stars, which made them feel more like the view in the far side of Waterfall.

As the plastic stars fade and the homesickness gets to be too much, he heads to his workshop instead. The neighbors would complain if he used power tools, even if Sans wouldn't, so he sticks to the digital. This time, testing an expansion of an idea from the other week. If he can download things, saving them somewhere in the machinery making up his body... can he upload things, too? What if he thinks really hard about the view from the bridge outside Snowdin, can he make an image of it, no drawing involved...?

By the time reflected sunlight starts filling the workshop with bright glares, he's made several more discoveries with this ability, and even made a digital photo album of home. Some of the details are a little fudged and filled in with guesswork and imagination... But it's something. Of course, it's been hours since he's eaten anything, and as much as he's fully charged from being plugged in for so long, he could use a food... and also, to finish cleaning up? Whoops.

By the time Sans enters the kitchen, Papyrus is at the sink washing dishes and humming an MTT TV commercial jingle, with water heating on the stovetop. He doesn't turn at his brother's appearance, since the new teleportation's more subtle - no sound or visual to go with it.]

[Of course Papyrus is in the kitchen. Sans almost teleports back to his room on sheer reflex, standing stupidly where he appeared for a moment as he tries to decide what to do. Papyrus doesn't seem to be in a terrible mood, at least; Sans hates to ruin it. But Sans is already in the kitchen. He can be pretty quiet, but he can't sneak food from the fridge when Papyrus is right there. Anyway, if he goes back to his room now, he'll have to go through the process of getting up all over again to leave for work.]

Morning. [Sans keeps his tone casual and calm; his usual tone. But he doesn't say anything besides that, preferring to test the waters by watching Papyrus's reaction. Still dragging the blanket along with him, soaking up the residual heat, he finally heads for the refrigerator like he planned.]

[Papyrus startles a little at the sound, more than he can hide even with an exaggerated stretch, but he goes for the stretch as he places another piece of the disassembled blender into the drying rack.]

Oh, uh... morning. [Not a 'good morning,' and maybe that's no surprise. He had half expected not to see Sans at all today, and that part is. The sheer number of eyes watching him as Sans shambles towards the fridge is a surprise too, and not exactly a comforting one. But... Papyrus smiles a little.] So the blanket's a hit, huh? [He's as ready as ever to pat himself on the back for a job well-done, if that part's going without a hitch.]

Yeah. [Sans is talking around a mouthful of pizza even if he can't actually open his mouth. He's got a slice in each hand, and he puts the one he hasn't bitten into yet down on the counter so he can make coffee.

Sans would be fine with never talking about what happened last night again. But he's not sure if Papyrus will bring it up.] I'd take it to work with me but there aren't any plugs in the ruins. [Also it would get extremely dusty. And Sans probably doesn't need more heat out in the middle of the ruins.]

[The food-in-mouth tone is as reassuringly normal as it is annoying. Papyrus rolls his eyes and reaches for another piece to scrub... and hesitates. That reminds him of some concerns the last night.]

Yeah, about that... [He takes a few seconds to search for the right words, holds the blender piece under the slow flow of the water. Watching the water flow is a good excuse not to pick which eye(s) to look back at.] About those rocks. Are they... from the ruins? Those symbols you like? [Is there any chance Sans is being weird not because of changes directly, but because he's invited a secret whispering chorus to accompany him to sleep every night?]

[Sans is careful to keep himself still when Papyrus talks. He's pretty good at holding still, and waiting, and doing anything except taking action. But at least Sans can answer Papyrus's question without lying.] Nah, not from there. Don't think they'd like me smashing things into even more pieces. [Not lying, but not going into detail about what they are, either.]

Oh good. [Papyrus sighs and some of the tension drifts from his shoulders.] That's exactly why I worried! I wanted to ask last night, but...

[Well, but. After everything else last night... He didn't want to risk the answer being yes, and fighting about it. So even with the origin of those rocks still a mystery, he sets in to scrubbing with a little more cheer.]

[With that but hanging in the air, Sans wants to elaborate on the rocks even less. He tries willing the coffee to brew faster instead.] Don't worry about it. [Don't worry about him, in general, but Sans doesn't think Papyrus can do that. With the coffee resisting his willpower, Sans takes his usual spot at the table instead. He rests his head on his arms on the table, but that doesn't stop him from watching Papyrus. He's got plenty of eyes to do that with.] Nobody's gonna miss those rocks. [Sans is the only one who ever visits that particular graveyard, which is probably why so much of it is falling apart. It's easy to pick up pieces and take them home.]

Also good to hear! [If he were any less determined to clean this blender and seek the positive side of things, he'd be almost suspicious at how specifically targeted these answers are. As it is...] But don't worry about me worrying. I know how to pace my worrying! [Bent truth, some bravado, but he leaves little room for argument as he continues.] Somehow I suspect you stayed up late, tying yourself up in knots about... well, whatever happened last night. I'm a little surprised you're already awake.

[Even with it being new-normal for him to be awake this early. It's not the most subtle invitation to explain things, if Sans has figured out any explanations yet, but it's more invitation than guilt trip. He glances over - so many eyes, still on him - and back to the task at hand in the sink.]

[Okay, they are talking about this, then. Sans briefly considers the merits of playing dead. He takes another bite of pizza.] The sun always wakes me up. [He says, finally, which he knows isn't what Papyrus wants to talk about, but is easier to handle.] The sun lamp's the same. But normal lightbulbs help me sleep.

[Well, it's more that they chase away the darkness that sets him on edge.]

...Oh. [Sounds like turning the light on may have created a sleepless window in which Sans did more self-recrimination in... Oops, again. Papyrus gives another scrub to loosen the last bits of caked-on battery smoothie, and rinses it off.] That's, good to know. I thought it was just the chance to be in the sunlight...

[He's fully noticing the unanswered parts of his comments, but... but. The idea of pushing his brother about them seems more alarming than usual. For surely nonsensical reasons not worth exploring too deeply, but... He deposits the piece in the sink, grabs the next.]

[Sans shrugs, even though Papyrus is washing dishes so he can't exactly see it.] I didn't know until last night. It's dumb, right? 'S not something that should mess with me. [It's not just the issues with sleep that he's really talking about there.]

Well. [Papyrus glances over too late for the shrug, but he can see Sans's overall body language of resting his head on the edge of the table, and that conveys enough. Especially since glancing over means seeing the eyes watching him back, which sends him back to focusing on the dishes. Some things are just easier to talk about when he's pretending they're not hyper-focused on the conversation, after all.]

That sounds like, a little more knot-tying. Which I am not about to encourage. I will only admit it took us both by surprise. Your stuff... doesn't seem to have as coherent a theme, as mine. [Robot stuff being helpfully outlined by Mettaton's stories and various science fiction, and somewhat familiar with general exposure to computers, after all. Not like the, uh, bird stuff.]

Last night, I, uh. [And Sans doesn't want to say this out loud, like that will make it even more true, but he could have hurt Papyrus last night. It's not the same as the other secrets Sans keeps from Papyrus.] I wanted to go there. Into space. But not, like--I mean. I wanted to go back. To the void. [That was supposed to only be happening because he ate something weird that one time. But it's coming back. It's not even the first time since then he's felt that way, although while everything with Dylan was happening Sans hadn't had time (and certainly not the inclination) to examine it.]

[Papyrus pauses mid-scrub, slowly starts to scrub again, and stops. Turns to look at his brother, and for longer than just a glance.] Back... to the void...? [Repeating the words himself confirms that, yes, that sounds familiar.] You mean... That stuff, when I was rusting...?

Yeah. [Sans sits up, though he can't bring himself to turn properly toward Papyrus. Of course, that doesn't stop Sans from watching him.] Last night I believed that again. For a little while. [He snapped out of it, but it still happened.]

What the heck? But that was months and months ago. [Maybe not that many months, but it was back before the whole house situation, so it feels long ago. Still, Papyrus's tone is more rhetorical confusion than an actual question for Sans. He drops the half-scrubbed piece in the sink and turns to lean against it.] Has that... happened before? Weird thoughts... coming back?

[It's a concerning question even as he asks. He's found himself wondering about some of the weird things he's believed, wondering if there were bits of truth to them, but he hasn't reacted so obviously poorly - he thinks.]

[Now Sans glances at Papyrus with his usual eyes.] Last month. But I thought I was just stressed out. [He was stressed out, of course. But maybe he should have mentioned the specifics of that particular feeling to Papyrus. Oops.]

...Last month... [He's not certain when Sans means, and isn't sure he wants to ask, so he lets the echo trail off there. Instead, he shakes his head.] I should tell you, I have not found myself thinking that stuff again... The void god stuff. Not even when you brought us back in...

Well, one of us shouldn't be. [But at least he's not infecting Papyrus with it by touching him anymore. Of course, he didn't touch Papyrus until after he'd snapped back out of it.] When I'm-- [--more broken than usual. --going extra crazy. --spacing out.]--like that, I still think you're one too. [He still wants to take Papyrus along with him, whatever that means. Looking at it from the outside, it's harder to figure out his own motives.]

Still...? Guess I'm glad your weird thoughts aren't leaving me out. [Somewhat conflicted gladness, if he's being entirely honest. But at least that's... including him. And not in a way that's likely to knock him off the roof, or any other bizarre and unlikely thing with no reason to be imagining anything of the sort. He shakes his head again, ] Not, uh... Not so glad, void god thoughts have anything against smoothies. It didn't make me even a little sick. [So it clearly wasn't anything about worrying for Papyrus's well-being.]

It was the noise. [Which he says mostly because he remembers saying it. It had been the noise, for some reason, and it was different from Papyrus talking, because...?] Not a lot of smoothies in the void. [Which is half a joke, but he's pretty sure that was kind of the reason.] Or--things. In general. There's you, and there's me, and... [Sans is starting to sound... A little distant...] And light. Like when you close your eyes. You don't see darkness, your mind makes some light. [Eigengrau.] It's supposed to be like that.

...Supposed to be, huh. [It's already happening again, and the morning's barely started. Papyrus grimaces again, but not as nervously as in talk of power grids or smoothie destruction. He's still leaning against the sink, after all, several feet away from where Sans is apparently drifting into space directly from the kitchen table. It's enough distance to feel less apprehensive, and venture some questions - for the sake of asking, or jostling Sans back to sense, alike.] Do you suppose... I could make this light, shape into a smoothie, and drink it? Or some other drink. It doesn't have to be a smoothie.

[That's a really weird question, and it makes Sans hesitate.] Why would you want to-- [Right. Because Papyrus needs to drink things sometimes to live. Because Papyrus is a monster, not a void god. Because Sans also isn't a void god. Carefully, like he has to walk across a pane of glass, he lowers his head back down onto the table, burying his face in the pillow of his arms. Even his halo of eyes are closed for the moment. He didn't break anything. He didn't do anything at all, he just said some weird stuff. Okay.]

Okay. Trying to think about how I think when I'm like that's a bad idea.

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that was a good and necessary pun

😎

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