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Gaster wasn't a big alcoholic. He thought the smell of booze was foul. He thought the taste was worse than the chemical in his lab. He even found the color to be both boring and bothersome. The sight of it reminded him of a chemistry lab. How many drinks would it take to get him to react? Would mixing one with another cause a different reaction? Would he die? Throw up? Be totally unaffected? Most of all, did he care to know the results?
Grillby knew Gaster wasn't a drinker. Even before they became...well, he didn't quite know what to call them. Gaster wasn't a regular. He truthfully only came in once a week maybe when no one else was around and would get so wasted Grillby had to cut him off. Gaster would then start talking about thinks Grillby didn't understand, sometimes crying. Then he'd leave and Grillby wouldn't see or speak to him until he came back. They never spoke outside of the bar and have never formally been introduced either. Knowing this, Grillby offered all he could to the man who was clearly in need of help.
As a bar owner Grillby knew his selling of alcohol caused some monsters to overindulge and he felt bad for that. He'd seen drunken mishaps, cheating, flirting, and even a few broken families caused by the booze he sold. He hated seeing it, and truthfully tried to stop others before they got too out of control, but this was his job and he couldn't keep them all away especially when they seemed so dependent on it.
“I did a horrible thing,” Gaster whispered into his drink. His sockets closed, expression of genuine pain. “Such horrible things.” He continued, curling in on himself. Grillby remained silent, his hand stilling on the glass he as drying off. “I...I didn't know. I wouldn't have taken the job if this was the cost.” Gaster swalled down the rest of his drink and despite his better judgment, Grillby refilled it.
“Last one,” He said quietly refilling Gaster's small glass.
“Have you ever hurt someone? Purposefully?” Grillby stared at the man who looked up at him with a broken expression.
“No,” He answered truthfully.
“I did and they didn't deserve it. They trusted me. Why? I don't deserve it. I don't deserve anything.” Gaster rested his head in his hands.
“I...I'm sure that's not true,” Grillby said trying to offer support.
“What do you know?!” Gaster snapped cursing as he turned away. “I'm sorry. I-...” Gaster sobbed, abandoning his glass as he cried into his hands. Grillby tensed, unsure of what to do. “G-Grillby?” Gaster asked, controlling his sobbing. “Is it wrong to hurt someone for the sake of saving others?”
“I don't know how to answer that,” The flame told him.
“It is right? One life for thousands? If-If saving the entire Underground meant killing one little monster would you do it?” Grillby held his breath for a moment.
“...No.”
“And if you did?” Grillby was silent. “I don't want to hurt them.” Gaster whispered and Grillby felt torn between calling the guards and trying to offer support.
“Then don't.”
“I don't have a choice! It's my job! It's what I have to do. I have to break the barrier! I have to save everyone! No matter the costs! That is what I agreed to do that is what Asgore told me!”
“I'm sure he didn't mean this.” Grillby said and Gaster let out a sad laugh.
“And if he did? Either way it doesn't matter. I-I can't stop. But I can't go on. I can't anymore it's killing me. This-This guilt. Their screams. It haunts me. I can't live with this anymore!”
“Gaster, you are scaring me.”
“Imagine how they feel!” He shouted knocking his glass aside. “I can't do this anymore. I can't. They're so young. This isn't science it's cruelty. I didn't agree to this. I didn't want this. And I can't go back.” Gaster tried to stand up by wobbled and grabbed onto the bar. Grillby stepped forward ready to help but stopped himself. “Grillby? Are-Are we friends? Do you trust me?” Grillby felt conflicted but answered.
“Yes.” Lie.
“Will you take care of them?” His sockets were so hopeful.
“Take care of who?”
“Please take care of them, Grillby. Please they deserve so much.” Gaster sobbed.
“Who? Gaster, who are you talking about?” Grillby pressed.
“I can fix this.” Gaster breathed out pushing away from the bar. “I have to. I did this. I'm the only one who can fix it. I can do what's right.” Gaster sprinted over to the door.
“Gaster! Gaster, wait!” Grillby cried, running after him. However when he reached the door Gaster was already gone.
Grillby clung to Gaster's words, the doctor's madness scaring him. This is, until he forgot about the encounter as a whole and everything related to Gaster.
It was the following day the paper said there was an explosion in the unoccupied building of the royal scientist. Thankfully no one had yet been given the position. Grillby was struck with an even bigger surprise when he opened his back door and found two frightened skeletons standing there. They looked up at him, trembling in their place. The taller one held onto a note that Grillby took.
Take care of them.
Grillby's head pounded and he winced, reaching up to grab at it. His vision blurred momentarily but he pushed it aside to start down at the children. His soul pounded oddly, a bizarre sense of almost longing? Care? Concern? He...He didn't know. Did he know them? Know who sent them? Who wrote the note? He had to right? But who? Why? Wh-
One child sneezed and Grillby returned to reality. Without another thought, he stepped aside and held the door open for the children.
“Come on, let's get you warmed up.”