The light was turned on. You turned around. It was Sans. "Frisk? Is everything alright? What's wrong?" Blueberry had a concerned look on his face. You squeezed him tight, tears still streaming down your face. "I-I don't know what happened. I tried to, I mean, I-" You tried to talk, considering whether you should tell him or not. You ended up crying even harder. Your hands were violently shaking.
You heard a door open, and Papyrus came out. He looked tired. He was about to turn and go back to sleep, but then he saw you with tears all over your face, sobbing, and immediately rushed over. He squeezed you and Sans tight.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's fine." Papyrus said. It just made you cry harder and harder. You took deep breaths, trying to calm down. You kept reassuring yourself that it was only a dream. It's not real. It isn't hurting anyone. You kept repeating to yourself, "It was only a dream. It was only a dream."
So why does all this feel so wrong?
"If you'd like, you can sleep with me tonight," said Blueberry. He offered his hand. You wiped away your tears and sniffled, then went upstairs with him. You felt bad. Every gesture of kindness from your 'victims' was just making you feel worse.
Papyrus followed you up and went back to his room. You didn't feel tired at all. It seemed Blueberry wasn't sleeping either. He sat up and faced you.
You sat up. You both locked eyes for a moment, not saying a word. Then you broke the silence. "So does Papyrus have a nickname? Like, you're Blueberry, so does Papyrus have one?" Sans giggled a little bit, then replied, "Carrot."
"Carrot?" It did describe him though. Tall, slim, orange. "Yeah. Otherwise, we call him Paps, Papy, you get it." You both just stared, until Sans said, "Well, good night." You laid back, and suddenly you were exhausted. Your eyes fell closed, and you slept.
You woke up. You were happy that you didn't have any nightmares again. Sans was next to you, drool rolling down onto his taco pajamas. Then you rolled off the bed and fell. "Ow. Crap," you said, then stood up. Sans opened his eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Nah," you replied. "Just fell off the bed."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's really nothing."
"Ok. I'm just concerned for your safety. Especially after last night. Don't worry, I, the Great Sans, shall protect you!"
You giggled. Sans didn't even look tough enough to protect a rock. You wrapped your arm around him, then softly and playfully punched him. You then got out of bed. Sans went back to sleep. You had slept in your clothes. You ran your fingers through your hair and tugged at your shirt, trying to pull yourself together as much as you could at the moment. Next time you climb a mountain, you thought, bring stuff with you.
You smelled something downstairs. Papyrus was making breakfast for you and Sans. He laughed when he saw you, but you didn't know what was wrong. Then he came over and pulled Sans's scarf that was hanging off of your shirt sleeve. He held it for a few moments, clutching it like a little kid with a favorite stuffed animal, staring into its deep blue shade and its torn edges, as if it were the only time he would ever get to touch it. Then he sighed, and put it down on the table.
He looked up at you, then pulled something out of his pocket. Cigarettes. He pulled one out, then lit it. You saw a flash of orange in his eye. You blinked, and it was gone. You "assumed" it was just the lighter. He sat down for a while, and took a drag. Smoke curled out of his eyesockets. You coughed. Papyrus looked a bit irritated and glad at the same time. You couldn't tell. He was always smiling.
You heard the familiar sound of tiny footsteps making its way toward you.
You heard a door open, and Papyrus came out. He looked tired. He was about to turn and go back to sleep, but then he saw you with tears all over your face, sobbing, and immediately rushed over. He squeezed you and Sans tight.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's fine." Papyrus said. It just made you cry harder and harder. You took deep breaths, trying to calm down. You kept reassuring yourself that it was only a dream. It's not real. It isn't hurting anyone. You kept repeating to yourself, "It was only a dream. It was only a dream."
So why does all this feel so wrong?
"If you'd like, you can sleep with me tonight," said Blueberry. He offered his hand. You wiped away your tears and sniffled, then went upstairs with him. You felt bad. Every gesture of kindness from your 'victims' was just making you feel worse.
Papyrus followed you up and went back to his room. You didn't feel tired at all. It seemed Blueberry wasn't sleeping either. He sat up and faced you.
You sat up. You both locked eyes for a moment, not saying a word. Then you broke the silence. "So does Papyrus have a nickname? Like, you're Blueberry, so does Papyrus have one?" Sans giggled a little bit, then replied, "Carrot."
"Carrot?" It did describe him though. Tall, slim, orange. "Yeah. Otherwise, we call him Paps, Papy, you get it." You both just stared, until Sans said, "Well, good night." You laid back, and suddenly you were exhausted. Your eyes fell closed, and you slept.
You woke up. You were happy that you didn't have any nightmares again. Sans was next to you, drool rolling down onto his taco pajamas. Then you rolled off the bed and fell. "Ow. Crap," you said, then stood up. Sans opened his eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Nah," you replied. "Just fell off the bed."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's really nothing."
"Ok. I'm just concerned for your safety. Especially after last night. Don't worry, I, the Great Sans, shall protect you!"
You giggled. Sans didn't even look tough enough to protect a rock. You wrapped your arm around him, then softly and playfully punched him. You then got out of bed. Sans went back to sleep. You had slept in your clothes. You ran your fingers through your hair and tugged at your shirt, trying to pull yourself together as much as you could at the moment. Next time you climb a mountain, you thought, bring stuff with you.
You smelled something downstairs. Papyrus was making breakfast for you and Sans. He laughed when he saw you, but you didn't know what was wrong. Then he came over and pulled Sans's scarf that was hanging off of your shirt sleeve. He held it for a few moments, clutching it like a little kid with a favorite stuffed animal, staring into its deep blue shade and its torn edges, as if it were the only time he would ever get to touch it. Then he sighed, and put it down on the table.
He looked up at you, then pulled something out of his pocket. Cigarettes. He pulled one out, then lit it. You saw a flash of orange in his eye. You blinked, and it was gone. You "assumed" it was just the lighter. He sat down for a while, and took a drag. Smoke curled out of his eyesockets. You coughed. Papyrus looked a bit irritated and glad at the same time. You couldn't tell. He was always smiling.
You heard the familiar sound of tiny footsteps making its way toward you.
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