It was another week and a half before Sans was well enough to stand up and walk around. For the most part, his head, along with all the other smaller injuries, had stopped hurting, but his ribs and right shoulder still burned with exertion, and he could only move around for a little while before growing tired.

Gaster assured him, though, that he was, in fact, making a very speedy recovery.

Something felt off to Sans, though. Like he just couldn't work as hard. There wasn't as much of a point in working hard.

"It's because you lost so much Determination." Gaster supplied. "We'll be able to put it back into you once you've recovered. Luckily, we won't have to redo any of the phase one injections. You're still just about as solid as you were." He paused. "... I'd say, once you've finished healing, we could probably do it all in two or three injections, if not one."

Sans, in response, had frowned and groaned.

"What? Is that a problem?"

"... no, it's just..." He sighed. "that was a lot of work lost. and it's not gonna be fun redoing it."

Gaster gave Sans a sympathetic look. "No. War isn't fun. But that's why we're doing this, so that the war won't last as long."

"you're saying that like we're in a war. right now."

"Well, technically, we are. Asgore declared war on the humans when the prince was killed. He never revoked that or anything, and never made peace with the humans, so..."

Sans just sighed.

Gaster decided now was the time to move on to another subject he had been looking into.

"Also, about your Blue Magic..."

Sans' face took on a stricken expression. He still blamed himself and his inability to use Blue Magic for not being able to kill the human.

"... I think I've found a solution."

"... what's that...?"

"Well, Blue Magic, along with any other kind of trait Magic, requires a very large amount of Magic, and, well, despite you having a very large capacity for Magic, the sheer amount it would require is simply too much for someone of your size--"

"gee, thanks."

Gaster paused to give Sans a small glare. "Don't interrupt." For a moment, they just looked at each other, before Gaster continued. "Like I was saying, it's too much Magic for someone as small as you to have the capacity for naturally. It won't matter how much you train and practice and try, you'll never be able to naturally raise your Magic capacity high enough to use Blue Magic."

"you keep putting stress on the word naturally." Sans said slowly. "what are you saying, that we're gonna to artificially raise my magic capacity?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Gaster's words were accompanied by gestures in Hands, a clear sign that he was getting excited.

Sans frowned. "... how?"

"Runes. A few across your ribs, and then a few directly into your Soul."

"but--... won't that- y'know, hurt?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but you'd recover. And in the long run, it would benefit you immensely. Heck, we could probably even make it so your Magic capacity was higher that Asgore's."

"that's, uh, a lot of magic."

Gaster grinned sharply. "Enough to kill a human. Enough to kill a ton of humans."

Sans blinked slowly, then looked up at Gaster. "... enough to win the war."

Gaster's grin widened. "Exactly."

~o0o~

By the time another week and a half had passed, Gaster allowed Sans out of the tenth floor, up into the rest of the lab again.

Every monster who saw him was horrified and sympathetic about the extent of his wounds. Whenever anyone asked how he had gotten hurt that badly, he responded how Gaster had instructed him.

"i saw the human and decided i would try to fight. guess i just wasn't quite up to the challenge."

Of course, this only made the lab employees more sympathetic to him. They though he was a hero, and even more so for his humility in admitting, but not complaining about, his own weakness.

Which, on one hand, made Sans feel even more guilty, but on the other, made him even more determined to become stronger, so he could live up to these people's beliefs.

Gaster was pleased to see Sans' refound hope in the DTW project.

~o0o~

"So then." Gaster said one morning. "I think in a few more days, we can pick things up again. So which would you like to do first, the Determination injection, or boosting your Magic."

Sans hesitated. "i-... i say magic."

Gaster nodded. "Alright. I have everything almost ready. By the time you're fully recovered, we'll be able to do it."

~o0o~

That time came unnervingly, frighteningly soon.

Sans found himself once again on the operating table, more nervous than he had been in a long time-- at least with the Blasters, Gaster did have some experience, even if it was from long ago. But this he had never done before.

Gaster assured Sans, though, that he knew what he was doing, he had checked everything over countless times, and it would work.

So he lay there, shirtless, on the table, waiting for the sedative to kick in.

"d-dings?" He called.

Gaster slipped into view, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"promise me you'll be careful? you won't mess around?"

Gaster frowned a little, amusedly. "What, you don't trust me?"

Sans said nothing, just stared up at his creator.

"Ouch, Sans. That hurts. Haven't I kept you alive for almost fourteen years, now? You'd think I'd get a little respect for that, buuuuut no." Gaster paused, noticing the look on Sans' face. "Sans, I will willingly admit to screwing around with a lot of things I probably shouldn't, but I never play around when I can't afford to make mistakes."

Sans blinked a little, and nodded.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Sans. You won't even hardly feel a thing. Well. You'll be sore when you wake up, but only that." Gaster paused, grinning. "Now go to sleep. I wanna get to work on this."

Comforted by Gaster's confidence, Sans closed his eyes and tried to relax. He was out in just a couple more minutes.

~o0o~

Sans groaned.

"Oh good. You're awake." Gaster said.

"mmmnnngggh..." He mumbled drowsily. His ribs hurt. His Soul, too, probably. It was weird.

He felt Gaster's hand against his shoulder. "How do you feel."

"...hurts." Sans responded shortly.

Sans hadn't opened his eyes yet, but he got the sense Gaster was smiling. "Yeah. There were quite a few more runes this time. But, you're strong. Give it a day or two, and you should be fine."

Sans mumbled a vaguely affirmative answer.

By the next morning, he was feeling well enough to get up.

Carefully, with Gaster's help, he sat up. Twisted a bit, to swing his legs off the table.

So far so good.

He slid off the table, onto his own two feet, blinking a little.

"Are you alright?"

Sans smiled and nodded a bit. "y-yeah. i'm okay. my ribs just hurt."

"Ah. I'm going to let go, now, alright?"

Sans nodded. Gaster released his grip on Sans' shoulder.

"see?" Sans said after a moment, gesturing a bit. "perfectly fine."

Gaster nodded once, sharply. "If you're sure. Just take it easy. Don't want to hurt yourself."

"who, me?" Sans grinned.

Gaster smiled, about to make some snarky remark, when his phone went off. He pulled it out of his lab coat pocket, accepting the call. "What?"

Sans watched, just able to make out a muffled voice, as Gaster's pleased expression shifted into one of extreme irritation.

Finally, "I'll be there in a moment." He ended the call, sliding the phone back into his pocket. Then he looked at Sans. "There's an issue with the CORE. Apparently, some intern thought it would be fun to screw everything up and light it on fire-- despite the fact that EVERYTHING THERE is supposed to be FIRE RETARDANT."

Sans snickered a little at Gaster's irritation, despite the fact  that he knew someone would probably be going home out of work tonight.

As Gaster slipped out the door, he turned back to look at Sans. "If you need anything, Jeff should be in his lab. Stay down here on the tenth floor for now." He fixed Sans with a firm look. "Don't kill yourself, Sans."

And then he was out the door.

Sans just chuckled.

Anyway. He was still pretty sore, but above all, Sans was hungry. He supposed he would have to head down to the break room, then.

As he started to take a step, he suddenly felt nauseous.

With the next step, his head was spinning, his vision wavering.

Wh-what--? He wondered, panicked. I have to get help--

He staggered forward another step, but things only got worse. His already blurred vision got tunnely and dark, his knees knocking together beneath him.

Sans fell, trembling and sweating, suddenly very sick. He curled up in the fetal position, his breaths coming in shaky gasps. It felt like his chest was burning.

There was no way he was making it to the door, much less all the way to Jeff. Distantly he knew this, knew he wasn't going to be getting help.

Had to bring help to him, then.

He tried to shout. Tried to scream out to Jeff, in hopes that the kind cat monster would hear and come to him.

But his voice only came out in a strangled croak, and even that action was exerting him well beyond what he was capable of in his current state.

As he slipped further from consciousness, he silently swore.

"You'll be perfectly fine," he said. "Just a little sore, he said.

Sans wondered with his last scrap of weary consciousness if Gaster had known this would happen or not.

And then everything was just a jumbled mess, assaulting him from every direction, a blur of color, lying there on the floor, curled up and shaking and sweating and deathly cold, begging for help, only hearing a hoarse moan, his own voice? gasping for breath, trembling and shivering, so cold and just so tired, everything spinning and nonsensical blurs and Sans? Sans can you hear me? freezing cold and burning ribs, it ached so much, Sans, you have to hold on! throbbing pain in his Soul, the screaming in his head, so cold, why isn't this working?! I don't understand- have to hurry-- maybe it's not enough--

Stillness. Calm and relief and warmth, seeping from his Soul, through his body.

Just stay still.

Melting the ice that had been creeping into his bones and cooling the burning in his chest.

You're going to be alright.

Sans started to breathe again, at first in rough, strained gasps, but they quickly evened out into long, slow, deep breaths.

And then he began to wake up, really wake up.

He was lying on the operating table. He felt wet. And like a thousand pounds were resting on his chest. His left arm had a sort of unusual pressure in it, too.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to snap them shut again with a sharp gasp. There was a bright light over the table, shining right into his eyesockets.

"Sans?" Gaster's voice was close.

"'sss t'... brnnnnggghhh..." He attempted, and failed.

"Hush." Gaster gently commanded, one hand settling on Sans' shoulder, the other against the top of his skull. "Just rest."

Sans was happy to oblige.

A few more hours, and he was feeling a bit better. When he opened his eyes, the overhead light was turned off. There was an IV drip in his Soul, and, apparently, another one had been inserted into the marrow of his left humerus, which accounted for the strange pressure. There were also the usual variety of sensors that were attached to him in his weekly check-ups, along with a variety of others, both to his Soul and body. Nearby, an assortment of machinery fans were humming softly, and he could hear a soft beeping sound that seemed to match his pulse.

For a while, he just lay there.

Then he saw Gaster, and Gaster saw him, saw he was awake-...

An unnaturally gentle smile crossed Gaster's face, only just hinting at his relief.

"Thank the Annoying Dog. You're all right."

Sans smiled weakly. "...--wh-a-...?"

"Not now." Gaster stepped close, gathering Sans up in his arms, something he had unfortunately seemed to have stopped doing as Sans got older. "Not now. I'll tell you later." He hugged Sans to his chest, tucking the smaller skeleton's skull under his chin. "For now, just rest."

Sans snuggled up to Gaster, pressing his skull against Gaster's ribs, listening to his pulse, relaxing in his grip...

Like this, warm and comfortable and lovingly wrapped in Gaster's hug, he could believe that everything was okay, that it would be okay, that it would stay okay.

He slept comfortably.

§

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