Chapter 9: Her Voice
Drowsy and spent, Grillby drove them home, only to find a black Maserati in the driveway and Gaster sitting on the steps.
"There you are!" Gaster said as he approached the two as they got out. "Wow… who beat you up?"
"Undyne…" That was all he needed to hear, recalling how he worried for his son, Papyrus, when he went for training lessons with her. "Why're you here?"
"Good to see you too. I told you I'd stop by." He looked to Clara, who was carrying several bags of clothes. "How're you doing, dear?" She nodded, also exhausted, but suddenly perked up.
"Gaster! Do you know Alphys?" She held out the number Undyne had given her.
"Alphys, yes, of course! She's brilliant in her work. Why do you ask?" He asked.
"O-Oh… I wanted to talk to her. Undyne said that… that she worked for you and…" Gaster smiled.
"Wanna meet her? You can come with me to the labs tomorrow. Your car is… still there…" He added, a little guilty that he kept forgetting about that. "You'll like her, I think."
"I-I don't want to-"
"It's not a bother." Gaster smiled petting her head, as Clara returned the smile, excited to meet someone for once. Perhaps Gaster will be able to ask her about working for him again.
Heading inside, Grillby slumped into his recliner, propping his, now swollen, foot up. Clara went into her room, happy that she can start filling her closet with clothes. She hadn't seen her closet so full of clothes in three whole years! It gave her a sense of pride as she placed her accessories and jewelry in a drawer. She sat there on her bed, looking at them for a few minutes.
Gaster had noticed the clothes when they walked in, and decided to question Grillby about it in a whisper.
"What clothes did she get?" Grillby gave a disgusted look to him.
"You fucking perv!"
"No, no, I mean… Okay, look. She can't wear anything formfitting." Grillby rolled his eyes.
"She's not a kid, she can wear what she wants."
"True, but she's sick, Grillbert, you know that. If she wears tight clothes, it will only provoke her to want to lose more weight. You should have asked me before getting them."
"I can't ask you if every little thing is okay." Gaster sighed, knowing this was on him.
"I'm sorry, you're right. Okay, things like tight clothes, magazines, celebrity tv shows, diet or exercise videos-"
"Wait, magazines?"
"Yes. Especially, magazines. Unlike tv or videos, those are all photoshopped. Nothing is real. Have you ever taken a good look at those pictures? It's pretty messed up…" Giving him a look, Grillby went to go find one… but he realized that he only had cooking magazines... Instead, he looked up 'fashion magazine woman' on his phone. Scrolling through till he found a full body photo of a woman in a swimsuit, he looked carefully at it. Her face was thin, but her cheeks didn't cave in like Clara's did. Her thighs didn't touch, her legs perfectly proportioned, but did not have boney knees like Clara. Their stomachs were thin and waists tiny, but not a single rib or vertebra showed. 'Grillby… I could count her vertebra.' Williams words echoed sickeningly in his head.
"I just… No person could look like this, it's impossible." He whispered. Gaster kept quiet. "She… Does she think she looks like this?"
"I'm not blind." Looking up, Clara was leaning against her door, facing away towards the kitchen. "I know what I look like, I know that it's all fake and photoshopped. I'm not stupid…" She wanted to say more, but didn't know what. The three of them were silent for a while. Gaster sat up a little more.
"Clara, I hear what you're saying. I will never truly understand it, having never gone through it, but I hear what you're saying." He got up, making his way to her with his head down and his hands in his pockets. "You're not blind, and you're not stupid… You know this is wrong… but, you just can't quit it… Or is it that it can't quite you?" Clara looked around her shoulder to him, her face mournful. She could tell he knew what he was doing, and that frightened her. No, it frightened her. "It's like you're two different people. But the real you is saying this is wrong-"
"It's not!" Clara barked.
"It is, listen to yourself." He took her arms firmly as she began to cry. "You know the truth, and yeah, it fucking sucks. Clara, don't shut yourself out." Her eyes were closed, trying to scrunch away from him, but the doorway and his hands were trapping her. Yeah, Clara, don't shut me out. "You're not alone, there's others who have gotten out of thi-"
"I don't want out!" Good…
"Shut up, and listen to me!" The doctor screamed at her. Grillby wanted to rip him off of her, but knew better. This is the 'nastier' part that he meant, and could see why. "That fucking bitch who keeps telling you to not eat is wrong! I'm talking to you, Clara, not her! You need to get better, you're sick-"
"Stop!"
"Do you want to end up back in the hospital?"
"Just go away, leave me alone!" Get him out of here!
"Answer me!"
"No, stop it!" There is no 'you and me,' we're the same person. She was full on crying now.
"'No' to what, Clara?"
"Stop!" She tried to thrash away again, only to stop.
"What are you saying 'no' to?" Make him leave!
"I don't want to!"
"Talk to me, Clara, 'don't want to' what?"
"I don't want to do this anymore, I want it to stop, I hate it!" What are you doing? Her head dropped down as she sucked on short breaths, quieting. He quieted with her.
"What is 'it,' Clara, you need to say it." Take back what you said…
"I wanna eat again…" You ruin everything… She whispered through sobs. Gaster softened his grip and lowered his voice even more to a calming whisper.
"Why do you want to eat?"
"It hurts not to, I'm so hungry, but I don't want to gain weight."
"It's okay, Clara, you're not healthy like this."
"But it's ugly-" Gaster grabbed Clara again and pulling her into the bathroom. Now you've done it… Grillby silently walked in sight of them, but at a distance. Gaster let go of her, blocking the door.
"Take your shirt off." She backed up.
"I…" Go ahead, let him see you, gorgeous. That way he can lock us up.
"Clara, please." Sniffing, she took off Fuku's shirt. She was just as bad as Gaster thought, even having never seen her body before. Grillby made some noise that was muffled by his hand from the other room when he saw her. The doctor's face grimacing slightly, his strong desire to help her fueling his harsh words. Gaster forcefully yanked her to stand in front of him, in front of the mirror. "This is what's ugly. There's nothing 'beautiful' about this. Your skin is yellow, your eyes are sunken, your nails are brittle, your hair is frail, I can see the outline of your stomach for fuck's sake… This isn't beautiful. This isn't 'pretty' or 'cute,' Clara. This is sick. This is what this is doing to you. Do you want to die?" The harsh tone shook her.
"I…"
"Do you want to die, Clara?"
"…" The silence broke him with every second. He hoped with every part of him that she would say 'no.' He has had patients say yes, and they never made it. Not. One. What Gaster would give to be able to hear her thoughts. Instead, Clara's knees gave out as she screamed in sobs. Gaster caught her practically weightless form and lowered her down, holding her close as he leaned against the tub.
"Shh, it's alright, I'm here. But answer my question."
"I don't want to." She bawled against him, shivering. He grabbed a towel that was draped over the edge of the tub and wrapped it over her shoulders.
"Have you ever wanted to?" Gaster could barely understand her.
"No-Not since y-you an-and Grill-Grillby…" Grillby couldn't stand this anymore and started to walk up, but a glare from the doctor stopped him where he was. He wasn't finished yet. Gaster rocked her in his arms.
"That's good, Clara, remember that. We're not going anywhere. You're safe now. You can finally start to get better. You can finally eat again, be happy, no more pain. Do you want that?" Quieting a little as he soothed her, she nodded against him. Smiling, he sat up and held her chin to make sure she saw it. This only made her cry more, but it was different. It was a good cry, a healthy one. Holding her, Gaster rocked her again. "Don't forget this, okay? Shh, I'm right here, I'm here. That bitch isn't coming back."
Clara choked out a laugh at his comment, sitting up to look at him and wipe her eyes. Gaster pointedly glanced at Grillby, still smiling softly. Clara looked to him, as he came to kneel next to her. Before he was even down, Clara lunged into his arm, nearly strangling him with her gasp. Now it was Grillby's turn to be emotional. Falling back onto his rear and with her between his legs, Grillby held her as tight as he could, sputtering cries till he was sobbing into her boney shoulder. He had his Clara, his real Clara, even if it was only for the moment. She was less of a turtle and more of… a rabbit. A small, silent animal who had endless love and passion to give. His little, spring rabbit.
Finally out of tears, Grillby lifted his head from her shoulder. She smiled at how his eyes were redder and puffy, how his nose was also red and runny, how his mouth really did resemble a cartoon of a sad puppy. Gaster handed him a box of tissues, which he took one, only to realize he did, in fact, need the box. Clara slid out from between him, rubbing her own eyes for a moment. While Grillby composed himself, Gaster took Clara's hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb.
"Feeling a little better, dear?" She nodded.
"Thanks." Oddly, Gaster rarely heard this from his patients, never able to be there after they're better.
"It will never be a problem." He would have added that they care for her, but did not feel that it was necessary to say. "Although, Clara?" She knew this meant something she didn't want to hear. "I am going to have to go through your things for anything you're not suppose to have, okay?" She didn't have much, so what harm could it do?
"Okay." Gaster smiled
"Thank you." He leaned forwards and gave a gentle kiss on her forehead before stepping around the emotional wreck in the doorway. Seeing him pass, Grillby looked up to Clara, his lips quivering, threatening to spill sobs again, but he just smiled through it. Both of them standing, they went to follow Gaster into Clara's room, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He started from one end to the other, going through her nightstand, under her bed and mattress, dresser, then her closet. She was happy to see he didn't take any of her jewelry, but did take out the two belts she had, understandably. Sifting through the closet, he went through each article of clothing. Three shirts and one pair of pants were removed.
"U-Uh… they're okay, right?" Clara stammered, suddenly feeling very possessive. Gaster knelt down and went through anything in the bottom of the closet. Standing, he took the belts and the clothes, setting them beside her.
"Okay, here's the deal. The belts are an obvious no. The clothes… I know this is hard, but you can't wear anything formfitting for now, okay?" He felt like he was taking away a child's favorite toy, and that's exactly what Clara's face looked like at this moment.
"B-But…" She stopped herself from looking through the clothes. That shirt was her favorite one, and she only had three set of pants. With a huff she pushed them of the bed like a disgruntled child. "Fine, whatever." Dramatically, she crossed her arms. Gaster scooped up the clothes and belts and gave her another forehead kiss. At least she wasn't throwing a massive fit… something he's seen far too much of to handle professionally at this point. One patient even went so far as to try to bite him. Bone on bone was never a good idea.
Following him again, Clara watched as he put the belts into his messenger bag, and laid the clothes neatly on top of it. He turned to see her begrudgingly staring at them.
"Not gonna take away my phone, put me in house arrest?" Grillby came up and hugged her crossed arms from behind, resting his chin on her head, sounding stoned out of his mind.
"Clara, be nice." She groaned to herself and walked out of his grasp, flopping onto the couch. Gaster felt guilty, of course, but he went and sat right next to her. Trying to ignore him, she turned on the tv, scrunching her legs up to her chest. Grillby had had enough of this emotion for one day, and went to his stress reliever: cooking.
"So, do you still want to come to the labs with me tomorro-"
"I'm not talking to you." He saw that coming.
"You know, Undyne probably told Alphys about you alre-"
"I said, I'm not talking to you."
"Okay, okay. Poor Alphys, thou-"
"Ugh! Fine! Yes! I'll go! Happy?" Indeed, he was. With a smile, he stayed quiet as they watched tv. Gaster was always an amazement to Grillby. A true introvert, yet his people skills were incredible. He could probably convince the president to give him the nuclear detonation button if he tried hard enough. That's a thing, right? It's in so many movies. Grillby knew rather little when it came to the political and governmental side of humans, almost laughably uneducated. This was something that became a running joke back at the police station when Grillby accidentally said something he heard in a show once. How was he supposed to know that there was no such thing as a Zombie Apocalypse Sector? It was all over their culture, so there had to be something about it politically, right? Turns out, a year after he left, he found several articles about how there actually is a governmental zombie plan! He smirked a little, remembering this.
They all sat down for a dinner of chicken teriyaki and rice mixed with vegetables. Of course, Clara picked the vegetables out of the starchy rice and ate them. She nudged the rice around and completely ignored the chicken. She couldn't have eaten any more than a quarter of a cup of food. Grillby got up and gave Clara a serving of the vegetables that were not mixed in with the rice. Trying to hide her annoyance, she cut them into smaller pieces and slowly ate them. She was eating, and that's all they could do.
Only two bites into the second serving of vegetables, Clara felt her throat tighten dangerously, her stomach heaving in protest. She didn't want this, she was eating too much, she was going to be sick, but they'll just make her eat again. Was this her? Who was she, which voice was really her again? In her confusion, she did not realize that she'd been staring off into space.
"You alright, hon?" Looking to Gaster, Clara felt the nausea return. She was still annoyed at him for taking her clothes, of course, but the sympathy and understanding he showed battled that. She just looked back at her plate, now nudging the vegetables around. All she could focus on was the disgusting chewing, the horrible sounds. How did they not hear that, how were they able to eat that? Having just about enough, Clara decided to take her plate and go outside. Neither men knew what to do about this, both baffled.
"Ever seen that before?" Grillby asked.
"No… but I don't think it was bad… I think." Getting up, Gaster peeked out the glass of the front door. Clara was sitting on the steps, her head in one hand and fork in the other. He was pleasantly shocked to see she was trying to eat the rice, the starchy, carb-loaded rice. Not wanting to be seen, he walked back to his plate.
"… So that's it, you're not gonna say anything?"
"She's fine, there's nothing to say." A small smile teased at his eyes. Grillby looked absently at his plate.
"So… who was 'her?' You made it sound like she was schizophrenic." He asked worryingly. Gaster immediately began rushing a wave at him while he finished a bite.
"No, absolutely not! I must make that very clear! It is not a hallucination or anything like that. What it is, is that she is conflicted, and we all have our own personal monologues in our heads. Because she's so conflicted to this degree, it's that she is literally battling with herself as to which side of her to listen to. One side wants to be anorexic or bulimic. The other knows better. Most people who have an eating disorder have this second 'voice,' but what makes it different is that they can control it, as difficult as it may be. A few of my patients have unfortunately named it their 'Ana voice,' spelled 'A-N-A…' I don't like that they name it. It's not a person, and it never will be." He glowered at his plate.
"Ana?"
"Short for 'Anorexia.' I've been fighting these Pro-Anas for a while now." The elemental nodded, ignoring the last comment as they silently went back to what was left of their meal.
It had to have been close to half an hour since Clara had gone outside, not a single word or sound. Finished cleaning up from dinner, Grillby decided to take a peek as well. She was now leaning against the wall of the house behind the door, legs drawn up and head cradled in her arms. The plate, with an untouched chicken, a third of the rice, and only a few bits of vegetables, was on the furthest side of the steps from her. Deciding to take some water with him, something he was rather cautious about, he slowly opened the door. She didn't move as Grillby sat down next to her, looking up to the setting sky. It was several minutes of silence of Clara feeling the heat radiating off of him, coddling herself, and Grillby looking from her to the sky.
"You know," He started. "The sunset was always my favorite part of the surface. That's why I chose this house. It's the perfect view." His house was rather lonesome, not another house for at least half a mile, along a forlorn road, overlooking a tree farm. He thought he saw her peek up a little. "When the sun went down, the fighting stopped, we knew we were alive for another day, and we could sleep, pretending that everything was okay for those few hours." Even though she stayed silent, Grillby placed his arm around her, scooting till her was against her. He swore he could feel her lean a little against him. "But now, I'm not so sure. Since coming back, I've enjoyed being awake. I can work at my bar, see my friends, see the sky, see you." She tensed up a little. For a moment, the thought that he was far too ancient for her passe- No, nope, not a thing, nope. Shut up. What point was he getting at?
Clara leaned into him now, and after few moments, wrapped her arms around his chest. Before he could return the gesture, she got up, collected the plate, and headed inside. Following her, he saw her abandon the plate on the counter before sitting on the couch next to Gaster. She was leaned against him too, hugging him a second, before retreating for her room. The monsters looked to each other. They were not sure what all this meant. Grillby felt a pang in his soul.
He opened the door a crack, seeing her lying on her bed in the dark.
"You okay, turtle?" She tucked her head down a little. "Wanna talk?" No response. She could see the orange glow on the wall she stared at grow brighter, till she felt the bed sink to one side. "Still mad at Gaster?" A slow head shake. "Conflicted?" Clara nodded this time, her feet twisting around themselves. "That's okay. Sorry that I don't know a lot about this stuff. I may be old as hell, but I've never met anyone going through what you are. I guess it's a more… modern issue, huh?" She looked over her shoulder slightly at him before looking down in thought.
"How old are you?" Grillby wasn't sure. All those years in the underground seemed to lump together. "Well… I was 163 when the war star- don't give me that look, that's like fourteen to human years!" He bashfully had a shade of blue across his nose. She was already in disbelief. "M-Monsters don't age like you do, especially not elementals. We only really die from… outside influences." He had to take a stammered breath after saying this. "I-uh… Fire elementals in particular are rather prone to those influences. Wind, water, smothering… I-It's a really painful death. We call it Dowsing… Instead of turning to just dust, like other monsters, we turn to dust and ash. And, during the war, we had very little protection from all that…" He realized he was rambling, something he found himself doing when he thought back on that point in his life. "Anyway, the war was… 132 years? Something like that. So, I was in my 180's then. I was so young… shoved into the dark. For all I knew, we had limited air, and being a fire, I took up a lot of it. Being underground… I was in my 500's on the… and… so, 1,865…" Clara's eyes got wider the more he talked. But he's so… I thought he was in his 30's. "So, I guess I'm in my… 2,560's? I think that's right." He looked from the numbers he imagined in the air to Clara. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad! Asgore is, like 4,000 something! Hold on…" Grillby got up and shouted from the door. "Yo, G, how old are you?"
"Rude!" Screamed back. "… 2,400 or something…"
"You are not younger than me!" Grillby marched out pointedly. Clara had to see this! "I met you in the war and you were older."
"You were older, that's why you hung out with Ember and all."
"Because they were elementals, not because we were the same age. That's ridiculous!"
"Well, Script was my age, and he was younger than you."
"No, you liked to preten' that you two were the same age. Script was on'y 123, an' I remem'er that 'cause he was exactly 40 years youn'er than me to the day." The elemental's accent seeped through again.
"Ah-ah-ah, not true!"
"Yes, true! How 'bout ya' do some car-bone datin' there, bone-bag!"
"Indeed, I shall, firefly!" Grillby huffed away, seeing Clara thoroughly amused.
"Oh, Clara! Sorry 'bout that." Realizing his accent, he cleared his throat. "S-Sorry about that." He enunciated. The scientist snickered behind him.
"What's wrong, Grillbz, age stuck in your throat? Got a little drawl there?" Something flashed across Grillby's face as he spun back around.
"Heshta ekeshtek!"
"Ooo, tough guy." Gaster teased. So, it was a different language that Clara occasionally thought she heard. Clearly, Gaster understood him.
"Tsk, neyahakta tch hekshet." Grillby sat in his recliner, looking a little triumphant as Gaster stayed silent. Clara sat in between the two. "Oh, s-sorry, Clara. I forgot that you don't know ancient elemental… It, er… slips over my tongue once in a while."
"It's pretty…" was all she could say as she sat down closest to him, causing him to blush a little.
"T-Thanks. A lot of humans find it… abrasive, is the word, I think. Hah, someone said it reminded them of ancient Egyptian. Please…"
"No, it's more… native sounding? Like if a fire actually could talk."
"… Clara…" Gaster gave her an amused look. "Really? He's a walking fireball, you just described every fire elemental in existence." Now Clara blushed, but Grillby just nodded slowly.
"But she's right. That's how we communicated, especially when we couldn't see the other's flames, which became a problem wh- nevermind…" She now perked up.
"When what? Come on, please!" Gaster shot up in his seat.
"Oh my stars, Grillbz, you're blue! Hah hah hah!" The elemental's entire face, flames on his head and all were now a bright blue through his hands, a little frantic in their movements.
"N-Nothing! It's nothing at all!" He looked past his hands to Clara, now avidly leaning over the armrest at him. She was so happy, excited even. "Fine…" He crossed his arms and looked away, thoroughly ashamed at how quickly he let his emotions be visible. "Before an elemental is associated into society, we tend to just stay grouped in our own 'firepits,' if you want to call it that. We were fire, we didn't need clothes; and it inhibited our ability to communicate. The flames on our bodies told what we wanted to say. We don't need a language technically, but our flames scared other monsters… Especially the forest elementals… Stupid fabric bullshit…" Looking back to the armrest, Clara looked a little mortified, and he felt self-conscious. "W-What?"
"S-So wait… so like… you would… Okay, I don't get it…"
"No one really does anymore, turtle, don't worry about it. It's a form that was lost because of how we had to develop in the underground. And, of course, stupid humans think it's 'indecent' to not wear clothes. Phft, bullshit." Even though he had not realizing that he indirectly insulted Clara, she did not seem to care, too lost in thought. He was glad that she didn't find it 'morally disgusting' as some humans call it. 'Naked children in a pit? You horrible, vile thing, how could you do that to your children?' He grimaced thinking of how little the humans understood his culture, so he had decided to keep it to himself after coming to the surface again. Like it was any different from a crib or play pen?
"So, it's like how your flames are colored, or like the heat, or…?" Grillby sighed. She was thinking so far into it, it was not even entertaining. Getting up, he went to his room and returned without his shirt. Gaster paid no mind, far too use to this habit that he had to even notice. Clara, though, had to do a double take. For a 2,500-year-old being he was… definitely fit. She shielded her eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. That was a punishable offense.
"It's fine, I wanted to show you what I meant."
"I'm good, thanks!" Now he was really self-conscious, looking down on himself. What was wrong with him? He looked like the other fit guys at the gyms and on tv, just with an orange layer of fire. Was it just that he was shirtless? Oh geez…
"You know, I thought you'd have been old enough to be out of this prudish phase." He teased. Clara looked over her fingers so she could only see his face. "Most people are fine with it by high school, but it's fine." He stuck his hands in his pockets, slowly walking back towards his room.
"I-It's not that!" Now he was smug, a crooked smile scrunching one eye.
"Yes?"
"I-It's not right to look…"
"Even when I give you permission?" He held his hands out at his sides as if to invite her.
"Oh shut it!" She hid back behind her hands as Grillby laughed back into his room. Hearing him leave, Clara grabbed her coat. "I-I need to make a phone call…" She told Gaster before stepping into the cold night air. "Shit…" Pulling out her phone, she brought up Officer Schnyder's number that Grillby had given her.
"… … …"
"Hello, Captain Schnyder."
"H-Hey, Officer Schnyder, u-um, it's Clara Avery."
"Avery! Is everything alright?"
"Y-Yeah, I was just wondering something. D-Do you have Undyne's number? If she's not busy; I just wanted to… talk, I guess." There was a slow pause.
"I can transfer you if you'd like, but are you sure everything is alright? What's this about?" Just transfer me! Please!
"N-Nothing! Just… girl stuff." She's a girl too, dummy! A small laugh could barely be heard.
"O-kay!" She sang. There was something knowing in that tone before the line cut to another. There's no way she could tell, right?
"Yo', Undyne here!"
"U-Undyne! It's Clara."
"Hey, what's up, punk? Oh, sorry about before, got a little excited."
"I-It's okay. Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot, kid!"
"Uh…" What was she doing? Why would she tell someone this, and someone they knew? "S-So I have a question…"
"Well, yeah, you kinda already said that. What's got ya,' kid?" Now you're in for it.
"S-So… Grillby was explaining something to me and I didn't get it, so he tried to show me, but I don't know, I just…"
"Kid… What did he show you…?" An ominous growl came through the phone.
"Something about how elemental communicated, and he was shirtless and… I don't know." Undyne relaxed a little.
"So, what's the problem? He does that a lot, by the way, especially during the summer. He says that it's more 'acceptable' then."
"He does? He hasn't since I've been around… Well, now I feel bad…" Was she making him feel like he couldn't do what he wanted in his own house?
"Oh, trust me, kid! He'd be full blown naked if no one was around if he could!"
"Undyne!" Bellowing laughter hit Clara's eardrum.
"Well, it's true! That man hates clothes, but he decided if he was gonna wear them, they needed to at least have style. So, wait, what was your point again?"
"Um… I just don't know what to do about it… like… I feel bad looking away, and he looks really nice, but I don't want to be rude an-"
"Holy Asgore, Kid!"
"What?" Clara shrilled back, startled at the reaction.
"Do you like Grillby?" The words echoed in her head, feeling her throat tighten.
"I- no! Undyne, that's not right…"
"Why not? Humans and monster date all the time now."
"H-He's like 2,700 or something…"
"Actually, he's 2,535. I have his record up now."
"You- what?"
"Yep! 6'8", 287 lbs., 2,535 years old, former army general, former police officer, current bar owner." She had his record? He is rather tall, but 287 lbs.?
"Are you sure about the weight? He has no fat on him at all." She had a touch of jealously saying that.
"Uh, yeah! That guy is ripped, kid! Muscle weights more than fat, so it makes sense." This was a revelation to her. Maybe she should stop working out… "And he runs that bar alone, inside and out. Those boxes of bottles are pretty heavy too! Ha ha, that's why Schnyder had a crush on the guy! Awesome in a suit, ripped, and a true gentleman! You're not the first kid." 'Not the first?'
"So, he married?"
"Far from it, the guy's a lifelong bachelor, and well known for it too." Something in Clara twisted, but she wasn't sure what. "Still there, punk?"
"Yeah, just… thinking…"
"Do you actually like him?"
"… I shouldn't…"
"What?" The fish woman screeched. "Why not, he's an awesome, guy! You deserve someone like him!"
"But isn't it wrong to be with someone so soon?" That is, if she even wanted to be with him… A deep sigh brushed the phone.
"Kid… what you went through wasn't love. As long as you're not using Grillbz, there's nothing wrong with it. And kid…"
"Mm?"
"I've never seen Grillbz look at anyone the way he does with you. But keep in mind, he might not like you back. He might see you as a kid he never had, or a really cool roommate or something. Just don't get too carried away with your feelings yet, okay?" There was something about Undyne that eased Clara. She had time to think, time to analyze, and opportunities.
"Thanks, Undyne, really."
"Anytime, punk!" Ending the call, Clara got up to head back inside, her nose starting to run from the cold. She felt a small hint of self-confidence. Coming in, she saw the men sitting close together on the couch, whispering to each other, stopping as soon as they saw her come back in. Gaster's mouth was in a thin line, and Grillby was messing with his hands, staring into his lap.
"I-I'm gonna call it a night…" Grillby got up, walking a wide path around Clara as he passed, before anyone could get a 'good night' in. Gaster looked to her, a little panicked.
"Eh… G-Guess I'll head home the-" Clara crossed her arms, suddenly feeling like she had a backbone.
"What was that?" Gaster stopped, hand halfway reaching for his bag and Clara's clothes. He looked like a child caught in the act of disobeying their mother.
"What was… what?"
"That, what you guys were just doing, or talking, or…"
"It was nothing, just a bunch of old people talk, nothi-"
"I'm not stupid, Gaster. Why can't you tell me?" The scientist felt cornered.
"I-I… Gr-Grillbz was just… U-uh… It's late, I need to go!" Clara had to back against the front door to stop him. She was reminded of just how he towered over her, but his child-like look of guilt only spurred her on.
"Why can't you tell me! I'm done with people hiding things from me, you said you wouldn't be like him." To be compared to Kyle stung Gaster.
"This is different, it's not my place to say…"
"Then it's Grillby's?"
"Shit!" He whispered. Clara stepped around him, but Gaster made no move to leave. "C-Clara, that's not a good idea! Wait!" She ignored him as she made her way to Grillby's room, knocking on the door before crossing her arms.
"One second…" He sounded… dejected? Opening the door, he was wearing a simple purple robe, holding it closed with no sash. "C-Clara!" He hid behind the door, only his head showing. "W-What's up?" She just scowled at him as Gaster stood off in the corner, guilty. "What did you say?" He opened the door now. "Gaster, what did you say?"
"I didn't say anything, I swear… She thinks we're hiding something from her…" Grillby looked back to Clara, holding his robe closed a little tighter.
"What were you talking about?" She insisted. Grillby looked nervous, almost shy.
"It's private, Clara, it's not important…" She wasn't buying it, but looked down, huffing.
"Fine. Sorry." She should have known her place. She always messes everything up when she talks. She knew better. When will you learn to shut up? Kyle's words burrowed into her.
"N-No, Clara, come back!" Stopping, Clara hadn't realized she was slinking back to her room. "I… Um…" He looked to Gaster, helplessly. The doctor shrugged. That seemed to be his only response as of late. "C-Can we talk? Please?" She got what she wanted, but felt regret. She didn't want this anymore. She really wasn't up for another 'talk.' Wasn't Gaster's talk enough for one day? First the paranoia, shopping, going to Undyne, Gaster's lecture, having to eat, calling Undyne, now this? She just wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep and not wake up. The sooner this was done, the sooner she could sleep. And pretend she wouldn't wa-
"Uh… um…" Not wake up…? I don't… why am I thinking about that… "I think I need a minute…" I only thought about that when… But instead of walking away, she walked past Grillby and into his room. Again, Gaster shrugged, this time confused. The elemental went inside and closed the door. Clara was sitting on the floor against his bed. Grillby went and joined her, being careful to kneel first and to sit on his legs so she wouldn't have to see more than either one of them would have liked. Maybe he should ask her to leave so her could be a bit more… decent? He did offend her with just his shirt off before. But something was wrong.
"You okay?" Silence met a slow nod.
"I just… my brain went dark for a second. I'm fine now." He knew that darkness too.
"Is it gone?"
"Yeah…" He contemplated a moment.
"I-I can put something better on if you're uncomfortable." He stammered.
"No, it's fine, I'm not actually a prude, it just… caught me off guard."
"Oh, that's a relief!" He sighed. She looked to him. "I thought I offended you or something! That's what we were talking about. What were you doing outside, by the way?" Clara shrunk a little, not catching onto his half-lie.
"U-Uh, I wanted to call Undyne. Just… stuff."
"Come on, Clara, that's not fair. I told you what I was talking about." Sort of. Clara looked like she was holding her breath, her face slowly turning red.
"It wasn't even anything in particular, just… when you caught me off guard, I felt like I had to talk about it. That's it…" This told him nothing. 'Talk' about it?
"What'd she say?"
"N-Nothing! S-Said it was a habit or something…" Clara noticed Grillby's toes curl a little.
"Sh-She ment- oh, I'm gonna have some choice words with that woman…"
"Why, was she lying?"
"U-Uh… well what'd she say about it?"
"That… you, uh… don't make me say it…" His soul skipped a second. "That you don't like clothes unless their fancy or… nothing at all…" She wasn't even looking anywhere near him now.
"Well, yeah… That's… not wrong…" Clothes seemed like a really good idea at the moment, though.
"Sorry if me being here is annoying…" True, he couldn't exactly walk around in nothing anymore, but he didn't mind.
"It's not annoying, not at all! There's nothing that you do that's annoying." She looked to him with brows drawn to concern. He bit his lip, not caring about how raw it was. Her eyes looked to his bare knees. Seeing where she did, he couldn't help stop the flames there from jumping, making her flinch a little. "S-See, that's what I meant when I said communicating!" Yes, red herrings to the rescue! "T-The way our flames act are ways of talking, like a dog's tail and ears." She seemed interested now, looking at his legs.
"Like what? What's something you could say?" Say something?
"Oh geez, I haven't done that in centuries!" A little excited to try it again, he also felt a little shy. "Um… o-our legs don't tell much though…" With a single nod, Clara silently told him 'go on.' Sighing, he got up, holding the skirt of the robe down as he went to his dresser, pulling out a belt and cinched it around the robe. He pulled his arms out from the robe, letting his torso be exposed. Clara stood too, looking around to see him from across the bed. Oh… I guess Undyne was right… Getting a good look at him now, he really was jacked! He looked like one of those Victorian boxing men. His muscles were plentiful, but he still had a medium frame that graded down towards his waist. He never felt that muscular when he held her, though. It was interesting to her.
Grillby noticed her look, her mouth slightly opened, but decided to ignore them. It was always strange to him how much humans were infatuated with his body. Holding his arms out a little, he changed the flames on his body. They sparked and swirled in patterns, occasionally a hint of blue at the ends of them. They trailed up and wisped off his shoulders, playing against his neck. It felt good to him, feeling natural and real. He stopped and looked back at her after a moment or two, still the same staring look.
"S-So?" He was a little hesitant. Was she even paying attention?
"It's… I get it, but what did you say?" He walked up to her so each of them were on opposite sides of the bed.
"It's less of words, and more of the feelings it gives. What'd you think I said?" He crossed his arms a little, suddenly wanting to not be looked at. She contemplated a moment.
"It was… smooth… gentle… good intentioned." He nodded.
"True, and that's all correct, but not specific."
"You're happy?"
"About?" He pat the bed in front of her. Seeing this as permission, she sat on his bed on her knees, looking to his chest in thought.
"… I don't know…" He laughed a little and sat in front of her on the opposite side.
"I would have been surprised if you did. Only elementals can understand it, typically. Especially not humans. I was content… happy, yes. I was thinking about the sunset…" He had more to add on, but left it there. Clara reached forward and placed her hand into the small wisps that danced off his shoulder. Much like the rest of him, he was a step above pleasantly warm, but not hot.
"Have you ever burned anyone?" The elemental was taken aback for a moment, before answering, detached.
"I'd imagine if I had left the nest younger, I would have, but I was old enough to control it by then." He had avoided the question.
"So you could, if you wanted to?"
"I would never do that now. I know how dangerous my element can be."
"Now?" He hadn't meant to let that slip…
"I… Elementals were useful in the war… Humans are… awfully flammable…" He took her hand away, not looking at her. He didn't want to imagine her on fire, her skin melting away like theirs did, how her-
"But there is no more war…" This made him nod.
"No, not anymore…" She grabbed his hand, trying to keep his focus on the now. "But I would never do that again. I could never take another life like that." She stroked his knuckles with her thumb. Clara saw how his breathing heaved a little.
"Can you do it again? The talking thing?" A little off guard, Grillby looked at her.
"Again? If you would like to?" She confirmed, wanting to cheer him up a little, seeing as how it worked before. Again, he stood, arms out. This was different. His flames were angled and sharp, accented with bits of red and spurts. After only a second or two, he opened his eyes suddenly, and stepped back. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I was just- I was thinking about it and it just…" He looked at his hands, turning them over again and again, expecting something.
"You were angry… vengeful… You hated what they did… You needed them back…" Grillby stepped back again.
"… How did you… No, no one can read them, that's impossible!" He stepped into the dresser, a little panicked now.
"Grillby? What are you talking about?" Clara got up, cautiously walking up to him. "I know you watched them die, you fell, and you survived, only you."
"Stop… I didn't… I didn't want to live…"
"But you did. And you failed them. Now your people are dying. You let everyone be dragged undergrou-"
"I didn't! Shut up!" He started clawing at his head.
"Stop, don't do that!" Clara tried to grab his hands, to stop him from hurting himself. "Grillby!" She yelled out, frantic and pained. In a second, he stopped, slowly looking up at Clara through sporadic breaths. When did he get on the floor? "Grillby?" Clara held the back of his neck, focusing him on her. "What… what happened?"
"What did you say before?"
"Before? I said that you look scared… You were saying things like you were talking to someone else…" Another panic attack… A bad one, at that… He hadn't hallucinated that badly in decades…
"I… I think I need to lie down…" But he didn't move, just staring at Clara. "I don't… uh… that usually never happens… I'm sorry you had to see that…" Using the dresser, he stood up slowly, shuffling his feet over to his nightstand closest to the closet. Pulling out one of the prescription bottles, he dry-swallowed two of the pills before sitting on the bed. Clara came over and saw the bottle said 'Risperidone.' She's come across it in her studies. It was an anti-psychosis drug. A strong sense of protection came over her, like she needed to help a child in need… "I'd prefer…" He put the bottle away, closing the drawer. "… if you didn't tell Gaster about this…" Clara mulled this over.
"Only if he wasn't the one who gave you that…" He shut his eyes a second, confirming that he had given the general that medication.
"I'll tell him, just… stay away from this, okay." He had gestured to the drawer. "Not that I don't trust you… just… it's a security thing with me. Makes me feel like if I know everything I need is there, I don't need to think about where it is." Reaching into his pocket, he dropped the two vape pens into the drawer and closed it again. Clara knew what he meant, having her own system about things. She sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. "Thank you for helping me. And… it means a lot that… you didn't run…" The woman looked strangely at him.
"I would never run… not when you needed help." This touched Grillby, causing his soul to twitch. Many had run, back when he had his episodes more frequently. He never got violent, but most people did not take the chance. Grillby resorted to self-isolation after that for a while. "You've done so much for me. What kind of a person would I be if I ran from you, when you literally ran after me?"
"That was different, I had to keep you safe, I couldn't lose you…"
"And I had to keep you safe too." She held his hand a little tighter, remembering how he had tried to claw at himself. "If you're here for me… then I'm not leaving when you need me…"
"Thank you, Clara." He whispered, holding her hand back. Suddenly, he felt the sting on his scalp from his episode. Running a hand over the pain, he was glad to see there were no streaks on it, but doing so still stung. "I think I'm gonna call it a night." Clara nodded in agreement, and got up to let him get settled. Swinging his legs up on the bed, Clara suddenly let out a high-pitched shriek and covered her eyes. "What, what's wrong?" Grillby shot back up, holding her shoulders. He didn't hit her, what happened?
"U-Uh… T-the robe…" Oh… shit… He forgot he was wearing nothing but a flimsy robe.
"Oh m- Clara, I am so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to- I completely forgot, I'm so sorr-"
"I-It's okay, I'll just… g-go and… uh… g-good night!" Spinning around, she tried to leave with her eyes covered.
"Watch the d-! Door…" Clara had speed-walked right into the door frame, now holding her forehead. He couldn't help a small smile. "Ugh, come here, you. Let me see…" She moved her hands, but there was nothing but a small bump forming. Thank goodness. She kept her eyes closed, most likely not risking another look. "You silly thing, what'd you do that for, I was behind you." He smoothed his thumb over her cheeks, coaxing her to open her eyes. "At least you're okay." She didn't say anything, but just kept looking right at him. He tilted his head a little when she didn't answer back. "Right?" Stirred from herself, she looked to the side.
"Y-Yeah…"
"I'm sorry, guess I really did make you run away, huh?" Grillby teased, trying to get a smile out of her, but she just turned red, eyes trying to keep calm.
"Y-Yeah, heh…" They just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Great job, Grillbert… Like she wasn't traumatized enough already…
Just leave, why are you still here, he said he wanted to sleep. It was an accident, so stop thinking about it…
Should I apologize again? She looks worried…
"Come on." Grillby was the first to speak, slipping the robe back over his arms. With Clara behind him, they walked into the kitchen. "I always have this on hand." Clara was confused when he pulled out a pint of ice cream from the freezer. "What? I may be fire, but ice cream is ice cream, right?" She had to give him that. Grillby sat next to her at the nook, handing her one of the two spoons he had. They both needed a little bit of a treat after the massive day they had had. Clara was glad to see it was a flavor she liked, strawberry banana.
It wasn't until she was on her third spoon that Grillby noticed something. She was eating ice cream, a fatty, sugary food. Keeping to himself, but immensely proud, he smiled at her.
"What?"
"Mm, nothing." He went back to eating with her. Half the pint later, they both had had their fill, returning it to the freezer. Yawning as he stretched, Grillby noticed that Gaster had left. Not for nothing, if he had been there, he would have heard Grillby's panic attack and come in. "We should probably sleep. You've got a new friend tomorrow, and I wanna see about opening up the bar." Infected, Clara yawned too, walking up to him beside the nook into a hug.
Returning the hug, he was amused at how small she was, only coming halfway up his torso. Even by monster standards, he was pretty huge. But Clara didn't mind, and often welcomed the hugs that swallowed her; even Gaster's, as stiff and cumbersome his were. Only a moment after she hugged him, Grillby felt odd before realizing what it was. Jumping behind the nook, he pressed his body against the face of it.
"Eh, b-better get some sleep, huh?" He only had this shitty robe, if he moved… Looking forlorn, Clara stood there a moment. Grillby's smile got more forced by the minute. Please just leave, please just leave. Damn it, you couldn't have waited two minutes? Scolding himself, he scoured his brain for an excuse. "I-I have a menu idea I wanna write down." Still pressed against the nook, he slid over to a drawer with a pad and pen, pulling it out and started writing last season's menu's items on it. Clara raised one eyebrow. Does he seriously think she's falling for this? No, no he didn't. For the love of the stars, have mercy on me… He was running out of things to write… She's doing this on purpose isn't she? I deserve this for before anyway… Damn it, I don't care, this is punishment enough! He begged the blush from cropping onto his face, but to no avail. If he had his phone, he could fake a phone call, but to get to the land line, he'd have to turn around. Not happening… She's not leavin- no, don't sit down!
Clara looked over the nook to the paper he had. Leaning forward more, he tried to get more counter between him and… himself. She wasn't stupid, she knew what was wrong. In truth, she did want to leave, the palpable embarrassment so thick you could nearly suffocate on it, but she decided to play a little game. After all, she already saw 'him,' so what was the harm? His hand began to shake, and if he could sweat, he would be.
"Isn't that out of season?" She pointed to the clearly winter menu, her tone a little smug. He saw her little game.
"Clara, I know what you're doing, but please, for the love of Asgore…" She innocently shrugged. Grumbling, he reached as far as he could for a kitchen towel. Held it in front of 'himself' and turned his back, crab walking away to his room. Clara was in stitches laughing. "It's not funny!" He nearly slammed the door. At least she wasn't appalled. This is what I get for being a bachelor…
Author's Notes: Longest. Chapter. EVER!
And so we have begun! This is probably the most jam-packed, information based chapter for a long while, if not for the rest of the story. You'll be seeing a lot more Gaster, now, and a LOT more plot!
The Ana voice is very much a real thing, and is quite common. NOTE: THIS IS NOT A VERSION OF CHARA! This is a genuine recreation of what the voice would be like. (Still kicking myself over naming her Clara... how did I not see that...?) Gaster and Grillby are kinda going in a Bad Cop/Good Cop kind of role.
New character next chapter! Plus magic and minor feels!
Stay Safe, Lovelies!
