1. Be Brave.
Sans woke up with a pain in his chest and a scream lodged in his throat.
The house was silent except for the ticking of a clock, the soft whirl of the trash tornado, and the sound of rain falling on the roof. Rain. There was no rain in the Underground. The world hadn't reset. They were still above ground.
Just another nightmare.
His bones were damp, soaked in the same cold sweat as his sheets. Sans rolled to one side, curled up against the world, and counted. Inhale for four, exhale for six. Inhale for four, exhale for six. Soon the frantic beating of his soul settled. There was a flash of lightning barely visible through the window and eight seconds later the distant roll of thunder accompanying the rain. He thought about laying down, but what was the point? It wasn't like he would be able to go to sleep.
There was a good – okay, 100% chance – that Papyrus was still up. Probably on the internet or watching TV with the sound off and the subtitles on. Sans could go sit with his brother until the lingering anxiety from the nightmare left. It happened often enough that Papyrus wouldn't even comment on it. Mostly.
He pushed off the blankets and sat up in bed. A bed. What a novel concept. As far as Sans was concerned, a mattress on the floor was just as good. Getting him a bed had been his brother's idea. Papyrus had insisted that now that they were on the surface, Sans should have a bed like a real adult. It just seemed like too much effort to argue. Besides, using a bed seemed like a small thing to do if it made Papyrus happy.
It seemed weird to have to climb out of bed after so many years of just being able to roll onto the floor from the mattress. Not a bad weird. Just weird.
His feet didn't quite touch the floor when he hung them over the side. There was a height joke to be made there, but Sans cut it short. Another flash of lightening. Another roll of thunder. Sans braced himself to put his foot on the floor.
And hesitated. What if there was something under the bed?
Sans shook his head. Where had that thought come from? The only things under his bed was a couple of wrappers, an empty soda can, and some socks he couldn't be bothered to retrieve. It was a place to collect dust, trash, and clothes. That was it. There was nothing there.
His foot hit the carpet with no issue, and Sans couldn't stop the sigh of relief. Then he laughed at himself. What else had he expected to happen? Sans shuffled unenthusiastically towards the door.
He shouldn't look behind him. Something might be watching.
What the fuck? Sans froze half-way across the room. The nightmare was making him jumpy or something. Why else would he think such things? Even though every bone in his body screamed not to, Sans turned around.
There was the window. There was the bed. There was the trash tornado, the dresser, and the pile of book stacked on the floor right next to the bed. What there wasn't was anything under the bed. Just shadows where the light didn't reach.
Lightening flickered showing through the curtain, throwing the edges of the room into sharp relief. There was... nothing under the bed. Absolutely nothing.
Right. Sans definitely needed to go down and hang with Papyrus. Anything to keep his brain from thinking about things that definitely didn't exist. He turned around, and defiantly walked towards the door.
Behind him, red eyelights cut through the darkness beneath the bed. Those eyes watched Sans until the door shut behind him. Then the monster under the bed smiled.