Depression kills, no exceptions...(Papyrus Story) *VERY SLOW UPDATES*

Chapter 7: Conflict

Papyrus was on the edge of his seat now. His mind raced around and around in circles, nearly turning off completely. He was about to pass out, and he gladly would. His eye sockets had dark circles under them and he was ready to sleep. But now the question was speeding through his skull, waking him up more than a sugar high. If only he'd crash. Papyrus held his head as it began to ache. A ringing played in his "ears", which did NOT help his headache, which was slowly descending into a migraine. Sans stood in place, watching Papyrus nervously. 

"B-bro...? You okay?" Sans asked, rubbing the back of his skull uneasy. 

Papyrus didn't answer. He was lost in thought.  

What do I say? What do I say?! WHAT DO I SAY!?!?

Soon, the ringing became white noise. He paid no mind to it. But he also paid no mind to his brother. He heard nothing. Nothing but....voices? Voices. Plural! How?!

(...aw..don't worry about it...it's only me....just calm down....)

The voice was cocky in the way it spoke. You didn't have to see it to know that it was practically smirking inside his head. It was obvious that the voice felt triumphant. Messing with Papyrus. Entertaining it's own sweet, sadistic nature. Papyrus had enough. He stood up....

"Bro..?" Sans asked. No answer.

Papyrus simply stood there for mere moments to gather his bearings. His head was still ringing, and the sudden movement upward made him mildly sick. But once he was steadied he took a step forward, and tripped, falling to his knees. Despite the light-headedness he suffered, he was still sane enough to catch himself. 

"AH!" was Papyrus's only reaction. He wasn't prepared for the sudden decent.

"W-whoa bro!! Calm down!" Sans responded. "I don't think you're fit to walk around that much! You need to rest, even if you can't leave the couch! You could've fallen on your ribs, Pap!"

Papyrus was aware of this. He knew he could've fallen on his ribs, but his primary concern was getting up and moving around. He'd been planted on the couch for hours since the transplant. He'd watched some t.v., read a book, and even slept. Well, more like napped. He'd only slept a total of fifteen minutes, according to the clock. On the couch, activities were limited, and he simply wished to move. In desperation, Papyrus attempted once again to walk, only to be met with the same result.

"Papyrus, STOP!!!" Sans exclaimed angrily. Papyrus was stuck on his knees until Sans aided him in sitting back against the couch. His body was shaky and his eye sockets burned from the light. "Bro, please....Tell me what's going on. You're my little brother, my ONLY brother, and I love you...If you're hurt, sick, or worse...you need to tell me! I can help you, but only if you let me know what's wrong. Please...please tell me..." Sans's voiced reeked of concern and brotherly love. As much as he loved his brother, it almost disgusted Papyrus. He could barley look Sans in the eye sockets. He held his chest once again and shifted his eyes upward towards the ceiling. He was met with bright light and turned away, wincing. Sans stepped towards his brother to comfort him. It absolutely killed him to see Papyrus like this. His only concerns were his brother's health and safety, so to see him in this state hurt his heart. Sans wanted to help Papyrus, but he wouldn't tell him anything. What could be wrong with him....?

"Sans...I.." Papyrus began. He'd lost his mind somewhat and was no longer weary of the things he said. In his head, the words he spoke were no longer effective. They left no marks, no scars, and no pain. He was barely thinking when he said..."L-leave..."

".....What....?" Sans asked in disbelief. Did his brother really want him to...leave?

"Leave Sans...Just...please leave...Leave me alone...." Papyrus looked away as he spoke those words. He couldn't stand eye contact with anyone anymore. It irritated him, burned him, embarrassed him. He was done with it. Sans couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt something painful in his throat. A lump. That lump you feel when you're about to tear up or cry. It hurt to swallow. He grasped his heart, or at least where it should be, and turned away. It took seconds in time for Papyrus to realize what he had done. His eye sockets widened in realization.