Night Terror
(Summary: In which Sans has the first nightmare of many, and Papyrus doesn't know what to do.)
Inspired by Set It Off 's Duality and Nightmare
(A/N:I suggest listening to either one of those songs quietly in the background as you read. ^.^)
Papyrus was a relatively light sleeper. The soon-to-be Royal Guardsman usually awoke easily when the occasional snowstorm would kick up, and the wind would howl and sometimes send debris from outside smacking into him and his brother's cabin. More often, even the small, blinking light on the monitor of his computer would wake him up in the darkness of the night. Sometimes he would feel as if he were being watched and would be pulled from his doze, only to look and see one of his action figures turned directly at him, compelling Papyrus to even get up and make sure they are all turned around properly.
There are some instances, however, when Papyrus would jolt awake to a sound that wasn't a storm. Sometimes there was an instance when he would think a snowstorm had started to become severe, but then he would hear the heavy crashes and thuds resounding from the wall opposite of his bed; resounding from Sans' room.
An instance like tonight.
Concerned, Papyrus threw his checkered blanket off of himself and swung his legs over his red racecar bed, straining to listen in his T-shirt and pajama pants that were too short. Soon enough, though, a loud crash made him jump, and he rushed to his bedroom door and swung it open.
"Sans?!" He called louder than his usual volume, walking the short distance from his door to his brother's in long strides. Papyrus hesitated before opening his brother's door, his eye-sockets widening as he looked down to see a cyan blue cast on his skeletal feet, and his mouth curved into a fearful shape. He jumped when something shattered inside the room, and he finally flung the door open. The skeleton froze, his jawbone slackening as he took in the scene before him.
Objects were hovering in the air, some even flying in unusual patterns throughout the area. The mattress Sans used was pinned against the opposite wall it was supposed to be against, as if stuck to the place where the wall and the ceiling met. His window was shattered, the shards of glass frozen just outside of the window as if someone had paused their motion after busting through. His dresser was hovering in the air, spinning in lazy circles around the room, the lamp that rested on it somehow remaining perched in its place, the cord curling up and swishing around. Sans' treadmill was still on, hovering in place in the corner his dresser was to be in. Socks, a plate of spaghetti, a book, and numerous articles of trash were hurling themselves around the room. The ball of sheets Sans usually slept with, instead of moving them, was ripped to shreds somehow, and lashing around in wild circles around the cause of it all; Sans.
Hovering in the air, curled up into a tight form, his eye sockets were open and his left eye was blazing the same blue as the aura that covered anything moving around the room. However, Papyrus could tell his brother wasn't all there—his eye sockets looking but not quite seeing. His eye was glazed over, as if he were in a stupor; his smile strained and had grown too wide out of fear, while sweat was beading down his skull and dripping onto the cool-colored carpet beneath him. Papyrus could hear his brother's bones clattering together as he trembled, and his skeletal hands tore at his face in agony.
But the screams.
The screams and the cries his brother emitted were not something Papyrus thought his brother was capable of. It was the sound of complete and utter horror. Something the tall skeleton had never really heard—or had ever really wanted to hear; especially not from his older brother.
"Sans!" Papyrus exclaimed in alarm, "Sans, what is going on?! Why are your things flying?!"
The shorter skeleton gave no response, but the items moving around the room started to go through their motions a bit faster.
Papyrus dared taking a cautious step into the room, as if testing to see if it would have an effect of some sort. When nothing changed, Papyrus carefully took a few more steps.
"Brother? Brother, what is wrong?! What is—"
Papyrus was cut off as a guttural wail ripped from his stout brother's form. Something had shifted. The furniture had started moving faster, sending a pang of fear surging through Papyrus' soul.
"B-brother!" Papyrus was getting scared. He'd never seen Sans like this. Could he even hear him?
There was a loud bang as Sans' dresser slammed into the wall with enough force to shake the floor. There was sure to be a large crack there, now. Sans had started thrashing while suspended mid-air, his arms flailing and his legs kicking wildly in blind panic. Sans' eye sockets were wide and his grin stretched even further, similar to that of a sadistic clown, as another wail escaped him. Despite the smile, Papyrus knew it wasn't genuine in any way, shape or form. He couldn't change his mouth shape quite like Papyrus could. Whatever emotion his brother may be feeling, Papyrus knew it was something very, very far from happiness.
Papyrus' knees started to quake. What was this? What was this horrible side of his older sibling? Was it even Sans doing this? It terrified Papyrus to think that this was happening against Sans' will.
He tried again to call for his brother.
"Sans!" The tall skeleton cried out, "Sans it is I! Papyrus! Brother it is me!"
Sans was sobbing now between his terrified screaming. Through the onslaught of noise, Papyrus could hear his older brother's wails turning into cries for help and mercy. The tall skeleton had even caught a piece of his name in the string of unintelligible cries.
Papyrus was starting to cry now, too, and, with a burst of courage, though fearing what may happen, he threw himself at Sans, wrapping his arms around his hurting brother. He took the hits from Sans as he flailed in blind panic, screaming even louder for whatever was scaring him to stop.
Sans' deep voice was reaching volumes his brother didn't think possible. Papyrus held on tighter, calling his brother's name over and over, trying to reassure him.
"Sans, stop! You are alright! Nothing is hurting you! Perhaps this is just a dream! Brother! Brother, please! It is me, Papyrus! Sans!" He shouted, though he could hear the furniture behind him being thrown even more violently around, and Sans' dresser slammed dangerously close to where the two brothers were.
"Sans!"
Still, the panicked skeleton shrieked and threw himself about, his eye sockets wide and etched with fear. Papyrus could feel Sans' body growing hotter from the torrents of magic thundering out of him and into the objects within his brother's mental reach. At this rate, he would over-exert himself. Papyrus had rarely seen Sans use his magic—the only times being when his eye illumined as a sign of distress, and when they had played games as children and Sans would use his magic to cheat.
But it had never been used for something like this; for something so…scary.
Papyrus briefly wondered if Sans was controlling anything beyond his own room.
"S-Sans! Brother, I-I do not know what I am to do! You must stop! Please! Sans, you are scaring me! I do not know what is wrong! I am worried about you! Sans, please! Brother!" Papyrus cried. He strengthened his hold on Sans, and turned his brother's head so he could look into his eyes. Papyrus choked on a sob. He didn't know what to do. Should he call someone? Undyne or Alphys? Maybe they would know what was going on.
But he couldn't bring himself to let go of his brother to retrieve his cell phone.
"Sans…" Papyrus sputtered, tears streaming down his cheekbones. He pressed his forehead against his brother's, and could feel the heat beneath his own eye-socket start to flicker to life. Sans' body emitted tremor after tremor, still wailing all the while, though his voice was starting to sound hoarse.
Papyrus jumped when he suddenly felt his brother's hand grip his T-shirt. His brother sucked in a panicked stream of air, and his form suddenly stopped moving. The tremors stopped. The shrieking stopped. The items in the room had gone eerily still, halted in their place by the unseen power of Sans' magic.
"P-p-" Papyrus heard him sputter, and lifted his forehead.
Sans' eyes were bleary, glazed and confused, though he was still showing signs of fear. But he was actually looking at Papyrus, now, rather than through him.
"Sans…?" Papyrus asked softly, tensing in case he spun Sans back into a panic.
The tall skeleton's heart dropped when Sans let out a wail, and started sobbing all over again, this time burying his skull into Papyrus' collarbone. Fearful that Sans was going to start thrashing again, Papyrus, clutched him tighter. But his dread was replaced with confusion when he realized the items in the room weren't thrashing around, and Sans was actually holding onto him now with both arms, though his body was still suspended in the air.
"P-pap-…!" Sans sobbed. "Pap."
Papyrus almost jumped out of his bones when the dresser near the door suddenly dropped to the floor from four feet in the air, shaking the floor and sounding off a worryingly loud thud. The same happened to Sans' mattress, and the trash that was suspended in the air. The sheets did the same, as well as the treadmill, which, upon impact, made a sound that convinced Papyrus it was broken, now. The glass outside of Sans' window continued its forgotten trajectory, and landed somewhere in the trees.
And then there were the numerous thuds that sounded downstairs, and Papyrus looked back in the direction of Sans' door, worried of what Sans could have possibly managed to pick up down there.
"Pap, I-" Sans stammered, "I thought y-you were—you were—"
He quickly lost his composure again, his body slowly losing hold of itself and he drifted gently to the floor in Papyrus' arms. The tall skeleton sank with him, his face betraying his confused concern.
"Brother, what…" Papyrus started, gazing around the disarrayed room, "What just happened…?"
He'd tried to ask it as softly as he could, but his nervousness made his voice heighten, and he couldn't help but still feel a bit shaky.
He could only image how Sans was feeling.
Papyrus allowed the short skeleton to sob in his shoulder for a while, listening to the wind whistling through the open window, and feeling his brother shake against him.
"'M…'M sorry, Pap," Sans suddenly said quietly after a while. "I'm just a little rattled, huh…?"
Papyrus heard the haunted echo in Sans' voice.
"Sans," Papyrus started gently, carefully peeling his brother off of him so that he could see his face. His eye was no longer blue, and a prick of light was seen in the darkness of Sans' eye sockets. His face was tired—exhausted. Probably from using so much magic so quickly at one time, Papyrus reasoned. Sans' grin was no longer the insane mask of pain, but a tired smile that Sans was struggling to widen. Tears stained the dry bone that made up his older brother, but he knew his own face held the same crack-like pattern of tears.
"Sans, I… I do not really understand what just happened, but… Well… Do you remember what happened…?" Papyrus prodded gently.
"'S just a nightmare, Pap… S'all… 'M fine…" Sans slurred, and his eye sockets started to droop, and his head slowly tipped forward a little.
"Sans, that was not just a nightmare. This was… something different," Papyrus argued, giving his brother a nudge to keep him awake. "Brother, you were using magic in your sleep; your eye was…"
At this, Sans finally lifted his head, blinked, and looked—really looked—around. His grin almost dropped completely, though it was still there—a mask that he couldn't take off no matter how devastating something was.
"I—? I did this?" Sans gaped, his eye sockets wide in shock. Something seemed to jolt Sans. "P-Pap, did I—? Did I hurt you?"
"N-no, brother! I am fine; it is not me we should be talking about!" Papyrus said quickly, "Y-you had a… nightmare…? That caused all of this…?"
Sans seemed to still be scanning Papyrus for injuries, but finally nodded, confirming that it was a nightmare.
"I do not think… That they have ever been that bad, brother…What, um, was your dream about…?" Papyrus asked softly, trying not to put his brother through any further stress but very much wanting to know what had caused such a traumatic reaction to a simple dream.
Sans' eye sockets went dark—no light shone in them at all—and his grin grew but only because he had reacted to something that was, perhaps, something Papyrus didn't know. When sans look like that it always sent shivers down Papyrus' spine. That never meant anything good.
"N-nothing… Pap… I—uh don't really wanna talk about it…" Sans said, lowering his head, his eye sockets still dark.
Papyrus almost protested, but decided against it. His brother had been through enough tonight.
"I-… I'm sorry if I, um, scared you, Pap… I really didn't mean ta'… ta' do any of this…" Sans said lowly, looking up at Papyrus with sad little lights in his eyes.
"Do not apologize, brother! You are not in control of your bad dreams! You did not mean to destroy your room! It is alright!" Papyrus reassured. "The Great Papyrus will put everything the exact place it was!"
"Ah, no, Pap; you don't gotta do that… I can… I can…" Sans was interrupted with a long, deep yawn, and Papyrus rolled his eyes good-heartedly.
"We will both rest for the rest of the night. The Great Papyrus insists! We will rest and I will make you my extra-special spaghetti for breakfast tomorrow!" Papyrus said, a determined grin poking at his cheekbones.
"That sounds just…" Sans yawned again, the place under his eye sockets somehow looking like dark circles. "…awesome…"
"Nyeh heh!" Papyrus proceeded to scoop up Sans and carefully pick his way through the chaotic room. "Though, I think your treadmill is broken, now. Perhaps Alphys could take a look at it."
Sans suddenly looked up at Papyrus with a grin—one that wasn't actually forced.
"Guess I really ran into that situation."
Papyrus halted and gave him a deadpan. "Okay, even you have to admit that that one was a stretch."
Sans' eyes suddenly glittered, and he broke out into a deep chuckle. "Heh heh heh, I get it."
Papyrus looked baffled. "What do you mea—oh."
They both started breaking out into chuckles, and Papyrus continued the trek back to his room with Sans in his arms so that they could both rest for the few remaining hours of the night. He didn't care that he'd have to redo Sans' room tomorrow, or even that his living room or kitchen might possibly be destroyed. He didn't care that Sans wouldn't tell him about his nightmare, or even the fact that he'd tried to brush his outburst off like it was nothing.
The important thing was that his brother was safe.
He was okay.
And that's all Papyrus really cared about.