As Papyrus trails off, they stare at each other for a few seconds. It's a moment quiet enough for the distant sounds of cacophony to echo through the building, long enough for him to recognize that sad, weary expression. Even though the angel's expression is in a skull. Maybe especially since it is.

Looking at that face hurts, and he glances down and away.

"Yes, I can, but... I don't mean anything bad by it! It's a silly... thing. See, I've been having these weird dreams lately," Papyrus starts explaining, running a hand through his hair. It's still there. He's human.

"Vivid ones. A lot of details stay with me when I wake up... so much that, they seem real. As real as my own memories! And I was a skeleton in them. With a brother... who looked a lot like you. When you showed up at the door... I thought you remembered the same stuff. And came looking for me?"

It's ridiculous. He's ridiculous. His attempt at a smile flickers and dies almost immediately.

"I... didn't have much else to do, this last week, besides think about those dreams. Now they're sticking with me."