This is the second to last chapter! *finger guns*

~~~~~.~~~~~

Sans held the cloth so tightly in his hands, he could feel his joints creaking. He knew his eyelights were gone, and he could feel the tears running from his eyes so quickly that even if he had the presence of mind to wipe them away, he wouldn't have been able to keep up.
His brother's dust filled the air, and Sans was trying not to fall into despair as he thought about how it had been his own stupidity, his own idiotically innocent belief that anyone could be good if they tried, that had caused this. He may as well have held the knife himself.
But he hadn't.
Sans felt his eyelights return and the tears stop as he stood slowly, too numb to register that more dust was falling out of the coat. He tied the offensively bright sweatshirt tightly around his waist and began making his way after the little horror that had killed his brother.
He no longer believed in them.

"You have to take your shirt off, you dork," Red said, pulling slightly at the hem of Blue's shirt.

Blue fanned at himself, grinning widely. "Well, how forward of you, sir!"

Red snorted and pushed at him, making Blue fall back onto the bed as he laughed at his own dumb joke. 'More of a Papyrus', indeed.

It had been almost two weeks since Blue had come back. His universe was still gone, but he had slowly gotten happier. He still couldn't sleep alone without having nightmares, but that was okay, because Red was always there to keep them away.

"Take your fucking shirt off, seriously," Red laughed.

Blue sat back up and stripped off his shirt, an old one of Red's that was black and said 'I find this humerus'. "That's a G for the swear jar!" he sang out as he tossed the shirt at Red's face.

Red dodged and snorted again. "Yeah, alright shorty. How about you make me?" he said as he knelt down to inspect the previously injured area. The breaks had healed over nicely, and despite the fact that the pieces of rib that had been cut away would never come back, his sternum and the upper parts of his ribcage that hadn't been affected still protected his soul enough for daily life.

"Is it healed enough to try it?" Blue asked quietly, and Red sobered slightly.

"It's gettin' there," he said. "We'd better give it another day, just in case."

"Are you sure? It looks like it's--"

He was cut off by the door swinging open without warning, Fell outlined in the doorway.

"Blue, when you are finished, I require you in the kitchen. I cannot find the soo-meen."

They both stared at him until Blue finally said, "The what?"

Fell huffed in exasperation. "I am trying to make tacos like we did last night, and the recipe calls for soo-meen."

Red, suddenly realizing what his brother was talking about, started to laugh, standing as he did so and handing Blue back his shirt.

Blue glanced at him, confused, then turned back to Fell. "I've never heard of that. Are you trying a new recipe? How is it spelled?"

"C-U-M-I-N."

Blue looked like he had just won the lottery with the grin that spread across his face. "It's pronounced cue-min, Fell," he said, happily exasperated. "Here, I'll help you find it."

Red shook his head, still laughing as Blue followed Fell out and down the stairs, pulling his shirt back on as he went.

Standing quietly in the huge golden room, Sans awaited the arrival of the human. He was going to fix his mistake. He didn't care what happened to him, he didn't care what it took, he was going to stop the human from destroying what little hope they had left.

He only had to hope he was good enough.

The stained glass windows only let in a small amount of light, and he would have expected this hall to be dim. However, everything seemed to glimmer brightly. It almost felt like a dream, but every time Sans let himself start to believe that he could just wake up and all of this would be gone, he would catch sight of the sweatshirt tightly tied around his waist.

Papy dying in front of him hadn't been a dream. He had felt the dust in the air, choked on it even. There was no way it hadn't happened.

Sans took a deep breath and stood his ground as he heard footsteps echoing at the end of the Hall.

After dinner, the three of them had settled down to watch some TV. Blue was in the middle, with Red to his left, and he looked on the verge of falling asleep, at one point even accidentally cuddling up to the wrong brother. Fell had found this very amusing, but Blue had blushed so hard he looked like an actual blueberry, despite their assurances that it was something he did often. Finally, after about the five hundredth time Blue yawned, Red pushed him off the couch good naturedly and told him to go to bed. Blue, smiling, stood up and went to the stairs, pausing at the bottom to look back at Red.

"I'm comin'," he assured him, starting to stand when Fell grabbed his arm and tugged him back down.

"I need to talk to you," he murmured, and Red turned and gestured for Blue to go up without him.

"What's up?" he asked, turning back to his brother.

Fell looked at him carefully for a moment, then said, "I know what you are planning to do."

Red jumped slightly, then opened his mouth to protest, but Fell held up a hand to stop him. "I am not going to tell you what to do," he said. "But you need to think very carefully about this. These last two weeks have been something close to normal, and I don't think that it's necessary to risk his life to get something you already have a hope of obtaining."

Red spluttered like a fish, unable to find the words to respond to something as upfront as that. Finally, he gathered himself enough to say, "He said he would rather risk dying than keep living without anything to 'survive' for, Boss. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?"

Fell glared down at him, the show of anger being the first Red had seen from him for almost the entirety of the last two weeks. "You tell him that he can survive for all of this!" he said, gesturing around the room. "For his family here! For you!" At that, he jabbed a finger at Red's chest.

Red just stared up at him. "He...he said that he knew I...I didn't..." he trailed off, looking down and thinking carefully about what Blue had said. At the time, the words had made sense. Red didn't want anyone but his Blue. But now...

This was his Blue, wasn't it?

"Just think about it, Sans," said his brother, standing and turning off the TV before going up to his room. Red sat and thought quietly for a few moments, then stood and walked up the stairs, making his way to the room he and Blue shared. Creaking the door open, he saw that Blue was awake, but just barely.

He let himself into the room, and Blue's eyelights glowed slightly brighter, lighting up his arms as they reached up for him. Smiling, he walked to him and crawled under the covers, allowing Blue to curl into him as he always did.

"What did he need?" Blue asked sleepily, already letting his eyes fall closed.

"Just wanted to talk to me about some stuff," Red murmured, kissing the top of his head lightly. "Nothing to worry about."

He felt Blue nod against him, then his breathing slowed, and Red silently held him as he fell asleep.

This was his Blue.

He turned to face him, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him closer. He let his eyes drift shut as he let himself breathe in the scent of cilantro and tobacco smoke. He could feel his soul sending out tendrils of magic towards the other, trying to connect, trying to find anything to latch on to.

This was his Blue.

He tightened his hold on the other as tears began to slip down his cheeks. His soul sent out more magic, and he encouraged it, desperate for anything, anything at all to latch onto.

This was his Blue.

He fell asleep to the sound of Blue's breathing and the feeling of his magic wrapping its way around the person he loved most in the world.

He was so tired. He had never been so tired before. They had been fighting for hours, every blow and dodge and hit draining his energy. He wouldn't last much longer, and he knew it.

He was just so tired.

He almost didn't feel it when the human slashed him across the ribs, breaking through bone and only just missing hitting his soul. But then he did. And he screamed.

The human looked down at him, frowning. When had he fallen to the ground.

"You know," it said emotionlessly, "I thought you would be way more fun like this."

Then it stepped over him, and he watched through tear-filled eyes as they walked away, never once looking back.

He was so tired. It hurt so much.

His eyelights flickered out, his vision going completely black. All he felt was pain, burning through him like fire. All of his bones felt like they were splitting apart. He laid there for what felt like years, but was, in reality, probably a few hours.

Then he felt a pressure, like everything in him was being squeezed at once. Was this what dusting felt like?

He was...he was so...

Cold?