AN: And, once again, I'm late uploading! But only by a day, so that's not SO bad, right . . . ? Anyway! Thanks for tuning in! There's a lot to catch up on so we'll get to all that in a second.

This is another half-skeleton chapter. A LITTLE more fleshed out than the last one, but still in its primal form before editing and expanding. I promise the chapters will be back to normal soon! Until then, enjoy!

Chapter 9
The Florence Nightingale Effect

At home over the next few weeks, Dr. and Mrs. Gaster begin to take notice of the change in their son as well. Corbel is more involved at home. He's smiling a lot more than he had been before he started work in the lab. He's excited about going to work and he makes sure he's well dressed and presentable before he leaves, sometimes even coming home after school to "freshen up" before heading in. At night, he laughs around the dinner table and they notice that instead of stories about school and what his friends there have been up to, his dinner time stories are usually about things that happened at the lab- things Sans said and what they'd done that day. The parent's think it's wonderful that Corbel is connecting so much with this other skeleton, especially considering he'd never known another skeleton outside of their family before.

At work, Corbel and Sans are often assigned to projects together since that's how they work best. The two of them laugh and joke while working. It makes the day go by faster and they're actually more productive this way. It's great!

And as time passes, Corbel starts to learn a lot more at the lab than just the scientific aspects of the place. Though he is very much dedicated to the work and he's glad he has the opportunity to not only ask the questions on his mind, but to explore them and find answers on his own, but he also has the privilege to discover something completely new . . .

As Corbel gets to know his lab partner, he also begins to take notice of all the little things about him and appreciate how he operates. He notices the way Sans' smile will pull at the edges and cover his entire face when he thinks something is truly funny. Or the way he will hide his face completely and just let his shoulders bounce when he is trying to sober himself long enough to take a measurement or a reading. Sometimes, on magical occasions, Sans will get lost in the joke for a while, but when he comes back and he's trying to make himself focus again, he will let out an audible sigh. Corbel finds himself craving the sound of that sigh, and he strives to hear that tell-tale gut laughter. The sound fills him and gives him purpose. Corbel makes it his personal mission to get Sans to laugh like that as much as he possibly can.

Eventually, he notices other differences as well. How bright the lab seems, knowing Sans will be there. He looks forward to going and working the same assignments with him. And even though he's supposed to be making sure he and his father got home on time, he found himself dreading that time of day now. He also notices that even though, he's excited about seeing the other Skeleton (almost) every day, he's also exceedingly nervous about it. He and Sans are already friends . . . at least he liked to think so . . . so there's no real reason to feel that way. But whenever their eyes meet for just a little longer than normal or when they both reach for the same tool or bounce ideas off of each other until they come to a realization at the same time, something within Corbel shifts and it feels as if it's tickling at his soul. He finds himself reliving the moment in a multitude of endless cycles and sometimes it gets difficult to breathe. During these times, he would have to loosen his tie and unbutton the topmost button of his shirt. At first, he thought it was because of the heat of the area. After all, the lab was located in Hotland. But after a while, Corbel noticed the correlation between the events- the cause and effect- and he was able to draw a conclusion. He had to take a step back and look at the situation as if from a third party- a technique Sans had suggested whenever he was debating about making a difficult decision.

If it had been any one of his friends acting this way, he would've jeered at them and poked fun at them for having a crush.

Is that what this was!? Is that what this feeling was supposed to mean . . . ? Did he have a-a crush . . . on Sans!?

Of course not! That's not what this was at all! How could it be? There's no way he would let something so foolish and childish happen. Sans was a friend! Like Metta! Like Undyne! Like Napstablook!

But still . . . none of them sent his heart into spasms in quite the same way. None of them made him second guess his every action for fear of seeming awkward. None of them made him feel quite so . . .

He needed to get to the bottom of this ASAP. He needed to know for sure.

Even after trying Sans' technique, he decided he needed to get another opinion from someone who would know best.

"Mom . . . C-can I talk to you for a second?"

"Honey, of course! What's the matter?"

"O-oh, nothing . . . it's nothing, I just want . . . um . . . So, um . . . you and dad. . . have been together for a long time."

"Well, yes, I suppose we have."

"And you knew each other . . . a-and liked each other for a long time before that . . . ?"

"Corbel, what is this about? Is there something wrong between you and your father? Did something happen?"

"No! No, that's not it . . . things are going great there! And we're making so much progress . . ."

"Then, what's the matter, honey? What's bothering you so much?"

"M-mom . . . wh-when-when did you know . . . that dad was . . . th-that he was 'the one'? How did you know you were . . . How-how can you tell?"

Nyala cocks her head "Corbel . . . ?"

"Ne-nevermind. It's stupid . . . forget I asked."

"No! No, Corbel, please. Obviously, this is important to you and I want to help where I can." She takes a minute to reflect on the question and after the minute passes, she speaks again.

"I think that I fell for your father not too long after we met actually . . . I was new to the area and an outsider. Not only did I not sound like the other monsters because . . . well, my accent was pretty strong back then, but on top of that, my magic frightened them. You know how my magic looks different than yours or Wingdings' right?"

"Yeah, it has that shimmering pearl look to it, it's really pretty! I kinda wished I could make my magic look like yours when I was a kid."

"Oh! Thank you for saying so, baby!"

"Don't tell me they were scared because of that!"

"It didn't look like anything they'd ever seen before. They thought I was sick or that I would pass it on like a disease if they got too close to me. Middle school children can be cruel. And it didn't help that I went to a predominantly human school. Even if the humans knew and were friends with other monsters, they were very reluctant to accept me. Even in the groups I could get into, there were a few who went out of their way to make sure I was miserable. Destroying my art supplies and slashing my paintings. Defacing them. Ruining my clothing. Stealing my shoes so I'd have to walk home barefoot. Or worse, stealing all of my clothing while I showered after PE so I was stuck in the locker room with nothing but a towel."

"Mom, that's terrible! What the heck!?"

"Yes. I think they were trying to convince me to leave. And I wanted to. I wanted to go back home where I had friends and history. But, of course, that was impossible with my parents working where we were. I realized that I had two choices. I could either toughen up and just learn to endure it or I could fight back.

"So I chose to fight back.

"If they were so afraid of my magic, I figured I would use it to drive them away. When they would approach me, I would set up a barrier, make it flare out, threaten to catch them in it if they got near me or my supplies. I would set traps in my locker for those who would try to steal my shoes or my clothes during P.E. And if the bullying ever got physical . . . which began to happen more often once I started to fight back . . . I would surround them in my magic and threaten to suffocate them with it. It was an empty threat, of course, but some were scared away by it. For some, it worked a little too well. They reported me and I was nearly expelled."

"For trying to stand up for yourself!? What a load of crap! Why didn't you report them right back!? Tell them what they were doing to you and that you were only trying to defend yourself! Didn't they see what was going on?"

"I tried, but it seemed as if they'd already made up their minds about me and they'd already chosen sides. If it hadn't been for one monster who backed me and pleaded my case to the school, I would've been gone. He called in witnesses and got testimonies from other kids who suffered the same hardships I had. The only difference in my case was that I made it a point to fight back where they had been too timid to stir the pot.

"But when that monster approached me, I had no idea who he was. I just thought he was another antagonizer and I prepared to fight. It was the only way I knew that I could get out of a situation like that. He approached me still with his hands up so I could see them. He was trying to show me that he didn't intend to harm me. I'd seen the others do the same thing as a ploy to get close and I'd fallen for that trick one too many times to let it happen again with this guy. I didn't budge in the slightest and instead continued to glare at him, telling him that if he came any closer, I would strike.

"He took the next step forward and I hesitated, not because I was afraid, but because he'd taken off his gloves and I saw the holes in his hands. I thought that maybe the others had done that to him, that he was a victim, just like I was. That maybe he actually understood.

"He took a few more slow steps forward and I took a step back. When he got close enough, he took my hands and I panicked, my magic flaring out again and trapping both of us in a swirling vortex. Instead of him being frightened and stepping back like I thought, he stood there calmly and looked around us, astonished by the look and the feel of my magic. His very first word. The very first word I ever heard him speak was while he was staring with his eyes widened. His mouth had fallen open as well. Do you know what he said?"

Corbel shakes his head.

"As he stood there staring at my magic, he wasn't afraid, he wasn't taken aback at all, and he wasn't even very surprised. He was just . . . in awe. And all he said was, 'Wow . . .' When he looked back at me, he smiled.

"He was only 14 and I was only 12, but I think that's when I knew . . . maybe not that he was 'the one' but that he was different. That he was genuinely not afraid of me and that he actually had an interest in me.

"As I spent more time with him, I began to appreciate his thirst for knowledge, his passion, and his curiosity. At first, it was slightly frustrating that he wanted me to use my magic more, knowing that it was a sensitive subject for me and that it was the stem of my bullying, but he wanted me to see that it was nothing to be ashamed of. That it was a part of me just like any other monster's magic was a part of them. That it was beautiful and it was something they could never take from me. Turns out, he had a sweet side too.

"I noticed that when we spent more and more time together, I was feeling happier than I ever had before. I was smiling all the time, so much that my parents noticed. I was excited to go to school knowing that he would be there and when he was missing or out for the day, I would shut down a little and withdraw into myself until he returned. I hummed to myself when I painted and there was a never-ending well of inspiration when I thought about him. I was motivated by him.

"When we got closer, he would make little things for me out of wire and wood and I would paint for him or sing for him in return. I think a few of the things he made for me made it to the Underground with us. I'll have to show you sometime.

"Skip ahead to Wingdings' first year in high school. There was a school dance and instead of asking one of the high school girls, he came to me and asked me even though I was still only in my last year of middle school at the time. He was so incredibly nervous and cute about asking me too. I couldn't say no! He made a little flower for me and I wore it around my wrist and we dated ever since. He was 15 and I'd just turned 13. Looking back, we were so young, but I think that was the most important meeting of my life. And the most lasting friendship I've could have ever hoped for." Nyala's face rests in a peaceful smile.

"I hope my story helps you, honey." She says sweetly, finished with her tale.

Corbel thinks it over, taking in everything his mother told him and applying it to his current situation. Did he feel the same way?

What was he doing now? Weren't those feelings the exact reason he was here right now? He'd felt so strongly about this - about him - that he asked his mother. Surely, that meant something, didn't it?

"I think it does," Corbel hums with a grin, "Thanks, Mom."

"You're very welcome, baby!" Her smile brightens as well, noticing Corbel's hum and the magic blush in his cheeks.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me who it is, are you? The one who's making you ask these questions and smile so sheepishly?"

For a brief moment, Corbel's eyes widen as he realizes he's been caught, but he supposes it was incredibly obvious. His face settles into a nervous smile once again.

"Not . . . not yet. Not until I know for sure."

Nyala nods her understanding, but she's already drawn some conclusions of her own. Maybe she should talk to her husband about it . . . maybe get his opinion on the situation . . . maybe have him keep an eye on the two of them just to be sure.

Or . . . maybe she'll let Corbel handle this on his own. Oh, his first crush! How exciting!

Time goes by and it's business as usual. Corbel tries to be a bit more discrete, but of course, his mother, observant as she is, can see right through the charade.

One night, Nyala suggests that perhaps Sans would like to come by for dinner sometime and catch up. She says that it's been a while since she's seen him and she'd like to see how he's been doing. After dinner, the two of them could have a guy's night and she and Gaster could maybe go out. At first, Corbel hesitates, wondering if it's such a good idea, but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea. And it would mean more time with Sans. More chances to make him laugh.

"I'll ask him and see what he says." Corbel grins.

The next day at work, Corbel finds it difficult to concentrate and whenever he sees or thinks about Sans, a heated feeling flushes through him and he has to put a cap on his steadily wandering thoughts. When he's finally able to shove down his nerves, he tries to casually approach the subject of a sleepover with Sans. He finds a moment to talk to Sans right before the lunch hour and while they were setting some things aside to come back to after lunch. Corbel approaches the subject saying it was his mother's idea . . . which isn't a lie and that she said it was a shame they haven't had him back over sooner. Not since the first time when they'd brought him home after the CORE incident and Sans had refused the invitation of living with the Gaster family.

At first, Sans is hesitant about the dinner invitation, unsure if he'd be overstepping a boundary- it could potentially get really awkward going to his boss' home for dinner, but at Corbel's insistence, Sans ultimately smiles and agrees.

Corbel seems to light up for the rest of the day, talking about how his mother makes the best spaghetti and maybe he could convince her to make some for when Sans comes over. He tells Sans all about how the two of them used to cook together all the time, but even if he had been improving, he was never really as good as she was. He could bake cookies, though, improving on his father's recipes. He'd been messing around with the recipes and trying new things with his dad ever since he was a kid. He supposes that's part of what led to the love for experimentation. One time they deviated from the recipe so much that -

Corbel stops dead in his story as Sans seems distracted. Seeing this, something clenches in Corbel's chest again. In his excitement, he didn't notice Sans was upset. No! Did he do that? Was it something he said?

"Sans, are you okay? Did I upset you?"

Sans widened his eyes for a moment, turning his attention back to the younger Skeleton, "Wha-no! Of course not! That- sounds really nice and it's cool that your family is so close. You're a lucky guy. I didn't spend a whole lot of time there before, but your mom was really sweet to me and of course your dad . . ."

Of course! How could Corbel have forgotten!? Sans didn't have a family! He was on his own from a young age and had to make do without parents like his! Of course, he didn't want to hear him boast about how great his family was and all the stuff they did together . . .

Corbel hummed solemnly, turning his face away, "I'm sorry."

Sans sparked up at that, "Wait-what? Why?"

"I didn't mean to bring all that up and make you . . ."

"Geez, Corbel! No! All that's fine! I was just thinking . . . that I have no idea what to bring! I mean, if your mom's making spaghetti and you and your dad are making cookies, then I gotta contribute somehow! Besides, I should at least try to pay 'em back for everything they've done for me, right?"

Corbel hesitated, unsure of whether or not he actually believed Sans. It did sound like he was fishing for an answer. "Well, don't worry about that!" He answered all the same, "Just bring you! Well, I guess, Mom did say it would be a guy's night. She and Dad are finally planning to go out for a date night after dinner . . . let's hope. S-so, I guess you can bring whatever you want. And you're welcome to stay the night as well, so there's that too."

"So, we'd just be hanging out at your house while your parents go out on a date . . . ?"

"Y-yeah. Sounds like. Is that okay?"

Sans smiles at Corbel, "Sounds great."

When the lab is closing and everyone is packing up to go home at the end of the day, Corbel decides to spend the last few minutes in Gaster's office. He's curled up on the corner of a small fold-up futon with a pencil and a pad of paper, just to kill time while he waits for his dad to finish up the last of his report.

"You've been awfully quiet, son." Gaster commented as he continued in his work, "Is something bothering you?"

"Hmm?" Corbel answers quietly, not even bothering to look up from his paper. He didn't hear the question and hasn't been paying attention in the slightest.

"What are you working on?" The father asked, taking a moment to set his pen down.

"Oh, nothing!" Corbel answered a little more defensively than he'd meant to. "I mean, it's not important."

"Are you sketching? You haven't drawn anything since you were seven!"

Corbel chuckled at his paper. "It shows. You know, I was thinking about asking Mom for lessons . . . She told me how she used to paint for you when you were younger and how you would make things for her out of wire and wood."

"She did?" Gaster asks with a bit of a grin, memories pouring in.

"Yeah. How come people don't do stuff like that for each other anymore? Kinda sad."

"That's a great question. Well, either way, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to teach you if you ask her." As they spoke, Gaster monitored his son and his movements. He hadn't looked up once during their conversation, but kept a constant smile down to his paper. What was he drawing?

Come to think of it, Nyala had mentioned something to him in passing. Maybe it was time to test her theory.

"Speaking of." Gaster continued, "What did Sans say about dinner?"

"Oh, he's in!" Corbel answered cheerfully, "It's funny, actually. He was afraid about coming at first. He didn't want to come empty-handed, which I totally get, but I told him not to worry about it. That it'd be good enough if he just showed up . . . But knowing him, he's gonna try to bring something . . . What that is or whether it's appropriate for dinner is another issue altogether. I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up with a rubber chicken or something like that! He's a total nutcase, you know!?" Corbel laughed, erasing a spot carefully, before twirling his pencil in his fingers and continuing his sketching. "But still, the idea's nice, isn't it? I don't know if he's actually gonna stay the night though, but he might. It's kinda tedious navigating from Waterfall to here unless you ask the Riverperson, but after dinner and hanging out for a while, I dunno if he'll be up for it. You know, he actually gets tired pretty quickly. It's kinda weird. Maybe he's just not sleeping well or something. Well, it seems as if he's doing well here, so maybe he can get that apartment he was talking about! Well, here's hoping, right? So anyway, when he comes over, I'll make sure he's got sheets and a blanket and maybe he can stay on the couch . . . By the way, I was thinking . . . Do you think Mom would be up for making spaghetti? I'll help her of course . . . And maybe I'll make cranberry orange cookies. Haven't made those in a while, huh? Do you think he'd like those? Ugh . . . I hope he's not allergic or anything . . . Heh, I suppose I could ask. Yeah, maybe I'll ask tomorrow. So, what do you think? Friday? Still gives us a couple of days and there wouldn't be any obligations the next day. You and Mom could stay out as long as you like and we could sleep in. Maybe make breakfast in the morning . . . ?" Corbel trailed off as his thoughts ran off without him.

"Goodness." Gaster chuckled from his spot leaning forward on his desk, "And to think I was worried about you being so quiet before . . . I think that's the most I've heard you speak in one go in years! You must be really excited about this get-together!"

"Well . . . yeah. How often does something like this happen!? And Sans is becoming a really good friend! I hope we could still be friends even after all of this school stuff too . . . Man, that reminds me! I said I'd set up another get-together with Undyne and the Blooks too! He met them a little while ago and they seemed to hit it off okay, but I dunno, I really really want them to get along, you know? I mean, they're my best friends! They have been for a long time! Like my whole life! And Sans is . . ."

"Corbel." Gaster pushed quietly, gently warning his son that he was about to go on another rambling session.

Corbel cleared his throat, finally turning his eyes and a slightly embarrassed smile up to his father.

"Sorry."

Gaster shook his head briefly, dismissing the apology, as he pushed his chair back and made to stand.

"Why don't we head home now?"

Corbel closed the notepad and shoved the pencil in the little spiral along the top, "Sounds good to me."

Author Footnote: Just in case you were curious: The Florence Nightingale effect is a trope where a caregiver develops romantic feelings, sexual feelings, or both for their patient, even if very little communication or contact takes place outside of basic care.

Source . . . Um . . . I googled it.