Chapter 5

"It's all right Paps. See? Look at me bro…."

Sans gently held Papyrus' cheekbones. They were slick with the younger skeleton's tears. Sans gave his brother the biggest grin he could manage, which in reality wasn't that wide.

"B—but I could—could have hurt y—y—you!" Papyrus wailed, shaking beneath Sans' hands. Sans shook his head, dismissing the statement.

"Yeah, but you didn't," he murmured. "See? C'mon Paps, calm down…."

Sans wouldn't admit it, but Papyrus had actually taken off about a tenth of his HP, causing him to feel his Soul hammer unevenly. He had blue flecks clouding the corners of his vision. Somewhere behind Sans was Silvia — she was probably sitting on the desk. He couldn't look at her. He had to focus on his brother. "Papyrus, just breathe."

The lanky skeleton sniffled and tensed up, trying to control his hiccuping sputters.

"C'mon, deep breaths."

Papyrus rubbed at his eye and nose sockets and he inhaled jaggedly. Sans let himself relax for a moment as his brother calmed himself down. The weird sensation on Sans' Soul had disappeared when Papyrus broke down into violent sobbing about a couple of minutes beforehand.

Silvia's mind was as quiet as ever, now that she wasn't directly voicing her thoughts at him. It unnerved him when it seemed like she could just pluck any old thought drifting in his skull and hear it as if he'd spoken it out loud, but when he tried to do the same with her, it was like brushing against a wall made of icy thorns and silence. Apparently now that she's some phantom, it meant she was an expert at keeping uninvited listeners from her thoughts.

Which in this case the only one able to listen was Sans.

The trembling beneath his hands weakened and Sans saw Papyrus wipe his eyes again, letting out another sigh. It wasn't broken and flowed smoothly out of him. (Somehow.)

"All right," Papyrus whispered. "I'm better…." He smiled at Sans and Sans actually grinned. His brother was the best, most powerful monster in the Underground.

"Cool," he replied. He sat back, letting go of Papyrus' cheekbones. "It's all right now, Paps."

Sans patted Papyrus' head, suddenly exhausted. How long has it been since he last slept? It felt like a lifetime ago. He knew that he was probably just experiencing fatigue due to the nine-tenths of his HP remaining.

"Hey, are you gonna be okay?" asked Sans, focusing back on his brother. Papyrus nodded a little bit.

"I'm fine, brother, but it's you I'm worried about!" he spat, his sockets searching Sans' face.

"I'm great, bro," Sans replied immediately. He heard Silvia make a sound behind him, but he couldn't risk looking over his shoulder. Papyrus would ask and it would lead to nothing good at all.

I need to go, Sans thought gravely. I need to go somewhere to talk with Silvia. I need to know what the hell is happening.

"Listen, Pap," Sans said. "I've got to go. I promise, I'll be all right, but I just… need to figure some stuff out." Papyrus frowned, visibly hesitant.

Please don't object, please don't object….

"OK, Sans."

Sans withheld a sigh of relief. Keeping this secret was going to be a pain in the ass, but if it meant Papyrus would stay safe, then it was absolutely worth it. He nodded and hugged his brother. For some reason it was painful to let go, as if he'd never see him again. He felt a lurch of his Soul when he realized it felt like his last hug with Silvia before she was killed.

His jaw clenched at the memory.

He slid himself off Papyrus' bed and walked out of the room, feeling the familiar pull on his Soul when Silvia moved or shifted at her furthest extent. He shuffled into the hallway, looking down the stairs. He saw Silvia slip through the tiny opening he'd left for her. He was pretty sure that she couldn't pass through solid material, but he wasn't positive.

He rubbed his face and dragged his feet into his room. He forced the door open with his shoulder to get it large enough for him to go through. When he was inside he peeked behind the door to see a mountain of dirty and clean clothes. Sometimes when he was in one of his fits he'd smash his drawers or hamper into the wall, leaving his clothing everywhere. He never had the energy to pick them up or put them away nicely.

He sifted through the laundry, looking for his padded blue and gray hoodie. It wasn't in the pile.

"It's over there, under your blanket."

Sans turned his head, seeing Silvia standing in the corner. One of her arms were outstretched to his old mattress, pointing. She wouldn't meet his eye sockets. Her other arm was tucked behind her back. Sans could still see a faint outline of it through her translucent form. Now that he really looked at her, he could see the tears in her jacket where Asgore had stabbed her, and he could see darker splotches of blood that had stained the fabric.

My god… she still has blood on her face….

Stop that, he ordered himself, pulling his gaze off of her. The more you think about what happened, the more you're going to hurt.

"Thanks," he muttered, standing back upright and moving over to his bed. He lifted the blanket and grabbed his hidden jacket. He shrugged off his winter coat, tossed it in the ground and tugged on his sweatshirt. It hung off his shoulder blades and his off-white sweater, but since it was padded, it made him look as if he had a bulge for a stomach.

Sans kicked off his slippers and trudged around the room, searching for his sneakers. This time Silvia didn't assist him, but that didn't really matter. He'd been living by himself with Papyrus since her death three months ago. He wasn't going to start relying on her now when he wasn't even sure if she was really ever back to begin with. After a couple of moments he'd found his gray sneakers and he yanked them on, tying them in messy loops and knots.

After he felt as if he was properly dressed, Sans scooted the door open wider and held it there for Silvia to drift out.

But she didn't.

"Kid?" Sans asked, looking into the room. Her blue form wasn't in the corner anymore.

A cold grip constricted his ribcage and he felt a sudden dizzying fear of her vanishing all over again. His finger bones were holding the door so hard he could hear the faint crrrk as the wood gave under the pressure.

SILVIA?!

He couldn't hear. He couldn't think anymore. She was gone, gone all over again in just a blink of an eye socket. Silent disappearance and no goodbye. No parting words, no gentle embrace to comfort his last moments.

No no no no no no no, his mind screamed, don't do this—calm down—!

WHERE IS SHE?!

Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop!

SILVIA!

Breathe, dumbass! Don't—don't—

Sans collapsed to the floor, his hands grabbing his head as he banged it against the ground. His body was convulsing in restraint as he tried to keep himself under the reins. But his grip was slipping and his buried fury was pulling harder and harder.

MY FAULT MY FAULT.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

MY FAULT MY FAULT MY FAULT MY FAULT MY FAULT.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang.

WORTHLESS WORTHLESS WORTHLESS.

Sans couldn't stop the scream that tore out of his throat, and he couldn't hold back the burst of magic that exploded from his skull. He felt pressure on the side of his head, the fused crack straining against the force.

"Sans? Sans! Stop it!"

There was a feeling of warmth against his left side and back, a jerk of the floor beneath him, and suddenly he was on damp stone.

A soft trickling echoed somewhere, and tiny hands grabbed at his, prying them off his skull and pinning them to the ground. His breath was broken and he could barely hear his own thoughts. He scrunched his sockets closed and yelled again.

Short, thin arms wrapped around him, squeezing hard.

"Deep breaths…. It's OK. I'm here. I'm here…."

Sans shuddered. Hot tears shed themselves through his closed sockets. His fingers scraped against the floor painfully as he tried to grab for a hold.

"Silvia," he sobbed, the tension slowly leaving his bones. Now everything just hurt. It hurt so much.

"Shh…."

"Silvia," he croaked again, rubbing his forehead against the ground. A rough scraping noise sounded out. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," she whispered, her arms constricting him tighter.

Yes it is, his mind roared, it's all my fault. I did this to you. I brought you towards danger instead of safety. You're dead because of me. You're gone. And I can never bring you back.

"Sans."

He lifted his skull. The agonizing pounding made his mind foggy and his hypothetical stomach churn. He felt like he was either going to pass out or vomit or both. He tried to blink his vision into focus. Silvia's beautiful face was all he could see. He barely noticed the blood. He didn't look for the ugly wound her chest bore. Despite the long, diagonal gash that stretched from her left temple to just below her right eye, she was still the most perfect little human Sans had ever seen. She had been his little human.

His Soul ached the more he looked at her, but he couldn't tear his gaze away.

"Sans," she repeated softly. "I don't blame you for what happened. I don't care that it happened. All I care about, right here, right now, is my dad. And he looks all snotty and gross and he looks like he could really go for a hug and some food right now."

Sans felt tears well up in his sockets again and he laughed. He lurched up and hugged his girl, holding her translucent form as close as he could to his bones. He got to his feet, keeping her trapped in his arms and bumped his skull gently against her forehead.

If he was sure of one thing, it was that he loved Silvia with his entire Soul. Yeah, Papyrus would always be in his Soul, too, but the affection he kept strictly for her was overpowering.

He would hold on as long as possible, and he was never going to let her go.