[ yikes. talk about denial. miles resists the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as he surveys the scene. odd, for a bunch of dust to seem as visceral to him as a body -- say, a child's body, broken and battered... context is everything, he supposes. his gaze snags on sans' neatly folded uniform and he almost winces. which is crueler -- breaking papyrus' self-delusion, or letting it go on? he draws in a breath and turns to papyrus, holding out one hand palm-up in an open gesture. his face is serious, but not hard. ]

Papyrus... I think we both know what we're looking at. [ papyrus probably doesn't expect him to know, but sans had been uncannily honest with him back there in his office, after chara's death. ] I think you know that Sans isn't just skiving off somewhere. He isn't missing, he's --

[ miles feels about as good about this as he would breaking the news to a child. his tone is gentle, as gentle as he can make it. ]

He's right here, where you left him last night. I'm sorry, Papyrus.