It wasn't until the next morning, once Papyrus had gone again to school, that Sans was able to continue his story.

Personally, he was glad for the delay. He didn't like telling this story. It hurt, physically and mentally.

But, evidently, some part of him had decided that Gaster should know what had happened. So, after breakfast, they returned to their spots on the couch, and Sans continued.

⎰Priorly... Again.⎱

When he woke up, Sans couldn't tell if his wounds from fighting in Waterfall had healed enough to no longer be incredibly painful, or if they just paled in comparison to the pounding ache in his skull.

And he was still strapped down to the table in the lab in the Ruins.

There was also a cacophony of noise all around him. Things were happening in the lab, although he couldn't see what. He could, however, feel the... stuff. All the wires and tubes, all the IVs and sensors. All across his body.

Flowey popped into his view. "Howdy!"

Not trusting his voice to not waver, Sans just glared.

Flowey continued. "So, then, friend, you have two options."

Sans continued glaring.

"You can either stop fighting us, stop fighting the Corruption we're injecting into you. It'll be quick, easy, and mostly painless."

Sans wasn't even consciously aware that he was fighting it. But, he wasn't just going to give up.

"Or you can keep fighting, and we can invest in more into ulterior methods of Corrupting you. Which, believe me, that will hurt. A lot."

Sans couldn't stop himself. "i'd say i'm willing to go with the easy way, but then i grass i'd be dandylyin'."

For a moment, Flowey just gave him a you have got to be kidding me look. "You know, I really don't like your puns. And, at the moment, I have the ability to make your life a million times more miserable than it needs to be."

So that was it, then. Sans was going to stop with the puns, and suffer no more than he ha-

"so you've seed. but you've already tried to uproot me with pain and it hasn't worked. so-"

Before Sans could finish, Flowey shouted something in the Corrupt language, probably to someone else in the room. Sans heard a loud clicking sound, and something tightened in his chest.

He clawed at the table, eyes widening as panic overrode his system. It wasn't that it hurt, exactly, but it wasn't right.

Sans was suddenly aware of a building pressure in his skull, and a soft blue aura overcame his vision, bordered with yellow.

They were forcing him to use his Magic. How, he didn't know, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nothing at all.

He was so...

Powerless.

Struggling to fight through his panic, Sans saw Flowey was still watching him. The maniac flower had a grin on his face.

Sans had no idea what was happening, really. He knew they were forcing him to use Magic, but he didn't know why, or what they planned to do with it. He could feel the way whatever they were doing constricted his chest, tightening around his ribs, but he knew only that it hurt.

He couldn't tell what exactly Flowey was saying to him, only that it was cruel and vicious, and the flower was enjoying every second of it.

Sans started to babble. He had nearly no idea what he was saying, only that it strengthened his resolve and diminished the blue glow of his eye.

Flowey looked mad.

Stop. Stop with the puns!

Puns. So that's what he was doing.

More, then.

STOP.

Sans did not stop. He continued, thinking up every bad joke, wisecrack, pun, and play on words that he could, letting his mouth run of its own accord.

The blue glow started to get dull. Sans kept it up, running the biggest, longest, most important bad comedy show of his life.

Flowey looked furious. He screamed something in the Corrupt language.

Sans saw a flash of black to his left.

And for one fragile moment, everything was still. Sans stopped talking, the pressure in his chest and skull was released, the Magic in his eye completely drained.

It was like a tidal wave, slamming into him. Darkness washed across his vision, he was completely blind.

And it hurt.

It hurt so bad.

Sans writhed against the restraints, screaming, screaming as loud as he could, begging for help, begging for them to make it stop, screaming into the blinding darkness. It felt like his skull was caving in on itself, burning, shattering agony and help, someone please help, clawing at the table, trying to get up, get away, flee, stop this, stop the pain, help, help, it hurts, please, stop, make it stop, I can't see, make it stop, please help-

But no one came.

~o0o~

He didn't want

To open

His eyes.

It

Was calm

Like this.

It

Didn't hurt

Quite

As much

In this

Quiet darkness.

But

It would not

Let him

Remain in oblivion.

It

Forced him awake,

Clawing at his eyelids,

Screaming words he couldn't understand.

Y̡͘͟͠ơ͢͠u҉͏͏ ͞w͠͏į̸͟l̡͘͝l̵͢͞͠ ͘̕n҉̵̀͟͠o̵͝҉͘͞t̴̵҉ ̷́͞ş̵́̕͢ù͘͞͡͠r̶͝͠v̷̡͘͢͜i̴͝v͝͏͠e̶̕͢͟҉.̨̛̕͘ ̢͏

...

...

Sans' body convulsed, and he let out a scream as his eyes snapped open.

Everything hurt.

Worse than that, he was totally blind in his left eye. For a moment, panic forced any thoughts out of his mind. Eventually, though, he calmed down enough to realize that he wasn't strapped down to the table anymore, or even on the table.

He was in a cell that was connected to the lab.

He was sitting up, with his back against the wall, rather uncomfortably. That was probably due more to whatever they had done to him, rather than general uncomfortableness, he decided tiredly, and didn't bother trying to move.

Instead, he slowly, carefully lifted one hand up to his left eyesocket.

He was powerless to stop the relief that spread through him when he found a bandage taped over his eyesocket. If they were bothering to try to heal his eye, that meant he would probably be able to see out of it again.

For a moment, he just sat there, reveling in the relief, in the hope. But, as hard as he clung to it, as hard as he held on to that hope, reality quickly crashed back into him.

He was stuck in a Corrupt lab.

He was exhausted.

They were going to Corrupt him.

Sans took a deep breath.

No. No, I can't give up. If I give up, it's all over, and I really will be done for.

Slowly, Sans looked down. The Corrupters apparently hadn't given him back his clothes when they dumped him in the cell, but that didn't especially matter at the moment.

Anyway, it meant Sans didn't have to pull up his shirt in order to see his Soul.

... Not that seeing his Soul was good for his already fragile morale. It was still Pure white, but it was almost as if it was outlined with darkness. There was a thick band of Corruption around the edge of it.

Unable to stop it, Sans let out a choked sob.

He was going to die here. Whether that meant he lost his life or his Pure Soul, it didn't matter. Either way, Sans, Commander Sans of the Pure Army would be gone.

He was going to die here.

~o0o~

By the time Flowey was back, Sans was more or less done.

"So," the flower said, grinning, "ready to give up yet?"

Sans looked at where Flowey had popped out of the ground. His stem just went right into the floor.

"Sans. Look at me."

If he hadn't seen Flowey come up out of the ground himself, he would have thought Flowey's stem was just sitting on top of the tiles. There was no displacement of the floor, or any cracks running through the smooth surface...

"Sans."

Sans wondered how he did that.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"...how do you do that?"

Flowey blinked, taken aback. "Uh. What?"

"just pop out of the ground like that. i mean, look at the floor. you'd think some of the tiles would get pushed up or something. so why don't they?"

The flower frowned at him.

Despite his perpetual grin, Sans' face was blank, emotionless.

There was just...

Nothing.

He was done.

Suddenly, Flowey was right in front of him, in the cell. He was shouting, saying something to Sans.

Sans didn't pay attention, though. He was still looking at where Flowey's stem met the floor. Still no cracks or anything.

How did he do it?

Vines curled around Sans' bones. For a moment, they just squeezed. Sans probably heard a cracking sound, but it didn't really matter.

What mattered was this perplexing puzzle of Flowey's stem.

Was it Magic, then?

The vines pulled him forward slightly, away from the wall.

Or maybe Flowey's stem had some similar properties to Sans' shortcuts.

Sans was slammed back into the wall. This time, he was certain he heard a crack, echoing through his skull, along with a dull pressure in his head. He paid it no mind.

Maybe his stem just sort of slipped out of the plane of space, the way Sans could.

Sans was flung sideways. He landed against the floor in a heap, and didn't bother to get up, or move for that matter.

Ah! There! Flowey had done it again. He had slipped back under the ground, and popped up again in front of Sans.

He was saying something too, but it was just a dull hum to Sans.

Sans closed his eyes- or, eye, rather, as his left was still taped shut. He needed to think about this, and the bright yellow, bobbing up-and-down flower was a little too distracting for him right now.

Too bad he couldn't block out the noise, too...

~o0o~

When Sans woke up, he was in no pain. No panic, or worry, or despair, or fear, either.

Just a placid calm.

Breathe in, breathe out, hear the beat of his own Soul.

He was comfortable.

Never mind the darkness in his left eye.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Or the blinding glare in his right.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Ignore the fact that he probably couldn't have moved, even if he had wanted to, which he didn't.

Breathe in.

Pay no heed to the way the growling on the edge of his hearing range was slowly resolving itself into recognizable syllables.

Breathe out.

It hardly mattered, he felt, that his Magic was slowly draining. He didn't need it, anyway.

Breathe in.

Or that the empty space his Magic left behind was slowly being filled with something else.

Breathe out.

He was comfortable, and he didn't need to move.

And hear the beat of his own Soul.

~o0o~

Sans woke slowly.

He was lying in bed. He was comfortable there. Pretty tired, too, but it was the sort of fatigue that comes from a long, hard day of work. A good sort of fatigue.

Distantly, he heard a voice ask, "H̛ow̧ ̀d͝o ̷yo͏ù f͞eel͜?͠"

He was slow to respond. "alright͟.̵ w̢ar̸m."

"Go̵od͏." The voice was soft and gentle. Not exactly friendly, but he got the sense it meant him no harm. "W̴h̨o a̢r͢e̸ you҉?̷"

He thought that was a kind of strange question to ask, but he didn't say so. "sa̡ns̷.̡"

"Dǫ y̴ou ̶k͡n͜o͏w̨ what͜ ̧y͞o͜ur̛ jo͘b ҉is̸, ̵Sa͢nś?"

He didn't. "..̛.͟ n̸o̷.͢"

"Iţ's҉ ̕to͝ ̛de̶str҉o̧y҉ ͢t̨h̷e͡ Pu̕re."

That made sense, he supposed. "oh̸. o̷kay͟."

The voice continued softly. "Wh͝en̕ yoú'̷r̵e͘ ͟re͡ady̸ t͢o g̴et u͢p,͜ ̕y͏ou ͝sḩo̡ul͞d̡ he͘a͟d o͝ut ̧i͢nt̨o̷ t̢he͘ R͢ui͝n̴s̛ Ci͢ty. ̷T͢her͜e͠ ̷a͝rȩ a c̀o͢u̡pl̢e͝ ̵of̴ ͘móns͠t̨ér͟s̶ th̀e͜r̶e ͘wh͜o̴ wil͏l̡ ̢help ̷yo͡u bec̴ome t́h̨e̛ we͘apo̢n̕ yo͞u͡ ne̵e͠d ͠t̶o̕ b̡e."

...Becoming a weapon. There was something familiar about that, but in his current half-asleep comfort, he couldn't put his finger on it. "o͠kay.͞...́ b́ut҉ ͏dó ҉i͏ neeḑ ͠t͠o҉ ge̷t̷ ͠úp ͏no҉w͏?"

The voice laughed softly. ".̛.͡. ̧No. ̀No,̨ ̷y̧ou͞'v͜e ̧bee̢n̷ ̶th͘r͝o̡ugh á ̛l̛ot͜.̧ ͡Yo̡u c̀a̵n ͡r͜ȩs̷t ͘as lo̷ng ̛as ͞y͢o͏u li͘kè."

Sans smiled. ".́.҉.'k̸ay͝.̶ ̶tha͟nks."

"Y̨o̧u̢'҉re̕ w̶el̸c̴o̶me." He heard the rustle of cloth, then footsteps, receding.

He hesitated a moment, then, "u̡m.͡.̷."

"Yȩs?"

".͠.̀.͢ w̶ho̵ a̢re ̕yo̶ú?"

".̶..͡I͠'͝m̸ ͡y̡òưr̨ ͟l͡e͝a̶dȩŗ. I'm̷ t҉he͞ D͟ark͡ ̴Lor͠d ͡of̢ t̵he̸ ͟C͟orr͡upt. ..́.I'͝ll s̨e͡e̷ ͜yo̶u ҉lat͠e͝r͢, San̵s͟.̛"

Sans nodded sleepily, then slipped back into unconsciousness.

⎰Present day⎱

Sans blew out a sigh. "and, well, the rest of the story's pretty simple from there. once i woke up, i headed out into the ruins, spent a couple weeks waiting for my eyes to heal, and learning to use my corrupt magic... and then i was sent out to go launch an assault on the pure base in waterfall. you know the rest of the story from there."

Gaster nodded slowly. He started to speak, then stopped. Started again, second guessed again. Eventually, he just reached out and pulled Sans into a hug.

Sans closed his eyes and leaned against Gaster.

"Sans..."

"...hm?"

"I- ... I'm sorry you had to go through that. And, thank you for telling me."

Sans nodded just a little. "just... don't ask me to tell it again."

Gaster hugged Sans just a little tighter. "Okay."

§

A/N

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, votes and comments are not only always welcome, but always appreciated, too!