A/N: Wow, guys, it's been a long time since I've written anything that was fanfiction related! I feel like a kid again! Anyway, Undertale has inspired so much creativity that's it's spilling over in all of the aspects of my life (creativity should really have it's own heart color). I really hope you enjoy this aspect and I'll try to keep this a constant thing of at least one chapter a week. For now, enjoy Chapter 1!

Chapter 1

Final Preparations

Conversation had died down hours ago and the other assistants had been released for the day. Even eager Alphys eventually had to call it a day. This could all wait until tomorrow to be finished up right. At least that what she said as she kept checking her cell phone for the time. She was late already to catch the first two hours of the newest anime trash she'd found by hacking into the frequency boosters.

'She really is a smart and resourceful kid.' Dr. W. D. Gaster thought to himself as he and his final remaining assistant traversed the hallway, set on getting the last bit of inventory documented before calling it a night themselves, 'Alphys has a lot of potential. It's just too bad all of her projects are such . . . a complete waste of time.'

As Gaster and his only remaining assistant made their way through the final hallway, the clicking of their shoes on the tile kept the time, monitoring their progress and resonating with every step. The ricocheting echoes was a haunting reminder of just how desolate the place could be. Here in the lowest sub-basement, down the longest hallway, heading for a room located in the furthest reaches of the laboratory, a certain unshakable chill seemed to hover about them and both scientists knew already there would be no release from the icy grip until they could make it back to one of the main rooms of the topmost level. For now, they had to press onward. There was still work to do.

Beside him, the doctor could hear his apprentice release a deep sigh and couldn't help but wonder if he was just tired or if that sigh was an unconscious release of pent-up frustration. The apprentice was normally a quiet person who rarely spoke unless he was directly addressed. He almost never took notes during lab experiments, but still managed to somehow retain just about everything and quickly come to solutions before any of the other assistants. Sometimes he would come to conclusions before Gaster himself and he would often be right. Gaster could almost always tell by his assistant's expression when he was on the verge of some breakthrough, but even then, he would remain silent until asked to speak.

Today, however, he seemed sluggish, crestfallen even. Being the diligent pupil he was, however, he kept step with Gaster even when everyone else had opted to leave. This put the doctor in a strange predicament. Gaster knew what could happen when this particular assistant was alone with his thoughts for too long, especially when he was in a mood like this. And seeing that there was no one else around, it was on Gaster to cheer him up before he started doing that. The doctor refused to let it get to that state.

"So," Gaster began obviously trying to fill the corridor with sound and offer a break from the haunting silence, "After this final room, inventory will be complete, so you can head home if you like. I will expect you and the others back early for Spring Cleaning. For now, why don't you get some rest? It wouldn't be good if you came in unable to focus. In fact, it would probably end most disastrously for you in particular."

The assistant shrugged with both hands in his pockets and his clipboard pinned to his side by his elbow. "Eh . . ." was his only response.

So that meant he was going to stay until inventory was done and everything had been cataloged then? Odd. As diligent as he was, Gaster had never known this assistant to pass on an opportunity to slip away early if he could. Okay, something was definitely off about him today. Again, this put Gaster in a tough spot. Should he ignore the odd behavior and deal with the awkward air settling in like a thick layer of smoke, or should he ask about it and risk that?

With a mixture of trepidation, pity and sheer curiosity, Gaster began again. "So, um . . ."

"We're here." The apprentice said at the same time. "Thank God." He added under his breath.

Those were Gaster's thoughts exactly. Finally, something else to occupy time. Reaching up for the keycard at his lapel, Gaster approached the door and swiped the magnetic strip of his badge through the reader which had been waiting patiently to be used. As if delighted by the bit of work it got to do, the tiny machine chirped and the lock of the door granted access with a resounding click.

No matter how many times he did it, the heaviness of these storage doors always took Gaster by surprise. It took more effort than he cared to admit to get the door open with enough light to see. The apprentice on the other hand, seemed to have no problem shoving his door open and he leaned against the door frame with his eyes lowered while Gaster quickly surveyed the contents of the room.

Really, there was not a whole lot in the room except for a few boxes, some broken equipment, a failed experiment, and an excessive amount of empty space. Shooting a look at his assistant, Gaster came to a snap decision.

"How about I leave this room to you?" He suggested as he lowered his clipboard and turned his back on the contents of the room. "I am about 90% certain that this room is filled with junk and a few duds, so it shouldn't take you very long. Just log the salvageable contents, and put your report on my desk before you head to bed. If you need me, I'll be sorting out the logs we have already completed and dividing up the workload for tomorrow."

The assistant snapped his head up toward Gaster with a look of a child being punished by being told to do some horrible chore.

"You chose to stay." Gaster reminded.

The assistant let out another sigh, unable to argue with the truth. He nodded in defeat.

"Like I said," the doctor reiterated as he began to make his way back through the long corridor, "It won't take you very long. Good work today and I will see you in the morning."

"Night." The assistant groaned.

Gaster stopped walking for a moment to turn back and address the dreary monster. "Cheer up, Sans." He instructed with his own forced smile in place, "By this time tomorrow, we should be finished with Spring Cleaning and we will be able to continue on our current projects. I know it's tedious, but it is necessary if we don't want to be up to our eye sockets with duds and failed experiments.

The assistant, looking over his shoulder, shrugged once again and a bit of his normal smile was back in place. As cheap and as inauthentic as it was, it was much better than the lifeless expression he'd donned earlier. What worried Gaster most was that this kind of thing was becoming more and more of a common occurrence to the point that he and the others were beginning to take notice and even worry a bit about their colleague.

Come to think of it, the doctor could count how many times he had seen Sans genuinely happy on one hand without using all of his fingers. For the most part, Sans would draw attention away from himself by making jokes and keeping a constant grin in place. Gaster believed he did this strictly for the benefit of those around him. Not for the first time, Gaster wondered what in the world was going on that prevented him from feeling any happiness for himself.

No, that was the wrong question. The real question he wanted to ask was why did he care so much about how Sans felt? What benefit did that offer? It wasn't as if Sans' feelings would help with the almost literal 'breakthrough' he was searching for. In fact, they might even be holding them all back. So why even bother? As long as Sans did his job, that's all that mattered. Right? That's all he should care about. Right?

Wrong. The truth was, ever since Sans first appeared, stumbling and delirious from the scorching maze of Hotland, Gaster had taken a bit of a liking to the boy. When he found him, Sans was in such a bad state that Gaster took him in without a second thought. If he had not been out doing detail work on the newly finished Core reactor, Sans might not have made it out alive. His body almost completely gave out on him and Gaster had to carry him piggy-back style to the lab and out of the heat.

After a day or so, some water, some sleep and a good meal, Sans seemed to be doing much better. It was the first of the very few times Gaster had seen him smile. He seemed embarrassed about how he was found and the state he was in and he tried to cover it up with terrible puns, but he was grateful for Gaster all the same and he thanked him. It was the longest speech Sans had ever given.

When Gaster began to ask questions of the boy, however, questions about where he had come from; why he was out near the core; if he had anywhere to go, the light left his eyes immediately and he nearly shut off completely. Gaster could see that those subjects were particularly unpleasant and even painful to him, so he let them be. He had been able to gather, however that Sans was without a home and had been wandering the Underground alone for quite some time. At the time, Gaster was completely alone at the lab and was beginning to become overwhelmed with his workload, so he offered Sans a job as his administrative assistant and even offered to turn one of the empty rooms into a bedroom for him.

That was the second time he saw Sans smile.

It was shortly after that Gaster discovered Sans' love for the sciences and a kindred soul in his assistant. When Gaster allowed Sans to work on projects with him, he found that Sans needed little direction or explanation and relied very seldom on his instruction. It turns out Gaster had found more than just a paper pusher or even just a lab assistant in Sans. He had found a friend. No, not that either. A brother? A son? He had found family in Sans.

Maybe that's why it hurt so deeply to see him in the state he was in now. His smile was faded and his eyes were dull, almost completely blackened, and his HP* was suffering as well. When last they CHECKED, his Max HP had dropped below double digits and Gaster was beginning to worry. If this kept up, it could even drop to '1' and then there would be nothing he could do to help him turn it around.

'Maybe this is what he needs.' Gaster thought to himself as he regarded Sans again leaning against the door frame, 'A distraction. A break from the everyday hum and drum.'

"I'll trust you to be thorough." Gaster began again as he peeled himself away and began again down the corridor. "And I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure thing." Sans answered.

Hours later, Sans was still going through boxes and cataloging the contents, separating the salvageable items and putting them in an opposite corner to make it easier in the morning. Really, it shouldn't have taken this long, but he just hadn't been feeling himself lately.

He could feel the looks Gaster and the others gave him and it was honestly starting to irritate him. No, he wasn't sick . . . not physically anyway. And no, there wasn't anything in his personal life that was affecting him. He didn't think so at least.

It's just that recently, he hadn't felt like he was accomplishing much of anything. Like he was stuck with nowhere to go and no HOPE of anything changing any time soon. In fact, when he and Gaster last CHECKED, Sans' HP levels had dropped below '10' and had settled squarely at a '6'. He had to admit that the reading shocked even him. Gaster, though, seemed a little more appropriately shaken by it. It didn't help matters at all that Gaster had been keeping an even closer eye on him as if he'd fall over and turn to dust at any given second . . . Heh, which wouldn't have happened anyway.

And really, he was getting sick of people asking about it and answering the same questions from the same people or even the same questions from different people. His go-to answer had quickly become "If there were something wrong, trust me, you'd know." He supposed that was part of the curse of having a face like his. People expected him to be smiling 24/7 and that just wasn't possible anymore.

Sans closed off one of the final boxes a little more harshly than he'd meant to and ended up tearing off one of the cardboard flaps in the process. He took a deep breath and a few steps backward. Maybe he did need a bit of a break. Just a few minutes to rest and then he'd finish the last corner. Two boxes. He could handle that.

Taking those couple steps backward, something else caught his eye, a glimmer in the dimming lights. Sans had to squint to see and what he found nearly knocked him flat on his back.

"Wh-who the heck . . . ? Who are you!?"

End of Chapter 1:

So, what did you think? I know Sans is a little O.O.C. but that's how I meant for it to be. Believe me, it's for a good reason. I've got a lot of ideas I wanna work into this story, so I hope you'll bear with me as I work to get them out.

Originally, this started off as a storyboard/ web comic idea, but I decided I'm a better writer than I am an artist. Who knows. Maybe I'll still post this first chapter in comic form. If I do, I'll link it here and I'll let you know.

*I wish I could take credit for the HP = HOPE thing, but I can't. That concept was created by draconym on Tumblr and the idea was so awesome that I had to borrow it!

Welp, that's it for now, I'll see you in Chapter 2 in which we find out just what Sans saw in the shadows.