Sans lay spread across the floor of his room. It was way too late, the time ticked forward at a painfully slow pace in his mind. The exact numbers stuck in his skull, as he counted the seconds personally. One, two, three... His back groaned in exhaustion as he shifted, his joints throbbing in futile protest. Six, seven, eight... His head burst, mind-splitting in half as pain blossomed from a sensitive spot. Ten, eleven, twelve... Augh, damn... That hurt... Sans contemplated the point of keeping score, the point of sitting on the floor in self-inflicted agony. But the ever-increasing number burned into his mind was no longer a voluntary act.
The hours flew by, maybe two? Three? Hard to tell when he was only counting the seconds; eight thousand four hundred and thirty-six so far. Give or take. His hyperactive thoughts swirled like flies in a jar, one interchangeable variable keeping them grounded.
The sky had begun to taper off, the stars slowly fading from view, as lines of dull grey-blue, -looked like cyan- infiltrated the dark of the night. Bringing the sounds of early birds, and their excessive chirping. He was always awed by the utter silence, pure and unbridled, that could exist in such a noisy world. That could exist period. It was like nothing he could imagine, the creatures of the dark quieting, as cool noiseless ecstasy reigned, its time on planet earth short as it was rarely observed. There was a slight nagging in the back of his mind as the silence ebbed, reminding him of his responsibility. The night-time was a time without it after all, a time where everything was asleep, uniting the world in a chorus of soft snoring, and peaceful dreams. Spare few, the only witness to the great absence of consciousness.
He glanced out his window one last time, his eyes growing wistful, before pushing himself to his feet, teeth gritting as the fatigue hit him, hard. His legs wobbled underneath him unsteadily from the small amount of effort. Sans collapsed on his bed with a small strangled groan, he let it stretch on, milking it for all it was worth. It was cold, he was shivering. But it was also exceedingly hot. He pulled his covers over his head anyway, the cloth pressing against him softly, like a warm embrace. The kind he missed so fervently. The backward shivering continued to wrack his frame. All wrong...
Sans heard the door from across the hall open, then shut softly. Papyrus had slept in, he usually raised with the birds and the cyan light. Maybe he had a bad day yesterday... Sans frowned, deciding yes, he would get up today. But not yet, it couldn't have been that late yet. And besides, the feeling of being so detrimentally tired was soothing to him, while he lay against the mattress. It always was a relief, the knowledge that you could just fall asleep, while so near the edge of it... it was probably the best feeling in the world. His eyes drifted closed, a faint smile tickling the edge of his mouth...
There was a wracking feeling in his chest, as he fell awake, his eyes shooting open abruptly.
Oh... He fell asleep too fast again.
He twirled his foot around, completely enraptured with the movement, the ball of his foot clicked rhythmically, his ankle popping the ache out of his bones with a satisfying sort of finality. Though, the feeling did not last, as his stiff bones tended to refuse peace. Maybe, if he focused hard enough on not focusing, the movement would hypnotize him to sleep.
No such luck.
The chances of Papyrus waking him up right about now were slim, the sun was fully up, he could assume the morning was well populated with billions of awakened souls by now, the time was around nine. Sans tried to figure out if he wanted Papyrus to wake him, or leave him to figure out if he wanted Papyrus to wake him or leave him to figure out if he wanted Papyrus to wake him or leave him to-
It was hard comprehending anything now, it was all fuzzy and warm. The strange shivering was taking a step back, the warmth of his blankets enveloping him in a cocoon of comfort. The drumming of his head gave way until he was barely conscious, eyes bleary with exhausted tears. His room was doing a little jig around his bed, waving and shaking. Sans laughed at it. It was funny. He kept laughing. His giggles shortly turned into sobs, shaking his whole frame.
He pressed his face into his pillow to muffle the horrid sound, laying there for awhile, crying into a pillow brings out a side of him he rather bury in a pillow somewhere. He struggled to control his breathing, as hysteria enveloped him. Once in, once out, twice in, twice out... He coughed into his already damp pillow. Shakily, he shifted into a sitting position, stifling the howl of pain, as his body throbbed in protest. His bones felt like great weights he had to carry, as he crawled out onto the carpeted floor.
The immaculate floor greeted him invitingly, welcoming him to become the only piece of trash littering the floor. The self-sustaining tornado swirled mind-numbingly fast, his dirty socks waving proudly like old-glory on a flag post. He chuckled lightly, regarding the comfy floor, his eyes began to slip closed, thankfully not shooting open again. His ribcage rose and fell evenly, as he fell into what was an ironically easy sleep.
..........
Papyrus decided he wouldn't wake sans up today. He'd walked into something weird and out of character last night and it troubled him.
Papyrus worked as a busboy in a classy Italian restaurant in town. It wasn't much but it was a start, he hoped to be a chef there in the near future. His manager had noticed how hard he was working and rewarded him with a special recipe from the menu. He got home eager to try it out and ended up spending hours on it. It was four in the morning before he knew it! Luckily he didn't have work the next day.
On his way to his room, he heard a small groan coming from behind sans' door. Concerned he opened the door a crack and popped his head in. Sans was on the floor, his head against his bed frame. Staring up at the ceiling with big empty eye-sockets. Just. Sitting. There. A little rattled, Papyrus shut the door softly and retreated back to his own room. He wouldn't wake Sans up today.
..........
Sans woke up to black, black everywhere. He wandered around a bit. there was nothing here. Wherever "here" was. It was strangely familiar. Had he been here before? The blackness kept on going, and he had a flash of an old memory. But it was gone as soon as it came.
"Hey pansy!" He jumped when he heard a small voice from behind. Whipping around to locate the source. He was unpleasantly-not-surprised to see Frisk a few yards off, a smile lighting her face.
"Oh," Sans said simply.
"That's right! It's me!" she said her smile widening. Sans was unimpressed. "Why so quiet? Aren't you happy to see me again?" Frisk said with a hurt voice.
"Why're you h-here? Don't you have anything better to do?" He asked, any hostility in the word choice lost in his tired tone.
"What could be better than seeing you silly?" Frisk said brightly. She moved to sit beside him. He didn't object but also shifted into a sitting position against the not-floor of the abyss.
"You've been so compliant lately! You're no fun anymore!" Frisk whined. Sans was too used to her attitude to be surprised.
"I wanted to see you squirm again, I wanted to hear you scream! I wanted there to be tears streaming down your sad, sad face because I killed everyone you ever loved!" She exclaimed a slight sparkle in her eyes.
There was a silence and then she spoke up again "But after so many timelines you've stopped being emotional, you even stopped showing up to our battle..." She said a little hurt.
"Didn't you have fun while we fought?" She asked. "It was my favorite part of the entire adventure," she said sweetly, the genuine smile, coupled with her sad puppy dog look made Sans grimace.
He had forgotten Frisk was just a child. Because after all, children usually don't take up such extreme hobbies. She was twisted so badly in the wrong direction, she believed all of her choices were justified. Sans remained silent, his eyes wandering so he didn't have to look her in the eyes.
"Sans I can tell you need some time, and I'm willing to grant it to you," Frisk explained like it was what she wanted, but Sans could sense her distaste. "A little break if you will." Frisk clarified. "Then we can get back to our adventure." She smiled warmly then slowly got up and walked in the other direction.
Sans watched her leave him. Alone in the abyss, Thank god. Sans was not looking forward to the time off. She had ensured it was only temporary. It might actually break him when it was erased. That's what she was hoping for. Oh well. The surface. Sounds like a party.
He woke up. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was half past noon. The nap he had taken had been too long to tide him over, he would only feel more drained now. His head was still swimming when he heard a soft knock sound from the other side of the room. Even though it was a small sound, it still made his head pound in retaliation.
Since when was Papyrus capable of being quiet anyway? Or it could be the sound was being drowned out by the music playing in his head. His room persisted to groove around to it. It was a fast-paced dance, and sans almost wanted to join in; with the swaying of his bed and dresser. Nothing made sense in his skull anymore. He moved his hand in front of his face, watching as his bony fingers twirled in sync with the rest of the room, the striped carpet weaving and twisting like a majestic snake. Sans' eye lights dimmed, as another onslaught of fierce sting tore through his head viciously. Gradually worming through his muddled thoughts. He waited with baited breaths for it to end, having to wait for a great deal longer than usual as the wave slithered adagio.
There was a lot of muffled noise from over where Papyrus was knocking. Oh, yeah... Papyrus knocking. That sounded vaguely familiar.
"SANS?!" Papyrus yelled.
"SANS ARE YOU IN THERE? THE DOOR IS LOCKED AND I MISPLACED YOUR EXTRA KEY..." Papyrus sounded a bit shook up for some reason. Sans groaned miserably, slowly struggling to his feet, trying to muffle his pained whimpers, but doing nothing for the cracking and popping of his joints. He stood wobbling slightly, dots dancing across his vision.
"SANS?" Papyrus' voice sounded very confused. "ARE YOU SLEEPING?" He asked somehow oblivious to the fact he wouldn't be able to answer that question if he was asleep.
"N-No Paps, I'm awake." Sans managed a little guiltily. How long had Papyrus been knocking? He couldn't really tell what with the small dance party going on in his room.
"OH, THANK GOODNESS!" Papyrus breathed. I MADE A SPECIAL BREAKFAST FOR YOU BROTHER!(EVEN IF IT IS NEARLY LUNCHTIME...)" Papyrus said excitedly. "GET DRESSED AND MEET ME IN THE KITCHEN FOR A PLEASANT SURPRISE! NYEHEHEH!" Papyrus cackled excruciatingly loud, the volume carrying through the door easily.
"Ok pap" Sans replied. "Be kitchen up with you in a few." He responded offhandedly, forcing himself to smile so wide it hurt to even imagine the attempt. Though it didn't matter, it wasn't visible to Papyrus, and therefore pointless torture anyways. Sans resigned himself to the frown that didn't hurt to maintain, sighing slowly.
"SANS YOU ARE INSUFFERABLE," Papyrus said simply, his footsteps receding down the stairs.
Welp.
He was getting light headed from standing, so he dropped to his knees and crawled over to his dresser. He slowly, painfully got dressed in tan cargo capris and a large oversized gray hoodie, which he pulled over his head. Satisfyingly, it was a very big hoodie and he was a very small skeleton, so he could just kinda, sink into it if the need arises. Which, on an average day, was sure to at some point.
Sans stretched an arm up to the top of his dresser trying to get a hold but, alas, his short arms were indeed a hindrance. Groaning in exasperation, he pushed himself off the floor with his palms. But this time, he was prepared for the dizziness that assaulted him, gripping the top before he could fall again. Sans opened the top drawer. There were an alarming amount of prescription pills hidden underneath his socks. He took them all dry, letting them slip down his non-existent throat. The room was defeated in a matter of minutes in their wake and had resigned itself to an ambient wiggle, opposed to violent thrashing. Sans laughed in triumph, before managing to embarrass himself into silence.
His head pounded despite the relief of painkiller, reminding him "yes Sans, you are stuck with me" He popped an extra one in to spite it. Looking down to his feet, he decided not to bother with any sort of footwear.
He shuffled through the door trying to look chipper, not sure of his success, due to the sluggish nature of his demeanor. Sans took a detour to the washroom. A washroom is apparently a room that humans require for "relieving" themselves, Whatever that meant. But it doubled as a place you can clean yourself up with.
The extra room came with the house, and Frisk had probably used it, she came by very often, almost every day. She never stops. Even though it's been months since they arrived at the surface. Sans managed to dodge her every time she came around, which was quite a feat. And he dare not answer the door, he let Paps handle that. The few glimpses of her he managed to get showed her to be extremely disappointed, and she usually only stayed a few minutes restlessly as Paps made small talk. He doesn't know why she doesn't just give up. Sans was very good at dodging.
The mirror hung before him, letting him take in the air he inspired. Turns out he 'inspired' extreme exhaustion. Neato. He'd believed he was smiling, but when he stared at his reflection all he saw was a deep frown. The nasty bags which looked more like he was wearing heavy eye makeup, sank deep under his sockets, reminding him of his inability to sleep properly. He would say that they'd leave some sort of permanent scars, making him look years older. But he'd be fooling himself, nothing was permanent.
He might have sounded convincing but he needed to look convincing too. He had kept this routine up for a while now and had purchased some starch white face powder to aid him in his antics. He rubbed it under his eyes thoroughly masking the ugly gray baggage. He pulled his smile up with his fingers, then let them drop. He practiced smiling like this a lot, it always ends up convincing. He would feel accomplished, but the action repulsed him. There was nothing to be proud of unless you were happy to be a fucking faker.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he descended the steps into their kitchen. The microwave was on, and Papyrus was humming happily as Sans entered their newish kitchen. It was better than the last one, but the sink was still way too high for Sans to reach. He couldn't wash his dishes if he wanted to. Which he didn't but he would do for Papyrus, so he didn't have to clean up after him all the time. The kitchen extended a room further, allowing space for a dining table. Though they only had a small round table, two chairs of separate brands pulled up haphazardly.
He'd taken to making sure he didn't let Paps take care of his messes after Frisk said she would give him a break. After all, this one was a for real timeline on the surface, where Sans had never seen before. So he cleaned his room and the small occasional messes here and there. Though he didn't clean his dishes. Papyrus nagged him good-naturedly, but he couldn't all the sudden be as tall as him. It was impossible. Papyrus was damn tall. He only came to his waist at a strong 4'10 which was kinda sad seeing as he was supposed to be older.
"OH, SANS! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?" Papyrus exclaimed. "I SET THE TABLE, MADE ORANGE JUICE, AND PUT THE PASTA IN THE MICROWAVE ALREADY!" He complained
"Oh er s-sorry." Sans said, eyeing the juice dubiously.
Papyrus looked at him expectantly until he realized that he was not going to tell him why. "LAZYBONES!" Papyrus accused, shooting a stern glare in Sans' direction. Sans shrugged.
"ANYWAYS, YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY!" Papyrus brightened immediately.
"MISS MARIA SAW HOW MUCH OF A HARD WORKER I WAS AND KNOWING HOW MUCH I LIKE PASTA AND COOKING SHE SENT ME HOME WITH THE RESTAURANT'S SPECIAL RECIPE! I SPENT ALL NIGHT WORKING ON IT! BUT, ALAS I HAD TO REFRIGERATE IT FOR BREAKFAST... BUT NO MATTER! THE MICROWAVE IS A MARVELOUS INVENTION, THAT RETURNS IT BACK TO ITS FORMER GLORY! Papyrus declared proudly.
"So c-cool papyrus" sans sighed.
"OF COURSE IT IS!" Proclaimed papyrus.
"You stayed up all n-night Pap?" Asked Sans worriedly. Papyrus frowned remembering his brother's blank stare and tight frown from the night before. Sans never frowns. At least that's what he thought?
"I TOOK A NAP BEFORE WAKING YOU UP." Papyrus frowned contemplatively.
Papyrus took several power naps regularly so it really was no bother. He was strong unlike his tiny brother and had less need for rest.
"Oh, well, uh t-take it from me and try to get a full 18 hours tonight." Sans winked. Papyrus sighed, the phrase sounding strange and fake after what he had seen earlier.
"SANS THE ONLY REASON YOU NEED THAT MUCH, IS BECAUSE YOU DON'T GET OUT ENOUGH! YOU SHOULD COME WITH US LATER TONIGHT ME, ASGORE, MISS ASGORE, UNDYNE, ALPHYS, AND FRISK ARE ALL GOING ON A HIKE UP MOUNT EBBOT TO SEE THE STARS!" Papyrus suggested enthusiastically. "DON'T YOU HAVE A TELESCOPE?" Paps inquired.
"Uh yeah, I use it to leech m-money off unsuspecting passersby," Sans replied with a quick grin. He was fascinated by the stars, but not that fascinated that he would spend a night with Frisk. She was creepy.
And since he was on "break" he could afford to leave frisk with his brother. Oh and his uh friends. He really didn't know them all that well. Kinda sad all things considered. But, eh, he is an expert at avoiding things. Like Frisk and her daily visits, Papyrus and his daily activity offers. And Toriel and her pie obsessed family. But maybe he should stop berating everyone in his head, that would probably help their friendship. He used to enjoy people's company, but now it just sets him on edge.
Like, how his non-existent stomach was flip-flopping even more than his dancing vision. He was sort of queasy. Which was weird. It's probably just nerves. Or maybe paps special pasta. It was sorta tasteless to him despite the very abundant seasoning sprinkled over the top. Very very abundant...
"SANS! THAT'S WHERE YOUR RENT COMES FROM?" Papyrus huffed, Sans shrugged."NO MATTER. SANS, YOU HAVE BEEN AVOIDING OUR FRIENDS THE ENTIRE TIME WE'VE BEEN HERE." Papyrus started."THEY'VE BEEN WONDERING WHERE YOU'VE BEEN. IT'S TIME YOU HANG OUT WITH THEM!" Sans' stomach did a twist, in either dread or nausea he couldn't tell.
"P-paps I haven't been avoiding them, I just haven't had the chance-" Sans stuttered.
"NONSENSE! HERE IS YOUR CHANCE! I AM SURE EVERYONE WILL BE ECSTATIC TO SEE YOU AGAIN" Papyrus interrupted, "ESPECIALLY FRISK SHE HAS BEEN DYING TO SEE YOU!" Papyrus added. Sans shuttered at the mention of Frisk, and dying.
"N-Nah you don't need me, I bet you'll have a stellar time without m-me slowing you down," Sans said, his voice not even changing to suit the tone.
"OH, MY STARS SANS! DOES IT EVER STOP?" Papyrus attempted.
"YOU ARE COMING ALONG IF I HAVE TO CARRY YOU THERE MYSELF!" Papyrus said firmly.
He was a little concerned when Sans didn't laugh at the pun himself(I wouldn't be, nobody's laughing), he knew that he'd noticed it. (Mid-paragraph P.O.V change) But Sans couldn't muster a chuckle, unable to mimic the joy of a Papyrus pun. It was too valuable to be faked. He had already developed a bit of a stutter, one thing which was impossible to cover. Papyrus hadn't taken much notice thankfully.
"Aw come on, I doubt I'll even be able to make it up the m-mountain, " Sans said in a desperate attempt to change papyrus' mind.
"SANS YOU ARE COMING, AND THAT IS FINAL," Papyrus said disregarding his feeble excuse. "YOU NEED TO GET OUT, OF THIS HOUSE, IT IS NOT HEALTHY TO STAY INSIDE ALL THE TIME!" Papyrus lectured, waving a hand around in the same likeness. "YOU'RE ALREADY VERY PALE!" Papyrus commented, despite obviously being very pale as well, Considering they're both skeletons and all.
Sans was feeling the familiar sickness well up, more of a nervous stomach flip-flop, or an intimidation of it anyways... he'd have to socialize with the people he had tried so hard to avoid. He'd have to look at them all and pretend nothing was wrong. He'd have to look at Frisk and pretend he considered her a friend. Not only that, he would have to remember who he was supposed to be. When you spend most of your days in the same position on the floor, coming out only to eat dinner with your brother, you forget how to to do things so simple. Who was he supposed to be again? "Funny"? "Laid back"? "Lazy"? Maybe he should write it on his hand. It ached when he remembered that wasn't him anymore... Anxiousness and borderline emptiness became his reality.
And Frisk. Frisk, Frisk. Hopefully, he could handle her presence, his nervousness was amplified tenfold at the bare mention of her. Can you avoid someone whilst being only a few feet apart? He was dreadfully afraid, and nervous which was a drastic change from his usual uneasy. He hadn't even really eaten that much of his brother's special pasta. That's pretty inconsiderate. He spent all night on it. Sans forced himself to eat it all, bite by painful bite.
"SANS I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU MUCH LATELY EITHER...I AM SORRY I WORK EARLY AND CANNOT PROVIDE YOU WITH DELICIOUS HANDCRAFTED MEALS MORE OFTEN." Papyrus started. "BUT HOPEFULLY THIS OUTING WILL MAKE UP FOR MY UNFORTUNATE WORK HOURS." He finished, his broad smile stretching hopefully.
"'S cool Paps I appreciate your c-concern. But really, it's fine, I'm fine." Sans reassured. Papyrus was just feeling bad no need to be snappy with him. Papyrus shot him a strange look again. Maybe sans missed a spot with his powder. He could have sworn he got it good.
"WELL I'M GLAD YOU'RE FINALLY COMING," Papyrus said slowly. "IT'LL BE FUN."
Sans shoved the last bit of pasta into his mouth shuddering a little. He felt so sick, not to mention he wasn't hungry in the slightest.
"This is really good Papyrus," Sans commented.
"REALLY?" Papyrus perked up even more if that was possible.
"DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME MAKE SOME SNACKS FOR THE TRIP?" Papyrus asked. "MRS ASGORE IS BRINGING PIE, BUT I THOUGHT WE SHOULD ALSO BRING SOMETHING." Papyrus elaborated, obviously jumping on the opportunity to cook for somebody other than just Sans.
"Sounds n-nice Papyrus, what do you have in mind?" Sans asked.
"SPAGHETTI!" Papyrus clarified.
"Of course," Sans said, Chuckling. Papyrus brightened on the spot.
"WELL COME ON THEN! YOU CAN BOIL SOME WATER, WHILE I SMASH THE VEGGIES." Papyrus yelled with vigor.
Sans had no idea how he was supposed to boil water, or even get water with the sink so high. This was going to be a bit embarrassing, but he was too short, so he decided on clambering up on the counter. Pot in hand, Sans got on his tiptoes and stretched his arms as far as they would get. He felt dizzy from the very movement, and his stomach(?) was twisting violently. Sans almost puked right there, but he managed to swallow it. Papyrus was staring at him as he pulled a face trying to hide his disgust at the bile.
"Papyrus don't you have v-veggies to pound?" Sans prompted when his brother continued to stare at him while he put the pot under the faucet.
"OH, YEAH," Papyrus said distractedly. "I SHOULD PROBABLY WASH THE DISHES FIRST." Papyrus started. "I'LL DO IT WHEN YOU'RE FINISHED. UNTIL THEN, THE VEGGIES ARE CALLING!" Papyrus called halfheartedly.
Sans was acting weird, had he been the whole time? Papyrus couldn't tell he barely ever saw him. Whenever papyrus was home Sans was always in his room. Papyrus was surprised he never saw how reclusive Sans was. What happened that he hadn't noticed? But he was most likely just overthinking things, Sans probably goes out while he's at work.
While papyrus smashed the vegetables, Sans was filled with dread. But he didn't have to think about that yet, after all, he still had a few hours.