You know what happened the second you wake up.

No- no you… know the physical act happened. That's what you know happened.

The familiar ache. The feeling in your gut. Your eyes hurt and you know they're probably red. Your naked. The room is unfamiliar. You want to curl in on yourself and shrivel into dirt.

You know what happened.

With who, where, why, when and how long ago, how. None of that you know, yet.

Youjust know the what.

You know what happened.

The where takes a little bit of time.

The room smells familiar. Its warm in here. It smells like cedar. A little like grease. It smells like your friend, and it smells like the only place outside your own apartment that you ever Wanted to be. It smells like Grillby, and it smells like solar's. the rooms dark but for light streaming in a single small window. theres a black blanket over you, a single-person-sized mattress on the ground under you. few belongings, most of which are just changes of clohes in an open nook of a closet. Mostly formal.

You figure out the where slowly- slow only because you've never been in here, and because the What is just echoing in your head, taking up most of the space.

You sit up, blanket slipping down and piling in your lap. Your bare skin is cold. Achingly cold. Theres no bit of warmth in your body, even if the room is warm. You notice a small pile of clothes on the right, settled next to the bed. Those are yours. Folded, and clean. You can recognize that theyre warm, warm like fresh from a dryer. You cant feel that fact.

Slow and numbyouput on your hoodie, skipping bra, skipping shirt. you put on your sweatpants, and socks, and skip everything else. you pick up the stack of what's left, and try to stand. You have to try three times until your legs, trembling, carry you up to your feet unsteadily.

You walk toward the open door leading out of the room.

The owner of the room- no, the man who doesn't own anything but Lives here- is sitting at table. He glows in the dim room. the only source of light is him and another window, a little bigger than the one in the bedroom. His face is rested in his hands.

You can't gleam any sort of expression off him. you ant focus on anything. It may be the hang over, it may be the cold knowing from your body into your mind.

The best you can discern is 'upset' in his raspy voice when he speaks. "…I couldn't find your… shoes."

Your toes wiggle in your socks subconsciously. "…I didn't have any."

He just… nods. You see from… from a certain way the outlining flame of his jaw and neck shift, sort of like grinding someones teeth, that he tries to say something else. your mostly mute companion, maybe friend, cant manage.

You start to walk toward the stairs. Memory unclear. Unsure what you'll do. Where you'll go. You should be at work by now.

Before you get there, his voice- rasp and raw- says hes sorry.

"was it you?" you cant remember. Just a vague man in a suit. Orange.

He shakes his head no- you aren't looking, but you hear the swish of the flames, and you already know the answer anyway. You cant remember, but you know its not him.

"then don't be sorry."

You start down the stairs.

Solars is locked, so you unlock the door, and step out. Your feet, already cold, feel nothing as you walk through the trodden sidewalk snow. They're like rocks, already cold.

Tears start rushing down your face at some point as you walk, and they don't stop. Not as your ice cold, trembling legs automatically take you to the apartments, not up the elevator, not as you walk toward and unlock your own door.

It creeks open and closes behind you. you don't bother locking it.

Something envelopes your person and your heavy feet leave the ground. After a little while you can actually tune in and hear Papyrus is yealling in delight and relief in your ear.

He still holds you as he runs in from the walkway and into the living room, yelling Sans name.

None of its registering. Not the way Sans stares where he must've stood from the couch. Not the way Undyne's come in from the hallway at all the yelling. Not your boss- BIG boss, Koyol, sitting on the couch.

None of it makes sense to you and you don't take it.

Sans is battering at Papyrus to put you down but as gently as he rests you on your feet, your knees don't hold you and you hit the ground so hard but don't feel.

You mildly note Undyne has vanished again and that's good- Koyol shouldn't see her here, that's bad. That's the only thing you seem to register so far.

Papyrus picking up your clothes from beside you is the next thing register, alongside a little exclamation about something in regards to an apology for seeing your underwear.

The tears still stream your face and have never stopped and you register your boss looks completely expressionless and hasn't moved since you came in.

The next thing that clocks is Sans. He's sitting in front of you and he's asking, slowly, overly enunciated, where you've been. What happened. Where did you go when you left, where have you been, what happened?

Your barely functioning at a mental level, so without thinking, you start to tell him obediently.

You worked all night, blowing strangers through a hole in the wall. You went to work. You were going home and stopped to get dinner. You drank until you woke up upstairs from solars and you don't remember who took you up to bed.

Barely functioning anymore, you ask your father sitting in front of you if he'll let you go to sleep now? Your stomach hurts too much to do anymore tonight, please.

You fall asleep before getting answered, and hope he won't be mad in the morning.