Summary: Dream's not a morning person.
A short, round-skulled skeleton laid atop a fluffy mattress held by a simple wooden bed frame; eye sockets closed, jaws half-open, yellow sheets kicked to the floor, blue and yellow-starred pajamas wrinkled, and arms curled around the pillow nestled against his chest. All the while, soft snores escaped him as he slept.
The monster looked like any other Sans to most people when in this vulnerable state. However, his few close friends (and brother) knew that this was how Dream, the Guardian of Positivity, appeared during slumber. Peaceful, undisturbed by the (needy) residents of the Multiverse.
On the nightstand adjacent to his resting place sat three items: a plain desk lamp, a touchscreen cellphone adorned with a yellow case, and a digital clock that read "5:30 a.m." Once the clock struck "5:35 a.m.", a loud jingle began to play while the nearby cellphone's screen lit up with a familiar set of red/green buttons and a phone number. Thus, causing the sleeping skeleton to stir unhappily from his dreams.
"Ugh." Dream groaned, eye sockets squeezing further shut and a frown tugging at the corners of his teeth. A hand slowly released its fluffy captive to thump around on the nightstand in search of ear-grating noise's cause.
The appendage struck empty space several times before he finally cracked his eyes open and used his dull yellow eyelights to survey the surroundings. Shadows encompassed his bedroom, only the tiniest hint of sunlight filtered through the light blue curtains covering the left wall's two windows- making it relatively easy to locate the blinding, bright light found at the ringtone's source.
His phalanges captured the infernal device, promptly drawing it closer to his face. Eye sockets narrowing when its unholy luminescence shone directly in his eyelights. While reading (and rereading) the text, it took his sleep-addled mind an embarrassingly long time to connect the numbers displayed to a name.
Blue?
Dream thought after glancing toward the clock, Why is he calling so early in the morning?
Then his mind graciously reminded him it was around noon in Underswap, spawning the irritated question, Who believed it was a good idea for alternate universes to have different time zones? It wouldn't have killed the Creators to leave them all the same.
The continuation of a harsh rhythmic chime broke through his inner grievances, leaving him cringing.
Why had he picked that ringtone? It hardly seemed logical to be forced to listen to its horrid trills each and every time his blue-clad friend called. Not to mention, annoying when half-asleep and wishing to return to the dream realm he had previously occupied. A world spawned by his imagination that held a wondrous fantasy where he and Nightmare were on speaking terms, coexisting like their mother initially intended. Plus, enjoying a picnic on a beautiful grassy knoll surrounded by tall, majestic oak trees sat beneath a sky brimming with life; galaxies, moons, stars, and enough hues of purple and blue to make Outertale jealous.
It was great- until the dark lord stole his cookie and licked the apple pie they were supposed to share. The apple pie Dream slaved over in his imaginary home's kitchen as well as wished to taste, hoping to see the fruits of his labor. But no, Nightmare had to be greedy and take it all for himself.
Even in his sleepy haze, the anger the Guardian of Positivity felt from his faux brother's actions persisted strongly.
A huff brushed past his jaws. Color-muted eyelights flitted between the cellphone and the warm, inviting pillow that tempted him to lay his head to rest. And oh, how he wished to do just that- return to a slumbrous state where his irrational anger could fade away into the vast stretches of his mind.
Alas, the call could not wait. Blue knew better than to interrupt Dream's sleep this early in the morning, meaning the Underswap Sans had to have a good reason for disturbing him.
(If he didn't, stars save him from the passive-aggressive comments Dream would subject him to for the next seven days.)
He gave a mournful sign and pressed the "accept call" button, groggily groaning, "...What?"
"Oh, thank the stars," cried the distressed voice of his usually bubbly friend. The tone grew even more frantic with the following words. "Dream, I need your help! Ink got bored again and created- well, it is best, or worst in this case, seen in person. It's loose in my house, and I-I don't think I can catch it on my own. Normally, I would ask my brother for assistance, but he is too busy right now. As for Ink, he's currently laughing on my kitchen floor and in no mood to assist."
Of course. Ink, Dream's mind hissed. The last four days have been perfectly uneventful, and then he goes and does this.
Why can't he entertain himself with a book or TV show like a regular person?
"Alright. I'll be there as soon as possible." The Guardian of Positivity muttered (in barely contained annoyance), earning a relieved "Thank you!" from Blue before he ended the call.
Afterward, Dream thoughtlessly tossed his cellphone on the nightstand- not showing an ounce of care when it teetered dangerously close to the edge, threatening to fall off. He then rolled onto his back in a swift motion and blinked up at the ceiling. A second sigh brushed past his down-turned teeth. Lidded eye sockets fluttering as he laid in bed, desperately fighting the urge to close his eye sockets and forsake his friend to whatever creature Ink had unleashed upon his home.
Unfortunately, the pajama-clad skeleton's morality - the accursed angel on his shoulder - told him that "Good friends do not abandon each other." and "Helping Blue is what a good friend would do." Plus, a quieter and unenthused, "No matter how much you currently want to throw Ink at the problem and tell him to deal with it, you can't. You know he would only make it worse."
So, mustering a meager amount of energy, Dream forced himself out of bed and trudged to the light switch. The room lit up with a single flick. Consequently, revealing everything from his sparsely filled bookshelves to the laundry basket pushed in a corner against the wall. His eyelights wandered the illuminated space until they landed on a light oak dresser.
Scowling at the furnishing, he made the short journey over and clumsily pulled a copy of his traditional outfit from the many others folded inside. Soon shedding his bedwear and donning his iconic, sunshiny uniform: a light blue tunic, grey-blue trousers, yellow cape, and golden circlet with a sun etched into the front. Which he nearly neglected to place upon his skull prior to approaching his open bedroom door.
He paused in the doorway, double-checking for anything he may have forgotten. Absently clenching and unclenching his hands while going down his mental checklist before realizing something was missing, prompting him to look down at them.
...My gloves.
His head turned in the direction of his desk on the opposite side of the room. On its polished wooden surface laid the missing clothing articles he sought. Dim yellow eyelights examined the gap separating him and the gloves- the distance being two feet more than he was willing to walk for a measly accessory.
Hmm. No, I'll make do without them.
Dream's skull turned back toward the hall beyond his doorway. He trod the dark, narrow space after taking the briefest moment to turn off the bedroom light. While passing through to the living room, he waved a middle finger in the direction of a hanging picture containing him, Blue, and Ink standing in front of a beach with smiles on their faces. Then proceeded to walk by his fluffy blue sofa and into the kitchen.
The room where his revered coffee maker awaited.
Relief flooded his soul as he crossed the threshold that divided the cooking area from the rest of the house, and his eyelights instantly went on the lookout for the device. They flitted from countertop to countertop, momentarily landing on the stray beams of light peeking through the curtains hanging above the sink. Chirps and chitters made by the early-rising wildlife sounded in the dusky world beyond. Each distinct animal cry joined together to create a cheery, upbeat song.
Not that that did anything to alleviate his morning grouchiness.
The yellow-clad skeleton would need four cups of coffee or three extra hours of sleep for him to become his usual chipper self. Something he needed to be. After all, the last thing he wanted was to frighten someone accidentally. Aside from Nightmare, Ink and Blue were the only other monsters to hold the knowledge of his less than stellar morning attitude. And appearance.
Or, in the words of Ink sometime prior to shoving coffee at him, "Woah, Dream! If you go into Underfell looking like that, someone is going to think you're going to murder them, their family, pet, and houseplants."
His frown quirked up a fraction at the memory, and as his gaze moved away from the curtains, he spotted a medium black/silver object resting by the sink: the coffee maker, the only machine in his house that could produce the nectar of the gods. (And, no. Despite Ink's whining, he and Reaper did not occasionally get together for coffee dates every Friday. Dream did not have the death god's favorite coffee order - a triple espresso topped with whipped cream and cinnamon - memorize by heart either.)
The Guardian of Positivity wasted no time before approaching it. A hand swiftly pressing the "on" button while the other reached up, opening the above cabinet to retrieve his beloved, apple pie-flavored coffee grounds and a cup. His phalanges randomly grasped the nearest one, a novelty mug that said "#1 Stabby Sunshine" across the front, and deposited it beneath the machine's spigot. Next, he took a quick look at the attached water reservoir. It had at least a cup's worth of water left from the previous day, leading him to channel his inner laziness and forgo fetching more. Then he shoved the ground coffee into the nearest filter; Soon plopping it in, pressing the "start" button, and waiting in anticipation.
The water gradually began to boil and bubble. Steam hissed, exiting via a small vent on the machine's backside. Shortly after, heated liquid worked its way through the device, passing the loaded coffee filter and trickling out the tap. Thus, slowly filling his mug with piping hot caffeinated wonder. A rich, light brown substance that held promises of not only a delicious, apple-y taste but a slightly more wakeful morning too.
Its incredible cinnamon-apple scent wafted in the air, tempting the yellow-clad skeleton to abandon his cup and drink straight from the tap. But he refrained himself. He would not stoop to such lows.
Yet.
However, once the coffee maker fell silent, Dream greedily snatched the mug from its resting place. Hands pressed against the burning ceramic surface, drawing it to his teeth. He took a deep sip without so much as flinching as the scolding hot liquid poured down his invisible throat. It caused a light tingle to course through his body as his magic absorbed the beverage, adding a well-needed boost to his mood and energy supply.
His lackluster eyelights sparked with reenergized magic and returned to their vibrant golden-yellow color after a few moments, giving them an almost cheery appearance. (Though, the same could not be said for his face. For it maintained his signature early-morning scowl; lessened yet still prominent.)
A low hum escaped his jaws.
How can anyone live without coffee, he wondered. It's the perfect thing to drink before starting the day.
And the Guardian of Positivity was hardly the only monster who felt that way. The one thing he and Reaper could always agree on was that the beverage was a gift from the gods. Sometimes literally in the raven-winged skeleton's case since his Papyrus, a God of Death, often gifted him the substance if only to prevent him sleeping on the job.
A light yellow blush spread across Dream's skull at the thought of his fellow coffee-lover. Meanwhile, he glanced toward the plain calendar hanging on the wall. The upcoming Friday listed had a little inverted heart doodled in the corner of its square.
I'm going to need to check if our date is still on for tomorrow- Need to know whether or not I'll be clearing my schedule and making reservations for that neat cafe I found.
I really hope Reaper likes cats.
The yellow-clad skeleton felt nervous excitement stir in his soul but was left sighing when he finished the last drops of his beloved coffee. He stared dejectedly into the empty mug's hollow depths. Exhaustion nagged at his being despite the caffeine he'd already provided. It screeched, demanding further sacrifices to complete his morning ritual of waking up. A ritual that conflicted with his and Blue's prior conversation- i.e., the conversation where Dream foolishly accepted to help the other in clearing whatever chaos Ink summoned to torment his home. (Which consequently deprived him of desperately needed rest.)
Not to mention, he assured his fellow Star Sans aid would arrive soon.
"Soon" being another minute or two. Possible even more.
Or less.
The true answer depended on how much time had passed since the aforementioned conversation. But perhaps there was still enough time to brew two - or, more accurately, four - more cups of coffee? He turned his head to the side, eyelights flicking toward the microwave's clock and catching the time displayed: "5:55 a.m."
The number bred panic in his soul.
Eye sockets widening, Dream promptly placed his mug in the nearby half of the sink while his thoughts raced.
Twenty minutes have passed? Already?
How did all that time pass? Did I lie in bed longer than I thought? How much time does this leave me to get ready to travel to Underswap? Do I have enough time to make another cup of coffee?
The abandoned mug received a sorrowful look.
No, postponing any longer will only make me far later than promised.
His feet then hastily carried him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he proceeded to grab his golden boots from beside the front door, quickly adding them to his ensemble. A hand gestured to the side afterward, making a small tab that displayed the items in his inventory appear.
The Guardian of Positivity scanned the contents with about as much intensity as his tired mind could muster. All the while, pondering, Do I have everything I need?
Minus his gloves and cellphone, yes. He couldn't imagine needing anything beyond the few monster candies stuffed in there and his housekeys. (As well as a few more cups of coffee. But, alas, time seemed to be working against him.)
The only question that remained was: Which method of transportation should he use to reach his friend? Preferably as quickly as possible.
For a more scenic experience, usually traveling through the Doodlesphere or Omega Timeline was the way to go- unfortunately, those routes were far longer and easier to get lost on (because Ink couldn't go two days without change things around). And since the yellow-clad skeleton wouldn't dare to attempt to use one of those machines other Sanses insisted on traveling with, that left him a single option: teleportation.
An exasperated puff of air wiggled its way past his teeth.
While far from the worst option, teleportation still had some flaws. Blue's distressed emotional state made it difficult to key on to his location, making it harder to teleport directly to him. So, Dream needed to do it the old-fashioned way- AKA, think very hard about the place he wanted to go to and open a rift through the Void leading there. Which was easier said than done. That form of teleportation proved a little more challenging for him to perform. Despite how navigating the inky black depths seemed almost like second nature to most Sanses.
Nevertheless, he silenced his internal complaints and focused, allowing his eye sockets to fall shut.
His mind called to memory the Underswap skeleton brothers' house, the omnipresent scent of tacos (and the undertone of burnt spaghetti from whenever Stretch got brave enough to practice his cooking skills), and an image of Blue standing in front of the doorway, waving at him. Those thoughts seemed to be enough to spark the guardian's teleportation magic.
Sunny-colored energy crackled around him; he could feel the chilling air of the void lick across his bones and the many invisible eyes- all of which shortly vanished. Replacing them was the more tolerable coldness found in the frosty zone of the Underground (Snowdin) and a sensation of pure, undisturbed solitude.