Many-worlds- that is, parallel worlds- were supposed to only be a theory, written in an article that someone threw into the garbage. An article that was one day found by Sans, read from page to page while he was with other people that left a hole in his memory. They weren't supposed to actually come over and drag him into completely new surroundings without a chance for escape. That wasn't what the article suggested at all.

As Sans studied the broken machine in front of him, he considered that he had colossally underestimated... himself, apparently. According to the note, this machine had been working up until just now. Some of the metal that he touched experimentally was still warm, lending credence to this idea. But it certainly wasn't going to work anymore, not unless he could fix it. Even as he thought that, Sans remembered that he had hardly been able to make his own machine work back at home, so what hope was there for him to fix it here?

No, thinking way wasn't going to do anything for him. Sans couldn't help but keep looking at the note in his hands as he rolled the tape into a tiny ball and tossed it away. This other him... what kind of person was he? What kind of place was this? The answer to both these questions didn't look very good. Before he could help himself, he might as well try to get his bearings in this new universe. It was better than standing in this shed and starting to panic, after all, as someone else in his situation might have done.

Just as the "note Sans" had promised, after a little bit of searching Sans found a dark jacket and sneakers folded up in the corner, almost hidden because of the dim lighting of his surroundings. He didn't have his hoodie or slippers anymore, so he might as well put them on even if he wasn't sure yet if it was a good idea for him to impersonate this other version of himself.

The sneakers were easy, the laces untied; on his feet, they would stay untied, whether that was how the other version of him did it or not. The jacket, which was an overall black but red and gold in areas, felt a little stranger. The hood had a fur lining it, something that he wasn't used to, and it itched a bit. He was also way too tired of this already to try and work the zipper, so for now his undershirt remained in view.

The coat smelled like rotting meat for some reason... Putting his hands into the pockets, he found that there was an old, uncooked hot cat in it which this version of him must have forgotten about. With a disgusted face, he tossed it out into one of the other forgotten corners.

Well, as far as he knew, he looked the part. He also thought he must look pretty dumb. More like a teenager than his actual age... which he also couldn't quite recall. Oh, well, what was he to judge somebody's clothing choices? No, he was judging more the fact that he had been kidnapped and left here by this jackass than the smelly furry coat. But there wasn't even time for that- the longer Sans stayed in the shed, the more at risk he felt in this world. He tried the knob, and it was unlocked, so he stepped outside at last.

What came to his attention immediately was that it was colder than it currently was at home. On the surface it was actually almost summer, making the blustery wind and snow that assaulted him now stick out a lot. Luckily, as a skeleton, the cold wasn't a huge problem for Sans, but even so he was glad that he had the jacket. In fact, it almost felt worse than living in the eternally wintry Snowdin- at least there, he didn't feel that he was freezing to death as he suddenly did now. Now, Sans actually found the will to zip this thing up.

As expected, he walked out with his back to the actual house. It was an easy matter to walk around it to find the front. When he did, he couldn't help but notice something that made his marrow freeze in his bones.

He was standing in Snowdin.

Or, rather, he was standing in a version of it. He didn't remember the small town that he once lived in as looking quite so trodden down and pathetic. The buildings that were within range of his vision were all crumbling in some manner or another, and there was absolutely nobody traversing the broken path through the town, a path that was covered in dusty snow. Far above, he could see the ceiling. The way he used to before he knew what the sky looked like. Somehow, even the ceiling looked harsher than it was in his world. Was this what he'd been trying to escape? The other him? Was he so desperate to get to the surface that he took his place?

Somehow that didn't seem right. Even Sans had stopped caring about the surface for a while, although it had been coming to him in pieces over the few weeks of freedom that he'd had, as more and more time passed without it disappearing. Now, looking at the ceiling, he could feel that draining despair come back to him again. He was back underground. It wasn't even in the way that he thought it would be. He had thought it would be as simple as losing his memories, but this was ten times worse.

Hell, Snowdin itself looked ten times worse. It was clearly in the afternoon, judging by the lighting down here, so where was everyone?

Sans cringed to think about what the rest of this place must be like, all while having the unpleasant feeling that he was going to find out sooner than he wanted. This definitely wasn't good. He needed to get to that list.

Looking up at his house, which was the most immaculate building there- although that wasn't saying much- Sans held his breath and stepped inside.

Well the indoors were also immaculate, and aside from the layout of the house it was almost completely unfamiliar to him. There was no carpet, everything hardwood floor like the shed had been, and the interior had none of the goofy, somewhat warm colors that he and Papyrus had picked out together. Seeing this, and remembering the warning on the note, he looked warily for this version of his brother and found nothing so far. Of course, Sans didn't know what the Papyrus he was looking for would actually be like. He dearly hoped he was not as much of an asshole as the other version of himself apparently was. He also hoped that his room was on the same side as the one in his world, and that the other version of himself had had the decency to leave it unlocked for him, or else he would have to play things completely by ear and he honestly hated the energy he had to put into that.

Here went nothing; Sans tried the door. It was unlocked.

"His" room was the only one that wasn't clean and in order, and Sans sighed in some relief to see that some things didn't change. There was no tornado, and the treadmill that Papyrus had bought him for his birthday wasn't here either, but there was still the mattress, all blankets and one pillow tossed to the floor, and socks piled up in odd places. A dirty lamp flickered when he turned the lights on, and that was the only other thing in the room aside from the drawers.

Speaking of, above those drawers he found another piece of notepaper taped to the wall. Sans tore it free and, already in a bad mood to see this handwriting, perused the list in front of him.

list of things to know in the underground if you want to live:

- papyrus goes by "boss." do not call him papyrus. do not call him bro. DO NOT call him anything except boss.

- watch out for papyrus

- watch out for everybody. it's kill or be killed here.

- that crazy lady by the door is alright but if she leaves food outside for you don't take it.

- i don't drink ketchup you loser.

- don't let papyrus catch you skipping out or sleeping on sentry duty

- keep your room locked whenever possible.

- i fixed your mug to look like mine but the magic wears off. hope you know how to do that yourself.

- take care of the human kid

that's all i can think of right now. good luck,

Sans.

Everything else Sans took in relative stride, aside from his appearance changing; he reached up a hand to check his face and found sharp teeth where his normal smile once was, and was horrified. He didn't know how to do that. But there was something on the list that distracted him from even this. Take care of the human kid. So, even though they weren't free yet in this world, there was still a Frisk. Or, to be honest, it could have been one of the earlier human children too, but in his world all of the earlier ones had already fallen down by the time he and Papyrus moved to Snowdin. And there was only one that he actually took care of. So it was unlikely to be referring to anyone else.

What was the parallel world Frisk like?

Just thinking about that, another question rose in his head that was far more unpleasant: What was happening with the Frisk in his world right now? Or, rather, anyone that he knew. Even Papyrus. They all were with that impostor, while he was still figuring out the basics over in this place-and as bad as the basics looked from this list, it was much worse to think about what was happening to the others.

It made him feel exhausted, very exhausted. He closed his eyes and sighed.

But he only had a minute to think about this before something else took his mind off it, the sound of a door slamming outside his room. Sans jerked to attention, knowing without seeing him that it was this world's Papyrus. Shit.

"SANS!" At the very least it sounded a lot like him, the same font and the same loud voice. But there wasn't that theatrical affectation that he had gotten used to Papyrus making since he'd begun his "royal guard training". This voice was shrill and sounded like he had a sore throat. It made sense. Shouting constantly would do that to you.

Sans lingered for a while, trying to decide if he should get out of his room or not. But Papyrus' voice made the decision for him. "SANS YOU PIECE OF SHIT I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TRACK MUD ALL OVER THE FLOOR!"

Oops. Papyrus back at home was always telling him that they had a welcome mat for a reason, although he didn't track so much mud anymore now that they were living in New New Home.

Taking a deep breath, Sans exited his room, calling, "heya, sorry about that." Laying eyes upon this world's Papyrus, Sans was both shocked and not surprised at all. For one thing, although he was still wearing a "battle body" like the one in his world it was very clearly not just a costume, but the outfit of someone who was actually in charge of something, complete with a badge or two. That surprised him a little. But predictably, it also had the same dark color scheme as the coat Sans was wearing, with a glisten of metal underneath the black material and torn red cape. It was clearly supposed to look intimidating, but Sans fought the urge to laugh.

He would just love it if it turned out that everybody in this world dressed the same, in blacks and reds and golds. Like some kind of dress code.

Papyrus didn't look like he'd appreciate his older brother laughing, though, at least from what Sans could see from the second floor. "YOU'RE SORRY? IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT IT? THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE!"

"look, br-" he caught himself just in time, "-oss." Papyrus' eyebrow rose, but he didn't comment. "i've had a long day. it was an accident, okay?"

But the other was far from willing to let this go. "I HAVE TOLD YOU TIME AND AGAIN NOT TO TRACK MUD IN HERE! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO SPEND TIME CLEANING UP AFTER YOU? DO YOU THINK I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO!?"

He was a bit gruffer, in fact a lot, but so far the shouting he could handle. His own Papyrus nagged him all the time. Sans' expression didn't change much. Out of his mouth came, as he shrugged tiredly and leaned over the railing, "i dunno do ya?"

The look, then, on this Papyrus' face was astonishing. The absolute rage, which was even more effective on someone with sharp teeth, was something that Sans had never seen before. Suddenly he felt cold in the pit of his not-stomach. Even worse than that, the shouting stopped. Papyrus just stood there for a second, before saying in a voice that was possibly even louder than before, "GET DOWN HERE, SANS."

"...nnnnah i'm gonna stay up here." Clearly he had crossed a line somehow. And, clearly, judging by how the rage on Papyrus' face grew, this was also crossing a second line painted somewhere beyond the first. Oh, well, he always had a penchant for getting on his brother's nerves.

"I SAID-" Something gripped at the core of Sans' SOUL, as Papyrus slashed a claw-like hand in an arc through the air, "TO GET DOWN HERE!" His SOUL turning blue and body with the weight of an anvil, Sans let out a startled cry as he crashed through the railing and down to the ground floor of the house with a loud crack, lying in a heap while broken bits of wood rained on top of him.

"what the hell?" He couldn't keep from saying that out loud.

His head was starting to ache again, as he looked back up at his brother with eyes like needlepoints. He struggled to get up, but found his body still pulled by the intense gravity of Papyrus's blue attack. Being banged up like that was something that could lower his health, so never in his life had he ever thought Papyrus- any Papyrus- would try it. And even more shocking was that he apparently wasn't done.

In fact, he had a large bone in his hand, which he was holding like a club. "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU THINK TODAY IS THE DAY TO PUSH YOUR LUCK, SANS," he was saying, watching the smaller skeleton struggle vainly to stand up. He seemed only vaguely puzzled by the shock and anger on Sans' face, as his subordinate should be well used to this routine by now, "BUT IT LOOKS LIKE I HAVE TO EDUCATE YOU ALL OVER AGAIN. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY. IF HAVING TO CLEAN UP YOUR FILTH MAKES ME LATE TO MY MEETING WITH UNDYNE, THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES."

"why the hell," Sans muttered into the floor, giving up trying to move. "are you getting so worked up over cooking lessons?" He knew it was a stupid question-maybe the meeting was actually important-but he didn't care. The minute the blue attack wore off, he was going to-

CRACK!

Sans' vision exploded with white as bone met bone, his head banging into the floor when struck by the end of Papyrus' club. All thoughts vanished from his mind except for how painful it was, his head ringing. Through the ringing, he could hear Papyrus say, "-ALL THE WORK THAT I'VE DONE FOR BOTH OF US, WHEN YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT LAZE AROUND DAY IN AND DAY OUT, AFTER ALL THE EFFORT I'VE PUT IN TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD YOU WOULD DARE MOCK ME LIKE THIS WHEN I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF PUNISHING YOU!"

"..ow..." Sans grunted, rubbing his head. He then felt himself lifting by the back of his jacket, Papyrus pulling him off the ground. He still felt the pull of the blue attack, dangling uselessly, and could only listen to his parallel world brother continue to shout at him. It wasn't helping the ringing in his ears. "I BET YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO YOUR SENTRY DUTY TODAY! YOU JUST SLACKED OFF LIKE THE USELESS LITTLE SHIT THAT YOU ARE!"

He was in pain, but he was not scared. Sans uttered, "y.. yep."

And then the whole house spun before his eyes as his body banged against the wall on the opposite side of the downstairs. He fell and hit a table, where a badly placed rock jabbed into his ribs, before he rolled and struck the floor with a groan. Now something like that really could have killed him. Yet he wasn't dead yet. This whole scenario was so... surreal. He could feel the pull on his SOUL loosening, at last, but he was too dizzy to stand now.

Papyrus was talking above him, after striking him hard in the back, as Sans gasped for air, "I COULD BREAK YOUR ARM THIS TIME BUT THAT WOULD MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO DO ANYTHING. YOU'VE LEFT ME IN A CONUNDRUM. AND I COULD BREAK YOUR BACK," he said, striking again. Sans only grunted, fighting blackness in his vision. "BUT YOU'RE ALREADY 'SPINELESS.'"

Holy crap was that a pun?

"I GUESS YOU'RE GETTING OFF EASY THIS TIME!" Papyrus finished, hitting Sans for a third time. "BE GRATEFUL THAT YOU HAVE SUCH A MERCIFUL AND AWESOME BROTHER AS ME!"

There was no reply from the figure lying on the ground, the smaller skeleton too preoccupied with staying conscious. Growling, Papyrus punched the wall and made the whole house shake. "I SAID BE GRATEFUL!"

Sans didn't reply to that either, still shaking from the attack. His health was still 1 HP, more or less. He wasn't dead. But he'd been hit so many times, he wondered if this was how monsters felt when they were.

Was this even Papyrus?

This couldn't be Papyrus. Not even a parallel version of Papyrus. Himself, he could accept that somewhere there was an asshole version of himself, but this pointy bully standing over him...

"SANS!" Papyrus whined before stomping on the ground like a child, then kicking the smaller skeleton in the ribs. Sans groaned; it was the same spot the rock had chipped. "ANSWER ME!"

Curling up on the floor, Sans looked up at Papyrus and grinned through the pain, through his wincing. "n-no." he grunted.

The response was completely unexpected, so said the expression on this cruel Papyrus' face, eye sockets open wide and glistening sharp teeth parted. But that soon turned into a rage so white-hot, Sans was sure that, whatever way this person was pulling his punches, it was about to stop. So before he could get hit again with that giant club, he took a shortcut out of there.


Author's Note: I should be clear here that I'm taking the headcanon I've seen that Papyrus knows how to beat up on Sans without dealing him HP damage- or at least, dealing it to him in percentages so it's closer to .1 HP than 1 HP attacks. Papyrus in regular Undertale is extremely precise with not killing you, so this one could be too but in a more awful way.

I'd also like to apologize to jpangel97 for their review being eaten up by FF somehow orz (It ate up another one too but I'm not as sorry since that one was rather spammy.)

Updates will now be going weekly, so look for the next chapter next Sunday 0o0/

Next Chapter: A Life Up Above