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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.]

[Papyrus shrugs before leaving - he's not sure sure about it, but sure enough. They could both use a couple minutes break - an actual break, he hopes. After all, he already left for a break once, and look how things changed in his absence! But it doesn't seem to repeat, so there's relief and approval on his face when he returns to no strange text and Sans still on the couch.

Of course, Papyrus now has three external hard drives tucked under his arms, which might give away a little of his own worries about it all. But he doesn't draw attention to them as he starts talking, aside from settling them onto the side table and plugging them into wall outlets and himself.] Right. Okay! I was thinking, while I was gone. 'Readings'...? You definitely know something more than me, no maybe about it.

[Sans watches Papyrus plug in the hard drives, but his expression doesn't so much as twitch. A little bit of withdrawal, as he steels himself to keep talking about this. About things he should have told Papyrus a long time ago.] That's the work negative me was talking about. I was using computers to track things. I had reports. Read-outs. I could see the timelines, kind of. Not what was happening in them, or which we were in, but a basic visual representation. Might as well have been looking at spaghetti by the end. [Still, he had something to look at. Data to go over, and over, and over.] Spaghetti, and then--nothing.

Spaghetti maps of timelines... [With how many times he feels like he's lived some days, he can very well imagine that a visual representation of it would resemble spaghetti as much as anything else - a tangle of lines, with some imparseable clumps.] And then nothing... They all, uh, cut out at once? When we...

[He doesn't gesture at his neck, or at Sans's chest. The jerky motion of his hand cuts off and goes still too quickly for that. But, maybe it's not about when they died, as important to him as that is. Maybe it's when the something underground pulled them out of their respective underground and into this canyon.] I mean, that sounds, very theoretical sciencey? Astonishingly so to even have visual representations at all!

[Sans doesn't want to talk about the end, even if it already happened. Talking about the machinery he was using is easier.] The timeline stuff--a lot of it's quantum physics, y'know? I helped build the machines--put the magic in it, mostly--but even now I don't remember helping build it. Just know I did. [He couldn't fix everything, just put enough back together to know too much about the mess they were in. Can't go back. Now he doesn't even have the machinery, but maybe that's for the best.]

...This was going on a while, huh. [The words emerge slowly, because yes Sans had hinted as much a couple minutes ago... But as things they don't really talk about or acknowledge go, that gaping confusion about their pasts is the confusion. He hesitates a moment, deciding what to ask.] And you were checking them, all those years?

Yeah. [An impossibly long time, if you stretch out all the timelines. Now that Sans can remember them, he's not sure what sort of implications that might have for his psyche. Well, it's not like the emotions didn't build up even if he couldn't remember them. A lot of the damage was already done. (But if he thinks "it probably can't get worse" he's just dooming himself, so he doesn't.)] Tried fixing the rest for a while--well, you know about that, a little. [About the machine in the basement, and how Sans had tried to fix it before eventually mostly giving up. Sans didn't tell Papyrus that the bits he had managed to get working were giving out timeline data, that's all.] Tracking down the cause I could do. Stopping it...

[Sans could never stop it. Flowey had gotten better and better at hiding, but even in the timelines where the ~~kid~~ anomaly had taken over, Sans had suspicions about that flower that avoided him. The anomaly was about as subtle as a brick to the face to Sans's well-tuned observational skills. But that just meant Sans could watch the train come barreling toward everybody. He couldn't get out of the way. He couldn't stop the train.]

Some people... are really hard to convince, of anything. [Agreement, something edging closer to resignation than he usually lets himself express, especially around Sans. Papyrus shifts, stares at Dinah's soul rather than glance his brother's way. People who want to do something to help, maybe-flowers and maybe-humans with agendas, entities who live deep underground...] I wonder how they did it.

[The curiosity isn't as strong as it would have been, before. Suspicion and fear are stronger, his thoughts continuing to orbit a fearful conclusion one half of him had jumped to, earlier this week, that he can't find it in himself to refute. But maybe it's not connected, maybe there was some mysterious ancient artifact that Flowey unearthed, traveling around in the dirt like that. Maybe something the human could steal. Something that might turn up, and let them try to fix all this mess. That's a better thought, isn't it?]

Determination. [That Sans does know.] A lot of it. More than any monster could hold.

[Sans hesitates. Well. He's already talking. Might as well keep going.]

Undyne--she had it. Not as much as the anomaly, but more than I thought a monster could have. When the anomaly got to her--

[More hesitation. He skips the details.] She died. And came back to fight the human again.

[The way Sans uses the word determination, it doesn't sound like the usual meaning. Maybe there's something familiar to it, from Flowey's stories, or something else...? He doesn't poke at it. It's abruptly easier not to, when Sans keeps going - with a surprise drop of Undyne's name.]

Came... Came back? Again? Undyne did? [Back from dying, he knows Sans said. But back in time, he almost hears, after the last topic.] Th-That sounds like Undyne! Why fight just once, when she could push herself for a whole extra duel.

Yeah. Anomaly got a cheap shot in the first time 'cause she was protecting someone else. You know Undyne'd never let that slide. [Sans manages a little flicker of an expression, bittersweetness that's heavy on the bitter. It was undeniably and extremely Undyne situation. If anyone was going to pull that kind of thing off it was her. But she shouldn't have had to.] She didn't manage the turning back time part, but she made the anomaly do a lot of it.

[It hadn't been fair. Even with Undyne, the anomaly only had to win twice.]

As impressive as I could have expected! [As he did expect, really. Undyne's vehement attitude on humans was clear in their last phone call, and there'd never been any doubt she'd give the human a run for its money. He just hasn't spent much time imagining the fight. Rough enough, remembering those fragmented bits of Sans's, with the brittle mocking accusations and the tricky moves among the golden pillars, ending in death. He hasn't wanted to imagine how Undyne fell.] But, I guess it wasn't impressed. And wouldn't have been, if I'd pulled out all the stops...

[That, he has occasionally imagined. What kinds of cool, complicated moves might have awed and frightened the human into surrendering? It's preferable to imagine weaving attacks together than the accumulating dust and the gaps in neighborhoods forming in its wake. He's occasionally regretted what he went with, the gamble on pushing the human to choose whether to attack someone so blatantly not attacking, or else accept his mercy... But if they were time traveling, then their choice whether to continue really was the deciding factor in it all, and no cool moves would have stopped them.]

[Sans shrugs, which is actually something of an attempt at honesty. It's natural to praise his brother, but the anomaly is something else entirely. Sans is sure that if Papyrus had set his mind to it, he could have held up the anomaly for a long time, but time is exactly the issue with the anomaly.

But there's something else Sans is sure of, too:] Well, nobody could'a offered 'em mercy like you did, either. Actually believing they could change, even with what they did.

[Nobody else is like Papyrus, as far as Sans is concerned. Papyrus really is great.]

Nyeh heh heh, why do you think I did! [His heart isn't entirely in it, but Papyrus boasts and laughs with a ghost of a smile.] I still do believe that, you know. Even if it's... maybe harder, than I thought then.

[The compressed memories sit heavy in his awareness, even as he continues to skirt around activating more of them. The human hadn't just killed, he's sure of it. It had played, performed on TV, befriended them? Tried things out, like a person choosing to try out everything... Or like something deep underground trying to see what made people tick, so as to push them just the right way. And that's familiar too, echoes of familiarity. It feels like he's been trying to please and steer some powerful person for a very long time.]

That's what makes you so cool. [It's something Sans says a lot. He always means it, of course, but this time he breaks his expressionless mask for something actually sincere.] Really.

[He remembers how Papyrus was when he was younger--much more insecure. And he's gotten a lot better with his self-esteem. But, now that Sans has been forced into Papyrus's head and memories multiple times, Papyrus still has more of that insecurity left than Sans realized. Sans is always going to be on Papyrus's side. That's a core part of what makes him Sans. And Papyrus's ability to believe in people, to be merciful, is exactly what makes him so cool.]

[Between his somewhat numbed emotions, and how recent events have drained him, Papyrus doesn't anxiously rush to agree and reassure. Not when he recognizes the sincerity of Sans's words, sinking in even with the numbness, enough to be heartwarming. His smile deepens, and he glances away.]

...I won't argue with that! Not with words so profoundly correct. [Maybe a little over-emphatic, but he has years of compensating to not slip into Sans's habits. His brother can surely see through it enough to hear the gratitude. But his smile goes wry, as he again considers that worrying network post with all the pro-Ozpaka friendship threads.] That said... Maybe our downstairs not-friend is a little much, for me to win over. I'm in no hurry to try.

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stuffs some background headcanon in here it's fine

the magic of threads in journals instead of comms

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