{Handplates chapter references: Hypothetically, Step it up already}

There was silence before Gaster could hear his own voice erupt from the recorder that was laid out on the table. It was laced with static and slightly muffled but he could clearly replay the events that happened on this tape:

"You can't just refuse to participate."

2-P glared at Gaster, putting his hands on the table to, rearing up slightly: "I DON'T WANT TO KILL ANYONE! I'M NOT GOING TO PUSH EITHER BUTTON!"

Gaster was clearly frustrated with 2-P's behavior but he tried to remain calm: "The point of the question is that that's not an option."

"YES IT IS!"

"You have to kill someone. That's why it's a difficult choice-"

"NO I DON'T! THERE'S ALWAYS ANOTHER WAY! I'D FIND ANOTHER WAY!"

Gaster hated how this enthusiasm and determination made him think of how he was before the War.
Before everything went so horribly wrong and got plagued by nightmares, guilt and trauma ever since.

"You can't answer every hypothetical...", Gaster sighed and put his head on his hand. This conversation was giving him a headache.
"This is a waste of time. You're never going to learn. You just refuse to deal with the real world."

2-P frowned: "THAT'S NOT WHAT THE REAL WORLD IS LIKE."

This confidence surprised Gaster. "How would you know?"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT. I JUST KNOW IT."

"Do you?"

It was fair for 2-P to assume that the world is indeed like this.
That there is only one right and wrong and the choices are always clear and...good.

Such childish thinking was probably justified considering he had a child sitting in front of him. The truth was, everyone thinks that way.

Until the world decides to show its true colors and you are thrown into an impossible situation. Not knowing where to turn, what the consequences could be.

Suddenly the world isn't just right or wrong anymore, black or white – suddenly you find that there are many shades of gray and all of them bring their benefits, and their consequences.

One desperately tries to navigate through this maze, trying to find the best outcome for oneself but also for others.

But in this world, you can't make everyone happy.

You can't save them all.

And Gaster had learned that over and over again. He refused to give up on his beliefs, that there could be a different way.
That if he just waited long enough, a different way would miraculously appear in front of him and no one would get hurt.

No one would die.

But this patient waiting was actually hesitation, a refusal to act.
And his hesitation got people killed.

He had so many chances to react, but he always waited.

Eventually, he gave up on this ambition.

Life had thrown way too many situations at him to show him that conquering life isn't as easy as he assumed.

And now he had all these ridiculous and foolish beliefs embodied by the small skeleton in front of him, who just as stubbornly refused to give in and attempted to find a different way.

Gaster sat up: "Alright then, here is the next hypothetical."

Gaster mentally braces himself as he puts out this new hypothetical, trying to disconnect it from himself as much as he could but he could not help the curiosity that rose inside of him.

What would he have done in his stead?

"There is a young skeleton. Maybe he's around your age. He believes in peace just like you do.
Then there is a war. Humans against monsters.
All the skeleton's friends are fighting. His fam- His brothers are fighting.
But he is not. He doesn't want to kill anyone.
His brothers are fighting, and they are losing.
He does not fight. They die. They all die."

It was difficult for Gaster to retell these events, the guilt rising in him once again.

He tapped the surface of the desk, his fingers trembling as he continued to talk: "If he had fought, he could have saved them. But he did not. In hurting no one, everyone suffered."

Gaster desperately tried to keep his voice steady as he proceeded to talk, it felt like there was a lump in his throat – and he didn't even have one.
His chest ached with every small breath he took, his eyes lingering on 2-P.

2-P looked back at him, tears in his eyes and looking shocked: "Now do you understand? Sometimes you have no choice. That's why-"

"THAT POOR SKELETON."

It was like a blow to his heart as Gaster heard these words, but he tried to stay calm. "...what?" His voice quivered.

"THAT SKELETON, I FEEL BAD FOR HIM."

Gaster scrunched up his face in confusion. Did 2-P misunderstand him? Why did he feel bad for..?

"Why? He got the people he loved killed."

2-P immediately protested: "NO HE DIDN'T! THAT WASN'T HIS FAULT!"

Another blow to his heart. He heard you say that to him so many times, but it's been so long, he almost forgot.

God, how he misses you...

Gaster shook that thought off, focusing on 2-P and trying to justify his own feelings and view almost desperately: "How was it not his fault? He could have done something, and he didn't. How are those deaths not a direct result of his actions?"

Was it more about this hypothetical skeleton or himself at this point? Gaster wasn't too sure anymore.

He tried to defend himself, the voices in his head practically speaking for him as he continued to subconsciously blame himself.

If it wasn't his fault, whose was it? It was the only logical explanation.

But 2-P persisted: "BECAUSE HE WASN'T THE ONE WHO KILLED THEM! THE HUMANS DID! THE SKELETON JUST WANTED TO BE FRIENDS."

Friends...He became friends with one, but sadly too late.
Maybe if circumstances were different, they could have been friends much sooner. They could have proved that living together and in harmony was possible.

Hell, she was the best example for this. But they were both so young, just children. No one could have known or prepared them.

"He could have stopped the humans if he tried."

"NO HE COULDN'T, YOU SAID HUMANS WERE A HUNDRED TIMES STRONGER THAN US. IF THE SKELETON FOUGHT IT WOULDN'T HAVE CHANGED ANYTHING, HE WOULD'VE DIED TOO!"

This immediately silenced Gaster and he looked at 2-P with stunned disbelief.

Again, something you could have said. How are there so many similarities between him and you..? It was almost painful.

2-P was momentarily caught off guard by that strange expression on Gaster's face and reeled back slightly from his outburst: "AND...AND I BET HIS BROTHERS WOULD BE HAPPY HE STAYED ALIVE! EVEN IF THEY DIED."

Gaster averted his eyes, his body trembling violently but he tried to hide it from 2-P.

What he said left him speechless.

Maybe there was truth in it but- it's his fault isn't it? No one would be happy he's still alive. He –

"You are not to blame, Gaster...", she said to him and placed a hand on his back. The warmth of her palm was strangely soothing, giving him a sense of comfort that made him feel better. Gaster flinched slightly but relaxed again quickly, savoring the comfort he found in her.

"Your family would be happy to see you alive. And I am also happy that I got to save you. I wouldn't have done it any differently."

Gaster sighed, trying to push that memory away and focus on the argument: "Th...they would have been happier if they'd survived, if he'd had the strength to fight, it's his fault they're-"

"IT'S NOT HIS FAULT."

2-P didn't even give him the chance to finish his thoughts, to fuel his doubts. It was like he momentarily calmed down the voices in his head, if only for a mere second.

"It IS his fault-"

"NO IT'S NOT, HE DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO FIGHT! THE HUMANS WHO KILLED PEOPLE, THE HUMANS WERE THE ONES WHO PUT HIM IN THAT SITUATION IN THE FIRST PLACE-" Gaster flinched slightly, lifting his hands to inspect his trembling.

He felt himself fade in and out of consciousness, his heart thudding wildly in his chest as panic started to overwhelm him.
It was as if Gaster's entire world was shattering, all his beliefs falling apart.

"You don't- if he'd- if- through his inaction- he might as well have killed them, if he'd-", Gaster was unable to voice a coherent thought, his voice breaking off and his mind struggling to comprehend the intense feelings that were stirring inside of him.

Why?

Why did his words have to affect him that bad?

He suddenly had the urge to run. To just hide at home and hide under the covers and never leave the bed again.

Gaster thought about you once again. He really wanted to be close to you now. Nuzzle into your chest, feel your arms around him and breathe in your calming scent.

You are the only one who can make all this stop.
Who can bring him back.

Gaster's bones rattled as he continued to tremble but 2-P did not seem to notice since he was too focused on bringing across his own arguments: "IF THE HUMANS KILLED HIS BROTHERS, THEN IT'S THEIR FAULT! THEY'RE THE ONES WHO CHOSE TO HURT SOMEONE! IT'S NOT- IT'S NOT FAIR TO GET MAD AT THE SKELETON FOR NOT FIGHTING! HE COULDN'T HAVE DONE ANYTHING EVEN IF HE DID! IT'S NOT HIS-"

Gaster couldn't take it anymore.

He abruptly got off his chair, slamming his balled fist on the table: "It IS his fault! It HAS to be!!!"

The recorder jumped from the impact and 2-P flinched away, his eyes full of fear as he looked at Gaster.

Gaster immediately felt guilty, the anger quickly dying down again and he calmed his breathing.

Nothing was said for a couple of seconds. He had gone too far.

"...Don't look at me like that. We're done for today."

The tape player clicked as the recording ended and silence filled the room. Gaster sat at his desk, his head resting on the table.

His mind felt empty but also as if it was screaming at him. These children...it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain distance to them.

How do they always get to him like this?
Why was 2-P so much like you?
Was that the reason why it was so hard?

He could never lie to you back then. At least after you had somehow managed to break down his walls and became his friend, his lover. His support pillar.

Gaster sighed and closed his eyes: "Is that you speaking through him, my love..?
Or am I simply just losing my mind..?"

.

.

.

4 am. Only the quiet humming of the machinery rang through the otherwise silent room as Gaster put together a couple of hotdogs and chips.

It wasn't exactly the healthiest food combination, but he did not find the strength to do anything that required actual cooking.

His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he headed to the cell of the two brothers.

Once Gaster arrived, he unlocked the cell and entered it, placing the plate with the food on the ground for the brothers to eat when they wake up.

You immediately noticed his presence, frowning slightly because you worried.
It was so late, has he been working on things until now? Is he taking breaks?

And most importantly, is he taking enough care of the children? It would be horrible if they ended up starving just because he was so occupied in his work.

The sudden flicker of a blue light caused Gaster to look up and he saw 1-S sitting on the bunk bed, his brother sleeping on his lap.
His eye glowed gently in the dark, the other one was covered with a patch.

Gaster decided to not be bothered and got up, giving 1-S one last glance before heading towards the door.

"you know..."

Gaster stopped as 1-S spoke up quietly.

"you always go, 'people need me to do this, people need me to be like this.', so what it sounds like is that you don't have a choice about doin all this to us, right?"

Gaster didn't dare to turn to him, just quietly listening to what he had to say: "but you know...my brother, you control everything that happens to him, all day every day. but he still chooses to believe in you, that you can change. and he chooses...to believe in me. and to be kind, and to care."

A small, genuine smile formed on 1-S's face as he looked down at his brother, rubbing his skull in small motions.

1-S had heard from his brother what happened during this interrogation session, how Gaster almost broke down.

It made 1-S decide to try one last time. To reach out to him...and maybe, hopefully grasp that little good that is still inside of Gaster.
That 2-P seems to see in him despite everything.

"every day he makes that choice, no matter what you do to him. and me, every day I choose to keep going...for him."

1-S's fingers cramped up slightly, but he tried not to disturb 2-P's sleep or hurt him as he continued to rest his hand on his skull: "we're never getting out of here, we're never gonna have any control over anything that happens to us...but, we still make choices."

Gaster slowly turned his head towards 1-S, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Was 1-S breaking through? He couldn't tell for sure.

"yet somehow you out there, on the other side of the beams...you want me to believe you got less freedom than us?"

1-S let this question linger in the air for a moment, studying Gaster's reaction closely: "cause you don't. you've got choices. you're just not strong enough to make them."

Gaster's head lowered and he turned away fully from 1-S. He hesitated, repeating 1-S's words in his mind. Perhaps he was right.

Perhaps he was a coward. As always.

He thought he was the strong one for making these decisions but...is it the same all over again?
Is he just repeating his old mistakes?

A strange tingle in his hand made him flinch slightly and he looked down to his hand. There was nothing but for a moment, he swore he felt a connection.
Something familiar and warm, gentle.

You looked up at him, holding his hand.
A little surprised that he seemed to react, your eyes widened.

"G...", you breathe out but he took a hesitant step forward, your hand sliding out of his.

"Gaster...", you called out for him quietly, a small pain lingering in your chest as you watched him walk away, his head lowered, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

1-S watched that interaction between you and him closely. He spoke more to himself than to you, considering you couldn't understand him anyway.

Your back was turned to him, and he observed your figure with a hint of suspicion but also understanding:

"you guys are close to each other. is that it?"