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For probably the hundredth time in the last hour, Papyrus glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was already nearly midnight and Sans was still sprawled on the couch watching television beside him. He never stayed awake this late. Why hadn’t he gone to bed? Or at least just, fallen asleep there. Papyrus felt his eyelids drooping from exhaustion, but going to sleep was the last thing he wanted to do. He had been getting even less sleep than usual for over a week now, and usually Sans would go upstairs early enough that Papyrus didn’t have to worry about making excuses for why he wasn’t in bed. Tonight was the first exception.
With a great level of willpower, he forced his eyes to stay open, shaking his head a bit with the effort.
“it’s pretty late, ya know,” Sans commented, side-eyeing his brother from his end of the couch.
This snapped Papyrus back into a somewhat less foggy state of mind and he blurted out a little too quickly, “Ah, going to bed then? Probably for the best. You look like you’re going to nod off any minute now.”
Papyrus caught the raised brow and disbelieving expression in his brother’s face. Sans turned to look at him more directly, propping his head on his fist, elbow on the armrest. “heh, yeah? that’s funny, ‘cuz i’m actually wide awake. can’t say the same for you though. why don’t you go to bed?”
Despite how sleepy he was, a stubborn edge flared within Papyrus. “Don’t be silly, Sans. I require far less sleep than what you seem to think is necessary. Besides, I’m not tired at all. I’m just…” he trailed off, shrugging to fill the gap in his explanation, “keeping you company before I start doing some cleaning.”
“bro...”
“I’ve found that the first hours of a new day are the best for chores, after all.“ He could tell Sans wasn’t buying it, and he was feeling nervous agitation beginning to form a ball within his chest. He looked away, sensing a confrontation.
“papyrus.”
He glanced across the couch and found that the traces of sarcastic humor that had been on Sans’ face were gone now, replaced with a rarely seen no-nonsense look.
“What?” Maybe he could still casually slide out of the discussion he could feel approaching.
“do you think i’m blind, or just stupid?”
Well that wasn’t a question he had expected. “What?” he repeated, voice laced with surprise and confusion.
Sans pushed himself up so he was sitting upright against the armrest, turned completely towards Papyrus, and switched off the television. “you think i haven’t noticed you checking the time every five seconds, waiting for me to go upstairs? or how you’ve been forcing yourself to stay awake for nearly an hour now? and don’t tell me you’re not tired, either.”
“Sans I don’t kn--” Papyrus didn’t get much of an interjection in before Sans stopped him with a raised hand.
“in fact, you’ve been doin’ this night after night for a while now. stayin’ up and actin’ like you’re not two blinks away from passin’ out on your feet. you must think i don’t see all this,” Sans pressed on, his voice calm but clouded with concern.
Papyrus was avoiding looking up at him, instead staring down at his own knees. He could feel his brother’s unwavering stare, though, and he anxiously clutched the edge of his pajama shirt in an effort to control his nerves. He didn’t want to talk about this. Everything Sans was saying was completely true, and Papyrus felt a little foolish for having hoped Sans was oblivious to how many nights had passed this way.
He was so tired. But more than he was tired, he was afraid.
“bro, i know you’re avoiding going to sleep.”
Papyrus tensed, arms instinctively wrapping around himself. He didn’t respond. He was so accustomed to just staying silent. Silence had always been the safest option. No lying, but no truth-telling either. Silence meant no one had to get hurt. No one but him.
Silence was safe, he told himself.
Papyrus felt a gentle nudge against his hip, and looked at his brother. Sans had one leg extended, his slippered foot pressing against him insistently to get his attention. A pleading look flashed across his face. “tell me why. what’s rattlin’ my little bro’s bones?”
Something about that look, or maybe it was the tone of Sans’ voice, suddenly made Papyrus feel a lump in his throat. Sheer exhaustion gave way to tears, and instinctively he jerked his head away again, a hand quickly flying up to cover his eyes as if he could hide this.
“I’m sorry....” he choked out, already trying to clear his throat and swallow down the sobs that were bubbling up from within him.
He felt Sans move, shifting on their couch to come closer. It only made him press his face harder into his own hand, hiding. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeated with more earnest. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t burden Sans with anymore of what this whole mess had left him to deal with.
“hey, hey, bro it’s all right.” came Sans’ voice, the worry and alarm plain as day in his tone. Papyrus felt an arm slide easily around his shoulders, pulling him into a protective half-embrace.
A minute or two passed in silence except for Papyrus’ attempts at stifling his breakdown.
“...you’re havin’ nightmares. am i right?” Sans voice was low, barely a murmur, and it made Papyrus feel like a small child again. Normally he absolutely hated when Sans made him feel childish, but right now he couldn’t ignore how badly he just wanted to feel safe again, and this was so similar to when Sans would calm him after a bad dream when he was still very little.
Papyrus kept his face covered, breath hitching over his tiny sobs, and nodded. He felt Sans’ hand rub in a soothing motion across his shoulder.
“yeah, i figured.” He sounded contemplative, and paused. “will you tell me about ‘em?”
Papyrus shook his head immediately. He didn’t want to think about the dreams. He didn’t want to try to vocalize what happened every night. He was too scared, and the fear overwhelmed him so easily, he knew he would fall apart.
“hey now,” Sans still spoke in a low and comforting voice. “we’ve talked about this. you don’t have to keep stuff from me. i can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”
That made Papyrus hesitate. He had been trying to deal with everything alone from the beginning. First it was out of necessity to keep Flowey from hurting anyone else, but even after everything went back to normal, all those walls he’d built around himself remained in place. The way he saw it, this wasn’t anyone else’s problem.
But he was so tired.
“They’re bad…” he finally said, his voice very quiet and muffled against Sans’ chest. It was almost like an apology, or maybe a warning so that Sans could have an out if he decided to second guess how he was about to spend his night.
“trust me, bro, i know all about bad dreams. you can tell me,” he kept idly rubbing Papyrus’ shoulder in that comforting way, and Papyrus took several deep breaths.
“It’s usually the same.. for the most part. He’s always there. And so are you, most of the time.” Papyrus stopped and gently pushed himself upright again, leaning to prop his elbows on his knees. He struggled to put his thoughts into words.
“Sometimes I’m just stuck fighting. It goes on forever, and I’m constantly falling, or tripping over vines, and I can’t get my magic to work right. I’m too exhausted to defend myself and I can’t seem to ever reach the end. And Flowey is just laughing, and won’t let me stop, and keeps mocking me or making threats, and that voice…” he cringed instinctively, his hands reaching up to the sides of his skull where ears would be, as if to shield from the memory of that terrifying sound.
He felt tears welling at the corners of his eyes, and he kept his hands up for the semblance of protection he felt they provided. His words didn’t stop for more than a few moments.
“Those are… usually the better ones. Sometimes Flowey is angry. Because sometimes he was angry. And in my dreams, sometimes I don’t know what I did to make him angry, but it doesn’t matter because it never mattered if I knew, or if I was sorry because I did something wrong or said something wrong--” his words were starting to spill from him faster and faster now. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and tears escaped him. “And I try to talk to him, but I’m always stuck or I can’t speak or I’m just too afraid to try. Sometimes I can’t move because he’s caught me in his vines, and I can’t breathe, and there’s vines around my neck and in my mouth.” he subconsciously lowered a shaking hand to his neck, like he needed to make sure there was nothing there right now. His breathing was faster and more shallow.
“papyrus…” came the small, gentle voice beside him, and Papyrus felt Sans put his hand on his back.
Papyrus shook his head, covering his face with both of his hands. “But those still aren’t even the worst ones!” he sounded miserable, and a harsh sob accompanies his words, his shoulders trembling.
“Sometimes you’re there. And he’ll ask me something or tell me to do something and I’ll mess up somehow. Sometimes I try to say what I just know he wants to hear, just to try to keep things from getting worse, but then I end up saying totally different words than I meant to. Like I can’t control it. The worst possible things I could say just get blurted out, and then he gets so angry, and,” his voice shook, another sob interrupting him, but he still didn’t stop. For all the reservations he’d had in telling Sans about the nightmares, now that the floodgates had been opened, he couldn’t slow it down. This was exactly what he knew would happen, too.
More sobs punctuated his voice as he continued, feeling his mind and body shrouded in fear as if speaking the words would somehow make them true. “And then he gets you. And he tells me what’s happening is my fault, that I’m an idiot, that I should have known better. And it’s exactly what I was always trying to prevent, Sans, it’s what I was always so scared of. And then it’s happening and every time it’s always because I did something wrong and it’s always my fault. And he hurts you, or kills you, or both. And I can never, ever stop it from happening once it starts. I always know, as soon as you show up in the dream, I know I’ve already messed up too much and it’s too late. And nothing I do or say changes it…”
His words tapered off, and he buried his face in his palms again, crying despite his weak efforts to stop. “I’m scared in the dreams, and I’m scared when I’m awake because I don’t want to go to sleep and do it all again. I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to see his face, but it’s like he’s there now, just waiting for me in my head and it always feels so real.”
Sans had remained mostly silent through all of it, but after a long moment, he made an odd noise, as if clearing his throat or coughing.
Papyrus turned his head to peek at him around his own hand and was surprised to see his brother with streaks of fallen tears marking his face, and the back of his free hand was pressed tightly against his mouth. His eyes held a mixture of pain and fury in them that caught Papyrus by surprise. It made him sit back a bit, sniffling and rubbing at his own eyes with his sleeve.
“Sans, are --”
He was cut off as Sans leaned forward and pulled him into a crushing hug, arms wrapping tightly around him. “i’m sorry, bro. i’m so sorry…” his voice came out in a harsh, choked whisper.
Papyrus wrapped his arms around his brother as well, clutching onto the back of his shirt.
“you shouldn’t have had to deal with that all by yourself.” Sans voice was louder now, and it was tight with anger. “that fucking freak had no business coming into your life and doing this, and now you can’t even get a decent night’s sleep.”
Hearing his brother so distraught on his behalf made Papyrus hug him a bit tighter, shaking his heads. “I’m sorry, Sans. I shouldn’t have told you. I didn’t want to, I knew it would just--”
“no. no, bro, i wanted you to. and i’m glad you did. really.” Sans drew a shaky breath and pulled back so he could look him in the eye. Papyrus practically watched Sans take his own emotional turmoil and stuff it deep down inside himself. No one should be able to do that so easily. Papyrus was smart enough to know that skill took practice. How much was there that Sans had buried inside that Papyrus still didn’t know anything about?
“and you know what?” Sans continued, reaching up to wipe the remnants of his tears away.
“What?” Papyrus mirrored him, using his sleeve again to dry his own face.
“you can beat these bad dreams. that’s what. and i know you can do it.”
Papyrus did not look even remotely like he agreed. “I can’t, Sans… I can’t make them stop…”
“maybe not. at least not for now. but you told me that whenever i pop up in your dream, you already know it’s gonna turn bad, right? sounds like you usually know you’re in a dream,” he ended in a questioning tone.
Papyrus shrugged. What good did it do anyway, even if he was able to make that distinction mid-dream. He still could never do anything but watch his brother suffer and die because of him.
“listen, fact of the matter is, we already kicked this guy’s ass, remember? he’s gone, bro. so you gotta try to remember that the next time he shows his fucking face in your dreams. he’s gone, i’m fine, and you’re safe now. he’s not a threat anymore.”
Papyrus drew his legs up onto the couch, hugging them against his chest and resting his chin on his knees. He looked uncertain, eyes cast down.
“say it, papyrus. he’s not a threat anymore.” Sans urged.
Well he had made a fair point. Logically, anyway. Flowey had been eliminated. But it was easy to have that kind of rational thought when he wasn’t in the midst of a panic attack, whether awake or asleep.
“He’s not a threat…” Papyrus conceded, but his voice was so unsure, it sounded more like he knew he was telling an outright lie.
Sans reached out to gently punch Papyrus in the upper arm. “hey now, i know you can do better than that. c’mon…”
“He’s not a threat anymore,” he managed, forcing more conviction into his voice this time. He glanced at his brother.
Sans nodding encouragingly, warmth coming to his smile. “and I’m safe.”
“And you’re safe.” Papyrus inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly.
“see? now you just say those words over and over again. and before you know it, he won’t bother showing up in your dreams anymore. next time he does, you just tell him your big bro’s got your back, and you’re not scared of him. he can’t control you now.” Sans gave a confident smirk.
Papyrus found he was nodding, mulling over Sans’ advice in his head. “He’s not a threat, and Sans is safe.” he paused, before adding on, “He can’t control me anymore…”
Sans smiled a bit more. “that’s perfect, bro. you got this. you repeat that every single night, okay? and if you wake up scared, repeat it again then too. you’ll beat these bad dreams. that little weed’s got nothin’ on my super cool brother.”
Despite everything, Papyrus couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Sans looked pleased, maybe even a little proud. After a moment, he asked with a casual tone that may have been masking a slight hopefulness, “so, uh, it’s been awhile since i’ve gotten to read to ya. you wanna pull fluffy bunny off the shelf? then i’ll tuck you in. like old times?”
Papyrus couldn’t deny how great that sounded right now. It was a routine that had been lost in his months of Flowey’s torments, and it was something he badly missed. He smiled, genuine excitement hinted in his eyes. “That sounds perfect.”