"I cannot be awake, for nothing looks to me as it did before, or else I am awake for the first time, and all before has been a mean sleep."
-Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: "Song of Myself"
Your POV:
I'd never had the displeasure of being cursed with a hangover, but that morning, I think I might have gotten close to what I imagined it might be like.
Waking up was slow going, but that was fine; I didn't know what had happened the night before (heck, I didn't know what year it was), but I knew that I didn't want to deal with it until later. Much, much later. Maybe never; maybe I actually was hungover and had blacked out last night so I wouldn't have to remember-
'heh... you aight there, sweetheart?'
I sat up with a shriek, throwing the twisted covers off of my torso as I frantically scanned my surroundings. My breathing was deep and wild as my eyes shot back and forth across my empty room.
...I was alone. He... sans... was gone. I sighed out the breath I was holding and allowed myself to relax just a bit, laying back down and pulling the covers back up to my chin before freezing when I realized that sans had probably carried me to bed. Urgh...Knowing that the skeleton had most likely tucked me in the night before was not helping my already fragile mental state.
The familiar, calming aura of the waking city outside were at stark odds with my racing thoughts.
The warm light of dawn greeted me cheerily through the window, casting soft, chittering patterns on the wall above my bed... Birds sung brightly in the lone tree beyond that wall, going about their business without a care in the world... I could hear people laughing and talking below that tree as they prepared to cross the street, making small talk on their way to their normal nine to five jobs... How strange it seemed that the sun would rise that morning, but there it was: the day still started, right on time.
...Could I really take on any of that right now?
It was so surreal; there I was, after everything I'd felt and seen the night before, just lying in my bed like nothing had happened. Like this was just another morning. Like it was all just some outrageous dream... or more accurately, an especially vivid nightmare.
I stared listlessly at the ceiling of my dingy apartment as I slowly sorted through the circumstances leading up to that point. The alleyway, the shot, running home, him... my soul. what had sans done to me? Why couldn't I remember anything after... that?
Worse still than what I couldn't remember were the things I knew I wouldn't be able to forget. Those lifeless eyes looking blankly off into the distance over the red shock of blood soaking through the white snow... it was an image that was sure to remain seared into the back of my mind until the day I died. And from the way things were looking, that day might arrive ahead of schedule. That thought nearly swung me back into panic mode.
Oh God, forget what he'd done, what was Sans planning to do with me?
'I have to leave. Now.'
I threw my comforters off and quickly stood, fully intending to pack away what little I owned and go into hiding- I'd be fine, it was nothing I hadn't handled before- when a dark bundle sitting on my desk caught my eye. I walked over to tentatively pick up and examine the pile of fabric and... what in the world?
"A coat...?" I murmured softly to myself as I ran my fingers along the expensive looking material, completely in awe at how incredibly soft and luxurious the article both looked and felt. The black coat was furlined and insulated, built for both fashion and functionality. I squealed as I nuzzled my face into the hood, unable to help my giddy smile; Even if I'd saved for months I wouldn't have been able to afford something like the work of art I was holding!
Forgetting myself in my excitement, I almost missed the sliver of paper that fluttered to the ground in my rush to get the coat on. My mood abruptly dropped again as the slightly crumpled note reminded me of whom I owed the lavish thing now weighing heavily on my shoulders.
Embarrassed despite no one being around to witness my foolishness, I bent slowly down and meekly plucked the page off the floor. It read:
hey sweetheart, hope u liked the gift. cant wait 2 c it on u 2day. c u soon,
~sans
ps, i know what you're thinking. Don't. ok ok 4 real this time,
~sans
... I needed a moment after that.
Reading over the note again and again, I didn't know whether I should have been shaking with dread or laughing at the ridiculously ironic font. I ended up compromising with a weak, slightly hysterical chuckle. Comic sans; how fitting.
I crumpled up the paper and tossed it towards the garbage bin by my desk, not bothering to retrieve the offending thing when it bounced off the rim and hit the floor. I really didn't feel like bothering with anything that day, to be honest... but I knew it didn't matter what I felt. The world was revolving with or without me, and like it or not, I was a cog in that machine just like everyone else.
I let out a drained sigh and dragged my feet to the shower.
____________________________________
Sans' POV:
She... gave it away.
She gave it away.
Maybe I should have been ashamed for short cutting to her apartment at the crack of dawn, but I honestly couldn't have cared less; after all the trauma she'd been through the night before, I had to know how she was doing. Or more accurately... how bad the damage was. I'd stayed outside her apartment door after tucking her into bed, letting the guilt and worry and unwanted heat eat away at me for hours. Needless to say I didn't get much sleep after that.
But there I was, grumpy and tired off my bony ass at seven in the fuckin' morning, watching in disgust as she gave away my expensive apology to some weathered old crone.
I was l i v i d.
...But then.
My anger softened slightly when _____ kneeled down on the dirty street to wrap the woman in a hug that was infinitely warmer than the coat itself. My soul stuttered a bit as her embrace was returned with a wide smile and with just as much fervor as it was given. After giving another hug to the other very similar looking old woman beside the first, _______ went on her way, a soft smile on her face despite the tension in her eyes and shoulders.
I was livid... and confused.
For the next hour I lingered in the shadows behind her, watching as she made four more stops further into town. The first stop was to greet a group of four people of varying ages who were holed up in the very back of an alleyway beside three ratty tents and a burning oil drum. She gave them each ten dollars in cash and stood with them around the fire, talking and laughing like they were old friends. They even gave her a little cup of the soup they were eating; I cringed in distaste when one of them said it was "home" made- they had all chuckled a little at that- but _____ didn't seem to mind, accepting the meager meal like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The last couple visits, each to a single person, spanned several blocks. They all went pretty much the same way as the last two, with her giving them ten dollars before chatting them up. The tightness gradually drained away with each person she greeted, until finally, her smile was brighter and more genuine than I'd ever seen. Not that she'd ever smiled for me; after all, I didn't exactly give her a reason to...
I was livid, and confused, and in absolute awe.
Everything she did, everything she gave... God, she was just so pure. How did something like this girl exist in such a rotten world? I'd seen the kindness in her soul, of course, the brightest and most concentrated light I had ever seen... but to see it in action was a jarring experience that made me feel inadequate and small for the first time in years.
How the hell was I gonna measure up to that?
____________________________________
Your POV:
After making my daily rounds for all my friends, I headed to Louie's, chilled as the dickens but happy nonetheless. My morning visits to my friends always left me a bit more chipper than when I started. Granted I couldn't help them much, but it still gave me a little piece of mind to know that I could at least make sure they were fed and warm. Once I started making more money and found Garrett and Casey some jobs, maybe we could work toward getting everyone a place to stay. The thought made me so wisfully giddy that for a moment I forgot my own problems.
It was the least I could do for them after all they had done for me.
When I reached Louie's at nine thirty, like clockwork, the homey diner was already buzzing with the usual morning crowd. Smiling, I breathed in the familiar aroma of waffles and omelets and coffee before heading behind the counter to start my shift.