Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I know what you are.”

Gaster peered over his notes at the smug human child standing over him. Chara’s defiant grin split their face in two, but didn't reach their eyes, which were the iciest the color red could be.

“I beg your pardon?”

Chara impulsively shuddered as Gaster spoke. His voice was a strange composite of sounds all strung together to mimic speech, his k’s the click of a lighter, his r’s the slow grind of a hinge, his o’s borrowed from a wailing gust of wind in the depths of these caves. Still, they stretched their grin even wider. “I know what you are.”

“Oh? How do you mean?”

“You're just a puppet. A fraud. You walk around in that body like you're just another monster, but you're not. You don't have a real body.” Chara stated. There, they'd said it. They'd called him out, the freak. They knew there was a reason so few of the other monsters liked him, that they all were unnerved by him. He's hiding something Chara just knew it.

Prying brat, Gaster thought, grimacing. Chara, too, had their past, he was certain of it, but he knew well enough it was none of his business, why couldn't they offer him the same courtesy? They were entirely too clever by half, but still, he had to admit that he liked that quality in them all the same. Asriel, while a very sweet child, was content with a simple world with tidy answers. He was rather less than stimulating to talk to because of it, though Asriel didn't much care to be around him anyways. Chara, however, was not. Chara was neither simple nor sweet, their mind content to pick apart anything and everything. At first, their cunning was used to cruel effect, searching out for insecurities and bullying monsters mercilessly, but their stay with royal family had softened them somewhat to where they almost never lashed out anymore. Almost. Closing his eyes, Gaster slipped out of his body, the feeling akin to a deep sigh. He hovered slightly above Chara's eye level, the mannequin slumping over beneath his spectral form.

“Do you mean like this?”

“Ha! I knew it! I knew there was something wrong with you, you weirdo!” Chara proclaimed.

Hmph, how rude. It seemed a prime opportunity to teach the human a lesson. “That is one way to put it, I suppose. But tell me, child, how are you any different?”

“Huh?”

“Humans have SOULs, do they not? And, unlike monsters, human bodies are definitively not magical. Monster bodies are manifestations of their SOUL through magic, but that is not the case with humans, yes? Therefore, while a monster’s body and SOUL are one and the same, a human is composed of discrete parts, their physical body, and the SOUL that puppets it. So tell me, dear Chara, how is my puppeteering any different from yours?”

Chara couldn't help but let their smile slip into a scowl, which only deepened as they saw Gaster wear a similarly smug smile himself. “Well…” They started, but only drew a blank. Maybe a different approach. “Well, if a monster’s SOUL is the same as their body, then what does that make you? You don't have a real body, does that mean you're not a real monster? Or does it mean that your SOUL is defective?”

“Look around you, oh observant one. Monsters appear in a vast myriad of forms, from the animal to the mechanical to the abstract, and everything both within and without. Is it really so farfetched that my SOUL’s manifestation just doesn't have a physical component?”

“I guess not,” Chara sulked, landing hard as they sat next to Gaster’s body. They looked over it in distaste. If they could choose any body they wanted, Chara wouldn't have picked that one. It was a full sized mannequin, made of some unknown white material that was hard to the touch. Despite the layers upon layers of dark, oversized clothes he wore, they could tell that the body was ball-jointed, though despite that was still stiff and cumbersome for Gaster to use, and though he shouted at them for being nosy, they knew that his hands specifically weren't part of the original model as the seams on his forearms attested. Or at least hinted. They watched the blank face of the dummy grow the inky marks of Gaster's face as he once again possessed it, scars and all. They shuddered. “If you could've had any body at all, why'd you choose such an ugly one?”

“You're assuming it's the mannequins fault,” he chuckled, laboriously attempting to arrange himself back into an upright position. Except he couldn't. Damn, if only this thing were flexible at the midsection. Smiling sheepishly, Gaster extended his hand, “Chara, would you mind--” He didn't even need to finish his thought before the child yanked him back up. Gaster was grateful, though checked his shoulder for damage just in case. “It's functional, mostly. That's all I need it to be. Still, I can't help but feel a bit suffocated in this thing.”

Chara was looking down, pulling clumps of grass out of the garden’s loam and watching the blades twirl and sink back to the earth. He was right, about that whole souls puppeting bodies thing, that is. They mulled the concept over in their head, how every human they'd ever known was just a meat-puppet, controlled by a SOUL that might not actually be on the same plane of existence as them. Did anyone else realize this? Or were they just the last one to know?

“The concept of the SOUL and body being irreducibly separate things is called dualism, you know. It's a philosophical position most associated with Descartes, though it actually goes all the way back to Aristotle.” Perhaps he went a bit too far, he fretted as he observed Chara. He had meant to unsettle them a bit as payback for their callousness, but from the look on their face he could tell that they were upset.

“Dr. Gaster, why do you care about that philosophy crap anyways?”

“Why, the same reason I care about science, my dear. I want to know. Science was originally called natural philosophy, but just because it's the most widely studied branch doesn't change that it scratches the same itch as regular philosophy, which is ‘why?’ Well, with science it's more often ‘how’, but the enquiry still comes from the same place.”

Chara leaned back, arms planted behind them as they stared up to the sunlight filtering down through the sinkholes in the cavern’s roof. Motes of dust danced in the air above them, ignited orange by the late afternoon rays. Their own fiery eyes traced the phosphors’ languid descent. “I've got a lot of ‘why’ questions, but I don't think the answers would make things any better.”

“Oh?”

“Like, why is humanity such garbage? Does that Dey-Cart guy have any answers for that one?”

“Ah, child, do not sell your race so short,” he sighed, tousling their hair, only to have his hand smacked away.

“We are, though. We've trapped you all down here just because we could, and we never stop fighting with one another, and, sometimes…” Chara closed their eyes, “...we just come out rotten for no reason. Humans are garbage, especially me.”

Gaster turned Chara’s face toward his own. They locked eyes, the hurt and anger bubbling up from the human’s past written plain as day in their expression. “No,” he stated, “You are not rotten. You have been hurt, you have hurt others, but rotten? No. I cannot believe that.” Chara squirmed out of his grip and went back to sulking, the patch of grass before them beginning to look quite barren. “His Majesty has asked you not to do that,” he chided. “Here,” he said, pulling a string of wooden beads from his cloak, “I'll lend these for you to fidget with.”

Taking the beads, Chara worked them through their hands. Pale and smooth, they supposed they might be made out of pine if their scent was anything to go by. They'd seen Gaster fidget with them before; he never seemed to put them down. “Thanks,” Chara mumbled, the surviving grass left to mourn its fallen compatriots unperturbed. “Doctor, how come you don't hate humanity? Don't you miss the surface?”

“Personally, I actually don't. Miss the surface, that is. What memories I have of it, which are sparse, aren't ones I care to reminisce on. But, I do understand why everyone else wants to return. Crowding, dreariness, even you've said you miss the stars. As for humanity...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bitter about the War, but again, it's mostly for personal reasons. I saw firsthand how wicked humans can be without realizing the damage they're doing, without even realizing they're unjustified. And yet...I know they can do better, if they only try. Just like you, little tyrant.” he teased.

They scoffed. Still, Chara appreciated the comment. They had been such a tool when they first fell into the Underground. It took more than a few stern lectures from Toriel and Asgore to keep them from causing mayhem, but they had started to win their adoptive parent’s approval lately. They hadn't realized how good it felt to have parents be proud of you, how it felt to be liked, for once. Even so, they doubted humanity figuring out how to be less garbage was as simple as giving out more hugs.

“Hey, Chara! Look what I--oh…” Asriel had bolted into the garden, fluffy ears streaming behind him, stopping in his tracks as he saw Gaster jump at his shouting. “Oops, hehe, sorry Doctor,” he said, suddenly looking uncertain. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nah, we were just talking,” Chara said, dusting off their pants as they stood up, “What'd you find?”

“I found a board game down in the garbage dump, and look! It's still in plastic wrap, so it's gotta have all the pieces!” Despite the prince's excitement, Gaster was perceptive to the fact that Asriel kept glancing sidelong at him over Chara’s shoulder. “Um,” he began, toying with the white fur on his ear, “Dr. Gaster, would, um, would you like to play too?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I need to return to my work.” Gaster perceived, too, the relief in Asriel’s face at his declination.

“See ya, Dr. G,” Chara said, waving flippantly as they joined their adoptive brother, the two children chattering to each other as they wandered back down the path to their living quarters. Humming quietly, the doctor returned his focus back down to his reports.

Chapter Text

He couldn't help but snicker as he eyed up the disgruntled Chara; they had assumed the most sarcastic and disdainful position they possibly could, potentially at the expense of their spine’s health, in their lobby seat. Toriel smiled politely up at him as she stood up. “Good afternoon, your Majesty,” Gaster said, bowing as was expected of him, “I assure you that I shall use the fullest extent of my knowledge of humans to ensure Chara is in the best health they can be.” Behind her mother, Chara scoffed. The two adults exchanged apologetic glances as Gaster straightened himself.

“Chara, please be on your best behavior for the doctor,” Toriel said sternly, and, despite the accompanying eyeroll, they responded with a prolonged ‘fiiiiine.’ “And Doctor, please do try to be...mindful.”

“Of course.” What? What on earth did that mean? Gaster maintained his cool demeanor as he scrutinized the Queen’s statement. Was she taking him for a mad scientist, content to dissect her precious child without discretion? Admittedly, he was rather exuberant about his research, but he wasn’t nearly so undisciplined, especially towards so rare a specimen as a live human. Oh. Perhaps it would be unwise to refer to the Queen’s child as a ‘specimen.’ "Shall we head back?” he said, offering his hand to Chara. Scoffing once again, they hopped off their chair and walked straight past him towards the elevator. Very well then. He turned to follow.

"I will see you tonight, my child!”

"Bye, Mom!”

Gaster pressed the button to open the elevator doors. "After you,” he ushered. As the polished steel doors closed, he noticed Chara fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. "You look nervous.”

''No,'' Chara snapped, entirely too defensively to be even remotely convincing, even to themselves.

"I couldn't blame you for it, seeing as I'm rather anxious myself.” He saw Chara cock their head, so he elaborated. "Not only is human physiology a completely foreign field for me, but its been ages since I've practiced medicine. In actuality, you should be having your examination done by Dr. Kobold; for one who's supposed to be retired, he's always 'stepping in’ to do physician work at the hospital. He told the king that he would be absent, ever so conveniently, because of such-and-such problems he needs to help his daughter with, the fibber.”

"Why do you call him that?”

"Because Alphys was joking about her father's excuse-making with me just yesterday. To think. MY old mentor is slacking off!” he laughed.

The elevator landed with a jolt, nearly knocking the both of them off balance. “Curse this fickle thing,” he grumbled as he braced himself with his cane, “I swear, I tell them every time they need to check the power supply to the EM tether, every time! Well, come on.” Gaster walked a ways forward, only to realize Chara remained behind.

“Doc, why didn't that Kobold guy want to see me?”

Gaster shifted from side to side, unsure how to respond. “I've blathered too much. Come along, Chara.”

“If he’s, y’know, an actual medical doctor, why'd he leave it to you?”

“I'm sure he has his reasons--”

“Does he hate humans?”

Gaster beckoned Chara near, which, surprisingly, they obliged him. Leaning in and with voice low, he said, “Dr. Kobold lost his wife in the War during a human ambush. She was a medic, caught completely unarmed during the attack. I can't see Kobold hating anybody, but...I suppose he's not ready to come face to face with a human just yet.” Standing up, he turned his back and set off, trusting that the child had the sense to follow him. He couldn't have expected it when he felt Chara’s hand slip into his own free one. Their sudden clinginess concerned Gaster, but for now he simply held their hand back.

The walk to Gaster's office wasn't far, but all the while Chara craned their neck around every doorway they could. Monsters within in various states of medical treatment waved back as they passed by. Gaster felt a tug on his arm as Chara stopped dead in their tracks.

"What is THAT?”

"That's a multipurpose metavital spectrometer. Used to examine a monster's SOUL by generating an electromagnetic field and recording the various energy jumps from the interaction with the monster's ambient magic. It's for detecting imbalances in the SOUL that disrupt a monster's body or magic casting.”

“It looks like an MRI machine if it was designed by a wizard. Do ya think it'd have any effect on humans?”

“Oh if only I had the chance, I'd be ecstatic to put you in there and get a good look at a human SOUL, but that will have to wait. One, we have far too much to get done today, and two, Kobold would never let me hear the end of it if I threw off the machine’s calibrations, which I'd almost certainly have to do to tune in to what a human SOUL might resonate at. Now come along, please, we cannot procrastinate.” Gaster strode forward once again to his office, nearly dragging Chara as they continued to rubber-neck at every turn, only placated when Gaster offered to give them a tour after their appointment. Huffing petulantly, Chara marched into the sterile office, eyeing up the mountain of books stacked in the corner next to the piles of folders and notebooks that were layered upon the desk, with encroached on the space already occupied by medical apparati. As he closed the door, Gaster impulsively reached for his worry beads; he hadn't felt this anxious since he presented his thesis. Staying his hand, he instead straightened his lab coat decisively. You've studied weeks for this, Wings, he thought, you're the foremost expert on humans in the entire Underground. Let the exam begin.

"Right, if you could go over there a moment…” Gaster said, sifting through his materials and grabbing what was most pertinent, "...and if you could just take off your--”

Turning around, he found Chara already in a state of undress, pants discarded on the floor and in the process of removing their shirt. "Your SHOES… s-so I can get... your height and weight…”

''Oops.” Chara's face burned red as they scrambled to fix their gaff.

''If you'd be more comfortable--'’

"I'm sorry!” Chara snapped, leaning moodily against the wall as they pulled their pants up.

Gaster adjusted Chara against the wall, straightening them up. Using the folder he was holding, he marked off their height. "To the scale now, please.”

"Hey, Doc? What are you actually gonna do to me?” Chara asked, fidgeting with their shirt hem again.

"Take your height, weight, length and circumference of your extremities, test your reflexes, sensitivity of your senses, then an onceover for any diseases. Is that agreeable to you?”

“That’s it? What, you’re not gonna experiment on me? Put me in a cage like a monkey and poke me until I give up all my human secrets?” Chara grinned venomously.

“Her majesty wouldn’t much care for that,” Gaster replied, preoccupied with scratching notes down.

“But wouldn’t you want to though? C’mon, you’ve gotta be just itching for a chance to get an inside look at a human, aren’tcha?” Chara seized his lab coat, looking up at him with madness in their eyes. “Dissect me!” they hissed.

Gaster merely flicked them on the forehead. Foolish. “Ow, that kinda hurt,” they whined, rubbing the indent as Gaster idled away from them, returning with a tape measure.

“Right arm up, please.” Chara complied, wind taken out of their sails, as Gaster measured them further. Focusing on his work, he looked up as he swore he heard Chara mumble something. “What was that?”

“I said, sorry for being weird,” they looked away as they spoke. “It’s kinda just, y’know, a thing I do…”

“So I’ve noticed. Both arms up now, please.” He continued to work, an uncomfortable atmosphere between the two. Scratching down more measurements, he thumbed through his reference; human medical books were always so organized in comparison to their monster counterparts, but he supposed they had to be with the sheer quantity of information they had to convey. Perhaps he was just biased, as the only medical books for monsters were at best decades old and at worst centuries. Seeing as there were so few monsters now, there were even fewer able to specialize in medicine, or writing for that matter, as it was only in the last century or so that literacy was even valued. Even then, most of what founded monster medicine could only examine up to what their understanding of magic entailed; most physical analyses were next to useless on beings made of SOUL. But humans, humans were an entirely different matter, practically nothing but physical components, all interlocking like biological automatons. Like animals, he thought. He’d dissected a few in his time, frogs, cats, rats, limited by what was available in the Underground, his low tolerance for the work, and the taboo among monsters about disturbing the dead. He didn’t need to learn that lesson again, as he recalled the horror in Kobold’s face when he found his assistant wrist deep in the entrails of a rat, and the ensuing tongue-lashing it had earned him.

His head jerked up as he heard something slip. Chara had grown tired of waiting for him to find himself in his thoughts and had slumped down the wall to sit cross-legged on the floor. Gaster eyed them there, Chara’s words echoing in his head. What he wouldn’t give to dissect an actual human, repulsive as he knew the thought should be to him. “That weirdness of yours makes you entirely too clever by half.”

“Huh?”

“I wonder, would you be able to explain me something?” Gaster said, digging through his books with a sudden fervor, pulling the target out of the stack with no regard to the small avalanche in its wake. Crouching down next to them, he opened it to a heavily annotated chapter. “The interesting thing about humans is their physicality, their nerves, muscles, organs, all working together like a meat factory. Including…” he tapped against Chara’s forehead, “…this. According to this book, it says that the brain is the sum total of a human’s thoughts, emotions, experiences. But, your brain is composed of nerves, just like the ones in the rest of your body, controlled the exact same way. Your brain is controlled by chemicals, neurotransmitters, no more spiritual than a chemical reaction. All of this points to humans being just animals, and yet…”

“Wait, wait! Hold on, whoa!” Chara scrambled back, pinned between the wall they were leaning against and the back wall, trapped into a corner, holding their hands out defensively. Their face was written with fear. “What do you, how do you, wait…Okay, I know you don’t have a real body, but, like, other monsters do, right? They have bodies that, like, function, right?”

Chuckling gently, Gaster sat down cross-legged, book laid onto his lap. “Monsters do have physical bodies, yes, but it’s a bit different. We’re not like humans or animals, our bodies are, how do I put this, cosmetic? Any close examination of a monster’s body shows that whatever systems there are, they aren’t consistent, persistent, connected. We are magical beings, our bodies are whatever our SOUL requires them to be. Humans are so…specific. All those systems required to be in perfect working order, or close enough to perfect, else humans cease to function. But, where, in all these systems, could your soul be hiding? It’s so strange; no physics equation needs god to complete it, no chemical reaction requires a soul. And yet, humans most assuredly do have souls. Powerful ones, able to rewrite reality itself if it were a monster soul of equivalent power. Humans should be equivalent to gods in terms of sheer magical potential.”

“But, we’re, I’m…not.”

“Quite the mystery, isn’t it?” Standing up, he offered his hand to the child below. “I suppose you wouldn’t know. None of the textbooks I’ve read have any answers, neither do books on spiritual matters, though at least they offer theories. I oughtn’t’ve expected a layperson to know, much less a child.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry I couldn’t help,” Chara said, coming back up to their feet, “You know I was just joking about that whole dissecting thing, right? You’re not actually gonna, y’know…”

“Most assuredly I will not.”

Chapter Text

“Chara, Chara, look at this!” Asriel shouted, holding his prize above his head.

“Well, what is it?” Chara replied, ceasing their probing through the murky water around their knees.

Sliding down the trash pile he’d been scavenging through, Asriel landed in the water with a clumsy splash onto his backside, but all the while holding the package high in the air and well above the surface. Chara cackled at their ‘little’ brother, but helped them to their feet. “Tada!” Asriel presented his claim with a flourish.

“Whoa, you found a GameCube? Sweet!” Chara snatched the box from him, tearing at the soggy packaging. If they were extra lucky, the water might not have soaked all the way through. “Man, this brings back memories! I had one of these when I was really young, I played it almost constantly. Those discs I’m always collecting? They’re for this thing and they play games and—hey, wait! Y’know, some more games might’ve fallen down with it! C’mon, let’s go look!”

Chara splashed through the murk, Asriel running ahead of them in renewed excitement. Scrabbling up the pile, the two commenced digging. Chara’s mind raced; they were going to blow their brother’s mind when they introduced him to videogames. They were mulling over which title would be best to start off with, it’d have to be something fairly easy so Asriel wouldn’t get frustrated, but they knew he’d want a good story too and—

Chara’s head snapped up. There, movement, near that stalactite. They squinted. No, too dark. Whatever it was must have left. Huffing, they returned to clawing through the garbage. Idiot, what are you doing getting jumpy at a few rats, Chara told themself. Even then, it was hard to convince themself it was just a rat. It was way too big to be just a rat. They glanced at the stalactite again. Nothing. Well, if it wasn’t a rat, it was probably a monster, then they’d have even less to fear.

“I’m not finding any discs…” Asriel sighed, sitting back on his toes. He brushed his fur out of his face, smearing it with grease in the process. Scanning the cavern, his head snapped toward a glimmer. “Hey! I think I found one! Over there!”

“Azzy, be careful!” Chara called out, but Asriel was already halfway up the pile. They watched him dig for a bit, an uneasy feeling in their chest about a large box a little ways above Asriel’s searching. Those kind of boxes were almost always empty, just big, scary husks, but still… Chara’s eyes flicked around the pile. There! They were sure they didn’t imagine it this time, and they were positive it was bigger than a rat. Way bigger. “Hey,” they shouted, wading through the murk towards their brother, “Did you hear me? I said be—“

A shift, the sound of tearing metal, a scream. A dark blur leaping out of the shadows. Shrieking their brother’s name, Chara flailed as they attempted to run through the water to where he landed face down. They pulled Asriel up with every ounce of strength they had, his coughing up water echoing off the cavern walls. He clung to them, shaking, fur soaked with mud, and, as the shock began to wear off, tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Azzy, it’s okay, you’re gonna be alright,” Chara said, squeezing him into a hug. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Um, I…” Asriel continued to sob.

Something shifted behind them, accompanied with the sound of scraping glass. Chara shifted in front of Asriel, hands balled into fists near their own face, ready to strike if the need arose. Surveying the pile, they took in the aftermath; there, an umbrella supporting a palette that had been knocked out, a shift in balance, that box they were worried about tipped onto its side, now shredded by its fall, a refrigerator having crushed—oh no.

The dark shape shifted again, half pinned by the fallen appliance, the broken-plate sound heard again as it moved. Hands slowly emerged from the murk, pushing against the cave floor, a face, stark against the darkness, raised up, glaring at the both of them. “You stupid brats.” Gaster hissed.

“Y-your leg…” Asriel started to hyperventilate. Swathed in Gaster’s excessive clothes as it was, there was no hiding that his left leg was crushed below the knee, the remnants beneath the fridge. Chara clung to Asriel, breaking out in a cold sweat as they tried to keep their brother from panicking further.

Gaster sighed deeply, irritably, and rather devoid of the agony such an injury should be causing. “Asriel, calm yourself. I am not hurt—”

“B-but your leg!”

“Hush!” he hissed again, pulling himself forward. “If you want to help, find my cane, please.”

“I can try to use my healing magic! I’ve been practicing, I’m sure I could—”

“Cane. Now, please.”

“C’mon, Az,” Chara said, pulling him along, “The Doc was over that way, he probably left it there.” They squeezed his hand; giving him a job might get him to do something other than panic, they hoped. It wasn’t too long of a search; the polished black rod was too clean to blend in with the rest of the trash. At least it hadn’t sunk into the water, Chara thought. Asriel practically raced back to the scientist, which proved to be a less than wise move as he tripped over his own feet in his rush. A conjured hand caught him before he landed face first, Gaster nonchalantly pushing him back upright as he sat.

“Here it is,” Asriel said, timidly handing over the ebony cane. With barely an acknowledgement, Gaster grasped at the handle and gave it a sharp twist. Setting the top piece in his lap, his slender fingers pulled out a scroll tube, a perfect fit for its secret compartment. Scanning the crisp scroll inside, mumbling slightly, he intently read whatever he was looking for, and, closing his eyes, began to concentrate. Chara watched, fascinated, as a leg magically reformed where the old one had been. What was on that scroll? They’d never seen a monster need to read a spell to use their magic before. Their eyes fixated on it as it was just as deftly hidden away.

“You…have that spell written down?” Asriel probed, concern written across his face. “Does losing your limbs…um…happen often to you?”

“I think I’ll keep that to myself, little prince,” Gaster chuckled. “I appreciate your offer to heal me, but, I’ve learned a long time ago that healing magic doesn’t work on my body.” He held up one finger to silence the quickly-becoming-teary-again Asriel. “Do not fret, my prince, I am not crippled. There are other ways I can patch myself up.” He returned to his feet, smoothing out his crumpled robes. “Wish I had an extra pair of shoes,” he grumbled. “Oh, speaking of healing magic…”

Chara yelped as they felt a hand seize their wrist, pulling it above their head. Their eyes darted down, cursing themselves for not being quite stealthy enough to get a peek at that scroll, but as their sleeve was pulled down, they realized, face burning red, that that was not what Gaster was interested in. They grit their teeth, glaring daggers up at the doctor, who was placidly examining their scars. “Ah, there are new ones I see. Asriel, you have not been complicit this time, have you?”

“No sir,” he said, eyes darting away as Chara directed their scowl towards him. Chara’s face burned with shame; it was impossible to hide their scars during the medical exam, and neither were they able to hide how they got them, the doctor seeing through every lie they spoke. Gaster had assured them that whatever they said would be completely confidential, that not a word would be whispered of this to Toriel and Asgore, and, now hating their lapse in defenses, Chara confessed to their cutting and subsequent recruitment of their brother to magically erase the evidence. Not a week later did their adoptive parents beset them, distraught over their ward, prying and nagging and fretting over them constantly now.

“You said you wouldn’t tell,” Chara said tersely.

“And I kept my word,” Gaster replied, giving a glib gesture towards Asriel, the incrimination implicit yet apparent. “And I still intend to keep it. I am a doctor, and I will uphold confidentiality.” Another gesture towards Asriel. “What happens next, that is a family matter.”

Chara ripped her arm out of his grasp. “Well what were you doing here anyways, spying on us? Were you planning on not being a creep and saying hello?”

“No, I rather wasn’t,” Gaster said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “I had been hoping to have a quiet day searching for human books, but no, it seems now I’m going to have to babysit you two. Joy.” He offered hands to the children, grasping onto their own, “Now follow me, please. I cannot leave you in a place as unsafe as this.”

It was a short walk back into ‘town,’ the small collection of houses that both the fish girl Undyne lived and where the three Blook cousins tended their snails, as well as a clam family, maybe. Chara couldn’t quite remember, they’d only seen them a few times. There were a few other bungalows, but monsters in Waterfall were especially reclusive. Maybe that was why Gaster liked it so much. Chara liked it for that reason anyways. That and the ‘stars’ on the ceiling. They stopped in the center of town, near the quiet pond, its water perfectly, windlessly, eerily, calm, before Gaster finally let them go.

Chara watched Gaster, the man’s eyes fixed on the crystal lake, seemingly contemplating something. Finally, he spoke, voice hoarse. “It is a long walk back. I won’t be able to make it with my leg like this. Dark terrain, too.” He sighed, more out of resignation than exertion, “Follow me, please.”

Asriel grasped their sibling’s hand before they trotted behind their chaperone, dragging Chara along. Down a quiet pathway, out to the edge of town, where Gerson sat outside his store and whittled as he and Undyne laughed together raucously, Gaster keeping as distant as he could from them, slipping down yet another side tunnel. Slate colored rock, roughhewn and damp, gave way to a deep cleft, a rushing stream threatening to overflow from the rift. The surrounding walls drew one’s eyes forward, toward the rush, toward the darkness, toward the boat. Toward the Riverperson.

“Would you like to ride in my boat?” the Riverperson sang, their hooded face observing the party approaching. It was hard to tell, but Chara could have sworn that there was a softer timbre in the cloaked one’s voice than usual.

“Could you take us to Hotland, please?” Asriel piped up, fiddling with his lop-ears nervously. The Riverperson nodded, offering him a hand in. Chara clambered in after him, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor. This time they definitely didn’t imagine it when they saw the doctor and their captain hold hands for just a bit too long as Gaster climbed in. He too sat on the boat’s floor, a pensive look upon his face.

“Then we’re off.”

Despite the turbulent water, the boat glided expertly, magically, through the waves. The light around them faded until one could barely see their hand in front of their face, much less the tunnel around them. They could have travelled ten feet or a thousand miles this way, none of them the wiser about which it was, accompanied only by the Riverperson’s soft humming as it echoed around them in a pleasant harmony. Chara almost wished they could have listened to it longer as they pulled back into the light, telltale heat announcing their arrival in Hotland. “The water is especially wet today,” the captain quipped as they expertly drew near to the shore.

“Funny you should mention it, I’d been thinking the same thing,” Gaster said back, as blasé as ever. Weirdos, Chara thought disdainfully.

“Tra la la. Come again sometime,” the Riverperson said, their hood slipping down to further obscure their face. It didn’t even take a heartbeat for Gaster to turn heel and hobble away, his pace practically screaming how badly he wanted to be anywhere but here. Red granite gravel crunched beneath their feet as they left the river alcove. The air was filled with the acrid charring of the lava below, the mechanical hum of the machinery that founded Hotland itself mixing with distant conversation from the busy mezzanines above. Monsters, some in medical coats and scrubs, bustled in and out of the hospital nearby, as focused and self contained as the surrounding mechanical infrastructure.

"Right,"Gaster started, dragging the two towards the public elevator to the north, pushing them towards the polished steel doors,"Up to the third floor, to the left, through the Royal Apartments, either take the elevator in there or enter the CORE and take the first elevator you see In the Auditorium and head to the other elevator in the back. Now, shoo!" With that, he turned heel, stumbling on account of his missing leg, and made his way back the way he came.

"Goodbye, Dr. Gaster, thank you for saving me! Get well soon!" Asriel waved, rewarded with only a dismissive grunt from the retreating scientist. "Come on, Chara, let's go home." Stepping through into the carriage, Asriel held his hand against the door frame to keep them ajar. "Um, hey, did you hear me? We should really get going."

Chara did not hear their brother. Chara was lost in thought, their eyes closely tracing the path of Gaster as he left. Chara was forming a plan. "You go on ahead Azzy, I've gotta go and ask Gaster something."

"Don't take too long, okay? I'll get worried about you."

"I won’t¬¬¬," Chara shouted over their shoulder as they took off, jogging back to the plaza in front of the hospital. Scanning the sparse crowd, their irritation grew as they realized they might have already lost him. Well, let’s try retracing my steps. Moving quickly, they slipped back down the corridor to the Riverperson. Damn, Chara was sure that they would have returned here. Kneeling in their boat, and perhaps seeming somewhat forlorn beneath that obfuscating robe of theirs, they looked up suddenly, eagerly, only to deflate when they saw Chara alone. They pointed languidly in the direction of the juncture between Hotland and Waterfall, a certain chill to their demeanor. “Thanks,” Chara said, turning tail. That mystery would have to wait for another day.

Their steps echoed across the crags of the tunnel, the red and green neon of the “Welcome to Hotland” sign casting a sickly glow over everything. Chara had lied about needing to ‘ask’ Gaster something, but his presence was still required. Let it never be said that they would leave a score unsettled, and the good doctor certainly had created a score to be settled. Chara rubbed their forearm, fingers brushing their scars, bitter taste in their mouth. Now, how to settle this score, they mulled.

Peering out of the jagged spire’s opening, they squinted across the rickety bridge. Yep, there he was, already having limped to the other side. It wasn’t hard to tail him, his arduous pace no match for their ninja-like stalking. Chara did a few faux kung fu strikes to the air just for good measure. Their journey had given them a bit of time to formulate their revenge; it was perfect. Mushrooms dotted the marsh in droves, and through happenstance Chara had learned that the luminescent ooze inside them continued to glow, even if spattered on the clothes of a brother. When the stains finally faded, an ugly mold-blue splotch persisted, no matter how many times you tried to wash it out. They snickered. Reclusive, retiring, standoffish Gaster, glowing like a neon lamp as he tried to make his way home, those ugly clothes of his satisfyingly destroyed; it’d be the perfect revenge.

The dusky light and damp foliage was perfect cover for Chara to run ahead. Turning to a secluded alcove, they plunged their hands deep into the peat and clawed up the glowing fungi, careful not to break the rubbery skin. Shoving them beneath their shirt to obscure the light, they returned to the main path, the moss path giving a gentle glow. A sudden flare illuminated the blackness; Gaster had lit the lamp at the far end of the cavern. Slinking low, violet crystals shimmering as they collected what photons they could around them, Chara lied in wait.

Move faster, Chara grumbled internally, the damp starting to seep back into their clothes. Gaster hobbled ever closer, his eyes trained on a thousand yards away with an unparalleled intensity, completely lost in thought. The rushes and ferns swept and bent against his dark cloak as if they were cowering as he passed. Closer, closer… Chara grabbed a mushroom out, cutting the skin with their fingernails as they put their best baseball pitch behind their spongy projectile. Ducking down just as quickly, they grinned maniacally as the luminescent spores and slime spattered all across its target.

Then, nothing. Not even a grunt of disgust or acknowledgement that he had been assaulted with fungi and currently glowing. Just the same slow, intent pace as before as he passed by Chara’s hiding spot. They reeled back again, launching another mushroom into his back, goop once again spattered across his coat. Nothing. Chara grit their teeth, dropping the rest of their projectiles. Who the hell did this guy think he was? He was doing this to spite them, wasn’t he? Stupid, ugly, weird, no wonder you don’t have any friends, you freak. They fumed as they watched him go. On impulse, they reached down and grasped a stone, lobbing it in his direction. It plunged into the mud at his feet: nothing. They chucked another rock, harder this time. Shit! They held their breath as Gaster stumbled, spidery cracks spread along the back of his skull where the rock had hit. Reaching back, his hand shook as he traced the new fissure, the silence of the cave becoming deafening. His head turned mechanically, eyes locking on to the exact location Chara hid; he knew they were there, Chara was sure of it, skin going clammy at the realization. The two were in a perfect standoff, Chara tensed and primed to run, Gaster holding his steely gaze at one that patch of reeds, daring them to make a move. It was an eternity, Gaster tracing the holes in his hands with his fingers. Finally, clasping his hands together, he turned away.

Chara slumped, gasping as quietly as they could for the air they forgot to breathe during the encounter. I hate you, they thought, face hot as they glared at him. Freak. Brushing off the loam from their shorts, they started to slink away. Azzy was probably wondering where they were anyways.

Half a step. Half a step to the right and they wouldn’t have slipped. Half a step and they wouldn’t have fallen on their knees. Half a step and they wouldn’t have landed on that rock and yelped in pain, their cry might as well have been a gunshot for as loud as it sounded in the silence. They heard a snarl behind them, scrambling to their feet in terror as they saw Gaster advance towards them, fires of hell in his eyes. The marshy ground was impossible to gain traction for running, and they fell back down to the muck, flailing forward as they looked wild-eyed behind them. That sluggish pace Gaster had was now a menacing advance, rage twisting his face and ever growing as he closed in on the child. One last futile lurch forward and Chara was stuck, franticly kicking and clawing backwards. Squeezing their eyes shut, Chara felt tears squeeze out, hyperventilating. It wasn’t supposed to go this far, they knew they should have given up long before this. They screamed, the only thing left they could do.

The echoes reverberated over and over, reflected from every angle, but that was all Chara could hear. No more shuffling, no more cursing, the room was disorientingly quiet. They pried their eyes open, inky ceiling above filling them with vertigo. Sitting up, they looked downward to the path, and what rested upon it. On his knees, his false leg dissipated, Gaster stared down, mouth slightly agape. His hands twitched in front of his face, fingers flicking in a rhythmic yet alien manner. Was he trying to cast a spell? He looked dazed. Chara stood cautiously, eyes trained on the man before him. They watched as he looked around stunned, grasping uncertainly for his cane. For a while, he just held on to it, rolling it between his hands, silent. His head lifted, his thousand-yard stare brought back to earth as he focused his eyes at Chara. Chills ran down their spine as they watched his mouth move, the sounds completely unintelligible as words. Gaster’s composite-sound voice was always unnerving, but this failure of coherence was far, far worse. Now he was signing something, slowly, deliberately, like to a child. Chara shook their head, mouth dry; they didn’t understand, they couldn’t understand. What was going on?

He growled, a low, throaty warning as he narrowed his eyes at Chara. He began dragging himself to his feet with his cane supporting him. Startled, Chara shrieked as they stepped back defensively; it was just instinct. Gaster’s hands flew up to where his ears would be if he were human, collapsing back down to the soil, hissing like a viper as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t maintain eye contact, trying and failing to look Chara in the face, a stream of mumbled gibberish and meaningless hand motions came from him, unable to convey anything. I broke him, Chara thought, every muscle tensed in their body. I broke this guy. I’m gonna be in such deep shit with Mom and Dad. All I did was shout, why’s he reacting like this? What do I do now? They looked down at him, lip curling. Well he’ll get over it, they assured themselves, he’s the adult here, he’ll pull himself together. Yeah, what’s his problem anyways?

“You’re not a dog and you’re not a snake, idiot, don’t growl or hiss at me,” Chara said, growing more irritated by the minute. “What even are you? Your leg was crushed, your head was bashed in by a rock, but no-o, you’re freaking out because I was loud. Get up. And don’t pull down my sleeve next time.” They turned to leave, a string of nonsense sounding behind them, tone suspiciously accusatory. Oh that was it. “Use your big boy words, Doc,” Chara sniped in a saccharine voice, grin dripping with disdain. Another growl answered them, hands conjured around Gaster’s head twitching in an equally alexical fashion as the one’s attached to his arms. “Say something!” they shouted, Gaster flinching and growling again like a caged animal. Chara felt the whole situation was absurd; here at their feet was the Royal Scientist, arguably the most knowledgeable and practiced in both the mundane and arcane philosophies in the whole world, certainly the whole Underground, and he was reduced to a useless maniac by yelling at him. They felt powerful. They felt good. Chara’s smile grew wider.

Chara screamed, shrill and loud, watching Gaster shake and writhe. God he was pathetic. What a freak, they thought as he hissed back at them, rocking and twitching below. They screamed again and again, louder and louder, nearly giggling at the mess of a man beneath them. Look at him shake, he’s practically crying, he looks like he’s about to pass out. Sucking in air to their lungs’ full capacity, they prepped themselves to break his head in two. They didn’t get the chance. A keening, agonized shriek resounded from Gaster as he clutched his head, but that wasn’t what caused Chara to choke. They went white as they beheld the monstrosity before them, a huge, moon white animal skull floating above. The triangular shape, the scintillating eyes, and the fangs longer than their forearm told them instantly what it was supposed to be: a snake. They only had enough time to see its jaw unhinge as they turned to flee. Sprinting as fast as they could into the dark, they threw themselves into the reeds and black water, slogging through the muck as an energy beam fired above their head. Holding their breath, they crawled through the water, hoping to whatever was out there that that thing wouldn’t be able to find them. They only just slipped away into a paddy of echo flowers as the skull fired another beam into their patch of grass, coughing mud out of their mouth as they continued to run. Have to keep going, have to keep going, they chanted, trying to wipe the grit out of their eyes as they splashed forward, ferns whipping at their arms and legs. I can’t let it catch me, I just need too—

Chara collided into something, tumbling head over heels as their limbs entangled with the obstacle. They were winded as they were socked in the gut, gasping and juddering as they squirmed back to the shallow pool’s surface. Eyes wild, their head pivoting frantically as they searched for their pursuer.

“Chara, oh my god! Are you okay?” Asriel grabbed their sibling’s shoulders as they huffed and sniffled. Chara was in an appalling state, soaked to the bone, caked in mud and grass, and beginning to sob. He rubbed their back as they reeled, offering soothing words as the two of them sat in the pool among the echo flowers. “Are you hurt? What happened? Did you find the doctor?”

“I-I screwed up, I really really really screwed up,” Chara sobbed, clinging to Asriel. With their brother’s coaxing, they were eventually able to put their thoughts together. “Azzy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too,” they choked out, “I-I, the doctor, and…I’ve screwed up everything!”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. Why don’t you start from the beginning? What did you have to ask the doctor about?” Azzy, you’re too good for this earth, Chara thought as they wiped their tears away with their sleeve.

“I’m sorry, I lied to you,” they began, “I chased after Gaster because I was mad at him. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I swear! I was mad he exposed my scars so I wanted to prank him, and then I got madder and things just went out of control and, and…We got into a fight, and I think I hurt him really bad…” Chara felt sick to their stomach as they admitted to their sins.

Asriel tugged at his ears. “Oh man…hang on, we can fix this, maybe we can get Dad or Undyne to help—”

“No,” Chara whispered, grabbing his shoulders, “Oh my god, Azzy, please don’t, I’ll get in so much trouble. Please, just, just, I don’t know…Can you help me?”

“I’ll help, I’ll help, I promise,” Asriel said. He pulled even harder on his ears, eyes misting up. “Chara, if what’s going on is really as bad as you say it is, I really don’t think we should go alone.”

“Can we just try? I’m already in such deep trouble, I just want to see if I can fix this, please…” they begged.

Asriel took a deep breath. “Okay, but as soon as we finish we’re going straight to Undyne’s and getting her help. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Alright. Now you’ve gotta tell me what happened. Um, how about you start from when you left me at the elevator.”

Head hung low, Chara confessed their crimes. It felt like a knife twisted in their chest when they saw the look Asriel gave them when they admitted to throwing rocks at Gaster, but they knew they deserved their brother’s scorn. Fumbling for the words to explain, they finished their recollection in a half-baked petering out to an accusatory silence, even the echo flowers sounded strangely muted. “Chara, are you sure we shouldn’t get an adult to help find Gaster? It might be dangerous…” Chara’s sniffling gave Asriel all the answer they needed. “Fine, okay, I guess we should get going then.”

In their mad dash, Chara hadn’t realized just how far they had run, realizing that they had made it almost to the bridge to Hotland. As the two trudged back towards the dark, they realized just how much energy they had burned. Arms made of lead, feet barely able to move forward, they systematically tensed each of their muscles to keep their blood pumping and headspace awake. “Azzy, we’ve gotta be careful. Gaster summoned something to fight me, and it’ll probably still be in the area. It was like a giant floating snake skull that shot lasers.”

“Um…?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds nuts. Anyways, we can’t let it see us. I don’t think we’ll be able to use any of the lanterns on the path. Stay low, stay close, and we’ll probably find Gaster pretty quickly; he’s not exactly able to go very far right now.”

"Yeah, I suppose he can't, can he?"

Chara bit their lip at Asriel's remark; heart sinking low. Why were they like this? Why did they have to ruin everything? I can wallow in self-pity later, Chara thought, I've got a mad scientist to rescue. Grabbing their brother's arm, they pulled them close to the wall, peering into the inky abyss before them. Trying to see anything was useless, so they strained to hear for danger; only the ambience of dripping water replied. "Azzy, can you see or hear anything?" He only shook his head. Well, nothing left to do but start walking.

Chara gripped their brother's hand tightly as the shuffled forward, feeling around carefully with their feet for the firm ground of the path, cautious to splashing into the murk. So far so good, they thought as they concentrated on keeping both their breath and Asriel steady, we've still got aways to go, but--

Chara stared into the open maw of the skull, fangs glinting with the energy coalescing in its jaws, only just dragged to the ground below by Asriel as the fiend unleashed its rage. The energy beam screamed as it tore through the air, the two children sinking into the water to hide. It turned to their hiding place, only for an amber flare to shoot across the room. Asriel sighed as he sank back down, lowering his arm from when he cast his spell, the construct diverted to its new target. “How did it find us? What did we do wrong?” Asriel gulped, shaking.

Where had they gone wrong? Chara’s mind flipped through all the possibilities frantically: did it smell us, did it hear us? It couldn’t have seen us, its pitch black. Unless… “It’s a snake. It has heat vision,” Chara croaked, realizing that it was a definite possibility that they were cornered. “Azzy, do you know anything about heat vision?” they pleaded.

Asriel was shaking, Chara could tell from holding his hand, but they felt that he was deep in thought. “I think I remember,” Asriel started, “That reptile monsters sense the heat off of warm bodied things. Maybe if we stay in the water it will hide our body heat?”

“I think that’s our only option,” Chara whispered, “I really hope that thing has bad hearing…”

Crouching low, they creeped through the black water, movements slow and always with one hand tracing the path’s contours. Breathe, just breathe, you’re making progress, Chara kept telling themselves, gripping Asriel’s hand. They could hear nothing, and based on Asriel moving as slow and steady as they were, neither did he. At least they were making progress, they had to admit that they weren’t especially familiar with the terrain, but from their memory they were fairly certain they were going in the right direction. Yeah, here was the four way split, there was the short path with the lamp stand, they were very close.

“Doc,” Chara hissed, keeping themself obscured in a patch of cattails, “Doc, are you there? I’m sorry, I really am, I’m here to help you.” Nothing. Only the quiet drip of water. “Doc, please, answer me! You don’t even have to say anything, just yell, just make a sound, something, please!” Silence. Their stomach dropped. This was the place, it had to be, they knew it. Gaster was gone. Did he fall into the water? Did his own construct attack him? He couldn’t have left, not in the state he was in.

“Azzy, I’m sorry,” Chara rasped, “I…I need you to make some light.”

“What?! Are you crazy?!” he hissed back, socking their shoulder, “That thing will find us for sure!”

“I can’t find him. He’s gotta be here, I just need a little light, please…”

Asriel was silent for a moment. Suddenly a fireball shot upwards, the floor bathed in a few seconds of ruddy light. Chara surveyed the area quickly, not wasting a single instant; this WAS the place, definitely, but just as definitely was the fact that Gaster was not here. “That’s it, no more, it’ll catch us if I do that again,” Asriel whimpered, shaking harder than ever.

“This is bad, this is bad…” Chara stammered, falling to their hands and knees. Where the hell did he go? And how the hell were they going to get out? Maybe if they…

A raspy hiss shattered their chain of thought. Eyes large as saucers, they looked up into the fangs of the snake, the light of the charging energy casting a garish glow down on the two children. The light in the aberration’s eyes glinted with ruthless focus as it locked onto its targets. Asriel and Chara clutched each other, squeezing their eyes shut and holding tight to their sibling as they braced for the end.

“hOI-YAH!!!”

A shriek, a thump, a sound like shattering porcelain. Chara daren’t open their eyes, but their brother must have been just an ounce braver than them. “Hello?” Asriel said cautiously, “Um, th-thank you f-for saving us…” Chara pried their eyes open, area about them illuminated by Asriel’s fire held in his hand. They couldn’t help but stare at the monster who saved them. They were, well, were they more of a dog or a cat? If anything they were exactly in between, two pairs of ears, one pointed and one rounded, with a stubby, fluffy tail covered with white fur, as was the rest of their quadrupedal body, barely reaching two feet high at the shoulder. It was of particular note that it appeared they were vibrating.

“Uwa! HuMaN!!! Oh, oh, and pRINCE!!!! SUCH a cUtE!!!” the creature crowed, obviously immensely pleased with its find. “yayA, u hav Name? My nAmE iz tEmMiE!!!”

“H-hi, Temmie, I’m Asriel, and this is my friend Chara. We were looking for someone before we got attacked, and we’re really worried about him. Do you think you could help us find him?”

“oh NOES!! Ur friend iz MISSING?!? WhaT he LoOk lik?”

Chara piped up. “Well, he’s pretty tall, has big scars on his face, wore lots of dark clothes, walks with a cane, holds his arms like a t-rex—”

“Chara!” Asriel elbowed them hard.

“What? I’m trying to be specific! Anyways, his name is Dr. Gaster. Have you seen anyone like that around here? His leg was hurt pretty bad.”

Temmie began to vibrate even more intensely, a huge, silly grin splitting their face as they did a little jig “yAyA!!! GiGi, iz GiGi!!!! We haz hiM, we luvs hiM, we tAkinG cAre of GiGi at TeM VillAg!!!!!”

“Could you please take us to him?” Asriel implored, clasping his hands together like his mother did when she fretted, “We really need to see if he’s okay.”

“Uwawawawa YeSs!!! U foLLoW?!?!” Temmie didn’t even spare a backwards glance as they started prancing away. Pulling themselves to their feet, the two tried to keep pace with their manic guide, only barely successfully as they nearly had to sprint at certain intervals. As mossy earth and black marsh receded back to shale floor and crystalline luminance, Chara took in the ‘experience’ that was Temmie Village.

It wasn’t a terribly large cavern, but it had its own good handful of nooks and crannies that served as rooms, but that was hardly the interesting part. On the near wall was a mural, elaborate yet cartoonish paintings depicting Temmies fighting a dragon, farther away a large statue of a Tem carved like a monument. Numerous Temmies frolicked about, chattering and playing, each absorbed in their fun. “FolLoW, foLLoW!!!” Their guide chirped, traipsing over to a somewhat secluded nook.

Keeping close behind, Chara peered around the corner of the alcove. Oh. Well, there he was, Chara thought remorsefully as they watched the good doctor inside. The Tems must have had an extra pair of human sized clothes because Gaster’s former, destroyed outfit had been replaced with pastel purple pajamas, moons and stars patterned on the fabric, a makeshift peg leg visible beneath his cuff. He rocked back and forth as steady as a metronome, jar full of glitter held in his hands and the sole, undivided object of his focus. Surrounding him were various colorful odds and ends, but more unnervingly was an innumerable amount of 6’s drawn around him in red ink, covering the walls, the floor, the offending inkbrush lying just at his feet. “I think it might be best if I go first,” Asriel said, ear in his hand. Chara could only nod numbly.

“GiGi, u haz GUEST!!!” Gaster did not respond any farther than slowing his rocking for just a moment.

“D-doctor? Are you okay?” Asriel’s voice was soft, soft like his heart, but Gaster either was ignoring them or couldn’t hear. He fidgeted a bit as he waited for an answer, only getting acknowledgement when Temmie lept into the doctor’s lap. “Doctor, do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?”

Gaster was now looking at Asriel, yet not, his thousand-yard stare gazing somewhere in the far distance above the prince’s head. Setting the jar down, Gaster wrung his hands. It wasn’t signing, that was for sure, but it still seemed he was trying to convey meaning. He wasn’t completely gone.

“Gaster, do you know where you are?”

He stared, head lolling over, now rocking from side to side. Finally, he responded: Yes, he signed.

“Are you in pain?”

No

“Do you recognize me?”

More fretful hand wringing, Gaster looking around him like the answer was somewhere on the ground. Grabbing his ink brush, he stood up and turned his back to them, resuming his prior staining of the wall with endless 6’s. Over and over and over. “Gaster? Did I say something wrong?” Asriel probed.

Over and over and over. Endless 6’s. Why? Chara felt sick to their stomach as they watched their madman. I broke him. Oh my god, I broke him. “GiGi, u haz a GueSt!” Temmie whined, nipping and pulling at his pant cuff. It did not have the desired effect. Crouching down, he sat cross legged with his back to the wall, brush being chewed on with wit the inked side in his mouth. “Nooo, iz silly! U silly, GiGi!!!” Temmie reached up and tugged at the brush, but Gaster held firm. “GiGi, pwease?? I get brUsH, u get to petz da Tem, yaya?” Accepting the barter, Gaster scooped Temmie into his arms, humming like a harmonica as he began to pet rhythmically.

“Gaster, do you know my name,” Asriel sounded close to crying.

A-S-G-O-R-E he signed, eyes fixed downward. Did he really not realize it wasn’t the king standing before him?

Chara’s voice cracked as they spoke. “D-do you know your name?”

G-A-S-T-E-R. Well at least he knew that much. Chara tried to enter the room, only for their own pant leg to be pulled back. Another Temmie was standing behind them with their cuff in its mouth, its brows furrowed in adorable yet definite anger. “You two, come here. Yes, you too, Prince.” The seriousness in its tone felt so incongruous, so serious. Grabbing their brother’s hand as he returned to stand by them, they followed the Temmie away from the doctor.

“Listen,” Temmie said, its voice lacking the usual mirth the other Tems had, “I don’t know what happened. Truthfully, I don’t want to know, it’ll just make me more upset than I already am. But I know this. I know you hurt part of my family,” it said as its eyes bore into Chara. “You hurt someone close to us Tems, and your presence isn’t helping him in any way. It’s time for you to leave.” Just as quickly as it showed up, the judgmental Tem turned heel and left, leaving the two children where they stood.

Stunned, numb, drained, Chara fell to their knees. I broke him, they thought, the horrid sentence echoing through their head without refrain. Everything felt like lead, their exhaustion and dspair finally cresting over now that the entirety of their adrenaline was spent. Chest crushing in on itself, Chara hugged themself tightly as the tried to hold back tears. They failed. Through their quiet sobs, they felt Asriel's hand on their shoulder, reasurring, consoling. "I think it's time to go talk to Undyne," he said, resignation lacing his words. There was nothing more they could do. The two marched silently, defeatedly, back out into the marsh, the steady drip of water on stone teir only accompaniment to the village.

Chapter Text

“Tra la la. Come again some time.”

Gaster nodded politely as he could while avoiding eye contact at all costs. He was in Snowdin now, that’s all that mattered. The crisp air carried flurries all around him, clinging to his overcoat and swirling around his feet. The smell of pine, fresh and alive, caused him to reach for his worry beads, the wood rolled pensively between his fingertips. The crystalline snow crunched satisfyingly beneath his feet as he eased himself out of the ferry.

“You will come again, won’t you?” River asked, voice low.

“I’ll have to if I’m going to return to Hotland, aren’t I?” Gaster replied, equally as muted. He couldn’t decide whether or not these goodbyes were regretful or relieving. It didn’t really matter. Without another word he set off into the powdery village ahead of him.

Snowdin. A fitting name for this place, to be sure. Locked in an eternal winter, the locals merely took it as an opportunity to stay as festive as they possibly could, delicate tinsel and polished ornaments hidden every which way you looked, candles and fairy lights equally common as streetlamps. It took a certain sort of madness to live here, in a perpetual state of denial to the toll the dark and cold truly exacted, but at least their insanity presented itself as being relentlessly cheerful and generous. It was like walking into a fairytale. That, or a memory perfected by nostalgia.

It wasn’t an especially far walk to the town’s tavern, though the snow underfoot made it cumbersome to walk with his cane. Slipping through the front door, the orange glow that permeated the place immediately began to wick away the dampness from outside, raucous, howling laughter from the guards in the corner just as pervasive. Gaster situated himself at the far end of the bar, near a dog playing cards with itself, sufficiently out of the commotion of the regulars. A barrel-chested fire elemental, clearly the bartender, his hue a smoldering, smoky red, leaned over, polishing a glass as he spoke. “What’ll it be?”

“Something stiff, and several rounds of it,” Gaster replied, fingers steepled as his eyes and thoughts started to wander. Vacation. A concept truly foreign to him, but here he was nevertheless. Asgore was insistent that Gaster take some time to himself after he learned of the events in Waterfall. “It’ll do your soul good, Wingdings,” he had said. Gaster had protested, “I’ve been gone too long already, I’ve been on vacation with my family for the last week,” but Asgore was having none of it, replying, “You might want to brush off what happened, but I know how much it rattled you. I haven’t seen you that distraught since, well, since we first met.” Humph, damn him for being right, Gaster thought as he took a swig from the glass set in front of him. It tasted like paint thinner and seared going down: perfect.

His fingers tapped the counter nearly of their own volition. I have nothing to do, Gaster mulled, and it feels Wrong. Well, no, he did have business coming here, but that would have to wait until later. For now, he contented himself to surveying other patrons. A rather toothy gent was chatting up a rabbit that he was quite certain was overserved over there in the corner, and nearer to him were two informally dressed men discussing their lack of love life, the guards, ever louder and furrier than the last he looked at, were yipping in excitement over another completed game. All throughout though, was a pervasive sense of eyes staring back at him.

Near the window, chatting up a combusted-copper firette, was the bartender’s son. Or at least it was a fair wager that he was related to the barkeep on account of their similar features. Lankier than his father, though. Between the subdued pantomime that elementals used for language, a dialect Gaster was comfortably familiar with on account of his coworkers, were pointed stares from the both of them. Upon noticing that Gaster was aware of them, the lass turned her eyes away, but the boy was far less cordial. He had to be in late adolescence or thereabouts, his ginger hue shining around heavy-framed, rectangular glasses, the dress shirt beneath his bartending vest rolled up above his elbows. Staring. Their conversation continued, subtle flickers and sways between the two. They were talking about him. That in and of itself wouldn’t set Gaster off under normal circumstances, but on account of the events both before and behind him, he was already especially testy. Downing his second drink, Gaster pointedly stared back at his watcher, until the two were holding prolonged eye contact.

“It is rude,” he signed, “to talk about someone who’s listening.” The boy’s face flared in an impressive blush, crossing his arms defensively and turning away. His eyes occasionally wandered back, but it was clear he was at least attempting to mind his own business. Gaster finished off his third drink, vision starting to blur, and a growing sense it was time to go. Leaving his payment, he slipped from the barstool, almost literally if not for catching himself with his cane, and returned out into the snow.

Spirit comfortably numbed by spirits, he drifted along the main road, merely enjoying the walk. Such a lovely town, he mused, watching the denizens meander as untroubled as ever. Out to the edge of town, he had returned to a particular feature of the village he was rather charmed with; such a lovely house, he thought. He stopped in front of it, swaying gently. It was rather large compared to the rest of the houses in town, and its previous owner being long since moved out meant that it was creeping toward dilapidated territory, and yet Gaster couldn’t help but pine for the day he moved into it, surrounded by his books as he watched the snow fall outside the window, curled up beneath blankets with a cup of tea. Lots of room, perfect for pet projects, while all the while self-contained and quaint. Lots of room, maybe even for…well, there were dreams, then there were fantasies. Perhaps when I retire, Gaster told himself as he began walking to the center of town again. Ha! Retire, what an absurd notion. Much as he occasionally pulled away, he knew he was doomed to the same fate as his mentor, in a state of constant ‘retirement’ where he could never fully walk away from his passions. Ah well, he could hope.

As he crossed the halfway point through Snowdin, a sense of melancholy set in. It was time. There was no more procrastinating, this was why he came. Just as soon he was at the other side of town, the bridge out to the forest stark against the chasm below. As his footsteps clacked on the wooden boards, his eyes drifted down. He clutched the railing, trying not to let the vertigo overwhelm him. Not necessarily prevent it, the spinning sensation was actually rather pleasantly heady when added to his alcoholic haze, he just needed enough mindfulness to not tumble off. A rather tall order as he could barely stay on his feet even when not drunk and facing potential death by gravity. Hence the cane, and the occasional ribbing by Toriel over his comical level of dyspraxia, and now his current predicament. A small congratulation was granted to himself as he practically crawled back onto stable ground. Brushing the snow from his cloak, he set off once more towards the massive pine forest, the canopy of needles beginning to thicken.

“Wait!”

Hmm? Who was following him, and more importantly, why could he not hear their footsteps. Turning his back to the forest, Gaster squinted into the snowfall, noting that whoever it was they were carrying a torch. No, on closer inspection, THEY were the torch; it was the glasses-wearing elemental from the bar, practically running to catch up to him. Gaster waited patiently as the boy caught his breath, his fire causing the snow to melt as it landed on him.

“…You shouldn’t go that way,” he said, blunt in his statement, but still said without malice. “Please, come back to my father’s bar. You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m not entirely certain what you mean by ‘you don’t need to do this.’ In either case, what business is it of yours?”

The flame adjusted his glasses, looking peculiarly somber, “…Perhaps I’m out of line. That’d be the second time tonight. Sorry…There have been incidents, as of late, where…” He crossed his arms, drawn into himself, taking a shaky breath that sounded like a lit coal guttering out. “There have been monsters that have gone missing not too long ago. They disappeared after going into the forest. Most of the town wants to blame the two ghosts that live in the forest, but…Well, I’m a bartender, people tend to lay their woes on me. Those monsters…they went into the forest because they didn’t want to be found, didn’t want their families to know…”

“You don’t have to follow them.”

Oh. Gaster was taken aback at the concern offered him. The poor boy, having to bear the weight of that knowledge, no wonder he had followed him. “To disappear, that is not something I wish to happen to me, I assure you.”

“Why are you all the way out here then?”

“I am visiting someone.”

His answer earned him a skeptical look from his pursuer, “…Really? At this hour?”

Gaster held up his hands nonchalantly, “I speak the truth, strange as it sounds. Say, if it will ease your mind, I’ll stop back at your father’s tavern once I’m back in town. Prove to you I wasn’t left as dust in the snow, yes?”

“That’d…I’d appreciate that…By the way, sorry for staring earlier. I could’ve sworn I recognized you from somewhere. Something important, maybe? Either way, it was rude of me.”

Did he actually recognize me as the Royal Scientist? That’d be a first, Gaster thought as he suppressed a smirk. The title, while having much aplomb, didn’t exactly make him a celebrity, not helped by the fact that few people had even seen his face, much less identify him. “What is your name?”

“Grillby.” Accompanying his spoken words came his second language. While not a master of ‘Grillby’s native dialect, he recognized the phrase: his name would roughly translate to something like ‘Hospitality.’

“A pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Gaster,” he said with a polite bow.

Grillby visibly stiffened, just as if he had realized something. If he hadn’t recognized him as the Royal Scientist before, he most certainly did now. “And so, I bid you farewell Grillby. For now,” With that, he set off once again.

Crisp, clear, cold, a perfect night for a walk in the woods. The virgin snow gave way to Gaster’s footsteps, the canopy above causing the snowfall to abate, the darkness the only hindrance to his sight now. And yet, Gaster knew there was something off. Something missing. Something left incomplete. It was not his forest. It simply couldn’t compare. No birds, no squirrels, no creeping things, no flowers in wait to bloom, no hope of spring. As much as he loved the snow, HIS forest was such a pleasant sight in the spring. No, he swore to himself, that place is not MY forest, that place is no longer home. It was all left when I was bound to the earth. He pulled his cloak close; he did not feel cold in the sense that it could cause him to shiver, yet a chill ran down his spine. I should not be here. I am selfish for being here.

I am here for a reason, he told himself, marching ever forward.

I miss the moon, he thought as his eyes drifted upwards, melancholy seeping in like his SOUL was rusting, his chest aching with loss. I miss the wind, and the salty taste it brought from the sea, and the gulls sounding as they swooped over the masts of the tradeships, and the colors of the fabrics the traders bartered for. I miss the pine forests, and it's birds singing, and the rocky outcrops where the goats would fight. That place is not home, not anymore. You wouldn't have had to remember if you didn't let your curiosity get the better of you, he scolded, fingers reaching into his robes not for his worry beads, but another, more precious, more damning peculiarity. If you had just turned away and let that sleeping dragon lie, you could have left it all for a second chance. He could tell himself that over and over, but at his most honest he'd always admit that he'd choose the same path again. If anything, he was obligated to remember. Good, it's still there, he thought as he traced it's cool, stony texture. I hate the wicked thing, but I'd rather dust myself a thousand times over than misplace it. He mulled whether it really was a good idea to keep it on him instead of his lockbox in the depths of the CORE, but the memories were always more vivid when it was close.

A streak of white lunging forward from the dark caused Gaster to yelp, stumbling backwards to land in the snow. Laughter, languid and baritone, greeted the doctor as he smiled bittersweetly back up at the impish entity. "Good evening to you too, Sans."

"Heheheh, spooking you never gets old. It's been a while, geezer. What's kept you away so long?" Ghosts, the remnants of a human's SOUL after a violent death. Sans hovered effortlessly above the snow, his form a vague, smoky silhouette devoid of features except his cheeky smile. Well, that and his short, stout figure that even now was eternally nonchalant.

"Ah, life is busy as ever. I've finally found a reprieve from my work, so here I am." The untrained individual would never be able to tell the difference between a ghost and a monster, but Gaster, as a Judge, was not so blind. Sans's essence, the carapace of the SOUL, the interface to the physical world, coalesced it's splintered pieces together like a smashed vase, the telltale vitalic energy that marked humans out like a beacon in the night having long since bled away. Such a loss wold of course change a person, Gaster thought, heart sinking. He still is my brother though, isn't he? He must be, mustn't he?

Sans drew close to Gaster's face, smile turning sanguine. "Judging by your expression, that's not the whole truth, is it now? You've always dragged your feet coming here, so why show up now? Or, more interestingly, what was the event that forced you away from your work? Don't tell me you got fired?"

"Ever the insightful one, aren't you," Gaster rubbed his eyes. "Yes there was an incident and no, I'd rather not recount it. I yet remain the Royal Scientist, don't trouble yourself over it."

Sans shrugged, drifting away, "Knew it. Thought maybe you were gonna move in with us. Unless you managed to become corporeal, then if you'd lost your job you might have tried to dust yourself. This forest is practically covered more in dust than snow nowadays, you'd have fit right in."

"So I've heard..." Such an empty existance, to be a ghost, Gaster knew firsthand. Cut off from one's senses, everything was left not quite real, not quite there, left in the haze that separated the living from the dead. Gaster had soght a proper body as soon as he could, with less than satisfactory results at first, but Sans seemed resigned to wallow without purpose. A glint in the trees caught his eye. "Guardsman, step forward and join your brothers!"

Chestplate, gauntlets, helm, sword, Papyrus's piecemeal body marched forward out of the thicket. It was an eerie sight, seeing a disembodied armor set, the tall, limber outline of where a body should be only just visible. Shifty eyelights peered through the face guard. "Salutations, you two. I would love to stay, but I must keep patrolling."

"Nah, not really," Sans said, rolling his eyes. "It's the middle of the night, least I think it is, noone's out here except us. Besides, you can't save 'em. You can't fight despair with a sword."

Brandishing his battered, rusted blade, Papyrus gave an indignant snort "You fool! It is brigands that have been felling monsters, it must be! They're everywhere," he said, grabbing Gaster around the collar, "They're hiding in the shadows, sadistic fiends ready to strike at any moment! I must keep patrolling!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Paps," Sans chuckled. "What, you're not gonna stay here and reminisce about stuff we don't remember?" Gaster's heart sank further. However the metaphysical mechanics of the SOUL worked, the two had no memory of events prior to their deaths, conversation after conversation had proved that to his dismay. He reached into his robe, fingers tracing his peculiarity. I can make them remember, he thought, an acrid passion in his chest, I can MAKE them remember who they are, MAKE them realize who they once were. The feeling was so intense it almost hurt.

No, that is not my choice to make, he resigned himself, pulling his hand away. "You two, come close, please..." With what limited expression they had, they looked bemused, but drew close. "You...do you two...remember me?"

"Huh, funny you should ask that..." Sans murmured, smile abating into a more pensive look.

"You say that we are brothers," Papyrus began, pacing back and forth, "I have no memory of parents, or childhood, or any mechanism whatsoever how we could actually be brothers. Yet somehow..." He ceased his pacing to face Gaster, a determined look in his eye. "...I believe you. You are my brother."

"It's sorta like...even though we don't have any evidence we're all brothers, it still, I dunno, "feels" right, ya know?" Sans chimed in. "Hey, sorry if I came off kinda harsh before, we like it when you show up and ramble about things. Makes it less lonely out here."

"So you won't mind if I start rambling now?"

Sans gave the biggest, most natural smile yet, "Ramble away."

"Come, brother!" Papyrus clapped his hand onto Gaster's shoulder, pulling him along into the woods, "We shall march and and converse through the night. I eagerly await hearing your tribulations since you were away!"

-----

It was impossible to tell how many hours had passed since he first entered the forest, but by the time Gaster returned to Snowdin the residents were already up and about from their slumber. He was exhausted, feet dragging through the streets as he made his way down the main road. Head drooping, he stopped at the crossroads on his way to the river, contemplating. Oh, what the hell, he mumbled to himself, taking a detour. He did have one last promise to keep. Trudging further down the main way, he reached Grillby's bar. There he was, mopping the floor, kindling not quite bright enough to look fully awake. Rapping on the window pane, Gaster grinned as the barkeep jolted like he'd seen reality unwind just ouside his store; from the last time they talked, it was fair to summit that Grillby's had expected just one more dead man. Dunking the mop back into the bucket, Grillby's smiled like the sun as he bid the doctor farewell. They'd meet again, the both of them were sure.

There they were, steadfast as ever. Offering their hand, the Riverperson helped Gaster into their boat, the two holding each others' gaze. It cannot be denied, he thought as he sat crosslegged, I have avoided you too long as well.

"So I take it your visit went well?" they said, tamberous voice harmonizing with the splashing waves.

Gaster made to speak, but only a garbled handful of sounds came forth, completely tongue tied. Damn it you fool, talk! He clasped his hands over his mouth, face red as an apple if he had skin. Cursing his gaff, he resigned himself to mere nod of affirmation.

Glancing back at him, their eyes smiled from beneath their hood as they gave a little giggle. "Your head really is off in its own special world, Wingdings. Tell me, is the weather nice there?"

Gaster steeples his fingers, eyes closed. "It is unfortunate that I must report that is raining today..."

"Ah, forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you..."

"No, no, it was not your fault," Gaster chuckled. "It's been a very long journey, a melancholy one. But one I had put off for far too long. After all, the flowers bloom brightest after a rainstorm, yes?" He peered upwards, seeing them glancing back again, eyes smiling warmly. "Say, perhaps today we could take a longer route back to Hotland?"

"Your wish is my command. Tra la la."

Chapter Text

In hindsight, this was probably not the best idea.

Well where else was Chara going to find Gaster? The monster had all but vanished from the palace, like he’d never been there in the first place. After Asgore hauled both them and Asriel in front of his Royal Scientist to apologize, Chara had been grounded for a whole month and commanded to write an apology letter, which they did obligingly. It was only right, they knew that, and yet they also knew that their penance still left them feeling guilty. Something was still missing, something still wasn’t set right.

Which had led them to this very moment, crawling through a maintenance shaft of the CORE, grease coating their hoodie and metal framing catching on their backpack as they wormed forward. It had taken quite a bit of probing to find out where Gaster might be; asking their parents was right out, obviously, and few people knew him well enough to even notice he was gone. Too much querying of CORE workers would surely irritate them, even if they were the most likely to know. That last option was the most surefire, certainly, but if any of them breathed a word about it to their monarchs, Chara would be in even more heat. It had just so happened that Chara had found a work schedule lying forgotten in the Royal Apartments cafeteria, outlining not only employee assignments but the CORE layouts for that week. Snapping a picture of their windfall with their smartphone and cross referencing the CORE database through their parents’ less-than-comprehensively-secured network gave them just the right info to map out a course. They were going to find Gaster themself.

They were starting to regret their decision. Not that they were lost or anything, that’d just be silly, obviously, of course, duh…maybe just a little. Rather, the journey itself was becoming rather gut-turning. The whole place reeked of ozone and charring and stale oil, emanating from coils both above and below them, similarly emanating a sweltering heat that drenched Chara in sweat. A careless move here and there had left them swearing in pain as the surrounding metal catwalks and piping scalded their hands, and they especially didn’t want to think about how badly a jet of steam that had launched out of the metalworks just a few moments ago would have seared their face if it had gotten them. The dull, barely perceptible glow of the coils, mixed with the occasional plasma arc and blue and red LED indicators welded onto strange and looming machinery was starting to give them a headache from all the eyestrain as they constantly squinted for the next potential hazard at every turn. Chara breathed a sigh of relief when their map led them into a storage alcove, on the back wall a door leading into hopefully a more hospitable area.

Checking their map, they smiled. This door led to some sort of lab, one walled off from the harsh mechanisms. Best case scenario, it might even be air conditioned. Cracking the door open, they peered inside. A rush of frigid air and a dearth of boxes stacked in the perfect arrangement for sneaking greeted them. Perfect. On a second take, though, Chara cocked their head, listening intently. There was the hum and clank of machinery, but they could’ve sworn they heard just the faintest sound of a woman humming. They pulled a wrinkled sheaf of paper out of their backpack, scanning the assignments. Let’s see, this is a robotics lab, but it says here that it should be deactivated for today. Maybe they updated the schedule? Irrespective of the draft from the lab, Chara felt their skin get clammy; they couldn’t really chance a detour, they’d be lost forever down here, but through that door was the risk of getting caught. If they had to decide, Chara figured that another howling at by their parents was better than their corpse being found weeks later, if only by a nose. They creeped through the door.

Closing it behind them as carefully as they could so it wouldn’t squeak, they snuck forward to the edge of the box pile. And breathed another sigh of relief. Far on the left wall was Dr. Alphys, humming some anime theme and shimmying a little dance as they worked on a robot. At least if they were caught by her, they’d only be kicked out, and with a string of apologies for the trouble. The robot, on the other hand, gave them pause. It was some sort of mobile unit, heavy treads planted firmly on the ground by the hulking steel frame they supported. A wide array of tools and arms, some of them more likely for security than maintenance purposes, lined and jutted out from the blocky midsection, a small head with a camera and scanning apparatus crowning the whole beast. Alphys was elbow deep in its chest, broken Japanese lyrics mixing with the snap of a sauntering gun and whir of a drill.

The robot was diligently surveying the room, head rotating back and forth in its sentinel way, digital eye unwavering. Chara watched it closely. It was no use; if they wanted to cross the room they’d have to dart out into the open to reach a lab table for sufficient cover again, and the robot would definitely see them if they did. Maybe if they timed it right they could only be seen in its periphery, and while that might not be a good dodge, per se, but it had to be better than strolling out in full view. Chara crouched, watching the machine scan, feeling for the rhythm of its turning. Back and forth, back and forth… Now!

Leaping forward, they made a clean dodge into the cover of a workbench, but not without the mechanical whirr of the robot noticing them. Crawling forward, they inched to the edge of the bench, peering out to see how fast they’d have to move.

“Ie! Yamete!” Alphys chided, smacking the robot on the chest with her sauntering gun, “There’s no one in here but me, dum-dum. You sit right back down!” Looking as much like a dejected puppy as a hulking metal contraption could, the robot slunk back to where it originally sat. Chara rolled their eyes. Weeb, she thought as she smirked at Alphys’ back, the scientist having returned to her work. Flinging themself forward to the far wall, they grinned as Alphys heckled the robot for being so jumpy. As much of a dork as she was, she was always worth a laugh.

Chara pulled their map out again. Ah, so that’s the next step, they thought, scratching their head. I’ve gotta go through the vents. Huffing, they pried off the grating of the nearest duct, trying desperately to suppress a sneeze. They failed.

“U-um, hello? I-I-Is s-someone th-there?” Gotta move fast, gotta move fast, Chara thought as they wormed their way far into the ventilation shaft, their shifting far too loud in their ears. Progressing deep into the darkness, they strained to hear any indication they were being followed; nothing. Chara breathed a sigh of relief, cut short at the realization that in the total blackness they wouldn’t be able to read their map. Fantastic, they grumbled as they cosigned themself to heading forward. C’mon, think, which turns did you have to take? Chara wracked their brains, bits and pieces coming forward, just enough to have a vague idea of which way to turn. They hoped.

Compared to the gross heat of the maintenance floor, the ducts were uncomfortably chilly. A constant draft filtered all around them, causing them to shiver, the metal casing clanking and creaking around them, icy against their skin. Oh! There! A dull aura, a sure sign of light filtering in from somewhere, shone just to their left. It wasn’t enough light to read from, but if they could just sneak out for a bit to—

They shrieked as they felt their hand land on air, the loss of foundation causing them to tumble forward into an inky abyss, flailing for any sort of handhold, they clung for dear life as they hooked their fingers into a miraculously found alcove, feet dangling over the nothingness. Breathe, just breathe, Chara clamped their eyes shut as they hiccupped in fear, their arms already shaking from the strain of supporting them and fear. Let’s see, maybe if I can get my feet to the other wall…Probing out, they planted both their shoes against the thin sheeting, hoping to any god out there. If they weren’t completely crazy, then maybe they could walk themself down the shaft, hands on one side, feet on the other, they’d use their muscles to hold themself horizontal, if they didn’t just plummet all the way down. Alright, ready, one, two…The released their left hand, right still clinging for dear life to the ledge, pressing as hard as they could against the wall. Okay, okay, I think I’m stable, now let’s just try the other one. The moment of faith upon them, they released their grasp. They yelped, slamming their palm against the wall, but held firm. Only way to go now was down.

It took what felt like an eternity, but finally they lay flat on their stomach, shaking from relief. They coughed, wiping their teary eyes roughly as they squinted in the gloom. At least they were closer to the opening, they thought as they inched forward once again, their clammy hands sticking to the plating as they crawled. Reaching the grate, they wrenched it open, dropping down onto a shelf. Climbing down, they eyed up the myriad of books filed on the shelves; it appeared they had stumbled into some sort of library. Chara looked to their guide. The only thing the layout said was Administration Level, and some symbols that they weren’t in the mood to decipher. Since I’m here, I might as well look around, Chara thought, scanning the surrounding materials. These looked like design documents, those were probably engineering references, over there was…something else. Squinting at the cracked and peeling spines of the peculiar books, they appeared to be about mathematics, possibly. One thing was for sure, they were very old, and definitely not in English. A few were probably Latin, that one was German, maaaybe that one was in French? Whatever they were about, there were a lot of books of this sort, several shelves worth now that they noticed. Well, it probably wouldn’t do any good to just sit and wonder, they had a mission, didn’t they? Wandering towards the door at the far end of the room, another bookshelf caught their eye. Namely, they couldn’t shake the feeling that something about that particular set of shelves was profoundly uncanny. They rubbed their eyes, not quite sure if what they were seeing was real; it wasn’t like there was anything especially out of the ordinary, not that they could tell, but it was doubtlessly Off. Tentatively, they reached up to pull a book down.

It didn’t look nearly as old as the prior books, but it had definitely seen a few decades. They examined the spine, hoping for any clue as to what the topic of the book could be, only finding angular, intricate symbols. They squinted; there was always the possibility that the title was just written in calligraphy, but as they held their focus they felt their vision start to swim. Dizzy, why am I so dizzy? Chara sat down, holding their hands over their ears as they shut their eyes. Everything felt too vivid, to demanding of their attention, like they could see every individual atom around them. They knew nothing of the book’s contents and yet knew far, far too much, strange verses whispering in their mind, emotions not meant to be felt just short of emanating. They held their breath as they tried not to vomit.

Yeah, no more of that, Chara thought as they jammed the book back on the shelf. They would have to be a bit more careful where they put their hands. Speaking of careful…They slung their backpack off their shoulders and unzipped the largest pocket. Hmm, a little bit squashed, maybe a bit worse for wear from the heat and cold, but their sensitive package was still fairly intact: good. Moving on, they found themselves in some sort of laboratory, most of the contents pulled to the border of the high ceilinged room, contraptions that gave them an equally unnerving feeling as the books. Curiosity won’t kill this cat, they thought as they hustled out of the room, out into a branching set of hallways.

The lighting here is weird, Chara noted, scrutinizing the bulbs above them. The floors above were lit completely by fluorescent or LED lights, they could tell by the almost subliminal flicker they gave off, but these bulbs were either incandescent or something similar to it, the warmer glow making the surrounding hallways feeling incongruous to the rest of the CORE, almost like they wandered into a completely different building. It makes everything too dark, but at least it’s easier on the eyes.

Down that hallway was a kitchen, layered with dust and devoid of any kind of food, that hallway lead to possibly a communal office, down that hallway was at best guess a lounge, down another was some kind of dormitory, all the beds pushed to the far wall except one, piled with an absurd amount of blankets and surrounded by a sea of miscellanea. Had this place been abandoned? Their heart sank. Of course they weren’t going to find Gaster here, as if they had any chance of finding him when he preferred to disappear. Worse yet, it was going to be a nightmare to find their way out. Their best bet was to try to make it back to Alphys and have her escort them back up, if she was even still in the lab, but even but regardless if they were accompanied or not, it would be an abysmally long journey. Do I chance trying to find a freight elevator? I don’t remember any coming this far down, but I really don’t want to climb UP the vents. They sat down cross-legged, head resting on their knuckles, an inkling of hopelessness starting to worm its way in.

Hang on a second, were those footsteps? Chara tilted their head, only the faintest patter heard. If they weren’t footsteps, they sure mimicked them awfully closely. The stood up, stepping lightly to the farthest door, peering through the crack. Well goddamn, there he was, pacing back and forth as he muttered under his breath, reading from the thickest book Chara had ever seen. The room Gaster was in was some kind of office, far smaller than the one before, a thicket of papers, binders, books, and filers surrounding the walls. Everything looked worn, as if hands had graced the entire room a thousand times over, and considering this was Gaster’s office, a thousand might be a low estimate. They strained to hear what he was muttering, their nauseous feeling returning as they caught fragments, something just beyond their comprehension intoning finality, clarity, transparence. Bang! Peering through the door again, they saw Gaster slam his book down onto his desk, pacing resumed with fervor. Hands appeared around him, signing rapidly, elaborately, asynchronously, and in some cases quite rudely. What’s got him so upset? Chara pondered. Is he still upset from Waterfall? I really did hurt him, maybe he’s just like this now. Or maybe something in the book upset him? They pulled at their shirt hem, waffling on whether they should confront him at this time. You did come here for a reason, they reminded themself, you can’t’ve come all this way just to give up, can you? He is really upset though, I could just hide down here for a bit and wait for him to calm down?

Bang! That sounded much heavier than before, Chara thought, spying again. I hope he didn’t hurt himself. Their mouth went dry. Hovering in his spectral form, Gaster floated above the wine carpeting, his body having been thrown against the wall. He was holding his head in his hands, counting as if to sooth himself. I really should come back later, Chara inched away, turning their back to the door. Hiding in the library was probably the best option, they thought as they started to head back, at least I won’t be bored. Bang!

Spinning around, their hands reflexively moved to a fighting position, blood running cold. Gaster had flung the door open, and was staring straight at them with a razor thin smile, his eyes wild. “There you are…I was worried how I was going to get you alone…hahaha…” His laugh was weak and reedy, so unlike the earthy chuckle he usually had, his conjured hands reaching out for them. Chara was caught by three hands, two at their wrists, one at their neck. “Stay my hand, he said…just a child, he said…the little humans are always innocent…” Another reedy cackle, this one even harsher than before. “The king remains so naïve of you creatures, mercy upon him…” The hands began dragging Chara away, the child’s thrashing and pleading in vain as they were hauled back into the laboratory. Craning their head back in their struggle, they froze as their eyes landed on what was behind them: two floating snake skulls, exact replicas of the one they and Asriel had hid from not so long ago, their scintillating eyes trained intently on Chara. They tried to scream, only to feel the hand at their neck constrict, only able to just barely rasp and wheeze for air. The hands at their wrists pulled them down to their hands and knees. They were too scared to do anything but comply. Footsteps, coming closer. Chara’s face burned with the effort it took to hold back tears, looking up to their captor. Gaster had once again reclaimed his body, huge book in hand and expression unreadable. His posture spoke of a man ordained with some irrevocable duty, an intent to fulfill such duty as intense as a star in the blackest night.

“What are you going to do to me?” Chara choked out, the entirety of their body shaking.

“Something I should have done the moment you fell into the Underground, human. Ensure your tongue speaks naught but truth, and bare your soul in sincerity lest I divulge your animus directly; you will be judged thoroughly.”

Chapter Text

Even as the hand slipped off their neck, Chara struggled to breathe. What the hell did even half of what Gaster just intoned about mean? The hands on their wrists released as well; the thought of running flitted through their mind, but their serpent-skull guards’ presence and the steely eyes of the judge transfixed upon them spoke novels about how unwise that action would be. It’s not like you didn’t earn this, they thought, trying to control their shaking, this is what you get for being such a garbage person all the time.

“State your name.”

Chara snapped out of their self-loathing, looking up, “You know my name though?”

“State your name,” Gaster’s voice commanded, devoid of emotion. The difference between now and his usual cadence was palpable, his tranquil intrigue stripped down to a robotic, calculating core. The monster before them was ordained with a void of compassion.

“C-Chara,” they stuttered out, eyes averted.

“Your full name.”

“Why d’you— “Another stern glare. “Chara De Luca,” they mumbled.

“Your age.”

“Eleven.” As Gaster thumbed through the huge tome in his hands, a second pair had been conjured to hold a lighter, less aged book, which was being scrawled in furiously as Chara spoke. A transcription? Or was Gaster recording their reactions, trying to suss out something deeper. With the piercing gaze he was observing them with, Chara betted the latter.

The questioning continued, with queries mundane that required simple answers: Where were you born? What were your parents’ names? Were you in school? Among these questions were others that left Chara scratching their head as to their purpose: Count from one to ten, then ten to one. What is something that tastes bitter? What are sounds you can hear right now? Chara couldn’t help but notice that their answers to those questions were the most heavily recorded.

“That should do for the preliminaries,” he muttered, the surrounding chamber suddenly feeling very distant, the faint clang and hum of the CORE’s machinations fell silent, and it was if the only light in all the Underground was a spotlight trained on the two below, all else gone dim. “Now we truly begin. Answer in good faith, I will know if you are lying.”

Mouth dry, Chara nodded. It was hard to explain, that tugging in their chest, like their heart had been pulled out of their ribcage and set on display. They felt very, very small.

“Now,” Gaster spoke, whisper magnified to a thunderous echo, “Why did you climb the mountain?”

No, no, please not that. Chara stared at the floor, their altered state bringing up memories like water on the verge of boiling, the sounds, the panic, all of it threatening to resurface. They clamped their eyes shut, hands pressed against their ears as they shook their head violently. “It wasn't my fault!”

A flutter of pages, the spark of magic evoked, a searing pain. Clinging to themself, arms wrapped in desperate defense, did nothing to shield them from the white hot force that pierced their mind. Like sunlight focused through a magnifying glass, a needle-like laser formed all else into a perfect silence in the narrowing beams wake. A message, perfect simple, clear:

You have Acted.

Your reactions to the prior events were yours.

Your hands have wrought those results.

You made your choice.

Chara took a deep breath. I have acted. I have made my choice.

“It would be wise to start again,” Gaster spoke, voice tranquil, ordained with a void of malice, “Why did you climb the mountain?”

“To escape what I did.”

“Please explain.”

The dark around them was as vast as space itself; the only souls that would hear their confession were themself, Gaster, and whatever higher power was out there. The isolation was soothing, almost comforting, like being locked in a padded cell. Outside there was hell in every crevice, but here, here was oppressively safe. It was time. Their sins couldn’t stay inside forever. “I’ll try to remember as best I can. A lot of it I’ve tried to forget about. Its, there’s, there’s a lot of bad memories...around...it…”

“So, I’ve lived here, like, a year and a half now, right? Yeah, it was a year and a half ago. And, and it was a little after school, before,” Chara breathed deeply, body tensing up already, “before my stepdad came home. Okay, listen, I just, my parents, we never really saw eye-to-eye, y’know. My biological dad was never really in my life, he abandoned my mom, and she, she...didn’t really want me. She was gone a lot, too. And, the thing of it is, she was always bringing guys home, always. They were scumbags, all of them. But then my mom got married. I dunno what she saw in the guy, ‘cuz he was the worst. He...well, boundaries were a foreign freaking concept to him, couldn’t keep his hands off anybody.” They wrapped their arms around themselves, “Including me…”

Already Chara could feel the bile rising in their throat, pressure forming behind their eyes as they resisted tearing up. “You don’t even wanna know what he did to me, man. I was sick and tired of hiding the bruises, I couldn’t take it any more! He’d fucking grab me around the neck, and hold me down and he’d…” Their voice cracked as they roughly rubbed away their misty eyes, breathing ragged. Crying won’t help now, they snapped at themselves, tell him what happened, you stupid crybaby. After what you did, do you think he’ll have any sympathy for you? Hell no, you’re just irritating him right now by not giving him what he wants. “...It was a year and a half ago,” they began again.

“I was home from school, and usually I had an hour before my stepdad came home from work. It was 3:30-ish and I was in the living room. I don’t really remember what I was doing, I think I was just relaxing, and then I hear the front door open. And I get scared because it's only me and him in the house, and if he gets ahold of me no one’ll be able to stop what happens next. I’m making a mad dash towards the stairs, ‘cause my bedroom’s up there, and then as I’m just at the top I feel myself being pulled back by my hair. I don’t even know what it was I did this time, but he’s yelling at me about how much of a useless little shit I am and how he’d sell me for a pack of cigarettes if he had the chance, and I’m just a selfish little brat who doesn’t deserve the work he does for me and all that jazz. And he starts dragging me down the stairs, and all I’m thinking is I gotta get to my room, to safety; I got a lock on my door and he can’t get me in there. I start flailing and screaming and I manage to get outta his grip, and I run all the way up the stairs, but he’s got longer legs so just as I’m at the top he’s right behind me, just a few steps down, grabbing for my hair again. I was just thinking about how I was gonna get away, that’s the only thing I had on my mind as I turned around, and I reeled back as far as I could, I punched him full force, right in the nose. Blood just starts gushing down his face and I’m pretty sure I broke it, but he grabs at his face to stop the blood, and…” Chara gasped as brief reprieve from their increasingly frantic rambling, every muscle tensed, primed to flee, the memories coming more and more vivid with each second. They could practically hear the whoosh of air as the outside door was wrenched open, the thud of his heavy footsteps contrasted with their own skittering away. The stained, cream colored paint and scratchy, slate carpeting in the stairwell, splattered with iron scented droplets of their stepfather’s blood, and then “...and then he lost his balance. He fell backwards, down the stairs. He didn't get back up.”

Their face split into a garish smile, eyes wild and desperate. “You'll never guess what I did next. It's so messed up.” An agonized giggle escaped their throat, cold tears streaming down their face. “I went to my room. I locked my door. And I sat down in front of my TV and played my Xbox. I ignored him. I couldn't believe he could die that easy, he was just knocked out, right? He'd wake up in an hour and try to strangle me like usual, and he'd probably succeed, and it'd all be over. I'd be dead, and I wouldn't have to deal with any of this anymore. But… about an hour passed, and I couldn't lie to myself anymore, I went down to the bottom of the stairs. He was dead. He was dead and I killed him.”

Chara gasped for breath, tirade sapping their energy, an icy weight settling into their veins. They were alone, only Judge and God to save them. “So I ran away. I couldn't stick around until my mom came home, if she even bothered to that night, the body would start smelling by then, and I knew whatever she did to me, what the cops would do to me, wouldn't have been enough. That's why I climbed the mountain. ‘Travelers who climb the mountain never return.’ I didn't know what that entailed, exactly, but I betted it meant being ripped apart by bears or eaten by wolves or something. No one would miss me, not anyone at school, at home, nothing would be lost. They'd probably all cheer after all the shit I did, the bullying, the getting even, all the pranks that went way too far. I'm spiteful and hateful and awful and, and…”
“And I'm sorry!” they sobbed. “I'm sorry for being such a bully at school and giving my mom such a hard time at home and never listening to my teachers! I'm sorry I never just let things go when I'm mad and that I didn't even call an ambulance or anything for my step dad and that I ran away like a coward! I hurt Azzy and Toriel and even got Asgore really, really sick with that pie prank, and it was never supposed to go that far, and I knew I shouldn't have thrown those rocks at you and it was wrong and you were just looking out for me and I'm sorry!”
Chara was on their hands and knees, tears falling into a puddle beneath them as they choked on their spit between agonized wails, chest heaving and shivers wracking their frame. It was all they could do. Eventually their despair subsided into hiccoughy whimpers, causing them to curl in on themselves, knees to chest and arms clinging through their tear streaked sleeves. They glanced up, ready for whatever would happen next. Curiously, Gaster was in a strange state; his face was downcast, pain and grief written plainly in his face, his hands which held the massive tome shook violently, similarly matching the tremors in the rest of his body. “This is...interesting…” he whispered, only just audible.

It was a long time where only silence lingered between them. The flutter of pages flipping rapidly, only pausing intermittently before resuming their quicksilver shifting, was accompanied by the frantic scrawling of the pen into the smaller book; the scratch and flip of paper all that could be perceived. Finally, voice hoarse and measured, Gaster spoke. “Such a formidable tally of sins you’ve accrued, child. A soul as aggressive as yours would be without hesitance banished from our enclaves.”

“And yet…” he mused aloud, “not even half of the hate within you surfaces... It is without doubt that your Level of Violence is high, but I sense it is not truly an inborn aspect, is it now?” Gaster gave a deep sigh, eyes focused very far away. “Time and time again, it was documented that humans brought unto cruel hands learn to be cruel, not for the sake of cruelness itself, but for protection. Your world was cold, and you hardened your heart to stave off the bitterness of it all. Except you haven’t. You learned to hate yourself, turned your thorns against your own heart so the stabbing of others’ barbs was simply more of the same.”

“Your acts have been set into the stone of history. They may not be undone. But, you are not nearly so static. Irredeemable? I cast that verdict out of hand as one discards filth. Look inside yourself. Ask that you seek mercy within before you act. Look for the light of that which is just when you are overcome with darkness. Your fate rests upon your hands now.” The tome snapped shut with a thud that reverberated around them, a gust of wind from the unknown sweeping everything back. Gaster fell to his knees like a robot with its battery removed, eyes closed and hands around him dissipated, completely inert.

It was over. They'd passed. Well, passed as in ‘not completely irredeemable.’ I guess that's still something, Chara thought, wiping their nose with their shirt. Not Irredeemable. The proclamation was bizarrely comforting; it was a safe, manageable expectation. They could work with that. The world around them had returned, the CORE humming and rumbling away, the dim, spacious room with the strange machines all pushed to the edges just the same as before. In the ensuing normalcy, it was difficult to believe anything had really happened at all. No, that’s not quite it, Chara thought, sitting back on their knees. It was hard to believe that their trial was even a part of reality, that it was even capable of happening, much less actually having transpired. They knew better.

Now what? Gaster was still shut down, and Chara hadn’t the faintest idea how to get back up to the top levels again. The tired ache in every muscle made it quite clear that climbing through the vents again was out of the question. Besides, falling down a vent was far easier than hoisting themself up against gravity and gusts that battered them before. But was it really safe to stay here either? It didn’t look like Gaster would be moving anytime soon, and while they couldn’t be exactly sure, they’d bet that at least he wouldn’t be as hostile as before. Didn’t really look like he had the energy to be hostile anyways. Whatever magic he had used apparently hadn’t left much left for him to survive off of. What even was it that he had done? Some sort of advanced super-magical weirdness, Chara coughed out a wry laugh. Yeah, just another Tuesday for that guy, probably. Maybe if I just take a peek in that big book of his…

“Do not.”

Chara froze as their hand was caught just as they’d tried to crack the cover open, white phalanges wrapped around their own fingers. They looked up. Aside from moving his arm to catch them, Gaster had not moved, eyes still closed and shoulders slumped. Scrambling back, Chara held up their hands defensively, voice cracking, “Okay, okay, no touchy, I got it.”

Chara was met with a deep sigh. “Why are you here?” Gaster rumbled, eyes remaining closed.

“I thought we, uh, just went through that…?”

Finally looking up at them with tired eyes, Gaster sighed again. “What I meant to say was, why are you at this location here, at the base of the CORE?”

Chara hesitated, fidgeting with their sleeves, looking around them on the floor. There, their backpack; it had fallen behind them to their left, crumpled on its side. Pulling it close, they pulled the zipper open and, despite being dismayed that it was somewhat squashed, they presented the small bouquet. Buttercups, tulips of various colors, and a few broad, pink roses all were tied together clumsily by a yellow ribbon. “I came here to apologize.”

“You already apologized to me.”

“No, that was Asgore making me apologize. I wanted to apologize for real. You had just disappeared, and I thought I had really really hurt you, and I was scared for you after seeing you so out of it at Temmie Village, and--” Chara held out the bouquet at arms length, head bowed, “I'm sorry.”

They felt Gaster’s hands lift the bouquet from their own, fingers hesitantly wrapping around the stems, bringing it near to himself. He looked down at it, contemplation heavy on his features. Setting it at his knees, his hands covered his face, mumbling incoherently. “You blessed child…” he said, hands falling to his lap as his shoulders slumped. “I have subjected you to a hellish ordeal, and you came only in peace…”

“It's okay, I kinda earned it, honestly. I wasn't really on my best behavior either; I snuck down by taking one of the maintenance guys’ maps and have sorta kinda been nosey around here. Like, what even is this place? I found, like, a little library, and there was a bed in this big room, and like a sort of lobby I think, and why is there a kitchen at the bottom of the--” A realization struck Chara. “Did - did I just, um...break into your house?” Silence ensued, the two of them staring at each other. Gaster doubled over in suppressed laughter, earthy rumble broken by the occasional snort as he shook, the familiarity of his guffaws causing Chara to give a sheepish chuckle, their exhaustion causing them to feel loopy. “Oops. I'll, uh, show myself out…”

Gaster rested a hand on their shoulder, stopping them from standing up. “You've been through hell today, and at my hand. The least I can do is offer you a place to rest from this whole ordeal.” Pushing himself to his feet with his cane, bouquet in hand, he brushed clean his robes. “Besides, I intend to personally escort you to the civilian level of the CORE, and I can't well do that until I find a vase for these, now can I?”

He stretched down a hand to Chara below. Taking it, they realized as they had to grip tightly to it just how spent they actually were. Muscles aching, eyes itching, limbs heavy as lead, they worked to stifle a yawn. “Thanks, G. I'm glad you're okay. You wanna call it even?”

“I do think so.”

Chapter Text

“You know, I won’t be offended if you don’t like it.”

Chara masticated on the chewy, black disk in their mouth, that abomination known as licorice, which dared to pass itself off as a confection. The heresy. Simultaneously bitter and sickeningly sweet, a pungent flavor assaulted their tongue as they suppressed their gag reflex to swallow. “It was delicious,” Chara whimpered, wiping at their watering eyes, “Matter of fact, I think I’ll have another.”

Gaster snatched away the porcelain dish with the vile candy, affecting faux schadenfreude. “I’ll not have you wasting my licorice on your pitiable, unrefined tastes.” He set it back into the shelf it came from; beneath it on the counter sat the bouquet in it’s new makeshift vase of a large erlenmeyer flask, the glass still a bit cloudy from hastily scrubbed away dust. “Unfortunately, that was the sole edible thing down here. My apologies that I couldn’t be a better host.”

“Nah, you’ve been really decent to me. Especially after, well…” Chara rubbed again at their eyes, this time to brush away sleep. Gaster had been nothing but accommodating after the ordeal he’d put them through, even going so far to let them rest in his parlour, which had devolved into a nap of indeterminate length and questionable refreshment. It was awkward to ask for food from Gaster, seeing as it wasn’t so much themself as their stomach loudly demanding food, but again he obliged aid without complaint. His hospitality, it seemed, was his apology. “‘Sides, I won’t judge you for your awful, awful taste in candy. I, as the clearly superior chocolate-lover here, am used to dealing with you other-candy-liking plebeians.”

Gaster scoffed. “Only dark chocolate is even passable, all other kinds are irredeemably gross. Well, I suppose if it’s a meal you’re looking for, we’ll have to start heading back up, won’t we?” He held out his hand.

Chara hopped off their stool and joined him, tagging at his heels. “Sorry for breaking into your house, again. Hey, can you explain something to me? It looks like you’ve got an awful lot of stuff for just one guy, like multiple beds and stuff like that. Does anyone live down here with you?”

“Perceptive as ever, I see,” Gaster chuckled, typing a code into the keypad near a large monitor. Flickering, the screen lit up, the CORE’s layout displayed in an elaborate jigsaw of different pieces highlighted and marked in meticulous identification. Sighing, Gaster began to walk again. “It seems we’ll be taking a bit of a stroll. I’d rearrange to give us a more direct path, but there’s critical maintenance going down up top that I don’t want to jeopardize. As for your question, I live alone now, but I hadn’t always. Back when the CORE was still in the early stages of construction, it was necessary to perform experimentation on the geothermal and chemical capabilities of the magma it was to be situated in. This little habitat was built to allow researchers a place to stay close to their work; about ten people could live comfortably while they studied their findings here. Now only I remain.”

“Daaamn, this place is old! Is it still safe here?”

Gaster ushered them into what appeared to be a freight elevator, the spacious carriage creaking as they ascended, lurching to a halt sooner than Chara expected. “I built this place with the intention of lasting a thousand years. It is exceptionally safe. There are hundreds upon hundreds of redundancies for every configuration failure imaginable. Think me paranoid if you will, I design for the worst.”

“I guess you gotta be careful when you’re making a magical generator to power a whole civilization.” Chara was met with a amicable chuckle from their partner. It had piqued their interest that Gaster was unusually expressive, openly grinning and puffing his chest out. Now that they thought about it, he’d been more animated since they’d woken up too. The change mollified Chara; it was good to see the doctor out of his altered state, that cold and mechanical specter of judgement residing no more in him. If anything, it seemed to have made off with his usual stoicism as it fled. The tap of feet and cane resounded on the catwalk.

"So, um, if it's okay to ask--like, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to--but…”

"Yes?”

Chara took a deep breath. "Back in Waterfall, why did you react the way you did?”

"Ah. I was hoping you'd forget to bring that up…” Gaster's expression fell, pulling his cloak closer around himself and kneading the fabric between his fingers. The fingers of his right hand traced the hole in his left. "Still, I suppose I owe you an explanation.” Again the only thing that could be heard was the tap of footsteps as they progressed. Chara was just about to apologize for bringing it up when Gaster spoke again. “For as long as I can remember, I have had...anomalous reactions to stimuli. Things that might only irritate another monster can feel like nails through the skull for me, and conversely, things that would greatly pain another barely reach my awareness until someone makes a fuss about how awful it must be. Certain things overwhelm me, cause me to lose even the most basic of skills, things that ought to be innate and standard and congenital but...aren’t…”

Chara plainly saw the tears fall from his face. They were lost for words, unable to cobble together a tactful and sufficiently sympathetic response in their shock. Instead, they grabbed at his sleeve, pulling his attention back out of his sorrows. Eyes meeting, the question didn’t even need to be spoken: are you okay? “Pay no mind to my waterworks,” Gaster sighed, drying his eyes, “Judgement requires a preeminence of one’s emotions; now that it’s over I’m just a tad bit touchy. I’ll be fine.”

“So too, I also have anomalous reactions in coping with stimuli.” Stopping for a moment, he turned back towards them, hands conjured about him, “While I make it a point not to do it in public, I know you saw me do it in Waterfall.” Rhythmically, they moved, one set tapping each finger to their thumbs, another pair mimicking how to snap in slow motion, yet another entwining their phalanges tightly against each other. “Emotions for me manifest like this, like physical movements and sensations, even magical evocations. It's considered fairly normal among monsters to express themselves through magic, but, well…” His embarrassment was almost palpable as he dismissed his apparati. Pulling his cloak tighter, he curled in on himself as he turned his back towards Chara. “I've been told the way I do it is inappropriate, somehow. Excessive. I never could get him to explain why...”

“Sorry if I hit a nerve,” Chara offered. The both of them walked in silence until they reached another elevator. Staring uncomfortably out of the carriage’s reinforced windows as it ascended, they realized as it breached that they had traveled so far down that they’d reached the magma submerged sections of the CORE. The lurching stop and subsequent opening door brought them out of their fascination.

“You know, despite all the trouble it causes me, I wouldn’t hesitate a moment to keep it. If given the choice to alter my SOUL so that I were not so unpalatable, not so atypical, I’d reject it outright. Would you like to know why?” Standing in the lift’s door, hand clamping the shutters open, Gaster grinned conspiratorially, motioning them to follow. Starting to sweat, both from the heat of the lava below and a creeping uneasiness, Chara nodded. “It's because,” he continued, ushering his compatriot along, “it makes me especially good at my job. Having to monitor and compare and control and subdue my own emotions has led to a wealth of study on the nature of emotions, sentiments, reactions, and thus of the mental processes that generate them; such knowledge of which sentiments appear or are conspicuously absent in the explication of a SOUL is a fundamental aspect of divining iniquity.”

Chara laughed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, ya know what they say: ya gotta be crazy to be brilliant.” Immediately they scuttled back a ways as a howling laugh burst from their guide, his hands bracing against his cane for support as he guffawed. After a brief pause to evaluate if Gaster posed them any danger, they giggled a bit too, just as much out of nerves as mirth. “It’s true. It’s like some sort of secret rule that you’ve gotta have something messed up in the head if you’re gonna rule the world, or make some huge discovery, or start a revolution. Like, Albert Einstein. He was a hella smart dude when it came to math, but he couldn’t even tie his shoes. Or, or like, Genghis Khan. Dude almost conquered all of Asia, but he also liked seeing people pulled apart by horses. It’s kinda like...you know, it’s probably to make it more fair for average people. ‘Oh, you built a flux capacitor AND have a happy and functional marriage?’” Chara scoffed, “That’s bull, man.”

Gaster continued to shake with laughter, although he was far less loud than initially, occasional cackle still sneaking through. “Is that so?”

“Yup.” Chara was met with further chuckles. “Y’know, you also kinda prove my theory. You’re super smart, you built the entire CORE and are basically the right hand man of the King of Monsters. You can’t have all that without SOMETHING to nerf you. And, y’know, this little theory of mine...it kinda gives me hope about myself too…”

“Oh? How do you mean?”

Chara scratched their nape, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s not that hard to see I’m pretty messed up too. I know I have issues with empathy, and my family life was, well, awful, but hey! I’ve got the ‘crazy’ portion of the ‘crazy and brilliant’ rule, brilliant can’t be too far away, right?”

“While correlation doesn’t guarantee causation,” Gaster said, swaying languidly, “I have to say, I do believe you’ll be another example for your rule. Any inclination as to how you’ll be brilliant?”

“Um, not yet, I guess...I dunno, maybe I could be really awesome in helping Azzy rule once he’s king? You know, first human to hold an official position in a monster government? That’d be pretty cool…”

“You always did strike me as being material for a masterful politician. Once you learn to control your temper, that is.”

Their constant breaks in travel were making their trip exponentially longer than it ought to be, but Chara took it as an opportunity to let their eyes wander. Now that they didn't have to maintain vigilance for the wayward hazards of the CORE’s functions in the guts of its maintenance bays, they could really take in the architecture of the facility. It was like something straight out of science fiction, it's vaulted ceilings a spiderweb of circuitry and automation, polished chrome robotic arms like the limbs of spiders and industrial pistons as long as sequoia trees were tall and twice as thick stood at the ready for their grand operator's command. Massive probes rooted above descended to the magically charged lava below, occasional blue and yellow sparks flickering on its glowing coil, gently pulsing with an eerie aura. Access panels and computer monitors with stark wireframe contents in their display lined the walls, situated above registers that blew cool air against their feet, potentially keeping the textured metal flooring and grating from becoming too hot to walk on. The smell of ozone was inescapable, and so was the heat.

One detail recurred as they progressed, constantly snagging their focus. It was hard to define, but if they had to put a name to it, Chara would call them ‘glyphs.’ Embossed onto the walls in the same manner as the circuitry above, they seemed to be strategically placed, put together in long chains of sentences near the lava line, short stanzas at the roots of machinery, halos of text adorning the probes and seemingly shifting the longer they stared at them, but Chara figured it could have just been a mirage from the heat. Dragging their feet, they squinted at one of the glyphs on a hatch on the wall, curiosity winning over their better sense. Huh, it wasn’t just a mirage, they thought as they watched iridescent colors flicker in the confines of the calligraphy, shifting of their own accord regardless of how Chara tilted their head. They were almost like Hindi, but maybe a little Chinese too; either way the script was mesmerizing.

Literally mesmerizing, they realized as their head grew fuzzy and hyperfocused simultaneously, just like how they felt in the library with the suspicious book. Chara’s hands tingled and shook, their entire body feeling jittery and high-strung and itchy as static filled their ears, the smell of ozone and burning rubber choking their lungs. Their eyes couldn’t pull away, their mind couldn’t divert a single ounce of focus elsewhere, the Concept seizing them totally, unequivocally, unendingly. Nothing else, nothing beyond, only--

They saw nothing. Not due to any magical means, but a pair of white hands covering their line of sight. Blinking rapidly, Chara felt their stupor leave them, mouth dry as a desert. “For the same reason I did not let you look in my grimoire,” Gaster drawled, “it would not be wise to fixate on such ensorcellment.” Chara could only nod dumbly in reply.

Magic sure was something, they grumbled internally. G, why do ya gotta leave stuff that'll set my brain on fire just lying around? Though they did suppose that for monsters it probably wasn't anywhere near as dangerous as it was for humans, maybe it could just be read normally. Whatever it was trying to impart, they didn't want to know. Come to think of it, how did Gaster know either? Outside of the CORE, they'd sworn they'd never seen anything even remotely similar to it; it didn't really seem common to use magical writing. Even Asriel was surprised that Gaster had a spell scroll, like the notion of actually needing to write down something magical was just plain weird. So it was a language only Gaster was privy to. There's an awful lot only he seems privy to, they grumbled further.

Weirdo, Chara thought, this time with far less bile than they would have in the past. Architect, engineer, visier to a king, librarian, occultist, and most strangely a Judge, it was hard for Chara to imagine anything the monster didn't know. “Hey, Doc? Like, when did you, uh, how much do…” Chara’s tongue remained leaded from their prior daze, “Okay, so you're a Judge, and you built the CORE, and you know the King, and it's like, what's your actual job. Y’know, what do you actually, um, do?”

Gaster stopped, so suddenly that Chara nearly ran into him. The only sound around them was the churning of the CORE, and they tensed as they saw his hands apparate. Backing up, they started to apologize, only to have Gaster to turn back towards them and theatrically motion for quiet. “Long ago, long before even the War,” he began, “two races ruled the Earth: humans and monsters.” Around him, his hands danced, fingers knotting and flicking alexically, the rhythm steady. “Humans, with their powerful souls, were an ever-present danger to monsterkind. By their appearance alone, it was impossible to tell which were of peaceful intention from those bearing hatred in their hearts. Thus, the Judges emerged.”

“It's a curious thing, how they came to be. Those who studied magic, not merely performing but actively introspecting and contemplating their magic, learned of it’s source. The will that shapes the Earth to our pleasing, constructs our very SOUL’s into bodies, it draws from our sentiments, that is, the sum of our emotions and intentions. A monster knows themselves totally from the moment of conception; its sentiments are its magic are its body are its mind are its SOUL are its sentiments. Magic, the actual casting of magic rather than the ‘passive’ generation of our bodies, requires expanding the concept of self to the surroundings, incorporating the other to enact upon it our will. It's one thing to act upon an inert object or to collectivize the disparate into a cohesive construct, but to interact with another SOUL is a far, far trickier endeavor.”

This trip was turning into far, far more than Chara had bargained for, even discounting the first half of their little escapade. Gaster was steadily growing more unhinged as they went, his speech was devolving in coherency. Syllables went missing from words, strange stutters of sounds snagged in odd places, occasionally he lapsed into gibberish before continuing like he’d been cogent all along. For both his and Chara’s sake, they desperately hoped it wouldn’t end like the last time he lost his mind. What could they even do if it did? Not only was there no one around to save them, Gaster had the potential to do far more damage if he got violent in the heart of the CORE. At this point, they figured for now they could only follow and listen to him ramble. Least they could to for setting him off on his tirade, anyways. Having someone to listen to his tale would at least appease him, right?

“A Judge’s task is a precarious one. They must extend their being to encompass another’s SOUL without absorbing it; they must share the mind of another without losing their sense of self, lest they go utterly mad.” As Gaster rambled, Chara fretted that maybe their own Judgement might have triggered this. “Not only that, they must withstand the strength of a human SOUL. Immeasurable strength, innumerable barriers and labyrinths in its architecture, all with the purpose of constructing and defining its owner’s identity, and the resisting of ANY external tampering. Merely reading its remembrance is a mirror-dance of unparalleled need for perception and quick-wittedness.” They'd call the doctor a braggart, if not for the fact that recounting all of this was causing him to shake and twitch, his frantic babbling was as one trying to relay an unspeakable disaster akin to a tornado obliterating a church. “And such a treacherous dance it is. To sacrifice one’s own emotions, to perfectly mirror another’s sentiments, to be as if wholly a different person and submersed in their memory to where there's no distinction between you and them, that is the Judge’s task. Such terrible things, godless things, do human minds produce. Violent, vicious, spiteful, cruel, disdainful, fearful, cowardly, despondent, sorrowful, obsessive, confused, lost, misguided, w-well intent-t-tioned, loving…”

Oh god damn it, he's gone full nutter again, Chara groaned as the doctor fumed. The sheer unadulterated rage that warped his face and shook his frame like an earthquake was all the signal Chara needed to decide that now would be the most pertinent time to flee to whatever high-tech, uber-magical equivalent of a broom closet was closest. They turned heel to run, only to realize that the procession of apparated hands that was trailing them--and currently dancing the most distressing of ballets--would make any escape improbable. Just as they stalled to process their next moves, they felt themselves dragged back, arm practically wrenched from their socket. Flailing defensively, it was of little effect either way; Chara found themselves pulled into Gaster’s arms, held like one would a toddler, the doctor stomping along with unswayable furor Sure, okay, this is, uh, fine… Chara peeked over his shoulder. Yep, wouldn't be a psycho-party without you too, they grimaced as they eyed up the serpentine blaster now drifting behind.

“Humans are these endless, unfathomable abysses of wickedness and sin, and the most infuriating part of it all is their utter refusal to acknowledge it. Oh sure there have been a few efforts to bind it all up through religion, but it’s all undercut by the fact that their scriptures are more mythology than philosophy and on top of that they won’t even teach comprehension to the laity, they’ll just instruct them with a basic list of do’s and do not’s and leave them none the wiser, forced to always defer to their clerics at any moral ambiguity. Maybe humans are all too stupid to understand their volatility, but no! Then! Then, there are the humans who will justify evil acts of any degree with the excuse that they’re doing it for ‘the greater good,’ or ‘the glory of God,’ or even just the notion that their own satisfaction is so perversely tantamount that they’d burn the Earth to warm their hands. But, the ones that absolutely terrify me, the ones that are the ultimate example of humanity, are those who perpetuate pain and destruction out of fear. A fearful human is a cornered animal with an atomic bomb. They will do anything, anything, and it doesn’t matter how much you beg them to stop. They are afraid. They will stop at nothing to destroy what affrights them. Nothing.”

Chara was silent. There was nothing they could say. In but a few eternal minutes, Gaster pushed his way through a set of double doors, brisking through a decontamination antechamber into a laboratory, depositing his freight unceremoniously onto the tile floor. Scrambling back, Chara watched with wary eyes as the doctor ambled away, chanting something under his breath as he began to upend everything in his grasp. It became evident that he wasn't destroying the place, per se, but just as clear that his path was without intent, the kinesthetic equivalent of static. Electrometers and screwdrivers pulled out and splayed across workstations only to be immediately abandoned as the doctor drifted away to sift through various folders and binders to be forgotten in just the same way in his dissociative fray. His hands raised the rate of ensuing chaos exponentially; every pair was its own maelstrom of worthless industry. Above it all, Gaster’s serpentine construct swiveled in stalwart yet disinterested observation.

Run, Chara’s mind whispered, muscles over-wound with apprehension. His brain’s flown the cuckoo’s nest, and more importantly, he’s not paying attention to you. Slip out the door and head up and this nightmare is over. Get out before he drags you back in. But… As much as they agreed with that voice, another voice, more urge than deliberation, held them in place. The fidgeted with the hem of their shirt, stomach tied in knots. Eyes tracing the doctor’s shamble, they calculated. He’s crazy, that much is sure, Chara thought, but if I leave him here, will he be okay? It was a miracle the Temmies found him last time; can I rely on the CORE workers to just stumble upon him? They bit their lip, a realization surfacing. Say the CORE workers did find him. It was more than possible his coworkers would find him still witless and wandering, having to discover their boss completely incapacitated mentally. No, Chara resolved, I’m not gonna just abandon him.

So then what? Just wait it out? How long would that take? Add to that, there was no telling how this state would progress, or if the process would remain safe for them. Maybe there was--

Chara nearly jumped out of their skin as a crackling voice rang out overhead: “D-Dr. Gaster, p-p-please answer your p-pager, Dr. Gaster.” Alphys. If Chara had to trust anyone to help them, they couldn’t pick better than her. Sidling over to the intercom control by the door, they fumbled on the mic.

“Dr. Alphys, please report to Lab”--crap, what's the name? They swiveled their head frantically, finally spotting the needed signage. “Please come to Lab 14-32-B, Dr. Alphys.”

The response was almost instantaneous. “U-um, who is r-requesting me?”

“Dr. Gaster requires your presence in Lab 14-32-B.”

“Y-yes, b-b-but who am I, uh, c-currently speaking with? C-can I sp-speak to Dr. Gaster, p-p-please?”

“Dr. Gaster is currently, uh, preoccupied. Can I take a message?” Oh, come ON! Chara huffed. Alphys, I kinda need your cooperation here. Please? Pretty please?

“W-well, um, you see, the doctor has, um, visitors, here to see him and, well, k-kind of a lot of v-visitors, actually… Uh, th-they said that they're family??? A-and I d-don’t think they'll leave--”

“GiGi!!! GiGi, we Com to vISiTs U!!!!” Even through the garbling of the overhead speakers, Chara knew plain as day who THAT voice belonged to.

“Sorry, sorry! Th-these guys are kinda rambunctious. Um, this one’s name is Temmie...well, um, A LOT of their names are Temmie. Uh, but there's also one named Bob...somewhere…” Alphys’ nervous sweating was practically audible, and Chara had to stifle their snickering at least out of shot of the microphone.

“Hey, uh, listen,” Chara stated, “the doctor just said that he’d love to see them, he's not working on anything too volatile right now. Can you give an estimate on when you'll be here?”

“I'll st-start herding them up th-then. ETA will b-be ab-b-b-bout 15 minutes. Alphys out.” With that, the speaker returned to neutral static.

15 minutes. Let’s see how much I can patch up in the meantime, Chara thought. At first, second, and subsequent glances, however, there wasn’t really a decent place to start. Any effort towards putting things back in order would just as soon be undone by Gaster in due time, his hands a miniature tornado in scale of disorder they were causing. Well, I guess that does leave ONE place to start, they grumbled. But first…

“Alright, Snake-Eyes, you listen to me,” Chara asserted at the skull-construct floating near the ceiling, “I don’t want any sudden moves, or teeth in my ass, or death-rays blowing through my head. I’m trying to HELP, and I get that the last time you saw me I was a threat, but the thing is is that I need you to just chill while I get close to your master-creator-summoner-guy. Stay. Put. You get what I’m saying?” It shifted, and even if they couldn’t put their finger on why, Chara still got the impression that it was giving them sass. Maybe the way its eyes narrowed, or the way its snout turned up ever so slightly, but one might infer that it was skeptical. Just like its master, they thought. “I need you to trust me. Please. I’m not gonna hurt him.”

It stared. It was always staring, but this stare was marginally more calculating, more pensive, than before. Perhaps it was thinking. After a few moments, it shifted again, floating upwards to rest against the ceiling, turning its gaze away and back to Gaster; there it stayed. Guess that's the closest I'm getting to a go-ahead, Chara decided, breathing deeply. Let's go.

“Hey. Hey, hold up,” Gaster did not seem to react much to Chara’s pestering, fixated on etching 6’s into the wall with a quickly deteriorating pen. Tugging on his clothes only set him wandering again, and having to jog to keep up, they dogged the monster with increasing perseverance and irritation. “HEY! Just stop, for, like, ONE second, can you do that for me?” He stopped and sat at a workbench and began disassembling a clock-but-for-astronauts, eyes fixedly turned down. Well, he's not running around, that's a start. Hopping up on a chair across from him, Chara folded their hands on the workbench, “G-Man, I need you to say something. I'm sorry if it was something I did, but I gotta know if you're gonna be okay.”

“It wasn’t my fault…”

O...kay? What the heck did THAT mean? “Doc, I’mma need you to come back to earth for just a bit, yeah? I mean, whatever it was, it probably wasn’t your fault, but, like--”

“Why? Why did they…?” He didn’t look up once, but it was clear he wasn’t focusing on the device either, voice hardly more than a raspy whisper. It was curious to note that a pair of conjoured hands appeared to be signing before he spoke, like he was having to interpret his own thoughts to himself. At least he’s still verbal, Chara thought, that means he’s in a better state than in Waterfall, right?

“You got something you wanna get off your chest?”

Silence. The CORE’s ambience was no match to the deafening quiet of the two at the table. Despite this, the rapidly signing hands belied the facade of entropy. Finally, vocalization, “I should have tried harder...a pitiable wretch, daft, of course they’d...why can’t I hate them?” For once, his tools rested, left hand tracing the hole in the palm of his right, head still bowed. “Too far, they went too far...they were afraid, for my sake, but...begging, let me go, please stop, I can...weren’t we family…? ...the motivation from the very start...”

Too few. Too few pieces to puzzle the story together. And it didn’t matter. “G, listen to me, you’re safe. It’s over, you’re here, it’s not gonna hurt you any more.” Away he went, back to drifting. God damn it. “No, dude! Wait! Now where are you--” And now he was crawling onto the floor, curling up into a little, black ball of despondency. Sure, fine. “S’gonna be okay, Doc,” Chara went to sit beside him, patience wearing thin. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

“They tried to exorcise me.”

Their head snapped around to gape at Gaster. “WHAT!? When??? Who would do that???” He didn’t even react, doleful eyes staring at the far wall; even the maelstrom of motion from before had entirely quit, all hands gone as quickly as they were summoned. Only Chara, Gaster, and the skull above were animate in all the world, and if that just barely. Silence. Gaster traced the hole in his right hand with the fingers of his left. As the seconds ticked by, Chara found it very hard to not deafen themselves with their own breathing. “Doc, I’m so sorry…” The skull drifted down to join them, hovering stalwart above it’s master. Thanks for trusting me, Snake-Eyes, for what it was worth, they thought.

A buzzer ringing jolted Chara out of their thoughts. Alphys. And, presumably, the doctor’s family. “One second!” they shouted, dusting their shorts as they got up. “Sit tight Doc, cuz you’ve got guests.” The caterwauling groan they earned in response made them snort with laughter. “I know, I know, but I'm thinking you'll like who it is.” A quick trot away and the indicated door was released open with a hiss.

“Hello, D-D-Doctor, you requested--” Alphys’ eyebrows shot up as she processed who she was really addressing, “Wait, oh my god are you--?”

“GiGi!!!!!1!11!!!” A stampede of fluff and energy burst into the lab, Alphys squishing against the doorframe as she tried to give them all leeway. The swarm of Temmies--and, snuck into the fray, a little white dog--mobbed their monster, Gaster trilling and flapping his hands in delight at the realization of who his guests were. Trills and purrs and playful growls answered him as they were enraptured with each others’ company. The biggest smile Chara had ever seen Gaster wear was plastered on his face as he succumbed to the mob of puff balls.

“What even happened here?” Alphys gaped at the disaster of a room, raising her clipboard up defensively as she looked upward, “And what the HECK is THAT!?”

“Honestly, haven't a clue,” Chara quipped back, their grin dampened slightly by a creeping exhaustion. “The doctor’s had kinda a rough day, maybe we should give him some alone time with the fam?”

“Y-you’re not authorized t-to be here…” The lizard pinched below the bridge of her glasses as she continued to survey the mess, only to catch her faux pas, “Oh my gosh, you're the human! I-I-I mean, uh, you're, um, your highness? You are Prince Asriel's sibling, c-c-correct? I w-wasn’t t-t-trying to, um, be disrespectful or--”

“Hey, it’s all cool, no offense taken. You can call me Chara. Um, by the way, I have a small favor to ask. Would you be able to bring me, y’know, back up top? I should probably be heading home…”

“Your parents don't know you're here?” Alphys’ claws began to shake as Chara withheld a ‘yes’. “Sure, sure, definitely, we’ll, we'll b-be right b-b-back up to the civilian levels in no t-time!” She turned heel, looking like she about to flee, when she momentarily hesitated, casting a look back at her boss. “Doctor, we're leaving now. I-Is that alright…?”

Chara looked back as well. Gaster was still a dogpile of Temmies; he looked downright blissful. He'd be alright. “Bye, G, chill out and take care, I'll see you around.” Stepping out into the corridor, they kept their pace slow enough for Alphys to catch up, her jogging gait tapping just behind them. They walked along, conversation held at bay by the ambience of machinery as much as unfamiliarity between the two as they progressed along the catwalk. Still, there was one more thing to be said: “Hey, Dr. Alphys? Please don’t gossip about what you saw back there with your coworkers or anything. It just feels like it’d be disrespectful, y’know?”

“A-Absolutely. I know better than to let something like that get out,” she sighed, hands ruefully in her pockets, “If Dad found out again, he’d--I, I m-m-mean, of course! I’ve got my lips sealed!” Alphys quickened her pace, that last thought cast away in anxious flippancy. Her dad? Chara mulled over that tidbit; didn’t Gaster say some time ago his old mentor was Alphys’ dad? What was his name, something they recollected starting with a ‘K’, but they could suss up nothing more specific. It was a bit more troubling that the Royal Scientist had had more than one of these ‘episodes’, but for now, neither thoughts demanded Chara’s immediate attention. Better to let them rest.

“Hey, uh, I had one more question I wanted to ask?” Chara shifted from one foot to the other as Alphys shifted her attention towards them from an elevator’s call panel to listen more keenly, “When we were on the intercom, how’d you guess I wasn’t a CORE worker?”

“Because,” she giggled, “No one here refers to me as Dr. Alphys. Because I’m not a Dr. At least not yet anyways. Geez, I haven’t even finished my Master’s yet, I hardly believed my ears when I heard you. Anyways, ready to head up?”

Chara chuckled. “Yeah, it’s time to go home.”

Chapter Text

“Chara, OW!”

“Then say ‘uncle’!”

“NEVER!!!” Asriel squirmed under their sibling’s weight, flailing as grass and dirt flew around their tussle. Snaking his right arm free, he shoved Chara up just enough to curl his legs up and push them off fully. He lept up and tackled them as they nearly succeeded in rolling out of the way, giving a squawk of indignation upon being landed on. “Ha! You thought you got me there, huh?” he gloated.

Chara, to their credit, was giving their damndest in getting loose themself. Growling like a feral animal, they thrashed as Asriel pinned them tight. Straining and snarling as they might, their brother had squashed them into the ground. There wasn’t even enough room to slip their arms out of their sleeves for a surprise attack. Asriel leaned close to their sibling’s ear “Say. ‘Uncle’.”

A howling ‘nooo’ emitted from Chara’s throat in defiance as they struggled further, but all in vain. As they finally lay panting in the loam, they twisted their head around to scowl up. “Okay, fiiiiine, you win, I guess…”

“You didn’t say it,” Asriel chided in a singsong voice, eliciting an exasperated sigh. “C’mon, saaay it,”

“Ugh, alright!” Turning their head away, they grumbled into the dirt, “Uncle, or whatever…”

“Pfft, you’re just mad I’m finally getting stronger than you.” Climbing off their sibling, Asriel wiggled his fingers at them, “Ooooh, the big, scary human got owned! I didn’t even need to use magic!”

“You never even use magic when we’re wrestling anyways!” Chara sniped back, pulling a clump of dirt out of their hair. “Besides, if you did, it’d be cheating.”

Asriel flopped back into a sitting position. “Mmm, yeah. Still, I win.” Sighing, he wiped his brow as he relaxed into the grass, letting his eyes unfocus in the late afternoon sun filtering down into the Underground. He puffed as he caught his breath.

“By the way, I kinda wanted to ask you…” Chara drawled and leaned over. Something in their expression was giving Asriel a funny feeling, like they were going to tell him a secret. Asriel knew that look. The look of conspiracy. “How does magic work anyway?”

“Well geez, why don’t you ask me the answer to life, the universe, and everything while you’re at it?” he snickered. “But, like, that is a really big question. It’d be the equivalent of me asking you ‘how do you human?’”

“Okay, how about this: I’ll answer your ‘how to human’ questions, and then you tell me what the magical equivalent is like. If there’s like no exact thing, then just give me a cool aspect about magic, like your favorite kind of magic to do. Fair?” Asriel nodded; that’d be easy enough. Chara had poked at the subject a few times before, but hey, it wasn’t a big deal to try explaining it to them one more time. “Sooo...you’re gonna have to ask first,” Chara stated, “‘cause I don’t really know how to narrow down the topic. I’ll follow your lead.”

Huh. Gee, I don’t really know either, Asriel thought. It’s not like I haven’t got any questions, but which one to start with? Scratching the fluff behind his ears, he hummed in contemplation. “Alright, I’ve got one. How do humans make more humans?”

Chara wailed in exasperation, flopping onto the ground in a slightly more melodramatic display than usual. What? What’d I say? Asriel chuckled in bemusement, seeing as whatever answer Chara might have given him, THIS wasn’t expected. “Or we can start with a different question, no biggie, lemme just--”

“I’ll answer,” Chara grumbled from the grass, “but you gotta start first. How are monsters made?”

Asriel chuckled again, more assuredly. “Fine, fine. And then you get to explain that reaction.” Pushing his ears behind his shoulders, he shifted into a cross-legged tutelage. “When two or more monsters--”

“Two or MORE???”

“Did you want me to explain it or not?” Asriel huffed, “Well, usually it's two or three, but sometimes it's like a whole village, and rarely some monsters decide to create a child on their own, but it's super hard to do that.” He paused, just enjoying Chara’s expressions. In spite of monsters aging slower than humans, it was rare that Asriel got to feel older and wiser than his younger sibling. It felt cool. Not receiving any interjections, he continued. “So when monsters are making a baby, they fuse their souls all together so they can pool their magic, and they basically put a part of their souls into what’s called a Soul Seed. That’s basically the pre-baby; like it's an actual separate soul now, but there isn't a body or mind yet, it's still gotta grow. After that, it needs some kind of body, so the parents usually decide which of them is gonna grow the baby from their own physical form. A lot of monsters lay eggs, some monsters gather material to give their baby a body before they create a Soul Seed and then place them in their built home, and some monsters even give live birth. Like my mom.”

Asriel snickered at the awe and horror on their sibling’s face. “What? Did you never get the ‘birds and bees’ talk?” It wasn't that weird, was it? Nah, Chara was just being immature. As much as they postured, even Asriel knew a lot of their maturity was pure bluff, making it all the more cute when they put their guard down and let themself be silly or astonished. It felt special, like something only the two of them would share. “Okay, now it's your turn.”

“Wow,” Chara stated, leaning back in contemplation, “That was, like, super mushy and poetic. You're gonna be disappointed by the human method, 'cause it's not anywhere as cool as that. Ummm…” They scratched their head, suddenly not able to make eye contact. “Honestly, it's pretty gross and weird and uncomfortable, so don't judge too hard, okay?”

“I won't judge you, Chara. You know that.”

Chara was doodling in the dirt with their fingers, an almost angry expression having coming over their face. “It's not just me!” they snapped, “...at least I think it's not… Screw it, let's just get this over with. So humans have two types, males and females, and males have dicks and females have vaginas and you get exactly both of them together and the sausage-dick goes in the the vagina-hole and they keep doing that til they get tired, and sometimes all that weird shit results in a baby.”

“Uh…”

“Told you you'd be disappointed.” Chara went back to tracing in the dirt, even more sour faced.

Sidling over to his sibling, Asriel side-eyed as hard as he, Toriel Dreemurr’s begotten son, could side-eye. “So I get this isn't your favorite topic,” he broached, “But that explanation? Was lousy. If you want come back to it later, that’s fine, but let it stand that you didn't explain anything.” In jest, he jabbed Chara’s shoulder. “Now I've just got, like, a million billion more questions. You even forgot to tell me where their souls come in.”

Chara mumbled out something akin to an apology. The pattern they had drawn below them was really quite elaborate, tight-wound swirls and train-track lines all spiderwebbed together, suddenly dashed away in an instant. “They don't. It's just an act adults do because it feels good. Most of the time they don't even want kids anyway, but they'll still do it. Souls, or love, or any of that mushy stuff doesn't play a part. And kids are just 'accidents,’ even though making kids is what sex is for.” They began tracing once more. “You don't know how much it sucks to be an accident. Knowing that your parents were just fooling around and you were an unwanted consequence. Some humans are made with love, I guess, but then there's me: the accident, the consequence, the selfish brat that just sucks up all their time and resources. The mistake.”

“Chara, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--”

“What are you saying sorry for? You asked, I answered. Simple as that.” Chara's voice had taken on a curt tone, glib almost. Asriel knew that tone. The 'I’m fine’ voice. The 'you can't hurt me anymore’ voice. He pulled his sibling into a hug, squeezing like somehow it could make up for all the missing hugs his little sibling deserved all those years. “Thanks,” they mumbled, sinking into his fur.

“Maybe your parents weren't ready for you, but I'm glad you're here.”

“Is it wrong that I don't miss them?” they asked. “I mean, sometimes I miss my human mom, but then I remember that I don't really have all that many memories of her. My biological dad went and noped right out of my mom’s life once he learned she was pregnant, and my step-dad was a drunk, angry asshole, so screw both of them, but sometimes I still feel guilty that I don't, I dunno, wish they'd come find me? Think about them enough?” They sighed.

“I don't think there's a right or wrong answer for that. But I think that you're the best sibling I could have, and I'm glad you came here. Mom and Dad think so too.”

“Thanks, Azzy. You've always got the right thing to say, y'know that? It'd be kinda annoying if it wasn't so nice.” They rested against his shoulder, ruby eyes unfocusing into the distance. “Do you wanna make a baby?”

“Wha--? Right now?!” He squeaked, summarily getting shoved into the grass. Flailing, he once again found himself wrestling with Chara.

Pinning his arms to the side, they looked down at him with a Cheshire grin. “Yes. Right now. Pants down, soul out, all that jazz. Chop-chop, broseph,” they just managed to get out before collapsing on their brother in a fit of snorting guffaws. Asriel shoved them off with a laugh.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he chided, “You and I both know you're crazy impulsive. Besides, you caught me off guard.”

“Wha?! Right now?!?!” Chara mimicked, still rolling with laughter. It took a fair moment longer for them to lose mirth over his outburst than it did Asriel. He rolled his eyes as his sibling finally settled down with a few residual giggles among coughs. “You didn't even answer my question either, ya dingus.”

“I mean, I guess I'd want kids eventually? I haven't really given it a lot of thought yet. It'd have to be with someone really special too…”

“Like who?”

You, thought Asriel. He physically bit his tongue to keep himself from blurting the answer out, feeling his face get hot. I can't say that, he fretted, Chara would laugh even more at me! But what if they didn't? In the sudden cavalcade of scenarios that might play out if he let slip his feelings, he felt his throat grow tight. “I don't know!” he hollered, voice cracking as if to betray his fibbing, “I haven't thought about it yet! Are you gonna ask a serious question or not?!”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, real magic questions. Lemme think now,” Chara pondered a moment before perking back up, “Okay! So, how do you actually cast magic? Like, you’re good with fire magic, can you walk me through the process of how you get from ‘no fire’ to ‘FWOOSH!’?”

Asriel chuckled nervously, breathing in relief as the conversation had switched gears. “Sure, I can try. What’ll you offer then?”

“How humans get sick. I know I gave you a cruddy answer before, but I know A LOT about this topic so I can give you all the icky details,” Chara grinned wolfishly, “Trust me, it’s way cooler than ‘some stuff just reacts badly with our magic.’”

“Deal.” Collecting his thoughts, Asriel gazed into the distance, the afternoon sun having turned from it's midday gold to an ember-like hue that teased the coming twilight. Was it really getting that late? An irksome nag at the back of his mind hinted that he had forgotten something. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't relevant right now, he thought, once more focusing on the orange tint his father’s subterranean garden was gaining. Think magic, he meditated, think fire…

“Alright, I think it'd be easier if, instead of just explaining it to you, we walk through the steps together, okay?” The face-splitting grin and manic nod Chara gave as reply gave Asriel knots in his stomach. “But ONLY if you promise not to burn anything! Dad would blow his lid if we set his flowers on fire!”

“I’m not gonna burn--”

“Chara, I'm serious! If you're gonna go all pyromaniac on me--”

“I won’t! I swear!” In full seriousness, they leaned forward, arm extended and fist balled tight, except for one, sole finger, “Pinky swear.”

Asriel wrapped his own pinky around his sibling’s. Let’s do this, then. “So to start, you’ve gotta be in the right frame of mind, you know? Here,” he said, sitting cross-legged and disciplined, “just focus on your breathing for a little bit. Try and let your mind quiet down, kind of like preparing to go to sleep.” Carefully following suit, Chara closed their eyes as they too sat cross-legged, shifting more than a few times in getting comfy. Their breathing slowed to a deliberate rhythm. “Focus on what you're feeling, on your breathing, on the warmth in the air, on the grass against your skin, as much as you can. Focus on as many feelings as you can at the same time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Once you're calm and focused, you have to let your mind drift a little, let your edges get fuzzy.”

Chara's face scrunched up as they cocked their head, “What the heck does 'let your edges get fuzzy’ mean?”

“It's okay that you don't understand. When Dad first tried explaining it to me, it took days to figure this part out.” Asriel stretched his legs to keep them from cramping as he expounded. “Basically, we go through the day with a really clear idea of what we are, like physically if I look at my paws or my ears I know that's 'me’ and if I look at the grass or a book I know that's 'not me’. Well, the whole world does the same thing; the grass knows it's grass, the rocks know they're rocks, and so on, 'cause that's just how the universe told them how to be. But in order to do magic, first you have to convince the other that it's actually a part of you, and THEN you can light it on fire or throw it across the room or whatever. Does that kind of make sense?”

According to the curled lip and raised eyebrow of his siblings face, it was definitely not ‘making sense’. “Alright, let me get this straight, Deepak Chopra,” they began, each syllable soaked in skepticism, “if I want to magic on something, first I gotta mind meld with the INANIMATE OBJECT and CONVINCE it that it's, like, a part of my hand or something??”

“Y-yeah…? I, um, don't really know how to make it any simpler than that… But! But it's a hard concept, so don't feel bad, okay?” Asriel wasn't quite sure what to make of Chara's intense staring at him, like they were trying to suss out any shred of folly. He'd swear on his soul his explanation was truthful if they asked, but the intensity of the scrutiny was just a bit unwelcome.

“Aight. Let's miracle this bitch.” Ripping up a clump of grass, they clutched it with a furor so intense that their fist shook. Every muscle in their body was tensed, every iota of concentration channeled; their eyes burned with the passion of the very setting sun that even now pierced through the gaps of their subterranean prison. Asriel waited, breathing tight in anticipation, equally bright in his chest the hope for his sibling finally discovering the joy of magic.

And still he waited. After about half a minute had passed, it became increasingly difficult to maintain credulity. Not that seeing their sibling wasn’t a bit disappointing in its own right, but Asriel couldn’t stop the simmering guilt that crept up on him as his anticipation waned, like his doubting was going to hinder Chara’s progress. If it did, Chara certainly didn’t know it, intensity still etched in their every feature. As the seconds and minutes drifted by, Asriel’s attention did too, eyes wandering back towards the cavern ceiling. Is it really that late? The sun must have passed clear over the horizon now, for where there was once embery luminance, now only the dusky hues of evening remained. Again his mind nagged that he was forgetting something, the oncoming twilight tapping some button to remember all the way in the back of his psyche. Which helped not at all because WHAT he was supposed to remember was decidedly not forthcoming. Was it an event, like a birthday? It definitely wasn't his birthday, nor Chara's, nor even his parents’, who weren't even all that particular with when they celebrated anyways. Part of living for centuries, he supposed. Was it something he needed to do, like a deadline? If it was, he hadn't the faintest clue what he was late on or why it'd be new now. This itch was really starting to drive him nuts.

“Aaauuugh,” Chara fumed, startling Asriel back into focus. They threw their clump back into the grass, leaping to their feet. “Okay, new plan. I’m gonna light my hair on fire. ‘Cause, like, that’s already a part of me, it shouldn’t be too much farther to ‘convincing’ it into magical stuff, right?”

“Chara, no!” Asriel yelped, leaping up with their sibling, making to...well, it wasn’t like they were successful yet, so there wasn’t really much to stop, but still.

“Don’t even try to stop me, don’t even think of it!” Chara proclaimed, setting their feet in a wide stance and a manic grin on their face, “Get the water, Azzy, 'cause this 'ho is on FIYAAAAAH!!!” With that, they commenced screaming in a way upsettingly reminiscent of turning super-Saiyan. Azzy, he thought to himself, please think of a way to get your sibling to stop embarrassing themself.

“What the hell are you two doing!?”

They whirled around to face the accusatory snarl, finding, far too close for comfort, that Dr. Gaster stood above them. “Heya, G-Man. You’re lookin’ snazzy tonight,” Chara quipped. Where Chara strode forward in amicable fashion, Asriel shrunk back. Mom was right about him, he thought as he hid behind his sibling, there’s something wrong going on with that guy. Even he was able to see it, like an ink-spatter in a pastel illustration, there was a distinct aberration from the world that pervaded his wake. Something more than just weirdness, he could feel it as he could sense his sibling’s soul beside him. Swallowing, he shook away the skittishness he greeted the scientist in turn.

Gaster stood with an inscrutable energy, eye-lights dissecting the two in his glare. “If I am to understand what I have heard,” he rasped, “you, Asriel Dreemurr, were attempting to induct this human into magic?” Asriel stuttered a meager explanation, only to find his and Gaster’s faces only inches apart. “Humans are not to learn magic,” he growled, “Do not make me repeat myself.”

Chara shoved their way between them, arms crossed. “Dude, chill. We were just fooling around. I didn’t even manage to set my hair on fire or anything.” That set Gaster pacing away, back and forth, his hands summoned around him. “Aw, geez, he’s tweaking again,” Chara sighed, “C’mon, let’s head inside and give him some space.”

“You don't understand!” Gaster shrieked, clutching his head in his hands, “Magicians, sorcerers, corrupted megalomaniacs, vile!” Asriel shrunk towards his sibling even tighter.

“Wh-what do we--” he whispered in his sibling’s ear, only to be cut short by being spun around by his shoulders, Chara holding him reassuringly.

“What we do is we head inside,” they stated, pulling him away. “Trust me, he’ll be fine once he works it out--”

“THERE YOU TWO ARE!” Asgore's booming voice caused them to jump, pivoting to see him march towards them with a stern expression. And, Asriel noted, in rather formal attire. “You two were supposed to be washed up and dressed for tonight’s ball an hour ago.” His eyes flickered over their shoulders and back at Chara, “And why is my Royal Scientist in distress?”

“Why’re you looking at me?” Chara whined.

“You know precisely why I'm looking at you.” The king sighed, striding past them. Reaching the doctor, he grasped him below the arms, holding the instantly inert man like a great doll. “Gaster and I will have a chat. In the meantime, your mother is waiting for you in your room. Do not make her wait any longer.”