Firhaur disapproved of the war.

Now, I'm not saying I think the war was a good thing. War is horrible, always horrible. It tears apart families and destroys lives. I cannot describe the pain it causes.

But that does not mean I did not think the war was necessary. That does not mean I was not filled with pride at the news of every monster victory, and a burning anger and hatred at every monster death. I saw human blood as being deserving of being spilled, that it was best not in human veins, but watering the ground.

To Firhaur, though, blood was dust and dust was blood. To him, all lives were lives, and the war was worth none of them. News of every victory we received- whether monster or human victory- was only met with a deep sorrow.

Firhaur was a good man. I have never met his equal.

He said nothing, of course. He supported the monsters to the last, was loyal to our kind. But he still believed this duststorm- and this bloodbath- was unnecessary.

At first I didn't realize this. It was a while before I figured out his disapproval.

Once I had recovered enough from my beating to return to the lab, I set to work immediately. No longer was my mind on flight, now I intended to fight.

And if the humans could use Magic weaponry, why couldn't monsters? But obviously, monster weapons had to be better than human weapons.

So instead of staffs, I made a rune-carved crossbow, that fired off bolts of raw Magic when utilized by a monster. It took months to finish, months in which the war only escalated. Firhaur knew of my work, but when I finally finished it, and showed it to him...

He got a funny look in his eyes.

"It's very clever." He had a strange tone in his voice. "I can pass it on to King Relgore, and if he approves it, I'll set a team on mass producing it."

At first, I was elated. There was a good chance of my invention being accepted, being used, making a difference. And I could go on to design more weapons.

But no. Firhaur had other plans. He assigned me a specific task.

He wanted me to design a sort of suspension tank, something that could hold a critically wounded monster-- or human-- for an extended period of time until their wounds could be properly treated. It was the polar opposite of what I had wanted to design- weapons killed, and this saved.

But Firhaur had asked me to take on this task, so I reasoned to myself that it would be saving monster lives. Later, these suspension tanks would be quite important, as not only would my own life be put in one, but they were the birthplace of my sons.

But, that is later.

For now, I was still designing them.

Well. I worked on it for several months. Perfected the design. Firhaur had several made, but kept me working on them.

I didn't want to work on them, though, and besides, I thought I had made them perfectly!

So I approached Firhaur about the issue.

He kept avoiding the point, and I kept dragging it back in front of him.

"Why," I eventually roared in Hands, "will you not let me help with the war?!"

He rounded on me, a strange look in his amethyst eyes. "Because I do not want you to get hurt, Gaster!"

I paused, surprised. That had not been the answer I had been expecting.

Firhaur continued, stepping forward to set his hands on my shoulders. "Gaster, in the last two years that you've been here, I've come to think of you almost like a brother. Like my little brother whom I never had. I care about you, Gaster, and I want to protect you from this war. Because it's far too easy to go from making weapons to using weapons. Far too easy to have blood on your hands, and that's an impossible thing to forget, an irreparable damage to your Soul. I just-... You're my little brother, and I want to keep you safe."

I'm pretty sure I stood there for a good minute or two, unable to speak. I was touched, genuinely moved that Firhaur would think so much of me.

And I realized something, something that would change my life.

Slowly, I looked up at Firhaur, met his eyes, a tentative smile twitching at my jaw. "And-... and you're my big brother, Firhaur. I look up to you. I wanna be like you, I want to do what you do. I want to make a difference in the world, for all of monsterkind, like you. I respect you more than anyone else, Firhaur, and I want your respect me, too. Because you're my brother, and I look up to you. So... So if you want me to stay safe like this, to not make weapons... then I'll do it."

Annoying Dog, was I sappy. I'm not even going to try to defend myself here, except to say that I meant every word of it.

Because it was true. I respected Firhaur like a brother. I looked up to him like a brother.

I loved him like a brother.

In some ways, this realization made the inevitable all that much worse.

But, at the same time... I would not have it any other way.

From that day all the way to the end, Firhaur and I were brothers in all but Magic.

And I stuck to my word. Despite my desire to bring down humanity, I didn't make weapons. I worked on improving the suspension tanks (they were not, in fact, perfect, field testing found. There were some major flaws that needed to be fixed). I put time into studying monster physiology and Magiology so I could create better medical equipment. I came up with some unorthodox but efficient healing techniques that, as many as fifteen times, were actively sought out by wounded monsters. I made rune-covered bandages that could cut a monster's healing time in as much as half.

And when Firhaur looked at me, I could see the pride in his eyes, and that was enough to convince me I was doing the right thing.

After that day, Firhaur and I also openly referred to each other as brothers, and, despite his status as Royal Scientist and mine as Assistant to the Royal Scientist, we saw each other as equals. There was never any animosity between us. I trusted Firhaur with everything, and he never expected more of me than I could give.

Looking back on it, I think that our bond was nearly as strong as my sons' would be.

And, knowing of my desire to make a difference, Firhaur supported me in everything I did. Whenever I would finish work on something, he would already be finding something more for me to turn my attention to. He never asked me to do things I couldn't, but he was always challenging me to do harder things, better. Whenever we found my limit had been met, he helped me to push my limits farther.

We were most definitely brothers, no matter how different we were in form, how unrelated in family.

We were brothers, brothers to the end.

... I miss Firhaur.

... But.

But the time for sorrow is not now. We have a while yet before that arrives. So let's not dwell on that, for, despite the war, these were good times, and, if anything, Firhaur would want me to remember him with joy instead of misery for as much as possible.

So. No sorrow. Not yet.

It was some several months that I received a visitor. Firhaur and I were in my lab. He was helping me through some tricky points in Magic theory.

I believe there was a knock on the door, but it went unnoticed. So did the feminine voice calling out to us.

And then there was a pounding on the door, and Dagiel was shouting "OPEN THE DOOR, GASTER, YA LITTLE SCAMP!"

Having recently acquired and become proficient in the use of Blue Magic, I used said Magic to open the door, my eyes flaring purple for half a second. Standing in the doorway were Dagiel and Princess Toriel. Dagiel was showing off his sharklike teeth in a wide grin; he used the nickname 'scamp' for me often and with affection- if he didn't like people, he usually just called them idiots.

Princess Toriel looked vaguely amused. When she saw me, her muzzle twitches in a smile. "So, our clothesless friend has made quite the name for himself, hm?"

I chuckled a little. "So I have."

Her smile widened a little. "Oh! And you can speak Common now, too!"

"Yes. That is Firhaur's fault."

"Fault? I would think that you would thank Dr. Wyngblaise for that."

Firhaur laughed. "No, definitely my fault. Because now when he starts screaming insults at people, they can actually understand what he's saying, and that makes them mad!"

Both Toriel and Dagiel laughed at that. It was true, though. I was in the process of getting myself back into the habit of cussing people out in Hands.

After a few more small-talk exchanges (mostly made by Firhaur, as small talk never has been nor ever will be my specialty) Princess Toriel said "Dr. Gaster, actually, I have come here to ask for your assistance."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I have heard that you have exemplary healing skills, beyond ordinary healing Magic, and I have seen some of your inventions. My husband was recently wounded in battle, and he refuses to see a physician, under the premise that there are people who need help more than he."

I thought on that for a moment. She was clearly pointing out the fact that I had done things that exceeded normal healing Magic, so that probably meant whatever had happened was more severe than healing Magic could handle. And she had not actually asked for anything, but it was obvious what she wanted done.

"... Your highness." I said slowly. "You are asking me to come heal Prince Asgore...?"

She nodded.

I looked up at Firhaur. He was grinning as he gave me a slight nod.

I looked back at Princess Toriel. "Very well. I shall arrive at the castle within several hours, as soon as I've gotten some things ready."

§

A/N

Gotta be honest, a lot of this chapter was totally impromptu, but I really like how it turned out.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Votes and Comments are my Favorite Things, and every notification I get makes my day!