"Dr. Burke is coming." Eli says, using a crutch as support to sit up straight in his chair and inclining his head towards the door. The sound of footsteps in the hallway.

Papyrus listens closely for a moment. "No, that's Jackie." He says calmly.

It's his last group therapy... ever, and it feels absurd to say the least.

"How do you know?" Sophia asks, dark eyes shining with amusement and he shrugs.

"I can hear the difference."

True to word, whomever is walking down the hallway passes their door and disappears down the other side. Marcus chuckles.

After months of lying awake in the dark, restlessly listening to any sound the unit makes, Papyrus has become more than accustomed to these noises. Marcus wears heavy leather shoes, Doctor Miller wears neat, professional heels, Jackie wears muffled-sounding worn out flats... The list goes on.

Again, the heavy door at the end of the hallway opens. "Now it's Burke." Papyrus says.

Eli looks at him in confusion as the rhythmic ticking of heels against a linoleum floor grows louder and louder. The boy opens his mouth, one corner already pulled up in a sarcastic sneer, when the door to their small therapy room opens.

"Sorry I'm late." The doctor says curtly, straightening his back as he properly enters the room. "I just needed to get some last paperwork done."

Nobody responds, all eyes downcast to the stylish dress shoes Burke is wearing, and the solid heel attached to it. Papyrus can barely contain his laughter at the awed expressions on their faces, and the confused one the doctor has.

He's sure he's going to miss this place.

It's warm, sweltering in fact, and Marcus wears short sleeves like any sane person in this heat. Papyrus isn't sure when he stopped noticing the scars on his friend's arms, scratched into his skin.

But he notices them now.

"So tomorrow, you'll be home." Marcus says, casually, but it strains in his voice. Makes it sound thin and fragile.

Papyrus nods, he takes the pack of cigarettes off the table, with the picture, the root of all tragedy. Of all the drugs and pain.

"Back to your old life." Marcus looks at him, tries to smile.

"Not back." Papyrus defies. "Forward. On to something... different."

He doesn't know to what exactly. But not back, that's for sure.

The last group sessions had been slightly disconnected for Papyrus, unreal even. It is hard to imagine all the months he spend here are slowly winding down to a closure. To a departure from the save, into the world.

A world that has, so far, mostly hurt him and all those he cares about.

Doctor Burke asked him to wish something, something positive mind you, for all his fellow group members. Papyrus only had to think a few second before he knew.

For Sophia he wished the small cottage in the middle of nowhere she always wanted. Enough space for six cats and a garden full of fruits and veggies.

For Eli, all he wanted was some patience, some understanding. And a new car.

Emma would benefit, in his opinion, from some more self-confidence. The knowledge that she truly is an amazing person with amazing thoughts and amazing skills and Papyrus wishes she would just see that.

She smiled at that, shyly and he could see in her face that she didn't believe him.

His eyes moved on the the last person in their little circle, slumped down in his chair as if a physical weight was pulling him down. Eyes full of tiredness and suspicion and Papyrus didn't know what to say to Marcus. His first friend and the only one he isn't sure can ever be fixed.

The one who was here when Papyrus arrived, and now will be here when he is long gone.

There is so little Papyrus can do for him.

"For you, all I'd want is an eraser." He said then, and the others kind of laughed at that, awkwardly. But he went on undisturbed. "Something to wipe away your past so you can finally move on to the future."

Marcus didn't raise his head and Papyrus might have been mistaken but his eyes seemed kind of damp.

Now, fading sunlight caught on the green leaves, the flowers in their little humble garden in full bloom with the promise of summer, Marcus seems so much older than ever before.

So much more broken.

"It's too bad you're leaving." He says, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a vague smile. "It will be a lot more boring around here without you."

Somebody screams inside, the nurses are heard rushing to placate them. Papyrus laughs.

"I really doubt so." he says.

In fact, everything will be just right.

He goes to bed and he sleeps and he wakes up and suddenly it's there. The morning he'll be leaving.

Ever since a few days nurses and staff have been coming to him at all odd hours of the day to say goodbye. The weekend shift, the nights shift and now...

They sit around the breakfast table in eerie silence. "It will be weird when you're gone." Emma mutters and Papyrus feels soul grow tighter in his chest.

"I won't really be gone... just, upstairs." He shrugs, but he knows it's not the same. Being an outpatient will never be the same.

All these people, who he has shared everything with over the past few months, showed a side of himself to he never showed anyone, a side he might not have known existed if it wasn't for this place, will be gone.

He'll have to do it on his own. But for once, Papyrus truly believes he can.

And then he's standing in the hallway with packed bags (actually just one bag, Papyrus didn't bring much) and he is waiting for somebody to come. He does 't know who, he can't remember. His mind is blank. Not the sad blank, but the contented one. The blankness you get when you know for sure that everything will wind up fine.

Marcus and Eli both shook his hands, a gesture Papyrus still doesn't quite get but seemed to please them, and Emma pulled him close to her chest for a few seconds.

They're gone now, doing god knows what and it sinks in then that papyrus won't be a part of their lives anymore. He might see them, visit them, catch little snippets of their recovery when he comes in for the outpatient program. But he won't be here anymore.

The doors open and it's Undyne. Papyrus sighs in relief, knowing the confrontation with his brother can be postponed a bit longer.

Her smile is sharp, all teeth and she takes the bag from his hands without even asking, lifting it like it weighs nothing. One of her arms falls around his shoulders casually, like it belongs there and Papyrus didn't realize how much he missed her. How long it's been.

"Come on nerd, it's time to go home." She says lightly, and he knows it is.

Of course everybody is waiting for him, and he gets swept away in the excitement a little bit, he must admit.

He doesn't think about how hard it will be, getting used to everyday life and going back so often to talk about how horrible it sometimes is. Not now at least.

Toriel decided that pie just wouldn't cut it for this celebration, something bigger was in order, and she made spaghetti instead.

Papyrus doesn't tell anybody this is the first time he's tasted it, but he's pretty sure it's a lot better than anything he ever cooked up anyway. He loves it.

Frisk doesn't leave his side all evening, holding his hand through it all and they show him they kept the flowers he folded for them at the wedding. They tell him they're happy that he is back, and Papyrus is happy to be back too.

This is where he belongs.

The elation gradually dies down. Asgore politely takes his leave, promising to come visit Papyrus at his new abode soon, and Alphys falls asleep on the couch with her head in Undyne's lap.

Papyrus sits on the steps of the front porch waiting for his new roommate to come pick him up.

Only then does Sans sit down next to him.

They lean into each other instinctively, huddled together as if shielding each other from the Snowdin cold, but it's warm out tonight. They just do it because they want to.

Papyrus doesn't want to say anything because it would ruin the moment, but he knows how his brother loves verbal affirmation. Something tangible of his presence.

Just being can never be enough for Sans.

"Nothing has really changed has it?" He asks. Even after all this time, he still can't believe it has.

"I guess not." Sans agrees at first, then shakes his head. "We've changed though, haven't we?"

Papyrus can't answer that for sure. He wants to, but he can't. He's not as gullible as before. "Maybe."

They're silent for a while when Sans pushes his elbow into his brother's ribs, jabs him almost playfully. "Well, what did you get out of it?"

What did Papyrus get?

He has suffered and he has grieved and he has been broken, in pain, empty. He has been so vacant of everything that death seemed like the only solution, the only way to make it stop. He has embraced the fact that nothing he ever does will amount to anything.

And then he has challenged all those things to prove they're wrong.

But in the end, what did he get out of it?

"I'm alive." He says.

That's what he gets.

The news reaches him nearly a week later and for a second it all falls apart. All the careful bridges and support he build up crumbling to dust once again.

Marcus is dead. Suicide.

The print is fine, neatly typed in black and white and the letter is just a formality. Something send out to all family and friends and Doctor Burke had been considerate enough to forward it to Papyrus.

At the very bottom, almost as an afterthought, the next of kin had written a short note of thanks to all the professionals that tried to help Marcus over the years. And their regret, that despite their best effort, he had been beyond help.

It made Papyrus sick just reading that. It made him angry and downhearted and he knew nobody out here would understand.

He almost throws out both the letter and the envelope, when he feels it, tucked right in the edge of the paper folds. He knows what it is even before taking it out.

The photograph looks still more worn than before, Papyrus can only imagine what Marcus was doing with it in those final moments, but the image of June smiles as bright as ever.

A momentary snapshot of happiness long gone.

Papyrus knows now, that there are way more reasons to keep going than there ever will be to choose to stop.

He just wishes Marcus had known that too.

He takes the stairs two steps at a time, eager to get home already. Today was a school day and tomorrow is a therapy day, but right now Papyrus just wants to get back to painting.

He started something big yesterday, has been sketching out ideas all week, and now he's ready to make it come to fruition. When it's done, he will give it to the PUUH, to hang in their hallway.

Right side up this time.

He throws open the door without much regard, it bangs against the wall, just as is his intention. To make his housemate aware of his presence.

Doggo turns around on the sofa, canines bared in an unrestrained smile. "Back so early?"

"Schools out." Papyrus jokes, throwing off his jacket and hanging it neatly among the others. The apartment is small, but cozy. Room enough for the two of them.

Doggo didn't want to be alone and Papyrus couldn't be alone and somewhere along the way it just made sense.

He walks into his room and just takes a moment. The snowglobe is on his desk and the photo of June is on his wall and Papyrus just...

It hurts sometimes. It will never stop hurting completely. He has found peace with that now.

And that's the only thing that matters.

-The (Deep) End-

What can I say except: THANK YOU. Thank you to all the wonderful people who stuck with me and supported me through writing this story. Everybody who read, favorited/followed and especially those that left a comment.

This is (probably) the longest story I wrote to date, and as a notorious procrastinator, that deserves a pat on the back. I'm still unsure what my next big project will be, maybe something even bigger?

If u like my content, consider following me on tumblr (sharada-n). I also take commissions there, and seeing as I'm in a spot of financial trouble, anything will be appreciated.

Thank you and see ya guys around!