A.N: Welcome back, dearest readers! It's so nice to see you again! And to those who have just joined us: WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? THIS IS SUPER SPOILER TERRITORY! I will be MORE than happy to welcome you properly once you've caught up with the story! And if you're new and you HAVE caught up already . . . I'm sorry for yelling!

Anyway, things in-story have been pretty tense for a while now. I wonder how this whole crazy fiasco is going to play out! When last we saw our heroes, Corbel was being pulled every-which-way by the figures of his visions. And Sans was trying to find a way to help his suffering friend. Let's join them, shall we?

Chapter 17

Wake

(wāk)

Verb:

1. to emerge or cause to emerge from a state of sleep; to stop sleeping

Noun:

2. a watch or vigil held beside the body of someone who has died

It wasn't too much longer afterward that there was a soft knock.

"Sans . . . ?" said an equally soft voice.

Sans lifted his eyes and turned to look back at the door.

"Sans, are you okay in here?"

"Mrs. Gaster." Sans answered just as quietly, "Is my time up . . . ? Where's the Doctor?"

"He's resting for the moment. I'm here for my shift."

She entered the room completely and closed the door behind her, which to Sans, meant two things. One, Doctor Gaster wouldn't be following. And two, she wasn't kicking him out right away.

"How is he?" She asked, looking back to where her son slept.

Sans released a heavy and exhausted sigh, thinking over the past fifteen minutes or so. "He's been out the whole time . . . There was a moment where I thought he was going to wake up and, honestly, it kinda scared the crap outta me, but he didn't wake up and he's been like this ever since."

As Nyala made her way across the room, Sans took that as his cue to stand. She would need the chair he was using in order to keep watch over Corbel. When she saw that he was moving from the seat, she shook her head, insisting that he keep the seat for the time being.

"Thank you, Sans, for watching over him." She smiled.

Sans nodded once, giving her a slight bow from the seat.

"He really is strong, isn't he?" Sans acknowledged.

"He is. Even if it might not be physical strength, he always finds a way to persevere especially if it's for his friends. He's not to be underestimated."

"I guess not. Is that why you wanted to gather his friends around?" Sans speculated, "Because you knew that if his friends were around, they would support him and give him a little more incentive to pull through?"

"You say 'they' like you're not included. Sans, surely you know just how much Corbel treasures your company. He responded just to the sound of your voice. That speaks volumes on its own."

Sans released a soft sigh and lowered his head. "I don't think I really did until very recently. But I made my apologies already for being so utterly clueless before now . . . and I hope that I can somehow make it up to him."

Nyala hummed and passed Sans on his left side to take a seat at the foot of Corbel's bed.

"Sans . . . do you mind if I ask you something?"

Something in the tone of the question made Sans consider and reconsider his answer. Of course, it was something serious, but there was something foreboding in her voice as well . . .

But then again, did he really have the right to refuse?

"What's the question?" He asked cautiously.

Nyala's gaze turned to watch the rise and fall of Corbel's chest. He looked so peaceful now. So already, that was an improvement from before . . . But how long would it last?

. . . How long would he last?

"I've asked this question of Wingdings already, but I wanted to know what your answer is . . . If . . . There's no way to turn this around . . . If we lose Corbel to this . . . What will you do?"

Sans kept his head lowered and did not look up. He had to take several moments to think about how he was going to answer that.

"If Corbel . . . Doesn't make it out of this . . . I don't . . . I'll . . . Have to accept that I'll have his blood on my hands for the rest of my life . . . And I'll have to stand and take whatever punishment is coming my way. Whatever you and the doc've got for me. Whatever his friends've got. Everyone Corbel's touched. And I'll have to deal with that . . . After that, though . . . Well, you don't have to worry about that. You'll never have to deal with me again."

"Hmm. . . I was afraid of that." Nyala sighed, "And I must say, I'm a little disappointed."

"Disappointed . . . ?"

Nyala nodded, "I never took you for one who would run away so easily."

Sans perked at that, turning to tilt his eyes up to Mrs. Gaster in mild shock, "Wait, run? No, that's not what I'm-"

"Yes, you'll stay and take responsibility. You'll take the blame and let everyone make you the villain because you think it's what you deserve. Are you saying that you won't even stick around and help those who are hurting? You're just going to leave them broken while what? You go off alone and suffer in silence? Or will you do something more drastic?"

Sans fell quiet, his eyes lowering once again to the floor between them.

"Have you considered your other options? That maybe it would be better if you did stay around. Maybe there's a way for you to still do some good and maybe in the process, you'll be healed as well?"

". . . But, I . . ."

"You say that you want to 'make it up to him'. Have you considered that this might be the way to do it?"

Sans remained silent, thinking it over. How, after all of this, would Sans be of any use to anyone? He would be the focal point of so much disdain that even being in the same room with him could set someone off . . . Just like Doctor Gaster now.

But then again . . . She did have a point. There would be a lot of people who would be in pain if the worst were to happen . . . Himself included. And the best way to get through it would, undoubtedly, be together. But that being said, man, did she had a way of driving her point home in a way that stung like Hell.

"But that, as my husband would say, is only me speaking hypothetically." Nyala cracked a tiny smile, "As it stands, Corbel is still alive and for all we know . . . wait a second!"

Sans' eyes widened, noticing as several completely different emotions shot through Mrs. Gaster. At first there was surprise and a little shock that melted into apprehension that gave way to skepticism and transitioned into disbelief that finally turned into something that he hadn't seen on her in a long time. She seemed to be filled with a certain enthusiasm and spark that had been completely missing before now. He noticed that this entire time, during their silence, her eyes had trained to the monitor as it displayed all of Corbel's information.

"What is it?" Sans asked, trying to pinpoint what she was looking at.

She remained silent for a moment, her eyes glued to the monitor. After a few seconds more, her eyes widened and a bit more of her smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"His HP . . . is stable. I thought that certainly, I would have to heal him right about now . . . that he would only be at about a quarter of his Max . . . but this. His HP isn't depleting nearly at the same rate as before . . . It hasn't moved at all since I've been looking at it . . . Not only that, but it has actually gone up since his last CHECK . . . how . . . ? Sans, did you . . . did you heal him while you were here?"

Sans looked again to the monitor and to Mrs. Gaster's noticeably more chipper appearance, "I-I wish I could say I did." He answered honestly, "But I actually never learned how to heal."

"But then . . . how . . . ?" Nyala looked once again between the monitor and Corbel. She chanced a look toward Sans as well to find his curious but confused expression.

"Anyway," She continued, speaking more to herself than to Sans, "This is a step in the right direction! And it must be the reason he's sleeping so peacefully. I'll tell his father about this when he comes back for his shift. For now, we should let him rest as long as he possibly can. After all, even though Corbel's HP might finally be stable for now, that doesn't mean that he's in the clear just yet. I'll still have to keep a close eye on him . . . but still. His HP isn't draining . . . I-I don't know what you did, Sans, but whatever it was . . . Thank you!"

"O-oh . . . I didn't do anything." Sans insisted, a little stunned by the praise and gratitude immediately after painting himself as a villain and scapegoat for so long. Honestly, the direction switched so suddenly that he thought he might actually be suffering from a little whiplash. "I was just . . . I talked to him like you suggested."

"Then . . . it worked?" Nyala sighed through a small bit of relief. "Gently stimulating his senses through familiar sounds and conversation. It might not look like much, but Sans, you really did help a lot and we do thank you for it! Even if it doesn't quite look or feel like it at the moment. From here, because his HP won't be draining nearly as quickly as before . . . now that it's been normalized, we can focus on making him more comfortable so he's not in pain when he wakes up. Perhaps we can even find ways of mending him . . ."

"Actually," Sans began, "I've been thinking about that. "You said that the doc had this same degenerative disease when he was young, right? But someone was able to stop it in him . . . Do we know anything about that someone? Who they were? What their methods might have been? Does Gaster remember the procedure at all?"

"Oh, Sans." Nyala hummed. "Wingdings has been working on finding that solution for years, with little result. He does remember the one who stopped the spread in him as well as the remedies and drugs that eased him during his recovery and those that have helped him cope since. But when she died, most of her work pertaining to those specific procedures vanished with her. Wingdings has poured over her research notes and experiments, trying to find solutions in her remaining works, but so far, he's come up almost empty-handed, even after all this time. The most he's been able to do for Corbel so far has been the inhaler and Corbel's cuffs."

"His cuffs . . . ?" Sans questioned, "You mean those gloves he wears all the time?"

"Exactly. Those cuffs are how he's been able to retain his independence."

Sans hummed in thought. "And how do they work?"

"They are prosthetic fingers that connect to solid bands around his wrists. They are attuned to his specific magical signature and allow him to control each finger individually like his real hands. It took a lot of time, practice and patience for him to be able to use them."

"I'll bet. I honestly didn't even know they weren't part of him . . . I just thought he really liked wearing those gloves."

Nyala's soft smile returned and spread. "Yes, he was adamant about the design. He wanted them to look as natural as possible. And the fingerless glove 'looked cool' so he could wear them to school and still be in style."

Sans actually let out a bit of a chuckle at that, "I never thought he was the type to care that much . . ." He thought again about the outfits Corbel had chosen to wear, even recently, to the bar and to other casual settings. "But then again. I guess I should have expected it. He does find clever ways to cover up in a way that doesn't draw attention to the fact that he's doing it. I never caught on at all until Undyne happened to mention it to me . . .

"Anyway." he continued, "Those cuffs got me thinking. What are his prosthetics made of? Can the doc make more? Not only for his hands and maybe his foot, but for the sections in his body that aren't as strong anymore? The missing ribs? Can he use it to graft the breaks in his sternum and in his clavicle. Is there a way to use the material to hold the fractures together? He could use the same material as bone grafts and replacements so they wouldn't just be prosthetic, but a part of his structure . . ."

His proposal was met with momentary silence. During the time, the monitor beeped a few times, filling the space between them.

"O-of course," Sans began again a bit apprehensively, "If I'm suggesting it, I'm sure the doc's already thought about it . . . as well as why it won't work . . . And if it was worth the effort, he would've done it by now."

"Now. Don't say that." Nyala answered, "It is a very good idea, and it's worth bringing up with him. If it's an option he's considered in the past, then we can explore other avenues. Maybe we can look into why the idea was discarded, and remedy those reasons, or it will begin a whole new line of suggestion. It's definitely worth looking into and I'll be sure to bring it up with him when he returns. Until then, Sans, you look absolutely worn out. Perhaps it would be best if you got some rest as well?"

Sans scoffed, "Do I really look that bad?"

Nyala kept her smile as she looked back toward Sans, a bit of empathy in her eyes, "You look terrible." She answered honestly.

"Gee thanks . . . Well, I guess if Mama Gaster says so, then there's no denying it." As if on cue, a massive yawn fought its way through Sans and he had to struggle in order to keep it in check.

At the same time, a short puff of laughter escaped Nyala as well.

"Mama Gaster, huh?" She questioned with a slight shake of her head, "Well, I must admit, that's a new one."

"Well, yeah. It does fit, don't you think? And actually, Gaine, one of the other assistants, got into the habit early on of calling Corbel 'Kid Gaster' and the name never really lifted . . . It was probably a one-time-thing this time, though. I can stop if you want me to."

Nyala giggled at the story, "No-no. It's fine. In fact, it's endearing. I like it."

"Heh, okay. Mama Gaster it is." Sans smiled a little as he shifted to stand. Again, he made a note not to put too much weight on his left leg. And he held onto the seat back for a little added support.

For a moment, Sans looked between the chair and the exit.

"So. . . Um, about what happens next. I dunno if I should ask you or if I should try the Doctor a little later . . . But . . ."

"Go home for right now. Sleep in your own bed. Get some real rest, if you can. Come back fresh in the morning. We'll see what happens then."

"And Alia . . . The human . . . ?"

"She will be safe here for the night. She has a bed and blankets so she should be comfortable. If you like, you can check on her in the morning as well. As I understand it, we will need to report her to the king and queen. They will decide what is to be done about her."

Sans lowered his expression toward the ground again, "Well, she did say she wanted to meet the king and queen. She seemed enchanted by them actually. I hope things go well."

Sans sighed again, thinking things through. He turned his attention back toward the bed where Corbel slept and for a long moment, he didn't turn his eyes away, as if willing toward him what he wanted to say. The fingers of his hand stretched and contracted in his direction, as he debated what to do and what to say.

"Sans?" Nyala asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

Sans seemed to blink out of his trance. "Y-yeah- yeah. I'm fine . . . just . . . I know I've said it so many times already, but . . . if he does wake up can you . . . tell him I'm sorry? Again?"

Nyala shook her head, answering immediately. "I won't. It would mean nothing coming from me. But if he does wake up. I'll give you a call so you can tell him yourself."

Sans sighed, finally turning his eyes away. "Sounds fair."

"Get some rest, Sans. I'll see you tomorrow."

Sans nodded and crossed the room in almost complete silence. He moved slowly and tried to walk despite the pain in his leg.

"Yeah." He said again, his voice low and maybe a bit distracted, "See ya, Mama Gaster."

Sans left a moment later, closing the door softly behind him.

When the door was closed and Nyala was left alone, she let out a long breath, relaxing her shoulders.

At her side, there was a slight movement and a low groan. He didn't wake, but Corbel did seem to notice the change in the area and in the energies around him.

Nyala reached out to take Corbel's hand gently in hers.

"It's okay, baby." She assured. "He just went home to sleep for a little bit. He'll be back in the morning, but you gotta let him sleep too, you know?"

Corbel seemed to whine a little in his sleep, but he went back into rest mode shortly after.

Again, Nyala sighed heavily, a low humming sound escaping as well. She never released her son's hand, giving him constant assurance and constant contact.

"So," She began, speaking openly to the room, "What do you think? About what Sans said. Will it work?"

At first, there was no response, the room remained quiet. After a few moments, however, the intercom sparked to life and a deep voice rang through, filling the area around her.

"It is an option I explored in the early days of my research." The doctor answered, "Around the time I gave Corbel his first set of cuffs. However, I opted against it because Corbel was so young at the time. He was still growing and very rapidly at that. Grafting prosthetic bone to him meant adding something incapable of growing with him, which meant making more as he grew . . . and having to constantly break and re-break the bones that were already compromised to begin with. It would have been too risky then . . . not to mention painful for him."

"And now?"

Again, there was a bit of hesitation as Gaster seemed to think it over.

"Now . . . though he may still have some growing to do . . . he's slowed down significantly . . . I believe he may be just about finished. That being said, in order to get him back to some semblance of normalcy, there might not be any other way. So much of his integral structure was damaged in the cave-in, that even if we could wake him with as little discomfort as possible, he wouldn't be able to move on his own. So, to that end . . . I don't think we have a choice. He will, undoubtedly, need new cuffs after today since his were so badly damaged . . . and he'll need something to replace the foot he lost . . . if I could find a more efficient way of attaching them, making them seamless and undetectable, it may be possible to make it as if it is merely an extension of his own body. If that's the case then-"

"Honey." Nyala interjected, "You're rambling. Why don't we talk in here? I don't want to leave Corbel alone. And if you're not going to sleep, you should be with your son."

Sans lay awake staring upward at the ceiling. He'd wrapped a makeshift bandage around his leg and propped it up in an attempt to relieve some of the pain. It wasn't much, but it was definitely better than nothing.

Though he was absolutely exhausted and his body felt so heavy, he couldn't bring himself to sleep. Everything that happened, everything that was said, everything they went through, all felt like it was crushing him and holding him immobile. There was just so much.

How was he supposed to move from here?

He hadn't gone to see Alia before he left, but now that he was home, he regretted it. He wondered just how she was holding up. Such a little girl, trapped in a strange place, surrounded by monsters with no real way of knowing what was going to happen next or for how long she would be held captive.

He hoped she would be okay overnight. He would have to check in with her tomorrow like Mrs. Gaster suggested.

And Corbel was . . . Well, his condition was still iffy at best. But at least somehow his HP had miraculously stabilized. Though, if that was only while he was resting or if that miracle carried over to his waking state remained a mystery for now.

But to see for certain, Corbel would have to wake up. And if he remembered what Mrs. Gaster had been saying, they were trying to keep Corbel sleeping for the moment because of his HP and because of the pain he would be in. Well, he couldn't argue with that logic.

He attempted to wiggle the toes and flex the foot of his fractured leg and hissed at the discomfort. He immediately cursed himself for it too. After all, Corbel's state was so much worse than his. His chest had nearly been completely shattered, his hand had been crushed, several bones had been completely broken through and parts of his skull had been fractured. It was a miracle on its own that he was even still breathing.

Even though he knew Corbel's parents were there and that they would watch over him for the night, he had to admit, it was extremely difficult to just leave him like that. He hoped that he would be allowed to go back and visit Corbel again too.

He hoped he'd be allowed to go back to the lab at all. The doctor was still furious with him and he doubted he would let him anywhere near Corbel now. His only saving grace would be if Mrs. Gaster was still there.

But for now, Sans was still Gaster's employee . . . so he should behave as if he were still an assistant, right? Report for work like normal? Receive an assignment? Complete his tasks? Write his reports . . . ? Maybe be allowed to see Alia and Corbel?

If he were to play it like that, he would have to be up again in about two hours to get ready for work.

He really needed his rest.

After a long time of trying to find that rest with no avail whatsoever, he raised his arm, covering his eyes with his forearm as he let out yet another long breath.

"Damn it all . . ." he groaned. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to get his mind to shut off. He couldn't seem to relax in the slightest. And even if he did find that he was finally starting to drift, images of the cave-in immediately flooded his mind again and he would begin the cycle anew.

He lifted his arm from his burning eyes and reached upward toward the ceiling. He flexed his fingers and clenched his hand repeatedly. He let magic fill his hand and it began to flicker a faint blue.

Again, he saw Corbel's face full of fear and sadness. He saw the mountain topple in around him. He saw the aftermath. He saw Corbel fighting for his life. He felt the grip of Corbel's magic over his heart. And the almost empty feeling of holding what was left of his hand.

With a frustrated growl, Sans threw his arm out to the side. If only he'd used his magic from the beginning, none of this would have happened! They could've escaped together! And Corbel wouldn't have been . . . Corbel would still be . . .

"Damn it ALL!" he cried, pulling a pillow up to cover his face. He had to block it! All of it. Don't let anything else in.

He didn't move again for the next two hours. He couldn't find the strength or the energy.

He spent his night awake in a numb restless haze.

She got the message early in the morning as she was getting ready for her morning training routine. There was a blinking red light on her phone that indicated that someone had tried to call. When she checked the message, she was greeted by an exhausted sounding Mrs. Gaster who tried to remain collected as she conveyed the disturbing news.

"There's been a terrible accident." She began solemnly.

Right away, Undyne's eyes went wide as a seizing grip took hold in her chest. Just those words alone were able to bring her entire world to a screeching halt.

"What!?" She demanded of the phone as if the pre-recorded voice could hear and understand her. If it was Mrs. Gaster calling, informing her of an accident, it could only be one thing.

"What happened to Corbel!?"

"This evening, while conducting surveys on the CORE, there was a cave-in near the Ruins. Corbel was caught in the wreckage. He survived, but he is in critical condition. Please, if you can, come to the lab in Hotland. I think it would be best if his friends were with him now."

Mrs. Gaster let out a long breath, probably one she hadn't intended, "I wish it was under different circumstances, but I really am looking forward to seeing you again, Undyne. With hope, you'll get this message in time."

The message ended there. And afterward, there was just silence.

For a few moments, Undyne stood motionless, stricken by shock. Only certain words and phrases having seeped through.

"Accident . . . cave-in . . . wreckage . . . critical condition . . . Hotland . . . friends . . . in time."

"Shit!" Undyne growled, slamming the phone down on the dock. She immediately dropped everything she had in regards to her armor. She couldn't go to training right now! Not when her friend needed her! Not when something terrible happened to him!

Damn it! Why hadn't she been there for him before now!? Her best friend needed her! He was currently fighting for his life and where was she!? At home!? Sleeping comfortably!? Getting ready for a morning workout as if everything was perfect in the world!?

She rushed out of her home, grabbing nothing more than her shoes. She had to get going now! She wondered for a moment if the Blooks knew.

Luckily, she didn't have to look far. Next door, beyond the hedge, she was able to make out an incorporeal form. Napstablook was on their way out toward the snail farm. But they were alone!

"Blook!" Undyne called urgently, rushing forward to the hedge separating the two houses.

The ghost started, obviously caught off guard, and they slowly turned around, on-edge now.

"oohh undyne . . ." They moaned, "it's only you . . . um . . . good morning. i was just on my way to gather some snails. the queen requested some for pick-up. but you can join me if you want. if not, that's okay too."

"Sorry, Blook. No time right now. Where's Metta?"

"oh, he's still inside pretending he's asleep. he says he has to stock up and get all the beauty rest he can before he's so busy that he won't have time."

"Go get him. And your snails are gonna have to wait too. We have to get to Hotland now!"

It didn't take much more time after that. Once the Blooks were assembled, they made a beeline for Hotland, Undyne explaining the situation on the way. Once the others were aware that it was Corbel who needed their help, there were no questions and there was no hesitation. They had to get to him immediately. And if any of them could quick travel like Dr. Gaster could, they would be there already. Instead, they continued, Undyne jogging and the Blooks floating at a speed to match her.

They didn't stop until they reached the lab doors that physically barred them from going any further.

As soon as they reached the doors, Undyne pounded on them, yelling inside for someone to open up. When there was no immediate answer, she pounded on the door even harder, yelling even louder to get someone's attention. Metta tried to explain that she had to give the people inside longer than one second to get to the door. After all, it was still pretty early in the morning and it was outside of operating hours. The chances of someone waiting right next to the door for them were slim at best.

Even so, Undyne didn't seem to care. She continued pounding on the door nonstop.

Until eventually, there was movement on the other side. The door opened a crack and a small monster with large eyes peeked through.

"I'm sorry, but you've reached us outside of our normal-"

"Out of my way!" Undyne growled forcefully, shoving her way through the door and into the atrium. The assistant, his badge said his name was Maltez, was shoved aside as well, where he nearly fell before catching himself on the threshold.

Undyne charged in looking around the room . . . and having to admit that she had no idea where she was going. She'd never been inside the lab before even to visit. The whole area was foreign to her and she couldn't make heads or tails of the place at all.

"Hey, you." She called back to where Napstablook was apologizing to the assistant for her brash entrance. "Where are the Gasters?"

"And what makes you think I'll tell you?" Maltez growled back, "You should get out now before I have to call the Royal Guard."

"Go ahead! They'll just send me!"

"What's going on in here!?" Called another voice. This one sounded more authoritative than the other.

Undyne rolled her eyes, "Ah great. Another one."

When the three newcomers looked, the other monster's towering stature and his expression suggested the same authority as his voice. Behind him, a third monster, a young reptile woman about the same size and height as Maltez, followed. When Gaine stopped to be face-to-face with Undyne, she passed to stand near Maltez.

"What happened?" She asked with caution in her approach and concern in her voice.

"Where. Is. Corbel?" Undyne stressed, glaring at Gaine and refusing to back down from him.

In the same manner, Gaine remained stone-faced as he looked her up and down, analyzing the situation as well as her part in it.

"You're Undyne, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?" She bit back, acid in her voice, "Who the Hell are you?"

"My name is Aldrin Gaine." The Cat monster introduced with a slight tilt to his head, "I'm the chief assistant to Dr. Gaster. He told me to expect you."

"Good." Undyne pushed, "Tell me where he is. Tell me where Corbel is!"

"Who are you guys?" Maltez groaned, "What the Hell is your problem!?"

"It's alright, Maltez." Gaine answered, keeping his demeanor even, "These are Corbel's friends."

"We got a call from his mom telling us to come as soon as we could." Metta explained. "She said there was an accident."

"Yes." Gaine acknowledged with a nod. He turned a moment later in the direction of the back wall where the elevator was located. "All of you, follow me please. Baelin. You come too."

"Okay." She answered, giving a look to Maltez before crossing to join Gaine. They would need both of their ID cards in order to access the third floor where the examination rooms were and where Corbel was being held.

The ride down was almost actually quiet with the exception of the sounds of Undyne's almost constant annoyed mutters.

From near the back of the elevator, Metta broke that silence with a slightly overdrawn "Sooo." It was sure to bring the attention directly toward him. "Your name was Aldrin, right?"

"It is Aldrin. But I'd prefer it if you called me Gaine."

"Of course." And anyone who knew Metta (and some who didn't) knew that the tone he was using was one he reserved for situations where he was being extra flirtatious . . . Or when he was trying to get information out of someone. "You see, we haven't had very much information at all to go on and we've been worried sick over our dear friend. Is there any way you can tell us exactly what happened to him?"

"Well, it isn't really my place to say." Gaine finally answered when they were on their way again, "That information should come from the Doctor or Mrs. Gaster."

"We know what happened to him." Undyne growled, "A fucking mountain fell on him! What we don't know is how? What caused it? Why was he there in the first place?"

"Well, that part is easy." Gaine indulged, "We were all assigned sectors so we could monitor the output of the CORE's energy. Corbel and Serif were assigned to the-"

"Sans . . ." Undyne seethed, "And where was he when all of this was going down?"

"The two were assigned together. He was with Corbel when the cave-in occurred."

"Yet, from the sound of it, he was not injured in the accident."

"That's because Corbel pushed him out of the way at the last second." Baelin interjected, "He saved him."

Again, Undyne shook her head with a scoff, "Of course he did. And where is Sans now? What has he been doing since he clearly still does have his life?"

"Oh . . ." Baelin answered with a low saddened tone. "Well he's-"

"That's enough, Baelin." Gaine instructed. "Again, those are details we have no business divulging. Let Serif explain himself."

"Y- yeah. You're right."

"Still, I take it you're not too fond of him?" Gaine pointed out, taking note of the bitterness in Undyne's voice.

"He deserves it." Was her only terse reply.

"Hm? Is that so? Well, I won't pry, but I must admit I'm curious as to why you'd think so. Maybe we could talk later."

The door chimed announcing their arrival down to the lower level of the lab. Gaine ushered the guests out before exiting the elevator himself with Baelin. He then took the lead, guiding the group forward while Baelin followed at the rear.

All conversation seemed to die as they traversed the halls and only the sound of their own footfalls could be heard until they made it to a section near the far west area. Instantly, the mood seemed to shift and become extremely tense.

"Here we are." Gaine announced, "This is where we'll leave you. Dr. And Mrs. Gaster are on the other side of this door with Corbel. Now . . . Before you go in, I should warn you-"

"Just let us in." Undyne muttered, trying not to take more of her frustration out on him.

"the accident was bad. and our friend is in critical condition." Napstablook leveled, "we're already expecting the worst."

Gaine hesitated, looking each of the three in the eye. In the end, it was Undyne's intensity that convinced him.

"Alright." He finally conceded, stepping aside. "I hope you're prepared."

They knocked on the door to gain the attention of those inside. Within a few moments, there was an answer.

Doctor Gaster stood in the doorway, looking down over them.

"Good morning, you three." He greeted in a low distracted voice. He sounded stressed and exhausted and the others could tell he was working far beyond his limits. "You got the message."

"We did." Metta answered with a slight nod, "Or rather, Undyne did and she gathered Blooky and me. We came straight away and your wonderful staff escorted us here."

"I see." Gaster acknowledged, looking to Gaine and Baelin as they stood off to the side. "Thank you both . . . How are your projects coming along?"

"Smoothly," Gaine answered for them. "We will be continuing the unfinished projects from yesterday and compiling progress reports from the ongoing assignments. When you're ready for them, we'll have the reports waiting for you."

"Good." Gaster answered, though it didn't sound much like he was paying any attention to what was being said, more than responding to the sounds. He was only going through the motions.

"Of course," Baelin added, "That is for us to think about. Right now, you're needed here. Stay with your family and let us handle the tasks in the lab. Please."

Gaster seemed to wake slightly at that.

"Right." He answered, "Thank you, Baelin. Gaine, I'll trust you to see over things in my absence."

"Of course." Gaine answered with a slight bow, "Understood."

From there, Gaine and Baelin took their leave, turning on their heels and walking back down the hallways to get back to work.

"Alright, Doctor. Where is he?"

Gaster looked again to the three before he turned his eyes in toward the room.

"In here," He answered, "But I must ask you to remember your volume. Corbel and Nyala are both resting at the moment. This ordeal has been very difficult for both of them."

He stepped out of the entranceway after that, letting the others inside for their first real look at what was going on.

Each of them was stricken by the full effect of the scene and the condition of their friend in the hospital bed. On the far side of the room, a small cot had been set up where Mrs. Gaster had taken up residence and a thin blanket was drawn up around her.

Right away, the Blooks were drawn into the room and quickly made their way to Corbel's bedside. Metta began speaking quietly to the unconscious form, while Napstablook nodded along, adding in their two cents every so often.

Undyne, however, remained frozen at the threshold, unable to cross, Her clenched hands tightened at her side. Her frame began to tremble as something within her seized. Despite herself, her eyes began to burn and her throat tightened up as if her gills were being forcibly closed.

"Where is he?" She fumed. Her question was nearly inaudible under the layers of fury. The only person who only partially heard the question was Doctor Gaster who remained at the door with her.

"I'm sorry?" He replied, asking for reiteration.

"The little bastard who did this. The one who let this happen. Where is he?"

"Undyne," Gaster responded. He had to hold himself back, reminding himself that he was still the head of the establishment and his own agenda shouldn't come before the protocols he'd set in place himself. "Believe me, I understand your frustration, but I can't just-"

"Nevermind, I'll find him myself!"

Undyne rushed back down the hall, very nearly back to the jogging pace she'd maintained on the way to the lab.

Gaster took a step forward, and he almost called out to Undyne to stop her. But partially because he'd been unable to catch her . . . And partially because he'd been unwilling to catch her, Undyne got away from him.

She powered through the halls, searching everywhere she could for the other Skeleton, listening carefully through the doors of each room she passed. How far away could he possibly be? Well, no matter, she'd hunt him down one way or another. In her mind, Sans was the one solely responsible for what happened to him. Sans was supposed to be Corbel's partner! Where was he when he was needed!? Why was Corbel the one protecting Sans!? How had this gotten so backward!?

She heard something. A low voice speaking in a withered drawl and at the sound, Undyne immediately went tense again.

"Alright, Kiddo. Just be yourself and show them what a great kid you are and you'll be fine. I promise I'll be back to check up on you before you head out, okay? Haha, okay then. See ya around, kid."

Undyne watched, in frozen shock as he left the room and closed the door. He was . . . Laughing!? How the Hell could he be laughing at the time like this!? And just who the Hell was he talking to!?

She stormed her way toward him, closing the distance in a matter of seconds.

There was a focused grunt and a sharp snap paired with the clamor of collapse. Undyne stood over Sans, with a deep glare as she shook out her fist.

"I asked you to do one thing!" She snapped, unable to hold back. "One! Do you remember what that was!? Or was two days too long for you!? Did you forget that quickly!?"

From his fallen position, Sans looked upward at Undyne. The force from the unexpected sock to the face knocked him to the ground from his already unstable legs.

"Well, answer me! What the actual fuck happened!?"

"Undyne . . ." Was all he was able to muster.

"You were supposed to look after him! You were supposed to protect him! How could you fuck that up SO royally!? How could you LET that happen to him!?"

Sans slowly pulled himself to his feet, but contrary to what Undyne was expecting, he didn't bite back at her. He didn't contest her words. He didn't even bring attention to the fact that she'd just punched him square in the face. It was like he was empty of all emotion and all spirit. Like he was merely a literal living punching bag.

"Well!?" She demanded. "Aren't you gonna answer for yourself!? Aren't you gonna fight back?"

Sans kept his eyes lowered and didn't even dare to look up at Undyne. He shook his head. So, it begins.

"There's nothing I can say that'll change what happened. I've gone over everything over and over in my head, thinking about what I could've done differently. How this could've played out. And . . ."

Undyne growled, letting the sound rip from her anger and exit through her mouth until it became a feral cry.

She grabbed at Sans' collar and held him in place. Her fist was drawn back and the piercing intensity of her glare stabbed repeatedly into his every defense.

Still, Sans barely reacted. He flinched slightly, but he didn't resist.

"What the Hell's wrong with you!?" Undyne challenged. "Fight back! C'mon! FIGHT ME!"

Sans did look up at Undyne in response to her challenge, but he did not make a move to retaliate.

Instead, she released Sans collar and gave him a harsh shove.

"Pathetic." She muttered, "You should at least try to defend yourself. You spineless bastard! I can't even fight you like this!"

"There's no point." Sans answered dully, "You're right. Corbel's in this situation right now because of me. No matter how you slice it, that's what it boils down to. And I'm prepared to take whatever I've got coming to me."

Undyne stared down at him, carefully taking in what he was saying. Her hands continued to tremble. Damn him! This would be SO much more satisfying if she could just beat the crap out of him like she'd wanted . . . but if he wasn't going to even defend himself, then, there was just no way she could do that . . . Damn code of honor . . .

"Then . . . At least tell me why! Tell me, what happened!"

Sans retold the story, explaining to Undyne what they were assigned to do and where they were. He told her about the Rabbit children and what they saw in the Ruins. He told her about the crying child and how, even though Corbel was hesitant about helping, he did anyway.

"He stayed around in order to help you. Even though he knew it was a bad idea, he wanted to make sure you got out safely." Undyne released a long breath, still trying to keep her temper in check. "God . . . That boy . . ."

Sans nodded and continued his story. He explained about the cave and how he and the girl were nearly crushed when it all started falling in around them. And if it weren't for Corbel, they would have been. If he hadn't acted when he had, they wouldn't have made it out alive.

When Sans was finished with the story, he stopped to find Undyne glaring between him and the door he'd just walked out of.

"Is it in there?" She said, solidly, "The human girl?"

Sans nodded, "She'll be going to the Capital later today. The King and Queen are gonna decide what to do with her."

Undyne scoffed, keeping her jaw clenched so she spoke through her teeth.

"I really hope it was worth it." She hissed. "I really hope you're enjoying playing the hero. Because if Corbel dies because of this . . . If he gave his life for you, you're dead, got it?"

Sans went stone cold. Right away, he knew it wasn't an exaggeration or an idle threat. She was being serious.

"I'm not kidding." She reiterated, "I'm going to hunt you down and end you myself. You'd better hope Corbel loves you enough to live, because, if not . . . You're fucking dead!"

Sans' expression remained stoic. In all honesty, it wasn't far off from what he had been expecting.

"I can't believe he actually did it." She sighed, turning to look back down toward the other end of the hall, "He wasted his fucking life on you! His entire world revolved around you and this is what happens . . . He fuckin' killed himself chasing after you, protecting you, standing up for you, fighting for you . . . even though you never once gave him any hope that you even noticed. And I . . . I just . . . I'll never understand him. If it were me, I would've dropped you a long time ago. You'd already be long gone . . . But I guess Corbel isn't like that. I don't know what you did to him, but you really messed him up . . . I really really hope you understand the gravity of what you've done. I hope you can see now just what kind of person you screwed over."

She didn't wait for a response. She turned completely and left back toward the room where the Gasters and the Blooks were.

Sans stood, watching after her as her words weighed even more heavily on him. Whatever life he may have had left in him was drained out through the bottoms of his feet.

Undyne, Metta, and Napstablook all stayed at Corbel's side for the majority of the day. They spoke to him and kind of awkwardly wished him a happy belated birthday. They promised that when he got better (Metta made sure everyone only spoke about the situation in the positive) they would have more to celebrate than just his birthday. Of course, they'd go at whatever pace was comfortable for him. But he did still owe them a night out after canceling their plans. The friends all fully intended to make Corbel make that up to them. There's no way they'd let him off the hook so easily.

It did the Gaster parents well to hear his friends speak so casually, as if he wasn't still fighting so hard just to keep breathing. No, they weren't making light of the situation at all, nor were they ignoring the severity of it, but they also didn't think of it as a hopeless situation. They maintained hope that Corbel would pull through.

Even when she came back from whatever she'd been, Undyne encouraged Corbel, in her own gruff manner, to keep fighting and to pull through this no matter what. Though she tried to hide it through her bright smiles and her infectious energy, there were certain telltale signs that told the others that she had been deeply shaken by the situation. As she sat before Corbel, Napstablook noted that Undyne's hands were so tightly fisted in her uniform pants that she may tear holes in them. She was slightly trembling in her speech and every once in a while, her throat would choke up. She would quickly raise her hand to her eyes during those moments and the others pretended not to see.

When she woke up and saw them and heard what was going on, Nyala thanked the group of them for everything- for coming, for keeping Corbel company, for always being around when he needed them, for being such a positive influence on his life. She made it known that she was grateful for every moment they'd had. Corbel could not have found a better group of friends. That really nearly got the waterworks going.

After a long while, as the day wore on, the friends begrudgingly had to take their leave. They each had chores and other tasks that needed their attention. Now that he was officially awake. Metta sighed and groaned about going to help Napstablook at the Snail Farm. After all, they still needed to fill the Queen's order before the end of the day. And Undyne hadn't reported in to the Guard all day. Surely, there would be some kind of repercussions. As long as she explained the situation, however, it should be okay . . .

When the three departed, again, it was Gaine who escorted them out. It was on their way out that Undyne took quick note of the open room where Sans sat on the examination table with his head in his hands. It was the same room where the human child had been . . . but she was gone . . . perhaps she'd already been escorted from the facility. Vaguely, she wondered what Asgore and the Queen would do with her. He hoped they would make her pay for what happened. It was a longshot, but still, some retribution would be nice.

As they passed, there was absolutely no acknowledgment from Sans and if he noticed them walking by, he didn't show it. He didn't raise his head and he didn't look in their direction. He did look completely drained, however, as if every ounce of life had been taken from him. Maybe Undyne's words really had gotten to him. Good.

Once Corbel's friends left, the Gasters remained in the room together. They had some things to discuss as well. There was still something that needed to be done . . . and they both still needed to prepare for it. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

They had to bring Corbel out of his sleep.

As much as they hated to admit it . . . they would have to run tests on him- experiment on him- push him to his limits in order to gauge where to begin actually treating him.

Gaster would be the one running the tests, of course, taking down the important information as he worked. He would summon extra magic hands in order to complete that task.

Meanwhile, Nyala would be monitoring Corbel's condition. She would be watching his HP and doing her best to numb whatever pain he might be in. There wouldn't be much she could do, but at the very least, she hoped that there was a way to ease him.

With deep breaths and a slow countdown, they prepared to purposefully cause their son the most pain he'd ever endured.

He opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity and instead of the typical black nothing to which he'd been steadily growing accustomed, he was greeted by a stark, sharp white light. He was enveloped in the white and he had to squint to see anything.

What happened to the darkness? What happened to that other space he'd been in?

What happened to Sans?

He looked down at his hand- the few fingers he had, and noticed, through the encroaching headache, that the warmth that had been there before, that glow that helped to keep him calm in that darkness, was gone.

So, what did that mean? Was he actually alone here? Was this . . . ? Was he dead?

Wait, headache . . . ? So, not dead . . . but then . . . where . . . ?

Was this all just a really bad very lucid dream? One where he knew he was dreaming? Or . . . even if he didn't really know he was dreaming, he felt like he was in a dream.

Damn it! If only there was something solid to grasp. Something to let him know for certain what was going on!

Still squinting, he fought to make heads or tales of the area around him. But as far as he could see, there was nothing. No ground, no ceiling, no nothing. Just the white as if someone had only come in and changed the paint on the nonexistent walls.

But he was definitely grounded somewhere. A ground that also didn't exist. He wasn't floating, but sitting with his knees drawn up. He was the only thing around . . . the only thing familiar was himself. So he's who he clung onto.

"Well, now what?" He groaned to himself.

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, but there had to be some way out, right? And he couldn't get there by staying still, could he?

He lifted his head and opened his eyes completely. Right away, he felt a bit out of sorts, like even though he hadn't been doing much of anything, he still felt drained, He had the motivation to move, but not the energy. Why did he still feel so groggy? He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to get up and walk to find an exit to this place, but every time he even thought about getting up, he felt another wave of fatigue wash over him and keep him in place.

Why . . . ? It was almost as if someone or something didn't want him to get out of here. Someone or something was keeping him in place . . . but what . . . ? Who? Why?"

What better way to get back at whatever it was than to move? And do exactly what they didn't want him to do?

With more effort than he was expecting, he was able to uncurl himself and attempt to pull himself to his feet.

Only to stumble forward and fall directly onto his knees.

What the Hell? He couldn't feel his feet . . . Or rather, he couldn't feel one of his feet. The other was tingling like crazy as if magic had only just started flowing through it after a long time. There was a prickling pain that went with it. He wouldn't be able to walk on it like this.

Not only that, but he was feeling short of breath. Why was it so hard just to breathe normally? It's not like it was a challenge or anything. But still, he was struggling on his hands . . . hand . . . ?

What the . . . !? Where did his other hand go!?

A fuzzy image played through his mind then. And he was reminded of the scene he witnessed in those weird arches. The younger version of him with his parents as he was turning to dust in their arms.

Is that what was going on here!? Was he turning to dust piece by piece!?

No! He couldn't die yet! He had to get out of here! He had to know what happened to his Sans! The human? Were they okay? Did they make it out of the Ruins!? He had to know!

But he couldn't get anywhere like this! Even when he tried to pull himself forward, he couldn't find the strength in his limbs to carry him. Those numbing sensations shooting through his whole body and the sharp tingling paralyzing him. He fell completely to the "ground" unable to move.

"D-Damn it . . ."

"corbel!" Called a voice from somewhere that felt far away. That voice carried clearly and reverberated around even though there were no walls. It floated around him and came to him as if in support. It lifted him and he was able to raise his head again.

"Blook . . . ?" What were they doing here? Where had they come from all of a sudden!? Corbel looked around the space again to see if he could spot them.

"Corbel-dear!"

"Metta!"

Again, he felt just a little bit lighter and he was able to use the hand he still had to pull himself up on an elbow.

The two Blooks continued to speak and with their words, Corbel was reminded more and more of those around who were genuinely there to guide him, to help him . . . and yes . . . to support him.

He had to get back to them. His friends were waiting for him . . .

He had to move forward, for their sake as well.

"Alright. Listen here, Puff."

"Undyne!"

"You can't let something like this get the better of you! You've still got so much going for you, you know!? You can't just turn your back on all of that! Besides, you ditched us once when we were gonna do a birthday thing. You didn't think we'd just let that slide, did you? Not a chance! You owe us and we're not gonna let you get away with not making it up to us first!"

"Red . . ." Corbel said slowly. He tried again to shift, using both of his arms to prop himself up. Immediately, he knew she was right. He had to get back to them! But . . .

"Tell me how! How do I get back if I'm stuck in here!?"

But Undyne didn't answer. Not in the way Corbel was hoping. Something happened to her voice in that moment and she seemed to choke.

"This . . . can't be the end, you hear me!? You have to kick this thing! You're stronger than this! I know you are! C'mon, prove me right! I dare you!"

Corbel froze in his attempt to pull himself back up to a crawling position. What was that just now? What was that sound coming from Undyne? Why did she sound so helpless? That wasn't like her at all! It sounded off and it was a terrible fit on her. That wasn't the Undyne he knew. Just what was making her sound like that?

And just like that, he had another reason to continue. He had to get out of this place, for Undyne and for his friends.

He continued toward wherever he felt "forward" was. Unable to use his hand or his foot, he had to army crawl in order to go anywhere and even then, it was difficult. His headache was steadily getting worse and his breathing was still more labored than usual.

In spite of those things, he still continued forward. Undyne was right again. He couldn't let this place beat him. He had to get out. No matter what. Besides, Undyne issued him a dare. He had to follow through.

Nyala held tightly onto Corbel's hand as the countdown commenced. She was nervous and anxious. She knew what was coming and to think that she would be knowingly inflicting it to her son, who had suffered through it enough already, was torture on her mind . . .

Three . . .

She held tightly to his hand.

Two . . .

She drew in a breath, holding it in her chest as she let her free hand fill with healing magic.

One . . .

Gaster lifted his hand from Corbel's skull and lowered it to his side. Already, they could feel the energy within him moving faster and more aggressively than before.

A low sound emerged as Corbel shifted. Instantly, his face contorted and his breathing became labored. It was shallow and raspy as he attempted to move. The grip around his mother's hand became like iron.

He panted as best he could in order to breathe, but with little result. It was so difficult.

It hurt . . . everything was on fire. Every movement was a reminder of another broken, fractured, or shattered section. His entire body was shattered and it all overwhelmed him, attacking every sense at once in an unrelenting torrent.

The low moans raised in volume and intensity and Corbel couldn't hold back. Nothing else registered to him but how much every inch of him burned. He cried out, his entire frame going tense. His eyes remained tightly closed as his body writhed. His breath shuddered and when he tried to draw in a breath, it was as if he were trying to draw it through a clamped straw. Still, he cried, his voice resonating in sharp painful wails and crashing against his parents' forms with just as much force.

"Corbel, baby." Nyala tried as her own sympathetic tears formed and her own throat closed up on her. "Corbel. It's me. It's Mom. I'm right here, baby. It's okay. It's okay . . . I'm right here."

Corbel cried out once again as he attempted to move his arm upward toward his chest. Another piercing pain pulsed throughout his body and seemed to restrict his movements to nothing more than a slight twitching. Other sounds and other sensations didn't register to him at all. Nyala's words and her comforting presence, her gentle touch. None of it got through.

He began to cough, the sharp contracting movements straining him even more to the point that it was affecting his already broken ribs. Nyala watched as new fractures began to split from the breaks he sustained before. He was still breaking.

"Hold on, Honey!" She gasped, springing into action. Immediately, she touched the healing magic she had gathered in her hand lightly to his chest. From the large breaks and spider fractures to the small hairline fractures, the magic spread, filling the cracks with a soothing light. It wasn't enough to mend the bone . . . no magic would be enough to mend this, but she did hope that it would at least dull some of that pain. She fought the urge to embrace him, knowing that holding him like that would only hurt him more.

Corbel clenched his jaw, suppressing the cries and his shuddering sobs as best he could. Still, he could do nothing more than scream as his attempt failed.

"Wingdings!" Nyala cried out now, the whole ordeal becoming too much for her, "We have to put him back to sleep! He's hurting so much and my healing magic isn't doing anything for him! His ribs are still breaking, and if he stays any longer like this, his whole rib cage could collapse."

Gaster listened and observed, his own hands clenching and unfurling as he tried to focus through the screams of his son and the cries of his wife.

"We can't put him back to sleep." He answered through his own clenched teeth. "That isn't going to help him."

Corbel continued to sob through his screams, tears soaking the bandage over his face.

"And how is keeping him like this helping!?"

Corbel's arm tried to move once again toward his chest. He gasped as even more pain shot through him. He cried out yet again unable to do anything in his current state.

"His ribs are still breaking . . ." Gaster said, trying to refocus his mind beyond the suffering of his family and toward a solution. "That's the main source of his pain. If we could stop that breakage and prevent it from spreading . . . If we can solidify his chest once again, we can focus on mending his other breaks . . . it seems grafts really are the only way to do that after all . . . Nyala! How is his HP?"

It was a poor distraction, but it did momentarily rip Nyala's attention from Corbel's cries. When she looked up toward the monitor, she could see the pulsing of magic through Corbel's body and how there seemed to be a high concentration of seepage near the ribs, specifically around the ribs and clavicle that had been broken all the way through. Was it that specific break that was doing all of this to her baby!? How could she put a stop to that pain?

"Nyala!" Gaster called again.

Nyala looked back toward the monitor, doing her best to ignore all of the other readings and just focus on the yellow HP bar near the bottom of the display. In the moments she watched, she'd been expecting to see that bar deplete drastically. After all, that's what happened every other time he was awake.

What she saw this time, however, was something that could only be described as miraculous . . . or maybe just odd.

"He's still retaining his HP." Nyala reported, "It isn't draining nearly as quickly as before . . . it's still stable . . . even though there's a significant break here in his chest where HP should be draining quickly. It isn't . . . Wingdings, what does that mean?"

Gaster hesitated, trying to make heads or tails of the new info . . . Though he didn't want to question such good news, why was it that Corbel wasn't losing HP like he was before? Nothing else had changed except for that strange occurrence, but why was that . . . ? Could it be that Corbel was recovering on his own . . . ? But if so, how had that recovery been jump-started? When had this turn occurred?

If memory served him correctly, Nyala first brought attention to it after coming back from the time they'd left Sans and Corbel. So, sometime during that exchange, something happened that caused Corbel to be able to retain his HP when he hadn't been able to before.

Perhaps he should follow up with Sans as well . . . Or he could just check the recorded footage of the room during the time they'd been away.

Either way, they'd gathered all the information they could from Corbel right now. He knew what needed to be done as well as where to begin his work.

Gaster laid his hand gently back over Corbel's skull.

"I'm sorry, son." He said to him through the cries, "Rest for now."

Right away, Corbel's pained cries began to die and within moments, he was quietly moaning and whimpering. But even so, he seemed to be fighting sleep. His eye opened for a moment and he seemed to be trying to focus through it.

"Corbel?" Nyala called when she saw him, "Sweetie?"

Corbel turned his attention toward the voice, but even so, his eyes were dull and devoid of light or life. He couldn't see her.

"M-Mom . . . ?" He groaned, his voice just as cracked and as broken as his frame.

"Corbel! Honey, it's okay. Sleep. I'll be here."

"M-Mom . . ." He repeated, "I-I don't . . . want to . . . go . . ."

His voice trailed off and he silenced directly afterward. He was sleeping again.

Nyala choked, covering her mouth as she trembled, succumbing to her own tears.

"My poor boy." She shuddered, her head lowering to lay soft kisses to Corbel's skull. "This is almost over, sweetie. Dad and I are working hard to end this, okay?"

It continued like that for another few days. During the time, Gaster kept working on alternative ways to help secure and strengthen Corbel's broken bones until he could work in the bone grafts. He made molds and cast replicas. He worked with several different materials, testing them for pliability, and durability. He needed something strong that could match Corbel's own bone without being heavy or cumbersome to him. Something he could use as easily as his cuffs . . . Though his cuffs, at this point, seemed a little outdated. Surely there was something more permanent he could use. Something that he could attach as directly as the bone grafts, something that would complete him.

Complete him . . .

He kept looking to the monitors and spotting several spots where Corbel's bone had been broken . . . Checking on him daily revealed something . . . very interesting. When he directed his attention away from the larger breaks and more on the smaller fractures, he noticed some of those were . . . beginning to heal! The fractures were closing and becoming smaller!

"What in the world!?" He muttered to himself when he made the discovery.

As far as he knew, bones had never been able to regenerate. According to the history and physiology of Skeleton monsters . . . It was impossible! And until now, Corbel exhibited this same truth. So, what in the world was going on with Corbel now?

It was yet another phenomenon he'd have to look into. But still, perhaps it was one that would be able to help him.

But for those larger breaks . . . He needed something to bridge the gaps. Something to conduct the magic synapses throughout Corbel's body . . . like a human's peripheral nervous system or wirework or a circuit board in a machine. All while working with something pliable for his fingers and feet . . . And something strong and durable for his long bones. And something structurally sound for his ribs.

He put several different materials through rigorous and, in some cases, excessive testing and he was finally able to find a material that was lightweight yet strong. It passed all of his tests and could still channel magic the way he wanted with the use of conductive threads. The hard part would be grafting it to Corbel without damaging him further. He would have to build the material into him, pour uncured raw materials into the pores of his bones, thread the string-like wiring into him and then force him into activating his magic in order to harden and solidify the material and jumpstart the connectivity through the threads. It was a long, arduous, painful process that left everyone wiped and doubting the morality of the experiments . . . but if it was for Corbel . . . then . . .

They carried on like that for nearly a week after Gaster decided on the materials. They barely took the time to sleep or even to eat. Just enough to get by and work without their quality suffering.

During that time, there wasn't a moment that Nyala left her son's side. She stayed beside him through every moment. She was at his side when they had to wake him, and at night, she slept in the cot next to him, and what little she ate, she did so with him. She tried to remain as positive as possible while she spoke with him. She explained to him what they were trying to do and assured him that when it was all over, he'd feel better than ever . . . despite the agony he'd been in up to that point.

Meanwhile, Gaster was busy shaping the grafts, forming new ribs, new vertebrae, new sections of bone that had eroded away. A new hand, a new foot, new fingers. He made sure the wiring was sound and tested each prosthetic, sending his own magic into them and seeing just how well they would move. They were even more fluid and moved with more articulation than Corbel's previous cuffs. The grip strength was better as well. And since they would be essentially a part of him, they would never run out of power. He would never have to switch them out or charge them. They really would be an improvement from what he had before. He only regretted that it took something like this to spur such a change.

Finally, the day came when they were to run the ultimate test. Corbel's new ribs were complete and they had just been successfully tested and grafted to his body. The only thing that remained was to see how he reacted to them. While they were being attached, the doctor had been running mini-tests. Aside from the initial "wake Corbel up and force him into using magic to solidify the grafts," tactic, they'd also been gently waking him to see how his body was reacting to the new additions. They found that each time they did wake him, he was in less and less pain, which was a relief for both parents. Now that the ribcage was more structurally sound, he didn't have to compensate so much and he could finally relax. It meant that the whole experiment was going well.

Once again, the family gathered around Corbel. Nyala sat at the foot of his bed, ready with healing magic in one hand and Corbel's hand in the other. Gaster stood near his head with a hand to his skull.

Once again, the countdown commenced.

Three . . .

Two . . .

One . . .

With a long breath, Gaster coaxed Corbel from his sedated state.

However, he did not wake.

Normally, whenever they would try to wake him from here, there was a moment or two where he would shift before he opened his eye.

He would be awake for a few moments afterward before the pain began to take over. Now that his ribs, we more secure, however, the pain that radiated came from other locations like his legs or his arm, and it wasn't as bad as it was when it had been his chest.

But he'd always woken up quickly before.

This time . . . He didn't . . . This time he remained unconscious and didn't stir.

"Corbel . . . ?" Nyala hummed, trying to get his attention, "Honey, can you hear me?"

Gaster frowned, looking over his son. Perhaps he hadn't quite woken him enough? No, he made sure to match the frequency perfectly. He should be awake . . .

Or perhaps he was stuck in sleep . . . Had he slipped into a coma since the last test . . . ? Had he been overwhelmed by all of the experimentation and his body didn't know how to cope?

Nyala gently shook his hand, leaning in to be closer.

"Sweetie. I need you to answer me. Please wake up."

Still, there was no response.

"He must be exhausted." Gaster tried, "He's been through quite a bit. Perhaps we should let him rest for now. He will wake up when his body will allow."

"O-of course." Nyala sighed, "It's just- he normally wakes up right away, doesn't he? Why isn't he waking up this time?"

"Perhaps, it's a good sign. Perhaps, he is finally comfortable enough to rest peacefully on his own."

Nyala looked down over Corbel and nodded slowly.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe he's just-"

A familiar low grown sounded then and the figure made a small shift. The hand in Nyala's tightened slightly and readjusted to fit her.

"Corbel . . . ?" She tried again, "Can you hear me, baby?"

"Mom . . .?" Said the soft voice before her.

"Oh, thank goodness." She answered, "How are you feeling? Better, I hope?"

Corbel hummed and opened the one eye that wasn't patched. For a few moments, he looked around as if trying to gather his bearings. He squinted, trying to focus.

Finally, he turned his attention to the other two.

"Dad . . . ? Mom . . . ?"

"Yes! Yes, it's us! Honey, you have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice!" Nyala smiled in relief and a short laugh followed. "How are you?"

Corbel took his time answering, still looking around to figure out where he was. The lights were so bright. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to focus.

"Ugh . . . My head hurts . . ." He answered, squeezing his eye shut. "And I'm really dizzy."

"Dizzy, huh?" Gaster inquired, "Well considering what you've been through, it is to be expected . . . And I must say, I'm relieved. I expected it to be much worse."

"Why?" Corbel asked genuinely with a slight frown, "What happened?"

" . . . Corbel?" Nyala pushed slowly, hesitating after such a response. Did he really not remember anything that happened before this point? "Honey, what's the last thing you remember?"

Corbel kept his eyes closed as he tilted his head back as if he were trying to concentrate on the ceiling.

"I had a lot of really strange dreams . . . But before those . . . I was at school. I went home to change. Then, I went to the lab . . . Then . . . Rabbits? And then . . . Blue. A lot of Blue."

He thought on that for a moment, trying to concentrate on the color and everything it could've meant.

Suddenly, Corbel's eye shot wide open and he gasped deeply as something came to mind. His reflex was to shoot bolt- right in bed, but a combination of his mother's protests, his severe lack of energy and strength, as well as a sudden stabbing pain prevented him from doing that.

He hissed, groaning through that pain as he continued to try to prop himself up in bed. Of course, now that he was aware of it, he noticed that the pain was radiating from his legs, his hips, his foot . . . His empty wrist when he tried to use his hand.

His hand . . .

His hand was . . . Was gone! His entire hand! Just . . . GONE!

What the . . . !?

How . . . !?

He cried out in his shock. The pain becoming secondary. He scrambled, trying to get an idea of just what was going on.

"W-what!? What the Hell!?" He stammered. "What happened!? Where did . . . !?" He cried out a second time, his words failing him.

Instantly, Nyala was there to comfort her boy. She did what she could to keep him lying down and she held his hand firmly. She asked where he was hurting the most and what she could do to help.

Corbel didn't answer. His mind was reeling as he fought to make sense of what happened.

How was it that he didn't notice that he'd been so beaten up!? And why did it suddenly hit him now?

The whole thing came back to him in pieces. And with every piece that fell into place, the more his panic rose. He did remember . . . He remembered everything! He remembered the cave crashing in and he remembered the choice he had to make.

And if he was this beaten up after the cave-in . . . Then what about . . .?

"Where's Sans!?" He called out, still fighting against his mother and trying to pull himself up, "What happened to him!?"