Chapter 10: Choices

While attempting to eat the breakfast that Grillby had laid out for her, the doorbell chimed.

"Na-ah-ah!" The cook scolded her as she tried to go open the door. "Eat." Begrudgingly, she sat back down, picking at the bits of potato with her fork. As expected, and on time, Gaster greeted the elemental before stepping inside.

"Good morning, Clara." His kindness was brushed off as she glared at the plate. Grillby went to stand across from her and began portioning her plate to what he wanted her to eat.

"It's been a rough morning." He explained, exhaustion from the situation coating his voice with a slight crackle. Gaster could see Clara's throat tighten as Grillby pushed the plate back in front of her. It was hard enough to get her out of bed, her mental state protesting greatly, but now she refused to eat. It was more trouble on Clara's end than Grillby's. "Clara, please eat something…" She all but smacked the fork down and started collecting her things to go with her possible boss. "You need your medication, ple-"

"It doesn't do anything, it doesn't help!" She shouted from her closet, grabbing her coat. Gaster knew this was a lost cause, sneaking next to the distraught man.

"She's going to have days like these, you can't blame her."

"I know…" Grillby fidgeted with the fake pill in his hand.

"Here…" Reaching into the fridge, Gaster tucked two of the many containers of leftovers into his bag. "I'll do what I can to get her to eat something before she comes back." Grillby only solemnly nodded as he put the pill back into its bottle. Clara marched out of her room, right past the men, and out the front door without a single word, which only caused Grillby to groan into his hands. "Take it easy, my friend."

Giving him a reassuring smile, Gaster left as well, seeing Clara looking rather crossed in the front passenger seat. For a moment, he wondered whether or not it was a good idea for her to have her car back. She could easily run away, and they would have no idea where she would be. Calm and composed, the scientist slipped into the driver's seat. "Did you take your pain medication." As they backed out the driveway, Clara spotted Grillby watching through the door. She really was being a bit of an asshole… She nodded.

Reaching the labs in silence, they got out and went into the facility. Being fully conscious this time around, Clara was amazed by everything, not that she'd tell Gaster that. He led her up the balcony, down the hall, and back into his office, same as it was before.

"You can put your coat and all here for now. Alphys won't be in for another hour." Humming in response, Clara sat on the couch. "… You seem distracted." He commented, unpacking a few things from his bag onto his desk. "I thought you were excited to meet Alphys."

"I am, just a little…" She fidgeted with her hands.

"Shy?" He offered, sitting at his desk. Clara nodded. "She's a complete sweetheart, could never hurt anyone. Anything she does, even in her work, she does to try to help others. Trust me, she's just as shy as you, if not more. Oh, by the way…" Reaching into his bag again, he pulled out one of the leftover containers. "… at some point, you're going to eat something, no arguments." Putting one onto his desk and opening it, he started popping Grillby's potato bites as though they were candy. He tended to forget to eat between work, family, Clara and Grillby, and not to mention forgetting to sleep. The occasionally packed meal from his lifelong friend were like heaven to him. Clara refused to look at the container, pulling out her phone to pass the time.

After about an hour and a half, a tiny knock came from the door. At first, neither one of them even thought it was a knock with how quiet it was. Gaster opened the door from his computer.

"Good morning, Alphys." He muffled through bites.

"G-Good morning, D-Doctor G-Gaster…" Clara was surprised at how shy she seemed. Her yellow lizard head was bowed down, looking away, her feet piled onto one another with her powerful tail wrapped around them. "O-Oh! You must b-be Cl-Clara! U-Undyne said y-you t-t-talked to her b-before." She didn't walk in, offered a handshake, and barely looked at her. Gaster plucked a folder from somewhere amidst the piles of papers and stood to give it to Alphys.

"No need to be shy, Alphys." He went on to explain in a gentle voice some kind of project he wanted her to do. "…and I'm sure Clara could help you while you two chat." Both of the women's heads shot up now, Exclaiming in unison.

"What?"

"B-But, D-D-Doctor G-Gaster she-she doesn't know how we o-operate, a-and…"

"Yeah, I'm not even sure if I- I mean…" Gaster plopped back into his chair, his voice suddenly back to its professional air.

"Enough, please. You are both professional enough to handle a simple survey analysis, I'm sure. Clara, you are to return here after you and Alphys are done talking." The change seemed to strike in Clara. Why was she here, she didn't want to be with someone like this again? What if Gaster is actually like him too? What if he was being nice this whole time just to get her to listen to him? "Clara, is that understood?" He was not rude about it, just stern. It felt as though icy finger nails scraped along the inside of her chest.

"Y-Yes… Doctor Gaster…" She could barely bring her voice above a whisper. Seeing her small relapse, he wheeled his chair over and smoothed his arms over hers.

"I'm sorry if the way I speak scares you. It's just how I get into the mindset of working, I promise." His voice was gentle again, showing he had full control. "Go on now, have fun." Wheeling back, he offered a sympathetic grin. She walked over to Alphys, glancing back to the head doctor in slight worry. But his back was turned. He did not see her worry, her slight fear.

"S-So this is my l-lab…" Alphys had brought you to the opposite side of the building on the main floor. The room was rather large, tiled and white like the rest of the facility. Several tables and a large desk were crammed with everything imaginable: vials, beakers, books and papers, tools, surgical instruments… That last one Clara had to force herself to ignore. She knew Gaster was both a scientific and medical doctor, but was Alphys? They walked up to the desk, as the lizard frantically tried to throw away empty cups of instant noodles. Clara felt her stomach twist just looking at them, her old dietary habit resurfacing. "S-Sorry about the m-mess!" Scooping some books off of another chair, she offered it to Clara. "S-So Undyne mentioned y-you wanted to t-talk about s-something?" Clara nodded.

"Um… well, Undyne kinda just offered for me to be your friend, which was a little weird."

"Y-Yeah, she can be a b-bit… f-forward." Her scales got a pink shade to them, thinking about her aquatic partner.

"But I was also wondering… is Gaster… nice to work for?"

"O-Oh yes! H-He's super nice a-and he understand a l-lot about, like, personal s-stuff. L-Like h-he gets that I c-can't really d-do things that require a l-lot of the social stuff that he does, s-so I do a bunch of t-tests and analyses!" The meek lizards had perked up now, enthralled in her love for her job. "W-What does Dr. G-Gaster want you to d-do, if you don't m-mind me asking?" Clara pondered a minute, realizing that she doesn't have a single clue.

"I… don't know, actually. I was just wondering if it was really hard or really depreciating to work here."

"Oh, n-no, no, it's w-wonderful! Everyone l-looks out f-for each other a-and a lot of us have f-friends who we meet with o-outside of work. Doctor G-Gaster a-also like to take someone o-once in a while t-to Grillby's b-bar!" Clara nodded, knowingly, explaining how she has before. "R-Really? W-Wow, he must really l-like you! U-Usually he waits a w-while before doing t-that because of a t-trainee thing." How did Alphys not know? Surely the entire lab had to have known by now. A student disrespecting Doctor W.D. Gaster, only to be found to be drugged and brought to his personal study? "A-Are you the o-one who's been making Doctor G-Gaster leave on t-time lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"H-He rarely leaves the l-labs unless it's f-for his sons or to see G-Grillby. A-Apparently he just sleeps on that c-couch and eats junk f-food." Her voice dropped as she guiltily looked at the candy currently on her desk. Having worked with him for several years now, she has passed on a few bad tendencies to him, junk food being one. "D-Do you want one?" She picked up the bag of gummy fish, offering it out to her.

"U-Uh… S-Sure…" It's be rude to say no, especially to someone I just met and might have to work with. Clara tried her best to pluck one of the candies from the bag and stuck it in her mouth without her hand shaking. Happy to see another lover of gummy fish, Alphys tossed one into her mouth as well as she started going over the folder Gaster had given her.

The gummy squished and stuck in Clara's mouth, the slime from refusing to swallow it seeping down the back of her throat. Her nose perked to one side as she fought to continue chewing it. The sounds it made, the horrible feel of it, the way her stomach curdled in desire for any sort of nutrition.

The garbage can was on the other side of Alphys, there was no way to discreetly spit it into her hand and throw it away. Keeping the fatty food in her mouth was making her nauseous, the idea of how much it'd impede on her progress nearly make her tear up. If she ate it, maybe she could ignore it ever happened. Regardless of how tight her throat was, Clara forced the mushed gummy to slink down. Almost immediately, she regretted it.

No, why did I do that, it wouldn't have been rude to say 'no,' I can't- I- it was candy, of all things! You fucking idiot, are you stupid? Sugar is like a drug, you get addicted! You fought so long to not need it, and now you're going to bring us back to being a fat, disgusting slob?

"D-Do you know how to use the survey p-program on the computer?" Alphys was oblivious to the absolute turmoil Clara was in, clicking and typing at her computer. Humming a 'no' was all Clara could do. Just the idea of opening her mouth felt like she would absorb calories just from the air. Nothing else could go into her mouth. Nothing. "N-Not sure why Gaster thought y-you'd be able to help, then. N-No offense!" Clara shrugged indifferently. "Hmm… Wanna t-talk about anyt-thing else?" Dropping the report, she looked to Clara. Finding the will, the anorexic spoke.

"N-Not really, that was about it."

"O-Okay. H-Hey, do you like a-anime?" Her eyes widened at the proposition of a shared hobby.

"Haven't really watched any ones that aren't kid shows brought here." Clara shrugged, feeling an overwhelming feeling to just grab that trash can and run.

"Oh, okay! W-Well, t-think about what k-kinds of shows you l-like and I'll c-come up with some o-ones you might like!" Bonding sounded great… with no food. "I-I should get working on this t-though, D-Doctor Gaster wants i-it by t-two." She picked up the folder again.

"I-I'm not much help, so I think I'll just see if G-Gaster has anything for me…" Clara got up, backing away.

"O-Okay, I'll see you later, C-Clara! I-It was great meeting you!" With a wave back to Alphys, Clara walked out.

Another knock was at Gaster's door.

"Damn it, every time I'm in the middle of the main concept…" he mumbled to himself, flicking his pen around his hand. "Yes?" The door opened, and there again, was the stout lizard.

"S-Sorry to dist-turb you, D-Doctor Gaster. I just h-have a question a-about this." Gaster got up and went over some of the data and values of the survey she was given.

"By the way, where is Clara? Still at your lab?" Looking up, Alphys cocked her head a little.

"N-No, she s-said she was c-coming back here."

"How long ago?" Glancing at her phone, which had several chibi anime charms dangling from it, Alphys went through her texts as a sort of time management system.

"I'd say about half and hour to forty-five min-"

"What?" Gaster flew back to his computer, quickly bringing up the lab's security logs. "Can you give me an exact time she left?"

"O-Oh, y-yes, um… lets see h-here… A-About 10:13."

"Okay… got it…" Sure enough, Gaster found the exact point where Clara left Alphys's office, speed walking off camera. The scientist switched cameras as she went past them. Down the hall, to the lobby (but not outside, Gaster noted), up the stairs, and back towards his office. Another camera change, and Clara is seen going into the women's bathroom on the way to his office. "… Okay…" He waited… He sped up the video till… It's live. Clara never left that bathroom. "Alphys…" His voice was deep, dark, and articulated.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Did you… give her any food?" Standing, he leaned against the desk.

"W-Well, I-I o-offered her a p-piece of c-candy…" Her stutter intensified as she grew more skittish around her superior. He very rarely spoke like this. Gaster did not respond. He only stared intently at the screen, the unscarred brow drawn deep over his eye socket. "S-Should I-I go g-get her, D-Do-"

"Yes." Tail between her legs, Alphys quiet literally ran out of the room and down the hall. Gaster watched as she came into view on screen, gingerly opening the door before disappearing inside. It was no more than half a minute before she returned, Clara right behind her. Everything seemed alright. Calmly, they walked from one camera to the next till they were back in his office, door having been left open.

"H-Here she i-is…" Alphys held Clara in front of her, as though she would shield her from the possible lecture she was about to be given for… something. Gaster stood up, huffing his shoulders down, before speaking as thought nothing had happened towards the window.

"Thank you… Alphys. Could you give us some privacy, please?" Without another word, there was a yellow streak that flew down the hall. Gaster noted that he will have to apologize to her later, closing the door from his computer and turning to lean his hip against the desk. "Clara… where were you?" He sounded resigned, but calm, glancing at her before staring at his finely polished shoes. Her eyes had dark rings now, and the lines going from the sides of her nose to her mouth seemed deeper.

"The… bathroom. I wasn't feeling good because of my… injury…" This was not entirely wrong, she was in a bit of pain from speed walking down the hall like that. "Sorry, I should have told you." Gaster turned to face her now.

"I don't care about you telling me where you are. I care about what you were doing." She did not see the difference, and her face said so. "Alphys gave you candy, and you decided t-"

"N-No, that's not what I wa-"

"Then what, Clara?" The usually calm doctor shouted, patience gone. "You are 79 pounds, and you expect me to think that you did nothing? … Sit." A little rougher than he intended, Gaster led her to the couch. "Do you have any idea how serious this is? I can't even trust you to walk across a building anymore, Clara. You're leaving me with very few choices here." Sighing, he slumped into his chair, sounding defeated. "I… Do you want to be here? Hospitalized? It's fine if you do, really, but…" He rubbed his mouth in thought. What more could he do? He had a medical policy that could not be bent. He held his head in his hand. "You're lying, going behind my back, refusing to eat, vomiting when you do, severely underweight…"

"Please don't make me…" There was a squeaking voice from the couch, one that nearly cracked Gaster's soul. He's heard that so many times. She did not admit to it, but clearly gave up on her excuse.

"If I have to, I have to. It's not my decision, I must follow the policy that has been set by the medical associations." He could not bear to look at her, how tears streaked down freely without a sound. "But, as of right now, it is not set in stone…" Clara looked up, a shred of hope blooming. "If… If your blood work comes back well enough…" He pondered over his deal. "And you can eat a meal that I set out for you, without purging for one hour, then I will make arrangements so that you do not have to be here."

"Yes!" The frail woman nearly shouted, sticking her hand out. Through his distraught state, he chuckled at the offer.

"I've never understood why humans are so fond of handshakes." But he accepted. "Is your word not good enough? It is not like a contract that has a permanent signature on it." Turning to his desk, he called for blood sample equipment to be brought on up before sighing again. "You're walking on paper thin ice, Clara… I don't think you realize how far down you've gone… and that scares me."

"Scares you?" Why would he be scared? It's not like his freedom and body were on the line.

"We fought so hard to get you away from him, to get you into a good home where you feel safe, with the support you needed to heal… and you turn away. I saw what you were like, Clara, when you finally felt free. You were so happy! You danced with Grillby, for the first few days, you ate willingly, you nearly ate the entire sandwich at Grillby's…" He was less of talking to her, and more of mulling over where he went wrong, where he missed the signs… and there were none.

"You've been doing this for years, haven't you?" He asked, forlorn. Clara's silence was confirmation enough. Another knock, the door opened, and that same cart was pushed in, and parked next to Clara. She started to resent that thing. Gaster wheeled himself over, remorsefully going over the cart, unwrapping and assembling. "Why is it… that this always ends up happening when you're here?" Clara didn't answer, but instead lied on her side, splaying out her arm.

She had that look, the same look the child that fell so many years ago had. Resigned to their fate, blank and lifeless eyes staring at some far-off hope that they were watching die before them. And he was stuck in the same position of having to administer the pain, giving treatment that they saw as torture.

"I… really am sorry, Clara…" He couldn't do it, not with her like this. He had been a doctor for many centuries, and that same look always bore into him, always eliciting the same reaction out of him. He couldn't help it as a few tears dripped down his bone. He couldn't help that they fell onto her wrist before he could move away. He just couldn't. The drop brought Clara to what was going on, confused to the water on her. Looking up, she was instantly upright, trying to think of something to say to the monster. His eyes were screwed shut, brow shaking. What could she say? Reaching forward, she wrapped her wire-like arms around him. "I'm so sorry!" He whimpered, holding her against him. "I can't believe he did this to you…"

He did this? Did he do this? Clara always thought this was something that she chose, but looking back, there were so many red flags. Limiting her money, the insults, needing permission to eat in public, no sugary foods… He stopped her from eating sugar, not her. He was always roughly pinching at her stomach, sneering when she showed it. Did he? Am I still doing this because of him? She suddenly felt disgusted. Pulling out of the hug, she leaned against the couch in thought with a hiss.

"Fuck him…" Something sparked in her features, one that Gaster learned to recognize as a passionate anger. A hopeful, and slightly amused, smile spread onto Gaster's face.

"That's an understatement. May I?" Clara put her arm into his open hand on the armrest. Going about the routine, he disinfected, stuck, drew from, and removed the equipment. He gently rubbed his thumb over the cotton that he put over her vein. "You've been through too much… Still want to do the deal?" Clara nodded, feeling a bit more confident. Perhaps not about 'winning' the deal, but just in general. She had Gaster and Grillby. No matter where she was, he was not going to be there. "Okay."

Leaning forward, Gaster placed a kiss on her forehead, just like back in her bathroom, before he rolled back to his desk. Dialing two more numbers, he called for a lab test of the blood, and for 'dietary needs 4T.' The same person came and collected the cart and sample, and only ten minutes later, someone came in with a tray with a lid over it. Gaster placed it on a work table with wheels in front of Clara.

"Now, Clara… I'm going to portion this for you. You must eat every bite. No scraping anything off, no blotting anything. Eat it as it is. You can move it around, break it apart. As long as you eat every part of what I give you, okay?" With a nod, Gaster uncovered the tray. There was a de-boned chicken leg half the size of a fits, half a cup of mashed potatoes, and half a cup of carrots. The sheen on the chicken did not please Clara by any means. Even just the smell screamed of fat. Gaster went to work portioning half the potatoes, three quarters of the carrots, and the entire chicken leg. "You have one hour to eat just this. It's not a lot, and is actually what we make our other patients like you eat." He said, gesturing to the portion. "Your hour starts now." With that, he turned back to the computer to start a new document.

Clara truly tried her best, going for the carrots first, followed by the potatoes. Gaster peeked around about forty minutes in, and the chicken sat untouched. "All of it, Clara. If you cannot, that is entirely fine. Do not force yourself if you will get sick because of it." Her stomach was already feeling sick, and Gaster could tell. She was shifting in her seat constantly, and he could actually hear her stomach trying to comprehend food again. Once in a while, he could hear her in pain from her body's protest.

Anorexia and bulimia were never a pleasant issue, and there was more physical pain involved than most people would expect. Her body was trained to not retain that much food for two years, possibly more. It would take months upon months to break this. In truth, he was surprised at how well she was doing. Only the chicken and a few scraps of potatoes left, and she stopped with fifteen minutes left.

"It's too much. I can't physically eat all that." He knew this, and turned from his computer.

"I know." He picked up the lid, but Clara suddenly covered the plate with her hands.

"No! I'm not done, I'll finish, really!" She was desperate, but determined.

"I set this up with a certain goal in mind, and you've passed it." Clara was confused.

"But… I didn't finish…"

"I know that." He smiled. "And I'm sorry to say that I've lied to you. You see, it's impossible for you to eat all of this with how much your stomach has shrunk, but you still tried. And, when you reached your limit, you admitted to it. That is what I was looking for, and you have passed." With that, he shooed her hands away and covered the plate. "Given, we still have another hour, starting now, for you to not get sick. Either way, I am still immensely proud of you." Putting the table back where it was squirrelled away in the corner, he returned to his computer. "Oh, and may I see your phone?"

"Sure, I guess… Why?" She walked over beside him at his computer and pulled it out, but waited to hand it over.

"To check the internet history. There are rather questionable websites relating to your condition, and I must check to see if you have been on them."

"I haven't been on any of those 'Ana' sites…"

"Then you will have no objection to me looking." He held his hand out to her phone, which was clutched to her chest.

"It's… my privacy, though."

"Clara, when you're hospitalized, there is no such thing as privacy. I'm just checking the websites, not what is in them. And, Clara, I really couldn't give a shit what sites you're on, as long as it isn't these pro-ana sites." Mulling over all the sites she's been on since she last wiped her history, she resigned. "Thank you." Hooking the phone to the computer, Gaster went through the phone. Clara watched, horrified to see the search history from before she wiped it. Oh no, please don't see, please don't see… She didn't have any pro-ana sites, but there were some pretty embarrassing ones. Thankfully, after going through about three months of searches, he handed the phone back. "You're good…" was all he said. The mental torment of whether or not he saw some of the sites she had been on will haunt her for weeks.

"Actually, I don't think I have ever explained my work to you." Gaster said into his computer. "My current research is actually on eating disorders and their behaviors. Given, I still do other work and all, but this is the one that I was asked to take on recently by… many associations. As much as I'd prefer to be working on more intricate illnesses and diseases, they deny me… I swear half of them are racists… They want a 'cure-all' approach." He scoffed loudly. "Dumbasses… There is no such thing as a 'cure-all approach' for a behavioral issue, but they want 'guidelines' and 'systems.' About half of my patients now are in the same boat as you are, Clara." She did not really seem to care that much, though. "You should meet some of them, it could be very beneficial! I have this one patient who…" Clara zoned out, not really caring. She was not like them, and she did not want to be like them. Instead, she focused on trying to keep her stomach settled as several bouts of severe nausea waved over her. Her body creaked and moaned as it greedily decimated the food for its nutrients.

Nearly at the end of the post-meal hour, Gaster's printer went off.

"Ah, must be the blood work." He said to himself, grabbing the papers. Already with an exhausted frown, Clara couldn't tell his reaction to the results.

'Low, Low, Deficient, Low, Deficient, Deficient, Deficient, Low, Deficient…' Those same two words went on and on all across each page. The bolded, red 'Deficient' outlined half the document. There were notes on the last page as to the recommended procedure based on the results. Most of them typically said 'multivitamins,' 'more protein,' or something along those lines. This one read completely differently, and Gaster had no choice but to follow it. Glancing at the time, he figured that fifty-five minutes was close enough. Well, two out of three…

"Clara…" The doctor rubbed his head, running his hand down to the back of his neck. Wheeling in front of her, he lowered the chair to be more level with her, papers in hand. "Your results are… shocking, to say the least." She was not shocked at all. "You're… deficient in just over half of everything… and some are…" He had to stop a moment, swallowing his emotion. "Some could be considered critically low. But I do still believe that you have a luxury here. Unlike a vast majority of my patients, you have a choice." This caught her attention. "You are showing signs of wanting this to stop, am I correct?" She enthusiastically agreed. "And based on how much you could eat, you can still physically eat enough for it to be significant. But eating alone is not enough medically." Gaster took a moment to take a deep breath and release it. "It is not enough to get you out of the critical alone. I would like your opinion on a proposition that I have.

If you stay here," He continued. "you will be monitored at all times of the day, receive therapy from me, be watched and monitored on every meal and after, and have nasogastric sessions until you are out of critical." Clara knew what nasogastric tubes were, and they were apparently absolute torture. There was always a lingering discomfort, and having it put into place is painful as hell. "But, if you choose not to, you can go home to Grillby, he will have a strict diet that he will report to me about, many of your liberties will be limited, and you will come here to my office for therapy and nasogastric sessions every day. Being here, there are few distractions, and you can focus on getting better without interruptions, but not everyone responds this way. I need to know your opinion, your choice, on what you feel will truly help you the best."

"Is… the feeding tube really…"

"Yes… No matter how much or what you eat, it's far too dangerous to not have you be supplemented in some way. I know it's… annoying… but that is not something that can be swayed." Clara felt her stomach chill at the thought of that being inserted daily.

"Every day?"

"Yes. It will not be removed between sessions, but it will be there for at least four day-"

"Four days!" Clara shot up, nearly knocking Gaster backwards in his chair. "I can't deal with that for four days!" Gaster stood, taking her shoulders.

"Shh, calm down, calm dow-"

"Please, please don't, I'll eat anything!"

"Clara, calm… down…" Silently getting her to breath with him, he managed to get her to sit back on the couch as he held her hands. "I know it's scary and extremely unpleasant. I don't exactly like having to give people them, but it is best to not panic. The more you think about it, the worse it will be." Lunging forward, she held onto him. For a moment, he flinched away, but quickly recovered as he soothed her. "Do you know where you want to be for all this?" She thought for a moment, occasionally taking a second to ignore the world and just lean into his hug. After about two minutes, she nodded.

"I wanna be with Grillby…" She didn't really need to tell him; he knew the answer already.

Author's Notes: I'm alive, I swear! Okay, I am so sorry about the delay on this chapter, but I have my reasons...
That I will tell you in the next chapter...

For this chapter, I am rather attached to it for some reason. It is where everything comes together to form the big problem. Obviously, Clara's eating disorder. In hindsight, I should have added in more of the Ana voice during the meal, but eh. It's already written.

Forgive me for my horrible Alphys, I am not good at writing her... *Sees username* Wellllll... Shove a Moldsmal up my nose and call me Shirley...

All characters: "No..."

Note: What Gaster did here is NOT medically accurate! She would have been hospitalized immediately back with Williams, but with how delicate the situation was, she went to Gaster first. Being a monster who has a slight grudge against the medical associations and knowing Clara, he gave a big middle phalanx to them. The big plot hole is filled in with Gaster being a dick to racist humans!

Gaster: "Well, I quiet like it..."
Grillby: "Yeah, no shit. Wouldn't that make you a racist?"

Gaster: "Says the war general. And only to idiotic humans who know nothing of compassion."

Grillby: "Need I get the knife?"

Gaster: ". . . I knew I should have let you die back then..."
You two stfu before you spoil anything else about my secret project! Don't make me get Captain Sans of the S.S. Grillster in here to embarrass you two in silence!

Stay Safe, Lovelies!