"Papyrus, don't," he shudders out, pushing his brother away. He's filled with self blame, both real and manufactured by the mental punishment he's been through. He was wholly convinced at the time that his every effort had been worthless at the time, all self respect chiseled away by the things they were doing to his head. If Stella hadn't been there to heal him... he doesn't know if he'd even be able to stand upright anymore.

Some part of him still doesn't understand how he didn't just fall down ages ago.

"It was... I was there. I don't know what we were doing but I couldn't fix it." He clutches at his head, his bones rattling with tension as he tries to shield himself from the offer of comfort he doesn't think he deserves. "He was our dad, Papyrus."