Sans is circling the neighborhood again. It's a ritual now, every day since Papyrus vanished. Start at Papyrus's house (still strange to think about, when they've spent so long living in the same one), then the places Papyrus might be. He's never there. Not the library, the grocery store, or the hardware store. Not driving around town. Not at the bars trying to find Sans, which he knows is a long shot but makes sure of every time before he circles back to Papyrus's house in the evening. It's a problem he can't get inside the house; he should have asked Papyrus to make a copy of the key. Every time, he gets a little closer to trying to break in.

But this time, this evening, Papyrus is outside. On the front step. Sitting there?

"Papyrus." Sans's relief is embarrassingly obvious on his face, though not as much as it was that first time he recognized his brother. He's still getting his human face under control, but he's been getting better at it. It's only after that initial spike of relief that Sans processes the details: that Papyrus is outside in his pajamas, more collapsed than sitting, and his muscles keep twitching. Sans's face twists in uneasy concern. "Bro?"