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Not with a Bang but with

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
The Royal Scientist

Warnings for mentions/implications of depression, alcoholism, and PTSD depictions.

Quick disclaimer, this story definitely isn't intended to be Papyton. I don't really have a problem with the ship, I just don't ship it myself so it won't enter my work. I'm a huge fan of aro-ace Papyrus, being ace myself, and Papyrus's admiration of Mettaton here is just intended to be platonic celebrity admiration, like in the game, but I guess if you prefer to read into it as implied Papyton, you can if you want? Just don't expect it to amount to anything, haha.

oOo

When Sans was twenty-three, he returned to the labs.

oOo

To his torturer's credit, time progressed.

It progressed slowly, agonisingly, and on one glorious occasion nearly a year went by before that year was set back by over a month, but it progressed.

There were good timelines. Many treated of extraordinary developments taking place at the CORE, for instance. But more often, they were good because nothing particularly interesting happened – not that Sans heard of anyway. Life went on at its usual, casual pace, and that was safe.

But there were bad ones, too – the anomaly was such a curious little thing, after all. Timelines that tasted of fear, of blood, whose air was choked with dust and tattered scraps of hope.

These timelines didn't tend to last long. In one timeline, all the CORE workers were trapped inside and presumably murdered one by one. The effects only lasted three days before the timeline reset, back to before a single person was hurt at all.

The case was similar for all bad timelines – as a rule, the anomaly would eventually fix things and Reset, almost out of some twisted sense to remain good.

It was almost like a child, one whose eyes were perpetually bright with mischief, but who always came home to confess to its mother at the end of the day, guilty, when it knew it had overstepped.

Then came the Reset, and everything was forgotten, because mothers are always forgiving.

Timeline after timeline, rearranging and rewriting itself.

Again.

Again.

Again.

But still, time progressed.

His body began to fail him. It came out in slumped shoulders and a perpetual tiredness. It came out in a heaviness on his soul, and an itch for drink.

Over the course of the timelines, there was one thing that kept Sans going: his brother. His very own babybones, always so energetic, so eager, so overwhelmingly kind, who seemed to have the capacity to keep a smile on both their faces no matter what – it was more than Sans deserved, certainly.

Not that he was much of a babybones anymore. At sixteen, Papyrus had shot up nearly a foot and a half taller than Sans and vaguely resembled a lamppost.

And there was one other thing, too: a lingering, twisted curiosity that quickly lent way to desperation. For it didn't seem to matter how many timelines he lived through – he could never find the anomaly. By this point, chances that the anomaly was a human were all but null, he came to realise. A human would have been found out by now, its soul claimed by the King, and all this would be over.

Sans often wondered what he would do, if he found it. It was unlikely he could just get it to feel guilty and stop, for it had all but proved its tampering with time was thoroughly intentional.

If Sans killed it, it would just Reload back to its old Save file again.

Discovering the anomaly would accomplish nothing, ultimately. It wouldn't change what was happening to the timeline, and it wouldn't give Sans any more control, or bring him any more comfort.

And yet, Sans wanted to. He wanted to find the anomaly. He wasn't entirely sure why – maybe he felt it would lessen his feelings of desperation and powerlessness ever so slightly. Maybe he felt it would sate the lingering curiosity he still had, despite everything.

Maybe he felt that, if he knew who or what the anomaly was, he could keep it from hurting Papyrus. Granted, his brother had not been touched by the anomaly yet. Yet. The anomaly had tried out so many different things over the timelines, over the years. Some things were inevitable.

Or maybe discovering it would accomplish none of those things.

Sans still wanted to.

The new Royal Scientist was hired a little before Papyrus started eleventh grade.

oOo

Her name was Doctor Alphys, and she'd been the talk of the Underground for weeks. And not just because of the fact that they finally had a Royal Scientist after the position having been empty for so many years, either. Doctor Alphys was, at twenty-one, only a couple years younger than Sans – unfathomably young to be taking up one of the most important and prestigious positions in the Kingdom.

She was an engineer by trade, and had been working at the CORE since she graduated high school. Her great accomplishment, of course, was the creation of Mettaton, the robot with a soul. She was native to Hotland but had apparently moved house to the public laboratory near the Waterfall border. In the wake of her employment, she had been visited by a barrage of enthusiastic visitors, though civilians were quickly starting to gain more interest in her creation than in the gifted scientist herself. The robot was a lot more inclined to the publicity than Alphys was. It had only been a few months and already Mettaton had his own cooking show, fashion show, and line of merchandise.

Doctor Alphys had consumed Sans's thoughts, too.

Sans wasn't interested in Mettaton, one way or the other, though Papyrus had become addicted to his programming recently. It was pretty bizarre, seeing his brother sitting on the sofa and glued to the TV set – normally he condemned practises of such a sedentary lifestyle.

Sans wasn't even interested in Alphys, exactly.

He was interested in her resources.

Sans still remembered the time Gaster had showed him and his brother those readings from the Void, a long thirteen years ago. He still remembered the numbers that scrolled endlessly up the screen, zeroes and ones and zeroes and ones and zeroes and ones. And he still remembered the half-finished machine, the anomaly detector.

Was it still down there, in the labs? Were the rest of Gaster's things? Doctor Alphys had surely tried to make the space her own, but anyone with a scrap of sense would at least try to figure out what the old Royal Scientist had been up to, especially when the rest of the Underground couldn't remember a second thing about their work, or even who they were.

Sans took solace in the fact that Gaster's reports, the reports and files on him and his brother, were written in Wingdings, incomprehensible to anyone but another skeleton.

It was a dangerous, foolish move, he knew. She looked nice enough on television – Sans was even strongly inclined to say sweet – but that wasn't enough grounds to prove anything.

Sans asked the King about her once, and Asgore's eyes seemed to shine as he spoke of her.

"You two would get along grandly, I think," King Asgore had said. "Painfully – painfully – shy, but she really is such a nice girl, and with your enthusiasm for science…"

That still didn't prove anything. Gaster had been well-liked in the Underground, too, even if he'd never been sweet, exactly.

Sans went to her anyway.

oOo

He took a day off work for his intended visit, and King Asgore was more than happy to grant it to him, saying something about Sans overworking himself.

It had taken him three hours since Papyrus left for school at 8:15 to work up the courage and the willpower to make his way to Hotland. Now, factoring in the walk, it was just past noon, and here Sans stood, before the looming public laboratory.

The exterior structure hadn't undergone any renovations since the new Royal Scientist had been hired. He was faced with a pair of automatic doors like steel jaws, clamped tightly shut. A sign above the doors read simply, ominously, "LAB."

Sans closed his eyes. He raised his fist, and knocked on the door. Under different circumstances, he might have tried to think up a knock-knock joke.

On the other side of the door, silence.

Sans paused, opening his eyes and tilting his head to one side. He waited a moment, then tried again. Knock-knock, who's there? Nobody, apparently.

It seemed the excuse he'd been waiting for. The Royal Scientist must be out, or downstairs tending to her latest project. There, now he didn't have to face her, didn't have to see any more labs again.

But thought of the anomaly gave him pause. Even as he reflected on how hideously pointless it was, he lifted his hand again – this time to press down on the doorbell.

A pause. Then what sounded vaguely like a yelp, though it was quite muffled behind the metal door.

Scrabbling noises, followed by a shout – "H-hello! Hey! Um, just hang on a sec – be, be right there!"

More scrabbling noises. Sans could hear the sound of claws scraping against tile. Then, the metal doors opened with a whoosh, and he took in the sight of Doctor Alphys.

She was a lot smaller than Sans had been anticipating – he'd gotten the impression she was small from what he'd seen of her on television, but then everyone was small next to the King. It made a monster's height difficult to gauge. But Doctor Alphys only had an inch or two on Sans if that, not counting her headspikes. She was covered in tough, yellow scales. A round pair of glasses was perched crookedly on her snout.

She was also not wearing a lab coat, but rather, what appeared to be an oversized purple pyjama top covered in glittery hearts.

"Um… hi!" She broke into what seemed a friendly grin. "C-can I help you?"

Sans tensed, stuffing his hands quickly into his pockets, and offered her a grin of his own. Then it occurred to him he probably ought to treat the Royal Scientist of the Underground with a little respect, so he removed one hand from his pocket and, after taking a moment of trying to decide what to do with it, held it out in a shake. "Uh… Doctor Alphys?"

She seemed puzzled by his extended hand, but took it nonetheless, shaking it almost gingerly. "Um... yep! That's me! Though, uh, just Alphys is good, aheh… d-do you want to – I mean, what's your name – I mean, c-come in! I mean, both those things!" She stepped out of the way of the door, hopping seemingly nervously from foot to foot.

Sans remained where he stood. He craned his neck and tilted his head subtly, trying to get a better view of the lab. "Uh… name's Sans. And I was just gonna ask for a favour, if you ain't too busy – " He paused another moment, then took a single hesitant step into the lab. He could feel the tiles beneath his slippered feet, and stopped.

Doctor Alphys seemed to take this for sarcasm on his part, and blushed. "Oh! Y-yeah, sorry about the whole… j-just got up, haha… I was up late last night doing, um, science! Yeah! Really important science stuff! Because that's my job!" She scampered into the lab, then ushered him in. "C'mon in… here, just give me a second to change into my lab coat – "

"That's okay." Sans took another steps inside. "Don't worry about it. I don't really mind." The doors slid automatically shut behind him and he flinched. "But yeah, if you ain't too busy, I, uh – "

"Oh! Um, n-no. No, I'm not… " Doctor Alphys hurried over to the computer desk and began to stack the papers there into piles without looking at what they were. "S-sorry the desk's a mess, I can just – "

"Don't worry about it," he said simply.

Actually, the entire lab was a mess – it looked as if several bombs had gone off inside of it at the same time, and that a horde of high Temmies had gone on a rampage through the wreckage afterward. The computer desk was covered in so many papers, Sans couldn't see an inch of its surface underneath them all. A stack of empty boxes of instant noodles towered over their heads in one corner of the desk. Lined up against the walls were piles of empty cardboard boxes, bizarre metal contraptions Sans could only guess were her own invention, and a crate overflowing with wires.

The mess was a small comfort, but standing here still hit a little too close to home.

"Hey, um, are you okay?" Doctor Alphys's voice snapped him from his reverie, and he realised she was standing directly in front of him, twiddling her claws with a look of deep concern on her face. "It's just that you're, uh, standing kinda stiff… "

Sans flinched, then forced his shoulders to relax and said the first thing that came into his head. "Oh. Yeah. Just cold, I guess."

Her concern shifted to deep confusion. "W-we're in Hotland."

"Yeah, well, I'm a funny guy." Sans shrugged, and an awkward silence fell between them.

Alphys broke it. Or rather, the swivel chair at her computer desk broke it, as she nudged it toward him. There was a hideously pink cushion in the shape of a cat's face on the seat. "Well, uh, I was up so late last night doing that, um, really, really important science like I already established and – that is, why don't you, do you want to sit down? And uh, you can finally tell me how I can help you." She giggled uncomfortably when Sans didn't answer straight away, and the chair squeaked as she nudged it a little closer toward him. "A-are you sure you don't want me to change? Sorry, I'm in my PJs, this is totally unprofessional – "

"No, it's fine," Sans repeated, and sat down gingerly on the edge of the chair. Doctor Alphys pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the desk in front of him. She had to shove several papers aside to make room. "I'd walk around in my pyjamas all day too if I could."

Doctor Alphys blushed, but smiled at him. "S-so… the whole helping thing… ?"

"Right." Sans wished he'd planned his speech ahead of time. "So, uh, you know the old Royal Scientist, right? This used to be his old lab. I was just wondering if all his old stuff is down there. Science stuff, I mean." He paused again, let the words hang in the air.

Doctor Alphys tilted her head to one side, visibly perplexed. "Uh… I mean… I guess so? Th-there's a few rooms of stuff down there, like in a kind of storage locker. I-I've been looking through it, 'cause, you know, but I don't know what any of it is. And uh, m-most of the files are in this really weird language, I can't read it. See, th-there's this corridor that was supposed to have been offices or something, I guess, and they offered to clear them out but I said it was okay because I was… you know… curious… " She had resumed twiddling her claws together. "D-do you know something about it?"

"Sure," Sans shrugged. "I guess you could say I know a bit." He leaned back slightly in his chair, letting it swivel from side to side, producing a hint of a squeaking sound that was ever so slightly grating on the ears. While doing this, he kept his eyes carefully on Doctor Alphys; he had never been allowed to play with the swivel chairs before. But it didn't seem to bother her.

Alphys hesitated. "D-do you mind if I ask how? B-because um, nobody knows anything about the old Royal Scientist. I-I didn't even know he was a he. For some reason, I don't imagine anyone did." She frowned. "I don't even really know why. Why nobody knows about him, I mean. I asked lots of different people when I was working at the CORE, but nobody knew. A-and the King doesn't know either." A shadow passed over her face. "I… I feel like I should know something about the old Royal Scientist, you know? Not just b-because I'm the new one, even though I actually should, but because like… " She trailed off for a moment. "I don't know. It was a really long time ago, I guess. M-maybe it doesn't matter. But how do you know?"

"Ah… " Sans scratched the back of his head. "That's kinda complicated. Too complicated to explain. You're right, it don't matter. But look, all his old science stuff. You're tellin' me it's still down there?"

"Um… yes?" Doctor Alphys paused. "Listen, I-I'm just a little lost." She stepped toward him. "I'd love to help, okay? I really would. But you – you still haven't told me exactly what you need, and, um… s-saying it's complicated doesn't really… answer anything I want to know."

"Yeah, well. Maybe another time." He leaned forward. "Listen. I'm looking for this… machine. It should be down there."

"Th-there's a lot of machines," Alphys said pointedly.

"Yeah, well, this one's sorta… box-shaped. Yeah, like an oblong box. 'bout twice our height. Should have a little screen on one side, near the top. Metal?" he added, at Alphys's blank stare.

"Oh, yeah. That really narrows it down," she sighed.

"Sorry." He'd only seen it once after all.

"Well… okay, fine, maybe the height thing narrows it down a tiny bit. A tiny bit." She glanced over at the elevator. "Y-you can come down with me and try to find it if you want." She broke into a friendly little smile, inviting, that showed off her teeth.

Sans surreptitiously scooted his chair back, feeling the tension re-enter his bones, his soul. "I'm good."

"No, come on." She hopped down from the desk and motioned again toward the elevator. "I mean, you have a better idea of what it looks like than I do. You have a better grip on this whole… situation, I guess. I, uh, still don't know how you know so much about this stuff, but m-maybe we can talk about it later, like you said. Anyway, as for the lab, yeah! I-it's really not super private or anything, I-I mean. You're welcome to come! There's no bodies down there or anything, aheh." Doctor Alphys paused. "I mean, monsters turn to dust when they die, so… that joke doesn't really… make any sense… okay, yeah, that was stupid, nevermind. But the point still stands that there aren't. Bodies. Or dust, for that matter. Well, there is the other kind of dust, e-especially in those old offices, because I never, um, go there to clean. Not that I clean the part of the labs I actually use either, I really need to get around to that someday… "

A part of Sans was comforted by these words, by the implication that Doctor Alphys had nothing to hide. But still the feeling in his soul tightened until he felt he could scarcely breathe. He hadn't had cause to truly think about Gaster in a long time, but now memories were starting to flood back, crashing hard against the dam he'd built in his mind to keep them out. Hands, cold hands, bone hands, His hands, clasping his soul and squeezing it tight, re-claiming it as their own.

His eye flared. Then both of his sockets went dark. "I'm good."

Alphys looked frightened. "Okay," she said. "You don't have to."

Sans's shoulders sagged, his soul relaxed, the hands disappearing. He managed to crack a grin, and he was aware of his eyelights fading back into existence. "Sorry. Just, uh, don't like basements," he said, lamely.

"Oh! Yeah! I get that," she smiled at him, and Sans suddenly noted the way her eyes darted about a little nervously, even as she spoke to him. That they'd been doing that from the start. He became a little more keenly aware, too, of the twiddling of her claws in a seeming need to keep her hands busy. "I get that," repeated Doctor Alphys. "Um, can I admit something?"

"Sure," Sans said on a shrug.

Alphys looked relieved. "I'm, um, not really great at the whole talking-to-people thing? I just tend to get k-kinda nervous when I do? But… not so much with you? Y-you just seem really nice, I guess, and, um… " She paused, then groaned, rubbing at her temples. "Ugh, why am I telling you this, you don't know me, you don't need to hear about me, what's wrong with me, that's not what you're here for…"

"No. No, hey, it's okay." Sans said it automatically, but he realised he meant it.

Doctor Alphys smiled a little. "I'm not too busy these days," she began. "You could leave me your number and then I could go down and look for it. I-I mean, it's still probably Royal property or something, but, um… what do you want to do with it? Exactly? Like, I-I think it's cool you know this but you still haven't told me how, which is kind of a big deal and I don't mind helping but, like, this is really irresponsible of me and I probably should have asked you all that before now..." She shuffled uneasily in place and groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Ugh, forget PJs, this is unprofessional, I suck at this job. And, um, for that matter… what is it? The machine?"

Of course, it had been going too well. He didn't exactly have any ownership over the machine. It was more than a wonder she wasn't showing any signs of suspicion at all. He could be anyone, could be trying to do anything with it. It had been stupid of him to even consider visiting the labs, to even toy with the option of the Royal Scientist helping some skeleton who came out of nowhere. Had he really thought he would just be given the machine, no strings attached? Even if he'd been anticipating buying the machine, he wouldn't have been able to come close to affording it.

Sans stuffed his hands into his pockets. He would have had to explain the machine's function anyway, and since he was already here, he might as well play his last card and try his luck.

"So way back when the old Royal Scientist was still around, he started work on this machine." Sans paused and glanced over at the desk. "Got a pen and paper to spare?"

Doctor Alphys jumped. "Oh! Yeah! Sure! Right over here!" She scurried over to the desk and began to rummage through a toppled stack of papers. At last she found a small notepad of stationary, and after some more digging found a pink gel pen, and handed both to him.

Sans snatched them up as he stood, and leaned over the spot of empty desk that Alphys had been occupying previously. "So before I forget here's my number at the top… " He scrawled it down quickly, then at the bottom of the page he drew a hasty sketch of the machine from memory. He circled the drawing, then tapped the centre of the page with the tip of his pen. "This is the machine. Should be about twice our size, like I said. Maybe even a little more'n that. When you get access to the side corridor you should find it in this room with this huge monitor screen on one wall, but I might be wrong about that.

"So what this machine does is detect an anomaly – that's a Determined being with the power to manipulate and reset time however it wants. The Royal Scientist's name for it, not mine. This thing is relentless, and dangerous. It could be a human, or it could be something else too. A monster down here, even. I don't know. And I need to finish the machine to, well, detect it. If it's down here," he added hastily. "Which is, uh, totally a hypothetical, but when the future of the Underground's at stake I figure it's best to play safe and be prepared." He coughed, hoping he sounded convincing enough and not off his rocker, which was far more likely by this point, then ambled on.

"And I'll also need… the files that go with it. It should contain everything we need to know. I can fix the machine, but to do that I need a starting point. I only know what it does, not how it works, but with the files, and enough time, I can figure it out. Blueprints would be helpful too. Because the project was passed on to the King and later abandoned, chances are the files were translated into English and then logged in the Royal Archives, so we won't need to, uh, decode out the originals." He looked up at her, finally.

Alphys fell silent, taking all of this in. "W-wow," she murmured. "Okay. And here I thought you wanted me to get you a contract to go on Mettaton's show or something, th-that's what most people come by here for … "

Sans found himself smiling a little, amused, hopping down from the chair. "Nah. Not really a big fan – no offence."

"None taken." Alphys shifted, looking off to the side a moment.

"My baby brother is, though, so who knows, he might come by."

Alphys looked up, fondness in her eyes. "Y-you have a baby brother?"

Sans's grin widened. "Yeah. Well, he ain't really a baby anymore, he's sixteen, but he'll always be my babybones. Papyrus. He's the coolest. And the big guy's totally hooked on Mettaton's show, he watches the channel all the time. Like, really hooked. You got no idea. When he ain't talkin' about joining the Guard, or nagging me for not doin' the chores, he's off gushing 'bout the MTT Network. Already asking to get all the merch for Gyftmas, too. Years of painstakingly carvin' his sandwiches into little bones or maze patterns for lunch, and all of a sudden he's demanding rectangles." Sans shook his head.

"Isn't that less work?"

"Heh. Good point. And y'know, I'm a pretty lazy guy. I like a good slacking off, y'know? I mean, hell, I'm supposed to be at work right now. But he's my brother. I liked cutting up those sandwiches for him."

"Oh. Your parents didn't do that?"

"Nah. It's just us. 's only ever been the pair of us."

Beat. "Oh. Oh! I see! Oh, gee, I – I'm sorry, I didn't think – so you're an orphan – I mean, I didn't mean – that is, I – I'm really sorry – "

"Don't be," said Sans simply.

Alphys dropped the subject, looking rather grateful. "So, I'll just, um, go look for that machine then, and, um… "

Sans nodded once. "I appreciate it. Thank you." He was unsettled by the words coming from his own mouth, of their dual weight and simplicity.

He turned to go, then, paused, just as the automatic doors slid open.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment.

Alphys cleared her throat. "H-hey! Just before you go. You said the files were probably translated in the Royal Archive, right? You're free to come with me and look sometime… if you're free… "

Sans hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah. It's sort of a one-person job anyway. Thanks anyway, though."

"Not really," he caught her mumble under her breath, but was thankful she didn't push any further. Instead, she said, in the tone of one blurting something out quite without meaning to, "Hey! Um, do you mind if I… ask you something?"

He shrugged. "Depends on the question."

"Well, you just know so much, and it's really, really amazing, so, so I was just wondering, like… who did you study under? I-I mean. You must have studied at the CORE, right, after school?" Her eyes lit up. "Ooh! That's who taught you all this stuff, isn't it? Ooh! I-I bet they knew the Royal Scientist! They were his… his friend –– no, his partner – no, his secret lover! And they worked on the project together! And… and after their lover the Scientist died they were so wrought with grief they swore to keep the project a secret b-because they never wanted to complete it without their one true love taken from them too soon, and keep it a secret they did! Until! They were assigned a proficient young student with an unbridled passion for things relating to the timeline, and they knew that this was it, that they had to teach you everything, and they did that too! And recently, they died tragically too, and the last time you two spoke, they passed on the secret knowledge of the project to you, and out of devotion to your inspirational mentor, you've taken it to heart as your secret mission and… and… " She seemed to sense Sans's mounting confusion then, and cut herself off, scales having turned a fierce shade of scarlet. "S-so yeah, aheh… who did you study under, again?"

For Alphys's sake, Sans chose not to comment on that first bit. He couldn't really think of anything to say anyway. So instead he just said, "Study at the CORE? Who, me? Aw, nah. I could never get a position there even if I wanted one. Never actually finished fifth grade."

The expression on her face at that remark was priceless. And that was how Sans chose to leave her.

oOo

That night, Sans dreamed many dreams, in rapid succession. He dreamed of his childhood, of the dark, and of vines, which came tearing up from the ground like some creature long repressed.