PLOT: Gaster has been ripped from the void after Alphys tries to bring him back, but he ended up in the overworld. He was confused and alone in this strange human world, until he meets an abused, agender teenager named Frisk. Together, they might be able to put an end to both of their problems and perhaps, even find a friend in each other.

This isn't a pairing story, it's more like a father-child kind of thing.

As you can see, I'm taking a break from most of my other stories for a while.

Warnings for abuse, violence, swearing, and mentions of suicide and depression in later chapters. Agender Frisk.

Sorry, but I can't type in Wingdings so I just put whatever Gaster was saying in lEtTeRs LiKe ThIs if Frisk can't understand him. Later on, when they begin to understand him, It will change into normal text.

Frisk rubbed their hands together nervously, their gaze rapidly shifting from corner to corner of the darkened streets as they picked up their walking pace on their short trek from their school to their dormroom. The teenager had been warned by one of their acquaintances that several of their cruel tormentors from the high school were going to jump them, so they stayed until the current late hour, approximately five o'clock at night, doing homework and assisting a teacher with organizing a classroom.

Frisk glanced over their shoulder, nearly hyperventilating. They were more than scared by the threat of being attacked by bullies when they were in such a defenseless state, and wouldn't put it past the awful group to go as far as kill them. So far there had only been things like broken fingers, bruises, scratches, and scars… but it was a fear of theirs that the amount of damage they were inflicting on Frisk's body during the attacks was elevating.

They heaved a heavy, shaky sigh, trying desperately to fight off the panic they felt. It was too late for them to still be hunting for them, wasn't it? It's not like they were worth anything.

It's not like Frisk was worth the time it would take to kill.

Frisk swung their backpack over their shoulder and continued walking, still peeking into every alleyway and window just in case they were a target. Suddenly, a loud gurgling sound interrupted the paranoia inducing silence and they stiffened, freezing as if a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

The teenager started to shake, and slowly turned their head towards the direction of the noise, anticipating one or more of their numerous oppressors to jump out at them. But, instead… there was a tall man leaning heavily against one of the brick walls that formed the alleyway, dressed in a long, black coat that met the ground and gave the illusion he didn't have legs. His extremely pale, white-looking face tilted downwards, a shadow covering most of the visible portions of his face, including his eyes and mouth.

Frisk, though not letting their guard down completely, relaxed a little. "Sir…? A-are you alright?"

The strange man jolted, head lifting swiftly and suddenly, revealing that this… this thing was certainly no human. A skeletal face, with cold, lifeless eye sockets where it's eyes should have been. One long crack trailed from the corner of it's face to it's right eye, and another connected it's left eye to it's misshapen mouth. It wore a saddened, agonized smile, that faltered at the sight of Frisk.

Frisk's eyes went wide, and they instinctively let out a high pitched cross between a scream and a whimper, stumbling backwards.

The skeletal creature opened its mouth and let out a string of strange mumblings that varied in pitches from extremely deep to high enough to shatter glass and eardrums. It was some strange, hideous yet entrancing language Frisk had never heard before.

Frisk felt as if they were glued to the ground from a combination of crippling fear and a strong, humanlike desire to find out what this was, be it man or beast. Although the instinctual urge to flee the scene was fierce, they couldn't move out of fear it would spring onto them.

The creature took a shambling step forward, keeping most of its weight pressed against the wall.

"DoN't bE aFrAiD oF mE…"

"I- I can't understand you!"

"HeAr Me OuT, pLeAsE… i'M fAr FrOm WhErE i BeLoNg…"

"What are you?! Why are you hear?!" Frisk finally tempted their legs to move and took a wobbly step back, narrowly avoiding tripping over their own two feet.

"I bRiNg wItH mE nO hArM," The creature leaned down to match Frisk's height, seeming to have trouble in doing so, or rather, seeming to have trouble with any movement at all. Even though the screeching language it spoke in was horridly amazing, it was obvious it's tone was gentle. Though it stood at least five feet away from Frisk, they could make out all the various details in its face, even in the painted darkness.

"P-please… leave me alone…" Frisk's voice quieted and their fingers clutched tighter around the strap of their backpack, as if it would protect them from danger.

The skeleton like being seemed to understand the teenager's plea and shrunk back, watching as they turned and walked away, limbs shaking. Though… after Frisk had reached about fifteen feet away from it, it started to limp towards them, following them like a sick puppy. A sick, gigantic, skeletal puppy in a coat that was blacker than the night itself.

Frisk knew it was following them, based on the occasional gurgle of noise coming from behind them and clutched their backpack tighter. The creature eventually managed to pick up its pace, though its face bore an expression of pain, caught up to Frisk and towered over them by at least two heads.

Frisk kept their gaze directed in front of them, as the skeleton walked beside them, watching them intently with eerie, empty eye sockets.

The teen was relieved when they finally made it to their home, and dashed up their porch steps, opening the door and throwing themselves and their backpack inside. The creature followed, daintily stepping over the misshapen doorframe, far too short for it to casually walk through. It looked around curiously.

"O-oh no, no no, you don't need to come in here!" Frisk insisted shakily, leaving the satchel on the ground and scrambling to the opposite end of the room.

That was when the creature mumbled something quieter, hands moving to make strange motions that presumably were a part of its language. "KeEp An OpEn MiNd…"

Those signs it was making… looked strangely familiar. That was it- it was sign language! Though the vocalizations were undecipherable, perhaps these signs were. Frisk slowly reached into their pocket and withdrew their phone, keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the creature.

Seeming to brighten, it started to sign slow letters that took Frisk even longer to decode.

"G...a...s...t...e...r…? Is that your name?"

Gaster's back straightened and he motioned to himself, nodding. "WhAt Is YoUr NaMe, YoUnG cHiLd?"

"I-I'm sorry… I don't speak your language…"

Gaster frowned, and quickly signed something Frisk couldn't read.

"I… i don't speak sign language either, I'm sorry… it will take too long to look up, too…"

The skeleton reached out and gingerly lifted the phone from Frisk's hands (whom of which said or did nothing about it) and typed something with an bony, pointed, shaking finger. He pointed the screen towards Frisk.

Sorry I scared you, need help, named Gaster. You?

"Wait, can you understand me?" Frisk asked, ignoring Gaster's inquiry and asking a question of their own. As a response, Gaster made a 'small' symbol with his fingers and nodded. He motioned towards the screen again.

"M-my name? W-well… my name is Frisk…" They took a deep breath and tried to discretely step back. "Why… why are you here…? You aren't here to hurt m-me or anyone else, right?"

Gaster seemed to flinch, and turned to the phone once again, typing in, "I wish I could say I wouldn't have to harm anyone," and setting the phone down on the nearby countertop. He turned towards Frisk. "FoRgIvE mE fOr ThIs, FrIsK…" he said quietly in that strange language of his. "I'vE mAdE iT tHiS fAr, AnD i HaVe A fAmIlY tO gEt BaCk To… I'm NoT sToPpInG nOw."

With that, Gaster lunged forward. He was so much more frightening now, and time seemed to pause, allowing Frisk their final few moments on this earth to analyze what was happening.

The skeleton didn't look angry, not in the slightest. He looked almost saddened by what he was doing, though the teenager didn't know of his motives. His eye sockets, though vacant of eyes, were full of expression; a pitiful, regretful expression contorting his skeletal features.

Frisk let out a scream as they were shoved roughly to the ground, gasping out as the wind was knocked out of them. "I'm So sOrRy, FrIsK… yOu SeEmEd LiKe A nIcE cHiLd…" he took a moment to stare at them, as if preparing to mourn and contemplating what he was doing. "I'lL tRy To MaKe ThIs PaInLeSs…" He gave a gentle pat to Frisk's shoulder and bowed his head, who writhed, frightened, under him.

It was Gaster's turn to gasp out in pain. When he had let his guard down to apologize to Frisk, they had shoved him off of them and slammed his skull against the bottom of the counter, a sickening cracking sound signalling something had been shattered inside of him. His body convulsed in pure agony.

Frisk trembled and got to their feet, unsure of what to do. They had just been attacked by a strange skeleton that had a remarkable resemblance to a demon that had seemed almost kindly at first… how was one supposed to react to a situation like this?

Gaster clutched his head with one hands, going nearly limp on the floor, the other of his bony hands reaching out and grabbed Frisk's ankle, squeezing hard. Reflexively, Frisk squealed, frightened, and kicked the man where his ribcage was through his coat.

The man went completely limp, letting out another soft gurgle of noise before slipping into a state of unconsciousness.

Frisk shivered, covering their face with their hands. This was too much to take in… their head was spinning, cluttered with thoughts of sheer terror and contemplations about what had just went on. They slid to their knees, hands sinking to their sides, as they continued trying to look anywhere but at the cracked, mangled face of W. D. Gaster.