AN: Hello again, everyone! I really hope that you are all well! Well, here we are again! Another chapter and another step closer to figuring out what exactly is going on! I did originally plan for this chapter to be the catalyst into the BIG IDEA arc of this story, but it's been 20 Days since the last chapter . . . and this was running very long . . . I was on about page 20 when I realized I hadn't even touched the part I'd wanted to . . . so unfortunately, I had to perform another surgery on another chapter.
Just so I know for future reference though: if you were given a choice, would you rather have shorter chapters to read if it meant it would be more frequently updated? Or would you rather wait longer periods of time, but be rewarded with super lengthy chapters? Leave your answers in the reviews!
ALSO! Speaking of reviews! I want to give a special THANK YOU to MachUPB For your incredible endorsement! Thank you for taking the time, not only to read Surpassing Origins, but for your kind words for it! I'm SO glad you enjoyed the book! And I'll be sure to let you know when the next one is out! =^w^=
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Thank you all and I will see you all in the next chapter!
Chapter 12
Low Battery
In the years following the address, it seemed as if the lingering enthusiasm continued to spread.
Even the children of the Underground began to develop games centered around finding, hunting, and fighting humans. The most popular of these was a game called "Monsters and Humans" which is much like a game of tag mixed with Hide-and-Seek. The children will designate one to be the "human" who will find a hiding space. The "monsters" will then search for the "human" and whoever finds them first will initiate a FIGHT. The two will exchange magical attacks until one is hit (because there is no real intent to do any harm, the attacks do no damage to each other). If the "human" is hit, they die and must find a new hiding spot. If the "monster" is hit, they turn to dust and they become the new "human" who must now find a place to hide. And thus, the cycle continues.
The adults of the Underground found the little game charming as well as lucrative. It taught the children the significance of stealth and tracking while simultaneously helping them to hone their magical and combat skills. The game seemed like a lot of fun for the children, especially those who were adept in magical manipulation and evasive maneuvers. Those who were not as agile, however, would spend most of the game as the "human" which seemed to wear on their nerves a bit at times.
The enthusiasm was, by no means, limited to the children. Monsters everywhere discussed with each other just what their plans were for finding and hunting the humans. For some, it became a favorite past time much like fishing or hiking, where for others, it became a competition to see who would be next to find a human.
That same zeal even reached the monsters at the lab. Now that it was known that they would be finding ways to use the souls collected to break the barrier and set everyone free, many of them were even more eager to get to work on the souls.
Even through this, Gaster kept the other monsters at bay, insisting that it was far too dangerous to have them around the souls as well. He emphasized that souls were an unstable substance with unimaginable power that had yet to be harnessed or successfully contained.
He warned his assistants that if the slightest thing were to go awry, it could mean devastation and disfiguration. When the question came up if the crack in Gaster's skull was in result to working with the first soul, the doctor had only nodded and refused to go into details. The others seemed to take that as a sufficient confirmation and they were a little more reserved in their enthusiasm- a little more wary of what working with the souls would entail. Still, they were hopeful that they would be able to have their shot at working up close and personal with the souls.
And so, about two years passed and Gaster continued to work alone.
While many of the monsters seemed to understand and seemed content with the way things were around the lab, there was still a bit of unrest . . . with one assistant in particular.
As he was working on his other projects, it was soon rather obvious that Gaine was a little perturbed and more than a little upset about being left out of the goings on with the souls when that had been made the highest priority by both Gaster and the king. His ears were almost always pinned back against his head as he frowned, glaring at his work, and on the off-chance his tail was visible from underneath his lab coat the others noted just how thick and bushy it seemed as of late: another tell-tale sign of his pent-up frustrations.
More than once, Gaine had been caught muttering to himself about how selfish Gaster was for keeping all of the soul business to himself and that basically, he and the other monsters were only being brought in for busy work when they could all be working with the souls. Not only would they get the work done faster, but when they did find a way to break the barrier, Gaster wouldn't be the only one whose name was attached to the project.
He explained this to the others during lunch one day while they were all gathered in the break room and someone had mentioned his distracted expression. He had received a few nods from the others who saw where his frustrations were stemmed and a few frowned back at him, reserving their thoughts and opting not to voice their opinions on the matter. Though part of them did agree with Gaine, another part understood just why Gaster wanted to keep them away from the souls . . . especially if they were as dangerous as he said they were.
"You're seriously going to buy that crap?" Gaine had scoffed. "Obviously, he was just trying to scare you away from the project to keep you in the dark about what he's doing. And you fell for it like sheep. Think about it! Gaster is supposed to be this genius scientist, right? And he's been working on these souls for years now! Even before the address and the king finally told us what was going on. Gaster had been working on them and keeping it all hushed up and under wraps. Tell me, does that seem right to you? And it looks like the only one who has even been anywhere remotely near the big stuff was his little pet, Serif. Now, doesn't that seem strange?"
"Gaine! Shh, he's right there!" A monster by the name of Ruddard urged, tilting his large head toward where Sans was asleep on the far couch.
"What? It's not like he's listening, the lazy bastard. I'm just saying. How the hell are we supposed to trust either one of them if they've been keeping secrets like that from us. They've been working together to keep us out of it. Not only that, but haven't you guys noticed just how much he gets away with because he's all buddy-buddy with Gaster?"
"Gaine!"
"I'm just saying." Gaine repeated drumming a clawed paw on the lunch table in front of him, "If I tried half the crap he pulls, I would've been out of here so long ago. And so would any of you! Seriously. It's blatant favoritism! And why? Because he's a Skeleton?"
"But S-sans is a hard worker, Gaine." Alphys stuttered around her chopsticks as she blew on her piping hot cup of instant ramen, "He's a-always here early and he's always the last to g-go. Haven't you noticed? He's here all the time. Even on days when-when the r-rest of us have a d-day off. And . . . and recently, he's been out here w-working on other projects just like you . . . j-just like everyone else . . . h-he hasn't b-been around Gaster or the s-souls at all."
"And why the hell are you standing up for him?" Gaine pushes. "You got a thing for him or something? Or are you part of this stupid alliance thing? Look, you wanna try to prove me wrong? Here's a pop quiz for you: What's my first name? What about Maltez' . . . ? Ruddard's?"
Alphys silenced, turning her attention back to her ramen. A slightly nervous look fell over her then.
Gaine shook his head, his ears twitching in irritation as he swirled his drink in his hand like a chemical mixer.
"Yeah . . . I didn't think so. But you know the name 'Sans' right? And why is that? What makes him so special that Gaster's on first-name basis with him?"
"Well, I suppose that's because he was Gaster's first apprentice." Baelin chimed in, her tiny legs crossed as she sat on the chair across from Gaine. She made a gesture that would have been a shrug if she had any arms . . . or shoulders. Instead it was more of a head-tilt of suggestion, "He's been here longer than any of us and he knew Gaster before becoming his apprentice, whereas we were hired on to fill a job. Of course, it's going to cause some differences."
"That's crap and you know it!" Gaine retorted with narrowed eyes. "After all of these years, Gaster hasn't even made an effort to learn our names! That's how much he really cares! So forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced he's keeping us away from the souls 'for our own good.'"
"But . . . S-Sans isn't his first name . . . th-that's just what he prefers."
"Case in friggin' point!" Gaine huffed, "Oh, and to answer your question, Alphys. I have noticed Serif out on the floor with us more often lately. Of course I have, but I'm also sure it's not for the reason you think. It's not 'work' he's doing so much as micro-managing. Don't you get it? He's Gaster's eyes and ears out here. Keeping tabs on all of us to report back to the boss! It's Gaster's way of keeping us all in check. He sends his little bloodhound out to test the waters and do the dirty stuff."
"I-it's not like that, Gaine." Alphys steps in again, "I-I mean . . . it's true that we don't see Dr. Gaster much anymore . . . and it's true that Sans has been out doing other projects with us more often than usual. But that's because the souls are a delicate business. Gaster wants to make sure that none of us are hurt in the process. If he really has been working on this for a long time, then he knows just how dangerous the souls can be. He wants to stabilize the souls before introducing us to them . . . that's all."
From the couch, Sans let out a distressed sound and curled in on himself, but he remained asleep. The others took a second and looked back toward him before turning back to continue their conversation in hushed voices.
"A-as for Sans . . . well, Sans is out here with us b-because he has a n-negative reaction to the souls. He-he was there when Gaster had his-his a-accident. He's seen first-hand w-what they can do . . . B-but ever since that day, he can't stand to be around them . . . They m-make him sick! So Gaster pairs him with us s-so he can c-continue to work without being around the souls!"
To this new information, Gaine's ears perked and stood up. He didn't even bother to hide the sudden interest.
"It does what to Serif?"
Alphys halted, her eyes widened as she turned her attention back to her ramen, which was finally cool enough to eat without blowing. "O-oh . . . n-nothing . . . nothing really. He just s-said that being near the souls d-doesn't sit well with him. H-he says they m-make him feel n-nauseated."
Gaine hummed a little to himself, letting a slight chuckle through as he downed his drink and pushed himself backward from the table in preparation to stand. "Well, go figure. I never would have pegged Serif as the squeamish type. What a lightweight."
The others began to follow suit, gathering their things and collecting their trash. The lunch hour was spent and it was time to get back to work. Even as they made their way back, the tension brought about by Gaine's rant hadn't subsided and a couple of the other monsters turned over their shoulders to look back at Sans a final time as he lay with his back facing toward them.
Alphys was the only one who stayed behind. She still wasn't finished with her ramen and she wanted to quickly eat before going back to work. Five more minutes wouldn't hurt.
"Don't forget to wake Sleeping Beauty over there before you head back." Gaine smirked as he turned to head down the hallway and resume work on his project.
Alphys nodded.
Behind her, curled on the couch, Sans laid motionless, his eyes opened slightly as he listened in and soaked in every word.
Gaine wasn't wrong . . . Though Sans was placed out on the floor mainly to assist the others in their assigned projects and lend a hand wherever he was able, recently, Sans had been assigned other "projects" as well . . . and those projects did revolve around monitoring and evaluating a select few assistants and reporting their actions to Gaster. At the top of that list was Gaine. Gaster had reason to believe that Gaine was a bit disgruntled with how things were being handled at the lab and might even been planning to take things into his own hands. If they weren't careful, he could be the source of some major issues for them. From what Sans was able to hear just then, it seemed as if Gaine might have even been trying to convince the others that Gaster was corrupt . . . could this be the start of a coup?
At least Alphys wasn't falling for it.
"S-Sans . . ." The rookie assistant stammered quietly, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "H-hey, Sans? It's t-time to get back to work."
Alphys seemed extremely cautious about the way she approached Sans whenever she had to wake him up from his "naps" or if he'd actually fallen asleep. A part of Sans felt a little guilty about that. After all, after that first time when Alphys had been the one to wake him up from a nightmare, he'd thrown her clear across the room with magic. Of course she was going to be cautious after that.
Sans let out a groan, trying to convince her that he'd been sleeping the entire time. He stretched and let out a convincing yawn- convincing only because it was real . . . he was actually pretty tired.
Heh, maybe he should have used that hour to sleep. With his HP messing with him the way it was, it was starting to take a toll on his stamina. Maybe he'd grab some popato chisps or something before heading back to work . . . refill what little HP he had left.
"Sans," Alphys questioned, taking a step backward from where Sans stirred, "Are you okay? You were moaning in your sleep."
Sans pulled himself into a sitting position, keeping his head lowered. "Yeah," He answered solidly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Al."
"Another nightmare?"
Sans shrugged, "I guess you could say that. Definitely a bit of a headache."
Alphys nodded. "And outside of work? Have you been sleeping okay? Is that why you've been so tired on the clock?"
"I don't remember scheduling an appointment." Sans chuckled, "How about we just get back to it, huh?"
"O-oh . . . Of course. I-I'm sorry."
"Eh, it's alright."
As Sans gathered his things and purchased his bag of chisps, he couldn't help but frown a little to himself . . . was it really that obvious that he hadn't been sleeping well lately that Alphys felt she needed to comment on it?
Well, even if he had been sleeping through the night, it wasn't as if it would do him much good. Or at least not as much good as it would have done anyone else. When Sans' HP had fallen to 3, Papyrus had been the one to break the bad news and even though he could sense that Papyrus really wanted to help, there was nothing he could really do. The taller Skeleton had tried to be encouraging and supportive as Sans sat contemplating what could possibly be happening. At the time, Sans hadn't been able to hear Papyrus' words. His mind was clouded and dark as he thought it over, trying to readjust the information in his head in a way that made sense.
Was he dying? Is that what was going on? He didn't feel sick or anything . . . So why was his HP slipping away. He supposed it would have been different if it was just a drain in his regular HP. That way, he would be able to recover it and live a relatively normal life . . . but no . . . this was a drain on his Max HP. . . And as far as he knew, there was no way to get that back.
. . . What was going on?
Sans began to think more deeply on the matter. When did the soul sapping start? Why did it only seem to happen at certain times? It wasn't exactly a constant thing . . . nor did it happen at specified intervals. What were the conditions that lead to it?
Sans only started paying attention again when Papyrus mentioned telling Gaster.
"oh . . . no, I don't think that's such a good idea, paps." Sans had groaned, still very shaken and still very tired, despite just having slept through the entire night . . . Even with the nightmare. "you see, the doc . . ." Sans scrambled, trying to find a decent excuse, "well, he's a busy guy. you know, with all the work he's been doing on the souls and all."
"All the more reason to tell him what's going on!" Papyrus urged. "Dr. Gaster is the leading expert in matters to do with the soul! If anyone can help you with yours, it would be him, wouldn't it?"
Sans laughed sarcastically, "yeah, the leading expert who has yet to find anything notable. the guy's grasping at straws. has been for years. what would the point be?"
"We have to do something!" Papyrus argued back, "ANYTHING is better than watching your life slip away piece by piece!"
The urgency and passion behind Papyrus' words caught Sans off guard. He was genuinely concerned for him and his well-being. Sans could count on one hand how many people he cared for like that . . . Or who cared about him . . . And Papyrus was one of them.
Gaster was the only other.
But ever since the king's address, Sans had really left Gaster alone. He supposed even for the two of them, there were just some things they would never be able to agree on.
It was a stupid thought, but since that day, just being around Gaster had started to make Sans nervous. There had been no change in the man at all. Everything was exactly the same . . . Except the way Sans perceived him.
Maybe that had to do with the souls too, or maybe just his own . . .
Sans let out a long breath, pushing all that aside as the ringing of Papyrus' voice echoed in his own mind.
He had to suck it up. Put aside his own unsolicited apprehension and paranoia in order to heed to Papyrus'.
"alright, bro . . ." Sans conceded through a defeated tone, "you win . . . we'll go see gaster."
From that day onward, just like Sans had been worried about, Gaster was starting to monitor him even more closely while they were off the clock, requiring CHECKS once a day, asking constant and invasive questions, even so far as to team up with Papyrus to make sure Sans was sleeping through the night and not losing any more HP in his sleep.
Sans was required to keep a journal, monitoring himself and the way his body was responding to having such little HP. It was the lowest Max HP Gaster had ever seen. Even newborns had at least 10 while their magic was still building and manifesting itself.
. . . There was something very wrong with Sans . . . And until they could figure out what or why, they had to "stabilize" him . . . They had to figure out what his new normal was.
Sans hated it. He hated feeling like he was terminally ill or something. Like everyone was just waiting around for him to keel over and die at any second.
Even Alphys, as she stood there asking questions . . . Almost like she . . . was . . .
"gaster put you up to this, didn't he?"
Immediately, Alphys noticed the darker and more serious tone to Sans' voice as he glared downward toward his feet, the chisps clutched in his hands. Suddenly, Sans was upset about something. What was he even thinking about?
"U-up to what? Sans . . . w-what are you talking about?"
"he told you to talk to me, didn't he? he wanted you to check up on me."
"W-w-why w-would G-Gaster ask me to-to d-do that?"
"don't even try to deny it, al. you're a terrible liar." Sans glared, turning his attention to the lizard at his side, "you won't even look at me and your stuttering is worse than ever."
Alphys, with her head hung, adjusted her glasses as she shot a quick look up to Sans.
"He-he's just really worried about you, that's all."
"did he tell you why he was asking you to spy on me?"
Alphys vigorously shook her head. "J-just to keep an eye on you and alert him if anything changed."
Sans shook his head now, a deep frown on his face. This was exactly what Gaine had been talking about. Curious mind or not. . . this was bordering on indecent. Sans had a right to privacy at least, didn't he? Why did Gaster have to know what he was doing every moment?
"you know . . ." Sans said dully, "i think i'm gonna use some sick time. all of a sudden, i'm not feeling quite up to staring at blueprints for another four hours."
"B-but . . . But Sans . . ."
"feel free to report this to the doc. don't forget to mention the part where his constant and completely invasive snooping was discovered."
Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and skulked off toward where the elevator was. He kept his gaze lowered and his eyes narrowed.
"Sans, wait!" Alphys called after him, rushing to catch up.
Sans stopped and Alphys stopped right behind him.
"It wasn't just Gaster who asked me to watch over you."
"heh, listen to that. 'watch over'." Sans scoffed, "like you're my friggin mom or something."
"Sans, please. Papyrus is really worried about you too. He told me you weren't feeling well, that you haven't been sleeping well . . . and that you could be in some real trouble if you work yourself too hard. You need to take care of yourself, Sans . . . for his sake."
Sans' glare seemed to lighten up a little as he listened. Papyrus too? When would the two of them have even had the time to meet up with one another?
"Papyrus really loves you, Sans. He just wants you be okay."
Sans nodded slowly, letting out another long breath. When he spoke again, a little bit of the edge had waned and his tone was a little less heavy, "All the more reason to get some real rest in, don't you think? Maybe i'll go check in with gaster myself and then we'll see about the rest of the day. Good luck on your project, okay?"
Alphys nodded in turn, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"Thank you, Sans."
And with that, Sans turned the corner toward the elevators to go check in on Gaster . . . or rather check in with Gaster . . . or maybe it was both.
"damn, it seems like everyone has something wrong with them huh?" Sans muttered to himself as he pushed the "down" button.
Papyrus really was trying his best to take care of his brother, no matter what that would entail. The problem was that Papyrus really had no idea what he was supposed to do. What did brothers need? What did anyone need to be taken care of? Food? Sleep? To feel productive? Purpose? A sense of accomplishment? How many of these things could Papyrus give to Sans?
Especially with the looming scare of his HP slipping away.
Well, he could do one thing. He could be better prepared to protect Sans if there was ever a situation that would call for it.
Afraid for his brother's life, Papyrus decided to make good on that plan he was so set on earlier. One night, after Sans was sleeping, Papyrus quietly dressed and left the lab, his sights set on Waterfall and his thoughts set on finding Undyne. If he was going to protect Sans, whether it be from the humans or his own nightmares, Papyrus would have to get stronger. He knew no better person to help him with that than Undyne.
He waited outside of Undyne's house all night, even after she closed the door in his face . . . It was past midnight after all. She told him to go home, but Papyrus refused. Not until she agreed to train him so he could join the Royal Guard too. Papyrus never said his reason for wanting so badly to join the Royal Guard. But he remembered vividly what Sans told him when the two of them talked it over. He told Papyrus not to train because of him, but because it was what Papyrus wanted to do. And Papyrus supposed that this fell into the category of both. He wanted to train. He wanted to join the Royal Guard. He wanted to become stronger because he wanted to protect Sans in any way he could.
He never said any of this out loud. He never said it to Undyne even after she found him still waiting outside her door the next morning and, after seeing his complete devotion and dedication, she agreed to train him.
And he never told Sans.
When he wasn't training with Undyne, Papyrus found other ways to help Sans. He noticed that his brother still wasn't sleeping very well and he wanted to find a way to help with that as well. After a while of studying him, Papyrus learned that Sans tended to get even more drowsy than usual when he read over the paperwork at the end of the day. On more than one occasion, Papyrus would have to lift Sans from the desk and place him to rest on the mattress after he fell asleep while reading.
Papyrus decided to use this quirk to his advantage. Undyne mentioned, during one of their training sessions, that while fighting an enemy, the easiest way to bring them down was to find their weakness and use it against them. If it worked on enemies, why shouldn't it work on his brother as well? In this case, Papyrus wasn't fighting his own enemy, but Sans'. And he would find a way to rid his brother of his terrors by any means necessary. And after a while of trying, Papyrus finally seemed to find a routine that worked well for both of them.
Once a week, Papyrus would go to the Librarby to check out a new book. Then, every night that week, after his training with Undyne and after Sans was off of work, Papyrus would sit on the bed and pressure Sans into reading the book to him before going to sleep. Of course, Sans would oblige every time. As perpetually exhausted as he was now, Sans would only ever get partially through the book before he would drift off. The nights he would read to Papyrus, he actually tended to sleep pretty soundly and nightmare-free.
Most of the time.
But even Papyrus, as attentive as he was, was unable to be with Sans all the time. While he was out training with Undyne or finishing his map, someone had to be looking after Sans. Papyrus noticed that while he was out and working out, his own HP would drain because of the work and effort he put into doing a good job and to keeping up with Undyne. If Sans was working as hard in the lab, then his HP would drop in no time! And if his HP dropped too low while he was still working, he could potentially die . . . Papyrus couldn't allow that to happen.
One day, after the others had gone and Alphys was the only one left, Papyrus approached her as she was packing up to head home.
It took a moment or two, but eventually, Papyrus was able to find the right words to say to ask Alphys for her help. He asked for her to keep an eye on Sans. He explained that Sans was in a situation that required their help and that he would never ask them for that help, so it was up to them to give it to him . . . even he didn't come out and ask for it. At first, Alphys shrugged. Dr. Gaster had already asked her the same thing. To monitor Sans' behavior and report it to him. She already felt a little strange snooping on Sans at Gaster's request . . . but Papyrus too . . . Just what was wrong with Sans that it meritted both of them to come to her of all people for help?
Did it have to do with that thing she'd overheard that day . . . about Sans' HP?
"Please, Miss Alphys." Papyrus pressed for the tenth time, "He likes you the best of everyone . . . and quite honestly, so do I. As his friend, please help."
Eventually, at Papyrus' persistence and dedication to his brother's health, Alphys had agreed.
For a while, Papyrus' system seemed to work very well. Even after he and Sans had agreed to having separate rooms. At first, Papyrus seemed a little apprehensive about the idea. It would make it a bit more difficult to keep an eye on Sans and make sure he got to bed at a decent time. And if Sans did have nightmares, Papyrus wouldn't be able to get to him nearly as quickly, but he understood that Sans needed his own space. And in all honesty, so did Papyrus. That tiny room was starting to become cramped with the two of them in there.
But even after Papyrus had moved out and into a room a little further down the hallway, the routine still seemed to be working. Sans would still read stories to Papyrus and, even through his best efforts, he would end up falling asleep on Papyrus; his energy and his stamina would be completely spent. Papyrus would take Sans back to his room and get him to bed where he would sleep through the night.
Looking around the room on one such occasion, Papyrus noticed some things slightly different. There seemed to be a bit more room to move around and it looked as if Sans was being a little more organized with his clothing and his belongings. Even the sheets on his bed were stretched over the mattress in a way that actually made a little bit of sense! The only thing . . . was that pile of trash in the corner. He really should do something about that. The pile was steadily getting larger.
The desk was cleared and Sans' paperwork had been straightened up and filed away and the folders he had been using were piled neatly on the corner of the desk. Papyrus was genuinely surprised at the sight. But at least Sans was trying.
And for now, that would just have to do.
Even after all of the systems were put into place, and as time passed, it still didn't look as if Sans was getting any better. Even on the days when Sans would be able to sleep, he would still wake drowsy and lifeless. He would go to work as usual and do his best to assist Dr. Gaster and the others as best he could. He saw less and less of Gaster and more and more of the other assistants. Sans grew accustomed to Gaster working alone and came to anticipate other assignments. It didn't take a genius to know Gaster was working more on the souls just like the others had suspected . . . not that it was a secret anymore . . . and part of Sans was grateful that Gaster opted not to include him. Whether the decision had stemmed from his reaction at the address, or his disapproval to Gaster's dangerous experiments with the souls, Sans didn't know.
What Alphys said before about the souls making him sick . . . well, it wasn't entirely true . . . but she wasn't completely wrong either. It wasn't a real physical illness that was brought about by being near the souls . . . even though, at times, it did feel like it. Being anywhere near the souls caused Sans' own soul to vibrate harshly in his chest. His breath would become shallow and his chest would feel tight. It wasn't due to anything that the souls were doing. More, it was a product of Sans' own anxiety regarding them. It was a truly taxing cycle, so it was just better for Sans to be as far away from the souls as possible.
Most of Sans' energy those days went into keeping up his appearances, cracking a well-placed pun every once in a while and making it seem as if he had more energy than he actually did. Of course, if Gaster had been around, he would have been on to him from the start. Puns were Sans' defense mechanism. How he dealt with his own struggles and made light of the storm going on inside his own thoughts. It wasn't a new thing and many of the monsters were reminded of a time when it seemed all Sans did was tell terrible puns in an attempt to make someone anyone laugh, but that had been years ago!
Now, it seemed as if that side of Sans was back with a vengeance, slipping just as many puns and just as many terrible jokes as before . . . if not more.
And even if the other monsters didn't quite catch why Sans put on the act, they all did take notice of other things that seemed to be plaguing the Skeleton. Sans was noticeably beginning to lose his energy, mirth, and spark earlier and earlier in the work day. And by the time the lunch hour rolled around, Sans was running on empty. Instead of food, he would often spend his hour sleeping. And on the worst of these days, he wouldn't even make it back to work until another thirty minutes or an hour later than that. If the others were able to wake him at all, he would either fall asleep again within a minute or, if he made it back to his project, he would doze off in the middle of a task.
Once or twice, the result of this was nearly catastrophic. Beakers of unknown or corrosive solutions would overflow while he was mixing ingredients or he would leave the Bunsen burner going. Once, while he was teetering with his awareness and flirting with sleep while he was helping with a project, he dropped a glass petri dish of an unidentified mold, causing thick black spores to erupt from the growth. The entire wing had to be shut down and he and Ruddard had to be quarantined for the entire night while the rest of them figured out whether or not the spores the two of them inhaled were toxic.
News traveled that perhaps Sans was no longer fit to work in the lab- that maybe the job had finally gotten to him. Whether it was out of concern or out of spite, the other assistants decided it was best to voice their opinions on the matter directly to Dr. Gaster. After all, since Gaster had been working alone on most of his projects lately, he had not witnessed the decline in Sans' productivity. Or how dangerous he had become to himself as well as the others.
One day, while travelling the halls, Gaster was approached by two of his assistants. He recognized them as Gaine, the tall cat-like monster and Maltez, the shorter monster whose eyes were wide and seemingly unblinking.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Gaster greeted with a tilt of his head. "Shouldn't you two be working on your assignments? Gaine, you were with Sans today, weren't you? Where is he?"
"Actually, Dr. Gaster," Gaine responded, unable to hide the slight smirk to his expression. "That's why we wanted to talk to you."
Gaster raised a brow. "Is that so?"
Gaine and Maltez nodded in unison. "You see," Maltez continued, "Recently, Serif has been . . . lethargic. He's absent-minded, delirious, and dreary. He's falling asleep on the job and taking long lunches. Sometimes, we are unable to wake him at all. Many of us are starting to worry. It's truly concerning and we're afraid something terrible may happen if this keeps up."
Gaster let his eyes close as he took in the information. When the assistants were finished, he nodded slowly. "I see. And you thought it was best to bring it to my attention?"
Maltez nodded, "Serif is one of us. If he's not well, we want to make sure the right people know."
"How very noble of you both. And here I thought you were here merely to tattle."
At the time, Gaster had shrugged with a bit of a smile, but the smirk in Gaine's expression fell slightly nonetheless. It was a pointed jab at the assistant and his underlying intent. Of course, Gaine had expected Gaster to think along those lines. After all, Serif was the doc's little pet. Any negativity toward him would be seen as an attack, especially if it came from him . . . which was why Gaine thought it best to bring Maltez along.
"No, Sir." Maltez chimed, playing his part brilliantly. "Of course not. We were just worried and thought you would like to know."
Gaster nodded again, "And where is he now?"
"In the break room." Gaine answered with a single hand in his pocket as he clutched his clipboard to his side. "We haven't been able to wake him for the past two hours. This is the longest he's ever been out."
Gaster let out a breath and his mouth shut to a thin slit as he seemingly contemplating the next course of action. Perhaps Sans' decline was something he'd been expecting.
"Take me to him."
Gaine and Maltez nod again in unison and turn to lead Gaster through the halls.
In the wide and brightly lit room past the atrium, on the couches furthest from the door, past the tables, a single monster lay curled on his side with his back facing the door.
Gaine and Maltez had long-since given up on trying to wake him and have left him alone. Now, Baelin and Ruddard stood over him while Alphys tried to gently shake him awake or sit him up in hopes of getting him to respond. Of course, none of her efforts were doing any good. Sans was still unresponsive.
As Gaster approached, the others were sure to give him room and when he touched Alphys on the shoulder, she flinched in surprise, shooting a quick look over her shoulder. Doctor Gaster gave her a curt nod and immediately, Alphys moved aside.
Everyone stood around in a wide semi-circle as Gaster leaned over. The doctor examined his assistant, trying to assess the cause of this . . . whatever this was. If the others were unable to wake Sans . . . what did that mean? He hadn't turned to dust . . . so that was a good sign, right?
Sitting the smaller Skeleton up and supporting him in one arm, Gaster laid the other hand atop his skull. He focused his magic intently in that hand and sent a small bit of that magic through Sans' sleeping form.
He hadn't done anything like this in decades. It was a technique Gaster had developed in order to gently wake Corbel when he had troubling nightmares. After the boy passed, he'd even used it once or twice to ease Nyala's soul and get her to rest when she wasn't able to find it on her own.
Essentially, what he was doing was searching Sans' body for his magical signature. Each monster had their own frequency and Gaster would atune to that signature, boosting it with his own and gently coaxing them awake. Or, in the case of the reverse, he would calm the magic and soothe the soul to relax the target monster and lull them to sleep.
The others stood around, trying to contain their curiosity. The closest any of them had ever seen to this was healing, but this . . . this was different.
After a few moments had passed, a bit of a frown passed over Gaster's face.
Something in Sans made him difficult to synch with. The magic within Sans was extremely faint and it felt like it could have been a burning ember, barely grasping on to the last dregs of heat before being snuffed out completely. Just that thought alone was enough to frighten Gaster and shake his nerves, but even beyond that, there was another issue. Even after Gaster had been able to locate the dimming glow of Sans' magic, it felt . . . somehow . . . distant. Like he wouldn't be able to reach it no matter how much he reached for it. It was almost like something was blocking the magic from his persuasion.
What the hell . . . ?
It took a bit longer than Gaster would have wanted, but eventually, he was able to match his own frequency to Sans' and within a few minutes of that moment, Gaster had been able to boost that frequency enough that it caused a difference in the Skeleton in his arms.
At first, it was just a twitch of the finger, then a change to his expression as he frowned deeply through the transition. Eventually, Sans let out a groan as his whole posture changed. He rolled his shoulders back in a stretch as he drew in a long breath, letting it out as a yawn.
The other assistants allowed themselves to breathe and it turned into a general collective sigh of relief.
That caught Sans' attention immediately. What the hell?
He opened his eyes into slits. Why was everyone gathered around him . . . ?
What was Gaster doing here . . . ?
Why was Gaster holding him like a child . . . ?
Why did he feel so warm? It was usually just above freezing in the break room.
"Hey, guys . . ." Sans groaned, stifling another yawn, "What's going on? What'd I miss?"
That warm feeling steadily dissipated as he felt himself wake up more and more. All of it seemed to be migrating to the top of his head until, finally, a hand was lifted and it was gone completely.
Wait . . . so did that mean . . . why was he being healed?
"gaster?" Sans asked slowly when no one answered, "What happened?"
"Sans." Gaster answered evenly as he released his assistant and stood completely. "I need you to come with me to my office. Can you stand?"
"'course." Sans answered, already shifting to comply. Instantly, he noted that his legs were not nearly as obedient as he wanted them to be and they almost gave out on him as he stood.
Why the heck was everyone staring at him?
And what was with that look Alphys was wearing? Like she'd turned in a red ribbon science fair project when she'd been hoping for blue.
"Good." Gaster nodded as he led the way past the others and toward the door, "I'm afraid this is urgent."
Sans followed, his confused frown never letting up. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall that a bit of the puzzle fell into place.
Had it really been three hours since they'd gone on their lunch break!? Oh, damn . . .
And no one had waken him up!? Why didn't they wake him up before going directly to Gaster?
As he passed, he noted the slightly smug look in Gaine's eye, subtle enough, but still there . . . Of course it was Gaine.
The trip to Gaster's office was silent. The doctor didn't utter a single word as he led the way and Sans was left to wonder what was in store for him. Gaster said that it was urgent. That alone was enough to leave a bit of a bitter taste in Sans' mouth and all he could do was speculate.
It wasn't until they'd made it to the office and after Gaster had closed and sealed the door behind them that there seemed to be any change. Gaster lowered his head as he made his way to his desk, behind pillars of paper and took a seat. He let out a steadying breath.
"Please, Sans." He sighed, "Have a seat."
With a quick look around, Sans quickly tried to analyze the situation.
Gaster didn't just lock the door. He completely sealed it. Nothing was getting in or out unless he said so . . . That included sound as well . . .
This was serious.
Sans decided to play it off. Some distant part of him thought that maybe if he could make light of it at all, it wouldn't be so bad.
"Nah, doc." He shrugged, though his expression hadn't changed much. "I'm good."
Gaster was studying him now as he leaned his elbows on the desk in front of him. His hands were clasped in front of him and his eyes were focused intently on him.
"Suit yourself." Gaster nodded. He seemed to be contemplating what he wanted to say. Or rather, how he wanted to say what he needed to.
This entire thing wasn't sitting well with Sans. He really didn't like the look Gaster was giving him or the mild hesitation in his words. And the fact that he hadn't dropped the professional authoritative air even after the door had been sealed didn't help improve the mood at all.
Eventually, Gaster lowered his clasped hands to the desk and he let out another long breath.
"How long have you worked for me, Sans?"
The question caught Sans slightly off guard and he tilted his head slightly. This had to do with his employment?
"doc . . . ?"
"Just answer the question."
"Um . . ." Sans shrugged, "About seven- maybe eight years now . . . ? wait . . . doc, you're . . . not going to fire me, are you?"
Gaster hung his head, breaking eye contact with the subordinate.
That was confirmation enough. But . . . Gaster COULDN'T fire him, could he!? He hadn't done anything . . . really bad, right? Maybe if he'd been a little more alert . . . or if he hadn't dropped that petri dish . . .
Sans felt his heart sink. This was happening all because he fell asleep!? All because he was tired!?
"doc, no! I mean, i know that i've goofed up a bit recently, but you know me better than that, right!? you know I can still do this job!"
"Relax, Sans." Gaster sighed, "I'm not going to fire you. You've never given me reason to doubt you. You've been diligent and hard-working and I doubt that this place would be anywhere near where it is without you. I know several projects that would never have been completed if not for your help."
Sans lowered his gaze, still contemplating.
"Then . . . where are you going with this, gaster?"
"In all that time, have you ever taken time off? A vacation? And not just scheduled days off when the lab was closed. Because I've seen you work straight through the closures before. Have you ever just taken a break?"
Sans thought it over for a few moments. In all of the time he'd been living at the lab and helping Gaster, there really had been no desire to go anywhere. And if he wasn't going anywhere, may as well be productive, right?
"Well, maybe not. But that's okay! I'm fine!"
"No, Sans . . ." Gaster hesitated, musing over the information, "You're really not . . . Eight years . . . Such a long time. I'm sorry, Sans. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."
Sans frowned, "See what now?"
"Just now, in the break room. What do you think just happened?"
Sans shrugged. "I fell asleep. That's all . . . I . . . didn't wake up on time, and I'm sorry about that, but—"
Gaster shook his head solemnly, "Sans, you really have no idea, do you? You can't feel it?"
"Feel what!? gaster, what are you talking about!?"
Gaster unclasped his hands and raised a palm toward Sans. Sans noted that the hole in Gaster's hand seemed a bit larger now than it did the last time he saw the doctor.
Sans knew what was coming and he inwardly groaned, dropping his hands to his sides, as not to hinder the inspection.
"Fine just go ahead." Sans answered.
But when Gaster CHECKED him this time, what they saw nearly stopped them both. Gaster flinched, his fingers curling slightly and Sans' expression fell even more, his heart bottoming out somewhere in his gut.
Sleeping Is rumored to be able to restore HP beyond the Max limit. When Alphys had told Gaster that Sans was choosing to sleep during his lunch breaks instead of eating meals, Gaster expected that to be the reason. It was kind of ingenious, actually. That way, he would be able to continue work without so much worry.
But after three hours of sleep, with such a low Max, he should be much higher than 0.5/3. Shouldn't he?
"what the hell?" Sans muttered, "that doesn't make sense."
"You weren't sleeping in the break room today. Sleep might have been your intent, but . . . the others tried for hours to wake you when it was time to resume work. And they told me that not one of them was able to get you to respond. I had to step in as a last resort, but even I couldn't . . . Sans, we nearly lost you today. When I tried to wake you . . . what I could feel of your magic. Sans, it wasn't good."
Sans' eyes went dead. "what did you see?"
"Don't worry," Gaster answered, releasing Sans' stats and letting his hand rest again on the desk in front of him. His eyes were lowered to stare intensely at the wood. "I was only looking to help boost your magic to wake you up. I know better to search for something so private as another monster's soul. But we're getting off point. Sans, your magic is nearly completely spent. If the others hadn't come to find me when they did, I doubt you would have survived the day."
Sans felt his hands tighten into fists as he clutched at the hems to his coat. Suddenly that offer to sit sounded a lot more inviting. Sans made his way to one of the two chairs across from where Gaster sat, taking the seat and letting the news sink in.
Once he was seated, Gaster continued. "Of course you know that a monster's soul and a monster's magic are not interchangable, though they are directly linked. You know that as we sleep, it is our magic that restores our HP, right?"
Sans nodded.
"Our magic fuels our souls like a battery . . . and if that battery dies . . . so do we." Gaster raised his eyes to once again watch Sans.
"Eight years . . ." Gaster repeated, "You've been working for eight years straight and in that time, I've almost completely drained you . . . Sans . . . I'm so sorry I never noticed. Right now, your magic is so low. And it had nearly gone out completely today in the breakroom. And if you are trying to use what little magic you have, to refill your HP, that's a surefire way to run yourself into an early grave. You're still so young, Sans. This world needs you around for a while longer at least. But unfortunately, you realize that I cannot allow you to keep working in your condition. Until we can find a way to stabilize not only your HP now, but your magic as well, and find a way to regulate it so that you know how to prevent future episodes like what happened today, you cannot continue to work. It carries far too much risk."
Sans hung his head. So he was being fired . . . just not in those words. Perhaps "let go" was better, "laid off"?
"I really am very sorry," Gaster continued, "but effective immediately . . . your employment here is suspended. Until we can figure this out, I don't want to see you working on anything that has to do with this lab or the projects here. In fact, I don't want to see you here during work hours."
There it was.
"Suspended . . ." Sans repeated the word out loud in a low voice. "But . . . I can't go." He argued, his tone not rising above a mutter, like perhaps, he was speaking more to himself than to Gaster, "I need this job. If I can't . . . then I . . . I have nowhere else to go."
"Now, I can't see that being true at all." Gaster answered with a bit of a shrug. As serious as the conversation was, there was a bright side to it. Now, just to get Sans to see it too. "Surely you had hobbies and friends before you came here. Haven't you been in contact with them? If not, you should rekindle those friendships. Find time to catch up. Sound familiar?"
Sans sighed. It was the same speech he'd been giving Gaster for years, trying to get him out of the lab. The last thing he'd expected was to hear it repeated back at him. The difference here, being that Gaster was Sans' boss with the power to suspend him from work. After today, after he left this room, whether or not he wanted to, he wasn't allowed to ignore the direct order and return to work like Gaster had done every single time Sans had given him the speech.
"Cheer up, Sans." Gaster tried again, fishing for something in his desk. "Look at it this way. What we're doing is giving you the opportunity to rest. Let your magic recharge. Once you're feeling up to it, we'll bring you back on board. What this really is, is a vacation. But if we were to call it that, I know at least one person who would be a little upset. If what you told me is true, Gaine seems to be suspecting favoritism, is that true?"
When Sans looked back up to Gaster, the doctor was wearing a small smile. In his fingers, he held a couple of small candies. After all, Sans was still at 0.5 HP. And if he was unable to rely on his own magic to heal him, he would have to use food as a supplement . . . at least until he could build up his own magic again.
Sans nodded as he reached out to accept one of the hard candies, "that's what he said."
"So, after what happened today . . . after what's been happening recently . . . if you're on 'vacation' or even on a 'medical leave of absence,' I'd never hear the end of it . . . but if you were 'suspended' it might calm him down a bit."
Sans couldn't help the smirk that pulled at him then. He gave Gaster a slow clap of approval, "Good one, doc." He said with a bit of a chuckle, "Very clever."
"Of course that also means that you will be unable to continue your surveillance of him and whatever prosepects he might be seeking. What we'll need is someone who can continue for you while you recover."
Sans shook his head with a little bit of a smile that hadn't been there before, "So, not only are you suspending me, but now you want to replace me too? And you want me to pick my own replacement? How am I supposed to feel about that?"
Sans opened the candy, a hard raspberry carbonated confection that immediately started to fizz in his mouth. But aside from the strange sensation, Sans did notice the magic at work inside of him. And within seconds, his HP had been maxed out.
Gaster took the other candy for himself, and made short work of the wrapper before eating his as well. The effect wasn't nearly as dramatic for him and it only filled up a small portion of his HP, but it tasted good, if nothing else.
"Don't be ridiculous." Gaster scoffed, relieved that the mood had finally shifted. "In a way, it's a lot like choosing your own apprentice. Say you were in my shoes and you were looking for someone to help you in your work. Someone you can trust to carry on for you when you can't be around. You have your list of candidates and you know their strengths and weaknesses. Who do you think will be the best suited for the job?"
Sans quieted for a second, thinking it over. After a moment or two, the answer seemed to be clear. They were all good candidates and they were all great workers, he could really only trust one of them.
And judging by the rolled up blueprints and abnormally large binder pushed off to the corner of Gaster's desk, he was thinking along the same lines.
"Why do I get the feeling you've already chosen and you just wanted some kind of confirmation from me before you went through with it?"
Gaster followed Sans' gaze to the blueprints, "You really are very observant."
Sans nodded, "I'm sure she'll be great. Just . . . don't tell her it's a secret. You should present it to her like a regular project. She's really terrible at covert operations."
Gaster chuckled to himself, shaking his head and letting his eyes slide shut for a moment.
"Noted."
"Well, if there's nothing else, I really should get a jump on being 'suspended'. Maybe I'll take Paps over to Grillbys and see what's goin' on over that way."
Sans sighed as he stood and shoved his hands in the pockets of his kakhi slacks. He turned toward the door as another thought entered his thoughts.
"Is there any way to know whenabouts I'll be allowed to come back?"
"How about you focus on something besides coming to work for a while. You need to focus on you and then we'll see about bringing you back."
"Evasive and nondescript as usual. What happens if I can't come back? What happens if this is something that can't be fixed?"
Gaster stood as well with a bit of a sigh of his own. The thought had crossed his mind before, but there was no use in dwelling on that when they hadn't tried everything yet.
As he crossed back to the other side of the room, to unseal the door for Sans, he brought the remainder of the bag of candy over with him. Sans would get more use out of them than he would.
"IF there is no reversing this." Gaster answered, handing off the bag of candy, "IF this happens to be your new normal, and that is a big 'if', then, that will be something we will work with. But that means that you will have to adjust too. Is that something you would be able to handle?"
Sans shrugged. "I'll have to."
With that, Gaster unsealed the door. Leading Sans out.
"Now, I'm sure you'll get a lot of questions after that exit."
"Don't worry, doc. I can handle it." Sans answered smoothly with a bit of a smirk. For a bit of an added effect, he removed his lab coat and handed it off to Gaster along with his keycard. He'd get them back from him later . . . maybe. "As of this moment, I'm officially on suspension."