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[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!

[At the mention of Papyrus's flower friend--of Flowey--Sans's expression stiffens, frozen momentarily in a grin that doesn't really mean anything. It's a habit he's had for a long time. But being able to remember Flowey, some of the things Flowey did... That he'd told Papyrus enough that Papyrus could piece things together isn't that surprising with context.] I thought he might have been the one causing the timeline issues, but I never met him this time, yeah? So I wasn't sure. Then the human--whatever it was, it showed up.

[At that point, Flowey's theoretical existence hadn't mattered. But, speaking of context, Sans has inadvertently admitted that he's been working at this problem for years, and that might explain some things about said last few years.]

And messed up all your guesswork, huh? [Human or whatever, as the case may be. Papyrus isn't about to go underground demanding answers from Ozpaka. Especially not if there's already some foolhardy kids thinking about doing so, who'll just run in faster if the skeletons take after them... He shakes it off. Papyrus can guess that Sans has been worrying at this for some time, because... it does fit with some of his brother's tendencies.]

...I don't know if I would have told you, if I knew you wanted to know. Since, it wasn't my secret. And I didn't know this time anyway! But... [Nothing this time, nothing so clear. But the notion is familiar to him, the more he pokes at it - like the flower had confessed everything to him, in long ago (yet not) loops of time. Maybe they had tested out what Papyrus could accomplish, with that kind of power on request...? He doesn't wince, deliberately, as his phone pings Sans's with an update of another percentage of emotional processing lost - there's a lot of compressed memories sitting around in him somewhere, and poking at it like this takes up more and more storage.]

Well, I'm pretty sure I was getting readings from both of 'em. Just couldn't tell they were two different, uh--whatevers. [Flowey is a monster, or was a monster, Sans remembers that much. The anomaly, though... Sans's phone goes off and he checks it automatically. More emotion reduction. From this conversation?] Should we keep talkin' about this stuff?

[They probably should, in the sense of "we never talk about this stuff and probably should do that". But if it's draining Papyrus's emotions...

Of course Sans just doesn't comment on any feelings he may or may not have about Papyrus not telling him about Flowey. But really, it only seems fair where Sans is standing. Sans didn't tell Papyrus about this stuff either until right now.]

Why not? [For a couple words, his tone is reflexively whimsical, like he has no idea why Sans is asking.] Sure, there's plenty of other conversational offerings on the conversation menu, but...

[He hasn't glanced at Sans's phone itself, not too openly, but he noted Sans going for the phone and seeing it. Another percentage drop. If he keeps poking at that sense of too many memories, there might be more. And the idea of having this conversation, only to forget it due to reset emotions glitching it away...? He shivers, with that now-familiar metallic rattle.] But, I should probably, go grab a hard drive. And start doing backups, while we talk.

Well, if you're sure. [Though at least there'll be a break while Papyrus goes to get a hard drive. This conversation is exhausting and Sans could use some time to try and straighten out his thoughts. He'll still be on the couch when Papyrus gets back, though the idea of running off while he had the opportunity did flicker through his mind. But hey, he's still here. Good job Sans.]

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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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