In which I LIIIIIIIIIVE
Leaves. Golden. Amber. Golden. Blaze of orange. Downslope, a patch of incandescent yellow. Wind.
..He was in an elevator, and it was rising, slowly. Sans was saying something about his mechanical skills. Gaster understood the gist of it—the elevator was working—without absorbing the words.
One of the children threw leaves into the air. They floated slowly down, some drifting on the air like tiny gliders, some twisting over and over and over. He was mesmerized by the interplay of light and shadow.
Alphys. Alphys was there now, standing with her tail tucked around her feet.
"—did y-you increase the, the elevator engine's RPM for no reason? A-and then bring it back to normal?"
"Regrettably," Gaster heard his own voice saying, and it startled him. "You should have been there to stop me. I didn't realize you were awake still."
Alphys looked strangely at him.
"Are you alright?" she said.
Of course he was alright.
What were the correct words for transmitting that sentiment?
"He just fainted," said Sans. "Where's Dr. Mary?"
"He—he wha-at? What did you do to him?"
Nothing. Say it. 'Nothing, Alphys, I was being stupid.'
Words. Nothing.
The human child raised the monster child from the leaves and he strained to see their face. He could see the child: radiant, soft, black-tipped floppy ears, but the human's face was turned away. He tried to recreate the memory, but it was in shadow.
"Gaster?"
That was Alphys. She looked worried.
"What? I'm perfectly fine."
"What did I just ask you, then?"
"…Alright, I'm… seventy-five-percent fine."
Alphys and Sans exchanged a look.
"I dunno, think it's safe to let him go to sleep like this?" said Sans. Alphys gave a nervous shrug. "Well, which room is Dr. Mary's? Wait up, I think she was still upstairs when I was testing the elevator the first time. Think she's still up?"
"Uh… I-I haven't heard anyone come down? Why would she still be up?"
"I dunno, maybe still unpacking supplies? Maybe she wants to have everything ready in case someone immediately gets a bad lava burn first thing in the morning."
Sunlight flickering in patches of shaded gold as the wind moved the leaves above.
"…we're going up now Dr. Gaster," said Sans, nudging him back into the elevator.
Gaster carefully did not cry.
Sunlight.
He would never see that again.
What was wrong with him?!
He was startled back into the present when the doors slid open and to display Mary right in front of them with her arms full of boxes. She yelped and one slid to the floor with a crack of jostled glass. She scurried to gather it up, brushing Sans away when he tried to help.
Distraction, confused lines, all tangled up. A snatch of song. He reached for it, it faded away. What was that tune? He couldn't recall. Why did he feel so lost?
He was sitting on a cot in a brightly lit room while Mary took his pulse.
"What did you do?"
"Me?" he said.
"Yes, you."
"Fooled around with my weapon constructs unnecessarily. I was already a bit tired, I must have overtaxed myself."
"Does your chest hurt?"
"Hm? A bit."
"You didn't find that concerning?"
"A lot of things hurt. I mean, I probably just thought it was the collarbone."
"You've had a soul flicker."
"Really?"
"You knew this was possible, yes?"
"For me?"
"Ooooooh God." Mary slowly rubbed her face through her paws.
"I mean. Of course for me. I mean yes?"
"I signed up for this? Why did I sign up for this?"
"Am I a bit of a handful?" said Gaster, smiling. Mary pulled her face free of her paws, momentarily stretching out her cheeks.
"Two handfuls, but it's worth it to keep you alive. Lie down." Gaster hopped down to the floor and lay on his back. "I'm keeping you here the night."
"Am I OK?"
"Should be. It's just a precaution."
"OK. Hey, I don't have to worry about forgetting our appointment now."
"One would hope." She rummaged through some drawers, then noticed that Sans and Alphys were still there. "He's fine, really. He just needs to rest. And not do stupid things." She gave Gaster a Look.
"Oh yeah about that, I had something I meant to ask you," he said.
"The answer is probably no," said Mary.
"I was thinking of sparring—"
"No."
"With Sans."
"No."
"To help him develop his magic."
"Triple no."
"Yeah that's what I said," said Sans. "Uh, didn't seem like a good idea."
"Sans. You too?"
"It really doesn't seem like a good idea to me! No offense, it'd be great and that's very kind of you but no. At least one of us would faint. I don't want to be either the one who gets brought in on a stretcher or the one who feels guilty about pushing the other one too hard."
"Maybe if you're worried about us fainting we should both get some exercise," observed Gaster.
"Excellent idea!" said Mary. "Exercise. Not sparring. Just some gentle jogging or step aerobics. Start slow. I'll coach you."
"No, that's…. boring."
"Do you wanna live?"
"Yes."
"Please start listening to me."
"I listen to you, Mary, and I kindly reject your helpful and probably very insightful suggestions."
"Take this." She handed him a pill and a paper cup of water. He sat up to take them.
Now.
It's late, everyone is asleep. You're asleep, almost.
Do you still want to cry about sunlight on amber leaves?
Yes, he did.
You don't know anything for certain. You don't even know if that's a real memory. It may have been only a dream. Surely you dreamed while you were in that state?
He wasn't sure. But in any case, the scene on the hilltop had come to symbolize everything he feared losing.
They weren't going to get up on the hilltop by murdering children.
The children on the hilltop were happy and free, as children should be. They seemed infinitely far away. From another time. The wrong time. Lost forever, now that he was tied down.
For a moment, he strongly wanted to leave, disappear, melt into nothing. A strange blend of homesickness and love ached deep inside him.
That's despair, isn't it? Stop thinking about the sunlight on the hill and get to work. You belong here.
Now go to sleep, he told himself.
He slept, and then it was morning. He was alive. His mind had settled into a workable pattern, activity hanging along strands that ran parallel and did not tangle. He could think clearly in multiple directions at once. His chest ached only very dully. Pain levels everywhere else were about normal. He sat up carefully, stretching his arms and adjusting his jacket. He felt a bit weak, but no more than he sometimes did just after getting up. Of course, it didn't go away immediately, but he trusted that it would in time. He'd be alright.
He had a speech to memorize.
Mary, who had been dozing in her chair in her office when he last saw her, had found it too uncomfortable some time during the night and moved onto the cot. He woke her and asked if the coffeepot sitting on the counter was functional.
"It better be," she said.
A/N: I'M NOT DEAD
HI
SORRY ABOUT THAT
HEY
IS THERE LIKE
IS THERE EVEN ANYONE STILL HERE
*screams into void* HELLOOOOOOOO
Anyways, this is shortish but this seemed like a natural stopping point and I'm just glad that it's done so it's going up immediately!
Also, soul flickers. Kinda like a heart attack but not.
Yeah sorry about that. I just. I just didn't. I didn't have a good time with writing. For a long time. But while I was struggling to throw off the writer's block I wrote a longish oneshot about Gaster and Grillbz' history (it's like, 100% depression/apocalyptic angst sooo) called An Element of Blank, also two flashfics for visual artists' Gasters, So Far (badster mad science-ster) and Night Watch (dadster.) I also had a low-grade-fever-induced stress dream that suggested a dystopian Sansby fic, which I, against my usual tendencies to not write ships at all basically, started serializing and posting on Tumblr. So yeah, that's there. Go on my page and look for 'Dystopian Sansby Dream AU' or 'Crisco 129' if you want to see it. It's very different from my normal stuff and kinda sloppy cuz I was really just doing it to be writing -something- while I tried to get back into the swing of things, but if you happen to like both dystopian things and Sansby… or if you just like reading things inspired by other people's fever dreams…
Also, more great art from Goshawk-Gyrefalcon!
goshawk-gyrefalcon dot deviantart dot com /art/CORE-Doodlies-but-Nicer-685005062
goshawk-gyrefalcon dot deviantart dot com /art/Happy-Birthday-Trefoil-underscore-685326856
NOW LET'S SEE IF I CAN ACTUALLY KEEP WRITING THIS TIME HAHAHAHAHAHA I am so sorry.
I HAVE PLANS I SWEAR I JUST
I JUST NEED TO ACTUALLY IMPLEMENT THEM I
I CAN'T WRITE WHEN I CAN'T WRITE AND IT'S NOT FUN ASDKFLWEJKJSDFJSLAJD