"I'm so sorry for your loss, Doctor."

"Oh, Gaster, dear… we're all going to miss her so much…"

"She was the best of us, sir. The very damned best."

"Thank you for coming… Oh, son. Sans, you don't have to hold Papyrus all the time, son. I know you don't feel hungry, but please eat something today. He'll be okay for a few minutes."

April 25th, 198X

"Lucida asked that no religion be brought into her passing, not because she didn't believe in something, but because she knew that among her friends and loved ones, there are many different beliefs. Rather than prayer and a sendoff in a church, she wanted a celebration here in her favorite tavern where she spent many an evening after work either having dinner with her family or chatting over a beer with her friends, colleagues, and fellow soldiers. So though we have laid her to rest, we must look to all the good she left us, and to the future she fought so hard to ensure for our people. To Lucy."

A chorus of "To Lucy" answered Asgore back from around the large, rustic room, echoing off the wooden floors as everyone raised drinks to their lips and toasted Captain Lucida Sans Skjallar's passing. Only an hour before, they had gathered near the town of Echo in the Waterfall region, and watched as Lucy's widowed husband and two sons cast half her ashes into a little stream that would carry them south all across the region. She had loved Waterfall most. It had been where she married, where she lived, and where her sons were born. Everyone had agreed it was only fitting that, when her ashes arrived from overseas, they should be scattered there.

Asgore settled down in his seat with a deep sigh, glancing over to his son. Asriel had been completely calm and quiet since hearing of Lucida's death. Asgore had decided to let him come to the funeral and wake for closure, knowing the boy had loved Lucy and she'd loved him despite his broken mind and sometimes violent outbursts. She'd understood him and his struggle and he was silent and heartbroken at her passing. After straightening the teen's shaggy blonde hair, Asgore sighed and hugged Asriel with one arm.

Off in a corner, Asgore's brows furrowed in concern to see young Sans trying to calm a teary-eyed Papyrus. Gaster had only left their table for a moment to get food for the boys when Papyrus had burst into tears again as he'd already done several times that day. The younger boy leaned heavily on his brother's broad chest, unable to hold back the tide of grief. Sans, on the other hand, simply looked tired and forlorn. His dark hair was always disheveled, the blonde streak above his right eye especially messy. But deep, dark shadows had formed under his eyes similar to Gaster.

Gaster returned from the little buffet of homemade food brought by the wake attendees, and set the two plates down for his sons. Hearing a sniffle from Papyrus, Gaster came out of his haze for just a moment to see Sans holding the younger boy tightly. "Papyrus," Gaster murmured, and the boy's glassy brown eyes opened to stare up at him, begging for Gaster to make the hurt go away. Sans let him go and Papyrus clung to his father when the tall man knelt down.

"Sorry, Dad," Papyrus murmured, his voice muffled against Gaster's sweater.

"Don't apologize. It's okay to be sad. Especially for yourself." Gaster pressed a kiss to the boy's head before looking to his older son. Sans was simply looking on quietly, his hands tucked into his pockets. Normally he'd be in his favorite blue hoodie and baggy jeans and blue sneakers, but he'd decided to dress up in a nice dress shirt, a dark brown jacket, new jeans, and boots for the sake of his mother's funeral, especially considering many of her military and police friends had come in their dress uniforms.

"Sans," Gaster spoke up softly. "Come here, son." Sans hesitated, but soon stepped into his father's embrace with Papyrus between them. He felt tears start to well up, but like his father, he always forced them back until no one was looking. Neither wanted Papyrus to see them break down and they hoped to uphold some kind of steady constant for him.

The three all held each other for a long moment before Gaster finally stood and guided them back to their seats. "Please eat something, Sans," Gaster murmured, smoothing Sans' messy hair back. "Your mother would kill me if she saw you starving yourself like this."

"I'm not hungry, Dad," Sans told him with a sigh for the third time that day.

"I know. Neither am I…" Gaster took his own seat, picking out a small sandwich from one of the plates. Despite all of the good food that lined the long tables against the wall, nothing looked appetizing and it all tasted like dust to Gaster. Papyrus seemed to still have an appetite, which Gaster was thankful for as the eleven-year old was growing like a weed and he needed all the nutrition he could get. Sans, at fifteen, was only a head and a bit taller than Papyrus and Gaster was certain he'd probably not even reach his mother's height in the end.

The little family had a long moment of peace between them, until they finished eating and some friends approached. Toriel Dreemurr, a tall and imposing woman who had been a friend of Gaster's family since he was a teenager, paused beside Gaster and laid a gentle hand on his back while Asgore stepped over to Sans and Papyrus with Asriel. The three boys didn't know each other well but were friendly, and Papyrus was glad for Asgore's kind attention.

"They'll never be the same," Gaster muttered to Toriel, his one good eye flicking between Sans and Papyrus as they spoke to the King and his son.

"No. No they won't. But that doesn't mean they have to be worse off for it. The same goes for you."

"Toriel, you of all people ought to know that I'll be fine. I always am."

"You haven't always been a widower, William. It's no shame to not be okay for a while. For a long time, in fact. Just as long as you don't let yourself lose all faith."

"I'm a scientist, Tori. Faith is not in my job description. I'll be fine and I'll get my work done like I always have. Nothing will change at the CORE." Gaster adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, only for Toriel to take both his hands. They were smaller than her own, and hers were practically flawless compared to his rough, terribly-scarred skin. Large, circular, deeply-ridged scars showed on each of his palms, telling of a disastrous accident in the CORE some years ago. Lucy had saved him then, and again from the accident that had taken one of his eyes and left the vicious scars on his face.

"Your hands look worse every time I see them…" Toriel murmured, noting the little nicks on his knuckles. A white bandage was wrapped around one hand, covering a nasty cut on his palm. "For a scientist who works with such delicate machinery all the time… you're terribly clumsy, William." Toriel sighed and wrapped her arms about his shoulders. Gaster's hands returned to his lap and his head bowed low in silence. Those damned tears were welling up again, just like they had two nights before when he'd cut his hand on a large shard of broken glass, and Lucy wasn't there to wrap his hand up and berate him for being an idiot and never wearing gloves while he worked.

Toriel felt a couple tears drip down onto her sleeve and she let Gaster turn toward her to hide his face against her shoulder. Taking a seat beside him, she let him hide for the moment and offered a gentle, reassuring smile to his two sons as they looked on, worried by how their father's shoulders trembled and he seemed to have trouble breathing.

"Why don't we give him a moment, boys?" Asgore asked softly. He placed a hand on Sans and Papyrus' shoulders, but Papyrus didn't hesitate to scamper over to Gaster's side. He slipped into Toriel's arms too, wrapping his own about Gaster's neck and settling in his lap.

"It's okay to be sad," Papyrus repeated his father's assurance back to him, only to be hugged tightly in Gaster's shaking arms. Papyrus dutifully removed Gaster's glasses so they wouldn't get smudged or fogged up, setting them aside on the table before wiping away a few tears from Gaster's face with the corner of his sleeve, just like Sans and Lucy had often done for Papyrus himself.

"You're a good boy, Papyrus," Toriel murmured, earning a pained smile from the boy as he laid his head against Gaster's shoulder.

"It's okay to be sad…" Papyrus repeated once more as Gaster tried to choke back a quiet sob, his face hidden against Papyrus' scarf. "Sans told me that grief is a good thing. Even elephants and gorillas get sad, so it's gotta be natural." Toriel knew Papyrus was trying to appeal to Gaster's logical and scientific mind, something he and Sans and Lucy had often done to sway him when he was thoroughly against something they all wanted. "Sans said Mom cried every time a soldier or policeman she knew died. So crying has to be one of the strongest things we can, do… right? 'Cause Mom was the strongest of us all."

"That's right, buddy," Sans finally spoke up as he approached, laying a hand on Gaster's shoulder. "She was the strongest and she's still a hero. If Ma could cry, then it's gotta be the strongest thing we can do for her right now."

"But you don't cry, Sans," Papyrus murmured, meeting his brother's mismatched eyes.

"Then I guess I've got some training to do, huh?" That earned a momentary glance from Gaster, and Sans' usual easygoing smile faltered for a moment. Gaster had caught Sans crying several times, usually in the middle of the night when Papyrus was asleep, or during the day when no one was around or Sans thought no one was looking.

Asgore stepped up behind Sans, and Asriel nudged the older boy forward into the little group hug. Toriel welcomed him in and Papyrus wrapped an arm around him too, but tears only finally brimmed in Sans' eyes when he felt Gaster's hand on his back.

"See, you can do it," Papyrus encouraged even as a fresh wave of tears came over him as well.

"You're the best teacher, Pap…"