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you...

you...

[Sans buries his face in his hands for a moment, give him a minute]

you're acting like me, papyrus!

[skelefont]

Sans...

[He winced at his own hesitation, brow furrowed, a hand carefully rested against his brother's shoulder. Was this really...?]

I'm sorry- I'm so, so sorry.

[For what.]

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for what?

why are you keeping something from me?

to the point that you're making yourself sick?!

[skelefont]

I'm afraid.

[Quietly, Sans was close enough to hear him perfectly fine. Gaze dropping, and... he looked ashamed of himself.

When had he gotten like this?]

I'm sorry that I am keeping something from you, I'm sorry that I- I'm disappointed in myself, but I promised, Sans. I promised.

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promised...?

[skelefont]

I promised to-

[That didn't make it right, no matter the thought behind it. Actually grimacing.]

To not tell you.

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...

[He doesn't like the sound of this.]

not tell me what?

[skelefont]

A few things.

[Sinking back against that chair, into himself in a way.]

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[Sans leans forward, resting his head in his hands, clearly frustrated.]

like what?

[skelefont]

[This was going to keep going, wasn't it--]

What were you told happened to me when you first got here? When I got tired out easily and recovering from something.

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that... that you were ill.

[skelefont]

... That was a lie.

[Face buried against a hand, leaning against the arm of that chair a little heavily.]

Dad made me promise to keep saying I'd been ill, but... but I wasn't.

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oh.

[There's bitter laughter. Sans can put 2 and 2 together pretty easily.]

[skelefont]

It takes three days.

[He'd been dead, but he was here.]

The world didn't reset.

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you didn't need to keep that from me.

i'm used to it.

[Not really, but he is numb to it.]

[skelefont]

[Sans would find himself pulled into a rather tight hug-]

That doesn't make it okay, if anything it makes it worse. I'm sorry, Sans.

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h-hey, it's okay, papyrus--

[Yet, something... something doesn't add up in his head.]

wait, didn't you die and come back before i showed up here?

[If it was just a general promise, then why... why does it feel like it's being projected towards him]

[skelefont]

It isn't okay.

[He isn't letting go, even if it's not a terribly tight hug after a moment, nodding slowly at the question.]

Yes, I- I'd only come back that morning when you arrived.

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huh.

why do i get the feeling i'm not getting the full story here...?

[skelefont]

[There's the fact he knows who did it.

... And still hangs around them.]

... Full story?

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[True, but that's not quite what hes referring to.]

well, i mean...

something happened to make it worse, didn't it?

to make you not act like yourself for the last couple of days.

[skelefont]

[Quite the telling tightening of arms around Sans, there was a pretty obvious tremble.]

It did.

[Strained voice, a wavering there with those two words alone.]

I- Sans, I promised him I wouldn't tell you.

[His last words, more or less.]

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[Sans's fingers grip tightly onto Papyrus's shirt, a (possibly futile) effort to calm Papyrus's trembling.]

promised who?

[skelefont]

Dad.

[Group effort to keep this particular Sans from discovering something.

As much as it obviously pained Papyrus to do. The older Sans wishing he'd not seen what he had, or had to do what he had to do.

That single spoken word held pain, guilt, and disappointment in himself.]

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oh.

[Sans's grip loosens from Papyrus's shirt and he noticeably slumps in his brother's arms.

You don't need to tell him, Papyrus, he can figure it out.

He composes himself once more, though, he has one question.]

why? why would dad make you do that?