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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.

Why not? [Papyrus should. Or Sans thinks Papyrus should. Nobody else is around who would care. It's not that he wants Papyrus to be mad at him, but-- Of course, there had been a lot of anger and fighting while they were split in two parts. Still, that doesn't seem like it should count.]

Why not...? [Papyrus's face squeezes up, and he raises his hands in a shaking, helpless shrug.] Why do I have to be mad at you? I... I don't want to be, isn't that enough? [The edge of frustration in his voice gets stronger, as he deflects with the painfully earnest question:] Aren't you mad at me, for dying?

No. [Which is true. He was never mad at Papyrus for dying. He was angry at the anomaly and at himself, and maybe at the world in general, but not at Papyrus.] It's not like I want you to be mad at me. [He hates when Papyrus is mad at him.] I--don't know. Someone should be mad at me.

[As if he doesn't take care of that himself, or something. Sans has never been good at explaining his own feelings.]

Someone else, besides you? [Because that's clear enough, isn't it? That Sans is angry with himself, so deeply his halves barely worked together.

Still, Papyrus drops his arms from the shrug like he's resigned to how his brother will respond - unchanging, stuck in some notion of thinking badly about himself and then treating himself badly, and smiling like it's all a joke. His fans kick in louder, like a sigh at the thought of it.]

...It hurts to think highly of yourself, sometimes. Did you know? Especially starting out! I might make it look easy, but...

[But. Sans wanting someone else to be angry with him, Papyrus wanting others to think he's great... There's an appeal in having these things confirmed from the outside. Validated. Realer. And that matters, but. But it's no replacement for starting with it from inside.]

'Course you make it look easy, you're a super cool guy. [It's automatic, like call and response, though maybe it's not the most helpful right now when they're trying to have an actual discussion about feelings. Maybe having an actual discussion about feelings was the mistake. He scrubs at his face.] I dunno how this conversation is supposed to be going.

[Usually he has an idea--conversational road maps plotted out in his head complete with alternate routes, shortcuts, and potential sightseeing destinations. With this one, it's like trying to navigate through the void.]

[Papyrus's face falls a little too, in a unhappy half-smile way, at the too-rote response. They really both practice lines to repeat, huh?

But then his brother continues, and surprise overtakes Papyrus's resignation.]

Supposed...? I don't want to think about a supposed to with this at all. Who would be deciding what's supposed?

[He's thinking of a human, dusty gloves on their hands, deciding who would live and who would die. He's thinking of Ozpaka, grabbing at Sans's soul before Papyrus realized it, Jonas talking about how they should behold the wonder and horror of it all. He's thinking of himself, half of himself, hiding in a dark place with his extra vision all deactivated - the better not to see his fears. He shivers.]

...No, this is... Trying to talk. Without... hurting anyone about it. [Each other, themselves...]

I'm usually better at talking, y'know? [Sans's expression quirks up just a little. A little joke, but also a true statement, because usually when Sans talks he's not being even a tenth this honest. Sans is good at weaving his way through a typical conversation, sure, but he's been keeping this sort of thing behind his teeth for a very long time. He tries to focus.] Uh. The timeline thing. You don't seem that surprised.

Sometimes things seemed... familiar. [Papyrus concedes as much with only a little hesitation, because back underground... It wasn't just those moments after the human showed up. Before it, too. And if he's nudging Sans to be a little more honest than usual, then he can be the bigger skeleton, and admit:] And also, that friend I mentioned, who gave advice, said things sometimes. Timeline things would make sense!

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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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