[Backdated towards the end of the month] Well there's no use crying over every mistake

[sansational]

Sans comes back to life on the floor of a dark, reeking cell deep in the bowels of the castle. The first thing he knows is that ribs ache fiercely. It takes him a few bleary minutes to remember why.

Once he does, Sans scrambles gracelessly back to his feet, summoning his blasters over each shoulder as he stares hurriedly around. Empty. No prisoners, no captor. No Adam, no Frisk. The chains hang empty, in a couple of cases ripped out of the walls. Was Adam dealt with? Or did he pack up shop, and take Sans' friends with him?

He needs to go and check.

But he realizes that there's something he needs to grab first, to keep the second verse from just being the same as the first

So unless anyone is down there in the cell when he first reappears, the first anyone is likely to see of Sans is him in the graveyard, hunting around the tombstones and open graves with a very intent expression on his skull. His blasters float lazily behind him. He's not sending them away for a while.

"where is it, where is it..."

Eventually, he manages to find a real knife, if not necessarily the Real Knife, somewhere in the castle. Finally. It feels heavy and cold as he curls his fingerbones around the hilt. But it also feels powerful. Let Adam try sawing him in half with this between them.

It's only then that he wonders if this is what the human felt like, as they walked down the hall for another round with him. Before they knew whether or not Sans could die at all. 

Either way, Sans takes a slower route through the castle, up and down and all around, trying to zero in on Frisk's location. He hopes so, so much to find his sense of their presence untainted by that other human's. But at least this way, he's prepared in case he doesn't. Concerned friends or people who are just generally concerned to see a skeleton with two blasters at the ready and a knife in hand can find him anywhere, poking around, checking for trap doors, flinching at loud noises or sudden movements.

Comments

[voidster]

That sure is a sight to see walking down the hallway, as he rounds a corner only to stop dead. Words fail him as his mind grinds to a halt and slowly starts back up again. He... doesn't know what he was expecting. Hasn't seen anyone return to life, personally.

It was always going to be a shock.

[Sans. Sans, stop. Stop. It's fine.]

[sansational]

Sans doesn't notice Gaster right away, too intent on moving forward. Too determined. But if the other monster doesn't let him just walk away, the feel of the other skeleton's soul will eventually sink in. He's lived too long without it. He's incapable of ignoring it now.

So he slows, and then he stops, and then he looks back cautiously.

Then he sees the familiar figure, and relaxes at last. The knife clatters as he drops it to the floor, and Sans doesn't even bother with the intervening distance between them before he's suddenly in front of the other skeleton, hugging him.

"hey, gaster." He wonders if his brother knows what happened. He hopes not.

[voidster]

He doesn't, following after Sans, albeit... slower. A nice leisurely walk behind the skeleton on a mission up there. Then Sans is suddenly there, invading his personal space in a welcome way. Well. Seems like there are a lot of hugs flying around, lately.

He's soft, cool as the stone walls around them, and comfortable... if one wasn't expecting real bone, a normal skeletal hug. Naturally, his reflex is to hug back and not say a thing.

(Yes. He knows.)

[sansational]

Sans knows better than to expect a normal skeleton beneath the black mass that he still thinks of as Gaster's clothes rather than his, for lack of a better word, flesh. What matters is that Gaster is eminently comfortable to hug, and more importantly that Gaster is here at all. Adam shouldn't have been able to do anything to the other monster, of course. But Adam also shouldn't have been able to do anything to Sans, either.

He does finally step back, not without some reluctance, and looks up at Gaster to force a smile. "hey! uh, sorry i haven't been around much the past couple of days. you know me and my naps. hope you weren't too bonely without me, bro."

[voidster]

Uh huh. Now he's put on a faint look of disappointment, though he still pats Sans's shoulder before saying a thing.

[Don't lie. It's no use, you know. And wouldn't be very convincing, anyway.]

Although that may just be him, whether he's the dad or the brother or the friend. He knows. He scattered the dust on that lemon tree, didn't he?

[sansational]

Sans has the decency to look abashed at the fact that Gaster is obviously not buying this. His smile grows a little sheepish, as he shrugs helplessly.

"i mean. i think i'm pretty good at it." He's had a lot of practice. Lying just tends to become a lot less helpful when you're lying to someone used to seeing literally everything ever.

Still, he does press the point any further. Instead, much more seriously, Sans asks: "so, how long was i out for?" He knows that it probably should have only been three days. That seems to be the norm, here. But it feels like it's been half an eternity. He's died before, but the last time didn't really last that long. Not like this.

[voidster]

[Three days.] Longer days than usual, it felt like. He holds up a hand before Sans can saying anything else, needing to get this out: [He's been taken care of. He's confined to a tower. He won't be hurting anyone else again.]

So one hopes. It's not really up to him, as he suspects from what he's heard that he'd collapse into an immobile disgusting mass if Adam came anywhere near him. So useless.

[sansational]

Sans nods - three days. That's about what he expected. Of course, he's not the first monster to die here. But he breaks a lot of rules just by existing, and it's nice to know this isn't one of them.

He's opening his mouth to ask the obvious question when Gaster answers it. Sans closes his mouth hard enough to make his teeth click together. Then he finds himself grinding his teeth a bit as well.

"yeah. cool. because tower cells have worked out just great for us in the past." Even if Chara hasn't murdered anyone lately that he knows of, even Sans knows that Adam is much, much less sane.

The knife is very heavy in his grip. He tries to ignore it, and ask the second most important question instead.

"don't suppose you've seen frisk lately?" If Adam's been locked up, that means someone must have found them. Right?

Unless there wasn't a living kid left to find, and Frisk is waiting out their own three day timer again.

Sans feels sick to his soul at the thought.

[voidster]

[It buys them time to think of something else, if need be. He's being guarded.]

Damn. Sans is getting away from him, he failed to get ahead of Sans's thoughts, to calm him down--

[Yes. They're safe. They made it.]

The double didn't, but... perhaps that's for the best. Who needs a shadow following you around telling you to murder what may be a friend, right?

[sansational]

because guards on the tower cell worked out so well last time, Sans wants to say, but doesn't. It wouldn't be fair, it would sound too much like he's taking his own frustrations out on Gaster. And the other monster absolutely doesn't deserve that.

He rattles a bit, takes a deep breath in an attempt to clear some of these grim thoughts out of his skull, and just says: "good. glad to hear it."

He remembers the last time he faced down a murderer. He remembers the threat he made. i will sit and wait for you to come back so i can kill you all over again. He remembers wondering even then if such a thing was possible. He wonders as much again.

At least Frisk is okay. Sans visibly slumps with relief to hear that much. He absolutely doubts that they escaped unharmed, but surely Gaster wouldn't be lying to him about them escaping unmurdered.

"good," he said, and means it this time. "i, uh...kind of died in front of them? that was probably rude. you seen 'em around? i should probably apologize for that."

[voidster]

Maybe he does. Maybe if it were said, he would simply nod, make no comment, and never, ever forget. Maybe it's for the best Sans held his metaphorical tongue.

[I think they're outside.] he says, knowing exactly where they are. Thank goodness that special sense came back when they were far enough away from Adam. What a strange thing to be grateful for--he's grown to like it. It'd be nice if he could do the same with everyone else important. [By the gardens.]

[sansational]

Another wave of relief washes over Sans. His smile turns a little more genuine. "cool. outside. open spaces. i am suddenly a big supporter of those."

He wants to run off and see them for himself. But he also doesn't want to run out on Gaster quite so abruptly. His brother-father-boss-friend looks...even more like hell than usual, now that he steps back to take a proper look. Sans can only guess at the reasons, but guess he does.

"hey, uh..." He reaches up to scratch anxiously at the back of his skull. "sorry. for, y'know...all of that. didn't plan on it. didn't mean to go and do that to you."

He knows what it's like, to lose family when you're too far away to stop it.

[voidster]

Hell, indeed. He doesn't even have his satchel with him, that's a first. It's probably still on his bed and he doesn't care. Surely no one will raid his room. Who wants a chalkboard, incomprehensible notes and pictures of baby skeletons?

[We're both sorry. I shouldn't have sent you alone. Next time... allow me to go with you. I'm sure you could find a shortcut for both of us.] A momentary pause. [Please come and pick me up if you think--something might happen.]

At the very least he can serve as a distraction and cannonfodder?

[sansational]

Sans is quiet for a long moment, as he turns and starts off towards where he thinks he remembers the front doors are. As he waves for Gaster to follow.

"...will do," he finally says, and thinks he might even mean it. He adds, sounding apologetic: "i would've come and found you if i thought something was gonna happen that time. didn't think a human could do...what that one did." Or at least, he hadn't thought there could be two of them. "it's like he could just ignore all my usual tricks."

[voidster]

He's a little faster once he does away with legs, looking as if he's wearing some odd thick dress or robe that doesn't swish at all, too cylindrical. Ah, well, hopefully Sans will understand that it's merely to keep up a little easier.

[I was told he has the ability to... nullify magic near him, used against him.] He supposes determination could do that. What can't it do?

[dustless]

They're in the gardens.

They're not going to be easy to find.

Not that Frisk's hiding--not that they're entirely hiding. They're not letting themselves be impossible to find, but they're not saying anywhere for long, pacing inconsistent laps around most of it. From the air, it could look like a bit of an orbit around a pair of graves...but that's mostly coincidence. They don't need to wait by dirt-piles to feel like they're doing something.

It's good to stretch their legs out here.

[sansational]

Around and around and around Frisk goes. Where will they stop? Sans doesn't know.

Sans does a thorough check of the inside of the castle - and spends a while standing thoughtfully outside a certain tower cell - before he thinks to check outside. He doesn't want to go looking for the kid's hideout again. But he also really, really wants to see for himself that Frisk is okay. So, as he steps outside, he's hoping to meet them along the way.

It's anyone's guess who will see who first. Frisk might catch sight of the floating blasters to mark Sans' position. But even if Sans sees them first, he can guess that surprising them might not be the best move right now. So, albeit with a sigh of reluctance, he starts waling over.

[dustless]

Frisk sees him first, and they stop, and they...don't quite start crying, but their throat and heart and knees lock up.

Sans gets to them under the shadows of birch trees.

They hold their arms up, but stare at the knife instead of dragging him against their chest (or them against his), hating the suspicion that rakes claws up their spine. Someone with a friend's face just betrayed them, after all, and they can't toss away the SOUL-shaking question: is he theirs?

[sansational]

Sans smiles when he sees them stop, sees them hold out their arms. He wants nothing more than to be the one doing the dragging. But then his expression freezes, briefly wounded, when he sees them tense.

Fortunately, they're not the first one to have that reaction, so his confusion doesn't last. Sans looks down at the knife like he'd forgotten it was there - which, on some level, he had. Then the skeleton sighs in irritation at himself and tosses the knife away, where it lands point-down and stuck in the soil. Then he waves a hand so that the blasters spin out of existence. "sorry about that. just, uh...wanted to be a little more prepared in case i ran into that guy again. you know?" He's aware that it's not exactly a good reason. He's aware that they'll probably still disapprove. They generally seem to disapprove of him putting himself in danger, and that's probably not exactly going to change now.

He thinks about what else he can do to reassure them, and then realizes. Ah. Sans holds up his hands in front of his ribcage, palms up and empty, and closes his eyes. His soul takes shape there, pale blue and fragile. It doesn't do much to prove that he's their Sans, perhaps. But maybe it will at least lay their fears to rest that he's a bad version. No LOVE, no execution points. Just the one HP, back where it belongs.

[dustless]

It's not a good explanation, but also they don't care, their chest is already caving in with guilt at wondering, and then at still wondering enough to--

* Check

Sans.

HP - 1 AT - 1 DF - 1

A friend.

Good enough.

Frisk takes two steps forward and yanks him close. "Sorry." Their voice is tiny and cracking.

[sansational]

Sans cracks open an eyesocket when he hears footsteps, and is just in time to see Frisk reach out and pull him into a hug. Frisk might be able to see his soul flare a little bit brighter before he lets it fade properly back into his body.

The skeleton lets out a long, rattling sigh, and returns the hug without further hesitation, leaning a little on Frisk as well. He's pretty light, though, so hopefully they won't notice much. "me too," he replies, very quietly. "it's, uh...it's been a week, hasn't it?" One of their worst in a good, long while.

"didn't want you to see...what you saw. glad you didn't die again, though." Thank someone for small mercies.

suicide tw

[dustless]

A monster SOUL would be interesting to look at any other time. They never got a good, proper look at one condensed like a human's--Asgore was only a moment in a horrible series of them, and they were paying more attention to Asriel when the barrier was destroyed.

It's not so important now.

Sans can lean on Frisk all he likes. (Maybe they're sort of hiding under him as well, maybe it's making them feel impossibly safer, maybe that's not fair and maybe they're not ever going to admit any of it.)

A week. "Felt longer." Felt like a life.

...It should've been a life.

"Wish it--wish it wasn't you."

Unspoken, but likely obvious: Frisk wishes it was them anyway. They were planning on doing something, provoking Adam or starving themselves, anything to die and then go get help when they woke up if their imprisonment was going to last much longer.

They almost wish they could've done that on the first day. Get it over with. Fix the problem before Sans and Barnaby and their replica all got killed.

[sansational]

"...felt longer," he finally admits with them. It was a life. Another life.

The meaning behind what Frisk says next is unspoken, but entirely obvious. Not a good look for them, either, and one that he finds himself wondering just how much he had a hand in. He's been there, and thought that. They taught him better. Maybe he can do the same for them. Maybe it can work like that for once.

"yeah, well, i wish it wasn't you chained up down there." Trying to imply that they both suffered, and that neither of them is the one to blame for that. It's a surprisingly sensible view, for Sans, but it's always easier to share good advice rather than follow it. He heaves a sigh, and adds: "so it looks like we both got kinda boned in this mess."

He pulls away just enough to see if the pun has had any effect. And throws in a subject change for good measure.

"you know that we're forgetting something, right?"

[dustless]

Frisk wishes it wasn't them, but they don't wish it was him instead, or anyone. They were strong, they'll...be fine. Again. Eventually. They'll make themselves be fine, make themselves trust their friends and follow adults around instead of wanting to go hide at their size and shape in the corner of their eye.

Those aren't good thoughts, if it was somebody else. Later. It's not fun.

It's not a very good joke, either--they don't get it--but they try to smile anyway, even if it's tiny and crooked and doesn't last. "What?"

[sansational]

Sans pats them on the shoulder. "i'm pretty sure the initial plan for 'welcome back spaghetti' was if you died again. but, eh." He waves a hand, visibly dismissing the idea. "i'm hungry. you look hungry. let's go see what the kitchen's got laying around, why don't we?" He motions off back towards the castle.

[dustless]

"Oh!" They thought it was going to be something...bigger. Worse. Dangerous that they forgot.

Welcome Back Spaghetti is a nice thought, even though they're not really hungry. They don't think they've actually eaten yet today. "...okay. I can make soup, too." Sorry soup, for the...everything.

Frisk grabs Sans' hand. They're not going to let go easily.

"...d'you still want that?" they ask before they can set off, nodding at the knife. They don't know if he should have it, it's a knife and he has 1 HP, but maybe it shouldn't be left lying around.

[sansational]

Sans brightens a bit. "that'd be cool. i don't know why, but human kids really seem to have the hang of soup." It's completely an accident that cooking with other people has become an activity he enjoys, a way to interact and bond. Or maybe it's not so strange - everyone has to pass through the kitchens at some point, so he rarely has to spend too long looking for any one person. And it means he has someone he can at least attempt to fob the tedious or difficult parts of the job on.

...he hopes that Lucas is okay, wherever they've been sent back to.

Sans grabs Frisk's hand. He absolutely doesn't want to let go for a bit. He's about to set off, when Frisk points out one forgotten detail. Sans looks around to see where they're nodding at, looks past the knife at first...and then his expression goes set. Oh.

"nope." Which is not entirely true. He wants something that could protect him against humans like Adam, humans that are immune to the tricks that are his only way of really surviving with 1 HP. But now that he's found Frisk, the idea seems...less important, and correspondingly more of a bother. He's able to remember that he's been down this road before and it usually only ever ends in dead ends, headaches, and hurt feelings.

Still. It really shouldn't be left laying around. He doesn't trust the resident Charas that much.

"but i found it in the kitchen in the first place. so i guess that accidentally works out." He reaches out to pick it up, rather more carefully this time.

[dustless]

Cooking is good for bonding. Undyne and Papyrus knew it, or at least discovered it together, didn't they?

"Soup's nice." Soup isn't very complicated. That might be helpful, since they've been doing terribly at anything that wasn't more complicated than cleaning where metal rubbed cuts into their skin.

It's a knife. They're not very afraid of knives--their dagger's a comfort object--but they'd rather him have something...less sharp all over, if he really needed something. They don't know how damage to himself works.

Frisks nods and doesn't move until he's got it, and then they're heading into the castle. (Though they'll let Sans lead.)

cw self harm

[sansational]

Cooking is good for bonding, and bonding actually has a purpose in this place. People aren't just another way of passing time in endlessly repeating days.

And it's fortunately impossible for Sans to damage himself - he knows, he's tried, though mostly just for scientific purposes. Maybe that's not the case for most monsters. It's never seemed polite to ask. But enough hostile intention to take away his single HP has to come from without, rather than within.

Sans would normally take a shortcut to the kitchens, but he's not quite sure he's up to them yet. Besides, it seems like an especially nice day out for someone who's just been dead. So he trudges along, a pace ahead of Frisk. It feels odd to lead, but then Sans considers he might actually know this place better than they do. It'd be fun to find out for sure sometime.

They walk in silence for a few minutes, before he can't hold himself back from asking the obvious question any longer:

"so, uh...gaster says they locked him up. the human who did all this."

He says it partly to reassure them, and partly to check their reactions.

sans plz

[dustless]

Their face doesn't change much, but they can't help giving his hand a squeeze.

"He has my friend's face," they say, instead of anything that might make sense.

It might, though. They don't think he'll stay locked up forever, only that barely matters; he's a known factor now, so he can't fake being Barnaby so easily. The problem is that it'll be hard not to see Adam in his face, or that Adam can still try when he gets out.

And maybe they'll hate having to look through bars or peer through a keyhole to see someone who looks like their friend in another kind of jail.

[silvermists]

A skeleton person, one he's seen around before and one who once offered him cake. Two giant skulls. And a knife.

No one in the world would blame him for assuming someone has finally come for him, to punish him for his evil, and while he might agree he deserves that... he can't let the skeleton win. Nobody gets to see his dead body. He'll kill again to prevent that, won't he?

So immediately he rises into the air, floating a few feet above the floor, and ready for the presumed fight to begin.

"What's this?"

[sansational]

Sans remembers that party. He remembers the cake, and offering it to Kuja. He doesn't remember Kuja's name - he probably could, if he thought about it, but right now that's sadly down on his list of priorities. He's actually about to step right around Kuja to keep going, or else considering stopping and asking about Frisk, when the maybe-human...starts flying?

Sans stops, and stares. The blasters stare with him, their open jaws creating a shocked sort of expression on their otherwise blank faces.

"uh...no idea? why don't you tell me what this is."

[silvermists]

"You're the one parading down the hall with a knife and--those." he says, icily. It's a wonder the walls don't freeze over. And what the hell are the skulls, anyway? All he knows is that they reek of magic.

But.

They haven't charged him yet and neither has Sans. They've had enough time. He relaxes, just a hair, though he doesn't return to the ground. "I take it they're not for me after all?"

[sansational]

"no. should they be?" His tone remains a little more sharp than it usually is. In Sans' experience, people who are this jumpy about someone coming for them usually have some good reason for it.

...still, whatever that reason is, it probably doesn't concern him right at this second. Kuja is not who he wants to fight with. Sans waves both hands - one remaining wrapped around the knife - and the blasters spin out of existence. For now.

"just some pets of mine." A lie - his blasters are mindless, though he remembers that that isn't the case for all of his incarnation. "nothing for you to worry about - their bark's worse than their bite. but i just kinda came back from the dead again, y'know? seems like a guy's gotta work a little harder to protect himself, these days."

[sassifist]

During his search, Sans may stumble upon a Frisk, but not the Frisk he was looking for. This one's currently clad in his own hoodie (though it's rather baggy on them), along with a black bandanna currently lowered around their neck. They have black mittens, tan snow pants, black boots, and a pink shirt that reads "COOL KID" on it. The handwriting may be familiar- it's Papyrus' doing.

When they spot Sans, they freeze for a moment. The knife's, the blasters, something's off...

And so, naturally, Frisk does what they probably shouldn't do, and awkwardly approaches.

"Hey, Sans... You look kinda tense."

Not their Sans. The lack of scarf, vest, armor or even the costume Papyrus made him are dead giveaways, but still there's an air of concern in their voice. Maybe they should look for Papyrus...

[sansational]

Sans stops dead at the sound of their voice, looking over immediately. Frisk!

...not his Frisk. While disappointing to realize, it's still nice to have one that obviously isn't for a change with the way this place seems to operate. Still, it makes Sans wonder all over again just how long he was out, if there's a new kid wandering around. And makes him hope all over again that Adam really is under lock and key.

Sans' eyelights flicker for a moment as he *CHECKs them anyway. But it's a reflex, not done with any real belief that they could actually be a threat. It's tentative return of curiosity. Even before the lights fully come back on, he's lifting a hand to dismiss the blasters.

"hey, frisk. it's, uh...been a tense day." Where does he begin? Should he even begin?

"you okay? seen any shady characters around lately besides yours' truly?"

[sassifist]

The CHECK will yield relieving results. LV 1, 0 EXP. Nothing too daunting or out of the ordinary. Perhaps it's for the best that they'd reset their one kill. The one they never wanted in the first place.

Still, Sans does seem to be a bit... out of it. The hesitation's one of the first things to stick out. Nonetheless, they keep their cool, smiling weakly. "I can tell." After all, Sans and tension don't usually go hand in hand. "But, uh... not really? I mean, I haven't really been looking for trouble, so for all I know, there's some evil mastermind plotting in the next room over."

An attempt at levity to lighten the mood. Who knows how well it'll work?

[sansational]

"hehehe. yeah, who knows?" Sans shrugs expansively, perhaps a little too flippantly. There was an evil mastermind plotting two floors down, but hopefully he's been dealt with.

Then he remembers that he shouldn't be waving a knife around when a child is present. So he sticks it in his pocket, for lack of anywhere else to stick it. Precarious, but better than nothing.

"but hey, take it from me. not looking for trouble? great hobby. keep it up. i think it'll catch on." He offers Frisk a thumbs up. "so, uh, second question...you seen any other, uh, you's around lately? ones pretty specifically similar to you, i guess." Referring to their blessed lack of LV and EXP. "this one wears a scarf sometimes."

[sassifist]

Frisk snorts as the knife gets tucked away. Honestly, they aren't terribly traumatized by it, and now that Sans has seemingly lightened up, that's a huge load off their back right away. As for that other question, they're quiet for a moment. Contemplative.

"Well, there was that other me from a while back. Kinda quiet. I... haven't really seen 'em since, though. Kinda got pulled back to my own timeline with Papyrus for a little while. But if you want, I can keep an eye out?"

[einspine]

This is... very concerning. Sans never has his blasters out unless the circumstances are dire. Too much effort, he usually says. Gives the wrong impression. Intimidation is hardly his first line of defense, so why...?

Drawing a breath despite his lack of lungs, Papyrus marches onward, at first attempting to stealthily follow his brother... until he trips over his own two feet (too focused on his brother, not focused enough on his own movements). There's a surprise, "OOF!"

And Papyrus, grumbling, tries to quickly and casually get back to his feet. Keep it smooth .Keep it cool. He must always make a good impression! Even if it's with Sans.

"Greetings, Sans! You seem... busy. And while I'd normally be overjoyed, I'm not sure why you have such a sharp and potentially dangerous object!"

[sansational]

Sans doesn't hear Papyrus following behind him right away, too intent on his own goals and anxieties. But even he can't miss the rattling clatter that is a skeleton collapsing noisily to the floor. He doesn't properly register what the sound is, at first - just whirling around, knife half-raised, the blasters turning with him.

...and then full-body shock makes his hand let go of the knife. Sans almost scrambles to catch it, at first, but finally just lets it fall with its own noisy clatter to the tiled floor. He just stares at the other skeleton, feeling tears gathering in his eyesockets. Not as much emotion as he might have shown, once, but it's one thing on top of another and Papyrus will be able to hear him rattling faintly with the effort of keeping that emotion under control.

"hey, papyrus. it's, uh...k-kind of a long story." With his focus entirely shot, the blasters disappear, equally unregarded.

"hi. sorry. didn't mean to scare you."

[einspine]

He heaves a small sigh when the blasters disappear. Good. That's a start. But why were they there at all? This is still suspicious. Very suspicious, but for now, he might as well clear some of the tension.

"You don't need to apologize, brother! I'm just... surprised. It's so unlike you to have your guard up to such an extreme."

But after a moment, he puffs out his chest and beams. "But, fear not! I have all the time in the world to hear this story, however long it may be!"

[sansational]

Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't you dare cry. Why the hell is he about to cry anyway? This almost certainly isn't even his specific Papyrus.

...he's about to cry because it's been actual years>o? since he's seen his brother when he was this tall and this old and this loud and enthusiastic and alive and and...

Sans hiccups pathetically and then covers his mouth with his hand, looking away for a minute. When he looks back, he's managed to muster up an approximation of his usual smile.

"well, i'd like to. but tibia honest, it's been a pretty long morning. i'm already kinda beat. maybe if you can carry me the rest of the way outside, i might be able to muster up the energy to tell ya what's going on."

Or at least a carefully edited version of it.

[einspine]

"...You lazybones." He huffs, shaking his head and crossing his arms. Typical Sans, really. Can't even do his own legwork today? He could scold.

But Sans clearly looks like he's a bit out of it so, with a touch of reluctance, Papyrus crouches down low enough that Sans can reasonably climb onto his shoulders.

"Don't expect this to become a regular service! I can't always fuel your bad habits, you know."

belated as heck

[mettaton_rex]

It's been long enough that Sans should be back by now, Mettaton thinks. Hopes. And long enough that he'll have at least had a chance to recover. Maybe.

He really isn't sure of that at all, but he needs help. And he's just going to wait in the hallway here anyway, near Sans' lab, until Sans comes by this way. And maybe he'll be able to do something or maybe he won't, or maybe he'll tell Mettaton to go straight back to hell, and that's fine too. Their last meeting didn't exactly go well.

(The one after Mettaton died, that is. He doesn't remember being present when Sans died, and he can't tell yet whether that's because he wasn't there or just - wasn't present.)

He's found himself a new pair of gloves, so at least he doesn't have to look at his hands. Already, he's started to worry and pick at the cuffs of them. They fit almost perfectly.

[sansational]

It isn't long before Sans comes by the lab - it had taken a deliberate effort of will to direct his frantic, agitated pacing somewhere other than a search for Adam, but the thought of his murderer rooting around his lab had been enough to at least give him pause. Besides, it might have been the best place to find Gaster, or the babybones.

Sans is so intent about it that he walks right past Mettaton at first...before slowing to a stop, and looking back.

"...hey mettaton." Sans' eyelights flicker briefly as he *CHECKs which Mettaton he's saying 'hey' to. "don't suppose you've seen a human around here? a specific one, i mean. tall. blonde. male? evil."

He adds that last bit to distinguish Adam from Barnaby, a distinction that Sans had only become aware of in the last seconds before his death.

Things had happened too quickly to see Mettaton down there as well. He'd probably sensed the monster's soul, in the back of his mind, but...Frisk had been more important.

[mettaton_rex]

Sana might well realise where Mettaton's been just from the way he freezes up at that question, eyes wide with horror. Part of him - most of him - has just been waiting for this all to be a trap. For his worst fears to be confirmed.

"N-no. No!" It's a plea, not a denial - don't let him be out, don't let him find me. It doesn't occur to him that Sans is the one who's out of the loop here. "No, no, Kotetsu said he had him locked up -"

[sansational]

Well that's...a very telling sort of answer. Though not really in the way Sans had expected. He takes a step back, visibly startled, at Mettaton's reaction. But even if he can only guess at why the robot is reacting so badly, the fact of the matter is that he's upset this Mettaton again by asking what he thought might be an innocent question. Damn it.

"hey, hey..." Sans tries to make his voice soothing. It's hard to catch Mettaton's eye with the height difference between them. He tries to see about levitating himself up a bit, but...can't quite focus enough. So he reaches out to try and grab the robot's hand instead. "that's good. locked up is good. i only just got back, y'know? kind of not up to speed on anything."

[mettaton_rex]

...oh.

"Oh."

That makes sense, and calms his panic just the tiniest fraction. He lets Sans take his hand without putting up any resistance, only twitching a little as bony fingers touch it.

"He's locked in a tower. Are you going to...?" He looks at the knife, and then looks away from the knife and tries very hard not to think about what it could do to a human body. "I don't know where exactly he is."

In case Sans wanted directions, or anything.