UnderCorrupt

14 ~ megalomania

The days passed. A couple days turned into a week, and a week turned into two. That turned into a month, and still, things went on.

Gradually, Gaster became slightly less worried about Sans hurting Papyrus. More and more evidence supported that the white streak in his Soul was Pure. Gaster was still pretty cautious, as something like Sans' trick and attack were hard to forget, but the data eased things along.

Sans, for his part, completely hated Gaster and tried to be the best possible brother for Papyrus. In fact, it was only for Papyrus that he didn't try to kill Gaster, as he knew that would hurt Papyrus immensely. And he still cooperated for Gaster, if only to ensure that he got to keep seeing his brother. But, he still regularly remarked on how much he hated things, and quite regularly engaged Gaster in verbal battles, as well as the occasional verbal war.

And Papyrus was Papyrus. He loved his brother unconditionally, and did everything he could to get Gaster to lighten up on Sans a little. He helped Gaster with whatever he could, as long as it wasn't painful to Sans. He stayed hopeful that he could help Sans, or help Gaster find a cure.

And he continued to ask about getting Frisk to meet Sans.

If there was one thing Gaster and Sans agreed on, if for different reasons, it was that that could be a very, very bad thing.

~o0o~

"... Do you not like puns anymore?"

The question was so abrupt, both Sans and Gaster both stopped what they were doing and looked at Papyrus.

For his part, Papyrus was kind of glad that Sans hadn't really been making many puns since he became Corrupt. But Sans had said multiple times recently that if Papyrus was happy, he was happy, so Papyrus wondered if he had only stopped because he knew Papyrus didn't like puns. But, then, Papyrus wanted Sans to be happy, so he would willingly put up with puns if Sans really liked them, and then he had asked the question so suddenly he had kinda surprised himself.

Sans was sprawled across the cot in the cell. Papyrus was sitting on the floor next to the cot, and had been working on homework. Both doors to the cell airlock were open, so that, as Gaster said, "if Sans does something, I can get there faster" and were only closed when Gaster and Papyrus left the lab now. Gaster was sitting at his desk, working on something, or, he had been before Papyrus asked his question.

"um. can... can you say that again? i think i misheard you." Sans had his head sticking out over the edge of the cot, looking confused at Papyrus.

Papyrus dutifully repeated the question.

Sans' expression changed from confused to shocked, and from there, to an almost... pained look. "uh... i-... well... the corrupt army... puns are... kinda discouraged there... and, uh..." Whether it was intentional or subconscious, Papyrus didn't know, but Sans lifted his fingertips to brush the edge of his left eyesocket, his cracked sphere of a pupil flickering out of existence for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper. "and if ya do it anyway... they kinda... beat it outta you."

Shocked, Papyrus took a minute to absorb that. Then, noticing how Sans' expression was becoming increasingly more distressed, he leaped to his feet and hugged Sans tightly.

"It's alright, Sans." He murmured. "You're here, safe, not there. And... you don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

Sans wrapped his arms around Papyrus and hugged him back. "... thanks, pap."

And that was the end of that discussion.

Mostly because Sans didn't want to talk about it.

Also some because Papyrus's cellphone started to ring.