AN: Happy (Day before) Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it!

I don't have a whole lot to say, so . . . Story Time!

Chapter 24

Mosaic

Once again, Sans was the first to wake the next morning. He hadn't slept well at all, his mind reeling to the point that his thoughts bled into his dreams, tainting them and turning them into nightmares.

It took him a few moments to wake up and realize that he was, in fact, no longer in that dream.

His arms tightened around something and its solidity forced him to focus.

Corbel continued to sleep, breathing softly, and sometimes letting out the smallest of hums as if trying to voice a thought in his dreams.

He really was a heavy sleeper, and he always seemed to have trouble fully waking up when he finally did come out of it. Sans had been able to pick up that info during their more recent sleepovers. Heh, it was one of the reasons he'd chosen "Daydreamer" to be his nickname. And the further back he thought, the more clear it became that that had always been the case. When he had to be at the lab in the mornings, Corbel always needed time to really wake up before he did anything and would often need a pick-me-up of some sort, usually either juice or tea.

Even on the first day after they met, Corbel was drowsy for quite a while after he woke up. He shuffled his way to the table and had an entire mumbled conversation with his mother before he even realized there was someone else sitting with him.

Sans considered waking him with the intent of taking him out for one of his regular pick-me-up drinks, but almost immediately reconsidered. After the complete disaster of the night before, Corbel deserved as much sleep as he could stand.

And because it was Saturday, Sans could afford to give it to him.

. . . Even if it were a weekday, Sans would have let him stay as long as he wanted. After all, it was his fault Corbel was in this situation to begin with. Once again, everything around Corbel came crashing down because of something he did.

It really was a familiar song and dance routine wasn't it? Man, why the Hell did Corbel still choose to hang around him? If things kept happening like this, then eventually the two of them were going to . . .

Sans released a long sigh and let go of the other sleeping Skeleton as he shifted in bed, preparing to leave. Corbel shifted as well, adjusting to the new space around him, but in true Corbel fashion, he didn't wake. He hummed again, but didn't protest.

"Sleep well, Daydreamer." Sans whispered.

He made the silent transition from lying down to sitting on the side of the bed with his hands on his knees.

'Such an accomplishment . . .' His internal voice chided bitterly.

He took a look around his tiny apartment, wondering just what was he supposed to do. Even if Corbel did wake right now, he would have nothing to offer him. He had very little food in the house, absolutely no entertainment and only one other place to sit. So Sans stood and crossed in order to sit there instead.

'And such an exciting life you lead. Work and sleep. Get food out. Get drunk every once in a while. Really, if not for the lives you ruin, you'd be a truly boring excuse of an existence.'

Sans shook his head, cradling his skull in his hands as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

He hated feeling like this all the time. Like no matter what he did, it would only fall apart. Like he was a walking disaster to whomever had the misfortune to come in contact.

His eyes landed back on the Skeleton sleeping in a brief peace in his bed.

Three times. It happened three times now.

Corbel deserved better . . . Corbel deserved so much better. Someone who wouldn't leave him broken like this time and again.

Again, Gaster's voice flooded his mind.

"That person is not you. That person will never be you."

Again, Sans sighed. The doc really did see right through him, didn't he?

Yes, he wanted Corbel to be happy. Of course he wanted Corbel to be happy! Corbel deserved to be happy, damn it!

"You can never make him happy."

So, Undyne could see it too . . .

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe he really was just dating Corbel in an attempt to appease him. Was all of this just him just trying to make things up to him again? Was that all any of this ever was?

Sans stood again, needing to move. About the most he could do was pace the apartment, but Corbel was still sleeping . . . He couldn't risk waking him with excessive movement.

So he shoved his hands in his pockets in his frustration. Immediately, his fingers found something hidden in his pocket, something he'd forgotten was there. A folded piece of paper he found while he and Mrs. Gaster had been going through Corbel's old room. He'd lifted it when no one was looking, stolen it with the intent to read when he was alone.

After all, it did have his name on it.

With another look toward Corbel, Sans opened the letter.

It was dated about a year after Sans rejected him. So that meant that Corbel would have been about a junior or senior in high school. It didn't seem like it at the time, but they were both still so young. It was such a stressful time already and he was sure that added element made things even worse for Corbel.

He continued reading now that it was easier to imagine just what kind of mind frame Corbel was in.

"I thought I was over this, but I guess that's not the case. Heh, after all, you already said no, didn't you? I thought I could handle that and step away. I know I need to respect your decision . . . but it still hurts so much! I know you said you were already taken and I know I would be an absolutely terrible person if I still pursued after that . . . So, I know I have no choice."

As Sans read, it was impossible not to imagine a slightly younger Corbel sitting at the desk in his old room scribbling this out. Or perhaps he was at school, unable to concentrate on his studies. Writing out his thoughts in order to get a grip on them.

"But here's the thing.

I still want you in my life even if it is at a distance. I can't be with you, but if I can at least stay beside you, maybe that'll be enough. Maybe that's enough. Maybe I can deal with that. Maybe I can stop myself from feeling this and force it into something else.

You're still my friend, Sans and I think I can be happy with that."

Corbel skipped several lines in a way that seemed like a visible representation of a large sigh. When he continued writing, the handwriting even seemed a little different. Maybe his hand started shaking or he'd switched writing locations.

"But what if this whole thing becomes too much? What if I can't handle it? I don't want to lose you, Sans! That, I would never be able to handle!

I guess, I'll need to figure that out though, huh? Because eventually, you're gonna go back to . . . Wherever it was you came from so you can be with her again and I . . .

Well, I hope I'm actually over you by then. When you leave . . . when you're gone, I wonder what will happen then.

I mean, I guess there's always the chance that by some miracle you decide that you want to stay. That would be . . . I can't think of a better word than "awesome"! A dream come true! If you do, maybe I could still . . . Maybe there's still a chance that . . ."

Again, Sans' mental image of Corbel sighed- another several lines on the paper skipped . . . and starting at the next section, there were parts of the lined paper that were blurred from splotches of water damage. Even time couldn't erase the evidence of Corbel's internal turmoil. He'd been crying, unable to hold back or prevent his tears from falling onto the paper.

Again, the handwriting changed. Corbel's usually perfect handwriting was scrawled and rushed looking. Sloppy and shaking terribly. It'd been happening progressively throughout the letter, but this was the point that it was at its worst. Corbel had completely given into his pain and let it show through in his writing.

"Fuck, listen to me. No. No! That's never gonna happen! I really should just give up, huh? Yeah, that's my only option.

You know, sometimes I wish I could go back, before any of this happened and just . . . undo everything. Maybe I could've played it better. And things never would've gotten awkward between us. Maybe I could find the point where I started falling for you and knock some sense into myself back then so this wouldn't have ever happened!

. . . But it did . . . And now we're here. And I can't even bring myself to look at you without everything falling apart inside me all over again.

I just . . . wish I could just stop feeling like this already! Why does this have to suck so bad!? Why can't I just get over you and make things go back to normal!? I fucking HATE this!"

Another few lines were skipped before Corbel continued writing. When he started up again, his handwriting had returned to something legible at least, but it was written so small- almost like he was trying to hide it in the paper.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time. Just forget you read any of this.

Or maybe I just won't give it to you . . .

Yeah, that seems safer."

Sans finished reading and lowered the paper, wishing he hadn't read it at all. He was never meant to . . . and even when he took it from Corbel's room, he knew it was a bad idea.

But, knowing this, seeing these feelings that Corbel had been carrying around with him for years since the rejection, crushed him. During this time of this letter, Corbel still came to the lab and worked with Sans every day with a smile on his face. To think that Corbel was shouldering those feelings and continuing to torture himself every time . . . And he would beat himself up like this if he had even the slightest thought about them having a shot together. It hurt Sans in a way that it wouldn't have if he'd found the letter at any other time. Even if he'd read it yesterday before everything blew up, it wouldn't have meant the same.

Last night wasn't just the third time Sans had broken Corbel. He'd been breaking him little by little every single day they remained friends.

And now, after granting Corbel's most far fetched dream, this is what happens.

He should've come straight home last night. He should've been there to catch Corbel when he fell. Corbel shouldn't have fallen at all . . . Sans should've been there to support him so he wouldn't fall . . .

Damn it . . .

If he really loved Corbel, he wouldn't have done what he did. He wouldn't have abandoned him. He wouldn't have put him through that.

Then, that turned the question . . . Was it really love?

If he really loved Corbel, he would've stuck to his guns. He would've stood up against Dr. Gaster and announced himself like Corbel did. He would've kept hold off his hand until the end and he wouldn't have shied away from the verbal assault. He wouldn't have let those words get to him.

Those words wouldn't have gotten to him at all if they weren't at least partially true . . . Right? The fact that they had, proved that Dr. Gaster was right, didn't it?

He looked again toward Corbel as he slept. He was so much more sure than Sans could ever be. He knew what he felt. He'd been dealing with it for years and he knew exactly what he was doing. When he stood up and fought for them against his father, he knew and even when he ran all the way here after Sans left, he knew.

Even if he was being nervous and he was stammering over his words, Corbel was always sure, confident in a way that Sans could only hope to emulate.

Corbel was ready to do what it took in order to make this relationship work. Could Sans really say he was ready to do the same?

A quick sound of successive beeping tore Sans' attention away from Corbel.

The sound was coming back from the couch.

The beeping sounded again.

Corbel groaned and shifted in his sleep. If Sans didn't hurry, it would wake him. He had to find the source of the beeping and make it stop.

He knew what it was before he could find where it was. His phone was running out of battery life and was nearly dead. He was reminded then that he hadn't had it the night before. He'd left it here all night . . .

Immediately, his heart sank. No wonder Corbel had been so worried! If, after everything that happened, he'd tried to call and didn't get a response . . . He probably thought something terrible happened! Or that he had been intentionally ignoring him all night. No wonder he'd been so upset when he saw Sans again.

He found the phone in the seat cushions, being eaten by the couch and he held a finger over the speaker, trying to mute the sounds to little avail.

Damn skeletal hands.

Immediately, Sans found the charger and cord near the head of his bed where he most often used it and plugged it in.

The phone vibrated slightly to let Sans know it was plugged in and the screen flashed revealing what he'd been dreading.

11 missed calls from CORBEL

5 new voice messages from CORBEL

Sans gripped his phone hard in his hand. Damn it all!

Corbel had been trying so hard to reach him and his phone had been here the whole time, completely useless.

If he'd only . . . If only he hadn't . . .

No, he couldn't think like that. What happened last night couldn't un-happen. He only had exactly what he created and now he had to find a way to move on from here.

"Sans . . . ?" Said a low soft voice from behind him.

He turned his attention over his shoulder, "Hey."

"What are you doing?" The younger of the two muttered.

"Nothing." Sans answered softly, Corbel still sounded so tired and listless. He didn't need to be awakened because of something like this, "Go back to sleep."

Corbel hummed in response and immediately closed his eyes again. He fell back to sleep a minute later.

Sans opened the phone to check the voice messages, turning the volume down so it wouldn't disturb Corbel anymore.

Corbel continued to sleep for pretty much the rest of the day, only waking up for a few minutes at a time. It seemed no matter what he did, his body wouldn't allow him to fully wake.

When Sans offered to take him out for food during one of his more alert moments, Corbel shook his head silently and sat up in bed. He sat there for a few minutes before leaning against the wall.

"Look, Daydreamer." Sans said, sitting beside him once again, "You need to eat something. It's starting to get late and you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. Your HP is gonna start suffering for it soon."

Corbel groaned again, his eyes closed and his head rested against the wall's smooth surface.

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You have to eat something. I don't have a lot, but I can get you some toast or somethin. Or . . . I don't have tea, but I can make you some coffee."

Corbel shook his head with another more protesting groan.

"Oh yeah. I forgot that you're really not a fan of coffee. Fine. Toast it is and I'll see if the milk is still good."

Corbel remained silent, but didn't protest. Maybe he was starting to come around.

Of course, when Sans returned with two slices of toast and a glass of water (the milk had gone bad two weeks ago), he found Corbel asleep once again.

Sans sighed heavily. He wasn't sure if this was Corbel's way of working through his frustrations and anger or if he was throwing a tantrum. As he took his seat back at the foot of the bed and set the water on the floor, he was tempted to wake Corbel and force-feed him that damned toast . . . but another part of him thought better of it. Sans had had days like this as well and knew that the very last thing he wanted when he was feeling this way was to be bothered. He very well could react bitterly and bite his head off.

He reached over to gently stroke Corbel's skull.

Besides, who was he to judge? If he was throwing a fit, he knew the reason. Shit, he was the reason. He had it coming. If it helped Corbel feel even a little bit better, he would gladly be the target of his frustrations . . .

Still, he was concerned. He needed to find a way to show Corbel that he meant what he said. That they were in this together. But after what happened the night before, he feared that would be impossible. No matter what he did, he knew Corbel would be skeptical. He knew Corbel would doubt every word and question every action.

Well, maybe a good place to start would be to make sure the boy didn't starve during his mope session. Toast wouldn't be enough. Not by a longshot.

Again, this left Sans in a difficult situation. With no food in the house, he'd have to leave in order to get some . . . but if Corbel woke up and he wasn't there, he'd only be turning up the temperature in the already boiling pot of hot water he was in. And if he woke Corbel up, in the state of mind as he'd been in all day, it wasn't likely he'd remember anything that was said to him.

Still, something had to be done. He had to fix this somehow. No matter what.

When Corbel woke again, it was to an empty apartment. Sans' empty apartment.

He sat up slowly and squinted outward into the room, not really focusing on anything. Everything still felt like lead. Why was he so heavy today? It slowed everything down. His motions were sluggish and his mind was working through sludge.

It was almost impossible to move at all and just sitting up was a chore . . . But he knew he shouldn't go back to sleep this time. He had no idea how long he'd been sleeping, but it felt like forever . . .

He sat there in a daze, trying to focus enough to even begin to think about what to do. Again, he found himself alone . . . which in all honesty, wasn't so bad this time. It was quiet. Relaxing.

But it wasn't his quiet. It was Sans' quiet.

But Sans wasn't there.

Where was Sans?

He had to squint to see onto the desk where an area had been cleared off and all the papers and books that littered the tabletop before were piled high to one side in order to make room for the small plate that sat there. There was a tented paper beside the plate with his name written on the outer panel.

"Hmm . . . ?"

Slowly, Corbel scooted closer to the edge of the bed and let his legs hang over the side. Now that he was a little closer to the desk, he could see the slices of toast atop the plate. So he hadn't been dreaming that bit . . . ? Huh. And Sans did seem pretty adamant about that damn toast too.

Corbel sighed, shifting to reach for the paper instead.

Inside, were a few short sentences . . . more like fragments.

"Gone to get stuff for dinner. Be back soon. Please eat something before I get back."

Corbel hummed at the note. At least he said something this time.

Corbel laid the paper down flat on the desk and used the solid fixture in order to pull himself to his feet. On the chair beside the desk, his outer shirt from yesterday was draped. He grabbed it and put it on, choosing to leave it unbuttoned.

It took a little bit of effort after that, but he was able to find a pencil in the pile of crap on top of the desk and he used it to write his reply.

With that, Corbel scooped up a piece of toast and slowly crossed the room. His real foot and his legs were still waking up and it even hurt a little to put pressure on them, but he kept going, leaving the apartment behind with a click.

When Sans returned home, the first thing he noticed was that the key, which would sometimes give him issue when he tried to turn it, had no resistance and the door opened a little too easily. Immediately, his chest tightened, even before he could open the door.

Still, he opened it slowly, cautiously, just in case.

"Hey, Corbel." He called inside in a soft tone, "I'm back."

A survey of the one-room apartment yielded exactly the result he'd been dreading. Corbel was gone. The bed and couch both empty and his stuff, nowhere to be found.

Sans sighed, setting all of the groceries down. Of course. What else had he been expecting? For Corbel to wait around even longer for him? For him to want to see him? That the promise of a meal would outweigh the notion to leave?

Actually . . . Maybe he had been hoping for that last one.

Still, he couldn't really blame Corbel. After the night he had, it made sense that he would want to be alone to work things out in his own stride.

Sans crossed the room, leaving his bags at the front door for the moment. His display at the desk had been disturbed which meant Corbel had at least seen the message . . . and one of the slices of toast was gone! Good . . .

He looked to the paper and immediately saw the added text. Picking it up, Sans read Corbel's response.

"Gone home. Don't follow me. Don't call me."

Again, Sans' heart dropped. Was that it then . . . ? Was that the end? Did they just break up?

Sans wasn't surprised. After all, something like this wouldn't be easily forgotten or forgiven. Whether this meant more than that, he would wait for Corbel's final judgment.

For now, however, Corbel wanted to be alone. He needed his own space.

Looks like he found his limit . . .

Sans looked back at the paper as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. Below the initial text, as a small last minute addition, Corbel wrote:

"Thanks for the toast."

To her credit, Alia was quite the adventurer, even if she was a bit talkative . . . And annoying. She did have a certain sense that called her and she always seemed eager to follow it. Whenever They suggested the three of them go off and explorer, she was always the first to agree and even helped to convince the small timid Goat boy to go along. She was always there to offer her support and assure him that no matter what, she (and Chara) would be right there. It was through her encouragement that Asriel ultimately agreed to go along.

And hey, it meant that Chara didn't have to do or say anything, which worked out perfectly for them.

So far, their outings weren't terribly exciting which was . . . okay, they supposed. For now. It gave them the opportunity to see just what kind of monsters lived around. There was an obvious majority who took after animals like Rabbits, Frogs, Lizards, even the Royal Family were Goats. But sprinkled in were other types of Monsters as well. They swore on one of their outings they saw a literal walking volcano!

The only downside to these monsters was that all of them were so dang NICE! How the heck were these monsters supposed to help them with their plan!? If these monsters were to go back to the surface, they'd be wiped out in no time. Even the King, as huge and initially intimidating as he was, was nothing more than a big furry pushover! He would be more likely to offer the humans golden flower tea than take up a weapon. Overall . . . it was a disappointment all around.

They supposed they should've expected it though. After all, they did lose the last war. It's how they ended up underground to begin with. And if what they'd been able to learn was true. It was that same King and Queen who spearheaded the Monster forces.

During the battle, several Monster species were completely wiped out and a few others were driven to the brink of extinction. Imps, Goblins, and Trolls were among those ranks. They hadn't seen a single one of them, no matter how thoroughly they looked. They were known for being fighters and were usually the first into battle (according to the stories They read and games They played.) If They could meet one of them, They could test their skills, maybe bait them into fighting again.

But it really did seem that Imps, Goblins, and Trolls had really gone completely.

Okay, next on the list. The Endangered Monsters: Slimes, Jellies, the Reanimated, and Skeletons.

To Their surprise, Asriel let out a small laugh when They mentioned Zombies. Alia knew exactly what They meant and seemed appropriately unnerved by the idea, but Asriel insisted that they were just a monster that humans created. Reanimated humans was such a far fetched idea that it wasn't even worth considering.

Another disappointment.

Asriel went on further to say that Slimes and Jellies actually weren't that rare. They just prefer extreme temperatures and tended to live near places other monsters don't really frequent like volcanos and frozen tundras. They might see them if they were to travel to Hotland or Snowdin.

"But Skeletons really are pretty rare." Asriel explained, "According to my dad's records, there's only one family of Skeletons left and it's kind of a miracle that they're even around at all. The Gaster family."

Alia lit up at that. "I've met them before! Mr. Corbel did say his last name was Gaster! He and his friend, Sans saved my life when I first fell into the Underground!"

Something in Alia's expression shifted then as she remembered the events.

"There was a cave-in and Mr. Corbel got crushed."

"Oh yeah. I remember Mom and Dad talking about that!" Asriel confirmed, "They thought that Dr. Gaster's son was going to die and the Skeleton line was going to die out with him."

"And Sans was really worried about him too . . . and his dad, Dr. Gaster, was really really upset when he came in and saw what happened." She grabbed at her chest, remembering the feel of the magic over her heart. "He thought that I was the one who hurt Mr. Corbel. And I think he could've actually killed me right then and there, if Sans wasn't there to help me."

"Oh, I don't think Dr. Gaster would kill anyone." Asriel defended, his hands clasping together in front of him, "He's the Royal Scientist. His job is to help monsters."

"Monsters yes." Chara finally spoke up, "But Alia and me aren't monsters."

"Alia and I" Asriel corrected.

"Whatever. Plus if it came to his son's life, I think . . . just about any father would take action against those who threatened it . . ." A slow smile spread as Their eyes turned back toward Asriel, "Just think about it. If you got hurt, wouldn't your parents be heartbroken? Wouldn't they be upset?"

"Well . . . I guess so?" Asriel shrugged.

"And if they knew who was responsible for it, don't you think they'd want to take care of them? Make sure they could never do it again?"

"O-Oh, I don't know . . . I mean, my mom and dad are both . . . They wouldn't do something like that . . . not for a cave-in . . . not when it wasn't anyone's fault. My parents are really nice!"

"But if it was on purpose . . ."

"I-I don't know . . . I don't like this line of thought though . . . Can't we just go back to the adventure?"

Chara groaned, shaking their head. Man, the prince was such a wuss! If he'd just grow a bit of a backbone, he might actually be fun.

And Alia was being unusually quiet too. Usually, she would be the one who would rush in and comfort the fuzzy wet blanket, but she was staring down at her hands for some reason, being silently lost in thought.

They let out a long breath . . . This whole thing was turning into such a drag. Oh well, may as well try to 'lighten the mood' right?"

"Hey, Alia?" They tried, "Quit being all mopey. It doesn't suit you at all."

"Yeah, I know . . . I just . . . I haven't seen Sans or Mr. Corbel since that cave-in . . . I hope everything's okay."

They thought it over for a moment. And it only took that long for everything to click into place. Asriel said that the Gaster guy was the Royal Scientist which meant that his family had a connection to him. And Alia mentioned how furious he'd been when his son was hurt. If that son was still in a vulnerable position . . . maybe they could spin this so that the doctor would show off the full range of his fury. Besides, it kinda fit in with their original mission to find the most rare and exciting monsters the Underground had to offer.

The last Skeleton family. The most promising thing They'd heard all day. And he was sure that Alia would want to check in as well.

"Hey, Azzy." They began again. "You said that Dr. Gaster is the Royal Scientist, right?"

"Um . . . yeah? Why?"

"Well, the Royal Scientist needs a lab to work in right?"

"Yeah. It's in Hotland. But I've never been there before."

"But you have, right, Alia? And I know you wanna go check up on your friend."

"Well . . . yeah. But . . ."

"Then it's settled. We'll head back to New Home for now. But for our next adventure we're going to Hotland to check out Dr. Gaster's lab!"

She finished packing her bag as well as her art supplies. She had the basics packed away days ago, in preparation for this. But now that she was going through with it, she needed to make sure she had everything she needed.

An entire week passed by since that night and she still couldn't forget the look on her son's face or the darkened tone in his voice or the pain in his expression. He ran off that night at full speed and didn't look back.

And since that night, there hadn't been a single word from him. He hadn't been back home and he was avoiding the lab and didn't bother to call.

So, she had to go to him. She had to get her baby back!

Wingdings would be working late again, so there was no need to rush.

She hadn't asked him about work in a while and couldn't ask about how Sans was holding up. She knew just the kind of response she would get and she would rather not deal with another childish tantrum. If she was lucky, she may have the opportunity to ask the boy herself.

She knew one thing for sure. She wouldn't learn anything staying here. Her son wasn't coming back and her husband . . . It looked as if he wasn't going to do anything about it! She didn't have the patience to wait for him to wake up and actually get something done.

It looked as if that job fell to her.

So, instead, she packed. She would stay in Hotland as long as it took in order to get her son to talk to her. She already had a hotel room lined up. And she knew which days he was typically busy. She'd planned most of this visit. Everything except what she was going to say to Corbel. She knew when that conversation came up, the words would come naturally.

Pulling her rolling suitcase behind her and hitching her art bag over her shoulder, she was ready to go.

She didn't even bother to look back as she passed through the new door, still the same shade of grey. Still just as drab and lifeless as it had always been . . . Maybe, once she settled things with her son, she'd do something about that stupid door.

There was a fleeting part of her that wanted to bust this new door as well. Maybe she was thinking too much into it, or feeling too deeply, but ever since her husband put that "new" door up, just looking at it, would upset her all over again. It was as if what happened that night meant nothing! As if everything was unaffected and went right back to normal. Nothing changed . . . even the door that Corbel destroyed was right back to normal . . . as if it didn't matter.

She'd paint over it when she got back. When she felt like coming back.

Man, there was so much work to do.

She stepped off on her way to Hotland. Today was travel and hotel check-in. Tomorrow, she would contact her son and hope he was up for company.

He pushed through the door of stringed glass beads and into the dark shop, his eyes having to adjust pretty drastically in order to see. He told his wife that he'd be working late today . . . which wasn't a complete lie . . . not really.

The lab was closed for the day and all of the assistants had gone their separate ways, but Gaster still had work to do.

Though he didn't say much about it, Corbel's outburst paired with Nyala's reaction to it rattled him throughout his being and straight to his Soul. In the course of a single night, his entire family turned against him. His son stormed off and destroyed the front door and his wife shut off completely from him.

He supposed that maybe he did go a little heavy-handed when it came to his dealings with his son's choice in lovers. But he meant every single word and he even meant the intensity in which he said it. He would not apologize for speaking up and giving his honest opinion.

However . . . perhaps for the sake of the others, he could have been a tad less forceful about it.

That's part of the reason he was visiting. There was a rift torn between him and his son and while they may never see eye to eye again, there could be no doubt that an effort could still be made to make amends.

"Ah! Look who it is!" Exclaimed the shop owner. "The Gaster kid!"

"Good evening, General." Gaster greeted.

"Wahaha!" The old Turtle exclaimed, "Gaster! You know, I'm not the general anymore! I retired this past year."

"I am aware." Gaster acknowledged, "Just like I'm sure you're aware that I am no longer a child."

"To me, son, you will always be that young bull- headed boy, rushing in head first into whatever it was you were doing."

Gaster hummed. "That was a long time ago, Gerson."

"That's right. That's right!" Gerson conceded, raising his hands in surrender. "You've become that stuffy, head-honcho, Royal Scientist haven't you? Honestly, it was such a step away from your family's typical way of doing things that it still throws me for a loop from time to time."

"Or perhaps you are starting to go senile in your old age." Gaster prodded.

"That may well be true. But what you have to understand is, no matter how old you get, I'll just be that much older."

Gaster nodded in response, "I think I do understand. It's the same with my son. You remember Corbel, yes?"

"Of course I do, Gaster, my boy! If I remember correctly, he was the one who would chat my ear off about the rocks and sediments around here and from all around the Underground, trying to figure out how deep underground we were and what it would take to reach the surface. Boy had an eye for geodes too, didn't he? I still have the one he gave me here somewhere. Such a thoughtful young boy. You'd never believe that you used to be just like him. Just as rambunctious, just as energetic, just as inquisitive and just as generous. Whatever happened to you, Gaster?"

The doctor looked over the old Turtle with a deep sigh.

"You know what happened, Gerson."

Gerson nodded his understanding. "Of course." He hummed, "But war or no war, even in the face of genocide, you were always hopeful and helpful. It's how you got through the worst of times. By being of use to others, by sacrificing your own time and recovery for the chance to help build other monsters up from nothing. Why, I'm sure that if your father and grandfather could see what you've become. If they could meet your son . . ."

"There's no use in living in hypotheticals, General. What is done is done and cannot be undone."

"I understand." Gerson responded through a soft chuckle, I was just thinking that if Harrington had a chance to meet him . . . Or if Kozuka-"

"They've been dead for a long long time." Gaster interrupted.

"The war was tough on all of us." Gerson nodded again, "We all lost people we loved."

"They were dead to me before the war!" Gaster snapped.

Gerson's good eye narrowed as he hummed to himself. Gaster really had changed a lot since those days. It was true that he'd grown older, but it was more than that. Ever since the war was lost and the monsters' lives as they knew it were forever disrupted, he'd never been the same.

He remembered that day well. The day the monsters were sealed. The day they lost everything.

The day he found a young Wingdings Gaster broken and unconscious. His HP was almost completely drained and he was on the brink of death after having been dragged from the front lines. He had no business being on the front lines at all! He was a student! Just a boy! A child aide to their medical unit.

He'd just lost his entire family. His entire species. His father and grandfather. When he woke, he would be completely alone, orphaned and the last of his kind, his entire family murdered at the hands of humans.

When he woke, he would need someone beside him, someone who could explain things to him. Someone who could help him pick up and move on.

Well, he did have one last thing. Gerson held it tightly in his hand as he watched over the unconscious form before him. It was something entrusted to him by the boy's father moments before he turned to dust. Something he'd meant to pass on to his son, but never had the opportunity. When he woke, he would fulfill his father's final wish and give him the silver pocket watch.

He blinked out of the memory and turned his eye back to the now full-grown and fully established Skeleton Monster before him. The light and life in his eyes had faded long ago and what was left was the shell of the monster he used to be.

"How sad," Gerson muttered to himself.

Gaster's expression only changed slightly as he looked back at Gerson. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.

"But it's been so long since you've visited, boy, that I doubt it's only to catch up and drink Sea Tea. What brings you my way, Wingdings?"

It was then Gerson took note of the hand in Gaster's pocket. He'd been fidgeting with something in there for quite some time.

"What did you bring me?"

"Actually, General . . . Gerson . . . I came to ask for your help."

When she sat down, she was greeted by a now-familiar face. A Cat wearing a slight grin waved her in and gestured to the seat in front of him.

Undyne was grateful that this place was at least warmer than the greasy spoon in Snowdin. She didn't even need her jacket for this coffee shop and the atmosphere seemed a bit more chill as well. In the back of her mind, she thought that maybe Corbel and Napstablook would enjoy a place like this.

"So," Gaine began, folding his arms atop the table, "How have you been these past few weeks? Keeping busy, I trust?"

Again, Undyne eyed him skeptically. Why in the world did he insist on starting every conversation with pointless small talk. This was supposed to be a progress meeting wasn't it?

"Yeeeeeaaaah." She answered anyway. "The Guard keeps me pretty busy mostly. But I'm doing pretty okay for myself." She huffed in slight annoyance. Great, now she had to say something back to keep the air from getting awkward. Oh well, may as well get straight to the point ". . . What about at the nerd factory? Anything new?"

Gaine cracked a slow smile.

"Oh, it's been interesting to say the least."

"Has Corbel come back to work yet? Sorry, I haven't had the chance to catch up with him yet."

"No, not yet. It looks like Dr. Gaster still has him on leave. This is in regards to the thing we saw in Snowdin."

Again, Undyne felt her eyes narrow. "Okaaay. You wanna get to the point? And what's with that freaky grin?"

"As straightforward as always, I see. Fine. I admit, I have no hard evidence to support my claim, but I wanted to get your opinion nonetheless. Something I've witnessed at the lab in the past week."

"And that would be . . ."

"Something's different in the way Serif has been acting. He's made a complete 180 in the span of one weekend! Week one, he was energetic and lively with that stupid smile of his. He was greeting everyone who crossed his way. Even me and we're not that close, even though we started around the same time. Maltez tells me Serif has been chatting it up a lot more with him though, asking him about all of the stuff he does around town with Baelin and trying to get date ideas out of him."

Undyne watched along silently, though her nails at the ends of her webbed fingers had begun to drum on the table in her frustration.

"And this has what to do with Corbel?"

"You need to ask?" Gaine smirked, "But that was week one. When he came back after the weekend, it was like he was a whole different person. He was sluggish and constantly distracted. He was muttering to himself and keeping quiet and secluded. He was avoiding everyone and when Maltez approached him about it, asking if everything was okay, Serif was unresponsive, like he was broken or something. Like something had completely shattered him. When Maltez asked him about Corbel, Serif said he hadn't seen him in a while. But he wouldn't say anything more than that."

Undyne's fingers stopped drumming as she raised her brows, her fin ears frilling out in interest.

"Really . . . ? Why do you think that is exactly?"

Gaine leaned forward, his hands clasped together in front of his mouth where it only partially covered his smile.

"I can't say for certain, but something's definitely wrong in paradise."

There was a moment where Undyne hesitated, unsure of how to feel or to respond to the news. Her fingers pounded on the table even more fervently than before, her fury rising to a new level. If that little prick hurt Corbel again . . . And if the two of them were already fighting . . . They haven't even been together that long!

That pretty much confirmed everything she ever thought about him. Her instinct about him was right from the very beginning. He was an absolutely terrible fit for Corbel!

In spite of herself, a smile began to spread.

This was perfect! This was her golden chance to finally finally knock that little punk down for good! If Corbel could finally see that too, then there's no way that smug possibly-fake Skeleton even stood a chance!

Across the way, Gaine watched along as the gears in Undyne's head turned and grinded toward a conclusion. It seemed as if she was getting excited.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her resonated deeply with him. Right from the start, he could sense that drive and passion. It's what drew him to her and it's what kept him interested.

This went beyond his own agenda now. He wanted to see more of that drive and passion from Undyne. And if there was a way for him to provide that, then he would without hesitation. It just so happened that they both had similar interests at the moment and that gave him the opportunity to work closely with her. They were partners in this task and for as long as they had together, Gaine planned to enjoy himself.

From across their table, Undyne's shoulders bounced slightly as she chuckled to herself.

"Well, if you want information out of that little shit, I can get it for you. And I'll get it right from the source. No holding back."

Gaine nodded once in confirmation. Yeah, that was pretty much exactly what he'd been expecting.

"Sounds good to me. Now, what kind of coffee do you like? It's on me."

Corbel was working on a paper when he heard the call come in. At once, something in his chest seized. There were really only three people who ever called him and he wasn't incredibly thrilled about the thought of talking to any of them.

First on that list was Undyne. It wasn't that she didn't call often, but when she did, there was always something more. Something she wanted, information, time Corbel didn't have.

Though, it is possible that she just wanted to check in with him. They hadn't hung out in a while. He hadn't even told her about Sans yet. Maybe she just wanted to catch up.

But somehow, given the circumstances in his own mind, he doubted that was the case. Besides, even if they did just hang out and catch up, there would be no doubt that the conversation would inevitably turn to his new (and already failing) relationship. Without a doubt, she would turn it into a lecture of "I told you so".

No, that wasn't worth answering for.

Next on that list was his father. He would have about the same take on things, though Corbel imagined that he would use more indirect methods to get his point across. That is, if he really wanted to hold a conversation with Corbel, he would use more indirect wording. Probably start out with how Corbel skipped out on his Physical Therapy session, how he can never really hope to fully recover if he didn't take the sessions seriously, and how he needs to be careful not to skew his priorities. He'd use that as a segue to time management, to relationships, and back to Sans and what happened.

It would take Corbel about 45 minutes to worm out of that conversation after a lot of mindless "yeah"s and "Mm-hmm"s at seemingly appropriate places.

Nope. Not feeling that at all.

The third was Sans . . . He wasn't ready for that can of worms either.

So when he picked up his phone to look at the caller ID and found a number he didn't recognize, he was surprised to say the least. He frowned at it for a moment before opening the phone and answering with a hesitant "Hello . . . ?"

"Corbel!? Honey, you picked up!"

"Mom!?" Corbel exclaimed in his surprise, "Mom, where . . .? What number is this?"

"I took your advice, sweetie! I got a cell! Isn't that great!? Since you haven't called home, I thought I'd call you instead!"

"That's great, Mom." Corbel smiled, maybe a little less enthusiastically than his mother's example, "So, this is your new number? How come you're not calling from the house phone?"

"Well, I'd have to be at the house to use the house phone, wouldn't I?"

Corbel frowned slightly, making sense of what she was saying, "If you're not at home . . . Where are you?"

"Oh, I'm staying in Hotland for a while!" she cheered. "I was hoping that maybe we could hang out!"

"You're in Hotland!? Mom, you know, there are better vacation spots, right?"

"I know, I know. But Hotland has you."

"I . . . guess? I mean, I could've met you somewhere or something! I still could!"

Almost instantly, Corbel's face fell, something crossing his mind.

"Mom . . . ?"

It seemed his mother picked up on the drop in his tone almost instantaneously. And she also seemed to know exactly what it meant.

"I'm here to see you, Baby." She said soothingly, "I miss your face. And I just . . . I wanted to check up on you and Sans. Your father . . . doesn't know I'm here . . . Or that I'll be staying for a while . . . I haven't told him."

Corbel hesitated, letting out a long breath. As she spoke, his mother's voice got softer and more distracted, more dejected and more sad.

"Mom." Corbel asked in a voice just as soft, "Is everything okay?"

Nyala sighed deeply, "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Well, to be fair, you weren't exactly hiding it."

"No, I guess not. So, if there's no point in denying it, no. Everything is not okay. I feel absolutely terrible about what happened that night. And your father isn't exactly helping things along. He's being stubborn and childish and frustrating and honestly, I'm getting a little fed up with it. I'm through trying to talk to him for now. Especially if he doesn't want to listen."

Corbel leaned forward on his desk with his cheek resting in his hand. There was a tiny smile pulling at the very corner of his mouth.

So, it finally happened. His mother had reached her limit. Not only that, but she'd reached that limit and she was talking to him about it. Adult conversation with his mother . . . So much smoother than what was supposed to be adult conversation with his father.

"But . . ." Nyala sighed again, releasing her frustration and resetting herself, "That's not why I'm here. I came here to get away from that."

"Sounds like a good move to me. So, where are you staying, Mom? Sorry, I can't put you up here. But there's not a whole lot of room and I don't want you sleeping on the couch . . . Unless . . . I can give you my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"No, Baby! No. That's not necessary. I've got a room. And besides, You've got your own life going on. I don't want to get in the way."

"Mom. You're not in the way. But if you do already have a place lined up, I think you might be more comfortable there. But that doesn't mean that I can't still come see you. Where are you staying?"

"At the Molt-Inn downtown. It's not far from your dorms actually."

Corbel chuckled softly to himself. "Yeah, I know where that is. I'm on my way."