A/N: Who's ready for this story to pick up? I am!
PTSD TRIGGER WARNING! A reader left a review stating that they were triggered by this chapter, so please read carefully!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Should I ask you what you think of her?" Sans asked as he shrugged on his lab coat.
Gaster glanced down at his son. He'd gotten over his anger, but he still couldn't figure out how Sans could think what he'd done was a good idea.
"No."
Sans' smile dropped. "Really, Dad? She's a fucking rainbow incarnate; you can't hate her."
"I don't hate her." Although he wasn't sure why.
Sans watched his dad for a minute. Sometimes his logic-minded self could hide emotions a little too well. He wanted to know what his dad thought of his girlfriend now that he'd forced them to meet. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like Gaster was going to change his mind about how he regarded humans because of one woman.
Gaster sighed and turned to his son before they started on the tests for the day. "I'm serious, Son. I don't hate her. I'm still a little frustrated with you, however."
That was a surprise. "With me?"
"Yes, with you. It would have been nice if I'd been able to prepare for that meeting."
Sans realized that, in his rage, he'd completely forgotten to take his dad's feelings into consideration. If he had taken even a second to think about how it would have affected him, he would have realized that his dad was still afraid of humans.
"I'm sorry." He hung his head in shame. "I didn't even think about that."
Gaster placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I know, and I don't blame you. You know emotions aren't my strong suit, and I tend to make irrational choices myself when I'm caught off-guard by them. I said I was still frustrated, not angry. I'll get over it."
Sans stepped forward and hugged Gaster tightly. "I know you will, but I want you to know that from now on I will talk to you before I bring her…well, I won't be bringing her here again, but I guess I don't want that to be the only time you ever get to know her. She really is an amazing person."
Gaster hugged Sans back. "I wouldn't be opposed to that."
Sans stepped back and looked up. "Really?"
"I suppose I love you, my son. I want you to be happy, and it appears that this human does that for you. Sooner or later, I have to accept that she's an important part of your life."
Sans grinned. "I suppose I love you, too."
"Now, let's get to work. These tests won't run themselves."
Sans straightened his lab coat and followed the taller monster to the counters.
After a few hours, Sans turned to his dad. "Hey, come look at this." He gestured to the microscope in front of him.
Gaster made his way over.
"This is acting really weird. It ain't supposed to do that, is it?"
Gaster sighed. "Sans, if I've told you this once, I've told you a million times. When you're working in my lab, you are a scientist and I expect you speak like one."
Sans grinned. "This here sample is actin' like a crazy-puff, Pops. Puh-leez, can yeh look at it?"
Gaster groaned. "Never mind."
Sans couldn't help but laugh out loud as he moved out of the way.
Gaster studied the specimen on the slide for a few moments before he stood up straight.
"I stand corrected; that is weird."
He hurried to a cupboard a few yards away, grabbed a few things out of it, and returned.
"Show me which specimen you used, Sans. Quickly."
They got to work, checking and rechecking sample after sample. After several hours, Gaster sat back and looked up at the ceiling.
"I'm not sure I can believe these findings," he said softly.
Sans shook his head; he wasn't sure he could either.
"A virus that can infect both human and monster? This is unheard of, Sans."
"I know, Dad. It's kinda freaky, too."
Gaster glared at his son for a moment before he gave up. Although it really did annoy him when Sans chose to speak like he didn't have a doctorate degree, he had to agree—it was freaky. No illness had ever crossed between humans and monsters before. Perhaps it had something to do with co-habitation; viruses were figuring out how to mutate enough to spread across all available hosts.
"We should let the humans know." Sans said.
Gaster looked at Sans and thought for a moment. He wanted to say no, they shouldn't alert anyone. This virus that had caused the monster version of a common cold for ages could potentially wipe out a good number of humans if spread.
"Dad, I don't like that look on your face. We're not letting this get out."
Gaster shook his head. "No, of course not, Son. I'll let my colleagues know immediately. Will you prepare some samples? They'll want to see this for themselves."
Sans breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. There had only been a small handful of occasions where his dad's access to a medical lab and hatred for humans had seemed like a terrible combination. This would just be one more such case. Sans knew his dad wouldn't actually do anything, especially not now that a human was so important to his son.
~LM~
Two weeks passed. Gaster and Sans continued studying the new virus to determine its weak points and how to kill it quickly and efficiently. So far, they didn't have any answers. It seemed to mutate too quickly.
"I want to have you and Frisk over for dinner sometime this weekend," Sans said seriously as he dabbed a sample onto a slide. He placed a cover slip on top and gingerly put it in place on the microscope.
"Why this weekend?" Gaster asked, distracted by his own specimens.
"I dunno. I just feel like with all this going down with the virus and all, I want you two to get to know each other better." He shrugged like he didn't feel impending doom in his soul with every breath he took.
"Sans, are you okay?" Gaster looked up, suddenly concerned. He hadn't heard that worried tone of voice in a long time.
"This thing is really…it's getting scary, Dad. I know for us it's a few days under the weather and we're fine. What will happen if she catches it? Could it kill her? It sure as hell ravages the human samples we give it here." He gestured to the microscope, trying to keep a hold on his emotions.
Gaster got up and walked over to place a hand on Sans' shoulder. "I would be happy to come to dinner, Sans." He thought for a second. "Perhaps 'happy' isn't the best descriptor, but I wouldn't hate it, either."
Sans smiled. "Thanks, Dad."
Gaster squeezed his son's shoulder once before walking back over to his microscope.
They worked in silence for a few minutes as Sans thought about how he could protect Frisk from this virus. They had only gotten closer the last two weeks, both physically and romantically. He was still hesitant to make love to her, but he thought maybe he'd finally figured that out. If he wasn't careful with his magic, he could really hurt her. He wasn't sure how to be careful in that respect. He wanted to figure it out with her, but he had to do some of his own research before he could risk putting her in any danger.
A few hours later, the lab doors opened. Sans turned around to see four men in dark suits walk up to the landing.
"Excuse me, Dr. Gaster?" the one in front called out.
Gaster turned around, already annoyed. "Who are you and what do you want?"
The man in front held up a badge. "I'm Dr. Krall from the Center for Disease Control. My colleagues and I are here to collect your research for the Transference Virus."
Gaster's good brow furrowed. "Excuse me? I've sent all the samples my colleagues would need, and this is certainly not how they should ask for more." He turned around. "Good day."
"We're not asking, and we're not taking 'no' for an answer." Dr. Krall took a few steps forward. "I need all samples packed up, all research printed, and all files transferred to our system before being deleted from yours."
Sans stood up. "You can't just take all of his work," he all but shouted. "We're close to a cure."
Dr. Krall didn't look impressed. "We'll need that research, too, then."
"I'm afraid you're not going to get anything from me," Gaster said matter-of-factly as he stood up to his full height.
The men looked at each other uneasily.
"There are appropriate channels to go about requesting any of my work, and this is certainly not one of them."
"Again, we're not asking. You know the Center for Disease Control has been wary of your access to equipment of this nature for some time now, and now we have proof that it should have been shut down ages ago."
Sans couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Nobody's shutting anything down," he said with a growl. "You guys need to leave."
"Sans, please calm down," Gaster said hastily.
Dr. Krall took another two steps forward. "This virus is exactly what we need to properly shut everything of yours down, Dr. Gaster. We always knew you'd create something this diabolical."
"Create—?" Gaster was appalled. "I certainly didn't create this!"
"Why else would you threaten your colleagues?"
Sans thought maybe now was a good time to see what would happen if a human were infected. He discreetly reached behind him and wrapped his phalanges around a test tube full of the virus.
"I was simply sharing information; it's not my fault if they can't understand the difference."
"Regardless. This is getting tiring. Boys, gather the stuff and let's get out of here."
The four men rushed forward to gather everything that they could. Gaster tried to stop them, but a gun was drawn. The man tripped, and the bullet fired.
Sans didn't even think. He threw his left arm up and created a barrier between his father and the bullet. The tube with the virus in it flew up as well. Before it hit the ground, he caught it with magic and set it on a nearby table.
The room was deadly quiet for a few heartbeats.
"What on earth was that?" Dr. Krall asked, his voice shaking.
"That was nothing," Sans said, a little too quickly.
"He has magic!" Dr. Krall yelled. "Weapons magic!"
"N-no I don't." Sans stepped back and looked at his father.
Gaster stood frozen, unable to help his son. His mind was invaded with images of a large ice pick inside a machine he was strapped into. The scars on his head ached as he watched his son being carried out of the room. It only vaguely dawned on him that there were more people in the room. Instead of the dark suits of the CDC men, there were white lab coats and shouted orders that he barely heard.
He would never forget the look of heartbreak on Sans' face. He had failed his son.
The room was silent. Gaster reached up to feebly wipe away purple tears from his face. How could he have let that happen? He just let his son and his research get taken from him.
To hell with the research. All of it could be redone.
His son was gone.
A/N: Try not to be too mad at Gaster? PTSD is a psychotic bitch.