That night he dreams of them.

He dreams of hands against his skull, pushing him into the wall like he's nothing, barely able to think clearly. His entire mind feels clouded with something vile, poisonous.

And they laugh. Grating noises, loud. Papyrus hates the sound, the cruelness in their tone.

He's just afternoon entertainment to them.

He wakes up, entire body convulsing with the sensation of their fingertips against his bones and he pulls the blanket up over his head as if somehow that will end it. Make the thoughts racing through his head stop.

He feels dirty all of the sudden.

"Papyrus?"

Sans is standing in the doorway, fingers clenched around the frame and he looks... pained. Like he's hurt or something.

Papyrus is sitting up in a heartbeat, own strife momentarily shoved to the back of his priorities at the expression on his brother's face.

"You were... kinda making a lot of noise. In your sleep." Sans says, face almost turned to the wall instead of at him and Papyrus deflates, curls into himself at the mere idea of what that must have been.

"Oh-" His entire skull feels weird, absent. Like nothing is connecting properly anymore. "Bad dreams."

And while one part of him vehemently wishes Sans would just take that excuse and run with it, leave him alone to wallow in his misery, there's another part that wants nothing more than for his brother to come over and somehow make things better.

Papyrus doesn't want to be alone.

"What kind of bad dream?" Sans asks, taking a step inside but he's lingering still, unsure if he's allowed to intrude upon this moment.

Everything has been so different since coming to the surface, it's like they barely know each other anymore.

"It's not important."

And then his brother is moving, pushing forward through the doubts and in a blink of an eye Sans is next to him, face contorting with worry, a seriousness falling over him that rarely belongs there. "Papyrus... please tell me."

He reaches out and Papyrus flinches.

"It doesn't matter. It's nothing." He says again, straining the words.

Normally he's an excellent liar but something about this gets caught in his throat. Sticks like bile. Sans' face grows darker still.

"What happened?" He asks, voice as calm as a sea harboring a storm. A tightness that can fell mountains.

Papyrus sighs. "It's fine. I'm fine. They didn't do anything."

"I think they did more than enough." Sans says, the anger there sudden. Foreign.

Papyrus hates it.

He doesn't want to make a thing out of this. Doesn't have the energy for it really. He wants to fall asleep and forget anything happened at all.

"Whatever you're thinking Sans, don't- Just... don't." Because he knows what his brother wants to do to them and it wouldn't change a thing.

"Papyrus?" He shifts suddenly, slowly, and nods. "Bro, just tell me what happened."

"I can't." It burns, somewhere deep in his ribcage. Saying it out loud would be too much for him right now, Papyrus can feel it. "Not yet."

"What then?" Sans asks, hand clenching at nothing and Papyrus takes it in his, squeezing.

"Stay." He says. "I don't feel like sleeping anymore."

"Ok." his brother's eyes dart away, back. He tries to smile but they're both not feeling it. "Ok. How about a story then."

"A story would be nice." Papyrus says softly.

Sans gets up to browse his books, picks out Papyrus' favorite and for the rest of the night they both pretend things are all right.


And that's the end of this little two-shot. Sorry it wasn't happier, it was an angst bingo after all-