CHAPTER TEN: SANSational!

The Riverperson stood, staring in silence at who they think might be Sans, who is sitting, shaking and drenched in icey water in the middle of their boat and dressed in…some sort of…papyrus-like outfit? A bright blue and muted gray royal guard imitation, yes, for sure. But something about it seems… oddly familiar…?

Oh, wait, times tick…it's…not a night's imaginings after all, then? A reality built on upside down foundation has bled into being…how interesting.

They cautiously glance at… the other sans, with curiosity, but also apprehension. The dreams have spoken of many sanses and stories, not all of them good, not all of them sane. Hunger, desperation, fear and insanity follow many sanses through the dreams they wind. Tilting their hooded head sideways, the Riverperson inspects the small, shakily smiling skeleton who is dripping with ice-cold river water as they row.

The smile is genuine, and his eyes are alight with passion. Like little blue stars, they glow in darkness…hm. An ally, then?

"MWEH HEH HEH! A-ARE YOU ALRIGHT, H-HOODED STRANGER? YOU SEEM P-PERPLEXED, BUT DO NOT F-FEAR, FOR I AM THE SANSATIONAL SANS, AND I SHALL EXPLAIN ANYTHING YOU MAY N-NEED!"

The small skeleton rambles, still shaking with cold, his voice confident even as it catches with cold. a few small chuckles escape the Riverpersons dark hood. Yes, this appears to be a harmless sans…one of the few who rarely keeps secrets as most sanses do. Curious, curious…

"MWEH? A-ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU SEEM… D-DISTANT..."

He asks, tilting his skull in concern as he stares up into the darkness of the Riverpersons hood, his expression quizzical…for he has expression. The Riverperson gazes down at him calmly, noting how expressive this other sans is, at least compared to his double doppelgänger in this world. So he has the insight of his counterpart here…interesting. My friend might have something to say of this…yes, that is where we shall travel. Thinks the Riverperson, changing course for the gray door, already having forgotten Gaster's mention of his sons, even as the small skeleton in their boat rambles onwards.

"P-PERHAPS IT IS BECAUSE I AM A S-STRANGER HERE! IS THAT WHY YOU SEEM…RELUCTANT? D-DO NOT FEAR, FOR I AM H-HARMLESS! MOSTLY! WELL, I WOULD NOT HARM Y-YOU, STRANGER-FRIEND, BUT I C-CAN CERTAINLY DEFEND MYSELF! MWEH HEH HEH- CAPTAIN ALPHYS S-SAYS SO, SO IT MUST BE TRUE!"

He chatters brightly, still shaking from the icy riverwater. The Riverperson is silent, but the other sans detects an amused smile from the dark hood, and so quietens, watching the world pass by with cheerful optimism. He sits there in the boat as it drifts onwards, still shivering as they row quietly on, traces of confusion sneaking into his expression now and then when he sees flickers of shyren singing, or aaron being…well, aaron.

So…my dream is all accurate. Alphys, a fighter, undyne, a scientist… perhaps. but this sans is not as clear a swap. He has the body- mostly- of his counterpart here, yes, but not quite the mind of our papyrus... He has insight, and not as much innocence as he would have me believe…all the same, a new friend. I am becoming quite popular…


*distant sounds of someone cracking their knuckles.

*seems they've only just begun…


When Sans wakes, he feels…off.

Uhg…what happened last night…..He thinks blearily, and stares up at his ceiling, taking in the rows upon rows of bones that stick out of it, and the walls, and the…wow. That might be tricky to get past...Geeze, he really summoned a lot of em…he gets up slowly, making a muffled noise that is Sans's version of a yawn, rubbing his eyesockets tiredly. He groggily checks his HP, but no, still the new normal of 350/350-

Wwwwaaaaiiittt no that's…not right. That's…nah, I must still be half asleep…

He checks again, properly this time, Summoning his soul and opening the interface as he-

THE M_M_M_M_MAAA_AGNIFIC_I_ENT SANS!_!

HP: 350/350

DF: 15

*This boss monster is being affected by F̸̞͇̻̜̉̋̕O̷̢̢̗̻͓̳̐̂̇̅͗̑͘͜͝R̵̨͖͈͎͇̜̞͍͔̝̃̈́̍C̸̝̪̲͍͉͇̓̓̑ͅE̶̛̖̳͔̖̹̩̯͔̠S̴̝͇̘̭̗͐͑̃̌̚͝ ̸̨̳̳̗̖͈͇̖̫̳̅͌̏̍̇̈́̋Ų̸͚̏Ṋ̸̡͚̳̣̒̐͜͠K̸̛̖̯̮͔͒̿̇̋̎͋̃N̷̦͌̔͆́̀̈Ỏ̶̩̙̌W̷̗̰͌͒͌͌͛͝N̸̻̘̲̣͔̎̋̈̀͋͒̒͋͠?̶̠͓̂̀̔̓̇̄̍͜͝

S̸̡̺͈̤͔̮̍̆͂͗̿͂͘Ǫ̶̗́̍̍̐̕͠͠M̶̡͕͖̮̤͎̥͎͇͈̀̑͒̍̀͛͂̕E̵̼̹͆͑̔̀͒͛̓T̸͎͍̙̮̈̽̈́̀̕͜H̸̤̲̉̅͂̽̍̅Į̵̜̮̝̄̆̈́͒Ņ̶̘̥͓̦̖͇̐͌̂̑͝G̶̡͎͎̠͝ ̷̙͓͆̏̓́̚͝I̵̱̪̲̔͊S̸̨̤̫̫̘̣͆͊̿̿̀̐͒̇ ̵̻͓̈̑͝V̵̨͙̺̻̘͙̳͊͆̌̂̓̽̇̋͘͘Ë̵̛̯͎̟̗̭͖̱͜Ȑ̴̥̮̝̪Y̷̨̧͖̖̝̹̟̋̋̃̀͒̀͝ ̵̨̘̭͊̈̿Ẃ̸̪̫̗̲̫̺͔͔̯̤͒R̸̡̘̠̠͚̻̪̙͇͂̒̔̿̈̓̅ ̸͙̥̲̓ ̷̡̤͉̪͉̺̭̃͂́͘ ̴̧̢̥̥̩̰̪̫̆̔͜͠Ơ̶̢͚̩̺̩̠͒̏̾̑͋ ̸͔̓̂̎̎͂̑͗̑̚̚ ̸͔̥̼͎̣̂̽͒ͅŃ̷̤̿̀̿͘ ̷̭̤̯̩͙̤͑͊̽ͅͅͅǴ̸̭̮̞͎̼̗̳͊̒͑́̓̓̌͝?

sans stares at the interface in shellshocked horror. To hell with breakfast, he needs to find alphys, and he needs to find her now. Something- as the everpresent narrator said- is very, very wrong. He slams his door open to a surprised "NYEH?" from below, and skids onto the balcony hall, still tugging his slippers on as he skids on the carpet, hearing the sounds of his brother and the kid making breakfast down below.

But, for once, there's no time for food.

He shouts down to Papyrus in a rushed voice that he's just visiting Alphys for a checkup, nothing to worry about, everything is fine, in an uncharacteristically bad lie. i'm usually better at it than this, he thinks with a wince, and doesn't even wait for his brother's response before he shortcuts to right outside alphys lab, the heat of hotland hitting him square in the face as panic tears through him. What's happening to me?

And…why do I feel like there's something more?


Gaster jolts awake by his door, as he hears… a familiar voice. He can hardly believe it, it sounds like…? He shakes his head, groggy from his sleep. It must've been his imagination…his friend must simply be returning. He listens intently, his melted skull pressed against the door as he listens for any more speech from outside his gray prison. He wishes he could see his conversational companion's face…he's missed actually seeing other people…But then, the voice he thought had followed him from a dream returns in full, boisterous force.

"MWEH HEH HEH! MYSTERIOUS STRANGER? HAVE WE ARRIVED?"

There's a distant "tra la la…yes." belonging to his strange friend that Gaster can barely hear, before the voice that… reminds him of sans so much he stops in his tracks, pressing his melted, disembodied hands against the door as he listens intently, an indescribable emotion rising in the mass of voidlike black where his soul should be. The voice speaks again, this time accompanied by the soft 'thump - thump - thump' of boots on moss as it steadily grows louder.

"WONDERFUL! HELLO? ANYONE HOME?"

Surprised, unprepared, suspicious and above all; confused, gaster yells through the door, as per usual;

?¬リ゚✌❄ ❄ ? ✌ ❄ ✞ ✋?¬リワ✍✏ ?¬リ゚ ✌ ✡ ? ゚モᆰ ?¬リ゚✡ ?¬レミ ✡ ? ?¬レミ?¬リᅠ? ✋?¬リワ? ゚モᆲ?

But his unnamed friend, and their impossible translator are apparently too far away to transla-

(AH-HA! YOU SPEAK WINDINGS! NOW, ANYWAY, KNOCK KNOCK!)

THEY- THEY SPEAK WINGDINGS?! But, they…they don't talk like sans! Too many…flourishes? Like if papyrus did a spot on imitation of Sans's voice… They must simply sound similar to him- But, no, no this is… wingdings is a genetic font, and only skeletons even have fonts, so how could they- Gaster, lost in his thoughts, realizes that the unknown skeleton has probably been waiting for a response, and so manages to choke out a confused reply;

{Uhh, w-who is there?}

The strange most-likely-a-skeleton on the other side of the door replies in perfect wingdings font, but what they say is the real reason that gaster gasps so hard his melting void-like body spikes with shock.

(MWEHEHEHEH! I AM THE MAGNIFICENT, SANSATIONAL SANS, OF COURSE! WHO ARE YOU? YOU SOUND VERY SIMILAR TO MY…OH...UH OH.)

Gaster sits there, in shock, for…quite a few minutes. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say. Ever since he came to this gray room, his mind has… slipped. His reactions have slowed, after so long of nothing to react to... He can't process any of what is happening, but he can think. And think he does, at lightning speed.

Has- has sans found me? My- my son, has he found me!? But, no, he doesn't speak like sans, and from what I can tell he doesnt think like sans either- i've been gone for thirteen years! Anything, any change could have happened in that time, it must be sans it- no, no, no, hes..hes not i know he can't be…But he has to be! But he can't be-

There is a huge, monumental, gargantuan difference between thinking and processing. Eventually, on the other side of the door, the not-sans asks in standard font:

"I AM VERY SORRY! I DIDN'T REALIZE YOUR… PREDICAMENT? MY NAME IS SANS, BUT YOU MAY CALL ME…BLUE! I AM NOT, UH, YOUR SANS, PER SAY…? I THINK THIS IS SIMILAR TO SOMETHING I EXPERIENCED JUST A FEW WEEKS AGO! IN MY UNIVERSE, THAT IS…BUT! I COULD ATTEMPT TO EXPLAIN! IF YOU WANT, THAT IS?"

The not sa- blue, pauses, waiting for a reply. But Gaster…he has none. There is no reply the shattered skeleton can think of. He just stays there, hovering, his dripping eyes blank and empty. The impossible skeleton on the other side of the door is not deterred by his silence though, and goes on to patiently chatter on about…many things. Things gaster thought were only theories. About timelines, and cracks in reality. About the core, about 'blue's' own father, about his brother, about how he's from a whole other timeline…about it all. about how Gaster's arrival in the locked room, or rather his fall itself, in both realities, could have been the very thing to allow "blue" to arrive here, how reality does not take fondly to being meddled with, and Gaster, his mind whirling and eye sockets wide, listens.

What do I do?

Can I really trust him? He's…he's from another world, I don't know how to…and is there really hope? Has another version of me really escaped this hell?

Am I just the version that doesn't?

.No. I am still a part of this world. I am still here, aren't I?

DETERMINATION.

With a deep breath, Gaster pulls himself together, pushing back the memories that threaten to overwhelm him with each word 'blue' said in Sans's voice, sitting up and taking a deep, grounding breath as he stares at the blue cloth that he has wrapped around one floating hand. He's ready to not just hope for freedom. He's ready to try.

He's ready to earn his freedom.

{what was this...experience? and...you said you saved your father, in your timeline. Would that same solution...apply, here?}

And with that, the sans thrown through time and space sits down, and begins to tell a very, very long story.


Sans is sitting atop the cold metal table, his shirt crumpled nearby as alphys nervously performs a physical examination on the skeleton, his soul glowing inside his ribcage with a pulsing light. For once, the usually chill skeleton is on the verge of panic, as he spies- and obviously understands- the readings flashing on the many glowing screens nearby. Timeline errors… data inconsistencies… soul readings that break the graphics of the program… His soul is breaking the timeline. Mainly because…well, if the readings are to be believed, it isn't his soul.

"-ALPH I SEE THOSE READINGS AND BY HELL YOU BETTER TELL ME WHY I'M NOT DEAD ALPH THE MANA CORRELATOR SAYS MY SOUL DOESN'T EVEN MATCH THE NARRATION VARIABLES THAT SHOULDN'T BE POSSIBLE THE NARRATION VARIABLE IS LITERALLY DEPENDANT ON THE SOUL THEY'RE LITERALLY SYNONYMOUS ALPHYS WHY AM I NOT DEAD YET THIS SHOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE AND-"

Alphys has tuned out Sans's frantic yelling by now, beads of sweat rolling down her scales as she desperately tries to find the answers to the innumerable questions springing up from the many impossible readings. She didn't even know sans could yell. She had never seen him vibrate either. And he is literally vibrating. His tailbone makes small clicks against the metal table as shivers run up and down the uncharacteristically panicked skeleton, his usually calm and laid back exterior completely dissipating in the light of so many impossibilities. Alphys checks more variables, and flinches as even more questions pile up. This is worrying. Heck- worrying? Is that the best she could come up with? Sans somehow has the wrong soul- she thinks, anyway- and she called it worrying?

Suddenly, a pained gasp that sounded more like a choke comes from above her, and she looks up from her soul inspection to see sans grimacing in pain- which was a sight she'd never seen before.

His smile- it seems to be…gone?

Even in the face of the amalgam, even through the worst moods she'd ever seen him in, Sans's grin had remained permanent. Fixed. A part of him. immoveable. Now, it was contorted downwards, twisted into another shape entirely as sans grimaced, his face contorting farther in fear once he caught sight of his own reflection-

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"

Both monsters started screaming, alphys stumbling back and clutching her snout in terror as bright blue flames began to flare from sans's eyesockets, illuminating sans's terrified face as he began to tear at his own skull while both his eyes lit a vibrant cyan- both his eyes?! Why both his eyes?!- even as his screams of confusion and pain echoed through the lab as he tore at his skull in confusion, his jaw bending and stretching with his screams, which only panicked him further, sending shock waves down the bare vertebrae along his spine-

Then alphys moved.

Darting forward, she grabbed sans's clawing hands and yanked them away, even as he scratched long lines down the twisted grimace, she kept pulling- still screaming- until he finally faltered, alphys holding both his shaking hands together in a surprisingly steady grip, forcing him to stare at her with the wild, flaming cyan eyes.

Two eyes glowing.

The one that should not be lit- the blind one- was closed in a desperate attempt to withhold the flames, but as both monsters held each other's gaze, the flames slowly calmed. Sans gasped, shaking all over, breathing heavily as alphys kept his shaking and twitching hands clamped tightly between her claws, refusing to let him tear off the grimace he should not have. For a moment, both monsters were silent, sans's face suddenly a lot easier to read as pain and confusion raced across it.

It scared alphys.

She'd…never seen him with his emotions…out there, like that…

He didn't seem to like it very much either, flinching away from his reflection with an uncharacteristic whimper that seemed to dredge up from long buried emotions belonging only to the most desperate and unstable of victims.

He didn't seem to know how to control it at all.

Inside his ribcage, the faint cyan soul pulsed rapidly. Sans was not calm. His mind was a mess, a bloody, swirling mess of pain, panic, and emotions he didn't even know he could still feel- all he wanted to do was fix it, he needed to fix it, his eternal grin- it was meant to be eternal, wasn't it?- was contorted and it didn't look like him, it wasn't him and he needed to get it off, get it off, get it- His hands twitched In alphys grip, and she stared up at him, confusion and terror written across her face. Sans was mumbling to himself now, the flames from his eye sockets beginning to rise again, giving Sans a crown of brilliant blue fire that, in any other situation, would have been beautiful.

But not now.

The flames began to roar, almost forcing the closed eye open as the mumbles became gasps, ragged and choked by terror, of simply;

"Get it off get it off get it off get it off get It off-"

But alphys still held the hands that twitched and twitched, as large tears bubbled up from sans's eyes, screwed up tight against what he did not want to see, he didn't want to see his reflection, he didn't- he didn't- he didn't want to see that anymore-

But Alphys finally spoke, tears in her own eyes.

"S-sans, s-stop, p-please- y-you're sc-scaring me, I-"

Alphys voice cut through his haze of pain and fear like a dagger. Alphys. Nervous. Smart. Good friend…can keep secrets…Sans's tears still roll down the skull that twitches, twitches and contorts, but he's latched on to alphys voice like a lifeline, and the flames stilled a little when she spoke. Thank the angel, she kept talking.

"S-sans, i kn-know youre sc-scared, b-but…y-you remember wh-when y-you f-f-found out, a-about the a-amalgams, r-right?"

He does. That was technically just a few hours ago. He does remember. But he doesn't like the memory. Mochi, Darra, Krana...The flames creep higher, and his shudders get stronger.

"I-i was s-so sc-scared, o-of what- of what id d-done to th-them, of- of m-myself, a-and you h-helped me! I- i know y-you c-can calm down, i- i w-wont let g-go of your h-hands until you d-do! I p-promise, j-just please t-t-try…"

Her stuttering speech is nearly unintelligible- but thats just what happens to this shaking monster sometimes. Sans understands that… she would be hard to understand for someone who didn't know her well, but Sans has worked alongside her for a very long time, longer than even she knew. He knows her.

And…and he does remember.

He remembers her sobbing into his jacket, and he remembers countless other times he's comforted her, throughout her many insecurities and fears…he remembers days in the lab that she undoubtedly does not, but she…she's his friend. He can…he can trust her. Just for a moment. He can let his guard down. He can trust alphys.

She's one of the few people he does trust.

And so the skeleton lets go, the magic that's built up in his soul pulsing out in an invisible wave as he slips into darkness. Sans's magic slowly fades from his eyes, and he wavers, his body going limp as the toll of the panic attack crashes down on the exhausted skeleton, his mind already dark as Alphys has to step back to catch him as sans, unconscious for a myriad of reasons, falls forward, his body limp in Alphys' struggling arms. but his breath is still there, and after a moment of panic, Alphys gains some balance and manages to carefully lower Sans to the lab floor.

his gasping breathing is still ragged, even as the unconscious skeleton lies there on the cold surface, faintly cyan streaks running down his face. Alphys, slowly, pulls herself together. She wipes her tears from behind her glasses and- still trembling- goes to get some sort of pillow, just something, to make the unconscious skeleton more comfortable where he lays on the cold lab floor. She needs to get him upstairs, she…she needs to help him. But…she doesn't want him to wake up…not until she's ready. Alphys leans against the wall a moment, breathing heavily. She's glad that Sans is unconscious, half because she's terrified of another panic attack from him and half because now she can finally look at those readings and maybe do something useful for her friend.

…wait. No… she needs to call papyrus.

…sighing, then taking a deep breath, Alphys dials the number.


Meanwhile, in a secluded part of waterfall…

Gaster sits and listens as the overexcited skeleton on the other side of the door yammers away, describing his home and who lives there, and what they do. He's been talking for a while now, setting up the context for what looks to be a very…confusing story. Gaster has pulled himself together now, pushing back his emotions, and he wonders at how…different this 'blue' is to either of his sons.

It really is marvelous, a being from another timeline, another world…and he is different, very different, to be sure. On first glance- or rather on first word for me, he appears to be just like papyrus, but with the physical traits of sans…at least, as I first thought from the descriptions of his brother related to him. But as I hear more…

Gaster pauses to listen to a lengthy explanation of "blues" bullet patterns, which he claims will be very relevant later, and notes a number of clever puns the boisterous voice makes during the story.

It appears he is rather like neither- or both, I suppose- of them if you go deeper. He has an unending optimism that he most definitely stands by, but he is highly perceptive of the underlying motivations of others, unlike Papyrus, who I remember being rather naive at times despite his enthusiasm…regardless, he makes a large amount of cleverly crafted jokes too. I have laughed at many of them, despite my commitment to not treating this skeleton like my son, but it's…rather hard considering how alike he is to both of them…he reminds me of them.

Gasters own internal voice goes quiet for a long moment as the shattered skeleton thinks of his sons. Where are they? Are they safe? Are they alright…? He shakes his skull. They are highly resourceful- they'll be fine…

..anyway, the prospect of opening a real, traversable door to this entire other timeline, an entire alternate universe…! It fills me with a curiosity I had almost forgotten…But that is assuming I manage to escape this cursed prison…but with this skeletons help, perhaps I can finally go ho-

Suddenly the voice from beyond the door trails off.

"O-OH DEAR…YOU'LL HAVE TO EXCUSE ME, I-I DONT-…I -i don't…feel well…."

It's uncharacteristically quiet, and…gaster blinks at the font that coils through the door. Halfway through, it turns lowercase, something a skeleton should not be able to do- unless blue is…lowercase, but just…screaming, for some reason? But that makes no sense…Then, gaster can hear the soft scrape of fabric against his door as "blue" apparently slides onto his side, mumbling incoherently in a way that has already convinced gaster he is sick in some way. Not wasting any time, he calls for the "mysterious stranger" who he believes to be his translator-bearing friend, and hears a small "hm…?" from nearby. He calls again, louder.

?¬リᄍ ✌? ゚モᆲ? ゚モᆲ?¬リワ ?¬レミ ✍ ✋ ❄ ✋ ? ?¬ワᄀ ✞✋?¬ワヒ❄ ✌? ?¬リワ?¬レミ?¬リワ ✋ ? ?¬ワフ ✡ ? ✌ ?¬リワ✍ ✍

He calls, and hears footsteps growing closer as his friend returns, the translator coming with them.

"Oh, good! You are here, the odd visitor-"

His friend cuts him off, a thin lace of concern in their usually unbothered, winding voice.

"I know, and see, friend from beyond knowing and seeing. I will check for the ravage of damage, Tra La…"

Gaster slumps back against the firm wall of the gray room, letting out a sigh of relief as his melted body drips against the gray. He had felt worried at the troubling statement- Gaster checks himself. He promised himself that he wouldn't think of the 'new voice' as his son, no matter what. He would save all that for if he ever-

No, not if, WHEN. WHEN I escape. Because I will. I will see them again. No matter what.

Convinced that he is not associating the voice with any family member, gaster takes a metaphorical step back, scrutinizing his own emotions as only a scientist can. It's kind of useful, being able to do this, but he remembers his colleagues looking at him weirdly sometimes when he did it…

Ah…seems I have just…developed a fondness for him. his optimistic attitude is quite infectious, i'll give him that much. I always did have a tendency to get attached... One of my few qualities that hindered my scientific efforts, heh… though I suppose it helped with raising two sons on my own-

Gasters' own thoughts are cut off.

Suddenly, he feels something.

He can feel a tsunami of emotion coming from sans- his sans- his soul pulsing like it's about to break, and gaster stiffens as much as his form will allow, dread creeping up the spine he no longer has. Closing his eye sockets, he rapidly turns his mind in on itself, forcing himself to distance from the emotion and instead watch what comes by. In his mindspace, the emotion from sans's soul bursts out at the seams, and gaster can sense indescribable fear and panic tearing at his son's mind-

don't get sucked in, keep yourself distant, figure out what's going on-

But it's too strong. And, somehow, in a cruel twist of fate-

Or wait.

Is it fate…?

For, something else seems to have come, something… out of place. Somewhere else, something bleeds into being, and grins, as if it is enjoying the torture it is about to put this shattered skeleton through…And then, as the something hiding beyond the barriers of anywhere hits a command…

Gaster is pulled into his son's shuddering soul.