Chapter 2: Opportunities

Time carried on and the doctor occasionally forgot about his guest. A soft grunt of the couch told him that she was most likely awake.

Glancing behind him, Gaster saw Clara was indeed awake, but not all there. Heavy eyes looked at the blanket that was draped over her before seeming to nod off again. With a sharp inhale and righting herself into a sitting position, Clara shot her attention to the monster watching her. The doctor gave her a simple smile.

"How are you feeling? You slept for a while there." He stated, glancing at his silver watch that border lined on gawdy. This did not surprise Clara; he must be loaded what with all his published findings and research. Time had gone on for about two hours while the girl recovered, making it now about one in the afternoon.

"Uh… I feel just fine, Dr. Gaster, thank you. I believe I have kept you long enough. I will return to my class now." She spoke just above a mutter, guilt and regret tinging at the corners of her eyes. Sleeping in the personal office of the great Doctor W.D. Gaster, having to be pulled aside for her insubordinate behavior, not to mention acting is such a disrespectful way… This whole experience mortified her.

Gently folding the blanket back onto the back of the couch, she stood and looked about for her things a moment. Gaster had not withdrawn her eyes from her, pondering. Perhaps she is still inhibited? It should have worn off enough to not be outwardly noticeable by now. Shy thing probably believes that I think her stupid. Getting up himself, Gaster openly gestures for her to sit down again.

"I do believe that my train of thought was interrupted before when you passed out. I still wish to speak with you about your work." Baffled, confused, and at a loss for words, Clara slinked onto the edge of the couch, spine so straight it would crick anyone's back just looking at it.

"Now, Miss Avery…" He plucked the worn student's notebook from the corner of his desk, opening to a few pages that still remained. "As I was saying prior, your work is not genius. It is not publishable. It is as clumsy as you are." Clara's head drooped, chin curling inwards a bit. "But… I have spotted a few things in your notes that I had not thought to look at. Perhaps I was the fool when I had worked on this theory, but these are most certainly work looking into. If this," He held the notebook beside his head. "is what you have been working on, then I am impressed. This work is clever and cheeky, as is some of the best. Obviously, you are young and not as keen as my colleagues and I." Gaster held out the notebook under Clara's face, hinting for her to take it, his hand still out to her after she accepted it.

"But I think I will take a gamble." Turning his hand vertically, he reached out for hers. "Would you consider working here? I do not need an answer right this moment, but promise me you will consider it."

If Gaster did not know better, he would have been worried she was losing consciousness again, silent and still. Gradually, she positioned her hand next to Gaster's, looking up with her head still lowered as if for permission. She bit the corner of her upper lip and nodded before taking his hand as though it was a pressure sensitive bomb. A smile lit up the doctor's face as he clasped her hand with both of his.

"Then I look forward to your answer, Clara Avery." With a sharp nod, he let go of her hand as it just stayed there. Had she just… shaken hands with Doctor Gaster? Wait… WORKING HERE!? The pandemic realization in her mind did not transfer to her face, nor her body. "Is your hand alright?" Gaster asked sarcastically, a smirk twinging his feature. Embarrassed, Clara returned her hand to her lap with the other. Gaster glanced at his watch yet again.

"I suppose I should see as to those exa- The students!" Gaster shouted so suddenly that he seemed to startled himself, a hand flying to his mouth. "Wait here!" Without another word, he practically clambered out of the office, leaving a very confused Clara.

Shit, shit, shit, SHIT! Thanking his height for his long strides, Gaster scrambled through the halls, down the balcony, and down the hall the students had gone down hours ago. A female human waved him down in the distance, outside the room he had designated for the exams. Grinding his feet into the tiled floor and his hands steadied on her shoulders, a hand stopped his train of thought before he could begin.

"Calm down, Dr. Gaster," The woman cooed. "Everything is taken care of. Exams are finished, belongings searched, and students interviewed. We have all the findings we can get from them. At this time, the cleaning staff are already searching the waste bins for needles and drug bottles. The city's bins just outside the facility have been locked shut and we will search them when the town designates us to." Almost pridefully, she smooths Gaster's hands from her blue blazer, rousing the monster from his shocked stupor. Standing at full height, he stoned his face as he took the offered documents from her. Within were the exams, written report of belongings, and student statements. Sighing, Gaster's shoulders slumped.

"Thank you, Nadia. If anything had gotten out about this before we were able to do a proper investigation, I would be dealing with months of damage control. Not to mention possible lost evidence. Any of these testimonies worth noting?" He fingered through the pages, most of them with 'No useable information' inked into them.

"Unfortunately, not much. One student mentioned how the girl had been lagging behind in the group most of the way into the lab, decreasing the number of witnesses, if any."

"And what about their dorm rooms? Chances are there has to be some form of evidence. There are only about thirty students or so, it should not take that long to conduct. This is a federal crime of non-consensual drugging, hiding of evidence, lying to authorities, and blatant endangerment; the school will have no qualms about complying." Going through to the last page, the scientist returned his attention to the lady in blue.

"Trust me, Doctor, you do not need to remind an officer of the laws broken here. They have been contacted and have agreed. Some of the other officers should be there by now. How is she doing?" Nadia's composure seemed to seep to a look of sympathy and concern.

"She is fine now; the drug has worn off, I believe. I have her medical report up in my office, which I forgot in my rush to get here. I will bring her to her dorm after I get it to you."

"Oh, she's a commuter. I was told she lives alone in an apartment about half and hour away from the college." She reached into the pile in Gaster's hands and brought forward a paper with the stated information provided by a student.

"Of course, I forgot to ask her that; I should not have assumed. I will go finalize the report with her. Feel free to follow." Rubbing the side of his bare head, his glasses skewing. Joking to himself, he wondered if he was drugged as well; this was far too much drama for one day, and it was it was barely the afternoon.

Upon returning, Clara stiffened from her slumped posture. Her eye caught onto the officer who offered a compassionate smile.

"Clara, this is officer Na- er, officer Schnyder." Again, he mussed up his face in his hand as he nearly slipped the officer's first name. "She helped take care of seeing as to who may have drugged you. Schnyder, this is Clara Avery." Nadia Schnyder crouched and offered her hand.

"I am glad to hear that you are feeling better. We'll do what we can to figure this out as soon as we can." She promised. Clara meekly nodded, seeming to relax a little as she appreciated how thoughtful Schnyder was. Gaster came by with his clipboard, the same document on it as before about Clara.

"I just want to verify so of this information with you, Clara." Sitting beside her on the couch, Gaster and Clara mulled over the paper with nods, head shakes, and mumbles. "Okay," he said removing the paper from the clip and offering it to Nadia, "that should do it."

"Thank you, Dr. Gaster. I shall take my leave then!" With a handshake to Gaster and a soft nod to Clara, the officer left as the door slid closed behind her, only for a knock to pound rapidly on it immediately after. Alerted, Gaster reopened to door. There stood one of the students from the class, dropping into a deep bow.

"Doctor W.D. Gaster, I apologize profusely for the intrusion, but I must request that Clara Avery come back with us." Taken aback, Gaster looked to Clara as if for clarification. He returned his attention to the youth, tone stern.

"And you are?"

"Ah yes, I am Kyle Brenton." He stood straight, a conceded smile playing on his face. Gaster's visage did not waver.

"And your relation to Miss Avery?" Brenton's expression almost gave way.

"I am her partner, Dr. Gaster. I wish to make sure she returns home safely; I will drive her back myself." He stated. The doctor stared deeply at the man. He was tall for a human, roughly 6'2"; but when next to the tower of a scientist, it seemed almost laughable. Looking to Clara, he searched for her approval, but she only glanced between the two.

"You may speak with her, but I will be the one bringing to her home. No offense to you, but I do not know of you, nor of your ability to drive." Turning and stepping to his desk, Gaster left him to enter on his own.

Kyle hesitated to step in as though he would be scolded for stepping on the carpet wrong. After a few steps, he rushed and squatted in front of Clara. His face crushed in on itself, hidden from the scientist as he was facing away from him. Barely audible to himself, he hissed and spat.

"What was that, faking all of this for some bullshit? You and your disgusting notes, I should have burned that crap when I told you to." Clara only looked down and nodded. "I'm so glad that you're okay now… sorry about missing the test, maybe next year?"

Foolish child… Gaster thought. It was not difficult for him to listen in on the insults and false concern. His hearing was always rather impeccable. Silently turning around to the student's back, he grimaced and folded his arms. Clara had not noticed, her head bowed too far into her chest. The man continues…

"Whatever this drug shit is, it doesn't matter; you would have failed anyway. You better text me when His Royal Scientist returns you, got it?" He gave a short yank on her forearm.

"I would hope she wouldn't…" The glowering threat spoke over his shoulder. Spinning, but forgetting where his feet were, Kyle stumbled onto the floor. "You said you were her 'partner.' Do tell, what sort of partner treats the other as though a toddler, as though you own her, as though you are above her?" Kyle scrambled to his feet, backing towards the door. "If you treat her like this in my presence, I dare not think of what you act like alone. I will have you know she is a brilliant scientist for her age, and I would be honored to have someone like her aboard my team! I could destroy your entire career and all hopes of being in the scientific community in a picosecond, and do not think I won't." Backed against the door, Kyle pathetically cowered into the collar of his shirt, expression quivering. Gaster opened the door, mercilessly letting the youth fall onto his rear before clambering away. "Should I hear you so much as speak a word to Miss Avery, you will find yourself behind bars!" He howled out the doorway before closing it yet again.

Huffing with a heel turn, Gaster saw the just as frightened girl shivering from the couch. Slowly walking to her, a guilty frown brushed over him.

"Clara, I am sorry… But someone like that…" He went to crouch in front of her, but wound up settling onto the floor, shoulders slumped. "Why would you be with someone like that? I have not heard more than five sentences from him, and I feel like I just saw him absolutely desecrate you verbally. … Please tell me it's only been verbally?" A hand ghosted onto her knee. She refused to look at him, not even his hand. She did not want this right now, much less at all. "Please…?"

"He hasn't punched me in the face or anything…" Gaster was not satisfied with this answer.

"And what else is 'anything?' I swear, if he… damn it…" His hand slipped off before he stood back up to recess into his chair. Bouncing his knee, he stood again, hands grasping at hair that was not there, pacing and siphoning air through crumpled nasal passages. He slowed, smoothing his hands down the back of his skull with a defeated sigh. "We'll… talk about this later. Just don't talk to him and stay away." Deciding to recede to the spot beside her, he placed an arm across her shoulders with a small squeeze. "Okay?"

"Okay…" her voice cracked, brows coming together as her chin tensed. Great, not now, of all times to want to cry. Gaster did not seem to catch her distraught features.

"Good. Like I said, we will talk later about this." He flopped back against the couch with a prominent sigh, resigning from all this emotion.

"For now, I need a drink and some good food." He tilted his head to Clara. "Wanna come? I often go with my colleagues, you haven't eaten in hours, and I'd rather not leave you as such when I bring you home." Who is this guy, all of a sudden? Clara thought. 'Wanna,' 'haven't,' falling onto the couch like that, everything was suddenly so informal. It would have been incredibly rude to have denied him. Good food hopefully did not consist of a triple digit check. She nodded and Gaster smiled. "Excellent."

Hoisting himself up with a hint of a newfound energy, he shed his lab coat and draped it over the back of his chair. A beige, ribbed turtle neck sweater slung around him, black slacks hung down to pristinely polished dress shoes. Settling some papers around and clicking off his desk light, he pulled on a black, fabric coat that reached his knees. A leather and sleek messenger bag was placed onto his shoulder.

"Did you have a coat? I did not see them with your belongings." He asked, handing Clara her book and folders from his desk.

"Yeah, it's in my car. Where is this place, I might have to look it up on my map?" Standing, she accepted her things.

"No need, I'll drive us. I don't want you driving just yet; not till you've eaten something and gotten some proper rest." Placing a deft hand to her back, he ushered her out of the room with him. Before she could protest to his offer, Clara silenced herself. At this point, she knew there was no room for discussion with him.

Reaching the lobby and out the main doors, Gaster let Clara retrieve a few of her things from her car: grabbing her coat and scarf, she replaced her notes back to the passenger seat before returning to her superior. They walked around the corner of the building to a decently sized parking lot designated for employees only. Near the very front stood a black Masarati Quattroporte, waxed and shined to the point where it looked like it belonged on a show floor. Doctor Gaster pulled his keys from his pocket, remote started the beast with a smirk, and went for the driver's seat.

Wait, was she supposed to sit in that? She did not even want to get close to the thing, as if her reflection would desecrate the beauty before her. Gaster stopped halfway into the car, trying his hardest not to smile at her dumbfound look.

"Well, are you coming?"

"This is yours?" Clara nearly squawked.

"Indeed." He disappeared below the roof of the car. Still shocked, Clara slinked forward, taking a moment before grabbing and opening the door. Gaster's seat was practically in the back what with his height. She thought a convertible would have been a better choice for him for a moment, but changed her mind when she saw the childish grin on his face. He must love this car. Gingerly sitting down, Clara slowly latched the door and buckled herself in.

Pulling out and away from the labs, the silent engine made its way towards the neighboring town to the city. Clara recognized the town, having preferred her shopping to a large town than a city. It had a nice community and good shops. Driving down a few streets, Gaster pulled into a parking lot beside a building with a simple neon sign, wood doors, and what appeared to be orange lights inside.

"Ever been here before?" Gaster questioned, shutting off the beast.

"I couldn't see the name from the angle we came." She shrugged and Gaster chuckled.

"You would know if you've been here. No one forgets going to Grillby's." He said, swinging out of the car. Clara followed suit, looking to the brick building. Wasn't Grillby's the bar that typically only monsters attended? Now she was nervous. Not only has she never been in a bar before, regardless of being 24, but most certainly not a bar famous among monsters. She was not a racist, but fear of being seen as one. Leading her by her shoulder, Gaster neared them to the doors, releasing her to walk in first to hold the door behind him.

Booths on the right and tables strewn about on the left and middle, they walked to the bar straight ahead. Retreating into her scarf, Clara watched as every set of eyes glanced from her to the doctor and back to her. Gaster shed his coat to a coat rack to the right of the bar, next to what appeared to be a drastically old jukebox, and he reached for hers in return. There goes her scarf to hid in…

Sitting only a few stools from the jukebox, which seemed to be playing some form of electric swing, Gaster gestured for you to sit to his left. Just as Clara had done so, a kitchen door to the left most of the bar swept outwards. A monster in a black vest, white button down, black half apron around his waist and black slacks, and a bowtie to finish it emerged. The oddly formal wear was not what was intriguing, but the fact that this monster was a humanoid fire elemental was. Instead of being afraid of the walking hazard like most humans would, there was something calming about him. Shallow, rectangular glasses with black arms sat on his thin nose, nearly hiding his eyes. Shaped much like human eyes, his irises seemed to be just a lighter variation to his flames.

It was not until the elemental caught sight of the new arrivals at his bar that he showed an inkling of lips. A knowing smile spread across his face as he sauntered up to them from behind the bar.

"Glad to see ya didn't collapse yet, G." The alto fire chuckled, snips and snaps gracing his laugh. He stretched out his hand to the scientist.

"Could say the same to you, old friend." Grabbing each other's forearms, they shared a smile. The 'old friend' turned to Clara.

"New recruit?" It seemed to be directed towards Gaster, so Clara kept quiet.

"Possibly, it's her decision. Thought I'd bring some company today." Gaster answered. The fire nodded at this information. Tilting his head sideways and slightly down, he placed a hand to his chest.

"Pleasure to meet you. I am Grillby, I run this bar." It was no wonder these two were friends, each far too formal.

"Nice to meet you too…" Clara mumbled as she looked into her lap where her hands fidgeted. This place set her on edge. She swore people were still looking at her. Grillby reaching his hand out, palm up, to her.

"And your name?" She was such a ditz, why was she constantly forgetting to tell people her name today? Using the excuse of the residual drug that had definitely left her system by now, she reached gently to the fire's hand.

"Clara Avery." She mumbled. Giving a slow nod, and lifting her hand a moment, he stood back up.

"Pleasure, Clara. Now what can I get for you two to eat?" Grillby shifted to lean one hand on the bar. Gaster spoke casually.

"Usual." With a nod, Grillby turned to the back bar, reached into a lower cupboard, and withdrew a maroon bottle. Pouring a stemless wine glass, he held it a moment as his hand glowed a bit brighter, swirling the glass. He slid it to Gaster before replacing the cork and the bottle. As Gaster savored a sip, Grillby looked to the meek youth.

"Anything for you, turtle?" He asked. Gaster sputtered as he started laughing. The bartender raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you always feel the need to give people nicknames?" The scientist chortled. Crossing his arms, the Grillby shifted to one foot.

"Well I call you 'G,' and you have no problem with it. Would you prefer Wi-" Gaster immediately cut him off, scatting random sounds to get the elemental to stop.

"Don-Don't you dare! I can easily tell everyone yo-"

"Don't!" Silence fell between the men, an unspoken agreement to drop the discussion. Grillby exhaled, heat waves visibly following his breath. "I called her 'turtle' because she's hiding and shy. Be glad I don't call you things based off of your personality, begrudged bat." The playful banter started up again.

"Oh really? Actually, I quite like that one." Gaster said matter-of-factly, giving a quick flash of his canines. Even Clara rolled her eyes at this. Sharing their reaction, Grillby turned to his other patron.

"Anyway, what'll you have?" Clara had not thought about what she would have actually wanted to eat. Never having been to a bar before, and barely had anything that could be respectfully called a decent meal in weeks, she struggled over what to say.

"I'm fine, thanks-" Clara was cut off by a disgruntled scientist waving her words away.

"No, you're eating. End of discussion." Turning back to his drink, Gaster's name was called from one of the far booths. Before leaving, he turned to Grillby. "She needs to eat something, it's on me." Watching as her superior left, she spotted a leery look from a patron. Swiveling back to the bar, she kept her head down and her shoulders hunched. I suppose I do look like a turtle, she thought.

"Clara, you really should eat something. Gaster does not force people to eat without a good reason. Anything in particular that you like?" Grillby soothed. He had lowered his voice and placed his elbows in front of Clara. She shrugged. "Fries?" She worried her lip.

"I… can't eat anything fried. Sorry." Her chest tightened. Why was she even here, why couldn't Gaster have just dropped her off at her place? Grillby pondered, looking to some undetermined point above Clara's head.

"I've got'cha." Standing up, he walked back towards the presumable kitchen before he let out a whistle with his lower lip. "G!" He tugged his head towards the kitchen. As he left, Gaster returned to Clara's side.

"Sorry about that, haven't seen the people here in a while." He apologized, sitting back at the bar.

"It's okay. You can keep talking to them if you want." Clara nearly whispered. She did not want to be alone, not by any stretch of the word, but she did not wish to be a leash for her superior either.

"No, that's alright. Not much to catch up on between us anyway. Did you order something?" Gaster tried to look under to her face before she looked up questioningly to him.

"I… think I did? He said 'I've got'cha' and left, so I guess so?" Nodding, Gaster smirked as he looked to his drink. Clara did not know much about alcohol, not caring for anything of the sort, but she could have sworn that was mulled wine in his hand; there was distinct heat coming off of it and the hint of cinnamon on her nose. Who has mulled wine on hand at a bar nowadays? A few minutes passed and the bartender returned with two things in hand. A simple burger and fries were placed in front of Gaster, while the other went in front of Clara. Grillby picked up a glass from behind him and began going about his work.

"I hope you don't mind grilled chicken." Indeed, it was a grilled chicken breast on a burger bun, swiss cheese melted over the perfectly cooked meat. He turned and placed a light red drink in front of her as well, a few cherries sinking into their bath. Clara had not had a Shirley Temple in years!

"I do, actually." Suddenly, she was feeling rather pecking, gently taking the meal in her hands and taking a bite. This was more than just a diner sandwich. The chicken was cooked to just the right point where the inside was cooked, but still seeped juices. The cheese was not just some cheap wholesale either, nor were the buns. Gaster smirked at Grillby.

"Done it again, Grillby." Clara looked to him, still chewing on her first real meal in so long. "He has this weird thing where he knows just what to give people who are indecisive. He has yet to get two wrong." He sipped between bites. Grillby's expression dropped.

"It's called intuition, G. It would have been zero wrong if you weren't such a weirdo, ordering a drink from the damn 1940's." He turned to Clara. "He came in one day, not knowing what to have. I had presumed a good quality merlot, but he had asked for mulled wine instead. Mulled wine and a burger!" Grillby exasperatedly gestured towards Gaster's full mouth. "I may own a bar, but even I know that those things do not go together. A steak, perhaps, if you pushed your luck. But someone had to be a tasteless skeleton and ruin my track record." Gaster rolled his eyes.

Time went by as Gaster and Grillby chatted away between customers and bites of food. Eventually, Clara seemed to relax, no longer feeling as though she should be on edge of the other patrons. The background chatter seemed to die down. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, Clara noticed only a few people left in the bar. How late was it? Seeing the two monsters distracted by conversation, Clara slipped her smart phone out of her pocket and saw it was only just before seven. Were there odd rushes that left a dead zone mid-service?

A sudden outburst of music originated from Gaster. Swooping off his seat, he wretched his phone out of his pocket, swiping to answer it, and held up a single finger as he walked a few feet away. Stealing glances at one another, Clara had to inquire to Grillby.

"Was his ringtone… Royalty?" The elemental smirked.

"The hip-hop electric swing song? Yes, yes it was." A look that only screamed 'blackmail' played across his face, causing the 'turtle' to try to hold back giggles. She did not have to for long though, as Gaster's hushed voice told the phone call was not the most uplifting, back turned to the others.

"… You're kidding me… I know, I had jus- yes, I know who they are… I saw… I guess I had just hoped I was wrong… Mm-hm… Okay, thanks, Nadia… I will, I'll be on the lookout… Bye." Swiping his phone to hang-up, Gaster slumped into the empty booth next to him, head in hands. Having not heard Nadia's first name before, Clara had no idea that it had been officer Schnyder. A moment passed and Gaster stood back up, pulling himself back to the bar, but not sitting.

"Hey, uh… Grillbz, can we uh…" He pointed a thumb to the kitchen, keeping his head down as he rubbed his upper lip. Now thoroughly worried, the elemental and turtle shared a concerned look.

"Sure, Gaster. Uh… just… wait here, Clara." Giving an apology, the bartender followed the already departing skeleton.

Grillby found his friend slowly pacing the floor of the kitchen, one arm crossed over his chest, the other still rubbing his lip. He knew this only reeked of bad news.

"What was that about?" Grillby started, speaking calmly knowing Gaster could be on a tipping point here. He kept pacing. "Gaster?" Stepping towards the scientist, Grillby interrupted his path. Looking up from the floor, Gaster closed his eyes, sighed, and walked towards the old two-person couch in the far corner. Grillby often used this to nap between prepping food and opening for service. Grillby followed him, giving him is space as he sat on the far armrest.

"Okay… so… Clara had been drugged earlier today in the labs by someone, we didn't know who, she's fine now but we couldn't find who did it, her former boyfriend is an abusive prick who I wanted to beat the shit out of for how much of an asshole he is, and officer Nadia just called saying they found the drug in his dorm room so he had to have been the one who drugged her, but he never returned to the dorm so we have no idea where he is or what he'll do." Gaster spewed his words, barely taking a breath between hardly coherent sequences. Dropping his head to his chest and sighing, Gaster groaned under his breath.

It took a few seconds for Grillby to register everything that was just said, leaving him dumbfounded.

"Why?" Was all he could say. Gaster wish the reason was a lie, but he knew better.

"She was a threat. If she was drugged, she wouldn't have done well on the exam, thus making his scores seem better. Guess he underestimated just how potent it had been. I doubt his intentions were for her to pass out; most likely to just inhibit her normal thought process." He grabbed each of his arms in the other. He did not know what to feel, or maybe it was that he felt everything at once. Rage, guilt, pity, fear; everything started building up. He had to stop thinking about this too hard, he told himself. Now was not the time to be having a mental breakdown. Afterall, he didn't have mental breakdowns, right? Grillby now sat next to the distraught scientist, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"So what do we do now? Wait?" The way he said it implied that he was above waiting. He had no taste for waiting for things to be safe for his friends; he never had. Gaster seemed to share the same intentions.

"No, but… the police are already doing all they can."

"And what about Clara? She's clearly not safe. If he went to the lengths of drugging her, now that he's being looked for, there's n-"

"You don't have to remind me, Grillby, I know!" Gaster snapped, losing what was left of his patience before bringing it back with another sigh. A silence fell between them.

"… I think I know where he is." Grillby growled. Gaster's head perked up.

"How could you kno-" Interrupting him, Grillby faced his entire body towards Gaster.

"If his intentions were to inhibit Clara, then chances are there are other things that he has done. This will not stop here. He's going to try to do something to keep her quiet, from making his situation worse. If he is controlling of her, I can almost guarantee he has a copy of her keys: car, house, post box. Not to mention if he has access to her bank account. A car is too open and in public, so he will be in her house."

Gaster blankly gawked at Grillby.

"You weren't the general for nothing…" He sighed. "So, do we just keep her from going there?"

"Yes, and no. We know he's there, but he doesn't know a thing about me. With how smart this guy is, he'll listen to the police scanners, so calling the cops is out." Grillby left it there. Gaster knew what his friend had in mind, but was far from happy about it.

"I can't let you put yourse-"

"Then you will put Clara in dange-"

"No, I can't do that either, but… this is your decision, not mine. Just know I'm not happy about it." He mulled, somehow slumping further. With a composed breath, Grillby stood up and held a hand out for his friend. Accepted, Grillby looks Gaster in the eye, and holds his shoulder again.

"I served my people, Gaster, and I still do. I need you there to call the police if need be. You focus on keeping Clara safe, and I'll take care of this guy. Deal?" Gaster turned his head down, his chin curling in on itself. Doing all he could to keep his chin from quivering, he nodded.

"Deal. Just don't do anything stupid, okay?" With a sniff, Gaster embraced his friend, his meaning clear. "Just come out of this alive, damn it."