Because it wasn't exactly a man.

Because that would be too simple, wouldn't it?

Because fate really likes to push the swirling, unyielding thing called life.

Because the witch was looking at Gaster.

And he was looking back at her.

Chapter 17

Surgery

The Sans that wasn't Sans pulled her into the room by her leash. Wicca tried to dig her heels into the tile, resulting in the skeleton dragging her over the threshold.

The witch felt like she was going to vomit. The one person-or rather thing-she had been trying to avoid this entire time was standing not even five feet from her. Her insides squished together as Sans continued to drag her closer.

"This is wrong, this is wrong. It isn't him, just like Sans isn't Sans, just like Papyrus isn't Papyrus..."

"Is this the fine specimen that you managed to damage, Little Red?"

It took a minute for Wicca to realize that Gaster had spoken, and even longer to realize what he said. She would have laughed right in "Little Red's" mortified face, but all she could manage was a faint smirk before she had to grip the table beside her for support. She was fading, fast. Somehow in this Underworld, being a scientist also qualified for being a doctor (There totally isn't anything sketchy about that. Nope. Not at all.) but Wicca didn't have enough time to complain. She was going to die, and she'd rather not do that now, thank you very much.

"Yes, she is." Wicca butt in before 'Little Red' could say anything, "but not without inflicting her own damage first."

The skeleton glared at Wicca and fingered a large scratch across his face where the witch's Joker once sliced through.

Gaster threw his head back and laughed, the crescent of his eye crinkling oddly. He took the girl's hand and drew her close. She held her breath as he closely examined her. A long, skeletal finger lightly traced her visible wound. His touch sent shocks of pain shooting through her body, and a familiar thrum vibrated in her hands.

(Uh oh)

The older skeleton's mouth curled back into an evil snarl. His head shot up, eyes finding the younger skeleton.

"It's about time you learned how to properly stitch a wound, you imbecile."

Gaster began to clench Wicca's hand tight as he yelled, and her fingers fractured in a jagged line. She shrieked in pain as a jolting energy swept through her cracking bones. The same thing that had happened with Sans was happening, again. Only this time, Wicca couldn't let go.

The older skeleton peered curiously at the witch as her fingers fissured, Sans and his mistake all but forgotten. He squeezed her hand tight, inquisitively, and her vision swam with dots of deep black.

"G-get OFF!" The witch screamed.

Gaster merely smiled, then crushed her dainty hand in his.

Wicca felt all the air in her lungs collapse as her bones erupted through her skin.

With an ear-splitting screech, the witch stood as tall as she could and slammed her head against the skeleton's skull. He instantly stumbled back, holding his jaw. His vacant eye sockets blazed a deep red as Wicca's bones began to reform.

Her knuckles clicked together just as a disembodied hand threw her onto the operating table. The wind was knocked out of her, and she tried to cradle her still mending hand while protecting her now reopened wound. She found that she couldn't get up. The adrenaline and pure willpower that had kept her going was completely drained. Her stitches had opened up and her blood had already soaked through her hand.

"I-I think that's enough, Big Boss?"

Sans stepped tentatively forward, getting in between the witch and older skeleton.

"You think?"

His eyes flickered.

"You can play with her after you fix her, Gaster."

Gaster stood up straight and raised a brow bow. "I am not Gaster to you, I am-"

"-Going to get dusted if you don't stitch up my pet." Sans growled.

The older skeleton narrowed his eyes.

"And what makes you think I would do that?"

"I can get you Undyne."

Gaster chuckled and turned his attention back to Wicca, who could only try to muster up an intimidating face as a defense.

"I know she's trying ta' shut you down, Big Boss. I know that what you're doin' down here…," Sans paused and flicked a surgical hemostat to the floor, "…ain't exactly what our King wants, now's it?"

The two skeletons stared one another down. With an annoyed grunt, Gaster snapped his fingers and the yellow blubbering thing from before entered the room.

"I expect to be fully compensated when I am finished." The older skeleton said and turned to examine his instruments.

The monster was hurrying about the operating room, grabbing clean surgical towels and fishing out a new sterilized hemostat. As the yellow reptilian fluttered around, she accidentally knocked a tray over, sending gauze and towel clamps scattering to the ground.

"Alphys!" The name whipped the monster, and she stumbled back as if from a physical blow. Gaster stalked closer and kicked the reptilian. Alphys went down with a sloppy thud and whimpered, not daring to fight back. Her gaze darted around the room, too afraid to look at anything for too long. Gaster turned his back to her and walked to a nearby sink.

Wicca made a sound in disgust at the sight of Gaster's treatment of his assistant. Alphys jerked her head up at the noise and narrowed her eyes a fraction. The witch shifted on the table, uncomfortable under the monster's gaze. Alphys smirked, stretching her lips in a thin, ugly leer.

The girl began to realize that this monster wasn't as helpless as she seemed. A sudden thought popped into her head: Alphys was just bidding her time. She was pretending to be helpless, she was pretending to seem weak and unthreatening. But, she worked with Gaster, she disassembled other monsters as some twisted game. She wasn't innocent, in fact, Wicca would venture to say that she was far from it.

A startling clarity started to form, and Wicca felt hesitant. In this place, in this world it seemed like everybody was out for themselves. Everybody was deceiving each other. Nobody did anything without compensation, as Little Red and Gaster had so clearly demonstrated.

So, why should she?

If she warned either one of the monsters of what she suspected, what would happen? There would be no "Oh wow, thanks Wicca, you're the best!". They would use her information, take note, and then toss her aside. Tossing out a free-be like that might even lower herself in their eyes. She had to play by their game using their rules.

At least, until she found a way out (again).

"Doctor" Gaster returned to the tableside, without gloves. Wicca eyed his naked hands suspiciously but thought better than to comment on his unsanitary surgical practices.

Alphys wheeled a strange looking machine over and forcefully attached a nozzle onto Wicca's face. Every warning system in her brain flashed and whistled. She did not want to be unconscious, especially in the presence of these three monsters…They could do anything.

She ripped the mask off her face, throwing it at the yellow reptilian.

"No gas. Local anesthetic only."

Gaster laughed while Alphys glared. The monster gave a pointed look at the older skeleton, but he returned it with a curling snicker.

"You heard the patient. Local, stat."

Alphys turned around and rooted through some cabinets without complaint. She returned with a large glass jar of sloshing liquid and a thick needle. Wicca stiffened, but refused to go back on her word; especially after the triumphant look Alphys gave her when she produced the rather gruesome syringe.

The yellow reptilian took her time filling up the plunger, enjoying Wicca's discomfort. Gaster, on the other hand, was not nearly as patient. He snapped at the monster, but before he could take the needle from her, she was already plunging it aggressively into the witch's side.

Wicca couldn't help but wince. It felt like she was being stabbed with a blade, and her already tender wound throbbed from the impact. Luckily, the local anesthesia acted semi-fast and took most of the pain away. It was a weird sensation, it felt like a liquid-coldness was dripping into her body. It made her shiver uncontrollably.

After three more injections around her abdomen (when two would have been more than sufficient. Alphys just liked to watch Wicca squirm), the "doctor" got to work.

He carefully snipped the witch's previous stitches and removed the thread. It was clean and precise, Wicca didn't feel a thing except for some slight pressure. It was the next part that wasn't so pleasant.

Gaster took a surgical instrument and clamped it onto Wicca's skin and pulled it back, allowing the skeleton to see further into her wound. She bit her lip, hard. The local was doing its job, so far-ish. She could feel a hot clammy pressure where the instrument held her skin, and she felt sick from thinking about it. She took in two quick breaths but stopped when she saw Alphys grin.

The girl narrowed her eyes. Not only did she have to make it through this surgery, but she'd have to do it without showing weakness. Because, after all, isn't that what these monsters thrived off of down here? She wouldn't give Alphys the satisfaction.

Or at least, that was the plan.

The "doctor" explored the gaping hole with a scalpel, and the blade came away wet and sticky with blood. The witch dug the bed of her nails into her palm and put her head back. It might be a better idea to not watch her own surgery.

She could feel him poking around, she could hear her insides squelch, she could smell the heavy copper. She actively tried to keep her bile in her stomach.

The older skeleton hummed as he worked, seeming to take enjoyment whenever she tensed reflexively. He paused abruptly and made a little gleeful sound.

"What?" The witch asked, failing at hiding her anxiety.

"It appears-" Gaster squeezed something and a spurt of red arced out and landed on his pale hand. Wicca couldn't contain her shudder. "-that you seem to be suffering from some internal damage."

Any normal person would have said this with sympathy, not unrequited joy. Not Gaster. No, this skeleton was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement.

"What does that mean?"

"It means-" He looked up and stared her straight in the eye, "I get to have some fun."