The day after talking to Sans, a Tuesday, Papyrus got up in the morning, got dressed, made breakfast, same as usual. He packed his lunch in his backpack,  made sure again that he had not forgotten his homework, and left for school.

Papyrus did not like the conveyor belts that were used for transportation throughout Hotland, but he had to admit that they were a quite fast method of travel. He was entering New Home within a matter of minutes.

The quickness, thankfully, didn't give him the time to think much about Sans.

From there, it was only a matter of finding his way through the twist of New Home's streets. Papyrus was a fairly popular monster in New Home. Whether that was because everyone just liked him for the monster he was, or because he was the son of the Royal Scientist and brother of Commander Sans, or because of a mix of both reasons, it really didn't matter. Whichever it was, it made it relatively safe for him to travel alone through New Home, and he made his way quickly and easily through New Home to the school.

The school was a small building, squeezed between two other buildings of New Home. Papyrus arrived there just as Queen Toriel-- Ms. Toriel, as the class called her-- was unlocking the door. Frisk was at her side.

The human smiled when they saw Papyrus walking as briskly as his short legs would carry him. They tugged gently on Toriel's sleeve, and she turned to look.

"Oh! Good morning, Papyrus. How are you?"

"I-" Papyrus hesitated. He wanted to tell them about Sans, but...

If the people learn that their greatest hero was made into one of the Corrupt, they will lose even more hope than learning he was dead. Hope, Papyrus, is not something we can afford to take from our soldiers.

... But Gaster had impressed upon him the extreme importance of not telling anyone about Sans.

"I'm good." Papyrus stuffed down his desire to talk, and smiled just a little.

Frisk smiled back.

And from there, Papyrus managed to push Sans from his mind for the time being, and the day proceeded as usual.

~o0o~

When Papyrus got home, he immediately went to the lab, taking his homework along to do there.

He found Gaster at his workbench, doing something with several vials of chemicals, one of which appeared to be filled with the dark purple of Corrupt Magic. Sans was passed out on the cot, possibly sleeping off the effect of some drug Gaster had given him.

One thing Papyrus noticed with some curiosity was that Sans was wearing his purpley-blue jacket, and there was some sort of badge on the shoulder. It looked like a sort of dull yellow colored shield, outlined in black, with a black Soul set in the middle. A dark lizard-like, possibly draconian creature was curled around the side of the shield. Papyrus made a note to ask his brother about it when he was awake.

In the meantime, he found a mostly clear spot on Gaster's workbench, and started on his homework.

~o0o~

Sans woke slowly, amid much groaning. His head hurt.

After muttering a variety of curses in the Corrupt language, he sat up.

"hey. gaster. what did you give me and why is it making my head hurt so much?" Sans spoke briskly and authoritatively his tone commanding and demanding an answer.

Gaster looked up from whatever he was helping Papyrus with. Homework, Sans supposed.

"Is it making your head hurt? That's interesting. It's not supposed to do that. Maybe it has an adverse reaction to Corrupt Magic?"

Sans glared at Gaster. "i honestly don't really care to find out, especially if it involves using drugs on me."

Papyrus walked over and set a hand against the glass wall. "Are... are you alright?"

Sans turned his scathing gaze onto the smaller skeleton. "well, let's see here. my own dad now not only is knocking me out to study my soul, but is potentially going to knock me out just to see how a drug affects me. i'm stuck in this-- this fishtank, and whatever-it-is is dampening my magic to the point where i can't even summon half of an attack. on top of that, this fishtank is maintained by an enemy force. i also have a headache. oh, and don't forget that now i have to deal with stupid questions from a naive little idiot who thinks asking stupid questions will help me. so no, i am not alright."

Papyrus blinked, and Sans closed his eyes and smirked internally. He's having trouble processing all that. Good. The satisfaction lessened the pounding in his head just a little.

"What-..." Sans noted with satisfaction the way Papyrus flinched when Sans snapped his gaze back to him. Sans quietly hoped that that would be enough to deter whatever stupid question that was about to leave Papyrus's mouth.

It wasn't, unfortunately. "What about your eye?"

Sans blinked. "what about my eye?"

"Doesn't it... hurt? All cracked like that?"

For a moment, Sans just stared. Memories rose in the back of his mind. Terror. Fear. This was it, he was going to die. No, you wish for death, but you will not get it. Every bone felt like it was splintering. There was an enormous, agonizing pressure on his left eye. Now you begin to understand what pain is. Never going to see his family again...

"... no. it doesn't hurt." Not anymore, at least.

"Oh... Well, that's good, I guess!" Papyrus grinned at him. Sans just glared, his headache returning, full force.

He growled and pulled the hood of his jacket low over his eyes, flopping down on the cot, facing the wall, his back to Papyrus.

"Okay. Well, I still have homework to do."

So go do it! Sans screamed silently. Stop bothering me.

Thankfully, Papyrus seemed to get the message that he was not wanted, and didn't talk anymore.

Well.

Not for a while, at least.

Sans stayed curled up like that for a while, his headache slowly diminishing. And eventually, despite the clear indication that Sans did not want to talk to him, Papyrus asked another question.

"Hey, Sans?"

Sans growled, but otherwise didn't respond.

Unfortunately, Papyrus took that as a sign to continue. "What's that symbol on your jacket?"

Sans debated. He could tell Papyrus how it was the insignia of the Corrupt Army, how it would one day symbolize the ruler of the entire Underground, the entire world...

Or, he could just grunt.

He went with the latter option.

Gaster supplied the requested information to Papyrus, while Sans steadfastly ignored them.

It had to have been a few hours before anything else happened. Luckily, boredom was never a thing Sans had to deal with. He found that his mind worked best in that fine state where the body is still and the mind is in the crystal-clear calm of the verge of sleep. And getting into this state took time, which meant that Sans always had something to do instead of being bored.

He was just reaching this calm, blissful existence and beginning to sort through a number of inklings of escape plans, when he was jolted out of his reprieve by Papyrus's voice.

"Sans?"

Sans growled. How he had ever loved this irritating idiot, he couldn't fathom. Rolling over to glare at Papyrus, he practically shouted. "what?! can you not see that i have a headache and am in no mood to talk? are you always going to bother me with your questions?"

Papyrus hardly missed a beat, though, and smiled as if Sans had given him a warm and friendly greeting. "Oh! Well, if you don't want to talk, that's okay. Dad just sent back me down here to see if you wanted anything for dinner. Do you want anything for dinner?"

Sans noticed that the pair had apparently left the room at some point, and he hadn't noticed. He also was rather irked that, despite his efforts, Papyrus still seemed to think of him as the same loving, caring brother he used to be.

Still. Normally, Sans was just given one meal at the beginning of the day, and that was more than enough to sustain him. But dinner would be a welcome treat, and Sans suspected that it was more Papyrus had convinced Gaster to let him ask Sans about dinner.

So, finally, Sans let his shoulders slump and he sighed. "... fine. i'll have dinner."

Papyrus let out a happy NYEH-HEH-HEH!! which made Sans regret his choice even more.

After assuring Sans that he would be back soon with dinner (Sans didn't doubt it,) Papyrus raced away, still smiling and laughing. With a groan, Sans flopped back down and pulled his hood as low over his face as it would go.

~o0o~

Dinner wasn't actually all that bad. It wasn't especially great, what with being toaster waffles since neither Gaster nor Papyrus had remembered the time early enough to cook a proper dinner.

Still. It wasn't bad.

The bad part was where Gaster hadn't allowed Papyrus to give Sans his dinner himself, whereupon Sans made a comment about how he wouldn't have the time to strangle Papyrus to death before Gaster stopped him, since his Magic was being dampened and he couldn't just attack. Gaster had taken the suggestion of Papyrus's strangulation and death in general at Sans' hands rather seriously, however, and kept his guard up quite high even though there was no plausible way Sans could possibly get out of the cell and attack them.

Not that he didn't daydream about it.

He would have loved to wrap his hands around Papyrus's neck, feel the vertebrae crunch in his grip... Or maybe just snap off Papyrus's skull. That would work, too.

Whatever it would take to stop him from being so nice to Sans.

It wasn't that Sans didn't take advantage of every kindness Papyrus had to offer. It was more that Papyrus still, still thought of him as a friend. Even after days and days of Sans' insults, even threats. And they weren't hollow threats, either. Given the opportunity, Sans would break Papyrus's neck. He was pretty sure Papyrus knew this, too, but the small skeleton spent every possible second in the lab, talking to Sans when Sans would respond, or just sitting there if he wouldn't.

And he didn't leave when Gaster put Sans under anesthetics to do... whatever it was he thought might "cure" Sans. He stayed the whole time and waited for Sans to wake up.

And then, of course, he had to kindly ask how Sans felt, like some kind of blasted psychiatrist.

And Sans always responded with the same "stuck in a fishtank" spiel. And Sans told Papyrus how idiotic and naive he was every opportunity possible.

Again, though, it wasn't without it's benefits. Dinner became a regular thing, for starters, and more food meant more energy, perhaps enough to summon an attack or two eventually. And if Sans mentioned that a particular anesthetic left him feeling a certain way, then he would notice that Gaster would use that particular drug somewhat less, at Papyrus's insistence. So yes, Sans took advantage of Papyrus's naivety.

Sans made the best of his situation as he could. He would get out of there, and when he did...

There'd be hell to pay.

~o0o~

Today was a particularly irritating day for Sans, and the fact that Papyrus was at school at the moment only made it slightly less so.

Gaster had somehow concocted an experiment that involved Sans still being fully awake and aware throughout it. Of course, he didn't know this until it was far too late to protest.

And now he was on his back, shirtless and strapped down to the operating table, a wide array of sensors, wires, and IVs hooked up not only to his bones, but also directly to his dark antiSoul. There were also a copious number of them concentrated around his left eyesocket.

That, at least, was a small blessing. Sans had not used any Magic since his capture, and Gaster had not yet figured out that his old Magic- the Magic he used to channel through his left eye- was just as broken as the eye itself. And his left eye, both in its normal state and Magic-focusing state, was quite broken. In its Magic appearance, it wasn't just cracked but shattered, large gaps running between the larger fragments of it, with smaller slivers in between. Sure, he could hold enough Magic in it to make it glow, but he couldn't do anything else with it besides summon one or two pathetically broken attacks that did less than 1 HP of damage. And besides, it gave him a horrible headache to use it.

No, now he channeled his stronger Magic through his right eye, which, when in use, lit up like his left had, except a deepest, darkest purple that seemed to repel the light instead of give it off.

As was a result of his old Pure Magic being broken, so were all his old attacks, such as the Gaster Blasters and bones and Blue Magic and shortcuts. He couldn't use these. Now, though, he had a new arsenal of attacks at his fingertips-- when his Magic wasn't squashed down by whatever coated the walls of his fishtank. Firstly he had the basic two in every Corrupt monster's array. There were the Corrupt tendrils of Magic he could summon and use similar to the the way the Corrupt Commander had vines. Secondly was this Aura of Corruption. It choked the air with a Corrupt presence and sent terror into the Souls of the Pure. It crushed hopes and dreams, and replaced them with despair and nightmares. And a weapon that destroyed the enemy psychologically was very useful.

And then Sans had a number of attacks that came with the position of the Corrupt Army's prize weapon, but these were used much less often.

Of course, he had been very careful while in captivity, and not even given the barest hint of his new attacks. He had tried, only once, to summon an attack in the very beginning of his imprisonment, and not one powerful enough to light his eye. When he realized that there was something dampening his Magic, he had given up for the time being, careful to keep the extent of his abilities secret.

But still, Gaster knew he had to have some sort of Magic. He was Corrupt, and the Corrupt do not tolerate weakness.

So now he was strapped down to the table, fully conscious there for the first time since his capture.

"this is stupid." He said, not for the first time. "you're not gonna find anything you haven't found already, not without my help."

Gaster looked up from whatever he was holding - a clipboard or a tablet, Sans couldn't quite see from this angle - and glanced at Sans. "I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much." He looked back at the thin, flat object in his hand and poked at it. Definitely a tablet, then.

After a few more minutes, he looked back at Sans. "Can you summon an attack?"

Sans didn't hesitate with his answer. "no. the fishtank has more or less left me powerless, and if that wasn't enough, we both know these straps are magic-resistant."

"Well, then, try to summon an attack."

"no." Sans gave Gaster a defiant glare with his refusal.

"Why not?"

"because that would be helping you."

For a moment, Gaster just looked at Sans, a mixture of sorrow and pity on his cracked face. Then he turned away, set down the tablet, pulled the chair out from his workbench, and sat down beside the operating table, where Sans could see him considerably well.

"You know," he said quietly, "that I'm trying to help you, right?"

Sans stared at him. "if you were trying to help me, you would let me go back to my army, and then you would let us win the war."

Gaster shook his head sadly. "No. You misunderstand me. I'm not trying to help with the war. I'm not trying to help either side. I'm trying to help you." He tapped Sans once lightly on the sternum for emphasis, the purple-antilight from Sans' antiSoul casting his hand in strange shadows. "I just want my son back."

For the barest fraction of a second, Sans fell for it.

Then he snapped back to reality. Scowling, he growled, "you just want me to tell you all my secrets. you only want my information about the corrupt army. you want me to tell you how they do it, how they corrupt the soul. you want me to give you everything you need to destroy my allies. you only want to win the war."

Gaster looked... heartbroken. Hurt beyond measure.

Sans' grin was cold and emotionless.

And then there was the sound of a door opening, and Papyrus asked "What's going on?"

The pain slipped from Gaster's face, and he smiled at Papyrus. "Oh. You know. Sans is being uncooperative, as usual."

Papyrus's face appeared in Sans' view. He was smiling, as always. "Hi, Sans! You should listen to Dad! He'll help you."

Papyrus was looking at Sans, so he didn't see the brief flash of pain that crossed Gaster's face.

Sans did, though. "that" he said, letting the light fade from his eyesockets, "would not help my war."

§

A/N
As I'm writing this, I realize how tantalizingly close I am to having this chapter be three thousand words long, so excuse me while I continue on boringly to achieve the longest Wattpad chapter I have ever knowingly posted.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this, and remember, votes and comments are not only always welcome, but always appreciated, too!

...Awwww, only just 2999 words.