Bad Dream (Drue)

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Warnings: (Physical) abuse/violence, blood and Blue angst.

Since DS Blue's favourite animal is the bird, I decided to make him own a bird named Alora. This one shot takes place in a scenario where him and Dream moved in together and are already in an established relationship.

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It was around 11 pm when Blue went to sleep in his new room, leaving Dream alone in the living room to work. He managed to make the other promise to sleep around 3 am at least and decided that it was enough. Baby steps as they said.

After making sure his bird pet was sound asleep in its cage and calm, he entered his personal bathroom and brushed his teeth, eyes already falling down. He was way more sleepy than he had initially thought, oh well.

He clicked the lights off and slipped under the covers, resting his head upon the feathered and fluffy pillow. He laid there, staring at the ceiling for a few before his eyes closed on their own and his mind finally drifted off to dreamland.

When he reopened his eyes, he was lying on the floor, his limbs aching. Something was caught in his throat it seems, judging by how hard breathing was at that very moment. His every movement felt like he was pressing his finger on an open wound ,and tired of not knowing what was happening, he lowered his head and stared at the lower part of his body.

Blood.

His breath hitched for a moment, his brain processing the information.

Blood, the crimson thick liquid he hated so much. It surrounded him like vultures waiting to feast on their prey, going as far as imagining them licking their lips in anticipation. The blood dripped down his chest, his legs, everywhere. It was everywhere.

He heard his heart thumping loudly and painfully in his rib cage, each beat knocking even more air out of his lungs. He should have turned his head away, he wanted to turn away but his body was unresponsive so he was stuck staring at the disgusting liquid oozing out of open wounds.

That however didn't help hide the numerous number of bruises, scratches and other injuries that were covering his body like ink splatters on a canvas.

Gathering enough air for his lungs was starting to become unusually hard. His breath quickened, the tempo following the beat of his heart. His vision was starting to get blurry with tears and his chest stiffened awkwardly, head swirling with nausea.

He had noticed where he was.

He was back in his old universe and back in his old house.

These injuries, that feeling of dread crawling up his throat, that environment... He recognised it all. He was back to that day.

"Sans." Blue flinched, most of his joints protesting vividly at the sudden movement. Oh god. Oh no, oh no no. That voice could only belong to one person and Blue was capable of putting a name on it, despite not having heard it in so long. Was it really a surprise? After all, you just don't forget the voice of the person who abused you for 18 years that easily.

Footsteps echoed behind him, an exhale following the movement. A cloud of mist soon covered the ceiling, smelling like death and the burnt end of a cigarette. Apparently, that smell wouldn't leave him alone, not even in his dreams.

Blue desperately clawed at the ground and tried to lift himself up to run away. Would he be able to get away in his condition? Probably not, but the man was just that desperate to put distance between Papyrus and himself. The fact he was here in that very room with him was already bad enough.

He backed away desperately, his entire body aching and numb like he had just been shot everywhere, but his efforts were in vain. The taller man in an orange hoodie still caught up to him in a matter of seconds.

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