#it returns!!!

For the second time in as many days, Sans found himself suddenly shocked awake.  Terror gripped him, feelings of pain and helplessness still so real that only the warmly lit room and the grounding reassurance of his brother's voice close by made him realize that he was truly safe.  At least this time he didn't remember the nightmare that had inspired them.  He'd had enough nightmares to last him multiple lifetimes already.

Sans pressed his palms against his eye sockets, not quite blocking out the light but dimming it to only the thin beams that peeked through the natural gaps in his metacarpals.  He felt warm, like he'd just stepped into the lava lit caverns of Hotland.  Only, the heat wasn't coming from glowing magma that boiled away beneath the rocks of their underground prison.  It was coming from inside himself.  Determination raced in his body, searing its way through marrow with every pulse of his soul.  It was a very familiar sensation.  

He could sense Papyrus nearby.  He would have known the other skeleton was there even if he hadn't spoken a word.  The magic of his soul, tones of blue underscored with a warm orange that Sans would know anywhere, radiated with anxious energy.  Papyrus said something else, though Sans could not catch the meaning of his uncharacteristically quiet words.  He answered with a low groan, channeling all his discomfort, distress, and irritation into a single unquestionably grouchy sound.

Chuckling faintly, Papyrus placed a gloved hand on his skull.  Sans leaned into the touch, drinking in the comparative cool of winter-chilled fabric.  For once, his brother didn't even complain that Sans was getting sweat on his nice, clean gloves.  And somehow, it was that one seemingly inconsequential detail that tipped the scales.  This wasn't right.  None of it was.  And unlike the countless resets rewinding time over and over in a hellish loop, this time he wasn't the only one who knew.  He couldn't just ignore this and pretend it all away.  It was real.  More real than anything in his life had been for so long.  Laughter bubbled up in his throat, giddy and manic, even as he shut his sockets tight against the sting of rising tears.  Trembling fingers gripped at his skull with the distinctive scraping sound of bone on bone.

The gloved hand against his head tensed but did not pull away.  “Sans?”

As tempting as it was to give up completely and throw the tattered remains of his sanity to the winds, Sans knew he couldn't do that.  The one and only thing he could never give up on was right there with him.  Even though his very existence was causing his sibling so much trouble, he couldn't bring himself to entertain the idea of taking the easy way out and leaving Papyrus.  Especially not when Gaster, or some twisted fragment of him at least, was lurking around.  His hysterical giggling tapered off and he let his hands fall away.  His mouth curved into a lazy grin, so well practiced that doing so was nearly automatic.  “i'm fine.”

“You most certainly are not!  You … you … “  Papyrus looked away from him.  He forced shaking fists into his lap and sat there stiffly, his arms as rigid as metal bars.  “Do you remember what happened back there?”

“uh … maybe?”  If Sans was going to be honest with himself, a practice he had a long standing distaste for, he'd have to admit that his memories of the previous day were a jumbled mess.  He didn't even know for sure if it had been the previous day.  He could have been asleep for hours or days and he'd have no way of knowing the difference.  And what he did remember from before his unplanned nap didn't make much sense.  He'd seen the thing that had once been Gaster, at least he was fairly sure he had, and even heard what passed for his voice.  But, what then?  Try as he might, Sans only managed to recall snippets of conversation, fleeting flashes of anger and fear, and a sensation so twisted, so utterly  wrong, that he immediately abandoned the train of thought that had let him to it.  

“He did something to you and … and you …  changed.”  Papyrus pulled at the end of his scarf, wringing the ragged fabric into a tight, cord-like coil.  His shoulders shook.  “You almost looked like one of the blasters.”

The fragments of his memories surged forward, breaking through the weak mental barriers Sans had placed around them.  He remembered something pulling at him.  Stretching his body.  Bending his limbs in ways they were never meant to go.  He barely suppressed a gag as the wrongness of it washed over him.  There had been claws, sharp and curved, where his fingers had been.  Long, pointed fangs had crowded his mouth.  His soul had burned.  Stars, his soul was burning!  

Sans hissed a long breath through clenched, blunt teeth.  He flexed his fingers, tangling them in the bedsheets.  There were no claws.  No fangs.  No burn beyond the slowly fading heat of Determination.  It had happened, he knew that no matter how much he wished he could forget, but it was in the past.  He let out a shaky chuckle, hating himself just a little bit more at the pathetic sound of it.  “well … guess that was a thing.”

“Don't joke about this Sans.”

The older skeleton could count the number of times he heard such a quiet, solemn tone from his sibling on one hand.  He didn't like it one bit, but it wasn't like he could argue.  “okay.”

“The queen healed you.  W-well, she tried to.  She said there wasn't much physical damage left, and that you would need rest to heal your magic.  If it could be healed.”

Ooh.  So that's what had Papyrus, the poster boy for upbeat optimism, so far down in the dumps that he might as well be underwater.  The dreaded 'if'.  Sans wanted to reassure his little brother that everything was okay, no questions asked, but he knew that sort of empty reassurance wasn't welcome here.  Papyrus needed the truth, even if it hurt.  

After a few deep, steadying breaths, Sans summoned his soul.  He let it drift out of him, hovering in the air, and slowly cupped his hands around it.  It felt a bit too warm, but not burning hot like in his unwanted memories.  The glow it cast was the same cool, soothing blue it had always been, the colors shifting together like gently flowing water.  Beneath the pristine white surface was a faint flush of red.  At its core, wrapped around the piece of artificial magic that had become such an intrinsic part of him, Sans sensed the living pulse of Determination.  It would have worried him if it had been an entirely new development, but it was simply stronger than before.  'More' that it had been.  

Sans ran his thumb lightly across his soul's pliable surface, checking for cracks and finding none.  It's light may have been weak in comparison to what he'd normally expect, but it was there.  Unchanged and present.  There was no darkness in him nor any other external force at play beyond things that had been present in him, in one form or another, for so long already.  As far as Sans was concerned, that's what mattered.  He released the magical core and let it fade from sight, sinking back into his body where it belonged.  The smile that stretched across his features was a bit more relaxed and genuine than it had been.  “i think i'm okay.”

Papyrus sighed, his shoulders dipping in a way that reminded Sans of the air being slowly let out of an overinflated balloon.  “Thank goodness.”

Sans's eye lights sparked with mischief.  This was a prime opportunity for some familiar, comfortable heckling.  A few bad puns and he'd have Papyrus back to his old screaming self.  He even had the perfect one, a joke so bad yet so perfectly timed that it was sure to derail this awful pity train!  But … he couldn't.  Papyrus had asked him not to joke about this, and he'd agreed.  No matter how uncomfortable it made Sans to leave the truth there, lurking between them like the ugly specter it was, that's what he had to do.  His brother needed the truth, even if it hurt.  And maybe, though he'd never admit it, Sans needed it this time too.  

He let Papyrus haul him out of bed, no matter how reluctant he was to abandon the secluded comfort of his room, and even let his brother fuss over him some when he swayed on his feet.  He'd just woken up and he already felt drained, that just wasn't fair.  Sure, him being low on energy was safer for everyone right now, but if he was going to be forced to take an impromptu transformation-induced nap the least the universe could do was make him feel refreshed once he woke up.  He was still grumbling under his breath about the utter lack of common decency from the forces that be when they descended the stairs leading to the brothers' overly crowded living room.  

Toriel was camped out on the couch, Frisk sitting at her feet, and Undyne lurked near the window.  Though it looked like the warrior had been keeping watch at her self-designated post, her attention, along with that of the other two in the room, was now firmly fixed on the brothers.  Sans could feel the weight of their gaze pressing down on him, their anxiousness and expectation smothering in the confines of the small house.  He forced himself to wave with the minimum amount of effort that such an action could possibly require.  “hey.”

“Hey,” Undyne replied with forced cheer, her booming voice almost hollow.  “Look who's up.  Took ya long enough.”

Sans shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets with a well practiced casual air.  “you know me, can't resist a good nap.”

Papyrus gave him a little nudge towards the couch where Toriel sat and Sans eagerly took the hint.  He trudged over and let himself fall onto its well worn softness, more grateful that he'd have liked to admit to be off his shaky legs again.  He slouched against the lumpy cushions

Toriel placed a warm, broad hand on his arm, drawing his attention.  “Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her features pinched with worry.  

“ya, i ...” the words caught in his throat.  He couldn't stand the concern in her eyes, a look so very much like the one Papyrus had stared him down with not long ago.  It demanded the truth.  “i'm doing okay.  tired and kinda achy, but okay.”

Frisk hopped up onto the couch, the small human wriggling between them and pressing against his side.  Their small arms wrapped around his waist.  For just a moment, Sans couldn't help but be afraid.  The atrocities this deceptively small creature had wrought weren't something that he could easily cast aside.  The swath of death and destruction that they'd carved through the underground had been carved into his soul as well, and not just thanks to the knife that had sliced through his ribs.  He knew just how strong those thin arms truly were.  How they could crush an unsuspecting monster, grinding them into dust.  But the human's grip was gentle now.  Their tiny hands, clean without the faintest traces of dust, clung to his shirt as if he were the strong one.  

Sans set his hand on their head, running spindly fingers through dark brown hair, and when Frisk looked up at him with that same pleading concern he'd seen from the others it didn't hurt the way he'd been expecting it to.  “it'll be alright kid,” he said, soft and soothing.  “we'll figure this out.”

Undyne cleared her throat in a glaringly deliberate sort of way.  “Hate to break up this sap-fest, but we do have a problem here.”  

Sans sighed, the movement of his hands slowing to the point of stillness.  Damn, he did not want to face this yet.  If ever.  “ya, i know.”

“It really was him,” Toriel said if only to break the uneasy silence threatening to take over.  Her voice was low and soft with barely hidden distress, and Sans couldn't help but feel all the more guilty for dragging her into this mess.  

“Mister ex-royal scientist.  And apparently your dad.”  Undyne hissed under her breath, running a hand through the thin fringe of crimson hair that had pulled itself free of her tightly bound mane.  “Shit.”  

Papyrus shifted his weight from foot to foot, too anxious to stop moving entirely but unwilling to let other, more obvious nervous habits show how upset this whole thing truly made him.  “He recognized us.  I thought … maybe, that was a good thing.  That he'd stop and listen to us.  But … but he … “  

Though each person present knew what Papyrus was trying to say, none of them stepped up to say it themselves.  Sans didn't need to look at them to know why.  Whatever it was that had happened to him when he'd changed, it had certainly left an impression.  

Toriel straightened where she sat, the subtle movement easily drawing the attention of those around her.  “Sans, you said that a part of Gaster came back, but not all of him.  If you know something that would be helpful in this situation,” her large hand squeezed his shoulder, a fraction of her true strength making itself known, “I do wish you would tell us.”

Sans fixed his smile in place as surely as if it had been carved in stone.  His eye lights flickered faintly as his gaze darted from person to person.  For a moment he locked eyes with Papyrus and saw his own apprehension reflected back at him.  Then he blinked and it was gone, stowed away beneath so many layers of forced optimism and needless bravado that anyone else could pretend it didn't exist at all.  

The younger skeleton squared his shoulders, puffing up his chest as if he had something to prove in this room full of their patchwork family.  “I can tell them brother.”

“nah, it's okay pap.”  Much as it pained him to let an easy out slip by him, Sans knew that there were some things that you just have to do on your own.  Even with his brother's memory rapidly returning, there were still important things that Papyrus didn't know.  Things he'd never known, and that Sans had wished he'd never need to learn.  But if letting those demons out was what it took to protect his only remaining family from the thing now stalking him, then so be it.  “it isn't coming back that did it to him.  hell it wasn't even the accident that scattered him in the first place.  the old man had lost his soul a long time before that.”

“The hell?” Undyne all but shouted, her jagged teeth bared in a sneer of disbelief.  “If he'd lost his soul, he would have dusted.  No one can survive something like that, not even a boss monster.”

“heh, you'd think so.  but, nope.  ol' doc was too determined to die.”  Sans snickered at his own awful joke, even though he didn't find it the slightest bit funny.  “he was researching all sorts of crazy stuff.  powerful magic.  human magic.  things went wrong and, well, turns out that stuff can help you survive just about anything.  even having your soul ripped out of your body and scattered to the far corners of space-time.”

He had no proof that Gaster's soul had been scattered rather than simply destroyed.  In fact it would have made a lot more sense if the explosion that nearly killed his father truly had ripped his soul to shreds, the essence of his being dissolving away like so much scattered construct dust.  But, no matter how many times he tied to convince himself of the more rational and probably possibility, Sans could never fully believe it.  Gaster's body had returned, its dispersed fragments coming together and reforming on the cavern floor as the melted parody of a monster that now stalked him.  And Sans was willing to bet everything that his soul had met the same fate.  If only it could reform just as easily.  

“Wait, human magic?”  Undyne's yellow eyes darted to Frisk for a fraction of a second.  “I saw something when that guy was playing magic tug-o-war with you.  Like a bright red flash.  Was that this 'human magic' you're talkin' about?”

Sans tensed, his teeth pressed together in a grin so tight it felt like his jaw was going to crack.  He'd known it already, logically speaking.  The surge of heat and power he'd felt upon waking, the red pulse within his own soul, the sensation of something so powerful thrumming just below the surface of his own life force, there was no denying that he'd been exposed to a fresh does of Determination.  Still, knowing that on a technical, intuitive sort of level and hearing about it from someone else were very different things.  “ya,” he managed to say, forcing the word out with a flat, empty parody of his own voice.  “that was it alright.”

Frisk's arms tightened around his waist, their tiny fists clutching the fabric of his shirt.  He thought he heard them whimper, breath hitching softly, but that might have just been his imagination.  Sans didn't look down at them, he just couldn't bring himself to, but he did begin combing his fingers through their hair once more.  

“But, how?” Toriel asked in genuine confusion.  “Monster magic and human magic don't mix.  They can't.  Not without … “  She trailed off, a flash of something painful shining clear and raw in her eyes.  Toriel knew what it took to truly fuse the power of a monster and a human.  She'd seen it and the thing it had turned her only son into.  

“wish i could tell you, but i don't understand it all that well myself.  i know he took magic from living souls and separated it out somehow.  that's what he infused monsters with.  but i don't know how he got it to work right.  not that it actually did work right very often.”  Sans slouched a bit lower into the couch cushions, wishing he could just disappear into them like a lost button and never be seen again.  

“Okay,” Undyne interjected, hijacking the conversation to steer it away from a topic that had clearly upset everyone else in the room.  “So, he's soulless because of shady experiments with human magic that, let's face it, were probably a bad idea from the start.  What I don't get is how we wound up in this mess to begin with.  After all this time, how'd he come back?  And why now?”

Eager to put all thoughts of DT behind him for as long as possible, Sans latched on to the comparatively safer topic.  “i think it had something to do with breaking the barrier.  he first showed up in the cavern that leads to the surface, right where the barrier used to be.”  He suppressed a little shudder at the thought of that dripping black sludge slowly rising up from the darkness, grinning as it stared at him, eyeless and empty.  “even i didn't recognize him then, so he must have been … i dunno … still re-forming, or something.”

“But he didn't have any connection with the barrier.  Did he?”

“not that i know of, but it took a lot of energy to break that thing.”  The energy of seven human souls, to be exact.  More than was theoretically possible for a single being to control.  “maybe, that much power acted as a kind of beacon.  something for all those scattered pieces to latch on to.  and once they were close, they just kinda stuck to each other.”  It wasn't much to go on, a loose theory at best, but it was the only possible explanation that made any sense.  Nothing happens completely by accident.  There's always some factor, however small, that sparks a change.  At least that's what his own experience had taught him.  

Frisk finally released their death grip on his waist, pushing away as they sat up straight.  This time he was sure he heard them whimper as they pressed their face into one baggy blue sleeve.  Sans knew the sound of barely suppressed crying when he heard it.  But why?  What could have made the kid so upset that … ooh.  The barrier.  Frisk had been the one to break it, through means that not even Sans could fully grasp, and now he'd just told them that doing so had caused this whole nightmare.  Well shit.

“hey, don't you go getting carried away kid.  you did a good thing back there, alright?  i wouldn't wanna change a thing about how it all ended up, and neither should you.”

Something wordless passed between them, carried along by carefully chosen words and a veiled hardness in the pinpoint lights burning brightly in his sockets.  Frisk met his gaze, their mouth pressed into a thin, trembling line.  They didn't say a word.  They didn't need to.  

“Sans is right little one,” Toriel said, warm with motherly sweetness.  “Whatever unintended consequences these past few days might have brought with them, you have done nothing wrong.”  She embraced the small human, wrapping them up in her arms.  “If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have hope for a new future.  You fought so hard for all of us.  Now it's our turn.  We will find a way to fix this, and everything will be alright again.”

Frisk nodded, but Sans could still see a glint of something painful in their guilt-ridden gaze.  They buried their face in the soft purple fabric of Toriel's dress, hiding against her like the lost child they truly were, reality warping powers or not.  

“Ya,” said Undyne, her own natural boisterousness making her sound a lot more sure than she actually looked.  “You just leave Gaster to us and we'll send him packing!  We've just gotta figure out how.”

“how'd you get the doc to back off this last time?” Sans asked.  He was genuinely curious about how that whole encounter had played out, minus his own involvement of course.  One way or another, they had managed to stop Gaster and free him from the the soulless man's control.  Sans wasn't sure if he would be able to sense Gaster's presence without the other actively trying to channel his magic, but he doubted that the others would be so calm if that goopy horror show of a monster was still lurking around.  

“While I was keeping you out of trouble, these two teamed up and went after him.”  She slung an arm around Papyrus's shoulders, dragging him into one of her patented affectionate friend noogies.  Sans was glad he'd never been subjected to one of those, they looked like they kind of hurt.  “Good thing too, that slippery bastard was too quick for a solo fighter to hit.  I've never seen anybody dodge that fast.”

Papyrus grinned as he managed to extract himself from his friend's hold.  “Well, we did make a rather formidable team.  I kept him busy so he couldn't dodge and the queen,” he stopped himself with a frankly hilarious looking flinch,  “sorry, I mean former queen, used her fire magic to defeat him.”

Toriel smiled in a bashful sort of way that made it clear she was likely blushing under her thick white fur.  “I wouldn't have been able to do much on my own.  But yes, once we were able to corner him, we did manage to do some damage.  It was strange though, he didn't react like a normal person would.  Perhaps it has something to do with his, umm, 'condition'.  After that, he vanished without a trace.”  She turned her gaze back to Sans, pinning him with tentative hope.  “ Could he have gone back to wherever it is he came from?”

“i … uh, maybe?”  It was possible that Gaster had retreated back to the space beyond space where the parts of his being had been previously scattered.  But, even if that really was where he'd gone, Sans wasn't sure if that was a good thing.  If he'd come back from there once, who's to say he couldn't do it again?  And the thought of someone unbound by the compassion and morality of a soul having free access to both dimensions, well it wasn't good to say the least.  

Undyne crossed her arms and scowled, no doubt thinking along the same lines as he had.  “Call me paranoid, but I don't think we've seen the last of that freak.  No offense.”

“none taken.”

“Wait a second,” Papyrus said suddenly, gesturing with his hands like he sometimes did when a new idea had him all excited.  “Dad, I mean Gaster, lost his soul in the accident.  Sans, you said it was scattered the same way his body was.  So, it still exists in some form, right?”

Sans hunched his shoulders, shrinking down a bit as if that would let him go unnoticed and avoid the direction he suspected this conversation was headed in.  “well, i mean … theoretically.”

“If his soul really is out there somewhere, then … ”  Papyrus turned towards him, light sparking in his eye sockets.  “Brother, do you think his soul might come back the same way his body did?”

“pap … “  Sans felt torn.  He wanted to give his brother hope, wanted it more than anything, but in this case, that kind of hope might do more harm than good.  The chances of Gaster coming back at all had been astronomical, but his soul somehow surviving and managing to come back too?  He just didn't see how it was possible.  “it's not that easy.  his body existed without his soul before then, so reforming like that wasn't a problem.  but a soul with no body?”  

“So we'll get something that can keep his soul stable until we figure out a way to fix him.  Something like the containment units used to hold human souls.”  Papyrus flinched at his own words, glancing over at where Frisk sat curled up in Toriel's arms.  “I'm sorry friend Frisk, I didn't mean to bring that up so carelessly.”

Toriel looked up at him, all attempts at burying her own sadness in order to comfort him proving useless.  “Papyrus, just because something works on a human doesn't mean it's going to work on a monster.  A boss monster maybe, if we were incredibly lucky and worked very fast, but other than that?  Monster souls don't last long after death, you know that.”  

“But this is a special case!  He had human magic, even before the accident.  Maybe he's used enough of it that his soul will be able to survive, so long as we act quickly.  The pieces of it have lasted this long wherever they are, right Sans?”

“maybe.  there was never a way to know for sure.”  All he'd had were theories.  Hunches.  The nagging feeling that some part of their father had survived despite the odds.  He couldn't explain it, he simply believed that it was true.  And for Sans, who didn't believe in much of anything anymore, that really meant something.  But belief hadn't been enough to change the grim reality he'd found himself in before, and he doubted it would be now.  “pap, just … don't get your hopes up.  okay?  i already tried everything i could to bring him back and nothing worked.”

“That's just because you were trying alone.  You don't have to do that anymore Sans.  We can all remember now, so we can help you.”  Papyrus crossed the gap between them in two long strides and grasped his brother's hands tightly in his own.  “Together we can do this.”

“And in the meantime, if mister goopy horror shows his melty face here again, queen Toriel and I will kick his ass!”  Undyne punched at the air enthusiastically, as if violently dispersing some phantom image of the man in question.  “He may be a part of your dad and all, but after the shit he pulled, I don't think we should take any chances letting him get close.”

“Agreed,” Papyrus said cheerily, though his expression softened with worry a moment later.  “Please do try not to kill him though.”

Sans felt something intangible constrict inside him.  The two of them were so excited.  So hopeful.  Even Toriel looked like the self-imposed burden she carried was just a little bit lighter than it had been.  But Sans couldn't hope the way they did.  They didn't understand that when he said he'd tried to bring Gaster back, he meant he'd tried everything.  The machine couldn't be fixed, no matter how many endless days he spent working on it as the flow of time skipped and sputtered around him, and he knew of no other way to even attempt to retrieve what remained of his father from the void beyond their reality.  It was hopeless.  But, as he looked at the smiling faces around him, he couldn't bring himself to tell them that.  Let them have their hope, he decided.  Hell, maybe they'd be able to see something he couldn't.  After all, things had changed.  Now they had the convergence point that the breaking of the barrier had created.  Maybe between that and a few more people working on the problem, he'd finally find the breakthrough that had alluded him for so long.  Against his better judgment, Sans started to hope too.  

“okay.  why not.  let's give it a try.”

Undyne cackled with something akin to manic glee.  “Alright!  Mission 'Soul Retrieval' is go!  What do we do first?”

A dark shape slithered through empty, echoing halls.  It slid along the worn stone floor like oil, the contours of its form shifting and changing as it moved.  It wasn't used to being a solid thing anymore.  The laws of nature were so limiting.  

It slunk past open doors and flower strewn chambers, searching for something few others would ever see.  There.  A spot of shimmering energy that seemed to skip and vanish if looked at directly.  A weak point in the fabric of reality.  The thing grinned to itself as it darted forwards and vanished from the lonely halls.  For a moment, there was only darkness, but it wasn't bothered by the endless black that clawed and called as it sped onwards.  Once it had been unable to refuse that call, but not anymore.  It found another spot of light, hazy in the endless night of this other reality, and passed through it only to emerge in a watery cavern.  Crystals gleamed overhead.  Tall, blue flowers bloomed nearby.  The thing let out a watery gurgle of giddy excitement.  It was free!  Finally it was really free.  And it ...

… no, not 'it' …

… 'he'.  

A different sort of awareness flickered to life in his formerly scattered mind.  He was a man.  Or, he had been once.  Then, he'd become something else.  Consciousness without form.  Essence without substance.  He had been everywhere and nowhere.  Everything and nothing.  Silly things like time and space didn't matter to him anymore.  He'd become unbound from the rules of reality, but that ultimate freedom brought with it the ultimate price.  He'd been condemned to see, hear, and know everything that went on in the underground, but to always remain apart from it.  Out of sync.  Out of phase.  Separate.  Lost.  Forgotten.  The world he'd left behind had gone on as if he'd never existed at all.  

He'd had a name once, before all traces of his existence had been wiped away from reality and memory.  What was it?  Who had he been?  The twisting trail of his thoughts led him through ghosts of his own memory.  Scattered words.  Fleeting glimpses.  There had been someone who'd remembered him … hadn't there?  One person who, even if they didn't recall everything, at least had known he'd existed.  Someone who felt the hole his absence left in reality.  He recalled the face that had stared at him in numb horror as he fought his way back into reality, the lost pieces of his being coming together bit by bit and bringing his fragmented awareness with them.  There was something familiar there.   They were different, older, perhaps, than the last time he'd truly seen them, but the eyes … those had not changed at all.  

He gazed down at the shifting, liquid mass of his body.  No, this wasn't right.  He couldn't quite recall what he'd looked like before, but he knew this wasn't it.  He had been tall once, hadn't he?  He at least remembered this place and knew he should be seeing it from much higher up.  His shifting, inky darkness stretched itself to accommodate this newly desired perspective.  Yes, this felt right.  Encouraged by the progress, he attempted something else.  Legs felt right as well, he was almost certain he'd had two of them.  Arms?  Yes, definitely.  Four of them?  No, no, that wasn't right, just two.  But, hands.  Yes, he'd had hands.  Liquid shadow dripped away, revealing pale white blobs that slowly morphed and shifted as a clear picture began to take shape in his mind.  Digits separated, bent, and stretched.  Holes opened up in his palms.  Slowly he reached up to touch his face, feeling smooth curves marred by arching cracks that opened up from hollow, drooping eye sockets.  He'd been a man once.  

From somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint echoes of someone talking.  Fear put an abrupt end to his reflections, and he dashed into the shadows.  There were two of them, young by the sound of it, talking excitedly to one another at the far end of the cave this chamber was connected to.  What would happen if they saw him?  Would they scream?  Would they attack him like the familiar one had?  He needed to defend himself.  

He sought out that spark of magic that comes so naturally to all monsters, the instinct to tap into his own power still strong despite his lingering confusion, but found nothing.  Where a soul once beat, there was only an empty hollowness in the center of his being.  That should have been surprising to him, but it wasn't.  He felt as if he'd lost that long ago.  Still, there should have been something.  An energy that was alive but not in the way souls were.  A pitch and harmony that resonated in him.  Where was it?  

The man who was not quite a man called to the magic that would defend him.  He had no soul to sing with, no natural magic to harmonize, but he had something else.  He'd only just found his way back to this reality, and he was determined to stay there.  

----

Papyrus could hardly believe what he was seeing.  The surface world was full of wonders.  He used to imagine what it might be like above the mountain, how vast the world up there might be, but even his wildest dreams hadn't prepared him for the sheer size of it.  It seemed to go on forever, an endless sprawl of trees and rock and even other mountains.  Other mountains!  Papyrus wondered if there were cities beneath them too.  

He'd never been somewhere without a ceiling before.  The sky was so high up, how did surface dwellers not feel like they were about to float away?  Ooh but it was beautiful.  The sky, the clouds, and especially the sun.  It didn't look at all like it did in his old storybooks, but that was okay.  He liked this real one even better!  It was so big and warm, and it made such lovely colors glow and fade across the sky.  He could have watched it for hours, if only there weren't so many other amazing things to see.  

Papyrus made his way through a forest that he thought might be even bigger than the one surrounding Snowdin.  It was strange to see trees without snow.  They looked so … green.  And tall.  And ... those weren't needles on them at all!  Were they even really trees?  He'd been so busy trying to figure out if it was the needles or the bark that made a tree a tree that he nearly missed the sounds of people nearby.  No, not just people.  Humans!  An odd mixture of excitement and fear raced through him.  Papyrus wasn't sure what to do.  He'd come looking for them, but now that they were close he couldn't help but remember all those stories he'd been told about how dangerous and powerful humans were.  'They aren't all like that,' he reminded himself with a confidence he wasn't quite sure if he felt or not, 'Frisk isn't like that.'  But Papyrus still approached with caution and hid behind a thick cluster of trees.  Just to be safe.  

The humans were bigger than he'd imagined them to be.  At least one of them was even taller than himself.  Somehow he'd thought they would be small, like Frisk, even though he knew now that Frisk was only a child.  They were gathered in a circle around a roaring fire.  It seemed an awfully dangerous place to be, since Papyrus sincerely doubted that blaze was being generated by safe, clean fire magic due to the amount of dark smoke rising from it, but the humans clearly weren't bothered.  They were talking and laughing with one another.  Some of them sang along with loud music which blared from the open door of a nearby car.  A real car!  He'd always dreamed of seeing one.  It was red and everything.  

“There you are!”  Papyrus let out an undignified little squeak of surprise as Undyne plowed through the underbrush behind him.  She chuckled as she slung an arm around his shoulders.  “Thought you'd run off and leave the rest of us behind, huh?”

He looked up sheepishly, only just realizing that in his enthusiasm he'd run off alone.  It wasn't that he'd meant to leave them out, somehow he'd just assumed that the others would be right behind him.  “Ooh, I suppose I did do that … but, I was just so excited to meet our new human friends!”

“Well it looks like you found some.”  

Despite her apparent easy confidence, Undyne didn't get any closer to the humans either.  They watched with guarded smiles, too excited to retreat but too anxious to approach.  Papyrus couldn't make out what the humans were saying, they were much too far away, but their loud laughter was unmistakable.  They were having such a good time with one another.  Surely they had to be good friends, and such friendly people would be happy to be friends with them as well.  R-right?

“Ooh goodness, I'm so nervous,” Toriel said as she and Frisk made their way closer.  The towering boss monster had to crouch too avoid low lying tree limbs.  Somewhere behind her, Alphys was trying to help Asgore get his horns untangled from a stray branch with minimal success.  

Both Papyrus and Undyne jumped a bit at their sudden arrival, though they tried to hide it behind wide, beaming grins.  “You're not the only one,” the warrior said with a chuckle as she patted Papyrus on the back so hard that he nearly toppled over.  “This guy was back here shakin' in his boots.”

“I-I was not.  THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER INTIMIDATED WHEN IT COMES TO NEW FRIENDS!  I … simply … was waiting for you!”  It was a weak protest, he knew that, but Undyne's teasing words had no actual bite behind them anyway.  They were all nervous, and they all knew it.  His gaze darted towards the humans again, but it looked like they hadn't heard his unintentional shouting.  “It would be wrong of me to exclude you all from such an important moment.”

Toriel gave him a patient, knowing sort of smile.  “That's very considerate of you Papyrus.  But, perhaps we should take this slow, don't you think?”

“Y-yes!” he managed, his relief a bit more obvious than he would have liked.  “Yes that sounds like a very good idea.  Meeting such awesome individuals as ourselves could be a bit overwhelming, and we wouldn't want that.”

“sure wouldn't,” Sans said, perfectly calm despite the fact that he hadn't been there a moment ago.

Papyrus wasn't all that surprised by his brother's sudden appearance.  He was used to Sans showing up when he liked, where he liked, without much concern for the normal, natural order of things.  It was just part of what made the other skeleton who he was, like his deliberately awful puns and his infuriating habit of leaving his socks lying around.  However, if the reactions of his companions was any indication, it seemed that he and Frisk were the only ones used to these unexpected appearances.

“What the,” Undyne yelped as she jumped away, staring down in disbelief at the short skeleton that now stood beside her.  “Where did you come from?!”

Sans didn't answer her question.  Papyrus didn't either.  His brother's odd habits weren't nearly as interesting as the humans laughing and singing nearby.  “Ooh there you are brother!  You almost missed the big introduction.   Though I suppose now we are looking at more of a small introduction instead.”

“well that does sound more my style.”

Papyrus waited for the pun that should have followed a setup like that, but it never came.  Now that was odd.  He'd practically handed his sibling the perfect prompt and everything.  “Brother, are you feeling alright?”

“huh?”  Sans blinked up at him as if waking from a dream.  “ooh, ya, never better.”

Papyrus knew a lie when he heard one.  Though, to be fair, that one was particularly obvious.  He also knew that he should have been irritated by his brother's unflinching willingness to lie to his face, but really he wasn't.  Sans used those little white lies to protect him, though Papyrus did not truly want protection from whatever darkness his brother held, and he was guilty of doing much the same in return.  “You know … if you're also feeling a bit … overwhelmed … that's alright.”

For just a moment, the small skeleton's eye lights flickered, betraying an unease that was otherwise hidden from view.  Then his fixed grin softened into an easy, effortless smile and the moment was gone.  “well maybe i'm a bit out of my depth,” he said with a soft chuckle, “but hey, we all are.”

Papyrus furrowed his eyebrow ridges and groaned at the obvious joke, but the theatrics were muted compared to his normal exuberance.  He couldn't quite shake his own worries, both for the other skeleton and for the situation they had found themselves in.  They truly were out of their depth, cringe worthy word play aside.  Everything about this was new, uncharted territory.  If they made a mistake, would the humans not trust them?  Would they be sent back and re-sealed underground?  Papyrus couldn't bear the thought of that, not now that he knew what he'd been missing.  How had the king and queen been able to stand it, living down there in the dark and all the while knowing how amazing the light truly was?  

Blue light danced at the edge of his vision.  Sans's magic.  He'd know that shade anywhere, though the silent hum of it didn't quite feel right.  Ooh of all the times for his brother to decide to stop being lazy and take charge for once.  “Really now Sans, this isn't the time for … ” he trailed off when he realized that the light wasn't just coming from his brother.  A fierce glow that matched the bright blue in the small skeleton's eye was shining from somewhere above him, accompanied by a chorus of familiar, scraping hisses.  

A hand shot out and grasped his arm tight, dragging him away before he could even think of what to say, and Papyrus found his view blocked by Undyne's flowing red hair.  “What are those things?!” she exclaimed as she summoned one of her spears, bluegreen magic shaping itself into a deadly weapon that flashed and sparked in her hands.  A haze of green hung in the air, ready to form into a near-unbreakable shield at a moment's notice.  

“An attack.  Well, sort of.”  Papyrus edged around the wary warrior, putting himself between her and the summoned creatures that hovered and snarled just above his head.  Light danced in the sharp maws of three blaster skulls, their eye sockets blazing with fearsome power.  Even after all this time, they could still make him nervous when they growled like that, so it came as no surprise to him that the others were more than startled by them.  Toriel stared down the clicking, hissing beasts, her raised hands wreathed in flame, a steely, determined look nearly masking her fear.  She'd pulled Frisk away, much like Undyne had for him, and the small human was practically cowering behind her.  They pressed their face against her long robe, as if that alone could hide them from the blaster's sight.  Nearby, Alphys had ducked behind Asgore, the pair of them watching with matched expressions of captivated horror.  No matter how unprecedented the situation, this was just unacceptable.  Papyrus squared his shoulders and looked up at the floating constructs with a stern stare.  “Go back where you came from.  There's nothing for you to fight here and you're scaring our friends.  Go on.  Shoo.”

He waved a hand dismissively, a hazy wisp of his own deep blue magic trailing after the gesture, hoping that his commands would be enough to send the creatures on their way even though he had not been the one to summon them.  It wasn't.  They still clicked and hissed, snapping at nothing as their glowing eyes darted from place to place.  One of them let out an almost plaintive whine, pale sparks shimmering behind its teeth.  

For what felt like the hundredth time, Papyrus wished he was better at controlling these creatures.  Ooh the blasters listened to him if he called them in battle, but making them come to him and defend him from dangerous opponents was one thing.  Drawing their attention and loyalty away from his brother?  Now that was nearly impossible.  Their shared attack always deferred to Sans.  They drew most of their strength from the older skeleton's magic and always responded to him with hardly any effort on his part.  Most of the time, things like that didn't matter much because Sans didn't like to fight, wouldn't have been able to do so safely with most other monsters even if he'd wanted to, and would actively avoid any sort of situation that might lead to a battle.  But when he was like this …

Papyrus turned his attention away from the distressed magical beasts.  Sans had his head down, hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides.  Blue magic flashed around those small hands, leaping and dancing like flame.  It burned in his good eye, flickering with flashes of yellow, while the other remained wide, dark, and sightless.  This wasn't right, not a single part of it.  

Green energy pressed on them as Undyne inched closer.  “Sans, this isn't funny.  Get rid of these things or I swear I'll dust them myself.”

“NO!” Papyrus yelled as a sudden fear gripped his soul.  It wasn't unheard of for monsters to forcibly banish one another's attacks even outside of a battle or training scenario, but it wasn't exactly common either.  If you weren't careful, destroying a magical construct could hurt the summoner.  Even with Undyne's pinpoint precision, there was still some inherent risk involved.  And putting aside the potential risk to Sans, something which Papyrus found very hard to look past, what would it do to the blasters?  Construct or not, these were thinking creatures.  They had awareness.  The blasters were alive in their own way.  Would one of Undyne's spears dissipate them, sending them back to the place all magical constructs go when their summoners dismiss them, or would an attack like that kill them?  “You can't.  This isn't their fault, they're only trying to protect us.”  

“From what?!” the warrior yelled as she flung out a hand, her spear cutting a flashing arc through the air.  “There's nothing here!”

Leaves rustled and grass crunched as Asgore pushed a heavy branch aside in a attempt to get close enough to intervene.  “Everyone please calm down.  I'm sure we can sort all this out.”  

For a long moment, there was only tense silence.  That was when Papyrus realized that it shouldn't have been silent at all.  The distant sounds of talking had gone quiet.  Even the blaring music was gone now.  He thought he could hear worried murmurs from beyond the trees, but he wasn't sure.  One thing was clear though; the humans were aware of them now.  Would they come investigate?  And if they did, would the blasters see them as a threat and fire?  Papyrus stood in front of the hissing creatures hovering protectively over Sans, placing himself between them and the distant clearing where the humans had been.  “Please brother, you have to stop this.”

“i can't,” came the reply, oddly raspy and faint.

“I promise nothing bad is going to happen to us.  Just please, send them away.”

“papyrus, i … “  The smaller skeleton's skull turned towards him, tilted back and listing to the side like a poorly strung puppet.  One eyelight flickered madly, blown into a wide ring the center of which was dark and hollow.  His teeth were grit in a pained, too sharp smile that held no hint of his usual relaxed cheer.  Though Sans was looking right at him, it was clear that he didn't truly see him.  He wasn't really there.  “i  c a n ' t.”

It had been so long since Papyrus had seen that look on his brother's face.  He knew the nightmares weren't gone.  Sometimes he still heard Sans cry out in the night, the sound often accompanied by panicked hissing or low growls.   On those nights, he wanted nothing more than to burst into his sibling's room and do whatever it took to wake him.  Unfortunately that would have involved kicking down his door, and that was a line he simply could not cross.  Sans had made the choice to lock his door, to keep Papyrus out on those long nights and stubbornly pretend like everything was fine the next morning no matter how worn and weary he looked as he practically dragged himself down the stairs.  And Papyrus went along with it.  He played the part as well as he could, hiding the truth of his concern beneath exaggerated gestures and equally stubborn nagging.  It was all he could think of to do in order to show his brother that he did care, that he was and would always be there, without forcing Sans to admit to something he wasn't ready to face.  Now, it was as if his nightmares had chased after him, breaking into the real world, and Papyrus had to wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.  

“I don't think he's the one doing this,” he muttered in his stunned stupor.  

“But it's his magic!” Undyne exclaimed.  He didn't have to see the look on her face to know she didn't believe him.

“Y-yes, but … Sans wouldn't do this.”  Papyrus bent down and wrapped his arms around the smaller skeleton, shielding him from the others much the same way he'd shielded the rest of the world from the terrible power of the blasters.  Sans rattled and shook against him.  “He doesn't want to do this.”

As if sensing a change in the energy that had called them forth, the blasters began rattling as well.  They let out whines and clicks, spitting sparks as they warred with whatever mixed signals were keeping them there.  

“Then who is doing it?” Asgore asked, patient and mild where anyone else, Papyrus included, would be desperate for answers.  

“I … I'm not sure.”  Even though he'd been the one to say it, Papyrus didn't know how such a thing could happen.  An outside force controlling another monster's magic, he'd never even heard of such a power.  Only ghosts could take control of another body, and only if they had decided to become corporeal.  Could such a thing even work if there was another soul in that body to begin with?  Even if it could, that clearly wasn't the case with Sans.  They would have noticed a ghost amongst them.  At the very least, they would be able to sense the presence of another magical signature.  But there was no magic signature in Sans other than his own.  The song of that magic was oddly discordant, off in a way Papyrus couldn't quite place, but it was still him.  And yet, he wasn't in complete control of his actions.  It shouldn't have been possible, but it had to be true.  For Sans to be doing this on his own and acting this way willingly, that was just unthinkable.  

“Sans, you must tell us who's behind all this.”  There had to be someone else pulling the strings, even if he didn't understand how.  It couldn't just be that his brother had snapped and lost his mind at the sight of the humans.  He didn't want to believe something like that.  There had to be someone else.  “Brother, please.”

“gaster,” Sans said at last, forcing the whispered word out through clenched teeth.  

Papyrus knew that name.  It conjured up lost images of a blurred face slowly coming into focus.  A voice he'd forgotten somehow rang clear once more.  Suddenly, a puzzle piece that he'd been missing for years had slid into place.  Gaster.  A name that carried with it so much happiness, sorrow, and dread.  And one he'd heard before, he was sure of that, only it had never seemed to matter then.  It was just a name, something meaningless and easily forgotten, or it had been then.  Now it was more than that.  It was a person.  But who?  The father he'd lost … or the stranger he'd run from?  The two ideas clashed and merged in his mind, painting a picture too unbelievable to be true.  

The flickering light of his brother's eye flashed bright for an instant and then went dark, flaring out like a breaking bulb.  Sans gasped, his chest heaving.  His legs gave out on him, and Papyrus was quick to ease him down until they were both kneeling together on the ground.  The hypnotic commands that had been controlling them now gone, the blasters whined their high pitched distress call.  One by one, they drifted down to settle on the ground around them, pressing their muzzles against the brothers like frightened puppies looking for comfort.  Sans slowly placed a shaking hand on the nearest construct, resting his palm against the top of its skull in a gesture just as comforting to him as it was to the blaster.  

“Is he alright?” Toriel asked worriedly as she approached, hints of healing magic already sparkling at her fingertips.

The blasters whipped around at the sound of her voice, hissing in her direction as they hurried to defend their masters.  Only Sans's restraining hand and Papyrus's quick actions stopped them from rushing forward to snap at her.  He doubted that they would have truly sought to do her harm, they would have simply charged a powerful magic blast if they'd wanted to do something like that, but he still didn't want them threatening anyone.

“It's alright,” the younger skeleton muttered as he scratched the side of the creature's long jaws the way he knew they liked, “she's a friend.  They're all friends.”

“Okay, I don't know about you guys, but I need some answers.”  Undyne pointed her spear towards the blasters, not even flinching as one of them snarled at her in response.  “What are those things anyway?  And who's this Gaster person?”

“Um, Undyne?” Alphs stammered, reaching out as if to grasp the taller woman's arm but pulling her hand back at the last moment.  “M-maybe we shouldn't … “

Papyrus couldn't help but tune out their voices as the two women spoke to one another, his attention drawn back to his brother.  Sans tried to pull away from him, shifting his shoulders in the way he knew would allow him to slip free of his taller sibling's grasp.  Bright blue flickered in his eye socket once more, not the solid ring of blazing power that had been there before but the subtle, easily missed spark that said he was gathering his energy.  The air around him tingled with magic and the faintly clean sharpness of ozone.  Any moment now, he would be gone, teleported away to some distant, shadowy corner where he could hide from the prying eyes of the monsters around him.