False host (undertale fanfiction)

extra 1: from a nightmare to another

--an extra about the events leading to papyrus's cracked skull

After watching his brother commit atrocities with his own eyes, Papyrus couldn't bring himself to stay in the same house. The walls felt suffocating. The silence, unbearable.

"Toriel," he began hesitantly, his usual wide grin plastered on his face. But his skeletal fingers trembled as he gripped her hand, his bones rattling faintly. "Do you think... I could stay with you for a while?"

Toriel's heart ached at his nervous tone. Papyrus never showed fear—not outwardly, at least. He wore optimism like armor. But now, that armor was cracked. Gently, she rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her warm smile meeting his anxious gaze.

"Of course, Papyrus. My house is always open to you," she replied softly. "Stay as long as you need, until you figure everything out."

Papyrus's eyes brightened, his natural enthusiasm reigniting for the first time in days. "Oh, thank you, Toriel! I knew you'd understand!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug.

Toriel gasped as his embrace nearly squeezed the breath from her. "Papyrus... I'm suffocating..." she wheezed, tapping his bony back with a free hand.

"Oh!" He released her immediately, rubbing the back of his skull with an embarrassed laugh. "My apologies! I was simply... overexcited!"

Toriel chuckled lightly, brushing off the moment as she returned to comforting a small group of children. Kneeling before them, she met their tear-streaked faces with her warmest smile, gently brushing her fingers against their hair. "Everything will be alright," she assured them in her soft, motherly tone. "The danger will end soon—you'll see."

Papyrus stood back, watching in quiet admiration as Toriel gave hope to those who had none. For so long, his thoughts had been consumed by Sans and the horrors they had left behind in Snowdin. He'd forgotten that so many others had suffered, too. They weren't just afraid of his brother—they were afraid for their lives.

He felt a pang of guilt for standing idle, so he stepped forward and knelt beside Toriel. With exaggerated enthusiasm, he mimicked her gestures, patting the shoulder of a young monster who sniffled quietly.

"That's the spirit, little one! The Great Papyrus will ensure there's nothing to fear!" he declared, his voice booming with exaggerated confidence.

But then he froze.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sans.

His brother leaned casually against the wall, his hoodie casting shadows over his face. But even through the gloom, Papyrus saw his teeth—drawn up into a lazy grin, his sockets heavy-lidded. It might have looked harmless to someone else, but Papyrus could see something sinister there. Sans chuckled softly, muttering to himself as if sharing an inside joke with a ghost only he could see.

Papyrus's stomach sank. He gripped the shoulder of the boy in front of him, harder than he realized.

"Papyrus..." the boy whimpered, wincing under the pressure of his hand.

"Ah!" Papyrus pulled back instantly, his hands trembling. "I'm so sorry, little one. I didn't mean—"

The boy smiled up at him, reaching out to gently pat the edge of his skull. "It's okay," he said, his voice calm despite his tears. "It must hurt a lot, huh?"

Papyrus stared at the child, words failing him. The boy's hand rested lightly on his head, as if comforting a friend. "There, there," he hummed, his innocence cutting through the storm brewing in Papyrus's heart. "It'll all be fun again someday."

They exchanged a fist bump, and Papyrus managed a weak smile as he stood. He waved the boy goodbye, walking toward Toriel, who was finishing with another child.