Sans woke with a start, practically throwing himself off of his bed. He stared straight ahead a moment, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his face. His heart felt as though it was palpitating out of his chest-
Whatever train of thought he had derailed as he noted his heartbeat. There was a slight problem with that statement….
That being he didn't have a heart.
"What the hell….?" he mumbled to himself, placing his hand over his heart. His flesh-covered hand. Withdrawing it, he spent a moment staring intently at it. His arm, his hand, was covered in light-brown flesh. White scars criss-crossed over it, some vertical, some horizontal. All rather old and faded. Except for one: a puffy red thing that cross over the swollen vein of his wrist.
Blinking, Sans inspected his other arm to find it very similar. Even the newest scar was there as well…
"Sam!" called a familiar voice as the bedroom door was thrown open. A tall human stood in its wake, brown skinned, freckles splashed over his face. Dark brown hair sat in a frizz on his head, his face long. His eyes were a chocolaty brown.
Sans just stared at him a moment before he slowly said "Papyrus….?"
'Papyrus' blinked a moment before a wide grin stretched across his face. He laughed loudly, boisterously, curling over while holding his stomach. "D-did you just call me 'Papyrus'? Geesh, and I thought you didn't like Undertale."
"What the hell-" Sans began to question before his was cut off.
"No, Sam. It's Patrick. Remember?" Papyrus- Patrick, said, wiping a tear out from underneath his eye. "Anyway, breakfast is just about ready. Come to the kitchen when you're ready, all right?"
All Sans could manage was a mute nod. Patrick laughed again, shaking his head fondly as he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Sans blinked again, letting his gaze slip across the room. It looked very similar to his room(minus the tornado). But there were a few windows with the shades drawn. Sans got off his bed, a mattress on the floor, and went over to the window. His strange fleshy phalanges fiddled with the edges of the curtains before pulling them open.
He couldn't help but wince at the sunlight that came blazing through the dusty window. A few blinks and his eyes adjusted, and he stared out over building which sat atop green hills. Trees stood over the paved roads, and birds perched on a powerline.
Sans closed the curtains.
Sitting down on his bed, he once again investigated his arms. When he squinted, he could see faint freckles on them underneath all the scars. Birds were singing outside.
In a bit of trance, Sans managed to make his way over to the bedroom door. He stopped though, hand on the knob as his brain whirred.
Clearly, the scars on his arms were self-inflicted. Did Papyrus- er, Patrick, know about them? Sans shook his head, trying to clear it of fog. Another moment's consideration, and he took to looking across the room again.
There, on the floor at the foot of the mattress, was a worn gray hoodie. He quickly pulled it on over his arms and exited the room. He didn't have to look too far for the kitchen, as once he stepped out of the room he was there.
Patrick was hovering over something in a skillet, and Sans was surprised to find whatever it was, it smelled good. Awkwardly, he settled down at the kitchen table, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves to make sure his arms were covered.
"Here ya go! Eat up!" Patrick said chipperly, setting down a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. Sans stared at it a moment before clumsily picking up a fork and shoveling some eggs in his mouth. To his utter shock, it actually wasn't half-bad. Maybe a quarter bad.
Sans silently ate his breakfast, his brain trying frantically to figure out what on earth was going on. He was human, Papyrus was human, they were on the surface…. What on earth happened-
He froze mid-bite.
Suddenly in his mind's eye, he saw them. That brunette child with the pink-and-blue sweater. They were covered in dust, and in one hand they held a knife. Their eyes shined red as a smile stretched across their face as the knife ripped through bone and fabric. Blood gushed across the golden tiles of the Judgement Hall….
"Sam!" Papyrus's voice snapped him back to himself, but all he saw was Patrick. The man was snapping his fingers in front of his eyes, a rather concerned frown plastered on his face. When Sans blinked at him, he forced a smile. "Y'back to us?"
"Uh….yeah. Sorry, bro." Sans said as he put on a just as fake grin. Patrick's expression dropped.
"You called me 'bro'." He observed.
Sans blinked again and nodded stiffly. Patrick sighed.
"Now I know something is wrong. You only ever call me that when you're upset. Sam, what's going on?" His brown eyes were soft and betrayed only concern. Sans swallowed down the urge to tell him the truth.
"Uh…..well….I….." Sans fidgeted, looking everywhere but those eyes. Patrick titled his head, then gave a soft smile.
"Another nightmare?"
"Er….yeh." Sans said, his eyes settling on his plate. An arm was draped around his shoulder and he was pulled into a half-hug.
"It's okay, brother. You're okay." Patrick said sweetly.
Sans heart sunk as he fought back the urge to argue. That hug lasted far too long, even though it was only a few seconds. Eventually Patrick pulled away.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." Sans lied.
Patrick seemed to have bought it, grinning widely "Glad to hear it!" He poked Sans in the arm "Now please finish your breakfast so you can drive me to school."
Sans stiffened at the word 'drive'. "Uh...yeah, I'm done anyway."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Great!" Patrick chirped happily, throwing on a backpack and bounding towards the door. "Come on then, you lazy bones!"
"Right." Sans said simply, shuffling over to the door. A pair of ragged-ass sandals were thrown haphazardly on the floor, so he assumed they were his. After putting them on he followed Patrick down a hallway and a flight of stairs, and into a parking lot. Sitting there waiting for them was a small, gray car. It was a silly looking thing, looking kind of like a cube on wheels. There was only enough room for the two of them in front, and maybe one extra person in back.
Sans slid into the driver's seat buckling his seatbelt because he knew he had to do at least that much. He wrapped his fingers around the wheel and drummed them along the rim. Patrick sat next to him, looking out the window with so much enthusiasm he looked as if he might burst.
"Well, let's get going!" He grinned.
Sans forced a grin back "Right." He fumbled out the key he found in his pocket and prayed it was the right one. It was, as it started the ignition with a click. Silently, he reviewed everything he has ever read about driving a car. So he put the car in reverse, backed up, managed to turn and go forward….
Thheeeeeennnnn everything went to shit.
Before he could know what was going on, the car was speeding as fast as its wheels would allow, flipping over the fenced-in parking lot and landing on its tires on the road, where it raced against all the over cars, except going in the opposite direction.
Sans frantically turned the wheel, avoiding most of the other cars that swerved to avoid them. Patrick was screaming, clinging onto the dashboard so hard his knuckles were white.
"SAM! OTHER WAY!"
"YEAH, I GATHERED!" Sans snapped, turning the wheel harshly. It screeched as the tires jerked left, spinning the car around. Now they were going the right way, at least.
"OKAY, GOOD." Patrick screeched "NOW SLOW DOWN!"
"RIGHT-UH-" Sans kicked the pedals underneath him dumbly, trying in vain to figure out which one of the damn things was a brake.
While he was kicking, a siren sounded behind them.
"Shit fuck shit-" Sans stammered, seeing the police car in the rear-view mirror.
"SAM!"
"I'm TRYIN'- Oh, okay you got it." Sans blinked as the passenger suddenly became the driver, reaching over and taking the wheel, steering them to the side of the road where he pulled a lever and the car came to a rather abrupt halt.
Patrick sighed in relief, letting go of the wheel and slouching against his seat. Sans offered a sheepish grin to which Patrick shot him a glare in return. Sans shrugged and looked away.
Not too long afterwards, maybe a minute, there was a knock on the window. Sans rolled it down to smile goofily at the officer that stood there, sunglasses, badge and all.
"Do you know how many traffic laws you broke?" He asked in a gruff voice.
"At least two, I imagine." Sans offered pitifully. The officer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"All right. I need to see your license." he demanded, holding out his hand.
"Right. License. Uh…" Sans patted his pockets, hoping for the best. Luckily, one of them had a worn-down leather wallet in it. Upon opening it, he discovered a card with a picture on it. Staring back at him was a tired man with blue eyes and scruffy brown hair with freckles splattered on his cheekbones. The name read 'Samuel Miles'.
He handed it to the officer, hoping it was a license. Apparently it was, as the officer did some screening, handed it back, mumbled something and handed him a bright orange slip of paper.
"Uh…" Sans blinked as he took it. The officer rolled his eyes.
"A ticket."
"Oh. Uh. Thanks." Sans said dumbly.
"Sorry, Officer." Patrick said a lot less dumbly as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'll drive now. Sam, switch places with me."
"Uh….sure." Sans said with a shrug, doing what he was told. A few more minutes chatting with Mr. Officer and they were on their way with only about 700 dollars in fines.
Patrick sat silently as he drove. His arms were stiff and his eyes glued straight ahead. Sans shifted a bit, coming to the conclusion the Papyrus-like person he was with had a bit of anxiety when it came to driving. A long stretch of time was held in silence.
"What the hell was that about?" Patrick said to break it.
"Watch your language." Sans said on impulse.
"I'M TWENTY-TWO, SAM! I THINK I'M ALLOWED TO SWEAR BY NOW!" Patrick snapped, glaring at Sans. Sans was taken aback, recoiling at the shout.
"Damn, alright, geesh…" He threw his hands up in defeat. Patrick huffed, turning his attention back to the road, his grip on the wheel tightening. Sans stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted his gaze out of the window.
"Sam, it wasn't just a nightmare, was it?" Patrick said softly.
"...Nope." Sans sighed.
"Sam…." Patrick sighed now "All right, I'm bringing you home. I'll drive myself to class today."
"Right." Sans said.
After another few minutes, they arrived at their apartment complex and Sans casually hopped out of the car.
"Brother." Patrick said before Sans shut the car door. Sans looked over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. Patrick smiled "I love you."
Sans's returning smile was sad "I love you too."
Patrick nodded as the door shut and he drove away. Sans managed his way back to his apparent apartment and went to his room. He closed the door, fell on the mattress and slept.
A/N
I don't know what's going on. It's probably Gaster's fault.