"Don't think he is, he just seemed--upset," they start off, before realizing wait, he's not calling Papyrus--S4 bad, he's just answering their question. Right. God they're tired.
Frisk slumps over the chair of the arm, quietly reaches over to pat his hand unthinkingly. "...yeah." What else can they say?
After everything they've been through, only now are they feeling like they're completely in over their head. Or at least feeling especially uncertain about powering through it with determination like usual. If it had been someone new, a stranger, then they would've been okay, but that was the entire pivotal point. Papyrus wasn't supposed to be some--some--some lab animal all broken and scared. Papyrus was loud and happy and encouraging and could control himself and what can they do about it?
A wave of emotion hits them in the chest, enough to almost physically hurt. They miss their Papyrus, and Toriel, and Asgore, and Undyne, and--and everybody. They didn't have a home yet, not properly, but being with their friends felt like how a home was supposed to.
Their vision blurs. It takes a heroic effort not to just have a meltdown right then and there, and they realize they're clutching something--Sans' sleeve, probably--really tightly, and they can't do that right now. There's been enough distress lately.
"Least...he's not back there. That's best." That's something that feels like firm fact. Even without monster food here, it was obvious whoever was supposed to take care of him wasn't giving him any there, or enough.
i keep actually replying to this while half asleep. hopefully it adds to The Authenticity or smth
Frisk slumps over the chair of the arm, quietly reaches over to pat his hand unthinkingly. "...yeah." What else can they say?
After everything they've been through, only now are they feeling like they're completely in over their head. Or at least feeling especially uncertain about powering through it with determination like usual. If it had been someone new, a stranger, then they would've been okay, but that was the entire pivotal point. Papyrus wasn't supposed to be some--some--some lab animal all broken and scared. Papyrus was loud and happy and encouraging and could control himself and what can they do about it?
A wave of emotion hits them in the chest, enough to almost physically hurt. They miss their Papyrus, and Toriel, and Asgore, and Undyne, and--and everybody. They didn't have a home yet, not properly, but being with their friends felt like how a home was supposed to.
Their vision blurs. It takes a heroic effort not to just have a meltdown right then and there, and they realize they're clutching something--Sans' sleeve, probably--really tightly, and they can't do that right now. There's been enough distress lately.
Stopitstopitstopitstopit-- Frisk breathes. One, two, three, four, five, six--Stop. It's okay. It'll be okay.
"Least...he's not back there. That's best." That's something that feels like firm fact. Even without monster food here, it was obvious whoever was supposed to take care of him wasn't giving him any there, or enough.