Chapter Text
It was long past midnight in this corner of the Underground, and yet the inhabitant of this room was a long way from sleep. His pen moved quickly, then stopped while fast eyes scanned the text. Logic weighed the words, pros and cons flashing past at lightning speed. He hoped his exhaustion wasn't influencing his decision making. He didn't have the time for the luxury of sleep. Lives depended on this paperwork getting done.
Sans rubbed his sockets. A splotch of ink marred his slightly greyed skull. It wasn't the first. It wouldn't be the last.
His brother slept fitfully a few feet away. Papyrus had helped him for hours, but the King couldn't afford to look sleep deprived. At least he had only ever needed a few hours a night to be refreshed. It was easy enough to convince him to rest that long. Sans just hoped he never learned that Sans wasn't sleeping too. He'd definitely have a few words to say about that.
It's funny, but for all the times Sans had hated his brother for calling him lazy, Sans now had an hour where he didn't sleep so that the Underground wouldn't die. He missed the old days. He didn't have to do much of anything. Now he did just about everything. And his reward was more work.
Sometimes he wondered why he didn't ask his brother to get him some help. Unemployment was a problem, after all, and most of this stuff was pretty simple. He was fairly sure there were a hundred monsters who could do this job better than him. But if he did that, his brother might decide he didn't need him. And Sans didn't know if he could survive that.
So he'd be here, working through the night, until he couldn't continue. He hoped that day (or night) would never come.
“Your Majesty, might I have a word?”
Papyrus paused in his diligent efforts to show the blue bunny from Snowdin the proper way to stir spaghetti sauce. The busy kitchen he himself oversaw never seemed to have an end of new employees. It brought tears to his eye how much enthusiasm and dedication they brought to their work. But even the most excited needed a bit of instruction.
“OF COURSE! THE GREAT AND ROYAL PAPYRUS ALWAYS HAD TIME TO SPEAK TO HIS CITIZENRY! SPEAK AWAY.”
The monster in question, a well-dressed ocelot who looked somewhat uncomfortable standing on the saucy floor, coughed delicately.
“It is... Somewhat of a delicate subject, your Majesty.”
“AH,” Papyrus had learned that this was a roundabout way of asking him to leave the room and speak in private. Annoying, but true. “PERHAPS WE COULD SPEAK IN THE LIVING ROOM?”
The ocelot looked pained but still nodded, “Excellent.”
Papyrus led the monster through the busy kitchen and into the main house. Once inside, the cleaner, calmer surroundings seemed to put them at their ease. They settled into a chair with very little ceremony; their tail provided the only difficulty.
“Thank you for seeing me. I appreciate the gift of your time.”
Papyrus smiled. It wasn't a real smile, but the one he developed to deal with courtiers. He didn't like courtiers. Unfortunately, they seemed to like him. Sans said he couldn't order them away, so the fake smile was born.
“IT IS NOTHING. PLEASE, CONTINUE WITH YOUR SPEAKING. I WISH TO KNOW WHAT IT IS THAT BROUGHT YOU HERE TODAY.”
The ocelot coughed again. Perhaps he had a cold?
“Of course. First, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Variegate Klearsworthy. I have been elected to represent the oldest families of Monsterkind. After much deliberation,” Papyrus decided this meant arguing, “we have decided what the best form is for our support to take. There are secretaries and clerks trained by all our families who would be delighted to aid the crown in any way you see fit.”
“OH! HOW WONDERFUL! I AM SURE THEY WILL BE QUITE THE HELP.”
Sans would hate it, but Papyrus had seen the bags under his sockets. He'd also seen the ink splotches on his brother's cheek. Sans needed help, or else his brother would never get any sleep.
“Splendid. Shall tomorrow be a convenient time for them to begin?”
Papyrus nodded so vigorously his teeth rattled, “PERFECT.”