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

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.

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"... 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."

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."

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."

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."

"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."

[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.

"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."

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.

"Heheheh."

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

"Thanks, Tori."

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."

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."

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

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we could prob end this one whenever!