Chapter Text
When Sans finally came to, it was with a pounding headache and blurred vision. He groaned and reached a hand up to rub at his skull, jolting in surprise when he was met with what felt like soft velvet, almost like the kind used on Papyrus’ gloves, instead of the hard feeling of bone. Bringing his hand down he blinked rapidly at the sight of the glove that looked strikingly similar to his brothers in all ways except coloration; while Papyrus’ were a brilliant red, these were a much lighter cyan. “What the hell…” looking down, Sans noted his attire had also been altered. He had a grey chest-plate in place of his usual tank-top and jacket as well as black tights instead of his basketball shorts. Feeling a pressure on his throat, the small skeleton reached a somewhat shaky hand only to find a bandana was securely tied around his neck, but something heavier seemed to be underneath it. Slipping his fingers beneath the soft material (just like Papyrus’, he noted in confusion), Sans felt the smooth leather of a collar fastened tightly. No matter how far he turned it, he was unable to find a buckle or button to remove it by, the thing seeming to be one unbroken strip of leather that had no way of coming off short of being sliced off.
Just as the panic was starting to set in, a door opened, startling Sans enough that he backed up to the headboard of the bed he only now realized he was tucked into. A tall skeleton that looked strikingly like Papyrus, but not quite right, walked into the room carrying a tray with what looked like tacos and a couple bottles of water. The taller skeleton regarded him with a lazy smile, approaching despite the smaller monster’s obvious fear and placing the tray of food on the bedside table. “Hey there, sleepyhead. How ya feelin’?” Not-Papyrus asked, his voice a lazy drawl that reminded Sans of his own voice. “Head hurts. Who are you? Where-” Sans was cut off by a coughing fit that rattled his ribs and forced him to hunch over in pain. Not-Papyrus sat next to him on the bed, rubbing his back to ease his pain while he passed an open bottle of water over for him to drink.
“Wow, I knew you weren’t feeling well, but I didn’t think you’d be unable to recognize your own brother. It me, Sans. Papy,” the taller monster said reassuringly once Sans had gotten a drink and looked a little less like he was going to hack a lung up. Sans stared at the other skeleton incredulously before realizing that yes, he was indeed being serious. “You aren’t my brother. You’re not Papyrus. I don’t know who you are, but I know you aren’t my bro,” Sans tried to move away from the other, shaking his head and staring worriedly; he was halted by an arm wrapping around his shoulder. “Now now, Sans. I know you aren’t feeling well, but I can promise you that I’m your big bro Papyrus. You know, lazy bones who’s never at his post no matter how much you complain?” the tall monster said with a chuckle, drawing the smaller closer.
“N-No, that’s not, you’re not, I don’t know who you are. Papyrus isn’t, I’m not, you’re,” Sans was cut off with a phalange to his non-existent lips. “Hush, little bro. That’s just the fever talking. It’s ok to be confused, but I promise I’m your brother, and I’m here to take care of you until you start to feel back to your old, magnificent self, alright?” despite the statement having been a question, Sans wasn’t given time to answer it before a taco was thrust into his now open mouth. “Here, you need to eat to keep up your strength. You made these yesterday before your fever hit, remember?” Not-Papyrus asked hopefully. Sans crunched down on the food in his mouth, unable to do much else, and grimaced at the taste; it was indescribable. Is this what it would be like if Papyrus tried to make tacos? That’s what it tasted like.
When this Papyrus drew the taco back, Sans coughed heavily again, flinching harshly when the water bottle was brought to his teeth. He gratefully took a few drinks, clearing his non-existent throat before the taco was once again at his teeth, this time not just shoved inside without his consent. “I-I’m ok, bro. I’m really not hungry,” he tried to dissuade the other managing to turn his head only a fraction of an inch before his chin was caught in an unwavering grip. The gentle smile on the other monster’s face was mildly unnerving and seemed insincere with how tightly it was drawn. “No need to worry bro. You really need to keep up your strength while you’re sick, so I’ll just feed you myself,” without waiting for a response, the taco was shoved back into Sans’ mouth, drawing a choked sound of surprised confusion.
Despite his frantic noises and attempts to thrash, this Papyrus eventually managed to force the entire thing down his throat and into his stomach, bringing the water bottle back immediately after finishing the arduous task. Sans gasped, panting breathlessly while trying to recover from the rough treatment only to jolt backwards when the second taco was brought to his teeth. Tears gathering in his eyes, he looked to the Papyrus and shook his head, trying to say no, only to have the second taco shoved into his mouth just like the first. “There’s no need to thank me, bro. Taking care of younger siblings, that’s what big bros are for,” Papyrus said with a smile, forcing more of the food into Sans’ mouth. More tears leaked out of Sans’ sockets while he tried to speak around the food, wanting to tell this monster to leave him alone and to stop calling him his brother, but he was unable to voice anything except a frustrated groan as yet more food was shoved into his open mouth.
Finally, finally , the taco was eaten and Sans was left a near-sobbing mess on the bed. He flinched when the other pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back soothingly, cooing that he had done so well finishing all the food despite being sick. “There, baby bro. You’re done now, you’re ok. I’m here. I’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing his teeth to Sans skull in a skeleton kiss, cradling the smaller’s shaking frame. Tears slid down Sans’ cheekbones as he sobbed openly, petrified of moving and upsetting this version of his brother again and terrified at the thought of never seeing his own brother again.
Eventually, Sans’ cried himself back to sleep, the combination of stress and the very light sleeping drugs in the food lulling him into a deep slumber. Papyrus, or Honey, as he was known in this universe sighed heavily and shifted his not-quite brother from his arms to a more comfortable position on the bed, tucking him in lovingly. “You aren’t quite my Sans, but you’re as close as I was going to get. You’re my brother now. My Blueberry,” Papyrus spoke, leaning down to press his forehead to the smaller skeleton’s, closing his eyes and holding those delicate cheekbones in a tight grip. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” with a soft kiss to the sleeping monster’s nasal aperture, Honey rose and made his way downstairs, plans for his new brother running through his mind as he turned on NTT. This Sans wasn’t quite right, but with proper training, he would be the Blueberry that Honey needed. Glancing over to the small vase on the small table beside the couch, Honey decided he needed a cigarette.