Work Text:
“S-Sans…” Papyrus had been standing in their living room when Sans had opened the door. He was shaking, staring at the shorter skeleton with wide eye sockets. Sans stared back.
He didn’t.
It appeared to be true. Papyrus was Cold. That damn Gaster really thought this was the way to appease Sans? By turning his younger brother, the most important thing in his life? There was no way Papyrus would ever be okay with this. He wanted to join the Royal Guard, for God’s sake: the one organization devoted to stopping the spread of vampires. Sans had still considered Gaster a friend, even after he’d made Sans into a killing machine. Now he’d crossed a line. Sans was going to kill that bastard like he should’ve a long time ago. That ought to please the Royal Guard. They’d been searching for him for ages.
Papyrus burst into tears, interrupting his thought process. Sans lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. “D-don’t worry, Paps, we’re… I’m gonna fix this. I won’t let you turn. I’ll lock you in your room for 80 days if I have to.” Papyrus continued sobbing, burying his face in Sans’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to hurt people, Sans!”
“I still haven’t.” But oh, he was going to. “Don’t worry, I’ll never let you turn into me.” Sans hugged him tighter, then took him upstairs and read him a bedtime story.
Screaming.
Oh God, oh no.
Sans sat up very quickly in bed. Vampires didn’t need to sleep, just rest, but old habits die hard. What was happening? Where was Paps?
He teleported downstairs. There was dust everywhere. Oh no, oh-
Sans found Papyrus sobbing in the kitchen. When he heard Sans, he turned around, showing off his elongated canines and now-red glowing magic. No.
Sans nearly broke down in tears too, but he had to be strong for his baby brother.
“What happened?”
“S-someone left dust around, a-and I c-c-couldn’t r-resist…”
“Oh God, Paps.”
“I-I couldn’t s-stop myself. I…” He started sobbing again.
A dull pang of sadness went through Sans’s ribcage. He couldn’t stand seeing Papyrus like this. The one person he loved. Plus, he had a damn good idea of who had just casually left dust lying around. Sans never did that; he only took blood from other vampires. Didn’t matter where they got it, as long as it wasn’t Sans doing the killing. For some reason, ketchup helped too, which was good because Sans would’ve missed it.
It was just like Gaster to do something like this. Sneak into his house and plant dust, knowing Papyrus wasn’t good at resisting temptation. Damn him! Of course he’d do it before Sans had the chance to lock him away. What an asshole.
Dawn was breaking in the Underground. Down here, there wasn’t really sun, though vampires knew it hurt them from human movies and books that fell down. Somehow, what light they did have still managed to be enough to kill them, though it wasn’t sunlight. The upside to it not being sunlight was that it wasn’t as potent and vampires were fine if they were covered completely in even light clothing. If their heads were exposed, it was just asking to be killed. Sans shied away from the windows as their world became lit up, but Papyrus… he was in a panic. He wasn’t thinking straight. Sans always tried to keep that in mind when the memories resurfaced.
Papyrus stuttered something about Undyne, then opened the door. Sans reached out, leaned toward him and screamed “PAPYRUS!” But his brother wasn’t listening. He lurched out into the snow.
Screaming again, but this time it was pained. Sans tried to pull him back in, but hissed and retreated when the light burned his hand. It was too late for Papyrus. He wasn’t making noise anymore. Sans stared at the dust in the snow, panting heavily. He’d gotten hurt. He’d need to feed soon. That didn’t matter now.
Sans pulled up his hood, put on his mittens, and went in the kitchen to get a jar. His expression was more blank than it had been in years. He returned and kneeled by his brother’s remains, gingerly pulling his red scarf out from the pile. Sans put it around his own neck and put the dust in the jar. He put the lid back on tightly and went inside, sitting on the couch and hugging it to his chest.
Sans felt numb. The only thing he felt, in the back of his mind, was hunger. Vampires always had to make up for injuries with blood. Or dust. Although he knew his body shouldn’t care whose dust it was, he felt physically repulsed to the thought of consuming his brother’s, and he’d be eternally grateful for that.
Slowly, his mind told him that his little brother, the light in his life, his reason for doing everything, was gone.
Sans felt his last shred of sanity snap.