14. Assistance
[[File 14.1 GA-20000307-0-#]]
"I'm sorry, Sans, I really am. But… I don't if know I can help."
Sans shrugged, hoping the physical gesture would somehow shove off his disappointment. If anything, though, discontent beat down on him further. He could feel his face falling into somber worry, mouth turned downward, eyes downcast, with a slump to his spine shortening his already short height. "don't sweat it, rain. it's fine." He hoped his words did not come across as too dejected.
A squint came from Sans' colleague, a friendly if somewhat jittery individual. Though the two might have been more accurately considered acquaintances rather than companions, having only worked as teammates together in the Royal Laboratory for a few months, Doctor Rain Pearson could already read the skeleton well. Skepticism radiating across the taller monster's face, he trailed, "Are you sure…"
"yeah. i said it's fine."
Rain could read past the poor façade. He could hear the frustration behind Sans' short sentences. Switching to sign, probably in an attempt to protect Sans' privacy, he insisted, "I would… I would offer to help if I could. You know that, right? It's just that my apartment is made for one person. If I'm going to be honest, it barely even fits one person." He rolled his eyes. "You and Papyrus would barely have room on the floor. That's not fit anybody."
"i get it. so long as you get i'm REALLY desperate right now."
"I know I know I know. I just…" Rain groaned and put a hand to his head. With his other free hand, he began chewing on a fingernail in turmoiled consternation. "Okay… okay..." his fingers finally wobbled. "No promises, okay? Only think of me as a maybe last resort. There's no one else… closer… to you two that…?"
Sans shook his head.
"God. I mean… I'm sorry. Okay. The answer's maybe, if there's no one else. Just… tell me when the eviction is." He let out a sigh at the last signed word.
"end of the month."
Rain winced. He did, however, respond with one final, "Okay." The conversation did not inspire assurance and confidence, but it did – at least – provide Sans something in means of future planning. Hell, but he had thought that entering the Royal Laboratories would be a dream come true, the commencement of an exciting chapter in his life… not this rough and rocky journey, his life falling apart around him.
If they hadn't died…
Rain suddenly switched back to English, talking in almost too loud of voice. "I'm looking forward to the weekend, aren't you, Sans? Ah… ah… I think I'd like to take a trip out of New Home, see something in, oh, I don't know… is Waterfall too far a trip? What do you think?"
Sans glanced behind him, noticing a tall and skinny skeleton lingering in the background. How long had Doctor Gaster been watching them? How much of the signed conversation had he caught? Something about the Royal Scientist's expression… he knew.
"sounds like a great trip," Sans answered, casually leaning against the wall, pretending as though he could not feel his supervisor's eyesocket on his back. "life's short. i say ya go for it."
[[File 14.2 GA-20000207-0-#]]
Incandescent lights flickered on across the cubicles, wavering with the same fatigue and reluctance Sans himself felt. One of the light panels above him sputtered desperately. It was obviously nearing the end of its life. As for Sans, despite the fact he had only woken an hour ago, he could feel his heavy eyelids droop – the result of a poor night's rest. More of a nap than a rest, really.
He slid down into his chair. Drooped his head. Rubbed at his forehead. Moaned. Glanced up at his workspace desk and blinked in surprise.
A cup of coffee – still warm – rested dead center on the surface, along with it a bag of chips that had probably come from the laboratory's vending machine.
Sans glanced around, down the hall. No one was present, but someone had to have…
Oh.
Of course.
The door to Gaster's office was slightly ajar.
[[File 14.3 GA-#####-0-#]]
"Doctor Serif, may I have a moment and speak with you in private?"
Sans had been standing up along with the rest of the research staff, taking leave of his seat and heading for the doors after their bi-weekly laboratory-wide meeting. As much as the weekend beckoned to Sans, it appeared he would have to forestall it a few minutes. Doctor Gaster had apparently formed other plans.
When the final scientist shuffled out the meeting room, Gaster strode forward and carefully shut the door. He touched the handle with a thoughtful delicacy before turning and looking at Sans with an equally delicate expression.
"I apologize for interfering in a conversation for which I was not a part, but I may have accidentally eavesdropped on your conversation with Rain Pearson this morning."
Sans stood there, shuffling his feet. What could he say in response to that? He had noticed Gaster. He had expected as much. And this was hardly a topic he relished discussing.
"Even with the adjustments I made to your schedule, I presume it is still a challenge to handle other affairs outside the workplace?"
Drowning in debt from student loans, awkwardly juggling bills, trying to find some way to explain to his brother he had lost their parent's house… yes. 'A challenge to handle other affairs outside the workplace.' That was one way to put it.
He shrugged noncommittally, hands defaulting to their secure station in his pockets. It provided an obvious indicator he would not be saying much.
Doctor Gaster looked away. His facial expression did not change, but something significant must have been rotating inside his skull. He signed, "You need a place to stay."
Sans still did not pull his hands out of his pocket, but begrudgingly provided a single nod.
"As kind as it is for your colleague to offer his floor, I believe I could provide better accommodations."
Sans had long since learned not to show emotion on his face, but even he gaped when he saw those signs. Doctor Gaster was not actually going to…
"At least, so mind as you can handle three children between the ages of eight and sixteen. The eldest can be rather… aggressive… as a forewarning, for all that I love her."
He was. He was going to offer his place to stay.
Sans shook his head hurriedly this time, and even pulled out his hands to enunciate in sign, "NO." He struggled to find the words, challenging both because he had to recall the signs and because the doctor's offer flustered him. He ended up just emphasizing the word "no" several times before he thought of some actual dialogue. "thank you… so much… but i don't think i could accept that." Asking an individual on his science team for help had felt cumbersome enough; receiving offered assistance from the Royal Scientist himself staggered him.
"I don't think you have many other options," pointed out the Royal Scientist bluntly. He could sense Sans' deferential hesitance and slapped right past it. "My position of authority is irrelevant to the status of your situation. Who I am does not change what you need. My willingness to help, on the contrary, is what's pertinent, and could solve your problems if you got past some minor details of social status."
It was not just that this was the Royal Scientist. Becoming indebted to someone who had already – in his own subtle fashions – provided Sans assistance, that bothered Sans, too. He hated asking for help. He also hated receiving it. Cool, collected, impervious – he preferred to look like someone chill who let worries flutter past him… not someone in desperate need of assistance.
Nevertheless, he knew he needed this, and understood he could not refuse.
A long lapse of silence passed. Then Sans responded, in a discomfited joke, "careful there, doctor gaster. once i start bumming on you, there's no guarantee you can shove me out the door."
"I highly doubt that." And then, to Sans' surprise, the doctor responded back, in a perfectly even expression, "I am taller than you by a notable margin and likely stronger. I feel like you'd be pretty easy to shove." And even as Sans was still trying to determine if that had been a joke, he felt the relief settle in. He had a home.
[[File 14.4 GA-2000227-0-#]]
Shuffling into the coffee shop. Glancing around. Yes, there he was. There was Doctor Gaster, seated at the same table, the same chair, with the same expression as always. The Royal Scientist stood up from his seat in the corner of the room to approach Sans and greet him. With a nod, Gaster slipped past Sans, stepped up to the counter, and ordered for themselves a cup of green tea and the cheapest, blackest coffee they could brew.
"how'd your day go?"
"Is your brother doing well?"
"how's sunny and the kids?"
"settling into the new apartment well?"
Conversation passing and the drinks slowly draining. A refreshing, relaxing tradition with which to begin the weekend.