With the soul safely tucked away behind bandaged up broken ribs, he reached out and pulled Sans to his chest, muttering apologies after apologies,, promises of protection, and various iterations of 'I love you's spilled forth from the deeply stricken younger brother. Sans had joined right in, clinging to Papyrus's orange shirt and burying his face into his brother's chest. He wasn't making any sounds, but the shaking and slight bobbing of his shoulders suggested that he too was crying.

“It’s Okay Brother, You’re Safe Now. Everybody’s Safe.” Papyrus cooed, allowing for Sans to sob into his shirt. Sans didn’t have the strength or will necessary to stop the tears, or even pull away. Instead, he simply buried his face further into his brother's chest and sobbed all the harder.

Papyrus felt his soul drop, some part of him feeling quite guilty that there was nothing to be done about Sans SOUL. It was still too fragile to touch directly, and Paps knew a cracked soul was permanent and deadly. They only hoped that when they healed Sans’s physical injuries it’d do something positive for him inside as well. And knew he’d be watched to make sure he wouldn’t Fall Down. It was important to keep Sans as calm as possible and allow him to rest.

Sans continued clinging to his brother, some part of him knew he’d done the right thing, sacrificing himself to protect Frisk. Even if it was such a traumatic experience to see the result of what he’d done visible on his SOUL. He was sure he’d be questioned about all the other hairline cracks. He only hoped that when Frisk explained to everyone about The Forgotten she’d still kept her promise that he remembered the RESETs, and that he only knew of them due to dejavu memories everyone else had experienced. For now, however, as it seemed no one would question him this day and allow him a bit of rest, he just chose to simply cry into the safety of his brother's arms. Grateful he hadn’t hurt him or any of them that badly.

Gerson nodded sadly to himself, carefully bracing his hands against his knees and rising to his feet. He didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt the brothers' moment. He made his way out of the tent without a word to them, only stopping to face the small group of anxious friends outside. Toriel was among them, a bowl of what appeared to be broth held firmly in her hands.

"You can go in now, but..." Gerson paused. He glanced back at the tent entrance at the two brothers still inside. "Give them a moment."

Toriel nodded.

"If his condition changes, or any complications arise, please inform me. I may be able to help."

"Yes, Gerson. Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet," the old turtle murmured with a shake of his head. "That monster is still far from being alright. Traumatized, I’m sure from having that flower inside his own bones and controlling his movements and his magic, not to mention from his SOUL being damaged directly... It is going to take a fair amount of love, compassion, and hope to get him to even a fraction of where he was before. However..." He smiled, taking in the worried faces of Frisk, Asgore, Toriel, Alphys, and Undyne. "But I think the lad is in very good hands in that regard." He gave Undyne a playful glare. "Play nice, alright? I know how you can get."

Undyne gave him a weak grin.

With that, Gerson left, leaving those outside the tent standing in awkward silence.

Asgore, Toriel, Frisk, Alphys, and Undyne entered the tent with all the caution that they could muster. There was no gaiety in their steps, nor smiles on their faces; expressions were somber and worried.  Toriel led the way, the bowl of warm broth heavy in her hands. The sight that they were greeted with, as the tent flaps flopped closed behind them, was a sad one indeed.

Papyrus was still kneeling on the ground, right where he had been when they left, his arms wrapped around the smaller form of his brother. Sans was pulled firmly against his chest, Papyrus's hand gently soothing over his back. Both had been crying it seemed, visible by the tear tracks on Papyrus's face and the way that Sans was sniffling softly. Both looked quite spent and tired. Sans body was limp and Papyrus looking even more ready to collapse from exhaustion. Especially given the fact, ever since Papyrus had gone on ahead of everyone carrying his brother, to the second the two Boss Monsters began healing, until now, Papyrus hadn’t once given himself a chance to rest for even a second. Wracked with grief and worry while Sans was so close to dusting.

"...Papyrus?" Toriel spoke softly, edging closer. The thin skeleton looked up, blinking tiredly. "Is it...alright if we come a little closer?"

Frisk shifted slightly, both hands wrapped tightly around the small shoe carrying Flowey who, still somewhat looked a bit guilty for stressing Sans out earlier. A bit of Asriel starting to poke through the soulless flower.

Papyrus continued to stare at their friends, considering, before he glanced down at his brother and then giving them all a small nod. "Quietly," was all he said.

The group slowly made their way further inside, even Undyne was being mindful not to make so much as even a sound. Toriel moved forward first, crouching down at Papyrus's side. The skeleton gave her a small smile that was only a shadow of its usual positivity, Papyrus carefully easing Sans away from his front gently.

"Sans? Brother, Look...Our Friends Are Here To...To Make Sure You Are Alright."

Sans looked distant, unfocused, dark shadows beneath his sockets and eye lights just barely visible. It took a moment, and a bit of coaxing from Papyrus, before his gaze shakily focused onto Toriel's compassionate face.

"...h-hey, t..." he whispered, voice hoarse and shaky. Still sounding a bit gravelly, recovering from all that screaming he did before. Even hours later.

Toriel smiled, eyes moist with tears but held back. "Hello, my friend. It is good to see you awake finally." She looked down at the bowl in her hands, and then back to his weary face. "I made you something to eat. It is only broth, but...Gerson said I should try and get something into your system. I also made sure to imbue it with extra magic as well, so you can refill your own reserves from..." She trailed off, not wanting to risk Sans freaking out again.

Had Sans had skin, he might have turned green, either from the thought of healing, or that which Toriel had not mentioned but hinted towards. "n-not...really all th-that hungry..."

Undyne squatted down on Papyrus's other side, her hand shifting to rest ever so lightly on Sans's shoulder. He flinched at the touch but didn't move away. "Come on, punk. Just try it, even a little. You've lost...a lot of magic there, buddy. And your HP is still really low too, it’ll help."

"Please, Brother," Papyrus begged, rubbing a thumb along a mysterious bruise on the side of Sans's skull, an injury magic had only soothed, but not healed. "You Need To Regain Your Strength."

Sans had never been one to be able to ever resist his brother's wishes. Even though the very thought of eating had made him feel sick to his metaphorical stomach, Sans finally gave in with a weak nod. 

Papyrus propped him up gently into a sitting position. One arm sliding beneath his brothers back, grabbing his shoulders, and the other moving in front for leverage as Paps settled himself half onto the makeshift bed so that Sans could rest his upper body against his shoulder when it became apparent Sans couldn’t quite sit up on his own for long. Sans grimaced, an arm shooting out to grab his brother's arm, eye sockets fluttering shut closed when the vertigo hit, dizziness plaguing the tiny skeleton monster as his bones trembled slightly beneath the bandages and splints. “s-shit…!” Sans cursed. 

Papyrus frowned, a groan of sympathy having escaped his throat as he paused, allowing for Sans the time to recover and for the vertigo to ease a bit.

Toriel was about to say something about the cursing, but held back. Knowing Sans must still be in terrible pain since they were forced to stop healing him, and simply left Sans to recover essentially on his own. Not to mention since his SOUL was still cracked, the wound open and still tender and raw, no one wanted to risk touching it. Besides also the fact there literally WAS no medicine or likewise that could heal a cracked SOUL. All everyone could do was to keep Sans calm and pray he wouldn't Fall from the severe injury to the tiny thing.

Undyne's steadying hand helped shift him until he was somewhat comfortable. Ready to dive in, should Paps arms get tired from holding his brother’s weight as he sat, even though Skeleton Monsters weren’t all that heavy to begin with anyways. After all, Sans weighed about less than half that of Frisk, and Papyrus maybe 5 pounds more, being so tall and lanky. 

Sans tried to feed himself, but his hands were shaking so badly that he ended up spilling the first few spoonfuls before they even reached his teeth and the absorption magic could take it in. Toriel had instantly taken the initiative, taking the spoon away from him and then proceeding to help feed him. Green healing magic began to appear as Sans slowly drank at the soup, though most of which he wasn’t able to fully absorb as some of the particles began to float in the air before disappearing. His bones gained a little more of their usual luster, the gray replaced with a slightly marred white beneath the bandages.

Alphys ran a few scans, keeping her readings to herself. They were distressingly low, nothing like a healthy monster should look like. Though then again, Sans had never been a 'healthy' monster, what with only having that measly one HP… but now it was like one good wind would dust him the way he was now.

The whole ordeal was rather embarrassing for Sans. He knew he was just being a burden, not able to sit  up on his own, nor even being able to feed himself, but the others all seemed perfectly willing to do it for him. Toriel's gentle coaxing helped him keep down the broth, and Papyrus's soothing hands eased his trembling. Undyne looming over him was more comforting than he would have ever imagined it to be. She was like a guardian angel standing watch; proud, unwavering, protective. Alphys and Asgore were also nice to have nearby, kind and careful presences that eased some of the ache in his soul.

It was a while before Sans finally refused to eat another bite. Even then, he had not eaten very much, as not even half the bowl was gone. He curled back into Papyrus's embrace, breathing slow and a hand laid over his chest, guardedly over his damaged soul. The others had all taken seats on the floor around him, talking in whispers with each other as he let his sockets rest at half mast. He was only half conscious by that point, drifting in between sleep and wakefulness. Though even then, he was still aware of their muffled conversation.

"...H-He is st-still very weak."

"Poor little punk. Why, I swear when I find the asshole who hurt him, I'll-!!!"

"Undyne. Language."

"...Sorry."

"So what are we going to do?" Toriel's calm voice rose above the others, though only just barely. "Sans SOUL is still cracked. We inspected it earlier after helping the bones to reattach and...it’s deep. Not to mention, even though Flowey is no longer er, ‘possessed?’ That demon is still out there. It might try and take Frisk's determination again."

“We need to keep moving. Get as far away from Mt. Ebott as we possibly can, before it can attack again. And the Humans of Ebott City. We continue Sans' plans from earlier. Find somewhere safer. Somewhere, where hopefully Humans are less likely to remember the War and would be more accepting.” Asgore spoke this time, a whisper at best. 

“What About Sans? He’s Far Too Weak To Move Around On His Own, And We Have So Much Stuff…” Paps spoke, his tone still trying to sound as close to a whisper as he possibly could.

“I’ll help you carry them. That way, you can just focus on taking care of your brother, alright?” Undyne gave a gentle slap to Paps back, jerking him forward the slightest amount, though not hard enough to jostle Sans in any way, his skull resting over his brother's chest, shoulder on Paps’s lap.

“Are You Sure, Undyne? I Can Carry Some Of Our Stuff In A Backpack, I’m Just Unsure If It Might Still Be Too Early To Move With My Brother In His Condition.”

"Uhh DUH!" Undyne gave him a grin and playfully punched Papyrus shoulder. "Why the heck did I just ask for you freaking nerd!!! What, do you think we'd just leave Sans behind after all the crap we went through to save that bonehead?! Of COURSE I MEAN IT!!"

"Undyne!! Voices down!" Toriel shushed, giving her a stern look and Undyne apologized quickly.

“We’ll just have to make do. I’ll talk to Gerson, see what he thinks.” Asgore said. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Sans cringed slightly against Papyrus, knowing they were talking about him. He let out a tiny whimper at the thoughts of the Forgotten still out there, fresh memories returning once more at the thoughts of being held captive. Defenseless. Horrifying vines digging deep inside of his rib cage and torturing him. And soon, his bones were no longer wrapped by bandaging but instead he was seeing himself in the flower's grip again. His trembling returned full force, his small hands scrabbling against the front of Papyrus's shirt, his breathing escalating to heavy pants, soul pulsing with magic as his hand clenched over his chest clutching at his bandages.

"Sans? Sans! Brother, What’s Wrong?!"

"f-fri...frisk! fri-isk!" Sans shuddered, his face filled with urgent panic. Sans once more tried removing the bandages around his ribs.

Undyne stepped forward to help Papyrus gently restrain the other as Sans only became more and more distressed.  "Hey, easy! Whoa. Come on. Just-!" She barely dodged being kicked in the chest. She grabbed Sans's ankles, while Papyrus grabbed his brother's wrists. 

Sans instantly stilled, so suddenly that it was creepy. His sockets become completely dark, spine rigid. There was a beat, then two, before a string of desperate whimpered words gritted out between the small skeleton's teeth. Frisk gasped, recognizing this reaction.

"n-no...n-no! p-please! n-not again, sto-stop! please d-don't-" Sans begged, seeing himself once more in the Judgement Hall, and vines wrapping around fragile bones and vines digging into his ribcage and stabbing into his soul and there was nothing for it but pain and misery and-

Asgore stepped forward, brow furrowed. He nudged Undyne's hands away from San's feet, and then Papyrus's hands from Sans's wrists. "I...am not sure, but I believe we have...triggered him somehow." Asgore bent, gently pulling the trembling, sobbing monster into his arms. Sans was dwarfed, like a child in the king's arms. "I have seen it. In monsters who have been through war."

Undyne looked guilty, also recognizing the signs. "Shit."