Before he was even fully conscious, Sans knew that he hurt. A lot. Just the slight movement he made as he woke was enough to send all of his bones screaming.

With a grimace, he exhaled and slowly opened his eyes, the room coming into focus. And it...wasn't his. He half-bolted up, stopped by a wave of pain. Where was he? How long had he been asleep?

"Pap..." he called hoarsely, pushing past the aches to try and get out of the bed, but his body just wasn't having it. He toppled onto the floor in a heap of sheets and bones, crying out in pain and unable to even push himself up.

Almost immediately after falling down, he heard frenzied footsteps, and the door banged open.

"My god, Sans!"

All at once, another wave of pain hit Sans as he felt himself be scooped up and set back on the bed. He squinted his sockets open, taking deep breaths to counteract the waves of pain still hitting him.

"G-Ga—"

"Hush. You are fine." Gaster very gently adjusted the sheets and blankets over him. "Though you should not be awake yet, much less trying to get up. That is my mistake."

Sans shut his eyes again as his breathing evened. Finally, once he was able to, he peeked his sockets open and asked, "Where'm I?"

Gaster's hands fluttered—not a word, just him trying to think. "Er, my house. My apologies, but I did not know where you live." He looked over Sans for a moment. "But I will explain later. I will be back. Er, please do not try to move again." He quickly turned and exited the room. Sans let out another breath and grimaced as he settled back against the pillows. Gaster definitely didn't have to worry about him running away.

Eventually, the scientist returned, a steaming mug in his hand. He very carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

"Just another moment," he said, swirling the cup. Sans watched him with half-shut eyes.

"How long've I been 'sleep?"

"About twelve hours. Not nearly long enough for you to recuperate."

Sans' sockets went wide and he half-sat up. "Twelve hours?! But Papyrus..."

"Sans, do not move so much," Gaster scolded gently. He gave the mug one last swirl. "I found Papyrus while you were asleep and let him know you were, er..." His free hand waved, but Sans couldn't even begin to try translating the vague motion. "...well, I said you were...recuperating, I think, is the word, here after an incident at the lab. He is fine, if worried." He smiled. "You are fortunate to have such a caring brother. Now, I will need you to drink this."

"Whuh is it?"

"Something to help you sleep a little longer." Gaster tipped the mug against Sans' teeth, and a warm, thick liquid poured into his mouth. Despite the pain and grogginess, Sans still made a face at the awful medicine-taste, but the moment he finished, he felt his eyelids drooping. He relaxed against the pillows, vaguely aware of a fluttering hand just barely brushing against his browbone.

"I will explain more later," Gaster murmured just as Sans dropped back into unconsciousness.

~

The next time he woke up, he only had a moment of panic before remembering where he was. He sighed and settled back into the bed; the pain wasn't quite so bad this time around, but he still wasn't about to get up and start dancing about. Instead, he looked around. Like the rest of Gaster's house, this room seemed pretty bare—a dusty dresser and the bed were the only furniture, and there weren't even curtains on the one window. Then again, Sans really wasn't one to judge (he couldn't help his little laugh as he thought that); half the time he couldn't be bothered to put the sheets on his own bed.

He looked up as he heard a brisk knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened, and once again Gaster stepped in, this time with a tray in hand. He smiled a bit as he looked over Sans.

"You are looking much better this time around; I am afraid my medical experience is...er, rusted?" He set the tray down on the dresser, opening a jar and scooping something into a steaming mug.

"Rusty. What's that?"

"Honey...a bit of a rarity down here, but it has several health benefits attached to it." He smiled at Sans. "And it goes splendidly with golden flower tea. How are you feeling, Sans?"

"Sansational," he grunted, sinking back into the pillows.

"Evidently not in much pain, then. I will let your brother know he can come up."

Sans perked up. "Papyrus is here?"

Gaster chuckled slightly as he stirred the honey into mug. "He arrived soon after you went back to sleep, and he insisted on waiting outside until you could see him." At Sans' look of alarm, he added, "I did not leave him out there; he is downstairs."

Sans relaxed and chuckled. "That sounds like him. He did the same thing to Undyne, just waited outside her house all night to convince her to let him into the Royal Guard."

Gaster arched a browridge as he handed Sans the mug. "Oh? Perhaps Determination is hereditary..."

"Don't you even..."

Gaster chuckled. "I would never, do not worry. All my tests are done on volunteers...provided they are living, obviously." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Though, speaking of, we did have one success with the experiment, at least."

"Yeah?"

"You survived."

"Heh, guess that's pretty good." Sans' browbone furrowed as he sipped at the tea. "So, uh, how will we know whether it worked or not?"

Gaster shrugged. "We will have to test it. But not until you are recovered; as of right now, I would not want you to risk the exertion."

"God, no." Sans couldn't even imagine anything close to fighting right now. Really, he wanted to sleep for another ten days or so, but Papyrus was waiting. He looked down at the mug—probably best to finish this before seeing his brother. Drinks usually ended up on walls after Papyrus' greetings. "Hey, so...you're a medical doctor, too? I never figured you for one."

One of Gaster's cheekbones pulled up in a strange grimace. "Well, technically I am not. Monsters tend to recover from sickness with ease—there was a scare when Asgore was accidentally poisoned, but—"

"What?!"

"Be careful, Sans!" Gaster held up a hand to stop the cup from tipping over. "You have never heard that story? His children—certainly you know their story—made him a buttercup pie. Buttercups are quite toxic when eaten. The queen had done fairly well with taking care of him—she was quite the healer—and I had suggested some treatments if his condition worsened, but it did not." Gaster's face shifted, as if he had tasted something bitter. "Humans, however, do not fare as well with sickness. The queen's methods were not as effective with their child, and I was called in."

"Really? I'm...uh, kind of surprised you went with it."

Gaster's face was grim as he looked down at his hands. "You do not have a choice when the King begs for help."

"So you didn't want to."

"You know my feelings toward humans, Sans. And this one..." Gaster sucked in a breath, then quickly got to his feet. "Well. It is not important."

Sans groaned. "You can't say something like that and leave me hanging."

Gaster looked back down at Sans for a moment. "Perhaps later." He gave him a small smile. "But for now, I think your brother is quite anxious to see you, and I do not want to keep him waiting." He exited the room before Sans could protest anymore.

Sans huffed at the door as it closed, then drank down the last of his tea before (very, very cautiously) teleporting the mug over to the dresser. It had barely clinked down before the door practically exploded open.

"Sans!"

Before he knew what was happening, Papyrus had more or less launched himself onto his brother, hugging him tightly. Sans winced, then wheezed out a chuckle as he pat Papyrus' bony back.

"Hey, buddo. Ya miss me that much?"

"I heard you'd been hurt!" Papyrus let go and sat back on his knees. "What happened?" His sockets narrowed. "Was it a...human?"

Sans held up his hands. "Hey, hey, calm down, Pap. I'm fine. I just got a little excited over winter starting."

"Sans, it's spring."

"Are you sure? Because I had a bad fall."

"THAT ISN'T FUNNY, SANS!"

"No? Guess I'm not a season-ed comedian just yet."

"SANS, YOU COULD HAVE DIED!"

Sans winked. "Me? Die? No way, Pap. I've still got au-tumn of jokes left to tell you."

Papyrus huffed, crossing his arms. "Well, despite your terrible sense of humor, I, the GREAT Papyrus, will do my best to nurse you back to full health!" He smacked his palm with a fist, bones clacking together. "I'll give you round the clock care! I'll take you out on our patrols, even! In a-a wagon!"

"Pap, I don't think..."

"Er...apologies for intruding..." Both brothers looked up as Gaster poked his head in. "I could not help but overhear." He tapped his fingertips together. "But, er...I think it may be better if Sans remains here. He is, ah...not in patrolling condition." He gave a hesitant smile. "But...perhaps...you might stay here as well, for the time being? I am rarely here, and it does seem convenient for your station. We, er, would need to put in a bed next-door, but..." He shrugged. "It would be easier than travelling from the Core, I think."

Papyrus brightened. "So close to work?"

Gaster smiled. "You will be able to come back and check on him throughout your patrol." He turned as a whistling came from downstairs. "Ah, that is the sedative. Please, think about the offer."

Papyrus grinned as he turned back to Sans. "This is a great solution! Much better than mine!"

"Yeah, uh, I like it a bit better than being pulled in a wagon."

"And we'll be at work! I'll be able to patrol by myself no problem whi—"

"No," Sans interrupted sharply. "You can't. Not by yourself."

Papyrus sat up straight, looking at Sans with wide, confused sockets. "What? Yes, I can."

Take it easy on me; I'm just a flower!

The voice grated in Sans' head. What if it found him in Snowdin? "No, Papyrus, you can't."

"Why not? I'm at least as strong as actual Royal Guards and--"

"Because!" Sans snapped. He looked away, not wanting to meet his brother's sockets as the memory of holding a plastic bottle of dust flashed in his mind. "Because...because...."

He couldn't finish that sentence, and they slipped into silence.

Until, in a voice far meeker and softer than Sans had ever heard from him, Papyrus asked, "Do you...think I can't do it?"

"What?" Those words came like a slap in the face. "No, no, Pap, I-I just—"

"Because...because I really can! Really! I've been training so hard with Undyne and my special attack is really, really cool and! A-and I think if I..."

Sans watched his brother talk, not hearing the words.

Wow.

He was well on his way to fucking up with this argument.

Not even a whole day earlier, he'd been assuring himself that Papyrus was old enough to take care for himself. And he was. Sure, he was kind and naïve and way too trusting...but he wasn't weak. And he wouldn't be able to get any stronger if Sans kept playing big brother. He couldn't just...stop him out of fear of a little danger. Or even a lot of danger. His baby brother wasn't a kid in striped shirts anymore.

Maybe it was time he started respecting that.

"Sans? Sans, are you listening?"

Sans blinked, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry."

Papyrus huffed. "Were you sleeping with your eyes open? I know you're not well, brother, but that's impressive even for your laziness!"

Sans' cheekbones lifted. It was a little forced, but he had to sell this to himself. He winked.

"Nah, bro, I am absolutely, completely awake." He rested his jaw on his hand. "And I know you're able to fight just fine. I'm just worried you'll ruin my sentry station with all your tidiness if I don't keep my eye on you."

Papyrus crossed his arms with a huff. Despite his act of annoyance, Sans could see the relief on his brother's face. "Because of the situation, I swear to keep your post in its typical horrifying state."

"Thanks, Pap. I know you'll keep me....posted."

"SANS, OH MY GOD."

~

The next day, Sans couldn't help but feel anxious as he heard Papyrus leave the house for his patrol. He needed to keep his mind off of the possibilities and the need to keep an eye on his brother; he didn't want to risk teleporting into the middle of Snowdin in his condition. So, when Gaster came in to bring him a mug of tea and a mild sedative for the pain, he was immediately ready to kickstart a conversation.

"All right, Gaster, three questions."

Gaster looked at the other skeleton in surprise, then smiled as he set the tray down. "Very well. I will answer what I can."

Oh. That was easier than he thought it'd be. "Okay, first off, what does W.D. stand for?"

Gaster blinked, then let out a loud laugh. "I am sorry?"

"Your name," Sans clarified. "I've been trying to figure it out since we met."

Gaster shook his head, still smiling. "It is awful. I prefer going by my family name."

"That doesn't answer my question at all."

"That was the point."

Sans groaned, head falling back against the pillow. "C'mon, it can't be that bad. 'Sans' isn't exactly great."

"Only because you do not know your history. There were quite a few Sanses in the village, from what I remember," Gaster said as he poured hot water into the two mugs. He glanced up at Sans, then sighed as he bobbed the teabag into one mug. "Wing Ding."

"What?"

"My given name is Wing Ding."

Sans' cheekbones lifted a bit. "Oh my god. That's great."

"I do not appreciate your patronizing, Sans," Gaster scolded lightly. "It is terrible when spoken. It is meant to be signed."

"So how do you sign it?"

Gaster glanced up again, then smiled a bit before his hands gracefully signed his name, gliding from one letter to another. "It is an old name, but still elegant in its proper language." He pulled out the tea bag and spooned out some honey into both mugs—it made the sedative go down easier. "Tea first?"

"Yeah. And, uh, second question." Sans took the warm mug from the other skeleton. "Why are you letting me and Papyrus live here?"

Gaster again blinked in surprise at the question, though he didn't laugh this time. "I explained yesterday. It is convenient. You are still recovering, and I do not think Papyrus wants to be apart from you any more than you want to be from him. And anyway, I have not slept here once since the, ah, issue with the amalgamates. It seems like a disservice to the king to let this house go to waste."

Sans looked down at his tea, rubbing the side of the mug as he thought. He hadn't known what to expect with that answer, really, but...it was a lot simpler than he'd guessed. "We won't stay too long."

Gaster smiled. "That is not an issue, Sans. At any rate, it is nice to see some life in here."

Sans glanced up and lifted his cheekbones again, returning the smile. "Well...it's, uh, it's really appreciated." He took a long sip of tea. "All right, third question."

"I am ready," Gaster said as he stirred the mug with the sedative.

"When were you planning on telling me you'd reset?"

Gaster dropped the spoon with a loud clank. "I am sorry?"

"Heh. So I was right." Sans took a sip of tea. "Well, it was just a guess. But you noticed that my mouth stopped moving—according to my notes, the only ones who noticed the change were people who had reset. And also..." He winked. "...you've gotten better with the language. When we met, you could barely get through a sentence without needing something translated."

Gaster blinked, then smiled and shook his head as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was silent for a long moment, then laughed. "It is a shame I have grown cautious in my old age. If I had gotten to you before Asgore, given you the same training I have given Alphys, imagine the scientist you would be with your perception!" He smiled and shrugged. "I suppose it should not be much of a surprise that I did reset, despite my warnings. I am a scientist, and theories are meant to be tested."

Sans sat up eagerly. "So how far did you get?"

Gaster was silent again, and his smile faded as he looked down at his hands.

"Far enough."

Oh. Sans sat back. "You didn't get where you wanted to."

Gaster shook his head. "We all have foolish wishes. I should have known I was setting myself up for disappointment." He let out a bitter laugh. "Even a human could not go back almost a thousand years."

"A thous—!"

"I know...I know." Gaster sighed, resting his skull in his hand. "As I said, it was a foolish wish."

Sans rubbed his knee, browbone furrowed.

"Why'd you want to go back that far?" he asked quietly. "That'd just take you back to the war, wouldn't it?"

"Just after." He covered his eyes. "When...when we were forced underground, everything was in absolute chaos. Monsters panicking, several injured, families separated. The group I was with...the few skeletons that escaped from our village, I lost them as we fled, and it was many years before I could speak well enough to ask where they were. By that point, I think your parents were all that were left." He dragged his hand down his face. "But I thought...if I could go back as I am now...if I could just speak..."

"You could save them?" Sans' voice was soft, and he had pulled his knees up to his chest, like a kid listening to a story.

The scientist swallowed. "It is...complicated. Monsters and skeletons have many fundamental similarities...but we are not entirely the same." He waved a hand. "It is likely different for you and Papyrus—you were raised as monsters, more or less. But to be without your own kind, your own culture for so long..." He swallowed again and was very still for a few minutes. Finally, he signed, "It is very lonely." He pulled a face. "I would not be so selfish if I succeeded."

Sans grimaced as well. "You, uh, you're really stuck on this selfish thing. I really think you're being hard on yourself."

Gaster shook his head. "You do not understand. My motivation for everything is self-serving. The tests for Determination, the resets, the awful experiment I put you through..."

Sans' brow bone furrowed. "But you said...I mean, that was to stabilize me, right?"

Gaster shut his sockets. "Yes."

"So then—"

"But I suggested it because...because I could not bear being alone again."

Silence fell, and Gaster covered his sockets, his shoulders—well, really, his whole body sagging. Sans fiddled with the corner of a blanket, unsure of what to do. Papyrus was the one who was better with dealing with emotions. But the Papyrus mode of aggressive kindness didn't seem like Gaster's thing. But...well, maybe he could do something.

"Hey, Gaster?"

The scientist let his hand fall to his lap, sockets turning toward him. Sans' brow furrowed, and he moved his hands slowly, so as to get the grammar right.

"You are not alone anymore," he signed, hands hesitant but clear. He shrugged. "You have me. And Papyrus, too." He winked. "He will be harder to get rid of, honestly."

Gaster stared at Sans for a long few minutes. A long few minutes. Had he signed something wrong? What if he'd insulted him?

"Uh, Ga—"

Sans was cut off by the last thing he expected.

Gaster was hugging him.

Well, sort of. It was the kind of hug that someone who was not a regular hugger would give. Definitely not the bone-crushing squeezes Papyrus—and Sans, on rare occasions—gave. It was delicate—not so much squeezing him as carefully enveloping him, giving him the option to pull away. His dad had hugged him the same way. Huh. Maybe it was a skeleton thing.

"You and Papyrus have me, as well."

The words were soft, but they still struck Sans to his core, reverberating through his bones and just barely making his sockets wet. He couldn't say why. Maybe because he was tired. Maybe because he was still terribly sore and drained from the experiment.

Or maybe it was because, for the first time since his parents had dissolved, it didn't feel like the whole Underground was on his shoulders.

Or...maybe...for the first time in a very, very long time, he felt like he was home.