Warning: This chapter contains mentions and graphic abuse. If you are sensitive to that subject, I strongly advise you to click out of the chapter. You have been warned.

Papyrus's breath caught in his throat. "F...Father?" He questioned in order to make sure of the situation they were about to get into.

Sans gave a small nod, the lights in his eyes completely dim, leaving his eye sockets empty like a void of a deep black ocean. "Yeah...about..." He didn't want to call that scum bag his father, but biologically speaking, that's what he was, "father." Sans got over himself and called the beast the high praised name anyways, for Pap's sake. He had Papyrus's full attention. Papyrus didn't take his eye sockets off of his older brother, awaiting the story that Sans had never dared to speak of when they were younger, claiming that the time had to be right for him to talk about the sore topic.

"What was he like?" Papyrus quickly questioned. "How tall was he? How did he smell? Was he a great scientist like everyone says he was? What was his favorite color? Did he ever-"

Papyrus's question session was abruptly cut off by Sans placing his finger to Papyrus's teeth. Sans took in a deep breath, thinking over each question Papyrus had just thrown at him. It made his head spin, thinking over the answers. 6'4, like the sterilization a hospital possessed, he was an amazing scientist, the best there ever was, but he used his smarts for evil in private, purple. "Please, Pap," Sans pleaded, eye sockets closed, "don't throw questions like that at me. It's hard enough for me to talk about this. If...if I'm still ok by the end of this, I might answer a few questions. But I'm not guaranteeing anything." Sans reasoned as best as he could while trying to respect his own mental stability.

Papyrus nodded slowly, and a bit hesitantly. He was starting to question within his head if it was a good idea for Sans to talk about this. "If, uh...Y'know...this is too much for you to talk about...you don't have to tell me right now."

"You don't understand, Pap," Sans said as he rubbed his hands together before bringing them to his face and sliding them down, "I do have to talk about this. Whether I want to or not," He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall, watching as the hands ticked and tocked away, the second hand moving by much faster than the minute and hour hand. The time read 7:08 P.M. "Now buckle in. This is going to be a long night."

He took in a deep breath and let it out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He had to breathe or else it would hurt more. Especially if he hyperventilated. He had to keep his breathing under control. If not, his ribs would hurt even worse. He tried to pull his arms against the restraints that held him back on the lab table. That was a grave mistake. Pain shot up through his being like a bright, vibrant fire that never could be put out. It was too hot.

W. D. Gaster placed his hands against the lab table, each one on either side of Sans's head. "Heh, you're peculiar, Sans, you know that, right? Despite your extremely low HP, you can sustain several very torturous accounts. Perhaps it's the amount of magic that you have, coursing through your being. Who would have thought?" Gaster stepped away from the table and away to his cart that contained several different liquid medicines, pills, and chemically filled syringes.

Sans began to hyperventilate again then stopped breathing once he felt a gigantic twinge of pain against his soul. Him not breathing wasn't helping at all either, but he couldn't breathe. No matter how much he tried he just couldn't breathe correctly anymore.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

...

Exhale.

Inhaleexhale

Inhaleexhale

Inhaleexhale

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't fucking breathe!

No matter how much he tried, his fucking nonexistent lungs wouldn't take in any air for him.

He was dying.

He had to be.

He was in so much pain.

"I want do die!" He screamed as loud as he could, not caring if Gaster heard his dark thoughts anymore. "I want to die! I can't take it! Let me die!" Gaster did not answer in any certain way. Well, not verbally anyways. He just walked over, syringe in hand with a liquid that looked as if the color blue and yellow had been mixed in together. Gaster placed the syringe against Sans's neck and injected it into his neck, right into his bones and flooding into his magic stream.

Almost immediately, Sans's entire body began to burn with the new chemical already invading his system and attacking his frail HP. He let out a blood curdling scream.

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

But nobody came...

He performed experiments. Horribly painful experiments. He didn't conduct too many on you, but he did perform a few when I was locked up and unable to fight him. But he wasn't always like this.

OoOoOoO

"Sans! Sans, where are you?" A cheerful Gaster called out, searching for his only son, ready and excited to tell him the big news.

"Honey," Sans's mother said as she placed a gentle and caring hand on his shoulder, "he probably can't hear you. He's probably playing in his room."

Gaster sighed happily and fondly. "Of course. I'll go tell our little man the big news," He said before giving his loving wife a gentle kiss. He walked up the stairs and up to Sans's room. He knocked on the seven-going on eight-year old's room. "Sans, buddy, can I come in?" Sure enough, he could hear tiny sounds of plane noises being made from the young child. Once Sans heard his father's voice, he stopped making noises and gave a verbal answer.

"Yeah!"

Gaster turned the brass knob of Sans's door and pushed the door open, revealing Sans on the floor and on his back, a trashed toy plane in one hand and a little monster figurine in the other. Gaster gave a gentle chuckle before walking over to Sans's bed and sitting down on it. He patted his knee softly, beckoning his young son to come over to him. Sans stood from his position on the floor and walked over to his father and sat on his knee, Gaster bouncing him ever so slightly.

Gaster looked into his son's eye sockets, Sans's white pin pricks ever so vibrant and full of spark and life. Like a child's eyes should be. He let out a content sigh. "You know that your mother and I love you very much, right, bud?"

Sans gave a gentle nod. "Yeah," He said quietly. "You and Momma tell me that every night before I go to sleep." Sans had always been a child of very few words. He never spoke much unless a question was asked of him. When it came to free will, he spoke very rarely, and if he did it was either very quietly or to tell a joke or some assortment of pun.

Gaster smiled softly and held Sans close to him. "Well, your going to have a baby brother."

The way Sans's face lit up told a thousand words. He was so happy and excited. And he couldn't wait. He jumped up from Gaster's knee and onto his own feet, dancing in happiness.

He used to care what I thought. He used to care if I knew that he loved me or not. Which I'm sure that at one point he loved both of us. But...he changed.

OoOoOoO

"Sans!" The tone in Gaster's voice had changed quite significantly than what it hade used to be. The once caring tone had changed drastically over only a small matter of days. It scared Sans. As it should for an eight year old boy. Especially when they're not used to such an intimidating tone. Sans had immediately exited from his room that had also changed. The once warming and welcoming room was now gone. The racecar bed was gone. Now there was only a pile of dirty rags. There were no more toys. Now there was only wrist and neck shackles. There was no more carpeting. Gaster had taken the liberty to tear the carpet up himself leaving only the bittering cold concrete. It felt as if there were no walls at all, allowing the cold, crisp Snowdin air to have a free attack on the poor inhabitant's frail bones.

"Y-Yes, doctor?" Sans stuttered out as he peeked out from his door, glancing up at the tall adult. Gaster's face held a demeaning glare and an infuriated scowl.

"What did I say about socializing with other children?!" He bellowed, the infuriated glare upon his face never ending. Sans knew exactly what his father was talking about. The one night that Gaster had shattered Sans's leg, he had thrown him outside in the snow to sleep there for that night. It had been one of the most painful nights of Sans's life. Until that fish girl who had said her name was Undyne came by and offered help through another friend. It's not like he wanted to speak to them. He had honestly tried to turn the first girl away so he wouldn't get in trouble...but the offer of medical attention at the time had been too good to pass up.

"Sh-She t-talked to me f-f-first." Sans whispered, horrified to speak and frozen in fear, too scared to move.

Gaster scoffed. "Excuses, excuses!" Gaster screamed as he threw Sans's door open, revealing the room that looked more as a torture dungeon. As soon as Gaster threw Sans's door open violently, Sans fell to the ground with a crash, quickly trying to scamper away from his father backwards, scooting on his behind and his hands gripping the ground in clawing motions trying to get away from his menacing father. "I'm tired of your excuses!" He brought his hand down upon the child who tried oh so desperately to scamper away. But no matter where he tried to hid and no matter how loud he screamed, there was no escape at all for him. He thought about jumping out of the window, but he got scared because he figured that the drop would kill him.

Not that he really cared all that much.

Death was better than living in this agony.

And don't think that he hadn't thought of just giving up and jumping out of that window because that thought crossed his mind every single day like a train going about its daily schedule.

But he didn't.

Because if he died, his father would have an excuse to start torturing and abusing his baby brother.

So he dealt with the pain.

And he dealt with the guilt.

And he dealt with the yelling, the screaming, the voices, the memories.

He dealt with it all.

Because he knew that while he was yelling and screaming, his baby brother was just a little ways down the hall, sleeping and perfectly healthy and fine.

And so all the while Gaster brought his hands down on him followed by kicks which followed by several objects such as hammers, nail, wrenches, and another trip down to the lab for another round of test pills and injections, Sans dealt with it all.

And he screamed the entire time.

But that still doesn't change what he did. It doesn't change the nightmares he gave me or the memories that still haunt me. The only right thing he did in that time period of madness was keep you safe all the while I was harmed.

OoOoOoO

The day that that bastard disappeared was the second happiest day of my life.

He had awoken to a silent house. That in itself was strange. Normally there was always some assortment of sound, be it the wails from a hungry Papyrus, or the sound of some assortment of tool and test down in the lab. But that morning, silence had filled the small home. Sans had actually taken the liberty to look outside of his window to check to see if the daylight streaming in through the room was only an illusion and if it was really nighttime.

But no.

It was nearly ten in the morning, Sans could tell by how the light hit the snow on the outside ground. By now, Gaster had usually barged into his room and gave Sans the scraps from his breakfast. But that was normally at 8:30 in the morning. Sans sat in the corner of his room, too scared to get up and check the hallway for his father. And so he waited in his room for hours on end, the house staying frighteningly silent. He rocked back and forth a bit, arms wrapped around his legs. The ten year old didn't know what to do. He was so frightened.

And then he heard a sound.

It was a tiny little sound at first, nothing more than a plop.

And then came a rather roaring sound.

At first, Sans wasn't sure what to do. He got terrified as the silence transitioned into complete and utter chaos. He ran to his bed of rags and buried himself underneath it. But as the loud, roaring sound didn't cease, he soon realized what that sound what. He was confused. 'Father always feeds and changes Papyrus. Why is he crying', Sans wondered? Sans decided to stay in place and let his father take care of Papyrus so he wouldn't get in trouble for being outside of his room.

But the crying never ceased.

Even after an hour, the crying didn't stop.

At this point, Sans was so terribly confused, but he couldn't stand to hear his brother cry out in need. He undid the rags from his body and placed them back into the pile, but doing so very quietly and slowly, still awaiting for the presence of his father to be known in Papyrus's aid. But for the full extra ten minutes Sans waited, no aid came. So he finally courage up and opened his door. A crack at first, his eyes peering out and looking everywhere for a sign of life besides his crying two year old brother. But there wasn't any. No clothes were strewn about the hallway, and no other soul stepped into the hallway. The only signs of life that the house had to offer was the wailing of the two year old boy.

Sans fully opened his door. He looked around once more before finally walking to his baby brother's room. Well, the last time he had seen him, he had been a baby. Sans knew that Papyrus had grown a significant size since the last time he had seen him. He highly doubted that Papyrus even remembered him. Gaster had cut off any and all communications between his two sons, not wanting Sans to socialize with anyone, not even his own little brother. The last time Sans had seen Papyrus, Sans had still been eight.

Two, painfully long years without seeing his baby brother.

The only form of light he had in his life.

The only thing to remember his mother goodbye.

He was finally seeing for the first time in two years.

He wasn't ready, and he highly doubted that Papyrus was either. Especially when Papyrus wouldn't have a familiar face to trust.

But despite it all, Sans opened the door that led to Papyrus's room. He saw Papyrus on the floor, wailing and sobbing tears of mystery. Orange tears rolling down his cheeks, he was confused and...he looked in pain. It didn't take Sans long to figure out that Papyrus had climbed out of his crib and fell onto the floor, but Sans was too frozen to his place. Papyrus had grown so much.

He knew that he could no longer nearly fit into the palm of Sans's hand. He could no longer be swaddled and held in his arms like a tiny baby. He was the size of a toddler. A curious, tiny, toddler. He finally made a move to the toddler, tiny shuffling steps. He stopped in front of him before kneeling down. "H-Hey, P-Papyrus." Sans stuttered out.

This made Papyrus stop crying almost immediately. He studied the face in front of him. He placed his hands on the ground, stepping up and looking at Sans closer. Sans hadn't seen the face in front of him in years. Not since he had tried to escape with him when Papyrus was two months old, only to be drug back by his father and harshly beaten and sealed away from Papyrus. Papyrus placed a tiny hand on Sans's cheek near his left eye. The eye that Sans was now blind in. A light orange glow emitted from Papyrus's hand that caused Sans's vision in his bad eye to flicker. At one moment, he could see out of it before it flickered back into darkness and repeat the process over and over again. In the end, the orange glow stopped at around two minutes.

'His magic isn't that strong', Sans thought. Of course it wasn't. Papyrus was only two after all. After scanning the young toddler over quickly, searching for any bumps, bruises or scrapes. He found none. He gathered the squirmy two year old up in his arms and headed downstairs. He placed the young skeletal boy on the couch before he, too, plopped down on the sofa. It felt like a treat, being this close to his little brother and being able to rest on something as luxurious as a sofa.

He was going to wait until their father came home, taking care of Papyrus in turn.

The hours began to tick by as if they were nothing.

4:02

5:17

6:23

7:38

8:59

Where was he?

In the four hours Sans had continued to watch Papyrus, their father had not come home once. While Sans pondered the conundrum over in his head, Papyrus sat on the floor, playing with building blocks that Sans could only help but feel familiar with. He knew Papyrus had a majority of his old toys, but Sans didn't mind. He'd much rather Papyrus have them. Besides, he didn't need them. After the day had passed and night had fallen upon them, Sans had fallen asleep with Papyrus on the couch.

By the time morning came again, nothing had changed. And no matter what had happened, Sans knew one thing.

W. D. Gaster was gone.

Sorry for not posting in a while! I've been a bit preoccupied. Did you like it, love it, hate it? Let me know! Reviews are appreciated :)