19. Leakage

[[File 19.1 CO]]

She finally answered her goddamned phone, though she stuttered so terribly she could hardly be understood. Even as someone well-trained in interpreting Alphys' stutter, he had to concentrate closely in order to comprehend. It did not help how his emotions overpowered him. How they rushed through him, stung his eyesockets, tightened his ribcage. He did not know whether to sob or scream or bottle it in. In the fluctuation of angry mourning, he barely heard her near-imperceptible stammer. "S-S-S-S-Sans? D-do y-y-you, um, n-n-need someth-thing?"

It registered late, but he caught it. As soon as he did, he clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on the phone. He almost struck out at the sock in his room with a blaster.

She knew. She knew. The damned Royal Scientist knew – there would be no other reason for her to stammer so badly except she knew.

It only fueled him more. "i've got a question for ya. should be easy to answer." He ground his teeth. "you've been watching the human, right? heh, not because it's your job or anything." Bitterness sliced through his words, but at this moment in time, he could not care how bitter he came across. If anything, perhaps the harshness would convince Alphys to finally act.

He received silence on the other end of the cell.

"or am i wrong…?" More seething hisses.

"N-n-no, I've been – I've been watching," she shakily confirmed.

"with microwave popcorn and a can of soda?"

"I-I-I-I uhhh…." He could almost hear her sweating on the other side of the receiver. "Uh, m-maybe after watching them on a s-s-screen for a while, I…" Strange noises on the other end of the receiver might have been her nervously shuffling, maybe even half-dropping the phone. Did he actually hear the crinkle of a popcorn bag? Oh my god. She babbled. "I mean, I mean… I'm so sorry Sans I'm so sorry I didn't think anything like this would happen I should have listened to your warnings but I mean I didn't think our research would go this I…"

He cut her off with a verbal stab. "welp. it did."

"Sans…" the word squeaked at a higher pitch than a mouse "…th-th-this was y-your idea… I-I mean it doesn't make what happened any better, and if you…"

"stop it," he said.

"What?"

"stop it all. we can't do this. the human can't be allowed to…"

"Sans?"

It was good she could not see the state of his room. Of the bones stabbing into the mattress, piercing into the drawers, even boring through the ceiling. Everything had been torn apart. He had torn everything apart.

this is my fault.

He couldn't say anything.

He couldn't think anything.

A headache overwhelmed… emotions overpowered that… he could not think he could not think he could not…

"Sans, we both know that we have t-to let the human pass. N-n-no matter what choices they m-make, they're the only ones who can reset the timeline. You told me yourself. The only motivation they'll get comes when they reach the end of thei…"

"alphys, he's dead!" It wasn't even bitter backstabbing now. It was outright shouting. When had he ever done that? But when had he ever experienced something like this? "don't you get it? he's fucking dead because of me!"

"I'm sorry, I –"

He did not hang up the phone. He threw it to the wall.

so this is what became of gaster's great research, he thought in bitterness, slumping against his door. No need to shut it – his brother would not come knocking on it now. His brother would knock on anything now. How could this happen? How could he let this happen? nothing but a repeated time loop of hells i can't forget.

[[File 19.2 GA]]

A/N: Scene not written. I jotted a note for what I planned to write:

[Sans, Rain, and Gaster bonding moment with Rain drawing – actually it's when Gaster is happy to chat about the differences.]

[[File 19.3 GA]]

The evidence was piling up, and its verdict did not make Sans smile.

Perhaps "piling" was the incorrect term to use. The proof of Gaster's prolific time travel activity did not manifest in towers, stacks, or anything else growing. Rather, it revealed itself by… melting.

After receiving a third research report spattered in a thin, goopy film, Sans could no longer deny Rain's claim. Gaster was, indeed, leaking, as though the tips of his fingers turned liquid and dripped like a faucet on anything he touched. No matter what sort of extraordinary revelation headed the contents of Gaster's latest discovery, Sans and his mechanic companion concerned themselves more with the presence of the goop.

"Your intern friend, Alphys? Is she – by any chance – a biologist?"

"nope, sorry, rain. mechanical engineer and physicist, like you. no biology in her bio. though… come to think of it… she mighta dabbed a bit in the life sciences as an undergrad?"

"Maybe that'll be enough. Could she at least run some simple tests on this sticky gunk on my lab report – discretely as possible?"

A few weeks and five stammering sentences later, Alphys returned with a DNA test proving the substance on Rain's paper matched Gaster's living tissue.

"S-s-s-something's going on, isn't it?" she asked with a wrinkle-faced wince.

"just another prank." Yet there had been no pranks for quite a few months now. Gaster could not deign himself to such nonproductive nonsense, not when he had infinite parallel universes to explore and conquer. The last time Sans had attempted to dunk Gaster's office in socks, the Royal Scientist had almost thrown a fit. A real fit, not his usual bemused exasperation. Something about time being of the essence, how anything outside of work constituted a complete waste of time and energy.

Gaster worked hard… but usually not that hard.

Something was up.

Then there were the unusual number of syringes lying on Gaster's floor. The Royal Scientist pulled his chair close to his desk and stretched his feet across the area to hide them, yet Sans noted their presence anyway. So did Rain. Gaster, unaccustomed to being a liar, feigned casualness incredibly poorly, and struggled to hide even obvious evidence of his overproductive endeavors.

how often is he going back in time? how many syringes does this guy need?

It was the official document in the trash, though, that gave Sans the most concern.

He should not have picked it up. Should not have unfolded it across the desk when the Royal Scientist was absent. But he did anyway. Gaster never wadded something up, after all… it was unlike him to do anything except neatly shred official documents. Call it worry, call it suspicion, call it nosing around… he pulled the crumpled sheet out of the wastebasket and read the first line of printed text.

MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT. This agreement serves as a complete, final settlement for all matters regarding the dissolution of the marriage between Wings Dings Gaster and…

With shock and no little guilt, Sans hastily recrumpled the paper and shoved it deep into the waste basket.

Maybe he could excuse Gaster for overworking with happenings like this.

[[File 19.4 GA]]

A/N: Scene not fully written. Material I was planning to expand upon is described in brackets.

He spied the syringe in W. D. Gaster's hand and winked. Though Gaster had half-hidden the item between his fingers, pulling the sleeve of his lab coat well over his knuckles, Sans could not mistake the tool and its purpose.

"going somewhen?" he inquired.

"Please spare the drivel, Sans," Gaster responded, completely unamused by Sans' joking query. The doctor did not even slow as he marched through the halls; if anything, Gaster's sleek black shoes clomped faster through the laboratory. If he marched any more rapidly through the hallways, he would be trotting. However, the Royal Scientist did at least deign to explain to Sans his lack of attention. His hands flowed rapidly through signs. "I have experienced this instance of the timeline before, and you signed the exact same words in the exact same way. There is no need for me to see those words again. I could probably predict each statement you make before you give it, though frankly, I find that of little interest, and of no use for my latest research pursuits. I have no desire to experience the same instance of my life on repeat."

Sans, attempting to brush off the unfriendly retort, shrugged and slipped his hands into his lab coat pockets. However, he did not leave Gaster's company; as the scientist continued to march down the hallway and toward the main elevator, his shorter, younger skeletal companion pursued him. As innocent as Sans' initial question had seemed, Sans had entered the conversation with far greater goals. There was information he needed to know. The sooner the better.

Gaster's shoulders slumped when he realized he could not avoid the other scientist. Exhaling heavily and turning about, Gaster faced Sans. "I gather you want something?" he asked.

"an answer to my question would be nice."

"What questi–" Gaster's hands dropped before he could finish the sign. He apparently just remembered the question Sans had brought up – of where in time he appeared to be headed. "Very well then." With carefully controlled composure, the Royal Scientist responded, "I am returning to the laboratory in the CORE to stock this syringe with the others Rain has produced." No time travel jump for now, it was implied.

But Sans pointed out, "the syringe is empty." The pointy bone tip of his finger arrowed in on the evidence. "it'd be full if you had just hopped to a new timeline. but you just applied the syringe… meaning you're about to make a jump. a new one. a new timeline. a new something or other. why's that such a big deal you can't tell me?"

"There's no purpose informing you," responded Gaster. The elevator let out a flash of light, the doors open, and Gaster lingered at the periphery. He could have simply marched into the lift and let the door shut on Sans, but even with his irritation, he allowed the conversation to continue. Gaster placed his hands on the inside of the elevator frame to prevent the door from shutting without him.

"yeah? because you want to do everything yourself?"

Gaster's hand lifted off the door frame to respond, "NO." He sighed, then elaborated, "Once I make the jump back in time to the parallel universe, you will not remember this conversation. This timeline will indeed, so far as I am concerned, cease to exist in entirety. Therefore, it is of no point to me to inform you of the purpose or nature of my time travel, being as it will come to no productive end."

"then how will i –"

Perhaps this conversation had also come before, for Gaster impatiently jumped into a new explanation, reading Sans' thoughts.

"I will inform you when my experiences reap pertinent and beneficial data, as well as ascertain that you retain the information even as I continue to SAVE and research timeline possibilities. I will debrief you in my next timeline hop about my latest plan. Right after the meeting, I will make a new SAVE so that all my subsequent accessible timelines retain that meeting in the past. Then, I will each month do as much research as I can. If the month is unproductive and no useful information found, I will return back in time and repeatedly relive that month ad infinitum until I find something relevant to my studies. With a new discovery, I will create a new SAVE point and repeat the process."

Sans began to suspect that Gaster had been sneaking off with empty syringes for a long while now. At least, long as far as the doctor's own personal remembered chronology was concerned.

"god, wow. how many times have you gone back in time?"

"Those records are private until they are ready to be made public."

"that's one dumb answer." Sans shrugged. He remembered why he had approached Gaster in the first place. He targeted back into task. "like a lot of your answers." Before Gaster could protest he had just divulged a lot of information, Sans pressed onward, "you've told me some things. cool. i guess. but, you still haven't answered my first important question about –"

"I said I had no need to divulge that information."

"not even for, say, health reasons?"

Gaster frowned.

"tut tut, looks like rain. you know you're dripping, right?"

A few fingers twitched at Gaster's sides. That might not have been noticed by most individuals, but for Gaster, that was the equivalent of shouting in astonishment.

Sans, squinting, signed, "that's what i thought."

Gaster's hand slipped out of sight into his laboratory jacket pocket, but he had to take it out again to sign. He acted fairly collected even as something like water trickled down his palm. "I admit my carelessness caused one of the syringes to rupture. I thought I had properly cleaned the substance off my fingers, but some of it must still be dripping from my sleeves. If you will excuse me, I will see to cleanup immediately."

"will you fix your dripping jawline, too? quite the rupture, boss. almost looks like it's making you melt. but that's not what's happening. is it? you didn't inject two full vials into you, im sure, and they're not doing anything bad to your body."

The two researchers stood, face-to-face, peering at their adversary in an attempt to outflank the opponent. However, there could be no denying Gaster's current physical deformity; as though turning to liquid, half of his jawline had begun oozing toward his neck. His left chin would soon be melding with his collarbone beneath the laboratory jacket. Gaster's fingers, in little better condition, appeared more like knobby candles, burnt one too many times, and covered in waxy lumps. Some of the phalanges had four joints, some fix, some six, some three. No wonder Gaster had of late opted to wear turtlenecks beneath his laboratory coat.

"hey, gaster, you've helped me through a lot," Sans said, signing gently. "let's be real. i would've thrown in the towel by now without your mentorship and motivation. you're a great guy and real dang smart. and thoughtful. and considerate. you showed me how to use your blasters. that was a lot of time and training there. then you taught me more about physics than any of the lab rats on my dissertation's examination board, too.

"only thing is… you don't seem to know how to chill. you're going at this way too hard and you're going to crash. from the state of your hands and your face, looks like you're already in that process. …no offense…

"this isn't new news." Sans motioned toward Gaster's misshaped hands. Even now, a drop slipped off the ring finger. Self-consciously, the Royal Scientist clasped both hands behind his back, safely out of view. "it's not even old news. it's the opposite of news. olds? it's old olds. rain and i've suspected for a while. hard to hide your gooping all the time. even if you hide it ninety percent of the time, a p value of 0.1's still pretty big."

Gaster shook his head. This answer would not suffice, however. Once again, he was forced to pull his deformities back into view. The hands came out from behind his back. "It is a minor and temporary setback," the Royal Scientist explained, "of no danger to me nor anyone else. Once I make the time jump, I lose all unwanted physical symptoms and return to a completely solid state."

"it bothers you, doesn't it?"

No response.

"can i ask you a question?"

No response.

"are you working hard because things aren't going as planned? or is it because things aren't going as planned that you're working hard?"

No response.

"or is it one big vicious circle?"

"We're done here," said Gaster. "Personal business is not the concern of my employees."

But before Gaster could turn aside and finish the conversation, Sans interjected one more comment.

"'it's always important to fight for each other'. that's what you told me once, isn't it? more than once, even. but i remember the first time you did it. it was at the café when you first learned my parents had fallen down and i was taking care of my brother alone."

[Sans point out Gaster's doing the same mistake Sans did back then]

Sans had Gaster's attention. The Royal Scientist had stilled completely. He did not even drip as he attentively watched Sans' hands

The elevator door had shut during their conversation, but he jammed the button again now. Even though Gaster charged inside the lift and turned aside from Sans, a small dribble of the Royal Scientist remained on the door.