A Second Chance (Papyrus X Flowey/Asriel)

Crickets, or Conscience?

(Title refers to the cricket from Pinocchio, in case that wasn't clear. See you!)

After a few seconds of unnecessary breathing, Papyrus cautiously made his way down the familiar steps of his home. He could already smell his brother 'cooking,' most likely some kind of ketchup concoction that would make the contents of his stomach turn, if he had any that is. He hadn't eaten since yesterday, though, the smells of whatever was coming from the kitchen made him ok with waiting a little longer.

"heya bro, ya want any?" The shorter monster called from the stove, a pot of Asgore-knows-what bubbling. His brother could sense the mischievous smile in the words, knowing his brother only asked to get a reaction out of him, yet all the same, he replied.

"No thank you, I've got to get to Grillby's before the place gets filled with dogs!" He used his regular upbeat, uppercase tone, hoping the strain it took wasn't too audible.

"you sure? this one's my best mix yet, i call it ketchup soup."

The very idea of it almost made Papyrus gag, his only interruption being a familiar voice in the back of his mind.

-I wonder what Paps is keeping in these folders.. can't be all that ba-"NO."

"..ok? i was just askin, bro"
"NO NOT YOU! I WAS JUST,, PRACTICING SHOUTING, IN CASE.. HUMANS."
"..k."

Papyrus sighed, glaring at Asriel internally.

-He said the purple ones? They seem pretty hefty, what could be so bad that he's hiding it?-

"don't you dare-" Papyrus started to angrily mumble to himself, before seeing his brother out of the corner of his socket, a concerned look in his eyelights.

"you.. sure you're feeling good enough to go out there? i don't mean to 'talk' you out of it, or anything," he half chuckled to himself, stirring the ever thickening mixture on the stove. Papyrus could feel his stomach turn with every stir of the spoon, but his  mind still stuck to what was currently happening in his room.

-let's see page one, 'dear diary..', so it's a diary? He doesn't seem like the journaling type,-

Papyrus now started to panic, the buzzing worry in his bones growing as he spoke.

"You know sans.. you should probably STOP making that soup, you might FIND SOMETHING YOU DONT LIKE." he emphasized with a louder tone, unfortunately not quite loud enough to reach his room.

Darn soundproofing.

Instead, his now very concerned brother took the pot off the stove.

"heya.. you really doing ok bro? you can always talk to me if you're uh.. goin through something?" He said in his usually chill tone, though the fiddling of his mitts gave away his brotherly worry.

"..IM OK! JUST A SORE THROAT, I SHOULD BE GOING NOW SHOULDN'T I?" He stated each word as he stepped backward, eventually reaching the front door. He gave one last big Papyrus smile™, before finally leaving into the cold.

"..that was.. odd."

Once finally out, Papyrus sprinted for the back of the house, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it up at his window as soon as it was in view. He could pay the snowball tax, he couldnt pay to remove someone's memory. At least, he didn't think so.

"Papyrus?" Asriel whisper-yelled from the crack of window he opened, careful not to stick out too far.

"STOP," He panted, "LOOKING THROUGH MY OLD DIARY."
"I'm no-" "YES. YOU ARE. I COULD HEAR YOU."