This was...strange.
Was this death? An endless, dark blackness, where he couldn't feel, hear, see, or sense anything? Being completely and utterly alone?
Yes...this had to be Hell. The Hell he deserved.
But everyone was safe...Alphys saw the part that needed to be replaced...she was smart, and would make sure everything would be fine.
Gods...if only he had enough time left to comfort his children...he didn't want them to see him like that...
Sans...Papyrus...
The blackness around him flickered and seemed to dissolve like ink in water, a hazy light appearing around him. What was this? What was happening? He crept closer to the light, finally, at long last, hearing something. It sounded like muted voices, crying softly.
Who was crying? Why were they crying?
He parted from the blackness and into the light, the brightness blinding him for a moment before it settled into a familiar-looking scene.
Sans and Papyrus were curled up on the couch together, their faces streaked with tears. Papyrus had a red scarf tied snugly around his head, lying down on the cushion, looking lifeless and listless. Sans sat with him, quietly petting his head, not looking any more livelier but trying to be brave.
There they were...his boys...! He glided over, reaching out for them—then drew his hands back when they passed right through their bodies.
No...what was this?! What fresh Hell WAS this!?
In front of him, Sans's breath hitched, looking up and wiping his eyes, looking confused, as though something had snapped him out of his misery. The boy looked around, but saw nothing.
S̵a͠n̷s̴̸..͏.̨͟s̨̛͠on͞,̸̸ ̵̧̀I̸͟͠'́͝m̵̀͝ he̶̛͘r̶̶e͜҉.̨..͘͟͠! Gaster cried, trying to touch his son's skull again, but again, his hand passed right through the boy's form again. Sans reached up and rubbed his head, shaking it before turning back to Papyrus, tucking the scarf more snugly around the younger Skeleton's shoulders.
P̢͘͞a͝p̢̛͡y͏̵̧r̷̸̨u̵͟s.̶͞.͟͠.͢D̵҉ą̧͡d̨̧d҉y'̴̴̛s̴ ̵́͘h҉̀e͜͏̴r͟͝é!̧̡͢ ̶̕ ͞͝Ṕ̛͏l͏eà̸s̕͟e̷̡͠,̷̀ ̵̷̛s̷e͞͞ȩ̴ m̵e.̵̛͜.҉̕҉.̧̀!̸͞ he said, trying to rest his hands on Papyrus's body, to no avail. Papyrus curled up tighter, sniffling.
Why couldn't he touch them? They were right THERE! And it was obvious that Sans felt SOMETHING...!
Gaster looked at his hands, shaking his head in denial. He couldn't just NOT be here! This couldn't be how death worked! If he wasn't dead, and wasn't alive then...
His head shot up, remembering with a jolt his last action before that dark, numb blackness. He had tried to displace HIMSELF, at the same moment he fell into the magma, both of which should have shattered his soul.
He paused, his hands going to his chest as he felt for his soul, feeling a deep numbness when he sensed that he STILL HAD ONE.
So...he WASN'T dead.
Then what WAS he?
Soft voices outside his house broke his musings, and he glided over to the door, and promptly right through it like it wasn't even there. On the other side was Alphys and a few other Monsters, most he recognized as parents from the play date group.
"...so there was no dust to even collect after," Alphys was saying softly, wringing her hands. "...not that I would want there to be, after that."
"Those poor boys," Lava said, liquid fire tears dripping from her eyes. "It was bad enough they lost Gaster, but to witness it...!"
"Sans is being surprisingly strong and mature, considering," Alphys said, glancing back at the door. "...but Papyrus...he...hasn't spoken a word since. It's understandable...he's only five...but I'm worried. I don't even think he's eating or sleeping either." She leaned against the wall. "...I don't know what to do."
Lava glanced at the door. "...Kelvin and I will be moving to Snowdin soon...perhaps...a change in scenery is what they need right now. A new start. We would be happy to take them in."
"Are you sure, Lava?" another Monster asked, looking wary. "I've...heard rumors of what happens when they become upset...I mean, Naiad—"
"Sparks accidentally sets things on fire when he overexerts himself, and Grillby used to become an inferno when he threw a tantrum! Untrained magic can be dangerous, and I don't blame them a bit!" Lava snapped. "It was an accident, what happened to Naiad. That's all there is to it."
Alphys sighed. "All that aside," she cut in, "we need to talk to the boys first...I don't want to cause anymore damage than has already been done." She opened the door and went back inside, running back out moments later. "THEY'RE GONE!"
WHAT!?
Gaster hurried back inside, seeing that Sans and Papyrus weren't on the couch anymore. He panicked. Where were they!? WHERE HAD THEY GONE TO!?
Almost at the moment he thought that, he was yanked back into the blackness and then thrust forward into a new light, looking around after the disorientating trip to see that he was just off the edge of the garbage dump in Waterfall.
The image was almost nostalgic; he recalled coming here with Sans and Papyrus when Papyrus was still a baby bones, to root around the place for something to entertain the boys with. It was a time before the play group, when he wanted as few as possible to know about his sons' existences.
The air here was cool and serene, a literal breath of fresh air after being in Hotlands for so long. Papyrus even stayed quiet the whole trip, lost in the serenity of the place, making a fuss only when he saw something in the piles he wanted.
Sound to his left made him turn to investigate, feeling a heavy sense of relief when he saw Sans and Papyrus in a tucked-back crevice by the cavern wall, Sans having pilfered a large umbrella and angled it so it made a makeshift lean-to.
"It's okay, bro," Sans said, tugging a blanket out of a backpack and tucking it around his little brother. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." He patted Papyrus's skull and shifted out of the little shelter, searching around nearby piles for anything of use.
Gaster felt a heaviness in his soul; he knew Sans was afraid of what would happen to him and Papyrus now that he was gone, and took them to the next safest place he knew of.
Heh...he KNEW Sans could teleport...
But his children were here now, holing up in the garbage dump like vagabonds...and there was nothing he could do to help them.
As Sans picked through the piles, Gaster gently glided over to Papyrus, settling down close to him, at least happy he could be so near even if he couldn't touch them. He wanted nothing more than to take Papyrus's pain away, to erase the sight of seeing his death from the boy's mind for good.
I͜ ̴̵͜a̸̡m ͏s̀͢ơ͠͠ ̷̡s͏o͘͢r̛͝ry͏̢,̀ ̡̨P̸a̢͘͜p̛y̵̢͝ŕ̡͘u̶s̢͠.̷.́. he said softly, petting at the air around Papyrus's head. He sighed when Papyrus gave no indication of hearing and sat back, pausing when something caught his eye.
Sans had stood upright, his hands clutching an over-sized blue jacket, staring at a nearby echo flower with an expression that could only be described as 'seeing the dead'. Gaster frowned when Sans began looking around wildly, stepping around some piles.
"...Dad...?" Sans called out quietly, his voice shaking. Gaster stood up, gliding over to him, standing right in front of him, even.
S͏̀͟a̴͘ǹ͢s̀.̵̡́.͏̷.̀͢c͡a̷̢̢n̢ ҉̵͏y̡o͢u͝ ̸̢͜h́͟e͞͞ą̀̕r ̡m̵̵ę̸͞.͏͡..̛?̵͞҉ he murmured in amazement. Instead of looking at HIM, Sans's head jerked back in the direction of the echo flower before he ran over to it, his shaking hands hovering over it, not knowing what to do.
"Dad...!" Sans choked out, tearing up. "Dad...is that you? Dad...?"
Gaster suddenly understood. Somehow...the echo flowers were picking up on his words, even though what was separating him from this world was keeping him from being heard normally. He quietly glided over to the other side of the flower.
S͜͝a̴̢͢n͏s҉.̴̴.҉̛͞.͢Í͢͝ ̛a͜͟m͝͝ ̕̕͠hè͟͟r̨͜e̵͘.̕͜
Sans choked up, a hand covering his mouth. "...Dad..." he gasped, then went silent for a moment. Da͡d.̕.̛.̀w͜h̡ęre ͠ar͞e̶ y͘ou͝? he asked, switching to the Skeleton language. Smart boy, Gaster thought, smiling. In case the echo flowers could relay Sans's words elsewhere in Waterfall.
I͡ ̡̕a͘҉͟m ̕͏h҉̶e̷r҉e͜,͞ Sa̛ǹ͜s̀...̴͏bu̸͝t̕͠ ̵I̶̧̧ ̧͜a̡͡m ҉̢n҉̸ơt̵́ h́e̴͜ŗ̧́e͠҉. ̕ ̧I̢͢t̵̛ ̨̛i̧͏s̡͠.̷́͘.͏.̴҉d̴͘͠i͘ff̷͜͜i͘͝c̵̀͘u͏̢͟l҉t ͜t͡o ̕e͏͢͡x̴͜͞p͡l̕a͡i̵͜͜n͟. He sighed, shaking his head. W̸̸e ҉a̵r͘͝ę̨ ̸̸s͡é̶̴pa͟r͘a̴͘t̕e̢͠d͠ ̡bý ̛͞͏so͏ḿ͞e͘thí̧҉n҉͘͘g̕,̴ ͡S҉án͢͠s͏͞.͠..̛́s̷ǫ͘m҉̷e̶t̕͡h̛͢i҉҉̶n͟g̷ ̨I͝ ̵͘͝c̴͠a͢͟͞nǹot̵ b͘r͘͜e҉̷a̢͞k̕͞͝ ̀͢͞t͢͝͞h̀͡͡r̵̸͠oú͡ģ́h̴̕͠.҉
Sans dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. I͢.̢..̨don't͘ un͏d̷ęrs̨tand͏...! he cried, his shoulders shaking. D͠a͡d̡.҉..I d̡oǹ't k͝now ͞w͡ha̴t̵ t͘o ̷do! ̵ Y̶ou'̸re̸ ͟n̡ot̀ ͡h̛e̴r̨e̷,͏ ͏D̵a̢d...͜Í don'҉t k͜n̛ow ҉wh̵at ̴to̧ do! He looked around helplessly. P̡a͏p͞yrus̵.̢..he̴...he ̷won't̡ ́e̴a͞t..͘.̶.̨hè woǹ'͠t̷ ͝talk.͝..͡.I̛ c͢an feel̢ ̸hi̴s҉ sou̧l g͡et̀ti̧ng weaḱer͏ ͡a̷n̨d ̡we̕aker͞.̵.͠.a̛nd̷...̷ He let out a fresh sob. ..͟.̀I ̛do̧n't͏ ̡kǹow wha̴t I c͝a͟n̨ d͘o t͘o ̡maḱe͢ him ͞b͝etter!͜ ͞ I̢ NEED y̶ou,͠ D͠ad!͜ W͘E ne͟e̵d yo͢ù!
Gaster dropped down in front of Sans, his hands hovering over the small Skeleton's form. .̵͘͞.͘..͠I̴͘͠ c̵a҉ǹ̡'҉t͏ ̧b͏̨̛e̴ ̵̴he̕͟r̶͟͡e̴͟ ́̀ţ̧o̴̷ d͏͏o ́́́wh̨̛͝ąt̢̛ ̨I͡ ͜͞w͞͞a̶͠n͞ţ̛͏,̵̛ ̀S̴͟an͏́s.͏͠.̵͠. he said softly. B͏u̴̢t͟͡.̕..if̡ y̨o͞ư̴ w̕͞͝á͜ǹt to ̛́h̸̸̡e͏͝l͢p͟͡ P̛͟͝ap̢͝y̵͢rù͟s̶̡.̨.҉.̴I̧ ̴̡̨knǫ͞͞w̷͠ ̵̕h̴ow҉ ̵͢͡y͜o̢̧u ͝͞҉c҉a͏͞n̡.͟
Sans looked up, his gaze focusing on the flower, but to Gaster's position, it looked like he was looking him in the face. Tell ͏m͞e͞.͟..!͜ he said firmly. F͞òr ́Pap҉yru͜s.҉..te͝lĺ m̀e.͜.͜.h̡o҉w̵ I͡ c̸an h̀elp͏ ͞P̡a͟pyr̢us̀.̧.͝!
Gaster brushed his hands through Sans's skull, wishing the motion could do more than be a ghost's intangible touch. E̸̴͜r͝a̡sę͠ ̛͟͝m͡͝e̴͞ ́͠҉f̕r͟͠͏om̀͡ ̛h̀͡į̀͜ś͢ ̶m҉e̢͝m̷͏or̡y he said, his voice full of sad determination. Ẁh̛at̡ h̸e ̷́̕w̵̢i̕̕͟ll͏ ̶̡͠h͏̨á̡v̵e̕ ͞͏̶a̶̕͢r͞e̶ ́̕me͘m̛̕͝oŕ͝i̛̕ȩ͟͡s ͢of a̸̧ h̴͏a̢̢p͜͟py̡͝ ͘҉̸c͞͠ḩ̀́i͡l̷d͏͟h̸̸͢o̵ơ͟͟d̸̢͟,̸̴̴ ̛w̵̴i͡t̸͏h̨ ͟h̷̨͝iś͘ b̶͘͟i̵͞g ̴̀br̷̸òt̸̛ḩ͞e̸͟r̛ ̧͜͢Sán̷̶s.̴̧͜ ̡͜ T̨͜h̀a̕t̴ ̷̧͡i̢s͝ ̸͢͝àl̀l̀̕ ̴h͝e͟͞ ͏͘͝w͟͠i̶̧̢l̵̵l ̡n͏e͏e̴̕d.̶̵
Sans looked horrified at the idea. D͠a͠d͢.̸...ǹo͜..҉.̷! he cried. I͘ c҉o͠u̵l͢dn̢'t d͘o͢ ͡tha͠t̨ to̵ him! ͢Pa̢p҉y͟ŗus̕ ͢l͜o͜ve͢s͢ yo͢u mo͘re ̨th҉an̢ ͠any͘th̕ing in͏ th̛e ẃorld!̡ It̢ ̷wo͜uld҉ ̢K̛I̸LL̀ h̛i̵m̡ ̨to ĺơs͘e͠ ͡y͘oų ͘l̸i̧ke th̸at!̸
Gaster felt tears run down his face, reaching down and touching just above Sans's soul lightly, seeing Sans's hands fly to that very area. H͡e͏̴̡ ̴͘c̛̛a͠n̵̕͝n̴o̡͏͘t̶͘ ̸̨̕m̧ì̴͟s̀s̕ ̕w͟h̵a̶̸t̶͢ ̸͘h̡͜͡e͠ d͡o̸͠͝e͢͜s̶̛ ͏̀no̷̶̡t ́͘͞re̴m̵̸̨e͢m̀͡be̢͟ŕ. he said softly. F̕͏o̷͢r̸ ̧̧͜hi̷m͟ ̷ţ̀ó̸͞ ̡͜͠b̸͟ȩ̵ ̸h̷a҉́͘pp̷y͏̕,̢̡ ͡įt̨ ̶͜is̷̢ ̀̕a ̛͢s͝a̴̶͏ḉri̷̛f̴͘i̶c͢è͏̷ ̵̡I ͜a͜m̡ ̧͟͡w҉ì̧l̶l̷i̷͢n͜͝g̨͡ ̶t͏͏o͜ ͞͡m̕ąké̴͞.
Sans wiped his eyes, crying harder. Ţh̨is ìsn't͢ ̶FAI̸R!́ he snapped. H͞a̕ven't ̵y̕o͞u̡ suffe͜red ͏ENOU̷G̸H̸, ̀Dad͟!?
N͠o͏t ̨͞n̡e͘ar̢l̶y̢ é͞n̸̡o̸̡u͜͠g̸̶h̶͝,͘͡ ̕͟to̧̡ ́̕a҉to͠ǹe̢ ̀̀f̴o͝͏r my̶͝ ̴ş̀i̢͝ns͡ Gaster replied quietly. B͜u̷̸̧t͡ ̕̕̕sée҉i̵͞ng̶҉ ̸̧y͟o̢̢̕ư͠ ͡a̛͜n̵d͞ ̴̀͘Pa͡p̶͡yr̨̨u҉͘s̶̢̧ ̀b̸e͜͟͢ ̕̕͜h͏̡a̛̕p̶p̡̡y̵͠ ͡w̷͠i͟ll̴ ̸͟b̡e r̸̕e̢w̶͝a̴̛͠r͜d̶ ͞͞͠e͠n͘͢͏ǫ̛͞u͏g̕h̶͢. He pressed his fingers through Sans's rib cage and touched at the soul, actually FEELING it flicker to his fingertips. Sans gasped, his bones shaking. Ỳ̧o͘͝u̢҉ ̨k̡n͟o̴͘w ́͢w͘͘h̷͟à̴͢t ̸̢͡to̸̢͢ ̢d͜o̸,̶̵ ̨S̴͏a̶̡n̶͞s͡.
Sans's face slid into the eerily-knowledgeable expression that Gaster knew to be when Sans was using his inherited knowledge, watching as the boy stood up and silently walked over to the umbrella lean-to, kneeling in front of Papyrus. He put his hand over Papyrus's chest, summoning out the soul and placing his fingertips over it gently.
"...'m sorry, Paps..." he whimpered. "...but...this will make things...alright...!" With a flicker of his will, Sans delved into Papyrus's soul and wiped it clean of all memories of Dr. Wingdings Gaster.
Gaster turned away, willing himself to be dragged back into that dark, merciless Void, not bearing to be present when Papyrus woke up and would not know about him. He was so happy knowing Papyrus would be alright...and at the same time anguished that he would never be a part of that happiness ever again.
END PART 1
