Sans awoke to warmth.

This was how he had been woken after each of Gaster's experiments in the last two months, whether they be routine injections, or something else entirely.

Because Gaster had started doing other things. Painful things. Sans had honestly stopped paying too much attention to what was being done to him. He knew it was something that was supposed to make him "stronger," and it always hurt, no matter what it was.

It wasn't that Gaster was cruel, exactly. He was just cold. He had no anger against Sans, Sans was just his test subject. If Sans really did need more time to rest, then he was given time to rest. And if he really couldn't handle the upcoming experiment, then it wasn't done.

There was simply none of the former warmth, none of the love that Gaster used to have.

But there was Jeff.

Always, Jeff was there when he woke up. He always was rubbing healing Magic into Sans' body, always trying to ease the soreness from Gaster's latest experiment. Sometimes he brought food, too. Little morsels of whatever he could fit in his pocket. Because Gaster had switched back to giving Sans the food solution, and, while Sans displayed a now well-practiced apathy towards it, same as everything, it still didn't taste good.

Sometimes Jeff could only stay until Sans woke up. He said he had to make sure he at least was a bit productive, so Gaster didn't just get fed up with him and fire him.

But, other times, he stayed with Sans for hours.

Sometimes they would talk a bit, and Jeff would tell Sans what was going on. About how the CORE was almost finished, nearly one thousand, six hundred feet tall. About how everyone had been curious as to where Sans had gone, and Gaster had refused to tell anyone beyond, "he's gone." About how people had mostly stopped asking.

Sometimes, though, they just sat in companionable silence, Sans silently happy for Jeff's presence, and Jeff silently mourning the plight of the small skeleton.

Eventually, the bandage around Sans' skull came off. He learned Blue Magic quickly after that, his left eye glowing blue with the focus. During his training sessions now, Gaster always kept a grip on his Soul with Blue Magic, just in case Sans tried something with his new power. He never did, never would; some part of him still thought of Gaster as his friend, his father. Hurting him would be unthinkable.

Gaster still took precautions.

Months passed like this. Sans became even more depressed as time went on, obeying Gaster without complaint or joy or any emotion at all, just blankly doing as told. The best part of his day was when Jeff was there.

One day, as Sans had woken up, he had looked up at Jeff.

"... hey, jeff...?"

Jeff looked down at him, same small, slightly mournful smile as usual. "Yeah?"

"... what would happen if... if i just... stopped...?"

Jeff paused. "What... what do you mean?"

Sans closed his eyes, sighing. "if... if i didn't do it anymore. just... didn't get up when gaster called me. didn't do what he told me to, didn't use my magic when he wanted me to... what do you think would happen? if i just... laid here, forever?"

"... Are you saying, what if you gave up?"

"... i think so. yeah."

Jeff hesitated. "... Sans. You can't give up. If... if you gave up... if you lost hope... you would die."

"but would that be such a bad thing? it's not like i have much of a life to lose down here anyway. i'm just... gaster's test subject."

Jeff shook his head sorrowfully. "No. No, you're not, Sans. You are so much more.  Even if Gaster doesn't say so. You have always been more, and you always will be." He hugged Sans. "Even if you don't think so. You can't give up hope."

Sans just sighed.

"Promise me, Sans. Promise me you won't give up."

Sans leaned into Jeff's side. "i... i promise."

~o0o~

Time went on, and things only got worse. Gaster increased the dosages for the DTW injections, and, while everything worked okay, and there was no meltiness, it still hurt Sans a lot more. It took longer for Jeff to wake him up, and even longer to calm him down.

And still Gaster went on with all his other work, all his other experiments on Sans.

Physically, Magically, Sans was strong. He was stronger than Gaster, probably. But his Soul, his HP, was weakening.

And Jeff decided that was where he drew the line.

"You have to stop this." He said to Gaster one day, just after Sans' fifteenth birthday (which had gone largely uncommemorated.)

Gaster looked down at the papers on his desk. "What's wrong with the CORE power distribution? It seems perfectly safe to me."

"Not that. With Sans."

"You do not get a say in that, Jeff."

"His HOPE is dropping. He's going to die, doctor, because of you."

Gaster closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his face was perfectly calm. "I already allowed you far more involvement in this project than I had originally intended. I see now that was a mistake on my part, and I apologize for my shortsightedness. Jeff, I am removing you from the DTW project."

"You idiot." Jeff hissed, bearing his teeth, the fur on the back of his neck stiffening. "It's only because of me that he's still alive. If you don't let me see him, I can guarantee he will give up and die within the month."

Gaster looked at Jeff, the ridge of one brow raised. "First of all, I suggest you remember to whom you are speaking. I am still your boss, Jeff, even if you do not approve of my actions. Second of all, how do you propose I fix that?"

"You can't be serious."

"I am entirely serious."

"Fine, since you seem so intent on denying exactly what you know needs to be done, here is what I propose you do: Stop hurting Sans. Let go of all the Lv you're holding on to. Take care of Sans. Love him again. And end the DTW project."

Gaster leaned forward in his seat, folding his hand over his desk. "You and I both know that is not going to happen. I cannot stop the DTW project. The result is far too valuable, far too necessary."

"You've gotta be kidding me." Jeff hissed, flexing his paws, his claws unsheathing with the movement.

"I assure you I am not kidding you, and, as you seem to care so much about Sans, and you are a doctor, I suggest you find a different solution."

For a moment, Jeff just spluttered incredulously.

"Well, Jeff?" Gaster tapped his fingers together. "If you can only come up with nothing, then nothing will be done. And if all you can do is curse me, then I will refuse to have you on my payroll."

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, his paws curling into fists. After a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes again, his pupils mere slits, ears laid back. "His HP is falling because he sees no reason to continue hoping." Jeff snarled, making it clear that he would much rather be talking about ways to make Gaster stop than Sans keep going. "So you have to find something to give him reason to want to live."

"... Such as?"

"I don't know! Some.. responsibility or something. Something relying on him, something that needs him to keep going." On seeing Gaster begin to speak, Jeff added, "Something other than breaking the Barrier and killing humanity, as that is obviously A- not your motive anymore, and B- not working anyway. It needs to be something closer. More immediate. A real, tangible thing that's there, every second, not-- not a vague idea that might not even work, some undefined time in the distant future."

Gaster was silent a moment, deep in thought. Finally. "Hm. Perhaps. ... I will consider it. You may go."

Jeff opened and closed his mouth a few times, but realized he wasn't going to be getting anywhere with this. So he left.

Gaster waited a little while, going back to working on the problem of how to distribute the CORE's power across the Underground. It was a tricky problem, as Asgore didn't want a bunch of pipes and tubes and wires everywhere, not to mention that, if there were a bunch of pipes and tubes and wires everywhere, some idiot would undoubtedly get into things, mess it up, and either light everything on fire or blow up the CORE.

Gaster did eventually find a solution, then moved on to the problem of Sans' HP.

To be honest, this one was rather easily solved. Something for Sans to hope for? Something to give him responsibility for? Something to rely on him?

Yes, this was easy.

There were sections of the lab that Sans had never been to, that Jeff had never been to, that Asgore had never been to. These were sections of the lab that Gaster had completely cornered off, claiming as his own, not allowing anyone else there.

In one of these sections, there was a tank. A suspension tank, one that had been quietly humming, fans whirring, filled with a bluish gel, keeping the small, Soulless frame inside "alive" for the last fifteen years.

It was to this section of the lab, this suspension tank, that Gaster went to.

It was time to give DTW Subject-643 a Soul.

§

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