Sans stares ahead for a long moment, his eyesockets dark, heedless of Frisk's presence and their attention at first. Even when he does return to his senses enough to feel Frisk's gaze fixed on the top of his skull, when Sans tips his head back, he seems faintly surprised to see the human still there. Surprised, and a little wary, because details like a striped shirt and brown hair tend to filter in much more quickly than details like concern in the eyes.
(And even then, what does a promise really mean, to someone with power like Frisk's? Someone who can break a promise a hundred times and keep it the hundred and first?)
A skeleton is always smiling, of course, but from the look on Sans' face otherwise...he wouldn't be, if he had a choice. His voice, otherwise, is...very steady, and very quiet. He's had time, after all, to get inured to certain things, much as he never wanted to. It almost feels like a stranger is speaking in his voice. It otherwise feels so impossible, to be finally admitting this aloud.
If Frisk wants confirmation, fine. Sans did his best to spare them that.
"wasn't even the first time he died, y'know. it, uh...it wasn't even always so terrible? not as, um...not as deaths go." Perhaps one of the greatest struggles of Sans' life is to not get used to his brother's death. He's wanted it to hurt, always hurt, because the idea of feeling nothing to be without Papyrus is almost as horrible as the idea of being without Papyrus.
It was an effort he'd started to fail, at least until the child had decided to change up everything again, and show Sans just how much worse things could get.
"usually, it was like he didn't even know what was happening. wasn't the first time any of 'em died, honestly. the teenagers. the guard. shyren. mettaton. undyne." His voice breaks. Sans finds himself blinking away the warning prickle of tears. He can say the name of every monster who died, that run. He made himself remember. It was the least he owed them. But above all, the one that had always and would alwys hurt the most: "my brother."
The tears become more than a threat. He ducks his head to wipe at his eyesockets. There's a sound like a sniffle, and then a sound like a sob that gets swallowed back into a hiccup. "nah. wasn't the first time any of 'em died. the kid never passed through without killing at least somebody. just to see what happened, i guess. just to see if they could." And they always could, if they were sufficiently determined to try.
"but it was the first time they started killing everyone." Everyone they could reach. Everyone they could hunt down.
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(And even then, what does a promise really mean, to someone with power like Frisk's? Someone who can break a promise a hundred times and keep it the hundred and first?)
A skeleton is always smiling, of course, but from the look on Sans' face otherwise...he wouldn't be, if he had a choice. His voice, otherwise, is...very steady, and very quiet. He's had time, after all, to get inured to certain things, much as he never wanted to. It almost feels like a stranger is speaking in his voice. It otherwise feels so impossible, to be finally admitting this aloud.
If Frisk wants confirmation, fine. Sans did his best to spare them that.
"wasn't even the first time he died, y'know. it, uh...it wasn't even always so terrible? not as, um...not as deaths go." Perhaps one of the greatest struggles of Sans' life is to not get used to his brother's death. He's wanted it to hurt, always hurt, because the idea of feeling nothing to be without Papyrus is almost as horrible as the idea of being without Papyrus.
It was an effort he'd started to fail, at least until the child had decided to change up everything again, and show Sans just how much worse things could get.
"usually, it was like he didn't even know what was happening. wasn't the first time any of 'em died, honestly. the teenagers. the guard. shyren. mettaton. undyne." His voice breaks. Sans finds himself blinking away the warning prickle of tears. He can say the name of every monster who died, that run. He made himself remember. It was the least he owed them. But above all, the one that had always and would alwys hurt the most: "my brother."
The tears become more than a threat. He ducks his head to wipe at his eyesockets. There's a sound like a sniffle, and then a sound like a sob that gets swallowed back into a hiccup. "nah. wasn't the first time any of 'em died. the kid never passed through without killing at least somebody. just to see what happened, i guess. just to see if they could." And they always could, if they were sufficiently determined to try.
"but it was the first time they started killing everyone." Everyone they could reach. Everyone they could hunt down.
Humans are so strong...