AN: I can't believe it's already been two MONTHS since the last update! It's been kinda crazy . . . again. Life and everything keeps getting in the way. I've got a new job, moved to a new city and graduated college! It's been a crazy two months!
During that time, I've been writing when I can and I've gotten almost everything done! This story is almost over! I can't believe it! I may cry!
Please enjoy this final chapter! There will be an epilogue coming soon.
Thank you all for your continued support!
Chapter 18
Dark, Darker, Yet Darker
"gaster, no!"
But the doctor only smiled as he fell from sight and into the flames. The resulting flash of light was nearly blinding. Just like with Gaine, the light gave off a certain life of its own. It inhabited the immediate area for only a second before it blinked from existence, taking the last of Gaster with it.
Instantly and simultaneously, Sans' body fell numb as the walls disappeared from around him. When the feeling returned, it was as if he'd emerged from the light itself, completely unharmed and intact as he stood on unstable legs on the other side of the automatic sliding doors that had been pried open. He still had a perfect view of the room beyond . . . or . . . what used to be the room beyond.
Now, instead, there was nothing left but an empty area and a bottomless pit. A walkway that dead-ended to nothing. To a room full of fire and a seemingly endless abyss.
Something deep and urgent called out to him at the sight and it gripped tightly to the strings of his soul, coaxing him forward toward the vast emptiness. That's where Gaster had been, where the others had fallen.
He stepped forward, obeying the call.
"gaster . . . ?" he whispered as he approached the edge. There were no more tremors and no more quakes. Everything was finally quiet and finally still.
But none of that mattered to Sans, he didn't care about the tremors, he didn't care about the quakes. He didn't even care about the room.
" . . . gaster." he repeated. Again, the word refused to leave his mouth as anything but a quiet whisper.
He stood at the very edge of the walkway where it dead-ended and he looked downward into the blackness beneath.
It made no sense! Gaster had been right there! He'd fallen from right here! Along with the entire room! Along with Gaine, Maltez, Baelin, and Ruddard! All of them!
So where had they gone!?
There was no sign of any of them. There was no . . . anything.
Just blackness . . . and fire.
Though the physical feeling had returned to him since he had been teleported, he still felt numb in every other regard, except for a large and excruciatingly painful hole that had been ripped open inside of him. He gripped tightly at his chest and he felt as if something inside of him was about to implode on itself. His eyes were wide and empty. His heart . . . his soul was wide and empty.
He was . . . empty.
And Gaster . . .
Gaster was . . .
And he had been the one to . . . if he hadn't shot that blaster . . . then maybe he wouldn't have been so close to the edge and maybe he wouldn't have fallen.
Maybe Gaster would still be there . . .
Once again, as he looked to the gaping flaming pit where Gaster had been. Sans' vision began to swirl and he felt as if he was going to be sick.
"why, doc!?" Sans whispered to himself. "why the hell would you do something like that!?"
It wasn't worth it! He wasn't worth it!
His whispers turned into cries. "i could've helped you! it didn't have to be like this! we could have gotten out together!"
The fire crackled as the area seemed to stabilize, but there was no other response. It wasn't as if Sans was expecting an answer . . . but it would have been . . .
It would have been what? Nice? Comforting?
Sans stood, looking over the edge in silence . . . maybe he was expecting something a little more than just that. He knew what he wanted and some naïve part of him was still foolishly hoping that maybe Gaster had somehow grabbed onto some craggy part of the edge- that he was somehow able to save himself- that he would suddenly pull himself back into view and they could still make it out.
But that was impossible . . . Gaster had been on the far side of the other room. The room that had been at the end of the walkway . . . If he'd fallen, there would have been no way for him to make it all the way back to this point.
Unless . . .
Well, Sans had traveled that far, hadn't he? And that had been thanks to Gaster's teleportation! Gaster still could have teleported!
There was a creaking sound that pulled on Sans' senses. Immediately, he turned, whipping his attention back over his shoulder.
"gaster!?" He called hopefully. There was even a slight pull at his smile at the thought that maybe the doctor could have been there.
But, of course, when he turned there was nothing- just an empty space and the walkway leading out of the CORE.
No doctor. No familiar face, cracked or otherwise.
Damn it! He was such an idiot, thinking that the doctor would have come to him just like that. Just because he wanted him to be there.
He'd watched him fall. He saw when the flames consumed him. He'd even seen the flash of light when the last of the doctor had vanished. Surely, that light had been his soul being snuffed out- glowing brilliantly for a split second before being smothered completely.
". . . gaster . . ."
That sick feeling was back and he could feel it as the familiar sting in his eyes made itself known once again. His throat closed in on itself and his chest seized.
There had to be something he could do! Something he hadn't tried! Something that could still save the doctor . . . to save them all!
He wouldn't accept that the entire team . . . everyone he cared about . . . every single one of them was gone! He couldn't!
He could feel his magic flowing . . . flickering, dying . . . with what little bit he had left, he had to try! This would be his only opportunity. If he didn't do it now, if he couldn't find them now . . . there really would be no way to save them.
Ruddard! Gaine! Maltez! Baelin! Gaster! They were counting on him! If they could still be saved . . .
His magic sparked. A violent shock ran through his whole body.
"no!"
He tried again, and his magic fizzled before he could even summon it- the sound of static hissed in his ears.
That swirling in his vision got even worse and his head felt light and incredibly heavy all at once.
He was out of magic. Anything more would drain on the tiny bit of life energy he had . . .
"no, damn it!" He raged, "Not now!"
He cried out, trying a final time to summon a bit of his blue magic. He could use it to sense for the others and pull them out! He was the only one left! It was up to him to save them! He was determined to find them and to bring them back.
There wasn't even static when he tried his magic. Just . . . nothing. A great well of nothing. He couldn't even call on his reserves.
He had no reserves. It was all gone.
They were all gone.
He'd failed . . . every one of them . . .
They had been counting on him . . . and he . . .
He let them . . .
He had to go! He had to distance himself . . . he had to leave . . . he had to get away.
Sans backed away slowly from the scene, the shock still not passing for him. His unstable legs barely carried him backward. He was only just able to focus past the fog clouding his thoughts and his entire body, which was fighting against him with every step.
He had to get out. He had to go . . . somewhere. Away from here. Away from the CORE.
Away from this tomb.
He continued to stumble, turning his back and leaving the room, using the walls as support. He stepped onward, through the doors and out toward the rest of Hotland.
He could let himself fall here. He didn't care. He could give up completely. There was nothing left. No one left. His entire life, his whole family. All of it . . . it was just gone.
No . . . that wasn't true.
What about him?
The one who wanted so badly for him to live. The one who went so far as to break the laws of nature to revive him?
"papyrus . . ."
He needed to find Papyrus.
That thought was enough to keep him stumbling onward even when he had no more support and nothing left to guide him. Just knowing that he would find Papyrus gave him a little sliver of hope.
He and Alphys were supposed to be setting up a safe area.
That's right, Alphys was there too.
Man . . . how was he supposed to break the news to them . . . ?
That one thought plagued his thoughts until his tired eyes were able to pick up on a white blur in the distance. In the four-way cross outside of the entrance to the lab, there was a sort of canopy set up. A tarp set erect by poles to create a tent of sorts. Beneath it, were several chairs and a plastic table laden with tools and supplies and food.
And on the ground in front of the table, were little blurs of color. One thin and lanky and very pale, the other, shorter and more stout and very yellow. They lay unmoving on the ground.
"alphys?" Sans muttered, "papyrus!?"
He rushed forward, recognizing the blobs and instantly going into panic mode once again. What happened!? Why had they both been knocked down? HOW had they both been knocked down!?
He couldn't lose them too! Not now! Not after all of this! He just couldn't!
He approached the canopy as quickly as his legs would carry him. He had to get to the others! They had to be okay! He had to make sure they were okay!
He nearly fell when he reached them. He was so spent. His entire body felt as if it could give out on him at any second. But he had to check on his only two remaining friends. Once he was sure they were okay . . . then he could rest.
Alphys was curled on her side as if she'd only fallen asleep. Her glasses were still on and askew and there was something tightly gripped in her hand as if she was afraid she'd lose it. A cell phone . . . but it wasn't hers. Gaster's phone . . .
He must have left it behind when they'd gone back to the CORE. So had she picked it up with hopes of returning it when . . . when he came back?
Oh god . . . how was he going to tell her that Gaster was never coming back . . . ? That no one was ever coming back?
That hole in his chest seemed to pulsate and grow larger while simultaneously trying to constrict and suffocate him. He clutched again at the fabric of his shirt.
It just hurt so damn much!
Gaster had just been so accepting of it all too! How!? Why!? Why had he been smiling!? Didn't he know he was about to die!? Did he know how much he was about to hurt Sans? The doctor had lost family before! Didn't he know how this felt!? Didn't he know!?
Of course he knew! And he went and died anyway! He willingly fell into the CORE! He had a chance! He had the opportunity! He had Sans! They could have made it together! They could both be here now, checking on Alphys and Papyrus . . . He would've already known what happened to them! He would have already been able to do an analysis on them to determine how they ended up like this . . . He would have made sure they were okay and comfortable already.
And he wouldn't have been this distracted while doing it! He wouldn't have let something like this get in the way of being the doctor he was.
Sans focused again on Alphys, trying to push his previous thought trail off to concentrate fully on her.
She didn't seem to be injured and she didn't seem to be in any kind of pain. It was as if she'd just simply laid down and had gone to sleep. She was still breathing, so that was a good sign at least. But as to how long she would be out, Sans couldn't even begin to speculate.
And then there was Papyrus.
Just a few feet away, Papyrus had fallen face-down as if he had been trying to crawl toward something. He was just as motionless as Alphys and just as unresponsive. His arm was outstretched as he reached for something just ahead.
A clipboard was lying just out of reach.
Stumbling forward, Sans attempted to focus on the thing Papyrus had written on the clip board.
It was a drawing . . . an old one. Sans remembered seeing it a long time ago in those days before Papyrus started on his map of the Underground.
Why was it here now? What could have driven Papyrus to dig it out now of all times.
On the paper, were three figures, quite obviously meant to represent Papyrus' family as he saw it.
In his case, the figures strongly resembled Papyrus himself, and the other two were his brother, Sans, and . . . Doctor Gaster. Even then, Papyrus had been wrestling with the thought of the doctor being his father. And really, he had been correct. In every aspect of his life, past and present, Gaster had always been Papyrus' father figure.
And if Sans was honest with himself . . . the same could be said about him.
Gaster had been the only father he'd ever known. Even before he'd come to the Underground. Even before he'd lost his mother. His memories were very sketchy from around that time. Most of his life, he'd been alone, but at least with his mother, he had a face and the faint memory of a voice.
When he thought about his father . . . there was . . . nothing. He had no one. No face, no voice . . . not even a name.
He had Gaster. He had been the only one who had ever shown any real interest in him or his well-being. He had taken him in and cared for him without a second's hesitation. On several different occasions, he had saved him when he had been so close to death. Gaster had been so much more than a colleague. He had been so much more than a mentor or a teacher or a boss or even a friend.
Gaster . . . had been like a dad to him.
. . . And now . . .
. . . damn it . . . he couldn't see anymore through the blurry and burning tears. They were starting up again. And his throat tightened again as well, to the point it even hurt to breathe. He'd never even had the chance to tell Gaster how much he meant to him! Not even there at the end as he was falling to his death. He couldn't tell him. He couldn't even say the word. Not even once.
Sans looked again at the drawing and back down to the unconscious form of his brother. Again, Sans wondered how he was going to break the news. For Papyrus, though, it was different. Gaster actually had been his father . . . and inside of Papyrus, there was a little boy who would have to endure that pain as well.
Sans reached out to gently touch the top of Papyrus' skull.
"your pops really did love you, you know that?" He whispered to the other, "every day. everything he did, he had you in mind."
There was a slight pull on his mind, a sort of call. It wasn't quite a voice . . . more of a feeling.
"Not just him." It pushed, "You too."
Sans shook his head, trying to push back on the thought. How selfish could he be? This wasn't about him. This was about Gaster and everything he'd left behind.
"Yes, including you. Don't forget, I loved you too."
Again, Sans gasped, turning his head over his shoulder. Of course there was no one there. There was no one anywhere. What had he been expecting?
But . . . that pull . . . it said . . . "I loved you."
It used the word "I" not "he".
Sans hung his head, the clipboard falling from his fingers.
He'd reached his wit's end. There was nothing more he could give. Nothing more that he could hold back.
Sans broke down completely, not even bothering to cover his face as his raw emotion spilled over once again, more forceful and more furiously than ever.
"dad." He cried. Why the hell would the word come to him now! Of all times! When he wasn't even around to hear it! Why couldn't he have said it to him once?
Just once . . .
". . . dad, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry i-i never . . . "
He doubled over on himself, curled in a tightly wound ball.
"you meant so much to me! more than you know . . . more than you ever knew . . . because i didn't mention it . . . you were . . . the most . . . the best a guy like me could ever hope for! and i never told you . . . i didn't say a damned thing . . . and now . . ."
'You said it now. That's enough.'
"now!? now it's too late!"
Sans fell, but never uncurled himself. He stayed in that position for a long time, unwilling to move. As hopelessness took over, he simply gave in, sobbing seemingly uncontrollably. Unstopping.
He kept telling himself that he needed to rest, however, no matter what he did . . . or didn't do, he couldn't find that kind of calm. As Papyrus and Alphys continued to sleep, Sans remained awake as the guilt of what he'd just survived weighed over him.
That weight seemed tangible and heavy like someone had laid a thick blanket over him.
How silly it was for Sans to think that maybe it could have been him . . .
When his eyes opened, it was as if he was trying to focus through a fog. Everything was so blurry and out of focus, but Papyrus was determined to make sense of it all.
He'd need to figure it out. Quickly, if he could. Where was he? How had he ended up outside . . . and on the ground? How long had he been asleep? Why had he been asleep?
What was that sound? It sounded like breathing, but somehow, it was short and ragged sounding. There was a shuddering that went along with it. Someone was obviously and audibly upset and trying to calm themselves.
Papyrus squinted in an attempt to focus enough to identify the figure curled next to him. It was another Skeleton! A smaller one . . . who seemed not to be doing very well. He was the one who was breathing so haphazardly.
"Um . . . excuse me." Papyrus began, shifting himself to sit up, "You seem to be very upset. You should take slow and even breaths. It will do wonders for you, I'm sure."
The other Skeleton started for a second, taking the time to refocus his thoughts before he moved again.
"oh . . . p-papyrus . . . you're awake, huh bro?"
Papyrus halted. That name. Yes . . . it was his. That felt about right.
But the other Skeleton . . .
He'd used another name too . . . "bro" that was his too, wasn't it?
"I suppose I am!" Papyrus responded with only the slightest hesitation.
"thank goodness." The other Skeleton sighed, "you had me really worried there for a sec! i-i don't think i could've handled it if . . . well . . . i'm just glad you're back."
"Back . . . ?" Papyrus hummed, "Did I go somewhere?"
It wasn't meant to be funny, and he wasn't trying to sound naïve. It was an honest question. He couldn't remember and he didn't know what was real or what had been imagined.
About all he knew for sure that his name was Papyrus, he had very recently been asleep . . .
. . . and this other Skeleton was still very upset. He had been crying. That's why his breath was so haggard . . . he still had tears staining his face as he tried to situate himself enough to face and converse with Papyrus. His eyes were dark and sunken- even for a Skeleton- and he seemed to be wearing a perpetual smile. That smile, however seemed strained, contrasting starkly with the rest of his troubled expression.
The sight pulled sharply on Papyrus' emotions for some reason. Already, he hated the feeling he got because of it. This Skeleton before him meant a lot to him- he knew that inherently. And he should be smiling genuinely or not at all. That was the rule he'd just come up with.
"i guess you didn't actually go anywhere." He answered in response to Papyrus' question, "you and alphys were out here preparing . . . f-for the others . . . f-for when . . ."
He choked again, immediately turning his face away to hide the new tears. This was obviously something very difficult for him to discuss.
"Did something bad happen?" Papyrus asked in earnest curiosity.
The other Skeleton sighed again in an attempt to calm himself before he answered. Even when he did answer, he was unable to form a complete sentence and instead nodded his answer.
Eventually, he was able to put his thoughts into words ". . . i'm afraid . . . i've got some bad news, paps."
As he spoke, there was more movement off to the side as someone else stirred near them. A small-ish yellow monster shifted. She adjusted her glasses and sat up, trying her voice.
"Ugh, what happened?" She groaned, "How did I . . . Where am I?"
"'mornin' al." The smaller Skeleton answered lifelessly, "actually, you should hear this too. it'll be better to tell you both at once."
This "Al" person flinched at the unexpected voice and she turned to face the other two. When she did, she adjusted her glasses to get a better look at them. Even with her glasses, she still needed to squint to focus properly. Perhaps her vision was clouded like Papyrus' had been when he woke up.
"Oh . . . h-hello." She stammered, nervously, "I don't believe we've . . . d-do we know each other?"
The Skeleton's face instantly fell. "haha, not funny, alphys." He groaned sarcastically, "this is actually really serious. i've got something i need to tell you . . . and it's not gonna be easy to hear."
But when Alphys' expression didn't change from her shock and confusion, the Skeleton's unamused expression did. The look on his face now was somewhere between fear and incredulity.
"you're not joking are you?"
"You do seem familiar." Alphys admitted, "B-but, I'm sorry. Your name has- has slipped my mind."
"c'mon, al! it's me! we've worked together for years! you know me!"
"I-I'm terribly sorry." Alphys said again.
The Skeleton shook his head, drawing in another breath. In the next instant, he sat bolt right, a thought shooting through his mind.
"but then . . . what about you?" and he turned toward Papyrus, that same fear in his eyes, "You remember me, don't you? Do you know me?"
Papyrus wanted to answer instantly, to assure him and set his mind at ease for the moment. However, he was unable to do that.
He did know the other Skeleton. He knew him deep within his soul, but like Alphys had said, he didn't remember the other's name.
"Don't think, Papyrus. Just say it."
"You're my . . . brother."
The other Skeleton nodded, "yes . . . ?" he prodded.
Papyrus could only shake his head.
The other hung his head again in response, "no . . ." he muttered, "that makes no sense . . . what happened to you guys? how could you possibly have forgotten . . . ? it's me! sans!"
That name! Yes! Papyrus remembered the name! That name he'd called ever since his memories began. The name rang truer to him than even his own name.
"Sans!" Papyrus repeated with such conviction, "Sans the Skeleton! My brother!"
That perked Sans up once again with a tiny glimmer of hope.
"you do remember! papyrus! yes!"
But Alphys shook her head again, "The name does sound familiar . . . but . . ."
"well, what about ruddard? maltez? gaine!?"
Alphys continued to shake her head.
"not even baelin!? you two were close! you were friends!"
Alphys shook her head, "Those names d-don't sound familiar at all. Th-this is very troubling."
"heh, you're tellin' me!" Sans scoffed, "well, what about gaster!? the doc? you can't have forgotten him!"
Alphys remained silent, trying very hard to remember. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing came to mind.
Sans turned again toward Papyrus, asking a silent question. Papyrus shook his head in response. That name was completely unfamiliar.
"how!?" Sans snapped, "how could you forget!? he was our boss! our mentor! how the hell could you forget him!? that's- that's his phone you have in your hand! papyrus! he was your . . . our . . . y-you drew him right . . . there . . ."
Sans stalled in his accusations, taking another look at the picture as well as the words. By the shift in his expression, something must have clicked into place in his thoughts.
"you knew . . ." he said quietly.
"Knew what?" Alphys questioned.
"you must have known! that's why you gave yourselves reminders! you must have felt yourselves beginning to forget . . . so you took precautions. alphys, you grabbed his phone to remind you! and papyrus, you found a picture- you even wrote yourself a note . . . but they didn't work . . ."
"S-sans?" Alphys hummed, "a-are you okay?"
Sans halted again, looking back toward the pathway to the CORE. There were still so many questions! How was it that even through all of their reminders, Alphys and Papyrus both completely forgot about Gaster and the others . . . or was it that Sans was the only one who remembered . . . ? When had they lost their memories . . . were they anything that could be recovered? Papyrus seemed to remember him at least . . . or was he only acting the part to make him feel better? But Alphys still didn't seem to really know who he was.
"Sans . . ."
"no . . ." Sans answered, a defeated air to his tone, "no, i'm not . . . but perhaps . . . it's better this way."
"But what about the difficult and important thing you wanted to tell us?" Papyrus protested.
"it doesn't matter anymore." Sans droned.
"It does matter!" Papyrus pushed, "It matters to you! Tell us!"
Sans frowned, struggling in his head to decide if it would be too painful to say out loud.
When he spoke, his voice was pinched.
"if you don't remember them . . . then it's not anything you should worry about."
"Does it have to do with this Gaster fellow and the list of other names?"
Sans groaned, "just drop it, okay? i'll deal with it."
"Not alone, you won't!"
"what does it matter if i do it alone!? it's not gonna change anything if i tell you or if i don't! they're all still gonna be dead whether you remember them or not!"
Papyrus silenced for a moment. Is that why Sans had been crying so heavily? Was he mourning all of those people? By himself?
He wondered who they had been to Sans. It was obvious that he cared very deeply for them.
And according to him, they had once meant a great deal to Papyrus and Alphys as well. Some of them had been friends . . .
Why couldn't he remember them . . . ?
"really, don't worry about it." Sans sighed, "if you don't remember . . . then the news can't hurt you. it's better this way. this way, you don't have to suffer."
"B-but you do!" Alphys chimed in. "And-and really, because we don't remember, you ended up having to-to go through it twice! If we really are friends, we can't let that happen. W-we should be the shoulders for you to lean on . . . s-so as your friend . . . i-if there's anything I can do . . . please tell me."
Sans was slow to lift his eyes, but when he did, the heat drained from his face and from his word, "thanks, al . . . that really does mean a lot to me . . . for now, though . . . i don't even know . . .
Sans looked up past their tent toward the entrance to the lab. What was he supposed to do now!? How was he supposed to go back in there? He didn't think he had that kind of strength.
Once again, he was filled with the overwhelming desire to distance himself. All of it . . . this entire area . . . was just . . . too painful. This had been Gaster's home . . . his home, from a life . . . that didn't exist anymore.
Slowly, Sans pulled himself to his feet, all the while, his gaze never left the front doors of the lab.
"i guess that's it then." He said dully and quietly, "that's really how this is gonna end."
"S-sans . . ."
"alphys. thanks, but i really should . . . get out of here. i just . . ." Sans let out a sigh, "hey, just know that if you need anything, i'll be around. but right now, i gotta . . . i gotta go. papyrus . . . i can't tell you what to do. we're brothers, yeah, but your choice is your choice. you can come with me if you wanna. if not . . . if i'm just gonna bum you out or drag you down . . . you don't hafta."
"And where would I go?" Papyrus protested, pulling himself up to his feet as well, "Like you said, you are my brother and I will not abandon you when you are going through something like this. I am here for you no matter what and I will go where you go!"
Sans hung his head at a loss for words. After a moment or two of silence, he released a short chuckle, "thanks, pap."
"So, where are we going?"
"dunno." Sans shrugged, turning his back on the lab and the life he'd known since he'd come to the Underground. "see ya around, alphys."
"O-oh . . . good-bye Sans . . . Papyrus. Please, t-take care."
Sans and Papyrus continued to wander through the Underground. But no matter where they stayed, it just didn't feel right to either of them. The only home either of them had ever known had been the Lab . . . but there was no going back there.
They would have to keep looking.
As the days passed, Sans noticed some very troubling occurrences with Papyrus' memories. It was as if every day, they would be wiped clean like a chalkboard. He would go to bed and wake up the next morning with no idea where they were or what happened the day before. Sans would sometimes have to remind him to report for training with Undyne and on extremely bad days, he would even have to remind Papyrus that they were brothers . . . It was very taxing and it would wear heavily on Sans. Was this a lingering effect of . . . whatever had happened to him back at the lab?
He would have to look into it when they found a place and he had more time to devote to studying Papyrus.
Sans did notice, however, the correlation between Papyrus' memories and the distance between them and the lab. It seemed that the further away they were, the more Papyrus could remember.
Sans also took note that the lapses in his memory were less severe when he mentioned Gaster and the others less frequently. So, based on those observations, they would have to get as far away from the lab as possible and Sans would have to refrain from talking about Gaster in order for Papyrus to function normally again.
Vaguely, he wondered if Alphys was going through similar things with her memory.
As the chill filled the surrounding air, Sans settled into his thoughts. This was it. The last inhabitable town before the RUINS. This would have to be it.
"welcome to snowdin, paps." Sans hummed, "this is gonna be our new home from now on, okay? this is where we're gonna live now, okay?"
Papyrus let out a bit of a groan. He'd heard the line several times before and every time, they'd had to pick up and move again because something just didn't feel right.
What made this place so special?
They walked through the town and Sans could pick out some familiar faces. He'd frequented the town while he was still living at the lab, but it didn't seem as if the inhabitants remembered who he was. There were a few double-takes when he'd said hello to the Bear outside of Grillby's or the Rabbits who were out for a walk. And he swore he'd heard one of them mention something about deja-vu.
Well, they had done it before, even if they couldn't remember it.
So, it wasn't just Alphys and Papyrus who couldn't remember . . . It looked like everyone was going through the same thing . . .
The first few nights, Sans and Papyrus got a room at Snowed Inn. The woman running the establishment seemed genuinely excited to have travelers visiting. She was very warm and inviting and she was sure to remind them of her sister's shop next door. While Sans got settled into their room, he encouraged Papyrus to go out and get to know the people of the town. After all, if they were to be living in Snowdin, he would need to be familiar with the village. Papyrus seemed to take this as a sort of challenge. Sans had never sent him out on this sort of mission before. This was a completely new task and Papyrus wasn't about to fail! He spent the rest of the evening introducing himself to just about everyone he saw and he'd even spent about two hours talking to the Shop owner next door.
Meanwhile, during Papyrus' absence, Sans took the opportunity to talk to the Innkeeper. It was the perfect time to test her.
Sans sat on the couch of the front lobby while the Innkeeper straightened up her reception desk.
"It's not often we get travelers who stay with us. Where are you and your brother from?"
Sans shrugged, "eh, kinda all over the place really. it's been getting kinda tiring too. pap's at his wit's end."
"Oh really." She sighed. "That's too bad."
"actually, i was thinkin about making this the last stop. you've got a nice town here. quiet."
"Oh yes!" The Rabbit cheered, "It was one of the first towns established when people started branching out from the RUINS. We're old, but that just means we've withstood the test of time. Not to mention it's a great place for families. Things can get a little too overwhelming in the bigger cities, don't you think? Too many distractions."
Sans nodded, shifting to listen. He got her talking. Good.
"i know what you mean. everyone's always going somewhere and it's almost like they're too busy to even say hello. there's no such thing as relaxing or taking it easy out there."
"Exactly!"
"so . . . you said snowdin was good for families. i noticed there were a bunch of kids here. you got any?"
"Who me!?" The woman squeaked, a faint pink to her ears. She giggled nervously. "Oh . . . well, no- well, that is to say . . . not yet. Maybe someday, perhaps. How about you, stranger?"
Sans chuckled at the idea. "me, a dad? heh, i don't really see that happening . . . ever . . . besides, i've got my hands full with my brother."
"Ah, yes. Well, he's definitely high-spirited."
"i hope he won't be too loud."
"Of course not! It would be a nice change of pace. And he's sure to be popular with the children."
"i think he'd like that. heh- i can just imagine him running around playing monsters and humans with the ice caps and snowdrakes! haha! he'd wanna be the human every time!"
Sans and the innkeeper shared a bit of a laugh, and even though he played the part, Sans' heart just wasn't in it. After all, he did have ulterior motives.
"it's amazing just how comfortably everyone has been able to live here!" Sans commented, "actually, i'm a little surprised the electricity has been able to make it all the way here."
"Well, of course." Said the Rabbit, "We've had electricity here for a good five years now thanks to the CORE."
"right, right, of course." Sans waved, "i just mean that it's crazy to think that one machine is capable of powering up every city and town all across the underground! that takes some insane work!"
"Indeed!" the Innkeeper agreed, "If my sister is correct, it was all created by one man! Doctor . . . doctor . . . oh, what was his name again? It started with a 'C' . . . or a 'T'."
"or a 'g'." Sans corrected.
"That was it! Doctor . . . Glasser or something."
Sans drew in a long breath, trying to hide how quickly his mood was turning sour. This woman didn't deserve it. She had been nothing but sweet and kind to him and Papyrus ever since they arrived.
But "Doctor Glasser or something" was inexcusable.
"actually, it was gaster." Sans droned, "doctor w.d. gaster. he was the royal scientist for almost 30 years."
"Doctor Gaster . . . ? Huh, somehow that seems a little . . . off. Or maybe it's just—"
"or maybe it's exactly right. maybe the one who worked with him for nearly a decade would remember his name when he died . . . even when no one else seems too."
Sans didn't look up to see, but the Rabbit woman's face fell when she realized how drastically Sans' speech and tone had changed. He obviously felt very deeply about this. And this news of the doctor's death was completely unexpected.
"Oh no . . ." She nearly gasped, "I'm so sorry to hear that! Were the two of you close?"
". . . yeah . . ." Sans sighed as he pushed himself to his feet, ready to head back upstairs to the room, "he was like a father to me."
As Sans passed her to head back upstairs, the Innkeeper turned her eyes away.
"I'm so sorry." She repeated.
"it's fine." Sans answered, shoving his hands in his pockets, "if this goes the way i think it will, you won't remember any of this in the morning anyway."
Sans ascended the stairs and closed the door behind him before falling face down onto his side of the bed.
A while later, Papyrus returned with a boisterous air as he flung the door open again.
"Sans! Would you care to explain why the Innkeeper is currently crying downstairs!? Are you upsetting people again!?"
Normally, Sans would have been shocked by the sudden intrusion and it would have jolted him, but this was becoming more of a frequent occurrence from Papyrus to the point that Sans had come to expect it. He didn't even move or turn his head. Instead, he stayed turned away from Papyrus and just stared at the wall.
"yeah," he answered dully, "we got to talkin and—"
"And you felt it necessary to drive her to tears!?"
Sans sighed. Actually, the whole thing was part of Sans' experiment. In the morning would come part two- the part where he checked back with the Innkeeper to see if she remembered anything about their conversation. So, though it was unfortunate that the Rabbit was driven to tears, it actually provided him a valuable reference point.
"eh, it isn't like she's gonna remember any of it tomorrow." Sans groaned, "no one ever does.
Papyrus hesitated at the words, confused. Eventually, however, he shook them off. "Is that any excuse to bully people! How can you expect anyone to like you if you keep doing this! Really! I expect better of you, Sans!"
"lemme guess. now you want me to 'march right down there and apologize to the poor woman' right?"
Again, Papyrus hesitated. Those had been the exact words he had been thinking, "Well . . . if you know what you have to do already, I suggest you get to it!"
Sans hummed at the fresh opportunity that presented itself right then. Perhaps a double experiment was in order. No one ever remembered any conversation having to do with Gaster if his name was mentioned, but Papyrus wouldn't know this . . . because he never remembered either. And at first, Sans had been planning to just casually slip the name into the conversation and erase Papyrus' memory of it as well . . .
But perhaps this was a learning opportunity.
"i'll tell you what. in the morning, we'll go downstairs. if she remembers that i made her cry, i'll apologize. if not, then we carry on as if none of this ever happened."
Papyrus narrowed his eyes at his brother, his behavior striking him as odd. Sans had never been one to play with someone's emotions like that . . . at least as far as he could remember . . . much less, brush them off like that. Even so, the Innkeeper had mentioned that Sans wasn't feeling well- that he was upset and to apologize to him for her. How backward! Shouldn't Sans be the one to apologize to her?
"You know, she's a great lady." Papyrus pressed, "Even though you tore at her emotions, she still cares enough to send something to make you feel better." Papyrus tossed something across the room so it hit Sans in the back of his skull.
Finally, Sans shifted, if only to see what hit him. He didn't move from his position, but he turned his head to see a palm-sized pastry wrapped in plastic. The treat was in the shape of a bunny.
"It's a cinnamon bun." Papyrus explained, "The Innkeeper got them from her sister to give to us. She also said to pass along that she's sorry for our 'loss' for some reason. That she didn't mean to stir up such strong and troubling memories. She said that she wants you to know that she's not heartless and she's not careless enough to forget something like this in one day. She said that Doctor Gaster was truly a monster dedicated to his people, especially if he was able to construct the CORE to make everyone's life just a little more comfortable. And that he deserves to be recognized for his services. It's a shame that he isn't- even if it would be posthumous recognition."
Again, Sans let out a long sigh as he listened to Papyrus' words. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the cinnamon bun. This woman . . . she really did understand. She knew where Sans was coming from on the subject of the doctor and she understood his importance.
Damn it . . .
"okay, fine." Sans answered, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and eventually into a standing position. He shoved a hand in his pocket and grabbed the cinnamon bun with the other. "i admit, she didn't deserve what i did to her . . . but she does deserve an apology while she can remember it. and i . . ." Sans hesitated, looking back to the pastry, "don't deserve this . . . here, papyrus. you can have mine."
As Sans approached, Papyrus shook his head, "Maybe you don't deserve it . . . but you do need it. Don't think I've forgotten about your HP, brother. You need to monitor your health more carefully!"
"fine . . . just- hold onto it for me 'til i get back."
With that, Sans left the room to head downstairs to have a real conversation with the Rabbit. He apologized for the way he acted and he explained to her exactly what was going on and why he was testing her. He told her exactly what happened in the CORE and how Gaster died. He explained that everywhere he went, it was as if no one could remember Gaster at all. And every time he would tell someone about Gaster, they would forget the next day. Not because of who they were as people, but because everything relating to Gaster just erases itself from their memories.
"in a way, it's an opportunity for me too." Sans explained, "i get to talk through this as little or as often as i want . . . and no one remembers it afterward."
"But that does make me wonder." The Innkeeper questioned, "Why hasn't he been erased from your memories too?"
"that's what i'm trying to figure out. was it because i was there when it happened? or because of what i am . . . i dunno, but it looks like i'm the only one who remembers him. not even my brother remembers and gaster was his biological father."
The woman hummed, "That sounds terrible. It must get incredibly lonely . . . and incredibly frustrating."
"yeah . . ."
"Thank you for sharing this with me, Sans." She continued, "I'm glad I could help you at least a little . . . even if I don't remember this conversation in the morning."
"hey," Sans shrugged, "who knows. maybe you'll be the exception."
She wasn't.
When the next morning came around, Sans and Papyrus made their way downstairs where the Innkeeper greeted them with a smile.
"Good morning, boys!" She chirped, "I trust you slept well."
"We sure did!" Papyrus cheered. Due to the conversation he'd had with the Innkeeper before coming to get Sans, his memory of the deal they'd made had been altered as well. It seemed as if any mention of Gaster, regardless of who mentioned him was thoroughly erased.
Sans only shrugged. His night had gone . . . typically. He'd woken up to the sounds of his own cries as he watched Gaster and the others fall to their deaths repeatedly in his dreams. He'd stayed up after that, curled in on himself as he tried to get himself to relax again.
But for the sake of smooth conversation, he was willing to ride the wake of Papyrus' mirth.
"Well that's wonderful!" The Innkeeper smiled. "Do you think you will be staying another night? Or will you be checking out today?"
"actually," Sans stepped in, "i was wondering if maybe you could help us. You see, we've been looking for a place for a while now and we've decided that we wanted to make snowdin our new home. i was wondering- well, we were wondering if you knew any places on the market."
"Actually, now that you mention it." The woman mused, "There's a place right on the edge of town that's been empty for a while now. It's old and probably needs some repairs, but it's a good start. There's water and electricity there!"
"Really?" Papyrus asked, "Electricity in an abandoned house?"
"to tell the truth, it's nice to see that the electricity reaches out all the way here."
"And it's all thanks to the royal scientist!" The Innkeeper informed, "He put in so much effort to make life easier for the rest of us. He was really amazing, wasn't he?"
Sans perked up at that. Perhaps she really did remember! Or if not, there was definitely a lingering impression on her from their conversation the day before! And that was better than nothing . . . better than most.
"he really was!"
The good thing about living in the place where you work is that you don't have to pay rent. Or at least, Sans didn't while he had been employed in the lab, which meant he'd been able to save the money he earned and set it aside just in case. And it was a great thing he did, or else he never would have been able to afford their house in Snowdin.
On the Innkeeper's recommendation, Sans and Papyrus made their way to the edge of town leading out toward Waterfall. Just as she'd said, there was an old one-story right there as if it had been waiting for them! She was right. It was an old little place, but nothing that the brothers couldn't handle! Maybe they could even expand on it! It would be a project.
"this is it, paps!" Sans nodded as he looked at the place, "home sweet home."
Already, Sans had a few ideas for the place, but he would have to get a handle on it first. He would have to get inside and figure out what the place needed and how it was being supported before he did anything else to it.
Stepping inside, they already could see potential in the little home. A living area and a kitchen! And beyond the living area was a hallway leading into a separate set of rooms. Those could be their bedrooms for the time being. But again, Sans had other ideas. The way this place was built, it could easily be turned into a two story home . . . and this place in the back . . . where the rooms were currently . . . well, it would be nice to have his own work station again. No, he was no longer a scientist by profession, but that didn't mean he still couldn't have projects and- dare he say- hobbies!
Not to mention, it would be his home. His first actual home. Not a squatted area, not a dorm, not a room given to him out of charity. His.
"how about you go pick out a room, papyrus?" Sans suggested, "i'm gonna get in contact with the agent in charge of this listing."
The entire process went relatively smoothly, though the real estate agent had some concerns with both Sans and Papyrus being unemployed. To that, Sans had been able to provide the agent the down payment as well as the mortgage on the home for about a year while still retaining enough to make the changes he'd wanted to and be able to live comfortably during that time. He'd never been more glad to have saved his Gs from all the time he'd been living in the lab. It did not slip his mind, however, that he would need to find work and soon if he wanted to maintain this new life. He knew his savings wouldn't last forever and he would need to be able to support himself as well as Papyrus. So while Papyrus was able to continue his Guard training, for which he was not being paid, Sans began to contemplate alternative sources of income.
Within that first year, as Sans and Papyrus attempted to find a regularity and a pattern to their lives, Sans used the time to piece together everything he'd been able to collect during their vagrant phase.
From all the people he'd talked to, it was as if no one was even aware that there had been a team of scientists working in hotland. The name W.D. Gaster had fallen with the man, but more than that, the others had faded from memory as well . . . granted, they weren't as well-known as Gaster, but still someone had to remember them!
They'd had families! They'd had friends! They deserved to know what happened as well, but the problem there was getting in contact with them. To this conundrum, Sans decided to compose and send letters to the families of his all of his coworkers . . . his friends. Surely, they would be missing their relatives.
However, after some time, Sans received a particularly disturbed response. A scathing reply letter from Maltez' brother telling him not to contact him with tasteless prank mail.
"I don't know how you got this address, but there was never a Fitz Maltez and I don't appreciate this harassment. If this is your idea of some sick joke, you should really reevaluate your life. Please don't contact me again."
That was it. Reading it made Sans' resolve falter. Even Maltez' brother didn't know the name . . . but hadn't the two of them made dinner plans just a couple of weeks ago?
Perhaps it was the same as it had been with Alphys and Papyrus. Neither one of them seemed to have any memory of the others who had lost their lives that day . . . Not one of them. And it seemed as if the amnesia surrounding those names was widespread.
So . . . he really was the only one left . . . the last of the team who could remember a time when there was a team.
Perhaps . . . it really was . . . for the better. Perhaps, having their friends and their families spared having to deal with all of that pain was worth it . . . even if he was the one who had been burdened with carrying it.
Sans shook his head free of the troubling thoughts. No! There had to be something more he could do! He wasn't able to save them, no . . . he'd been too weak. But wasn't there anything he could do!?
The thought weighed on him for quite a while.
Until, one day, when Papyrus left for his training, briefly mentioning how little things have changed since they moved in. Sans had to admit, he had a point. So far, they had been able to take mattresses and various items from the dump to live on. They had a cooking pot and a refrigerator, but no couch or any real furniture. He could take the time to build it himself, but with all of the renovations he'd been planning (now getting the plans to paper) he thought it would be nice not to have to build those things from scratch.
There was one place he knew he could find what they needed and it would come easily . . . from a source no one seemed to remember.
But the question was: would he have the strength to retrieve them?
Pushing aside his plans, Sans made his way once again through the Underground toward the very last place he wanted to be.
In the crossroads at Hotland, he seemed to freeze as he looked upon the place again for the first time in months.
The lab seemed to have been deserted since that day and everything inside was dark. It looked as if the lights hadn't even been turned on during the time they were away.
The only evidence there was that anyone had been in the area at all was a sign taped to the entrance door.
Slowly, Sans approached, apprehensive to what the sign could possibly be about. When he was close enough to see, his expression fell.
"figures . . ." he scoffed.
The sign read:
"Royal Scientist needed for special projects! Do you have what it takes? To be considered for this exciting opportunity, submit your application and a sample of your work to Captain Undyne of the Royal Guard. All submissions will be reviewed by King Asgore."
So . . . the King was looking for a new Royal Scientist already . . . as if Gaster's death meant nothing more than just an empty spot where now there was a lack of productivity. As if everything Gaster meant to this place . . . everything his team had done for everyone . . . it was as if none of it mattered at all!
Sans clenched his jaw, and his hands, and his eyes against the sign. How dare they just push it all aside!? If only they looked inside the lab, they'd see all of the work they'd been doing! They'd know just how dedicated this team had been! They'd know . . . just how great they really were . . .
If he could just look inside . . . he would see everything they'd left behind . . . if he went inside, it would be as if none of it had ever happened, like he could step through a portal- through time- and be back in those times.
If he put in an application . . . if he put his name in the pot as the potential next Royal Scientist, he could pick up right where they left off. He could continue their work. He knew the job and he knew where their projects were headed. If he got the job . . . then it would reduce the risk of someone else completely screwing everything up. Plus, it would give him steady employment that paid well and would ensure his and Papyrus' comfort. It was actually a pretty sweet deal. And not only was he qualified for the position, but if he took over . . . he would know exactly where to start and how to keep the place going . . . he could hire a new team and run the place in Gaster's stead . . . the way he would have wanted . . .
Doctor Comic Sans Serif . . .
Sans shook his head vigorously at the thought, trying to rid his mind of it all. Yes . . . he could do all that, but if he did, wouldn't he be just like those people he'd just been repulsed by? The ones who just wanted to replace Gaster like he never existed?
Even if that wasn't the case, it just would have been wrong to even consider taking Gaster's place. In fact, he didn't like the idea of anyone taking Gaster's place.
There was only one Gaster . . . and he was gone . . . there was no going back . . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Or was there?
A thought crossed Sans' mind, stemmed from the idea of crossing the doors into some sort of portal. About the idea of going back in time to a place where Gaster and the others were still alive . . .
Gaster, in his free time, as one of his side hobbies, had been dabbling in theoretical physics. Space, time and different planes of existence. Alternate universes, dimensions, and realities . . . Though, at first, it had been a guilty pleasure and completely for fun, Gaster had mentioned once or twice in passing that some of the theories were not quite as farfetched as people had been led to believe, especially if one were to add magic into the equations. With the addition of magic . . . there were untold possibilities!
In short, there might actually be a way to go back. Or rather . . . to bring the others back! To get everything he'd lost back! To reclaim his life!
And it all started here! No, he wouldn't put his name in for the running, but he could still conduct his own research without the limitations and deadlines and pressures the title of being the Royal Scientist entailed.
There was a pulsing in his chest he hadn't experienced in what felt like a lifetime . . . he was excited! He had a plan and a purpose again!
He had a goal!
But to get started on that, he had to get his workspace in Snowdin up and running. And to do that, he needed to get the stuff from here and finish up the living areas.
In order to do that . . . he needed to enter the Lab . . .
Then why couldn't Sans bring himself to open the door?
His hands trembled as he reached out for the handle and that same excited pulsing in his chest tightened and refused to beat. His breath caught as flashes of memory shot through Sans' mind.
He was frozen in his spot, unable to move forward. And he was afraid that if he touched the door, he would break down completely.
Maybe he couldn't do this at all . . . maybe he had overestimated his strength . . .
Damn it . . . Damn it!
Again, the sting in his eyes came to haunt him, threatening to take action against that resolve he'd been fighting to build and already, he could feel the welling of tears.
No! He came for a reason! He would see it through! He wouldn't be beaten down again by his own guilt!
He grabbed at the handle and a shudder ran through him. A few steadying breaths. That's all he needed.
"you can do this, sansing." He whispered his grip tightening as if on a lifeline.
It was as if the door and everything about the place was grabbing back at him as tightly as he was gripping the handle. It held on to his soul and he found it steadily more difficult to breathe. The memories and the implications of the place completely overwhelmed him in an instant.
"just close your eyes and do it!"
He forced himself to breathe, trying to keep it even . . . though he wasn't able to keep it deep. Shallow breaths would have to do.
He kept his eyes shut tightly as he pulled the inner latch of the handle and opened the door.
"this is it."
With his eyes still shut, Sans stepped through the threshold and stood just beyond the entrance until the heavy door clamored shut behind him.
As he continued to force himself to breathe, already the smell of this place triggered so many memories. It was as if he could hear them. All of them in passing conversation walking past, heading toward their next project. Maltez making a poor and awkward pass at Baelin. Baelin brushing it off with a bit of a giggle. Ruddard's encouragement after she'd left and Gaine's scoffing at the whole thing. Gaster handing out assignments and the slight groans as the others thought about just how they were going to be able to pull off such tasks. Even Gaster's slight chuckle. He'd had absolute faith in his team and he knew that each and every one of them would be able to rise to every challenge.
Fighting off a shuddering breath, Sans slowly opened his eyes to the dark room. Seeing it again, even in the dark, was enough of a window for even more memories to consume him and his thoughts.
Over against the far wall had been Sans' "office" when he'd first started at the lab as Gaster's administrative assistant. And where he'd first been offered the job as lab assistant.
Over by the left-most wall had been when he'd argued with Gaine . . . and perhaps what triggered the other's extreme dislike for him. It was also where he and Papyrus had gone through the box of Gaster's son's old things. Knowing now what he did about Papyrus, it did make sense why he had been a bit hesitant about giving those things away. Sans wondered if Papyrus remembered anything about his past life . . . what would those things would mean to him now, if anything at all?
And just a few feet ahead of him had been where Papyrus had collapsed after carrying the first human child here. Though Papyrus couldn't speak at the time, he had insisted they bring the child with them. Again, knowing a bit more about Papyrus' origins, Sans was convinced he'd thought the doctor would be able to revive the kid, like he'd been revived.
Like Sans himself had been revived.
Swallowing past the sentiment and the hesitation, Sans fought to steel himself and focus on why he was there. Somehow, he had to ignore all of the feelings and memories associated with the lab. They were his past now . . . nothing more.
"what the hell am i doing here?" Sans asked himself, hissing through his teeth. "i have no business here . . . this place . . . is torture . . . why did i think i could do this!?"
Again, he could hear Gaster's chuckle in the back of his mind. He could sense his encouragement. His unending belief. Sans closed his eyes again and against his own doubt, he could feel a hand on his shoulder.
"i'll get you back, doc." Sans hummed, "i'll get you all back . . . they'll all remember you . . . that's my new assignment. it's the least i could do for you . . . after everything you've done for me."
The hand on his shoulder seemed to tighten . . . he knew it was all in his imagination, but it was still a bit of comfort in his mind.
If anything, it did give him the encouragement he needed to take another step forward.
Until he was successful in his mission, he would have to be the one to carry on their memories. He would have to be the one who kept them alive.
And just like that, Sans' purpose for coming to the Lab changed. Yes, he was there to get supplies . . . and Gaster's couch . . . but it was so much more than that now, he was there to preserve the memories of his team.
Sans continued into his former home.
It took a few hours and every last ounce of nerve, patience, and composure he could accumulate, but he was able to walk through and collect things that reminded him of his team. By the end of it, Sans had collected one of Maltez' favorite pens which had been attached to a lanyard, one of Baelin's favorite bows, and Ruddard's book of inspirational quotes.
And Gaine . . . well, Gaine kept his work area impeccably clean with only the most absolute necessities. It didn't seem that he kept anything that wasn't strictly related to work.
There was one thing. In the top drawer of his storage locker, there was a small card with a photo of a family, all smiling as they waved toward the camera. It was a Giftmas card of four other Cat monsters. Man, Woman, and two small children. One of the children still seemed too small to let stand on his own and he even seemed to have just come off of a fit of some sort. His eyes were still teary. His fur was puffy and very soft looking- and very orange.
"Merry Giftmas, Uncle Aldrin!" was written in gold ink near the bottom of the photo.
Sans had stood there with the photo for a few good minutes looking over the faces. It was a completely different side of Gaine that he'd never seen. He never talked about his family . . . a brother and a sister in law, a niece and a nephew.
And he cared enough about them to have a photo of them here in a place where he had absolutely nothing else even remotely related to home.
Sans debated with himself, something just didn't seem right about taking the photo . . . it was too personal.
But it was the only thing of him left in this place . . .
In the end, he put the card inside of Ruddard's book and continued onward.
Eventually, Sans found himself outside of Gaster's room- his final stop, even after visiting his own bedroom and Papyrus'- only stopping to pick up Papyrus' favorite bedtime story.
As he stood before Gaster's room, that heavy feeling returned and Sans could feel it in his legs as if someone had filled his bones with lead, preventing any further movement.
The first time he'd stepped foot in this room had been after Gaster's experiments with the blue soul, when he'd nearly caused the entire wing to explode . . . and he'd very nearly killed himself in that explosion.
It was the first time Sans had been faced with the very real thought that he could possibly lose Gaster. The thought had terrified him before . . . and now that it was a reality . . .
Again, Sans had to pull himself back, lowering his head to shake the thoughts from his skull.
This had been Sans' entire reason for coming in the first place. He knew from the very beginning that he would eventually have to make his way here.
But still, nothing could prepare him for this feeling.
The utter uselessness. The sinking feeling of being completely powerless in the face of reality and knowing that he was about to come face-to-face with his own shortcomings and his own failures. With the others, yes it had been difficult, but this time . . .
He reached forward and, trying not to think too much more on it for fear of completely debilitating himself, he pushed the door opened.
Again, the first thing that came to him was the familiar scent, having spent nearly every day with the doctor, he hadn't noticed it much. However, after so long without that presence, returning to the smell of this office and the faint scent of ozone that permeated it . . .
It was almost physically painful . . .
Not that long ago, Gaster had been in this very room, very busy with work and very tired, doubtless, but still very much alive! The room still looked as if the doctor could return to it at any second. A spare pair of shoes lined the wall along with a coat. The file cabinet had a drawer that was only partially closed as if he'd been rummaging through the contents recently. There was even a book that lay open on the coffee table beside an empty and coffee-stained cup. He hadn't even had the chance to wash it . . .
Doubtless, Gaster had been sitting here on the couch as he read and drank his coffee. Perhaps he would have even been doing a brain teaser or a puzzle in any downtime he found. It was the same couch Sans had fallen asleep on that day he'd come to visit the doctor after his accident. The doctor had smiled and allowed him to rest because he "looked like he needed it."
Sans laid a soft hand atop the back of the couch as the memories scrolled by like a movie reel at an old cinema. This had been the day's top priority- to retrieve this couch. He placed the items he collected on one of the cushions and took a look around the surrounding area. To everything that was left of the doctor's life.
Across from the couch and past the coffee table was Gaster's large desk, upon which were scattered papers and objects. Approaching the desk, Sans drew in another long breath, releasing it only after he was certain his legs could carry him without giving out.
In his final moments before going to the CORE, Gaster's mind had been in turmoil. Sans could tell by the state of complete disarray the desk was in. Gaster usually had a system going when he worked on something challenging - even if it was more of an organized clutter. Sans had learned to decipher Gaster's line of thinking . . . but this- this natural disaster of a work space was Gaster at his most frustrated and his most torn.
It was more a pile than anything else and as Sans pushed through the thin layer of dust that had settled in over the area, he began to skim over the pages. Soon, he was able to find the common theme linking everything together.
Him . . .
Charts and graphs from past CHECKS, Sans' old reports and findings on various projects, his old name badge and key card which he'd surrendered when he'd been suspended, a note from Alphys expressing her concern for him, that maybe something might not be right with his health.
Mixed in, were specifications and configurative settings for the DT EXTRACTION MACHINE. Formulae for how much energy the machine would use and how much it could extract- notes on how to make the process safer and to install an alarm system so it would alert him if the subject was in any mortal danger.
Gaster had been debating. He had been trying to decide whether or not to go through with the idea of using Sans as a test subject for the machine. He was trying to predetermine how much Sans would be able to take before taking him to the machine at all. But everything he had was purely conjecture . . . he needed a trial run before he could make final modifications, before they could do any real tests.
He really had thought of just about everything before they'd gone down there. He knew they were just doing the bare minimum. There was absolutely no room for error and he had been in complete control.
Until everything had gone to Hell . . .
Over to the side of the desk, nearly covered in other papers and dust, was the slight shine of a glossed paper . . . another photo.
The photo of all of them . . . taken even before Kit had arrived. It was old, but he could see all the faces just as clearly as if they were all standing there in front of him. They were all wearing such bright smiles . . . even Gaster. Even Sans' own smile seemed foreign to him. He hadn't smiled like that since.
It was probably the happiest he'd ever been. It had been the first time he'd ever felt like he had a real family . . . even his friends on the surface hadn't felt as close as these monsters had.
Flipping the photo over in his fingers, Sans noticed something written on the back; something in Gaster's nearly illegible scrawl.
"#3. He seems happy"
Sans' jaw would have dropped if he had any control over it anymore. Even back then . . . so early into their time together, Gaster had been studying him . . . and more recently, Sans had discovered just why Gaster had been counting . . .
So this had been genuine smile number 3, huh . . . ?
Sans' expression turned fond, a bit sad, and even slightly embarrassed as he studied the picture; it was almost like he'd stumbled across old childhood photos . . .
. . . the kind parents would keep . . .
Sans' eyes glued to Gaster then as the doctor smiled back at the camera. Damn it . . . there should have been something more he could have done. If he had, maybe then Gaster would be . . .
Gaster would be . . .
Wiping quickly at his eyes, Sans added the photo to his list of things to add to the pile on the couch. Surely, there were some other things he could take- projects he could finish for Gaster- things the doctor hadn't been able to get to!
Maybe he could find some way to help in his notes! In his incomplete projects! There had to be some way to help!
There was a part of Sans that wanted to take everything. All of the notes and all of the papers. All of the folders and all of the blueprints . . . but he knew that was impossible. Still, the feeling was strong.
Sans did, however, take a few books from the shelves behind the desk, including books on quantum theory and theoretical physics, even a couple of Gaster's Sci-fi novels . . . he had a feeling he'd be needing them in the near future.
He also took a large three-ringed-binder full of Gaster's plans and blueprints. Most of them were written in wingdings, but he could continue to study the language and decipher it so he could at least attempt to utilize one of these plans.
It was the least he could do.
Sans placed all of the things he collected with the other things on the couch and sat on the arm, resigning himself to call it quits. He was faced with yet another dilemma . . .
The task of getting all of this stuff back to Snowdin.
He let out a long breath and a low hum as he thought it over. There was absolutely no way he could carry all of this himself- even if he'd thought to bring something to cart all of it around. Not only that, but the day had been long and harrowing and Sans was beginning to run low on his energy and composure. Even if he took all of the things he collected first and came back for the couch, he doubted he would been able to handle multiple trips back to this place.
He could call Papyrus and ask him to help maybe . . . but that meant the two of them would have to carry the couch and all of the stuff through the Underground in order to get back home . . . and risk getting a million and fifty-six questions. He didn't think he had the strength or the patience to deal with all of that.
Blue magic was not out of the question . . . but again, there was that carrying everything through the Underground thing . . . plus the drain on the rest of his energy.
. . . maybe he shouldn't risk it.
Sans leaned his head against the backrest of the couch and let his eyes shut as he thought it over again. It was way too far and it would take way too long. It was be so much easier and less stressful if he could just . . .
Before Sans could think the rest of his thought, his entire being went numb for a second, as if everything had shut off all at once and then suddenly turned on again. At the shock, his eyes shot open once again. When he looked around, he was shocked to find himself back in his living room in Snowdin. Blinking out of his mesmerized state, he did a double and triple take to make sure he was in the right mind.
Slowly, to make sure he was stable, Sans pushed himself off of the couch and onto his feet . . . Even Gaster's coffee table had made its way back with them . . . he'd only been considering bringing it, but hadn't really committed to it.
How the heck . . . ?
The air here felt different too it wasn't quite as dusty or as . . . was there a better word than "stale"? The lighting was better and it didn't feel nearly as dreary.
He really was back.
Shuffling to avoid stumbling over his own feet, Sans walked to the front door, noting the completely different carpet as he traveled. He even opened the door and chanced a look outside.
Snow . . .
. . . but how did . . . ?
Had he just . . . teleported . . . all the way to Snowdin . . .?
But how had he managed to do that . . . maybe it was a Skeleton thing . . . ? After all, he was still trying to get used to his own body . . . it'd been a little while since they left the lab, but still, Sans was learning more about himself and about being a monster every day. But no, it couldn't have just been a Skeleton thing, because then Papyrus would have shown signs of it as well . . . the only other person he knew who could teleport had been Gaster . . .
And right before . . . before he . . . before he fell. He'd given Sans a tiny bit of his magic . . . magic that had teleported him to safety . . .
He thought it was just a one-time-thing. Something that Gaster did to make sure he got out safely . . . he had no idea . . . Had Gaster actually . . . given him the ability . . . ?
Gaster . . . ? Could he even do that . . . ?
Sans thought it better to drop the idea there for a moment. Papyrus was coming back, finished with his training for the day. He would probably ask about where the couch and the table had come from.
He should probably come up with a reason that didn't mention the lab or Gaster or the thought that he'd passed on some of his power to him.
Instead, Sans just waved as Papyrus approached.
"hey bro!" he greeted, "welcome home!"
Seventeen . . .
Because of his fuzzy sense of time, he knew he had been wandering this nothing for a long time, but he could not figure just how long. Over and over again, the number "seventeen" came to him and would not leave him be. Had it been seventeen minutes, hours, weeks . . .
. . . seventeen years . . . decades . . . millennia . . . ?
Just seventeen . . . that's all he had.
So he kept to it.
He knew one thing. He had to keep moving or risk being devoured. The darkness here . . . it was alive. Seeking, searching for any light any warmth. Like a candle.
A flashlight.
A soul.
That feeling meant something. That fear he felt permeating his entire being. It was a good thing.
It meant he was alive.
Though, without knowing where he was, there was no way of knowing where he was going.
Time and time again, he would look downward to his hand. The one he still had. And materialize a second to make a matched set. Holed and curled as if they were unable to stretch out anymore.
The splintering cracks had since smoothed over . . . but only because the rest of him was so . . . unstable.
It was as if his entire body was melting. Like it kept trying to fall apart, but something inside of him wouldn't let him turn to dust. Something was keeping him alive even in a place like this.
It was as if he was determined to keep living no matter what. And he had a feeling that the voracious darkness was somehow attracted to that tenacity. It seemed to seek him out and try to attach itself to him- make him part of its mass. Take him over completely.
So he had to keep moving.
He had to admit, after wandering through the nothing for so long, there were many things he missed. Things he longed for.
Rest.
Companionship.
Productivity.
He'd had none of these things since that day- since he'd fallen in.
He knew that what he'd done, he'd done to save them. He needed to save Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys at any cost. And he'd known that even if he had survived, he wouldn't have had long to live. He had already been falling apart, crumbling away . . . he would have been dust within days if not hours.
He had made the right choice . . . but then why was this his new reality? How had he ended up here?
Where was here?
And now that he was no longer in danger of turning to dust . . . dare he try to find a way back . . . ?
How could he go back after this? How could he try to return?
Because he wanted to set things right. He wanted to apologize to the others for their pain and their suffering, for his follies.
But that still left the how.
For a moment, he halted to take a look up . . . at least he thought it was "up".
Sometimes, there were twinkling lights up there, like stars shining. With those stars came thoughts and sometimes sounds, sometimes feelings and emotions. Sometimes, it felt more like a channel than anything else.
A way to listen in and respond if he could.
If he happened to hear anything at all.
If he happened to be looking up while it was happening.
The lights would only appear every once in a while and only for a few seconds at a time before the darkness stretched over them again and drown him in perpetual nothingness. For a while, he'd been wondering, however if it was at all possible to get information out. If he was getting sounds and lights from the other side, could he send some from where he was?
It was worth a try. And he would try the very next time there were stars.
And as he halted, there was a pinprick- a tiny white dot far in the distance! A single star!
Now was his chance! He would only have a few seconds to communicate before it was covered again!
He would leave a message . . .
Something he knew they would be able to decipher. The last two from his team. Sans and Alphys! If anyone could help him figure this out, it would be the two of them.
But they would need each other.
Still, he had to try . . .
He focused his force intently on that single star and spoke as if making a wish. It was the fist time he'd used his voice since he'd been traveling this place. It was hoarse and dry.
"ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN"
(It was how he always started his entries, with a time. Usually it was a date, day and year. In this case, he only had that one number. With any luck, they would recognize this as his.)
"DARK DARKER YET DARKER"
(A literal description of his surroundings and how he'd gotten to this point.)
"THE DARKNESS KEEPS GROWING"
(The foreboding feeling and fear associated with this place)
"THE SHADOWS CUTTING DEEPER"
("I am in danger")
PHOTON READINGS NEGATIVE
("However, I am still alive")
"THIS NEXT EXPERIMENT
SEEMS
VERY
VERY
INTERESTING"
("It will take a lot of work and I am unsure it will amount to anything at all")
"WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK?"
("Together, there may be a chance. I believe in you.")
In that moment, the star flickered out of existence . . . his opportunity gone. Not only that, but there was a sinking feeling to his feet. The darkness was back, trying to trap him and pull him under, it was always subtle at first, trying to lull him into a false sense of security before actively and aggressively trying to pull him under.
He had to get moving.
Sans sat straight up in bed, having woken himself from yet another nightmare. Again, there was a pull at the back of his thoughts. Something that would not leave him alone or let him rest. It was insistent and pestering, bringing up his past repeatedly and asking him- no- more like demanding him to focus.
The pull had been a familiar one.
" . . . gaster . . . ?"
He hadn't said the name aloud for almost seventeen years, but the moment it left his mouth, the feeling washed over him. It pulled at him and dragged him into action, even against his initial thoughts and feelings.
Gaster was calling him. Gaster needed him.
Of course it could have been the lingering effects of the nightmare . . . but this felt different somehow! This felt more real.
Tangible.
From the desk against the wall, something fell even though no one had moved. There was no wind and it didn't feel like there had been a quake at all.
When Sans shifted his attention, he saw that it had been Gaster's books that had been piled atop the desk. They were now all spilled across the floor.
How had something like that pile been knocked over by nothing at all? And then, there was the fact that this had not been the first time it'd happened . . .
Either Sans was finally completely losing it . . . or . . . it was some kind of sign. An omen, perhaps.
Oh well, nothing left to lose . . . may as well check it out.
Sans shuffled out of bed and gazed again at the photo that had fallen at the top of the pile. Gaster looked up at him with a smile as did the other assistants.
"really . . . ?"
He checked the time: 4:30am . . .
"geez, doc. just couldn't let a guy sleep, could you? okay, if you insist."
With another step forward, Sans transported himself directly into the room in the back of the house. He'd been able to convert it into his own personal workspace just like he'd planned, but so far, his projects hadn't amounted to much . . . mainly because he couldn't decide where to begin.
He had, however, been working quite a bit on his wingdings. He was steadily becoming more proficient in deciphering the symbols.
With the thought in his mind, he pulled out the large three-ringed-binder with Gaster's blueprints. He placed them on the counter with a bit of a resolved sigh.
"alright doc. you got my attention. i'm listening. what should i do?"