OUT WE GO INTO CHAPTER 15
Gaster's set-up was below the most utilized floor of the lab. He took Frisk into the elevator and urged it farther down. It was oddly nostalgic to stand there, looking up at him with that low humming sound and the rumble underfoot.
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She recognized where he was taking her as connected to the room where Alphys had first shot her with a beam of determination for her soul to absorb. Gaster had commandeered a small room shooting off of that area before the several locked doors, and had pulled in monitors and a computer from elsewhere. There was some sort of prickly metal pole bound together with tape in the corner, jabbing up into the ceiling, and some stacks of bulky drives and terminals with coloured lights blinking as if trying to communicate some mysterious message.
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"Um. What is all this?" Frisk asked.
"It's mostly an analysis room," he said as he hurried to the computer. "It's a wee bit scrappy, but it'll do. I can pull data from a receiver up the CORE tower to track… Well… Almost anything."
"You just set that up?" the kid asked, eyes wide.
"I had one before," he said. "Everything's been all shifted around but… They're not exactly hard to make if you know how."
"Okay," Frisk said. "Oh. Did you… Uh. Find anything out about Flora?"
"Funny you should say," he said. He pulled out his phone and offered it to her. "You know. I was thinking of sending out a read on the signal that… Oh! Take a look." He tapped on an app on the screen with the symbol of a white heart and the letters SOULSCN on it. "Alphys is so clever, I can't even tell you." He grinned proudly.
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The app opened up to a dark screen with a large panel and a circle taking up most of it, and a list with different coloured hearts and names beside them. A lemon yellow one was labeled "ALPHYS-TUTORIAL", a black one with a white outline said, "WDG" and the last one was a pale, leaf green, labeled, "FLORA". He tapped that one and it came up with the wafting, magic image of a heart of that same colour, and a waveform of a hum below it. The soul itself, though, occasionally had a strange spike, where the colour went darker. Gaster tapped on it.
"See that? That is absolutely unusual," he said. "And if you look at mine…" He switched the panels to WDG to show that, in fact, his soul's entire image was made of those spikes. "Bears a certain resemblance, doesn't it?"
"So if you tracked that—"
"I could find anyone else who was effected." He nodded. His brow furrowed and he gently held her face in his hand. He brushed his thumb under her eye. "What is…? Are you injured?"
"Hm? Oh. No." She smiled bashfully. "Just gets like that when I'm real tired."
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Gaster frowned. He straightened up and went back to the computer. As he navigated the interface, his magic projections of hands appeared to help him operate some of the other gadgets on towers of stacked computer terminals. "So… This thing with your brother. It's… quite serious, isn't it? Can you explain in a little more detail?"
"Um. Well, I mean… He said he was seeing people. As if they were there. But it was himself and Papyrus, mostly, but not looking the same. And there was a Sans from… From a timeline we dreamt together. And that one, somehow, Sans was sure he saw him, too. He— the other one, I mean— tried to touch him."
"Hm… Maybe… I could run some tests, rebalance him if I'm able to perhaps extract—"
"It's not just that, Az and I saw it, too," she said. "That's why I think it's out there."
Gaster turned and stared. Looked liked he'd just broken a glass. "You… saw it."
"Not as bad," she said quickly. "It was like… patches. Like these rectangles of the wrong colour or the wrong time of day or… something. It's hard to explain."
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Fear flashed through the skeleton's eyes. He turned away, grimacing, and he paced the room quickly, back and forth a few times. He whirled on Frisk, bent down, and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I… I'm so sorry. So… it's not just in his head."
"Yeah. Pretty sure. Um." She looked up at him with big eyes. "I kinda hate to ask, but you know it better than anyone. Maybe… Could you help me see if anything's wrong out there?"
"Of course I can," he said quickly. He clenched his fingers gently into the back of her hair. "I… I knew it was getting bad, but I didn't think…"
"Yeah. It, um… It got worse real quick," she said quietly.
He sighed and bumped his brow on hers before swiftly straightening up. He looked back at the monitor and flinched. "I think I may have an idea."
He pulled up a moving energy diagram on the screen that Frisk didn't understand. She edged closer and tried to read it. Something to do with CORE fluctuations and a map. After a second, she realized some dots on it matched up with where the tears in time were. She shot her father a curious look. He drummed his fingertips against the computer, and the screens began to shift far too quickly for the kid to follow. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, and one of her father's magical hands reassuringly patted her on the head. Curiously, she grabbed the hand and held it in both hers, and looked it over. It was almost exactly like the real one, hole and all, except the colour and faint transparency. It grasped to her gently and she snuck closer to Gaster.
"Um. So. Do you know what to do?" she asked.
He turned to her, about to speak, and froze instead. He stared at her and then couldn't help but smile. He rubbed his face quickly; the false hands vanished into dark glitter in the air. "I think you're right. We need to check the space between. Just… give me a moment."
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Gaster used his phone to pull out a dark blue tome and opened it on the desk. He flipped through the pages quickly, past the small amount he'd already read. He was looking for shielding; perhaps a way to protect Frisk, but he found nothing of the sort. No, the spells here were stronger and louder than what might have been a relatively simplistic spell of protection. Long-range, bombastic; experimental. Dangerous. Spells of destruction, storms; alchemy. Of lucid dreams and prophecy. Built on will and determination, only suitable, for the most part, for a boss monster or a choir of monsters.
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As Frisk leaned in to look at what she couldn't read, Gaster frowned thoughtfully at the pages.
"What's that?" she asked.
"A spellbook, essentially. I'll explain everything a little later," he said. "I was just hoping…" He shook his head. "Well, it's good for many things, but not exactly what I would like." He stashed it away again. "Alright. Come."
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In the main body of the lab, Frisk latched to the light to hold the world steady. Gaster held her gently and reached his hand through the star, too. His eyes went dark and his bones took an ashy tint.
"You okay?" Frisk asked.
"…Fine." He didn't sound fine.
"You can wait here. Just tell me what I'm looking for," she said.
"I can't, I need to…" Gaster smiled and then put a hand over hers. His fingertips grazed the light, his bones shimmering with blue, and they connected with a sharp crackle of energy. "Close your eyes."
Frisk did as he asked. A chill hit her like she plunged into water.
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When she looked again, darkness dotted with stars stretched out endlessly before her. She took a deep breath. She was alone. "Dad?" she asked. Her voice echoed to nowhere.
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Frisk frowned. She spun around. Nothing. She flipped upside down. Still nothing. She put her hand against her soul and let it glow softly. Her song resonated in the back of her head— inaudible sound that pulsed from her, somehow. She thought she heard something and flipped back up. She saw a shape cut in front of a light. She willed herself towards it.
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It was Gaster. He was drifting, unconscious, goo as dark as the void around them pouring from his eyes. Frisk yelped and grabbed onto his shoulders.
"Dad?!" she demanded. Her heart sunk. She'd messed up already. "Oh, man, c'mon, dad, don't do this." She cupped his face and grimaced, leaning forward and bumping her brow on his. She focussed her energy on his, though it was cold and dark and deep. "Come on. Come on come on come on…"
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He gasped. She pulled back quickly, but held him tight as his eyes shot open and he looked around frantically. His irises beamed with gold and blue.
"Hey. Hey, relax, you okay?" she asked.
He fixated on her and his expression softened. The light in his sockets dimmed. With shaking arms, he hugged her gently. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't, it's okay. Was it too much?" she said. "Should we leave?"
"I… I'm fine," he croaked. "Let's get started."
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He managed to straighten up a little and he wiped the blackened tears off his face. "It's alright," he said. "We've been here before. Remember?"
"Is this where I found you?" she asked.
"It is. You pass through, for just a moment, every time you move yourself." He smiled at her fondly. "This is the place where you are the most powerful."
"It is?" she asked, frowning. "But… You came here first. You cut it, didn't you?"
"I can change little aspects. But to truly manipulate it. To do what we need. Only you can," he said. "It's in your nature."
"Oh. R… Right," she said. "Um. But. This all, um, kinda looks the same to me. I mean, it's super pretty but I… I don't know what to do. This place is huge."
"Infinite," he said with a nod. He drew his hand through the dark and it rippled. "Think of this place like… Water. Or. Maybe more accurately. Blood. The blood of time. Even if that sounds quite melodramatic."
Frisk snickered. "Gross."
"It is an accurate analogy," Gaster said. "It was an old human method of medicine to lance swollen wounds. Gross, as you said. But, potentially effective. To relieve the pressure. That is what I did."
"Okay," she said. "Because… the CORE did something to it? How'd you manage that?"
"That is far too long a story," he said apologetically. "Now, the problem we've seen is something external to your timeline is seeping in, right? So, if we continue along that train of thought…"
"…There's a… A cut? Or something?" Frisk said. "And it's leaking? But in."
"I would expect so," he said.
"So, um, you know what we need to do, right?" she asked.
He dipped his head in a nod. "You will need to seal the tear."
"And… Um. Okay. How do we find it? Can your machine do that? Do you know what it looks like?"
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Gaster chuckled and smiled at her fondly. "You're asking all the right questions, Frisky. Though, I'm afraid I don't have many answers in this case. Numbers and data can only take us so far when we haven't observed what we're looking for ourselves. You'll have to rely on your soul and your senses."
"You… sound like you're not coming," she said.
"I can't," he said apologetically.
Frisk grimaced, but she nodded. She held his hand. "I understand. You're still sick, huh? Yeah, you should stay back, then."
"It's not just that," he admitted. "I… This will sound strange. But I don't trust myself close to any significant tears that reach beyond your universe. You will need to be the one to protect everything. From… From me."
"From…? Wait, what?" she asked.
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His smile was forlorn. He put a hand on her head gently. "In my time outside of myself, I saw… other timelines. Other versions," he said. "In countless universes, there are countless other versions of myself, with countless other CORES, that will inevitably rupture their own universes. One of those rupturing might have caused what we're seeing now."
"Oh. Jeez," Frisk breathed. "But… won't they need help? Like you did?"
"We can't help them," he said. "Not without compromising our world. While I was here, I… I saw into some of their minds. I believe you might have had a similar experience, in your dreams. With other anomalies. Right?"
She looked worried, but she nodded anyway.
"Some of them are like me. Most of them are different, some in ways that are… dangerous. Cruel, even," he said. "And almost all will shatter like I did. And some may break things, unintentionally or not. Maybe some already have. I… cannot risk us like that. And I don't trust myself."
"What d'you mean?" she said.
"I've always been drawn to this place. I know many of the others must be like this, too. I can't guarantee I won't get curious. That I won't try pulling on it again." He flinched. "I am afraid that the way I… The way I returned may have also contributed to this. The way I dragged myself away from timelessness attached to your soul."
"…But I wanted you to come back, remember?" she said.
"And you would have brought me. You did. But I clung. I fear I ripped something. And despite how sick it makes me, I keep wanting to pass through this place again. It can't be helping. I can't be allowed to pick at the wounds in here. Whoever else is out there can't, either. We must… You must cauterize it."
"C… Cauterize," she repeated.
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He looked so worried; so sad. She gulped and she reached up to hold his hand.
"So… So what do I do?"
"Reach out. Use your magic to close it off," he said. "I know it sounds daunting. But I think that you are so connected to this that, once you link in, you'll understand right away."
Frisk sighed and laughed at herself. "So much for not doin' anything crazy," she said.
"We can try a different—"
"No. No. I can't let Sans sit through just seeing other times all the time. He's gonna go nuts," she said. "I'll go. I'll try."
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The kid took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She put a hand to her soul spot and lit it up bright. Her father put his big, broken hand over hers.
"What you're looking for," he said gently, "is an ebb and flow of time. Like water, moving between different levels of pressure. Do you understand?"
"Think so," she said. When she pulsed, she felt an immediate connection all around her, like she was the centre of a spider's web. She could hear voices, some she knew and some she didn't. She could hear people crying, people laughing. Overwhelming noises, voices; hums. Her ears pricked to one she knew better than all others. Sans's voice, deep in the dark, out there somewhere she couldn't see.
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She reached out, heat swelling in her fingertips. Her energy tried to tap in, and she felt little tugs in all directions; short snippets of song. Her brother's. Of course. They would always be connected through what had happened to them, wouldn't they? Didn't matter what version.
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Her heart felt heavy and she blew out a shaky, cold breath in the darkness. When she opened her eyes, she was alone. She saw bleak space divided by a scar of white so bright it hurt her eyes. She thought about going closer and her body did it on its own, shifting, effortless. Maybe this was the rip? At least, a place where any sort of separation had stretched and thinned. She wondered what would happen if she stuck a hand through, then thought better of it.
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She drifted towards that divider. Circling it, it had no form at all from the reverse. She moved back to the front of it and squinted into the light. She laid her hand against it and felt someone reaching out for her. She gulped. Someone out there needed her help. She closed her eyes again and focussed. There was a song. That other one. The one Sans's soul made when the world might end. It hurt her heart. Was he calling out with it?
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The longer she stayed, the more she could feel his energy. But she felt something weird; unexpected. Determination. A lot of it. She grimaced and focussed all she had and put her fingertips against the grey and gently pushed until it got darker and darker, slowly quieting the noise. At the edge of pitch black, Frisk felt something familiar jab into her.
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In that deepened grey, blue flickered. A very specific, familiar blue. She gently touched her palm against it.
"Sans, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I… I don't know how to…"
The blue formed a shape. A palm. Slowly, fingers made of bone and dyed that same shade of blue pushed through cautiously from out there. Her stomach dropped into sheer cold. But that had to be him. From somewhere else. Why was he there now? Because she was?
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Cautiously, she touched the boney fingers. She felt a tremor of surprise through them and she laughed in disbelief. It wasn't a vision— there was really someone over there. She grasped him tight and traced "hi" in his palm. Though the blue hand shook, it held hers. The thumb seemed to test her skin and the shape of her palm curiously. Then, the other side of the world got blue again. And there was a knock. Like a fist tapping on frosted glass. Frisk burst out laughing. She knocked in return.
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"Can you hear me?" That was Sans's voice. It came in through the back of her mind, though, not her ears.
Frisk's heart thunked hard in her chest. "Yeah. Can you hear me?"
"Oh. God. Okay. You're… real, then?"
"Yeah," she said.
"Uh… Who are you, kid?" he asked.
"I'm Frisk. Um. Sounds kinda weird, but I'm like the, um, anchor, anomaly thing in charge of time stuff of this side? Like, this universe thing over here." She grinned embarrassedly. "Oof, that comes out real dumb sometimes."
"Pffft. No. No, that's fine," he said. "Actually. Just who I'm lookin' for."
"Oh?" She tilted her head. "…You do need help, huh?"
"I don't. I mean. I do. But not me. Does that make sense?"
"More than you'd think," she said. "So… So what's the problem?"
"Real me's stuck in a loop. Needs a break. Really, really bad," he said. "It's… Well. If you could do anything… To be honest, I got no clue how long I been out here and this is the first gap I've ever seen with someone on the other side. Can you come through?"
Frisk froze. She gulped. She looked at the space around her. "Can I…?" She took a deep breath. "Okay."
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She let the blue hand pull her through to the other side. A strange, rippling sensation passed over the kid's body. It was like moving through a bubble. She was brought face to face with her brother's blue-tinted twin— a perfect replica except a faint scratch in the bone on his brow. Frisk stared at him, stunned, for a moment. He looked back at her with considerably more shock, his dark eyes seeming huge in his skull.
"You're human," he said.
"I'm Frisk," she joked.
He cracked a smile. "Thanks for comin'. What were you doin' all the way out here? I mean, you're a tiny kid. Uh…" He smiled sideways. "Unless you're older than you look."
"I'm eleven," she volunteered.
Sans laughed and grinned. "Well. Technicality, I guess."
"What?! C'mon, how old do I look?" she asked.
"I dunno. Half that?" He patted her shoulder. "Still. Big place. Small kid. But, uh, so you're… the one in charge of the timeline stuff?"
"Yeah," she said quickly. "I do time travel stuff and I can't die. S'kinda my thing. My brother sorta thinks I'm a time god? It's sorta weird to say, and sorry if it sounds kinda full of myself, but it's the quickest way to explain."
"Right. Okay. Fair enough." He tilted his head. "So, uh, whatcha doin' out here?"
"Something's all messed up with my brother," she said. "We see time stuff normally but we don't super control most of it, and then it started to happen in a really bad way, so I thought if I'd come out here to fix… something? It might help him. I thought maybe it was this rip thingy. That's where all my magic stuff took me, anyway."
"Oh. Alright. Makes sense," he said. He tapped his teeth thoughtfully. "Actually. This might help you, too."
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"Oh?" Frisk tilted her head. "You know something?"
"Kinda," he said. "Buncha things can cause these rips. But I think a big push from someone like you could close it as long as what's makin' it ain't holdin' it open. But, see what's been wearin' it thin on this end is, uh… Me."
"Okay," Frisk said.
"See. It's complicated," he said apologetically. "I'm… like a fragment. A bit stuck through a save. Kinda to, uh, try to hold sanity. If that makes sense. The real me is just stuck in this real strong loop. Has been for a while. But you… If you're really are what you say, then, maybe you got a chance of breakin' it. I mean…" He looked bashful all of a sudden. "S'that too much? To ask a favour from a time god? I'm not sure what I could give ya, but I'll do my best. 'Cause, seriously, I'm sorta runnin' low on options here."
"Whoa, whoa whoa, you don't gotta give me anything," Frisk said quickly. She held out her hand. "Just, um…? Bring me to him. You. You know."
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The skeleton's face broke into an even wider grin. His eyes lit up. "Thanks, kid. 'Preciate it." His soul spot began to glow and so, too, did the palm of his hand. "Hope you won't regret it."
"Nah." She winked. "Helping Sanses is what I do." She reached into that blue light and felt her stomach drop. The black around her plunged and blurred like mixing paint before her eyes until it was a radiant spectrum. Then, the world was solid.
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She saw Sans, soul shining blue in that golden hallway. He had the same scratch on his forehead that the blue skeleton out in the void had. She almost rolled her eyes. Of course he was here.
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His face was steady, but before she could even open her mouth, her soul turned blue, too, and he threw her to the ground. With a squeak, she scrambled up to a wave of bones rushing her. Heart pounding, she ducked and weaved and jumped, and braced for what was next. Massive, draconic skulls burst from nothing and loomed above her.
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Reflex and awful memories guided her and she sprung out of the way as beams of energy accompanied by a deep, magical thrum shot out, driving her back and forth and boxing her in. She didn't take a hit.
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His expression didn't waver, but the feeling in the air did. It crackled, and in an instant, his song burst to life. Not the normal, relaxed notes, though. The bombastic one, the one that meant he was filled with determination; the one that his soul shouted when the world was dying. Frisk gulped.
"S-Sans, hang on a second!"
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He didn't. He held her soul, pinned her with gravity, and his attacks came relentlessly. Frisk knew them. Jumped and dodged; readjusted herself when he threw her into walls. She hated it, and she was already wearing out a little. He wasn't talking, either. No sass, no quips, no moralizing. He just seemed exhausted. She felt awful for him. All she wanted to do was hug him, tell him everything would be okay; let him know that, for now at least, he was safe.
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Lost in thought for a moment, Frisk tumbled in the blue magic. She yelped and a bone slammed into her and sent her rolling across the floor. It didn't hurt much at all, but it knocked the wind from her. She pushed herself up to her knees to take a breath, only to be toppled over again. She grunted and rolled onto her back and sat up, rubbing her head. She caught a glimpse of Sans. He looked thoroughly disturbed, but his attack had stalled. She waved awkwardly. She saw him tense, and her hand fell.
"Oh, uh. Right. Sorry," she said bashfully.
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In a blink, he was in front of her, and he squatted down, tilting his head and giving her a quizzical frown. "Is this some kinda joke?" he asked. "Cause I ain't laughin'."
"Oh jeez, you must be really tired, huh?" Frisk said. "You okay? You wanna sit?"
He looked baffled. He hesitated for a moment, but then took her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her closer. "What the hell are you…?" His words stalled. He seemed taken aback by her worried look. His brow furrowed. "Wait…" He put a hand on his head. "Oh. My god. You're… You're not her, are you?"
"Her? Chara? No," she said.
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Sans stared for a few seconds before he dropped down onto his tailbone, put a hand on his brow and began to laugh. His song faded to nothing, leaving the hall oddly still and silent except for his exhausted chuckling. "Ah, jeez, kid," he said. "Heh. Sorry. Seems like there's been a bit of a mixup. Didn't dunk you too bad, did I?"
"No, don't worry," she assured him.
"You know who I am," he said, raising his brows.
"Yeah, of course," she said, and she smiled a little. "Sans. Captain lazy bones. Possibly the master fartmaster. Depending on the time, I guess."
"Heh. Alright," he said. "Sure you're fine?"
"Yup, no worries," she said. "Sorry to scare you."
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He raised a brow and then rubbed his tired eyes. "So. I don't get it. Your LV is nil. How'd you know my moves so well?"
"Long story," Frisk said. "Part of it is we— um, the Sans I know, he went through some stuff just like this. And we have the same dreams. I used to have to sit in the head of another anomaly kid without being able to control it. So…"
"Well shit," he said with a tired laugh. "That sucks."
"It's a little better now," she said. "Sorry."
He shook his head.
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They sat in silence for a little while. He looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. Instead, he turned to her.
"Welp. Better run off back to your own timeline, huh?" he said. "This one's crap."
"How long have you been here?" she asked worriedly. "You look so tired."
"Heh. What else is new?" he said. "I dunno, actually. Feels like forever."
"Oh… I'm so sorry," Frisk said.
He shrugged. "How'd you get here, anyway? You look a bit like that other one. Bit different, too, though. So I guess you gotta be one of these weird time kids."
"Right. I'm Frisk. Where I'm from, I'm the anchor," she said. "If that, um, means anything to you."
"Oh. So you're a good one." He looked a little surprised. "Huh. Who'da guessed. So. It finishes. At some point. That's good to know. Whatcha doin' here?"
"I'm, um… Well, I was looking for a way to close my timeline. See, my Sans, from my time? He's seeing other times while he's awake."
"Welp. That sucks," he said.
"I know, right? So. I mean. We both have the time dreams, but it just got super bad super quick. And I'm the only one who could maybe help, so I went out and I… I was trying to close it. I think? It's all, like, really abstract imagery stuff?"
"Tell me about it," he laughed.
She smiled bashfully. She tapped her fingertips together. "But then I heard you. I mean, your song. Can't really say no to it. And I just… I dunno. A fragment guy of you was out in the time void and he asked me to come see you. He thought I could help."
"Pfft. Alright. Guess I've heard weirder." He stretched. "Guess you know a version of me pretty well, then, huh? If you've seen the dreams."
She nodded again. He looked thoughtful.
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"What are you to me?" he asked. "Or. Us? Him? Other me. We pals, at least?"
"We're family," she said.
"Oh. Huh. Didn't expect that," he said. "That's actually pretty nice. Bet that made him real happy."
"Yeah, made me really happy, too," she said with a smile.
"You, uh… still have Papyrus where you're from, huh?" he said. "Keep him safe, okay?"
"For sure," she said gently. "H-He'll come back, you know. At a reset."
"I know," he said with a smile. "Still hate it."
"Me too," she said.
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He sighed and rubbed the back of his skull. "So, you got any idea what you're doin' here?"
"I dunno, sounded like you needed help," she said.
"Kiddo, we all need help," he said with a laugh.
She looked him up and down and then sighed and gave him a hug. He froze.
"You're so brave, dude," she said. "I know you're just, like, thinking you're only doing what you have to. And maybe that's true? I dunno, but… whatever happens out there, you're gonna do great."
"Heh, I dunno, kid," he said quietly. "Can't even explain the crap I've seen."
"Don't need to," she assured him. "I believe in you. Even if it gets as bad as it can possibly get, just hang in there. I promise you'll make it."
"…Even if the world ends?" he said.
"Even if the world ends," she said. "Just keep going. Chara can only push so far. And one day, she'll find some kid she can't push. Even if it's not me, or… or it's some other version, however that works, you'll find an anchor. One who loves you. There's always one. Has to be."
"Kid…" He sighed. "Dunno. Lookin' kinda bleak to me."
"I know," she said. "But you're determined, too, huh?"
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He was quiet for a few seconds. He slumped a little. He wrapped her in his arms and their energy linked. He felt old. Much older than he should. Exhausted. But, together, they were warm, and steady. Together, they shone purple.
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Sans pulled back and looked at his hands. That purple energy coursed between his bones; dyed the blue in his soul, too. "Huh. That's new." He started to laugh and rubbed his face. He looked bone-tired but, somehow, a little relieved. "I'm not gonna remember a second of this, am I?"
"No clue," Frisk said. "But, the smartest guy I know told me that, in all this time stuff, feelings stick, and… well, you're kinda purple right now, maybe that'll stick, too."
"Heh. Fair enough." He ruffled her hair. "Dunno why, but I think something changed. Feels kinda okay. How about you?"
She nodded. He grinned.
"Thanks, kiddo. Good luck out there."
"You too," she said.
"Whew. I need a nap."
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He slowly got up and turned to walk away. Frisk grinned.
"Bone voyage!" she called.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Smacked himself in the forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?" he muttered, and he turned to shoot her a smile. "I'm totally stealin' that one."
"Do it!" she said.
He stuck his thumb up. He looked back at her inquisitively. "You okay on your own here?"
"If I'm not, I'll find you," she said.
"Alright." He vanished, but then reappeared in a heartbeat. "Hey. Sorry. Can I ask a favour?"
"Yeah," she said.
"Can you reset for me?"
.
Frisk's heart thumped heavily. She cupped a hand over her soul and, though cold sweat beaded at her brow and nerves dumped nausea through her, she frowned quizzically. "C-Can I even? This place isn't mine," she said quietly.
"True, but you booted the other one," he said. "Which… Oh. Hey." He started to grin. "Think that means you shot that psychopath out into god knows where. That's hilarious. Anyway, I can't pull it back. If you're as strong as you say, shouldn't be a problem, right?"
"But I… I don't know if I…"
"See, thing is," he said, carefully pulling something red out of the front of his t-shirt and holding it tenderly in his hands, "I, uh, would really rather not stay here with that flower at the end of the world, y'know?"
.
The kid gulped heavily. She'd do it for them, wouldn't she? It made her sick, but she got to her feet. "If you're the one asking me," she said, "of course I'll do it."
"What? Really? Huh. Thought I'd have to be more convincin' than that," he said.
She shook her head. "I-If… If this place is mine, even if it's only for a few minutes, I c-can't leave it like this."
.
Sans grinned. He dipped his head and clapped her on the shoulder. "That's all I needed to hear, kiddo. Thanks a million."
The world shimmered and leaked away like sand drawn through an hourglass. She tumbled into blackness and her body went numb. She couldn't see a thing.
.
A hum buzzed through her soul. Her brother's. A different stage, but the same tune. A cold, gentle, boney hand touched on her soul. She could feel his other arm across her shoulders as he supported her body.
"Aw, kiddo. Hang in there, alright? You did good," he said quietly. "Sorry to drag you all the way out here."
"D… Did I do it…?" she asked weakly.
"Sure did," he said. "Exactly what we needed."
The centre of her gaze filled in dimly with his face, grey and foggy. She blinked. His eyes lit up and he grinned fondly.
"Hey there, sweetheart. Just gimme a sec," he said.
"…Sweetheart?" She rubbed her head and snorted out a soft laugh. "Which Sans are you?"
"A helpful one. Hopefully." He grinned sideways. "Sorry for the little detour. Doin' alright? Need anything?"
"Uh… Well, I mean, I—"
"I already know why you came here." He grinned. "You're real brave, y'know?"
"…Was it you? Calling me?" she asked.
"Yup."
"Are you…? I mean. This is weird, but, are you my brother?" She frowned. "Am I just super hallucinating right now?"
.
The grey Sans laughed. He rubbed her head gently. "It's complicated. Don't sweat it. And, uh, close your eyes? This is gonna get bright."
She did as he asked. There was a flash of red that shone through her eyelids. "Oof."
"Told ya," he said. "Now, let's get you right back on track. Keep 'em closed."
She felt the hard pads of his thumbs resting gently on each of her lids. She was a little confused, because he still held her shoulders. Did this Sans have a bunch of arms? "Um, what're you—?"
Blue and amber light flashed and then shifted to red. She squeaked with surprise and recoiled slightly. He laughed.
"You can look now."
.
She blinked, but her vision was filled with spots. It wasn't unlike what had happened when time seemed to be leaking. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. "What the heck was that?"
"Okay. So. Might be a bit weird. But it'll be good. Soon. Promise," he assured her.
"But, like, you'll…? He'll be okay?" she asked.
"More than that. Hey. Think of all this kinda like a quilt, yeah? Lotta little weird pieces, but it should make sense and come together eventually. Trust me, alright?" He grinned. "You did real good."
"Um. Thanks," she said bashfully. "I'm glad I could help."
"I knew you'd say that." He ruffled her hair gently. "Sendin' you back. Y'ever need directions, come find me. Have a good one, huh?"
"Wait, but—"
"Trust me."
.
When Frisk blinked her eyes again, everything was black. Her head spun and her stomach dropped. She felt herself slip away, and a calm came over her. She was ready for a nap. Something clunked. Something else clicked. A red thread stitching a wound. Imagery she couldn't parse.
.
She could hear music. Her own. It was all around her. Soft and reassuring. Why was the universe humming her song?
xXxXx
The darkness was singing. Absolutely radiating with magic. An orchestra. But in this swell, Gaster couldn't find his daughter. Her soul had slipped away from him, and horror set in.
.
Shouting was no use. He'd called and called, but the sound went nowhere. He could have simply fallen to dust in his dread.
.
He reached out his hands and tried to feel through everything, calling out to her soul with his magic. No matter how strong his was, it was just a drop in a galaxy here. He pleaded. She wasn't meant as some sacrificial lock. He had to pull her back.
.
Something pinged in the back of his skull. Little tingles of boney fingers crept at the edges of his mind, poking for a crack. He was almost sick. His hand glowed with his black, sparking energy and he held it out and closed his eyes, focussing as hard as he could on that feeling.
"Get out, get out, get out," he grunted.
Everything inside him turned to ice. A low, dark sound thrummed inside his head and rattled through his bones, getting deeper and deeper until it could only be sensed as an uncomfortable, incessant sense of dread. He felt like it was going to shake him apart.
.
The air hit him with a shock and the world cracked like thunder into a vacuum. He whirled; squinted through the dark. Was that red that glinted back at him? Had to be. He headed for it as quickly as he was able; shifted himself towards the light until it seemed like a looming, flaming rip straight through the blackness into the sun.
.
It was blinding, the colour so vibrant at its centre that it washed out white. There, though, he was sure he saw something. Some shape amongst the radiance. He took a breath. That had to be her. He reached out and it was like a torrent of wind in stagnant air. He braced himself and waded in, but it blinded him utterly. He tried to shield his face, but there was nothing he could do. He stretched his arm out and pleaded with the universe to give him his daughter back. The song in his head began to swell, but he felt himself start to drop. He gasped and grimaced. Realized he wasn't asking the right question.
.
"Frisk. Please," he said. "Come back. I was wrong, I'm sorry. Please. Come back." The moment the words had left him, he felt something soft brush his fingertips. He couldn't see, but he could feel a small form lost in this light. He grabbed her to him.
.
It was like snuffing the flame from a candle. The world around them dimmed. He saw spots and red, and the form of his little girl, but her eyes were open and blazing like fire and she was limp. He could have cried.
"Frisk. F-Frisk. A leanbh. Can you hear me, sweetheart?" he asked. "Oh god. I should never have brought you here. I'm so sorry."
.
"D… Dad?" Her voice was soft and her fingers were weak when they clung to his shirt.
Tears blurred his vision and he clutched her tight against his ribcage. "I have you. Are you okay? Your eyes, you're…" He realized too late that she was barely conscious, and he cradled her gently with his hand against the back of her head. "Are you there? Can you see me?"
The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. She seemed very calm. "I see… everything," she whispered. Her eyelids drooped and she wilted in his grip, but still the red blazed from her eye sockets.
He felt a pang in his soul. He knew what this was. He'd thought it impossible. "Don't worry, sweetie, I-I'm getting you out of here," he muttered.
.
He raked his fingers through the void, down and then sideways. He had no idea where they'd be, but it didn't matter. He threw himself through the tear and collapsed sideways onto cool, dark stone.
.
Heaving himself up on his knees, he could see he'd ripped a hole into a tiny cave in Waterfall where all there was otherwise was a bench. He looked down at Frisk, finally able to see properly. She, however, was still oozing magic.
.
Gaster couldn't even recall using the light he'd made to jump back to the lab, but the next thing he knew, he was stumbling across smooth tile on the lower floor. He ran as fast as he could, babbling apologies to the unconscious girl.
.
He knew what he needed. The rooms were different, though. He realized, with horror, that he had no idea where his things were anymore. He pawed for his phone. Couldn't find it. Frisk had one. He took it and was relieved to find Alphys's number in it. He called. Every second he waited felt like an hour. He begged for it to work. The click and the ambience of the receiver made him melt.
"Hey, h-hi!" Alphys answered. "Good t-timing, I was just going to t-test call."
"My arcane-harmonic stabilizer, where is it?" Gaster said.
"Wha…? G-Gaster, what are you…?" she stammered. "Uhh… I h-had to move it, I… It's d-downstairs in the r-room just past the, um, d-determination injector chambers. Why?"
"Thank you," he said. He hung up to her shrill sounds of protest.
.
He sprinted for the elevator and slammed his fist into the wall, his magic forcing it to drop like a rock. It slammed to a stop just before his destination and he bounded out.
.
Doors that were otherwise locked shot open for him, but everything was a blur until he stumbled into the room connected to the opposite side of the determination chamber. His eyes scanned it in panic, and for the first time since he'd started running, he took a deep breath. It was exactly as he'd left it.
.
Control panels unused for a decade lit up when he shocked them with magic and he rushed to what was essentially a repurposed dentist's chair. He carefully placed Frisk into it, though it broke his heart to let her go. She looked so tiny.
"Oh god. God, sweetie, I'm so sorry," he muttered, holding her face gently. "What was I thinking? What have I done to you?" He stretched out his arm and magical facsimiles of his hands hovered over the controls and rushed to boot up the stabilizer. His left eye lit with blue and showed him the screens as he hurriedly positioned the kid right in the chair.
.
The stabilizer was still on an arm that hung from the ceiling. He grabbed it and yanked it down to rest in front of her. It was equipped with three adjustable magic prongs that looked a bit like monstrous drills. He had never gotten around to refurbishing it to look less like a science-fiction torture device, as Sans had joked about when he was younger.
.
Soul buzzing, heartbroken; dizzy with worry, Gaster had to slow himself as he aligned one spike each with Frisk's eyes and the spot where her soul glowed from her chest. Couldn't make a mistake. He was already at the edge of never forgiving himself— that would certainly topple him. She was just barely too small for the safety restraints to keep her aligned. There was no way he was willing to let her go. He'd just have to hold her.
.
Despite their disuse, Alphys hadn't altered his machines at all. It was up and running quickly. He set the dials and the tips of the prongs began to glitter with white. He turned it up, higher than he'd used on himself or on Sans when this had happened. He triple-checked the alignment and then, taking a deep breath, grasped his little girl tight and turned the machine on. The magic thrummed deep and loud, pounding into his skull as blinding lasers struck right into Frisk's eyes and chest. He winced. Bowed his head and closed his eyes, and counted down from thirty. Time slowed to a dragging, uncomfortable crawl. The second it was up, he switched it off and shut the whole thing down.
.
Frisk didn't move, but the red flaring from her eyes was gone. She looked like she was asleep.
"Frisk? Sweetheart?" he asked quietly. He didn't really expect a reply, but even so, his heart sank when he didn't get one.
.
Gritting his teeth, he lifted her up and bent his head to listen to her. Despite everything, her hum was strong, and he could hear her heartbeat going steady. He touched her soul spot with gentle fingers, testing her energy. It wasn't arcing or sputtering, swelling or leaking. It felt like what he expected. He let out a long, deep breath.
"Oh, Frisky, a stór, I'm so sorry," he muttered. "Gaster, you absolute idiot. How could you? To your own daughter… Idiot. Idiot."
.
Cradling her close, Gaster rushed back up a level. He had to remind himself he'd seen this before. It was only the precursor that had been different. He preened her hair gently.
.
There were still a few beds in the large, main room on the uppermost basement floors. He ran to them and, using magic hands, pulled back the blankets on the one closest to the door so that he could carefully lay the kid down on the soft mattress. The false hands vanished in sparks and he knelt down, resting his broken palm against her forehead. Her body temperature was just slightly elevated, according to his memory of what a human was supposed to feel like. He gently cupped her face, letting a weak glimmer of healing energy to pass into her. It fizzled out within seconds. He couldn't do much more.
.
He fumbled with her phone. He shivered at the thought, but as quickly as he could, he called Sans. His heart leapt when he heard the click on the other end. "Sans." Gaster almost choked. "C-Can you come to the lab? Now? I've done something horrible."
xXxXx
Alphys stared at the screen of her phone, puffing her cheeks and frowning in frustration. She dialled Frisk's number again. Why wasn't anyone answering? And what did Gaster want with those old contraptions of his?
.
She tapped her foot and tried Gaster's number. Still nothing. What was he doing? She called Papyrus and he didn't answer either. Sans. Nope. Alphys pouted. Maybe her phone fix hadn't worked as well as she hoped.
.
She sat down with her laptop on her knees against one of the CORE tower's big, blue walls, and checked the diagnostic she'd been running. She sniffled— the sharp, high-atmosphere smell of the place sometimes made her snout itch. Everything looked normal on the screen, though. She sneezed, squeaked, and then leaned back and sighed to herself.
.
She was about to try calling Undyne, but heels clunking on the metal floors gave her a start and she fumbled with the device. Yelping, she caught the thing in shaking fingers and then clutched it close to her chest. She looked off towards the sound, brows raised high.
"M-Mettaton, is that you? You didn't have trouble with the reset switch, d-did you?" she called.
"Oh, it's me alright," he said. "Uhhh… No. But…" He came around the corner and into view with Asriel draped, limp, in his arms. "I had a trouble with the Prince?"
.
Alphys's jaw dropped and she stammered incoherently as she slammed her laptop shut and stumbled to her feet. She ran over to meet Mettaton and reached her hands up for the boy. He dipped and gently passed Asriel over to her.
"Wh-What the h-hell h-h-happened?!" she demanded. "Is he..?!" She lowered her head to listen to his breathing— it was shallow, but regular.
"I honestly don't have a clue, he just sort of started glowing and then he swore and fell over. I barely caught him."
"What colour?" Alphys asked.
"Red, of course," he said. "The same as his soul."
.
Alphys bit her lip. She cupped the boy's face. "Az? Sweetie? Are you okay? Can you h-hear me?"
"I tried that already, darling," Mettaton said apologetically. "Should we take him to the hotel? Give him a bed?"
"I don't… uh… B-But the lab h-has all my…" Her eyes went wide. "G-Gaster."
"Gaster? What about Gaster?" he asked.
"Whatever h-he was doing with…" Alphys's scales went pale. "F-Frisk. Oh." She looked down at Asriel, eyes like full moons. "Oh g-god what did he do…?!"
"Forget that, what do we do?! Namely so that Lady Toriel does not dismember me and melt me down," he said. "And we don't get sent to the dungeons for attempted regicide."
"Uhhhh. Uhhhhhhh…" Alphys began to sweat. "O-Okay. Okay. Let's… Let's take him to the hotel j-just… just to g-get our bearings."
.
Mettaton scooped the boy out of Alphys's arms and gently held him over his shoulder. He tilted his head down the walkway and urged her along.
.
The hotel lobby was too busy for anyone to pay them much attention. As they slipped off towards the stairs up to the second level, the crowds were forced to part by a pale someone sprinting through the lower floor and slamming out the front door.
"H-Hey, was…? That wasn't Papyrus, w-was it?" she asked.
"Not a clue," Mettaton said. He grabbed Alphys's hand and pulled her along, even as she strained to look back at the confused crowd to no avail.
.
Bursting into his large, decorative, private suite, Mettaton gently lay Asriel down in the fresh linens and placed his head carefully on a fluffy pillow. Alphys crawled up beside him and held him, her magic sparking through his body. Mettaton paced and she tried to heal as best she could. He didn't actually feel damaged, though. She couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.
"D-Do you think you c-can call his mom?" Alphys said. "And try F-Frisk again? Or Sans? Or a-anyone?"
"Uhhhh. Well. I mean. Yes. Yes, okay." Mettaton backed away from her and clenched his fist, holding out his thumb and pinkie and putting them to his head as if they were a phone. He tapped his magenta boot on the floor.
.
Alphys bit her lip. Time dragged. It seemed like it was forever.
.
"Ah! Lady Toriel!" Mettaton said loudly. "Hello. Yes. This is Mettaton. Would you mind coming down to my marvellous hotel? Doctor Alphys and I have a… Yes. Yes. No. Oh, no, it's… Well, it'd be best for you to see for yourself! Um. Yes, alright, I will meet you in the lobby, thank you, goodbye!" He looked back at Alphys and shrugged.
"Why didn't you say what was h-happening?" she asked shrilly.
"Because I think she can breathe fire through a receiver, mon cheri." He tapped his metallic fingertips together and leaned over the boy. "Is it helping?"
Alphys breathed out a long, heavy sigh, and she shrugged slightly. She worriedly snuggled him and then leaned in to listen to his breath again. It seemed to have relaxed. With shaking fingers, she stroked the fur on his head.
"A-Asriel?" she asked softly. "Can you hear me? C-Come on, sweetie."
.
Time trudged like molasses. Alphys felt like she might be sick. She gently rocked the boy. Her throat caught. When he shifted, she almost jumped right out of her scales. She yelped loudly and then barked out a relieved laugh. She cuddled him and smooched his head.
"Oh thank god," she muttered. "Asriel, are you okay?"
He grunted groggily, his voice soft and weak. Sounded a little like an affirmation, though she couldn't be sure. Mettaton blew out a sigh and ran the back of his hand over his brow.
"Thank goodness," he said. "Prince Dreemurr? C'mon now, darling, it's not time to nap."
Asriel let out some small noise that was probably a response, but he couldn't quite rouse himself.
"L-Let's just give him some time," Alphys said.