In which the truth is told.
Psammites was hungry. He walked back and forth across Gaster's lap, making short high kittenish cries. Gaster was slowly drinking a cup of coffee while Mary filled in a sheet of paper.
"Are you done?" he asked when he noticed that she hadn't written anything down for a while. Silently she flipped the clipboard over and showed it to him. It was a chart of a humanoid form, labeled Gaster (Consolas) and heavily marked and annotated.
"That's a lot of ink," said Gaster, since she seemed to be waiting for him to say something.
"Thank you for that concession," she said, lowering the clipboard. "I was beginning to be concerned about your mental state."
Gaster laughed uncomfortably.
"How so?"
"Your reaction so far to injuries isn't normal. Is your pain level so high that injuries just don't register?"
"No no it's not quite that bad, thank God. Haha, I might just die."
"Then what's wrong with you?"
"….It's… partly that, but not really?"
"Take your time, I just want to understand." She sat on the counter and crossed her legs.
"It's distracting. Chronic pain is distracting. So I just… learned to tune it out?"
(His awareness of pain was confined to its own strand, on the very lowermost rung of his consciousness. He was aware of it as a distant, pesky buzz.)
"Which works quite well I think, actually. I was rather proud of myself after I got the hang of it. Um. But apparently I do it too much and tune out new pain as well as chronic pain."
"Hmm. I admire your detachment but it's not safe to ignore symptoms, which generally exist to let you know that there's a problem."
Gaster nodded, vaguely wanting to argue this but realizing that it was true.
"Yeah that's a bit of a problem."
"All your old wounds look more or less stable. Don't overwork yourself, and do try to get some gentle exercise. I still think you should get a splint on that collarbone and take painkillers in the meantime. I have a good supply, and I hope we won't need them for anything else, besides the occasional headache."
"I'll think about it."
"Will you really think about it or do you just want me to stop talking?"
"I'll really think about it. I've already thought about materials. For the splint. Iron is too reactive to magic, gold is too soft, and silver would burn right through and make the problem worse than it is."
"I think hardened gold is usually used. Although, you have a point, it might not be best for a splint this large."
"Also it's hard to get."
"Also that."
"I've been hoping to get my hands on some titanium, it sounds wonderful and I'd love to tests its magic reactivity. But I don't think we have any ore down here and there isn't exactly a lot washing down with the trash."
"Do you have any ideas, then?"
"Maybe. Wood might work, actually. It doesn't react with biological magic and has a high tensile strength, like bone, but you have to carve it carefully and it would probably end up being very clunky. And you'd still need to use pins of some sort of metal, I think. Not worth it. One thing I'm very interested in is scael. It's an alloy the Temmies make and use for armor and tools."
"Temmies make armor? For what?"
"Why does anyone make armor?"
"True."
Mary poured herself another cup of coffee and downed half of it, then looked appraisingly at Gaster and Psammites. She placed the clipboard to the side.
"What's on your mind?" she asked. "Or did you lie about how good you were feeling?"
"Iiiii have to come up with a speech."
"For what?"
"Now."
"Why?"
"We might have a Crawler problem."
"And you just found this out how?"
"I was apparently supposed to know already, but I didn't. I'm pretty sure Suger was messing with me. But it's still my bad." He sighed and ruffled Psammites' fur. "I'm not sure I can deal with being responsible for the wellbeing of twenty-two people."
"Me neither," said Mary, smiling. "Now, what? I don't understand what happened."
Gaster ramblingly and resentfully told her about the email fiasco.
"And I am angry," he concluded. "And also confused. Mostly angry."
He held Psammites to his face, gently, because of his old bones.
"That's a very chill angry," said Mary. "You're right, you need to tell everyone today."
"Mmhmm. And in a way that makes more sense than how I just told you. I also need to avoid breaking off into swearing at Suger because that's not professional dammit and I am better than that. Even though he oh there I go. I hate this."
"Can I give everyone a quick talk on safety measures? I could go first if you don't want to start."
"That… is very kind of you. I should probably go first." He would have liked to let her go first, but that was cowardice and would only delay the inevitable for a few moments. Also it was only logical for him to explain why they needed to review safety measures before she did it.
He just had to force his words together in a few lines which made sense. How hard could… no, he wasn't going to jinx himself. He'd forgotten how to say one- or two-syllable words too many times.
He fed Psammites in his room and upended a box full of pillows and blankets for him to sleep in, then went to brush his teeth. Sans was sitting in the sink. Gaster stared at him in confusion.
"Do you need a stool?"
"Nah, I'm good."
The Kodama was at the next sink and appeared to be doing fine, although his chin was within a few inches of the rim. He was about Sans' height, right? ….Whatever, don't question it.
Gaster knelt down and folded his legs under the sink, then shuffled around trying to find a comfortable position. He noticed that the Kodama had stopped brushing his teeth and was staring at him sideways without turning his head.
Gaster, still attempting to fold himself around the sink, considered making accordion noises, but realized that if he started laughing in this nervous state he wouldn't be able to stop.
What if I attached an accordion to my spine so that every time I had do the limbo dance to get through a doorway it played weird music.
He masked his giggling with brisk teeth-brushing. Be serious, you fool. Serious.
Alphys was still groggily clinging to her heat rock. She answered the door after Gaster had knocked twice.
"Hello. Can I come in?"
"U-uh sure?"
He sat cross-legged on the floor.
"I have to give a speech."
"N-no you don't, not really. Just explain what's everyone's, I mean, what w-we're all doing right?"
"One would hope. There's been a change of plans."
"O-oh?"
He made more sense this time. See, he could talk in a way that made sense. Maybe the third time would—he was not going to jinx this in any way. Rehearse rehearse rehearse and make no predictions. He did not want to do this. Maybe he could make Alphys do it. Ugh, no! Horrible, stupid, cowardly idea!
Alphys screeched when he explained what had happened, and was verbally abusive of the absent Suger. It soothed Gaster a little. He felt justified.
"Thank you."
"F-for what?"
"For being the one to call him an asshole, so I don't end up doing it in the middle of the Very Professional and Not Whiny speech I'm about to make. But seriously, someone needed to do it."
"M-my pleasure."
He ended up in the elevator with Sans, JanETeM and a rabbit. As the doors started to close, Seon the dragon appeared down the hall, lifted her belly off the floor and undulated quickly through the air towards them. Gaster leaned back a bit, but her head zoomed around and behind him. Then it came in front of him again, traveling under her long body, and kept going. When the doors closed she was in a corkscrew that looped three times in front of Gaster's body, with her tufted tail resting on top. The elevator was filled with the smell of clean fur and rain.
She didn't seem uncomfortable.
When the elevator stopped she wound herself out of it in the same way with a soft whispering sound, and the rest of them followed when they could move without stepping on her.
Yoro was down by the edge of the magma lake, and Hassen was nearby, his chin on the bank. Gaster called Yoro, but he didn't notice. He appeared to be stretching his arm. As Gaster watched, he picked up a stone, stepped back into a pitcher's stance, and lobbed it out over the magma. Quickly Hassen dived, and ripples of brighter light marked his movement across the magma. The rock, which had been thrown high, began to come down, and Hassen surfaced from the magma nearby, located it, leapt into the air and caught it in his mouth. Then he did a bellyflop, landing in the magma with a loud smack. He dove, resurfaced closer to Yoro and opened his mouth proudly. A blob of magma rolled out. Yoro applauded.
Once Yoro was inside the team was complete. Twenty-two monsters all counted. They grouped into a rough circle in an open part of the main lab, still vacant and untouched.
"So the plan was I'd be showing you your workspaces and explaining what we'll start out doing," said Gaster, "But uh… something's turned up and I need to… explain a thing. That happened. First."
They were all staring at him.
His mind went blank.
Okay. (Fuck.) Just.. take a few moments, let it come back.
(Just be a jerk and make Alphys do it.)
Gaster wondered if he could use his heat magic to make himself spontaneously combust.
Gaster wondered if he could glitch out of reality if he dissociated hard enough.
Gaster wondered what the hell he was doing and why he had ever thought that this would be a good idea when he couldn't fucking talk to people on a good day. Oh right, because Alphys encouraged him. Alphys was not stupid. Alphys was looking expectantly at him. It was turning into a look of dismay and commiseration. Poor kind helpful Alphys.
Words returned.
"A few weeks ago I received an email with a very long attachment discussing the Philips Project. I skimmed the first few paragraphs, incorrectly assumed that it had nothing to do with me, forgot about it and continued with my life. Late yesterday I called Dr. Suger to check in and when I mentioned the Crawler he expressed surprise that I hadn't seen this coming." He paused to breathe and make sure that he was still making sense. "I've forwarded you all that email. As it turns out, due to the topography of Hotland and the work of the Philips Project, we're more than usually likely to have displaced and probably angry Crawlers showing up in front of the lab. Which was explained somewhere in the unnecessarily long email which I was sent completely without context. So I technically should have known, but I didn't until just now, and I'm sorry." He paused. Almost done. Thank God. What a trainwreck. He was ready to go home and hide in a box with his cats. No, he'd moved the cats out of the house. Great, he'd live in the stable. How fitting.
Lovely, now he was being a drama queen as well as bad at everything. Deep breath, keep going.
"As far as I can tell—and if any of you can understand more clearly than I the implications in that email, please, explain it to me—there's no way to know exactly when or how many may appear, but we should always be on watch. Again, this wasn't supposed to happen and I didn't know about it until now. If any of you feel unsafe you can leave on the next train. …Which will be… sometime after they retrieve the smashed one. Or, maybe you can leave on the… retrieval-train. Thing." This is the part where you stop talking and let Mary do her thing. "Thanks."
AAAAAAGH. FUCK.
He looked at Mary, who turned to face the others.
"Dr. Gaster has suggested I review safety, which in theory all of you are already familiar with. The lab is sealed and reinforced against heat, which makes it completely safe from attacks of a normally-sized Crawler. The heat should kill most of them fairly quickly, but if you see one, don't approach it, don't pass close to it. The tendrils can reach much farther than you'd think. Let one of the guards take care of it. If you are a guard, please don't attack a Crawler alone without notifying us. If you happen to touch any part of a Crawler, go directly to the bathroom and wash thoroughly, then report to the clinic for a checkup. But I cannot stress enough how important it is not to let it touch you. All it has to do is touch you."
"Thank you Dr. Mary."
There was an awkward silence. Sans raised his hand.
"Er… yes?" said Gaster.
"So, wait, he never sent you a heads-up email saying 'hey this is important to your not dying in Hotland please read it'?"
"No. I think the header on the email itself was something like 'read this' but with no specifics."
"OK wow that's just stupid. Do you think he did it on purpose?"
Gaster opened his mouth and then shut it. He settled for giving Sans a malevolent look that telegraphed his personal feelings about Suger without slinging baseless accusations. He also made a faint growling noise.
"OK wow. I'm staying just as a fuck you to whoever handles interdepartmental communications. Sorry for the language."
"I agree completely, but also, please don't make a habit of that," said Gaster, signing please ignore the hypocrisy.
"Dude, same," said Yoro. "Hey, it's my job to fight stuff—"
"Technically your job is spot; please do not give me the responsibility of sending a sad letter home to your family," said Gaster.
"—yeah, so this just means I won't be too bored."
"I'm staying," said Alphys firmly. Mary gave a shrug.
"Morality dictates that I be the last one out, in case the second-to-last does something stupid and needs to be carted out on a stretcher. Long as there's someone here, I'm here. Also, while we're here, I was thinking of starting a step aerobics class. Get you nerds up on your feet. Morning or evening, any preferences?"
"Never morning anything ever," said Sans.
"Morning!" Said Yoro.
"Wait, so, are we all volunteering to stay? I'm confused?" said Seon. "I'm not leaving."
"Thank you," said Gaster. "My point was, this wasn't a risk you were told about, and if you feel unsafe, you can leave."
"Eh everyone knew there might be Crawlers, they're everywhere," said Sans.
"But not usually in such high numbers as we might be expecting."
"U-uh, might," said Alphys. "M-maybe it won't be too bad? I-I mean, Dr. Mary is right, the lab is pretty safe. We can just… wait a while and see how it works out?"
The Kodama gave an uncomfortable nod. There was a scattered wave of affirmatives. With a wave of relief, Gaster saw that none of them looked outright panicked; some looked upset and some looked simply annoyed; Sans, Yoro and, of all people, JaNEtem looked completely unconcerned.
So he still had a crew. Well that had been more internal turmoil than was necessary. And as he looked at them he felt a strengthening hope.
A/N
Me, mentally outlining: this chapter shall be tension, drama, and finally an epic heartwarming show of support which brings the ragtag band of misfits-soon-to-be-heroes together!
Me, actually writing: Two parts silliness, some exposition and a half-part profanity. Yeah that works.
STILL WRITING HELLA SLOW AS YOU CAN SEE, BUT GETTING THINGS DONE. THIS WILL CONTINUE. IT IS BARELY BEGINNING.
I HAVE TO WRITE MORE ABOUT THE CAR. THE CARRRRR.
ALSO SOULLLSSSSSSSSS. AND PIE. AND POSSIBLY DONUTS.