RESTORE

Prologue

"You know, I was a solider once. Many of us were … and not exactly by choice."

The skeleton monster stared in silence from where he stood with a band of one hundred or so monsters, rallied together in a sudden effort to defend their settlement from the angered humans from the next village over the mountain. He had been given a sword, but the weapon felt stupid in his hands. He hoped he wouldn't need to use it.

King Asgore, dressed in royal robes and thick armor, a red trident in his mighty white-furred fist, stood in front of them, facing the huge mob of humans advancing towards them across the valley. It was more of an army than a mob. And all of them with Souls burning bright red as they charged, spears aimed for the monsters.

They almost blurred among each other from the amount of raw determination.

Gaster could hear Asgore's deep voice telling them to stand their ground, and then the king slammed forward, running three humans through with his trident. The monsters lunged after the king and the battle began.

Gaster felt his own Soul shudder and freeze inside him, rooting him to the spot in utter shock and fear as the violence raged around him. Dust began to fill the air alongside the screams of agony, hate, and desperation from both monster and human lungs.

At some point he must have fallen to his knees, gripping his sword in trembling hands. He couldn't do this; he couldn't fight. He didn't want to be apart of this.

A man entered his vision and they locked eyes. The human rushed at him, eyes burning red and a hideous grin on his face, spear raised, and then Gaster knew why he had agreed to standing with his fellow monsters in battle when Asgore called for soldiers.

They were going to be extinct at the end of all this.

He had no choice. Not really.

Still trembling, the skeleton stared in horror as he plunged his blade through the human's torso. Blood squirted and splattered his skull as his attacker fell. Beyond him, a second skeleton monster fell into a mound of dust.

Gaster choked and covered his mouth, nearly sobbing. He flung his arm skywards. Above where he knelt on the ground, a skeletal head appeared and fired a blast, screams following.

But probably even worse than the violence taking place wherever he looked was the fact his mind knew it was only a memory being replayed as a dream. A very real, very true memory. Gaster could only watch himself go through the motions of war.

"Of course, I didn't start out as a soldier. I was a doctor then, before the war. I wanted to fix things. To help people, monster and human."

The settings shifted, becoming hazed with red fog as the dream lolled off out of context with Gaster's war memories. The battle raged, but it was silent and cold. His own sword was in his hand, mocking him, covered with crimson life liquid. Gaster shut his eyes.

"Doctor Gaster? What is this place?"

"I never wanted to kill ..."

"Please … then please, don't kill me, too."

He opened his eyes. A green Soul was suddenly there in front of him, bobbing up and down slowly.

Dumbfounded, Gaster backed away. His footsteps echoed off of smooth floors, not uneven earth from the surface. The battlefield memory was gone, but the green Soul stayed, taking up all his attention. From somewhere deep inside himself, the doctor-turned soldier felt a lump of dread welling up. This wasn't right.

Green Souls were made of Kindness, and you never found those out on the battlefield.

The skeleton doctor's eyes flew open and he stared at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom.

Groaning, Gaster shifted his arm over his eyes and began to count to one hundred until his Soul stopped its panicked shuddering. It was just a dream. A nightmare mixed with memories and a load of guilt he wanted to forget. He couldn't afford to let a mere nightmare get the best of him, especially with a full day of work ahead of him.

"Only a dream," the Royal Scientist told himself gently. "You're fine. The war is over. You … did what you had to, but it will never happen again."

Nightmares or not, he would always remember a time when he was a doctor that tended to both monsters and human children during an epidemic. He'd mend broken bones and soothe fever-ridden youngsters to sleep from both races. He was the skeleton man who fixed things and made people all better. And yet he'd forced himself to go against all he ever wanted and took life instead of saving it.

He had only ever wanted to be a doctor, but the war had taken the optimistic version of himself and turned him into … something else.

Something he wanted to forget.

Ebott park was bustling with activity.

The small clearing at the base of the single mountain was a common place for public activities or celebrations, such as birthdays. Picnic tables were spread with colorful sheets and laden with hamburgers, hot dogs and all sorts of typical party food. A group of children darted around the playground structure which now adorned a flimsy pirate flag. The youngsters wore bandannas and carried their cheap, plastic swords with pride and marched after one particular boy wearing a pirate's eye patch, barking orders to his 'crew.'

But off to the side of the festivities stood a little girl in a bright blue dress and a light sweater under a tree, loose brown hair partially held back by two pink ribbons.

Tabitha shifted her weight from one foot to the other, finding her party shoes pinched a little too much. Her eyes followed the older kids longingly, but they had made it clear that they had no room for her in their crew. She was "too little", they said.

An adult had noticed and said they needed to be nice to the little girl, before giving her one of the toy swords.

"Now you can play too," the adult had said, smiling in a satisfied way.

Tabitha now looked down at the toy knife in her hand. It was smaller than the other kids' swords. Made for a baby. And they still didn't want her tagging along in their games. "We don't got room for babies," the birthday boy had declared when she'd asked to play along.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the fresh memory and she scowled at the ground. She wasn't a baby. She was six years old after all!

Tabitha frowned and turned her attention to the mountain instead of the party in front of her. It was so big. People weren't supposed to go near it for some reason. They said it was dangerous and bad things happened on the mountain. No one ever said what they were, though.

She wiped the back of her hand across her face and sniffled, casting one quick glance back at the other children, who had now taken over the playground structure, chattering and yelling about attacking mermaids and monsters. Without her.

The little girl narrowed her eyes at the bigger kids and lifted her chin. She turned and darted away, heading defiantly for the looming mountain in the distance. She was not a baby and she was going to prove it.

Babies don't climb mountains after all. That would show them.

Author's Note: This story has been in the works for almost a year. Inspired by many Gaster-centered comics, I wanted to try my hand at portraying Gaster as not only the Royal Scientist, but also as a father to everyone's favorite skeleton brothers. Expect skeleton-family shenanigans. ;)

Plus, it's not often to find a story involving one of the other Fallen Souls prior to Frisk.

Reviews are always appreciated!