It was sheer desperation that led Sans to his actions.

It had been three weeks since the Determination incident, and by unspoken agreement, the DTW project was on hold, at least for the time being. The most any of the lab employees were able to get out of Sans was that he and Gaster had been working on "a thing" that had backfired and hit Sans in the face, and while they had thought he was okay at the time, he evidently wasn't, which led to his jaw being fused to his skull, smile permanent on his face.

After Gaster's comment about living on ketchup and mustard, Sans had started carrying around a bottle of one or the other, and made a point of weirding everyone out by drinking the raw condiments.

But he tired quickly of said condiments.

For a little while, Gaster made the same solution he had back when Sans was still S642, but Sans had never realized then just how bland that stuff was.

"it tastes like..." Sans trailed off as he and Gaster entered the break room. He glared at the offending glass of the stuff in his hand. "like paper. but more boring. boring paper."

They had tried once or twice to add flavor to it, but that had failed rather dramatically, and after said failed attempts, Sans had decided that he did not need flavorful food solution.

That didn't stop him from complaining about it, though.

"can you imagine that?" He lamented to Jeff, who happened to be in the break room. "eating boring paper for the rest of your life."

Gaster just gave him a dry look as he walked over to the refrigerator. "Boring paper, as opposed to exciting paper?"

Jeff chuckled a little, despite his sympathy for Sans. Sans just groaned as he sat at the table.

Gaster, meanwhile, pulled a hotdog out of the fridge.

"okay, now that's just cruel."

"We could stick it in a blender or something."

"what, and have hotdog goop? that's pretty gross, dings."

"Why? It's all the exact same stuff, just... mushified. It would probably taste the same. You could probably eat it."

After a second, Sans let out a roar of frustration, standing up so quick he knocked over his chair. He stalked over to Gaster and snatched the hotdog out of his hand. With a loud proclamation of "i eat what i want, how i want it!!" he shoved the hotdog towards his mouth.

He was quite astonished to find that the hotdog did not smash against his face as he thought it would have, but instead somehow fit into his mouth.

Sans spent a moment contemplating that as he ate the hotdog, reveling in the not-boring-paper taste, then grinned up at Gaster, who looked rather surprised. "whaddya know, i can eat things!"

Gaster just stared, a sort of what the heck look on his face. "What the heck, Sans."

"Okay," Jeff called from his seat at the table, eyes wide, whiskers trembling, and fur poofed out, "that was horrifying. Please don't ever do it again in front of me."

Gaster just reached into the fridge for another hotdog, which he shoved at Sans, a grin growing on his face.

"Do it again!"

Thus, Sans learned to eat again.

Despite having found that he could, in fact, eat things, Sans kept to carrying around a condiment bottle in one of the interior pockets of his lab coat. His eating was, apparently, rather horrifying to watch, so he decided not to subject the general population to that horror, instead sticking to liquids-- condiments, mostly-- when anyone other than Gaster was around.

~o0o~

Despite Gaster's earlier claim that Sans' body would get used to the extra Magic and work with it, it did not.

Several months had passed since they had first raised Sans' Magic capacity, and still it hurt him to use Magic. And it wasn't just Blue Magic he couldn't do, they found. Anything more than the smallest, weakest attacks sent him reeling. One time, he even passed out.

So Gaster went back to his notes. Back to the plans for the runes he had used on Sans. But he found no error there, so Sans was knocked out so he could make sure he hadn't made a mistake in the carving. He hadn't. Everything matched up perfectly. Back to his notes, again, then, but everything still seemed right.

He couldn't find the problem, couldn't figure out why Sans couldn't use Magic, could find no problem with the runes.

Sans had even less of an idea than he did.

That was, until Gaster was using his own Blue Magic to move some equipment around for CORE construction. And then, it all made sense.

So he found Sans. Sat him down for a long conversation.

"I figured it out. Your Magic. You don't have a focus."

Sans frowned. "isn't focusing what i'm doing when i'm trying to use magic?"

Gaster shook his head.  "No, not like the verb. Well. Kinda like the verb. It's-... it's this." He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again they were glowing purple.

"oh. that. what's the significance of that?"

Gaster paused, considering the best way to explain as he dismissed the Magic he had used to light his eyes. "It's... When a monster's Magic is developing, after a certain point, they also start to develop a focus, like my eyes. Usually it's centered around the eyes. Sometimes it can be something else, but usually... Anyway, as a monster starts using a lot more Magic, it gets harder to channel all that Magic via mental focus alone, so the body makes up for it with a focus. Magic is channeled through the focus, which makes it easier to control and work with, it focuses the Magic, hence the name, focus." Gaster paused to make sure Sans was still following. "Now, something like this, artificially boosting a monster's Magic has never been done before, so I admit I had sort of just assumed that, with the Magic, a focus would develop. But it hasn't, so you can't control your Magic. You can't focus it enough to control it, because you have nothing to channel it through. So we'll give you a focus. I can make one the same way as the Blasters, and I can implant it in your skull. There's still quite a bit of scarring in your right shoulder from the human attack, so it would probably be on your left side, just to promote better flow through natural tissue up your arm. Once I-..." Gaster paused, noticing the fear in Sans' eyes, the way he was shrinking away, scared. "... Is... Is something wrong?"

Sans shook his head, scared. "dings... i-... i dunno if i wanna do this. i-... we've already had so much go wrong, and i don't wanna get hurt anymore..." he trailed off quietly. "... i don't think i wanna do this anymore."

Gaster looked surprised. "Sans, I know you're scared, but-"

"look at me, gaster!" Sans practically shouted, fear making his voice sharper than he had meant, making his attempt at seriousness with Gaster's preferred name seem even angrier. "I'm not even five feet tall. my face is frozen, i can't open my mouth, i can't really bite things, i can't even not smile. i can't use my magic hardly at all because of a stupid mistake. i'm already broken, and, doing this, you could break me even more!"

Gaster blinked. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. And closed again. He blinked a little more. It seemed as though he was completely unprepared for this situation. Finally, a strange expression crossing his face, he nodded. "Okay. I understand."

And then he abruptly turned and walked out of the lab.

Sans lifted one hand in a halfhearted attempt to call him back. "dings, wait!! i didn't mean--!"

But it was too late. Gaster had already left.

"...i didn't mean it like that..."

~o0o~

The next day, it seemed like Gaster was intentionally avoiding Sans. Sans tried to find him, tried to apologize, tried to say something, but...

Yeah, Gaster was definitely avoiding him.

It was the worst when he finally caught up to Gaster.

He had come armed with an excuse for conversation, and a plan to subtly slip into a talk about last night.

So, he walked up behind Gaster, but suddenly found it hard to speak. When Gaster noticed him approaching, he swept up the blueprints he was working on, tucking the rolled papers under his arm, and started to walk away.

"w-wait! dings, i--"

Gaster stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yes?"

Sans hesitated. The tone in Gaster's voice was the same one he used when dealing with interns he strongly disliked.

"i, uh-- i had a question- about the ventilation in the-- the public pathways- in the core."

Gaster just barely glanced over his shoulder at Sans. The look on his face was the same as his voice. "Well? What is it?"

"i- i wanted t-to know if they needed t-to be capable of f-filtering out the magic in the air-- so, you know-- we can drain it easily after-- after flooding it to kill a human."

Gaster closed his eyes, sighing slowly. "Yes. They must be capable of filtering Magic out of the air. Is that all?"

Sans wanted to say no. Wanted to say sorry, to run to Gaster and hug him, wanted Gaster to lift him up and hug him back, tell him it was okay, that it had only been an accident, that all was forgiven.

"y-yeah. th-that's all-..."

"Good." And then Gaster was walking away.

Sans felt something wet trailing down his face, his frozen, grinning face, something warm and wet and sorrowful.

Something broken.

~o0o~

The next morning, Sans didn't want to get up. He didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to go into the lab, didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to see Gaster.

But.

There was a part of him that forced him up. Kept him clinging to the hope that things would get better.

Something keeping him Determined.

When he walked into the break room, it appeared that Gaster had been waiting for him. The Royal Scientist was sitting at the table fingers steepled in front of him, face coldly blank.

Part of Sans was scared, so deathly scared, of this confrontation. Scared that this was the end, that he had ruined thing far too much, that Gaster was so mad at him, and would never forgive him.

Another part of him looked forward to this, anticipating finally just apologizing to him, saying sorry. A part of him knew that Gaster would forgive him.

Gaster said nothing as Sans walked into the break room, and over to the fridge. Sans kept nervously glancing at the taller skeleton.

He pulled open the refrigerator door and reached for a hotdog. But then he realized he was far too nervous to deal with solids right now, and grabbed a mustard bottle instead.

Taking a sip of of the yellow condiment and trying to conceal how badly he was shaking, he walked over to the table and sat down opposite Gaster.

For a long while, there was silence.

Sans nervously drank his breakfast mustard. Was it just him, or did it taste funny? Was it suddenly stifling hot in there? And was the ground shaking, or was that just his anxiety?

Finally, Sans could bear it no longer. "d-dings, i-- i didn't--" But Sans found he could not talk.

So then, finally, Gaster began to speak. "Sans, I do not think you understand how imperative it is that I do this."

Sans was suddenly sweating, and it was difficult to breathe.

"That I proceed with the DTW project. You see, war is inevitable, and this time, monsters need to win."

Sans' vision started to waver. He felt like there was something he was missing, some important detail that had been lost to his nervousness.

"I promised Asgore I would have the necessary weapon to win that war. You are the weapon. Thus, you must not only be able to control your Magic, but you must also have more Determination than a human."

The mustard. It had tasted funny.

"y-yuh-you dr-duh-drugg-guh--"

"I drugged your... beverage, yes. Do you know why?" Gaster stood as Sans' limbs started to defy his commands, falling limply to his sides. "Because you are my test subject. You always have been."

Sans' vision got dark, and he slipped sideways.

"And you always will be."

§

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