Darkness bathed the room, turning objects to shadows that, if he were a child, would become cruel creatures.

Somehow, even in his age, they almost feel like they were coming to eat him.

Sans wasn't sure what woke him up. For a moment, everything was silent, nothing breaking the constant of night's hum. Then, there was a soft sobbing, muffled by the closed door and the distance. He peeled himself from his lumpy mattress, pushing aside of the ball of blankets and sheets. The garbage tornado had slowed, the trash gently clashing and tumbling. But he ignored the familiarity, opening the door.

Naturally, the sobs were louder now. His soul twisted.

Papyrus was in the hall, having been awakened by the cries, as well. The brothers shared concerned looks before the taller one made his move down the steps. Sans remained, now looking down from the balcony.

Papyrus settled by the makeshift bed, the TV's faint rumble accompanying its clutter. The sniffles and whimpers swam over the hum. He could see the small, trembling body, which now lie bare from his blankets.

"Error?" Papyrus whispered.

In response, he got a scream.

He glanced up to Sans with a panicked look, but only got a nervous thumbs up in return.

"Little Bones," he tried again, "you're okay. Shhh…. It was just a dream… It can't hurt you…"

Little Bones hiccupped, squirming, but no longer screaming. Papyrus scooted closer cautiously, grabbing the teddy from its resting spot.

"Little Bones, Mr. Teddy wants a hug. He doesn't like seeing you cry…"

The body slowly turned to face him, a hand, shaking, like an earthquake braced against the tiny surface, reaching for the bear. Seeing the tears shining morbidly in the dim lighting, Papyrus found himself feeling sick.

The child snatched the toy, holding it close to his chest, "Mr. Pah."

Papyrus gave a small smile, triumph in this small victory, "yes, sorry. We haven't formally met. Will he tell me something about himself?"

"Mr. Pah doesn't talk much. He says the doctor doesn't like it," the child murmured tiredly.

"The doctor?"

"The doctor likes pointy things and the bad bed. Can't move on the bad bed. Hurts."

There was a soft gasp, a shudder before another sob ripped from his mouth.

Papyrus realized what it felt like to be stabbed in the soul.

"Well," he said meekly, "the doctor isn't here. Just you, me, and Mr. Pah."

After his statement, Little Bones' sniffling bubbled into uneasy breathes, then into wheezy, slow puffs.

With the child asleep, Papyrus checked over the play area, in case of Little Bones' fear caused magic attacks to appear.

He pretended the scorch marks weren't as bad as they seemed.

The morning hit Sans like a ton of bricks. Or, to be more accurate, a pile of bones.

One moment he was fast asleep. The next, his eyes were on Ink, who had collapsed on top of him. Paint ran down his bones and onto the bed.

"I'm not cleaning that up," Ink said.

Sans pushed him onto the floor with a grunt, "rude."

The two snickered softly.

After a few lazy sighs, trips, and struggled groans, both Sanses were finally downstairs. The sweet smell of pancakes filled the air like water filling a container. The change made Sans nearly freeze, but the pleasant surprise pulled him into the kitchen with a small smile.

"Morning, bro," Sans said with a pleased hum. Before him, Papyrus had Error on the counter. The taller skeleton was in his apron, as per usual, and he had, with grand gestures, explaining to the quiet, yet excited, child on how to make pancakes.

He turned on the balls of his feet upon hearing Sans, "Good morning, brother! Good morning, Inky-Not-Brother!"

Sans watched Error's face light up before climbing off the counter and rushing to Ink with a happy cry. Ink was smiling so wide, Sans thought his face would split in half.

"Hey buddy," The creator exclaimed before addressing the other two, "he wasn't any trouble, was he?"

"No, not at all! Little Bones was an utter delight!"

Ink's sockets widened, eyelights changing shape before settling on something vaguely fuzzy with a warm glow. He clasped his hands together, "thank you. It looks like he had fun."

Before much less could be said or done between the adults, Little Bones was determinedly marching away, gesturing wildly for the creator to follow him. And, really, with a smile like that, Ink just couldn't bring himself to refuse the order.

While the excited child showed off his toys and new clothes, Sans and Papyrus stayed in the kitchen.

Sans watched the cheerfulness melt from his brother's face, watched as fear and worry revealed themselves. The bitter sweetness of this very concept stabbed into Sans' chest and soul, sinking into his misery's newest flame. This look would be one that he'd never forget, no matter how many resets occurred.

"Little Bones worries me," Papyrus murmured, pulling the pan from the burner. The smell of pancakes still wafted after it, but it did little to improve the sudden sullen mood.

"What did he say?" Sans asked. He thought back to last night; the soft sobs and whimpers really the only thing he could hear. He saw the transaction, too, but nothing else had reached his 'ears' and his watchful gaze from the balcony.

Papyrus sighed lowly, "something about a doctor? He started crying when I asked?"

That feeling returned in his nonexistent stomach, curling sickeningly inside his bones.

"That's…" He trailed off, choking on a very-much-not-there lump in his throat, "that's definitely a, uh, thing…?"

The noise of their conversation died as Papyrus gathered plates. The brothers shared a wary look.

Bitterly, without a word, they both wondered what they'd learn about the skeleton that created despair. Bitterly, they wondered who would hurt a child to create such a monstrosity.

.

.

.

.

Magic throbbed and arched dangerously across the surface. The earth shuddered and groaned, cracking under the pressure of the pale, magical energy. Monsters and humans alike cried out in terror, some swallowed whole by the ground's opening maw, some disappearing into flames from collapsing houses, others running to escape the fate their would had seemingly planned for them.

But you can't stop the inevitable, can you?

More magic poured like lava from the cracks. Within mere minutes, the burning flow finished off the rest of the creatures. Not long after, the entirety of the world was pure white.

With a flash, it disappeared.

A ripple echoed emptily into the multiverse.