Classic Fontcest {scenarios}

Scene 3 {Heavy Angst}

Part 2

Papyrus could remember resets.
——-

Author's POV
(Papyrus)

Papyrus opened his eyes.

....

It was blurry.
Really blurry.
It was like seeing through an unadjusted camera lens, his peripheral completely smudged out while he could barely see the red tint of his gloves as he subconsciously waved his hand before his face.
He felt his old mattress that he was laying on as he tried to focus on something.
Something was missing.
Something was gone.

It felt like Deja vù all over again.

Five minutes.
He laid there for five minutes as he tried sorting out what exactly even happened.
He was confused.
Very, very confused.
He was supposed to be cooking now, right?
Cooking on a grill in a backyard, the smell of food wafting through the air as the various sounds morphed together forming a continuous hum.
But.
Why was he laying down?
He was carrying the human right? While he was cooking?
He could hear the distant shouts of Undyne.
Wait.
Human?
Why did he think of a 'human'? He has never seen one.
Has he?
The questions only brought a painful migraine, making Papyrus jitter and get up, his vision not as hazy as before.
Everything was normal.
His boots were beside his bed, clothes grouped up into neat piles, etc.
Nothing out of place.
Nothing.

Oh. That's right.
He was in the underground.
(He felt unsure.)

His grip tightened on the bed frame as he let out a breath he was holding with a sigh.
He had training with Undyne at 5:30 pm sharp.
It was 4:23 am right now. He.. Has to get up but something was holding him back badly. The surge of panic settled in his soul.
What was he missing?-
The migraine shot up his skull, and it felt like claws digging into his mind. All Papyrus could manage was a pathetic garble in his throat as memories resurfaced.

———

(Surface. Day 12. Flashback.)

"Sans? Sans. Wake up, brother." Papyrus tugged on his jacket sleeve, slightly impatient, but he managed to keep his temper down.
A soft groan made its way out of Sans' mouth, body shifting to face Papyrus.
It was five in the evening, and Sans was slept all day.
Papyrus had of course, decided to wake him up in order to feed him (he didn't want him to starve himself.) and at least  make him take a bath. Maybe Sans will manage to eat a bit of porridge, to try and fill him up a bit without him emptying his stomach in the bathroom after.
The thought made Papyrus cringe, the slight pinch of guilt in his soul. (Why wouldn't he feel guilty? It was his fault, after all.)
At that, Papyrus shook Sans, maybe a bit too harshly as his eyes snapped open and immediately fixated on Papyrus.
(The familiar look of fear from Sans didn't go unnoticed from Papyrus. Maybe he thought they were in the underground again.)
Sans quickly scampered up, arms trembling with a dazed look in his pinpricks as he tried fixing his bed only to mess it up more from how nervous he was.
Papyrus felt bad.
"Sans."
"I-I'm sorry, I'll just-"
"Calm down."
Sans' eye lights vanished as his shoulders slumped, his tight grip on the sheets loosened.
Papyrus was terrified of this look. It reminded him on the day Sans had almost "fallen."
(His maximum of 0.64 HoPe was another souvenir for that day.)
The tense atmosphere made his posture waiver.
"Sans," Papyrus cleated his throat. "What did I tell you?" His voice was soft, trying to comfort Sans.
"T-that," Sans gulped, his pinpricks lighting up again. He was obviously thinking of the answer, fumbling with his words like that. Has he forgotten?
Papyrus felt his anger flare, but realized what he was doing when his right hand was almost raised up. No more hitting. He promised-
"That we're.. Not in the underground anymore. A-and you've.. You've changed." Sans stuttered what Papyrus has told him, anxiety evident. He made it clear that he wanted some alone time, and Papyrus hesitantly gave in, making a last ditch effort to give a faltering grin. As he headed out the door with a weigh on his shoulders, Sans opened his mouth as he looked down at the ground.

"N.. No more.. T-That's what you p-promised, right Papyrus..?"

His voice was full of trust.
Full of hope that he'll never be hurt again; no more new scars. No more crying; no more arguing. They'll both try to heal. The hope in his voice made Papyrus' soul thump as he got a cold chill down his spine.
Sans was depending on him.
He'll do what it takes to make it up for what he has done.
(How he ruined Sans.)

"Yes brother. No more. Promise."

———

"Sans.."

Papyrus has opened his eyes, the bitter taste in his mouth. Does.. Does Sans remember? Does he recall the last timeline?
He subconsciously got up, heading towards the door, only wearing his loose shirt and basketball shorts, opening the door.
Funny.
He expected Sans to be cooking in the kitchen by now. He used to get up early and cook for Papyrus when he was recovering on the surface where he actually joined more physical activities. But since it reset, Papyrus guessed it was different.
Maybe he'll take a.. Walk.
A walk sounds good.
To get out of the house which had this damp atmosphere.
He didn't bother to grab a coat, and just opened the door-
But before his hand could touch the door knob, it opened, revealing Sans.
He had groceries in hand, filled with pasta sauces, a box of uncooked spaghetti, some vegetables, and seasoning all tightly packed in a small paper bag. Papyrus gave a grin, but he saw the way Sans shook, his bones rattling as he seemed to pause for a moment. He looked like he was frozen, unable to speak, to reason with Papyrus. Papyrus gulped, opening his mouth. "Sans-"
That seemed to get a reaction. Sans clutched the bag tightly, making a small squeak as he bolted into the house, blindly entering the kitchen. "Sorry! Sorry! I'm sorry for being late to cook! It won't happen ever again!" His terrified voice made Papyrus' spine crawl, his posture slumped.
...
It..
It all repeated.
It was rewinded, the timeline morphing into something new; something fresh. But it started on the wrong date. The wrong time.
To where Papyrus hurt Sans again and again.

...
He heard the irritating clang of the pots in the kitchen as his mood was completely ruined. Turning to the kitchen where his brother was, he tightened his fist as his magic burns to life.
He had told Sans to avoid making so much noise. It was irritating. It's a simple order, really; and he still couldn't follow it.

(Heh. Back to the old times. Again.)