Gaster remembered this place; he didn't know how he could have forgotten it. This tree stump, this hill, the valley below with its human army preparing for battle. He watched them silently, dimly aware that he was dreaming but unable to convince himself that this wasn't somewhat real. It felt so real. He could look down and pick out individual blades of grass, see tiny beetles and ants crawling amongst the green. He looked up and gazed at the blue sky and stringy clouds above, but couldn't look long because the sun was too bright and it hurt his eyes. He felt warm- the heat wasn't oppressive despite the strength of the sunlight- relishing as an icy breeze enveloped him in its refreshing embrace. No, he couldn't say that this wasn't somewhat real.

He waited, curious if events would play out the same as when he was last here. He wasn't kept waiting long, soon enough he felt the approach of one monster soul followed by three human souls. He trained his eyes on the ridge he remembered them running up from behind. The monster popped into view as it scrambled its way up the hill and gunned it down the other side, and soon the humans were in sight, tailing the poor creature. Gaster watched the scene play out once again: the monster made the mistake of looking back, he tripped, the humans encircled him with their weapons at the ready.

The same thought occurred to him again of its own volition. This wasn't justice.

He didn't know where he was or what the consequences of his actions would be. But he did know that he was tired, so very tired, of sitting and watching, and that Lytle wouldn't want him to just sit idly by as a helpless monster was slaughtered.

So he stood up. His white eyes flared with blue as he flung the men fifty feet into the air, then they returned to white as he let them drop. They screamed as they fell, landing with a satisfying thud. They did not stir again.

Gaster gasped at the sensation he had only felt once before- a warm, addictive rush passing from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. The effect of gaining more execution points. Gaster felt this and reacted the same way as the first time it had happened.

He gulped in a huge breath of air and retched onto the ground in front of him. The monster was alive, but Gaster had killed the humans. He didn't know why, he had just acted without thinking, which was the problem he supposed as he wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. He made terrible choices when he didn't consider his options carefully, which was probably why he had always done so poorly in fights. It was also why he avoided confrontation because the last time something similar to this happened, it had ended much the same. Another human dead.

They didn't deserve that, he could feel his soul screaming at the injustice of his actions. They hadn't deserved that, they were barely more than children, they had families that expected them to come back home, and Gaster had disregarded all of that and killed them.

This wasn't justice.

He blinked his eyes open groggily, half-expecting the field to still be there, but of course he was back in Lytle's tent. Back home.

Those men won't be going back home and it's all your fault.

Gaster blinked as the thought zipped through his mind, unable to remember why he had thought that or what it had been about. His soul buzzed in his chest, and at first he thought it was just from the influx of magic from sleeping. But the feeling became worse, demanding his attention until he could no longer ignore it. He summoned his soul, yet the feeling didn't pass at all, wiping away any thoughts of the problem being related to magic. Usually, he would summon his soul and some of the magic in his soul would diffuse into the atmosphere, relieving the annoying buzzing some. His soul continued this time though, like a swarm of angry hornets. He combed through his stats, trying to identify the problem.

He stopped at the first thing he checked on. His HP. It had risen five points.

He let out a choked laugh at the numbers. 66/66. Sans had said HP was Hope, which made sense considering how much he had lost of both over the years. But he had gained some back last night. He smiled slightly, glancing behind him at the sleeping form of Lytle.

Another increase in the buzzing sensation brought his attention back to his soul. He searched deeper until he came to his Execution Points.

63/63, they read. It seemed his HP wasn't the only thing that had risen. But this didn't make any sense. He hadn't killed anything.

The thought crept back again from earlier. Those men won't be going back home...

What had he dreamt about? Did he kill something in his dream? Did killing something in a dream even contribute to a person's EXP?

His attention snapped back to his soul as the numbers dimmed and disappeared before being replaced with the usual points. 20/20.

The buzzing grinded to a halt, not so much feeling like whatever had made his soul behave so oddly leaving, but just stop acting up. Gaster frowned at the numbers, mind racing as he considered what had just happened. He had never read an account of someone's Execution Points becoming temporarily inaccurate. So what was happening to him?

Rustling from behind broke him from his thoughts. He quickly stood up as Lytle awoke with a soft groan. She cracked her eyes open, brow furrowed. "Gaster? What happened? Why do I feel so awful?"

"Lytle-"

She shot upright, any traces of sleep wiped away, her eyes as big as saucers. "Why are you in my tent?"

" ," Gaster began again, his patience spreading thin, "You were sick last night, I brought you back to your tent and took care of you, you asked me to stay so I did."

"Is that it?" She asked warily, eyeing him. Her face suddenly went as red as a rose. "We didn't, ah... you know..."

"Have sex?" Gaster asked with an arched eyebrow. Lytle's face went a shade of red deeper- if that was even possible. "No, you are not whore, as we established last night, nor would I take advantage of you when you were clearly so emotional and distraught."

"Uh," Lytle hid her face in her hands for a moment, and when she dropped them her face was a more normal color, "Thanks for that, I guess."

Gaster nodded, rubbing the back of his head and wondering if he should say something further. The sage was biting her lip, staring at her hands as they sat in her lap. Gaster frowned, figuring she probably wanted him to leave, and moved to go.

"Wait!" Lytle stopped him, reaching out with a hand. Her eyes flicked down at the hand and she furrowed her brow at it like it had been disobedient before lamely letting it drop back down next to its counterpart. "I'm sorry for what I said and what I did, Gaster. I acted stupid and was being immature and- and I hope you can forgive me." The healer finished, bringing her gaze up to look the man in the eye.

Gaster blinked at her. "I already have."

Lytle stared at him for a moment longer before her face broke into a smile. "Well, that's good to hear." They lapsed into silence for a moment while Lytle thought, her lips pursed. Gaster restrained a sigh as he waited for the girl to voice whatever thoughts were in her head. "Gaster, what's your first name?"

"Adrian." Gaster answered, cocking his head. "Why?"

"I was just wondering." She replied thoughtfully. "I've never heard anyone call you by it, is all, and I didn't know what it was. Do you want me to call you by it?"

Gaster looked away. "Adrian is dead. It's just Gaster now."

Lytle frowned, but apparently saw that he didn't want to talk about it further. "Did we... talk about something last night? I feel like you told me something important, but I don't... remember exactly..." She trailed off before shaking her head. "That probably doesn't make much sense, huh? Sorry, I've never been that drunk before."

"No, that's to be expected. Your memories will return, gradually and in flashes, I've heard."

"So... did we talk about something?"

Gaster let out a quiet huff. "Yes, though I'm not sure I actually want you to remember it, now that I think about it."

Lytle looked at him in concern. "Why?"

Gaster squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "It's not important. I need to get back to my lab to feed Sans and resume working."

"Wait, Gaster!" Lytle sprang up, rummaging around in her bag before producing a neatly folded paper. She beamed at him, thrusting the object in his direction. Gaster stared down at it until Lytle sighed and said, "Well, take it!" Gaster gingerly pinched it, pulling it from the girl's grasp. "I will admit, I'm not very fond of the message you wrote me, but I did manage to break it and that's all that matters to me! Bet you didn't think I could do it, didn't you?"

Gaster carefully unfolded the paper. It was the encrypted message he had written her alright, with English crammed in the lines between it. Gaster read it over to make sure everything was right as Lytle continued speaking, "It was hard alright, but I did it! I actually finished it yesterday morning and had come to the lab to show you, but you weren't there, and when you did come the whole ordeal with the Arch-mage happened and, well." Lytle stopped. Gaster glanced up just in time to see her snatch the paper back. "Were you still listening?"

"To your incessant ramblings? Unfortunately." Gaster had meant it as a joke but it came out dull and flat. Lytle, at least, seemed to see his effort since she didn't get mad.

"Good." She said, smacking him lightly on the arm. She turned her attention to the paper in her hands, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she began reading. "'To , you are infinitely annoying and infuriating. You have not stopped pestering me since the moment I met you, yet I find myself still willing to teach you if you can read this message. I expect great things.'" Lytle smiled. "And it's signed 'Gaster'. So, you ready to begin?"

Gaster sighed, running a hand over his face. "Clean yourself up. I'll be waiting in my lab for when you're ready."

Lytle squealed in delight, jumping from foot to foot. Gaster thought for a moment that she might hug him like the time he agreed to teach her if she broke his code and was simultaneously disgusted and thrilled. She didn't, though, much to his relief and disappointment. Gaster frowned slightly at the conflicting emotions, turning and leaving so Lytle didn't see the action and get the wrong idea.

"Thank you, Gaster! I promise I'll be the best student ever, I won't disappoint you!"

Gaster just nodded, brushing the tent flap aside and stepping outside. He breathed in a lungful of crisp morning air. It must have stopped raining at some point last night, and now the world was just covered in a thin, gray mist and mud. He wondered exactly how he was going to teach the girl. He didn't think the Arch-mage's methods of teaching him would be very... ethical, and he had never seen his mentor training one of his other students. He had nothing to go off. He sighed, ignoring the fearful looks people gave him as they rushed by and wondering what he was going to do.

Sans waited.

And waited.

...And waited.

He had been waiting since Gaster had left in such a hurry, off to find Lytle, he had said. Sans could only wonder what was happening as the time dragged on. Had the doctor found her yet, or was she just gone? If he had found her, why wasn't he back yet? Was he punishing her for running off, or was Lytle refusing to come back? Was Lytle refusing to come back ever and was just leaving the skeleton to fend for himself? No, no she wouldn't do that, she promised she would help him escape. So where were they?

He paced until he wore himself out then curled up on his bedroll, one socket trained on the door as he fell asleep. When he woke up, he wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but they still weren't back. He was half-tempted to break out of his cell again just so he could go out and find them, but the moment he remembered the Arch-mage and his treatment yesterday, he scrapped the idea. He would just have to continue waiting, even if Sans didn't have a soul of Patience, even if he was going absolutely mad just sitting in this cage unable to do anything but twiddle his thumbs and-

There was a knock at the door. Sans shot upright, his soul skipping a beat before hammering wildly in his ribcage. He could sense it, that same well of magic power that had knocked on the door the day before. He had been too engrossed in his own frantic thoughts to notice it approaching, that huge, cruel soul. He glanced around the room as if Gaster might magically appear there, but of course he didn't. Sans was left in the same predicament as before.

The seconds seemed to drag on before the Arch-mage decided to simply let himself in. The man looked around the lab, snorting and crossing his arms. He gave Sans a sidelong glance, slinking over to stand at the bars of his cell. Sans scooted back into the corner, the farthest he could get from this man that looked at him like a particularly interesting ant.

"Gaster isn't here to help you this time, monster." Sans was afraid for a second that the Arch-mage knew he knew human tongue, but the man continued without ever giving pause for the skeleton to speak. Sans wasn't actually sure if he would have given him the chance either way. "Which means I can do whatever I want to and just have his little whore healer patch you up." Sans pressed himself further against the wall as the Arch-mage reached forward to grip the wooden bars of his cells. His eyes were wild and hungry behind the white glow present there."This is good, I'm in desperate need of hurting something right now."

Sans squeezed his sockets shut, unwilling to even see what awful magics the Arch-mage would use against him. A familiar, gracious sound spared him though. The door opening again. Sans cracked a socket open just as Gaster blinked at the Arch-mage.

It was silent for a moment while the scientist processed what was happening. "What is going on here?"

"Ah, Gaster," Immediately, the Arch-mage was just as he appeared yesterday: calm, collected, uncaring, "I came to inform you to start work on the modification of Integrity souls in camp, but you weren't here at first." The man cocked his head at his former pupil. "Where were you?"

Gaster did not say anything at first. "You are no longer my mentor." He replied eventually. "I do not need to answer such things anymore."

"Oh," The Arch-mage said, looking as if he just caught a whiff of something rotten, "That means you spent the night with that little harlot."

Sans thought Gaster might just brush off the words and send the Arch-mage on his way again. To his surprise, the man's face darkened, and Sans shuddered as he remembered the first time he met the doctor.

"Don't call her that." Gaster said, his voice portraying none of the obvious rage building in his face.

"Well, what should I call her then?" The Arch-mage responded, voice exasperated. "Do you prefer whore? I thought harlot sounded more eloquent. Perhaps prostitute?"

"Call her none of those things." Gaster snapped, his hands curling into fists. "For she is none of those things. She is my friend, nothing more."

The Arch-mage seemed amused. "If you say so, Boy. Do you say the same thing about your monster that you treat so kindly?"

"Leave him out of this." Gaster hissed, glowering. "How I treat the monster is none of your concern. Not anymore."

"I beg to differ." The Arch-mage said, strolling over to the doctor's desk and examining the notes there. "The church wants to know, which means I have to know so I can tell them. Tell me, why haven't you done any more tests on the monster? Why don't you let the soldiers in camp have a nice skeleton practice dummy every now and then? Your healer can just work her magic on him. There's absolutely no inconvenience. After all," The Arch-mage added, "He is just a monster."

Gaster's hands were clenched so hard that they were shaking. The Arch-mage waited for the doctor to speak, but no words came out. "You're growing soft again." The Arch-mage continued, shaking his head. "You still think you're making her proud, don't you? You think that by showing the monsters whatever mercy you can, you think you make your mother happy. I will tell you only once more- you do nothing but disappoint her. I knew her, so I know as well as you do, though you lie to yourself. You've hurt too much, done too much for someone with a green soul like hers to accept you. I've seen your LV Gaster, though it was some time ago, which only makes it worse since I'm sure it's done nothing but climb."

The Arch-mage sighed, walking back over to his former student. "Come, it's been too long and you've grown too soft. Here I thought I wouldn't have to babysit you so, Boy. We'll duel, I'll win, then I'll send whatever Integrity souls I can find over here." Gaster did nothing but glare silently in return. "Bring the monster as well, I want him to know just how pointless this war is that he gave his life for." Gaster gave a single, terse nod. The Arch-mage regarded him before shaking his head again. "Ah, Boy, you showed so much promise, and yet here you still are, weak and merciful. Such a disappointment."

The Arch-mage did not say anything more, simply let himself out and walked away. Gaster unlocked Sans cage, gripping the monster's soul in his magic-nullifying spell. Sans watched the doctor, wanting to say something but not knowing what to say. What could you say after all that? Should he comfort him, thank him for protecting him? Should he hate him, since like the Arch-mage said, he had done so much to hurt monsters with his magic and his experiments? But, everyone seemed to think that Gaster wasn't as evil and cruel as the monsters believed. As Sans believed.

Were they all wrong? Was Sans wrong?

He didn't know, he didn't know anything for certain anymore. He knew that he was a monster, that he fought for his kind, but the Arch-mage had even ridiculed that. Sans did know to some extent just how badly monsters were losing the war, but he didn't think it was pointless for monsters to fight. Was it? The Arch-mage hadn't even been talking to him and Sans doubted most things he had believed in. He shuddered to think what spending years under someone like that would do to someone mentally. Then he stopped as he had the example right in front of him, leading him to watch a duel between two of the strongest human mages.

Gaster... was terrified. Under all the anger he felt at the Arch-mage for acting like the Arch-mage and at himself for losing his patience, he was terrified. None of his previous duels with the man had ended anything better than poorly. Now here he was, off to fight with him again, and this time he'll be out of practice too. Lovely. This day just kept getting better.

You just disappoint her.

Gaster brushed away the thought tiredly. He did not need those thoughts again. Those thoughts only brought anguish and heartache, and he was not ready to go back to the dark place they brought him. He had spent far too long in there already. He would just focus on his impending duel with the person he hated most in the world.

Such a disappointment.

Gaster sighed, checking quickly to make sure Sans was actually following him since he hadn't checked. The skeleton was there, looking confused and unhappy. Gaster sighed again, letting his legs take him down the familiar path to the magic training range.

He supposed he disappointed both of his parents, then.

(A/N):I posted on the story's blog what songs I listened to while writing this story. If you want to check them out, head over there, but I'll warn you now they're pretty depressing.

So here it is! Who here called the Arch-mage being Gaster's father? I did foreshadow it some, but I could understand if you didn't see it coming.

This is a shorter chapter, I know, but I'll probably have the next out before too long so it's okay. The one after that might take some time because, you know, fight scenes. On the bright side, I finally have everything pretty much figured out for this story! Or at least up until the point the barrier is created. After that it's a little hazy, but I've got time. I know how I want the main scenes to play out and how they happen, so that's all that matters, right? Right.

Thank you for all the feedback and positivity you've given me guys! It really means a lot!