Shadows of the Missing Past

Chapter 1: The Usual Morning Grind

          "SANS! ARE YOU AWAKE IN THERE? BREAKFAST IS READY! HELLO??" a familiar, ringing, and slightly high-pitched voice brought him into consciousness. Sans slowly blinked open his tired eyesockets, letting them adjust to his surroundings.

          He was curled up on his bed. The blankets were tangled up in a round mass at the foot of the bed, as usual. His room was dark, but he could faintly make out the shapes of loose socks and other clothes lying on the floor. In the opposite corner of the room was his dresser, with that same table lamp that had been on that same dresser back in the Underground. In the center of the wall behind him was the window; both the blinds and curtains were shut. The only source of light was from the crack under the door on the opposite wall from the window.

          "SINCE YOU AREN'T ANSWERING ME, I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO COME IN THERE," the familiar voice announced. The doorknob turned, rattling slightly, and the door swung open, the light from the hallway spilling into the room. Walking through the door was Sans' tall, lanky, younger brother, Papyrus. Papyrus sighed at the sight of his brother's messy room, before walking over to the window, opening the blinds and the curtains, letting sunlight flood into the room.

          Sans groaned, slamming his eyesockets shut, and rolling onto his 'stomach.' He planted his pillow on top of his skull, attempting to block out the blinding sunlight. "go awaaaay, i'm tryna sleeeeeeep," Sans drawled, his voice croaking due to only just waking up.

          "COME ON, LAZYBONES, IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP," his brother piped, easily taking the pillow off of Sans.

          "nooooooo," Sans replied groggily. Papyrus, rolling his eyes affectionately, hoisted up his brother, walked over to the dresser, and set him down.

          "NOW, WHEN I COME BACK UP HERE, YOU BETTER BE DRESSED. AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT, OR ELSE BREAKFAST WILL GET COLD!" Papyrus encouraged, walking out of the room.

          "guess i have no choice," Sans sighed, getting up and listlessly pulling open his pants drawer. He lazily slipped out of his long sleeved pajamas, and pulled on a grey, wool, turtleneck sweater and some maroon sweatpants. He then shuffled over to his bed again, grabbing his favorite blue jacket off of the bedstead, which he slipped on as well.

          Something on his right hand glinted in the sun, reminding him of the piece of clothing he forgot to put on. Sans reached into his drawer again, pulling out a pair of black fingerless gloves that his friend Alphys had given him. He slipped them on, trying not to look at the back of his right hand.

          Promptly, Papyrus marched back into the room.  "AH, GOOD!  ALL RIGHT THEN, BROTHER, LET'S GO GET BREAKFAST.  LADY ASG—   I MEAN TORIEL HAS MADE BUTTERSCOTCH-CINNAMON PANCAKES!"  Papyrus chirped, taking Sans' gloved hand in his own, and pulling him out of the messy bedroom.   

*    today's gonna be greeeeeeeaaaat.

Author's Note: I should probably mention; in Handplates, I KNOW that the brothers are the same age, but I wanted to add my own little flairs and spin offs.  I'm not gonna explain how Papyrus is younger yet, that would be a bit of a spoiler ;)