Healing *Discontinued For Now*

A Week Earlier

"Sans, I'm heading out !"

"OKAY PAPY, STAY SAFE ! OH, AND STOP SMOKING ! ITS BAd for... okay.."

After being cut off pre-maturely Sans went back to cleaning up breakfast , shaking his head in a joking manner

"What am I going to do with you brother..."

After that short interaction, Papyrus was gone in a blip of warm orange light... orange ? Yes orange, for this was not the Sans and Papyrus we originally knew from our time in 'Undertale', nor the Papyrus we grew to either hate or, in some... special cases, love from 'Underfell' either. No.
This tall orange obsessed skeleton was that of a simpler, peaceful timeline. That in which any monster, no matter what universe, was welcome amongst them. This is 'Underswap'.

As Papy teleported to his station his thick hoodie was whipped around him in the wind, it's soft hood wrapping itself around Paps face. His feet were sheltered from the snow by nothing more than simple orange and white canvas shoes, they were already wet to the touch. The thick, oddly comforting, sent of smoke surrounded him, like his own calming aura orbiting around him, soothing any nerves of anyone who took a deep intake of breath.

Removing his hood from his eyes, he began to move away from the door of his his cozy little cabin (his station), fingers lingering on the handle... something's different... Papy had actually decided to go on one of his often ignored duties, patrol. There's a first time for everything after all.

A strange sense of drive filled his soul, something was off, something was seriously wrong. The laziest, calmest monster in the underground was now jogging, a feeling of unease and uncertainty rested upon his shoulders.

A plethora of snow frosted trees flew by, snow flakes flicking his frozen face, he was tripping every now and again on the odd tree root or... LOG !

'Shit, well, down I go.'

Tumbling face first into the cold white blanket that covered Snowdin and it's forest, Pap hit his head on a lump of pure ice, vision blinking for a second. He groaned aloud as he got to his feet slowly, a stream of curse words escaping his mouth as he rubbed the sore part of his skull.

"Mother fucker! This is why you fucking walk- wait what?"

While in his own world, angrily swearing at the defenceless 'log', it shifted slightly, leaving a deep red imprint in the snow. A single arm reached out as if pleading for salvation.

That was no log, its a monster, a skeleton at that. It's black jacket was torn to pieces giving the impression of a small log with snow between it's crevices. The cuts, wounds and various bruises that littered his body were still 'bleeding'... Determination, this was a Sans , not from a 'swap' timeline and whatever he'd been through, it looks like he doesn't want to mess with it.

The poor monster was unconscious, shivering, and in a critical condition. Papyrus carefully scooped up he injured being and began to use his healing magic upon what was left of Sans, he was exhausted but still sprinted all the way through back though the forest and to Snowdin. There were stares from bystanders of course, no one had ever seen Papyrus run, but he needed to get home quick or the small monster on his arms surely wouldn't make it.

He didn't care who he was and where he came from, he just knew that he HAD to protect this monster with his entire being. He never believed in art or the emotion that sculptures can hold but after seeing so much fear and sadness in the lifeless figure in his arms, maybe... just maybe.... he was now a believer.