(A few days later)

Papyrus put his face in his hands. Dear god. He hadn't been lying.

He looked back to the piece of paper on his desk. The day he had ordered Sans into his study to satisfy him, he had taken a sample of his ejaculate after Sans had passed out from exhaustion. It wasn't that hard. They had made quite a mess that day.

Papyrus had sent the sample to a medical center, paying them off to promise that any of the data found would be deleted and kept secret.

The paper in front of him held the results to the DNA testing he had requested. It contained Sans's stats, including his magic levels, HP, gender, and other important medical information. But the thing he was most interested in was his DNA.

He was his brother. Papyrus didn't know whether to jump for joy that his brother was alive or curl up into a ball and die. He had practically raped his own brother! He had scarred the person he loved beyond healing. How would he ever forgive himself?

There were so many questions he had for Sans. Like what had happened to separate them? How did he end up as a concubine? Who was his, no their, father? Why couldn't Papyrus remember him?

Would Sans even want to talk to him anymore though? Papyrus's soul clenched at the thought. But why would he, after everything Papyrus had done to him? Sans's broken, detached face still floated in his mind. He had done that to Sans.

The thought that he might never fix that, that Sans would forever regard him negatively, made him feel incredibly guilty. He had to fix their relationship. It was his job. As a brother.

Papyrus walked over to his closet, throwing on a beige sweater and jeans. He added a black scarf to his outfit, to give it a chic look. Rolling up the sleeves to his elbows, he walked out of his house, preparing to visit the Queen.