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My...? [Papyrus startles at the offer, and while his expression is still tired, his reaction isn't particularly subdued, even for him.] Wh-Why would you...? I mean, I guess you've been seeing those texts. And I admit, it's not great looking! But, last time it was in the teens. This is nothing!

[There's some reflexive boastfulness, some of course the Great Papyrus can handle anything, even partially dulled emotions, to his response. There's an uneasiness, discomfort with losing his emotional balance in the overwhelming rush - not helped with how the last weeks have gone. And...]

...Can you manage happy, right now? [It's a little bit concern for Sans, with everything. A little bit wistful, with how he's struggling for it. A little bit hopeful.]

[A fair question, even if Sans is a little distracted with the idea of Papyrus's emotions having gotten so far down they were nearly in the single digits that first time Sans had fixed them. Still, Sans gives the question actual, non-dismissive thought.]

I'm not gonna say it's the best time for it, but yeah, probably. I can work off memory. [He'd need some time to rev it up, he thinks, but he has happy memories of Papyrus to work with, and so it doesn't seem completely out of his reach.] It'd probably take longer. We can wait 'til after if you want.

[Papyrus briefly half-smiles, a mix of sad satisfaction at something confirmed, and something commiserating to hear it. He had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as that, for either of them to drag each other up out of all this.]

Yeah, after is very what I want. I still have backups to do, anyway! And I don't need another... [He trails off, hesitating, then sets his jaw as he braces himself. It's easier to take initiative to start the conversation, with his feelings somewhat numbed, and the worry about how it could go less worrying. And yet it's harder to take initiative, to go into any real details, with so much less optimism about how it could go. He summarizes.] ...I don't need another unhappy reset, right now. It's going way slower, we have time.

[And if they don't have time, because everything goes to shit all at once, then everything's gone to shit anyway and a third of his feelings being missing will hardly be the biggest thing on their minds. That's some kind of pessimistic optimism.]

Right. [Sans is pretty sure he could stop himself from forcing negative emotions on Papyrus, but it's not something he'd want to risk if Papyrus thinks it's a possibility. It's true Sans isn't exactly at his best right now.] So I guess we're talking, then.

[Somehow. It's a lot to talk about.]

Y-Yeah. [Papyrus wrings gloved hands again for a few seconds.] Let's, uh... Actually! I'll list things out. Let me know if I miss any, I promise I won't take as any kind of hint. [Maybe it'll be easier to talk about talking about things, and accidentally and casually sidle into one of the topics.]

Firstly, there's... Well, there's my emotions, and the draining thing... again. There's the splitting in two emotions thing, and how extreme everyone got... [Even the pieces that were broadcast to the network hinted at some big life choices that people will be dealing with ramifications from.] There's... some things, in particular, that various skeletons said. About what we live for, or... or not living, for a while. And there's the terrible choices people are making! Or recently made. [With an effort, he doesn't outright look at the soul floating over the table. Not directly. He just glances, briefly, pointedly, like the hint of attention her way will distract from the question of what Sans lives for or how many times various skeletons remember dying.]

[Sans is perfectly still, and so he doesn't so much as twitch when Papyrus lists off all of their options. In his mind, he's trying to go back over what was said about each topic. Some are easier to think about than others.]

Well. Pretty safe to say my negative emotions shouldn't get a body all to themselves. [That sounds almost like a joke, though it's not quite. It's just so natural to talk like that, to soften and lighten things. Anyway, he can continue with that.] But not the positive ones either. ...Works better with both, I guess.

[Which is strange to admit, when not that long ago he had wanted to dump his negative emotions entirely. He's changed his mind on that.]

Mmhmm. Yeah, I veto any more splitting in two! Not a recommended experience for anyone. [It starts light and jokey enough, matching the initial tone a little. But his voice drops off as he goes, in volume and cheer, to something quieter and serious. Like he's reluctant to say this too loudly.] Even before things got too intense. Just... not being able to cheer up, at all...?

[His negative self had been awake for a while, he realized over time - each half realized it, separately. But he's only now really putting together what that was. Fear and shame, and none of Papyrus's practiced positivity to push past it, and it left him hiding in the dark.]

[Sans hums a sound of acknowledgment. Thinking on it now that he has all his emotions again, that was easier to handle than...] I got pretty mad a lot of the time. Must have been annoying. [Okay, it's not like he didn't hear negative Papyrus's opinions on the situation a lot, but recombined Papyrus might have more nuanced thoughts.]

Everything was annoying. And nothing was. [But that's the easy answer, the deflecting and avoidant answer. He can hear the hint of fishing for perspective, validation, and maybe reassurance - or maybe he's assuming, because that's what he'd want.] Okay, I didn't like that I couldn't, well... couldn't reason with you! But I couldn't reason with either of you. Or me, or much of anybody.

...Fighting was better than apathy. [He says, like he's not letting his own emotions slowly numb out. But even mostly numbed he'd still wanted things and worked towards them, actively going through the motions. The relative passivity of apathy...]

[Sans laughs--just a quick sharp sound--because it's something he's thought before. Apathy is more his style, of course, but sometimes...] You'd think I'd be too lazy to keep it up, y'know? Maybe that's why I kept going back and forth. [From anger to sadness, demanding to avoidant.] I, uh--

[Sans hesitates. He knew he would, which is why he started talking anyway. Just something to let Papyrus know he's trying to form words. Words usually come easily to Sans, but that's because he's so good at filling the air with pointless things.]

Before I died. Right before. While I was--you know what I was doing. Anyway. I was really mad. Just--really, really mad. So maybe that's why. Or maybe it has something to do with it, anyway. I don't know. [It's not as if Sans has dealt with that anger. It's not as if it wasn't there before he actually fought the anomaly. It's not like there's not always something there, some sense that everything going on isn't fair. But it's like he said: he's lazy. He can't keep that up. He's tired.]

[Papyrus doesn't hide agreement that they'd both expect Sans to be too lazy to keep it up, and he waits patiently enough for the rest of the idea, in no hurry to speak painful words of his own. But this description of anger...]

Angry with everyone and everything, huh? [Maybe he's reading into that - obviously Sans was mad at the murderous human, in the middle of fighting them. But given how immediately Sans - the unhappy one - had been talking like Papyrus would trip over something and die, the moment he was out of sight and maybe even before then... He half-smiles again, rueful. They hadn't had enough time to talk, in Snowdin. Or, maybe, they'd failed to talk thousands of times. Room to be angry with him for dying, either way.]

No, just--I don't know. [Denying the extent of his anger is natural, but if he tries to be more honest, it's harder for him to be sure about. He'd been so angry.] I mean, mostly it was at, y'know, the thing that murdered everybody. [That he is sure about. The anomaly had been the main target.]

Hmmm. [He's skeptical, but doesn't push it. He has a finite amount of pushing, today, he suspects - and Sans a finite amount of being pushed. Picking his battles.] Yeah, that's plenty of reason to be mad! I was mad with them. I knew they could choose differently, and... And...

[He remembers getting that offered hug. He remembers fighting, and locking them in the shed. He remembers watching them burn spaghetti with Undyne, remembers crying to see them unconscious near the barrier...?] W-Well, I guess I was right. Even if they didn't take me up on it, there.

[Sans had been doing so well with keeping himself still, but now his his fingers scrape against the couch as he balls them up.] Doesn't matter. In the end, none of that mattered. [And oh, he is angry about that. There's a difference between knowing intellectually and remembering the things they did. And those times they'd been nice, right now he thinks that makes him angrier than the times they'd hurt people. Because he knows where it ended up.

Sans is one person again; he's able to keep himself under control. But this particular sort of anger is more in line with his negative counterpart. It runs very deep, even if Sans tries to ignore it. Nonetheless, the tone is probably familiar from the time Papyrus spent having to listen to negative Sans.]

[Papyrus's gaze shifts to follow the motion and sound, before drifting back up to his brother's face.] ...Because, the last time, we ended up here? [He's wary, in asking - and not because of the anger itself, which he's familiar enough with to recognize by now. More because the suspicion that they have profoundly different opinions on it all, and partly... He doesn't want to think about it. Too existential.]

[Sans comes back to himself, which is to say he really thinks about what he's saying. His expression goes from dark to alarmed as he stares at Papyrus. Then he looks away, down at his hands.] I don't know how to talk about this. You should be the one mad at me. If anyone's gonna be mad at anybody else.

Hey, don't take all the mad for yourself, I have plenty of it to go around. [Like Sans might recognize in himself, Papyrus offers this with a jokey tone - to lighten the mood a little from wherever his brother is starting to go. But it's also not a joke at all.] My anger about dying is super reserved already. Why would I be more mad with you?

[Silence. And then, finally:] Because I knew what was happening. About the timelines. About what they could do.

[Papyrus turns that over in his mind, trying to wring words out of Sans's visible struggle to say anything. It's a little bit a struggle himself, trying to keep things from getting too grim, trying to keep himself from retreating from talking at all, while making sense himself. Sans knew something about timelines...]

...Maybe you knew a little more than me. [He concedes the notion slowly, in no hurry to explain just how much Flowey had predicted to him - how much more he senses he heard, at some point or another. It hadn't included a warning of how quickly the human could kill him, tough as he was, after all. He'd gone into that confrontation afraid, but genuinely expecting to have a chance to respond to their response. It doesn't feel like he ever had one.] I saw they could kill... And they seemed, familiar. But could knowing that have changed anything...?

[Sans doesn't really know how he expected Papyrus to react. He doesn't think it was like this. Does Papyrus know something? That flower... Isn't the point of what happened in the end, is it?]

I don't know, 'cause I never said anything. I could have. [He could list off the reasons, if Papyrus asked, but Sans doesn't really think that they matter when it comes to why Papyrus should be upset at him.] I was keeping track of the timelines. Couldn't see into them, but I knew they were happening. I knew the whole time.

[Papyrus makes a thoughtful sound, unhelpfully not agreeing with Sans's expectations, or otherwise going along with any confession script. Instead he leans forward, looking at Dinah's soul again, carefully not looking Sans's way.]

... Okay, I think I hear what you're saying. It's terrible watching someone screw up so much! And easy to start thinking... If you said the right thing, they'd do something better. [Heck, he was thinking things along those lines several minutes ago. Hearing this from Sans is jostling him a little out of it, though.] But in the end... they're the one making their choices. The one responsible for what they did! If you're at fault for that, then... What about all my great advice, over the years? Are your problems my fault??

[The question is mostly rhetorical, but there's more of a thread of earnestness in it than he intended, and he's tense as he glances back Sans's way.]

No. [Sans's answer is sharp and immediate.] You didn't do anything wrong. And it's not your responsibility anyway. I just--you give advice, right? And when you left the house, I didn't say anything. I could have said something.

[He didn't even try. Papyrus should be mad at him.]

[Well, okay, there's something to that. Trying to give advice versus not bothering, and Papyrus is always annoyed with Sans for not bothering. But...]

Do you even know what to say now? [His gaze flicks between Sans's face and various eyes of his halo, not sure if he wants to be seeing something of his brother's expression, or if he wants his to be seen.]

[Sans is still staring down at his hands, though that doesn't stop him from being able to see Papyrus just fine with his halo. His expression is somewhere between exhausted and upset. He can't see his own face at this angle; the only eyes he had that could are situated on the wall behind the couch, and he's glad for that.]

I'm sorry. [It's a very quiet response. He doesn't think it's the right thing to say, but it's the only thing he can think of. He's never known how to talk about the timeline situation. He never planned on talking about it.]

[Papyrus's face falls at the apology, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he heaves a staticky sigh.]

...Sans. That's... It's hard to say, right? A whole year for second guessing yourself, and it's still hard to say! I don't blame you for that. [He considers, then adds:] I don't blame you for any of that.

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sleep crimes tag

illegal tagging hours

don't know why I'm not asleep, but I'm giving it another shot after this

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raises extra hours of sleep over my head like i'm link legend-of-zelda opening a chest

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