i don't know why i return to the scenes of these crimes

[trombones]

Another dream.

It had been a year since the surface happened. A year of changes for the better, good times, good memories - and the occasional nightmare Sans was just barely getting better at explaining to friends and family. He vaguely asked both Toriel and Frisk if they would help him sometimes, remind him of when and where they were and how long it had been since they came to the surface. Only Frisk would really understand why, but it helped to know.

The kid promised they wouldn't reset. That didn't stop Sans' bad dreams and occasional doubts, though. Even after a year, it was still all sinking in. It would get better. HE would get better. He already was by leaps and bounds, every day he woke up with the sun on his face and actual sky above him. But for Sans, it would be a long time going before it completely sank in that this was actually permanent. Before the back-of-his-mind paranoia that crept up sometimes would settle.

Tonight was one of the bad ones. He had dozed off on the floor at Toriel's place, near the fireplace and wrapped in blankets and pillows. Then, in his sleep, he started shifting uncomfortably, gritting his teeth through quiet groans and unintelligible murmurs. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, one eye glowing, and jerked forward with a sharp gasp.

His hand reached out like he was about to attack. It's about two seconds too late before he realizes his arm is in the fire. Dying, but still burning. Sans suppresses a yelp through his teeth and jerks away, cursing as he hurriedly patting at his burning sleeve. In the process, he kicks over nearby pokers, causing a clattering crash.

Sans kicks away, as if the distance will solve anything, until his back is against Toriel's arm chair, panting. His sleeve is thankfully out, but he can feel the burn in his hand. He hissed. Sans wasn't so delicate that a papercut could kill him, but at the same time? He didn't take injuries very well.

Well. That's one way to wake up.

Comments

[guardimom]

Toriel's dreams haven't always been easy. Her weathered paws tell the tale of many tragedies, and though time helps to heal all wounds, some scars will always remain. She's fairly comfortable in this new life, happier than she'd been since that happy time in Home long ago.

Her darling roommate, her impossible bonefriend (not that she'd call him that out loud, it was a terrible pun) is one large part of her new happiness. So, too, is dear Frisk and all their friends new and old. Each day is full of hope, and many, though not all, nights are free of nightmares.

This is one of the lucky nights. She dozes peacefully on her enormous bed, face aglow, when she suddenly jerks awake. Years of experience with children have fine-tuned her danger sense, so this is familiar. Someone's gotten themselves into trouble, but who could it be? Tonight it was only her and...

"Sans!"

She calls for him quietly on the off chance that he's still asleep, throwing her robe over her nightgown as she begins her search. Fortunately, it's not a very long search. There's a familiar skeleton huddled at the foot of her favorite chair, and she immediately kneels before him.

"Sans, what's happened?"

[trombones]

All the noise Sans had made probably didn't help. He wasn't the type to yell or scream, but between the crashing and his gritted grunts and gasps, he was definitely making enough noise to get somebody's attention.

By the time Toriel came in the room, he holding his wrist, pressed against her chair with his knees to his chest and forcing himself to breathe slow and quiet. It wasn't quite working - and made all the worst when she came in.

"F-F...

His hand is burnt. There are black, smoking marks on his carpals, metacarpals, and the tips of his phalanges. He must have curled his hand inward without realized it to not burn the middle of his hand. It's not completely obnoxious without skin or fur to singe, but he can feel it in every small bone in his hand that twitches even slightly and it hurts.

"F-F-Fine."

That doesn't answer her question. He was panicked less about the pain and more over what he just woke up from, but it wasn't helping. He doesn't look at her, instead staring unfocused towards the fireplace.

[guardimom]

Toriel's heart clenches in her chest. He is most certainly not fine, not with an injury like that. He's quite intelligent enough to avoid burns in normal circumstances, so something's driven him to this in the middle of the night.

"Was there something in the fire, Sans?"

It would be best to get him talking, she thinks...anything to get her a chance to look at that hand if he'll drop his guard. She probably shouldn't be too forward with him.

[trombones]

"..."

Habit tells him to keep saying he's fine, but he's also not thinking straight. Toriel was on the right track asking him him indirect questions, though. He could answer that. He didn't have to think about that.

"S... someone."

[guardimom]

"Someone? Who could be there at this hour?"

She edges closer to the fire, peering inside for any clues to this mystery. Nothing, no Grillby, no Flames Heatsman...just an entirely lifeless fire. It certainly puts his burns in a worrying light, though.

[trombones]

As funny as it would be for Grillby, Flames Heatsman, or even Pyrope to show up, nope. It was just a flower. A flowers in his dreams.

... Dreams. It finally registers. He was dreaming. His breathing slows, just a little. Still disturbed, but at least a little calmer.

"In my... I was dreaming. Heh. Just a dream..."

[guardimom]

"So it was..."

Toriel trails off, hoping there would be a way to help here. She gently leans over to study the damage.

"Dreams can drive us to strange and terrible places, but they cannot reach you now."

[trombones]

Sans laughs, but he doesn't look happy about it. He's coming back down to reality, if anything, still not quite listening to Toriel.

"Holy... why does my hand hurt?"

The skeleton looks down at turns his bony fingers over. The slightest twitch makes him flinch. Then he holds it up to himself. He stares, registering vague surprise.

"... Heh. Who knew bone was flammable? Guess I got burnt out."

Then he laughs. It's forced, pained, and not all that funny. Then he flinches again, this time that slightest twitch hurting just enough to make him hiss and pull his body even further inward of himself, hand included. He's shaking.

[guardimom]

Toriel wants to sweep him up and make it all better, but she's never really been able to do that. Not even for the smallest of her children. She can try, but for her dear bonefriend she'll have to show patience.

"I have never healed burnt bone before, but I am certain it could not hurt to try. Would you allow me?"

[trombones]

Okay, scratch that. Reality is still happening, but it's kind of hard. It takes him another long while that feels like forever, but he finally looks up to Toriel.

"I... guess...? You can try."

[guardimom]

Toriel nods and gently cradles his wrist through the sleeve. She licks her teeth in concentration, closes her eyes...and releases her magic, a small white light. She pours her will into it, humming softly as she had to her children.

"...Sans?"

[trombones]

It feels nice. It really does. Sans initially flinches at Toriel's touch, but eventually settles as the magic starts to course through him, healing his bones and pouring something light and warm into him.

His breathing slows even more, and he leans against Toriel's chest. It helps. He closes his eyes, focused on the feeling.

"Mmh. Yeah...?"

[guardimom]

Toriel smiles and gently curls herself around him, allowing him rest for as long as he needs.

"I am very glad to hear it. Have you received any other injuries?"

She sincerely hopes not, she thinks to herself as she enjoys the closeness they share. What had happened to him here...she tried to imagine it and found she didn't want to.

[trombones]

"... Heh."

Sans grunts that relaxed little sound he almost always made when Toriel curled around him. It's nice. It's safe. The feeling is finally enough, and he opens his eyes again.

"I don't..." He looks down. "Yeah. No. I don't think so. Just... lemme stay like this for a while. Please."

He knew Toriel would oblige him, but as two hands come up and over onto her arm, a small part of him is afraid she'll disappear if he doesn't hold on. His eyes slowly wander to the fireplace again.

"... Guess I gotta pick better places to fall asleep."

[guardimom]

Toriel responded by bowing her head over him, offering shelter as best as she was able. She'd done this so many times, it was as natural as anything.

"How forgetful of me! Of course you are in need of a comfortable bed...for tonight, I will give you mine. We will locate one for you first thing in the morning."

[trombones]

It helps. A lot. Sans lets out one last, finally contented sigh.

It's a little better.

"Heh... you don't have to do that, Tori. I just fell asleep in the wrong spot." His eyes stay on the fire. "And bad dreams. I guess."

[guardimom]

Toriel desperately wants to squeeze him, to protect him, to banish all those memories, but she knows he can't. She knows she's limited, but what she can offer here is support.

"Dreams are not reality, but we often fear they may become it...or they may reflect a past we wish to forget. I have dealt with such many times, and on those nights I would often return to this fireplace."

[trombones]

"I guess it ain't working for me, since you already claimed it."

The skeleton leaned further onto Toriel, taking comfort in her broad form. She was solid, gentle, and, most of all, soft. As a monster foriegn to skin or fur - hers helped.

He closes his eyes.

"Papyrus told me once... that bad dreams is just your subconscious jealous of success. Wonder if that's true. Heh."

[guardimom]

[Toriel continues to hold him, just barely humming an old lullaby. She stops after a few moments to speak.]

Papyrus has much to be proud of, so I can certainly see that. So do you, Sans, but...it is not as simple as taking a page out of his book, is it? Thornier than that.

[trombones]

"Not as simple, no, but... it helps."

Eyes still closed, Sans gingerly wrapped his fingers Toriel's paw and pressed a kiss against it. For skeleton monsters, kissing wasn't much more than clanking your teeth against something, but it was the thought that counts.

He then nuzzled his head against her paw, resting it there.

"So does this."

[guardimom]

Toriel understood the meaning of the gesture all the same, an odd heat pooling in her face---and that wasn't the fire's doing. She curled her other paw over his back, humming contentedlu.

"My Sans. No more harm will come to you tonight."

Her words are a quiet vow. She can fight the nightmares by keeping close, or at least she hopes it.

[trombones]

"Heheheh."

The 'my' of her first sentence makes him blush too, but it's definitely welcome. He slowly nods into her hand.

"Thanks, Tori."

[guardimom]

Ah, he is settling down. Perhaps she can put her plan into motion now? Toriel tightens her grasp on Sans and rises, slowly carrying him across the house.

"I will remain with you until you fall asleep," she says. "You will not have to fear."

we could prob end this one whenever!

[trombones]

The movement is jarring for a second. Sans twitches slightly in surprise, but settles down half a second later when he realizes it's just her. Heh.

"I believe it, seein' as I'm with a boss monster and all." He chuckles... then yawns. "Seriously... thanks, Tori."