Chapter Text
“Do you believe in happy endings?” The child asked, popping into the void nursing a black eye and a broken arm.
It was their fight, Gaster noticed, if it could really be called such. Their third encounter seemed more accurate and their third loss. The child’s insistence on keeping the peace was honorable, in a rather ridiculous way. The world was dangerous. There was no space for such foolery. It was only a wish to die, repeatedly.
“Why do you not fight back?” he murmured, reaching out a hand. With a gentle push of magic, he nursed their wounds once again. It would only take a few seconds.
“You’ll see!” They chirped, bouncing back with a smile. As their wounds vanished, their spirit returned. “Everyone will.”
Gaster watched in silence as they disappeared from the void. A dismal black was all that remained of the bright child. Despite his doubts, he did hope the child would learn. Such hopeless optimism wasn’t healthy. There really was nothing else to it.
But the child did not learn. Time and time again, they returned to his distant dwelling. The rest of the world, they might have never gone there at all. Yet, each time he saw something new.
At one point, they came back with a little piece of pie. The aroma filled the void with warmth and sweetness of such he had not experienced in some time. They offered to share it with him.
Another time, they proudly displayed a twig with small bite marks all along the edge. It had been a fun game, according to the child. They cradled it happily as they had recounted the entire adventure.
Yet another time, they somehow found a tiny flower to button to their shirt. It was like some fancy ornament, one they would not explain. Still, they cherished it.
“Do you have friends?” they asked quietly, sporting a black eye.
“I did.”
Instantly, the child perked up. Leaning towards him, their eyes shone with something he couldn’t quite decipher. For a moment, it pushed back the void.
“What were they like?”
Pausing, Gaster tried to focus. He wasn’t really sure why, but he felt obliged to being bluntly and openly honest. Even so, he struggled to picture them exactly. He knew there had been multiple monsters he had called a friend at some point or another. All the same, only one face came to mind.
The soft orange glow burned into his mind. There was something there. A touch, a hug, a burbling in his chest. His face and chest hurt, but it was pleasant even as it burned his soul. He wanted it to never end.
“I bet they were the best!” the child interrupted his thoughts. “Were they cool with lots of fur? Did they play with cool magic stuff? I bet they loved puzzles!”
“They were,” he mumbled, mind focused more on clarifying his own mental image.
He could almost picture another one. This one was larger, warm but in a different way. The warmth wrapped around him, fluffing his mind and body all at once. It was like a place of safety, peace, and above all else, it was stronger than stone. His soul sang with the birds.
“Mister?”
Snapping out of it, Gaster blinked at the small child tugging at him. Their grin had gone. Instead, a look of intense concentration stared back at him.
“Yes?” he whispered.
“I have to go now, but I’ll come back.”
Their smile returned as fast as they disappeared.
He counted seconds as he waited for their return. It was one of the most interesting part of his life so far, at least as far as he wanted to dwell on. Between thinking of their little adventure, he couldn’t help but try and push his own memory. Sparks of fire, animated squeals, even overly adventurous pups popped into his mind from time to time. Even so, as soon as they arrived a hard pit settled in his soul. Had been and what ifs were no good for him here. There were no good for anyone anywhere. Things had changed. Those memories ate his soul moment to moment, a teasing reminder of a life he had to leave behind.
“I tried,” he mumbled into the void. “I tried to do the right thing.”
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He would never see those memories again, or the faces of the monsters that carved them so deeply into his existence. Every moment focusing on those things was simply another moment wasted in this prison of his.
When the child returned, as they inevitably had to, he frowned. Their wounds only grew more severe with each visit. They were holding on bravely, even almost cheerfully, as they chattered about every little monster in their path.
Silently, he wondered if they were too young to understand. The world was not there to be idealized. It was real and full of pain. Surely, they had experienced enough of that. That child needed to face the truth.
“They do not want to be your friend,” he chided, delicately putting bone fragments back together. This too would not take long, the void helped in that. “They want to be free.”
“I know.”
“You do?” he questioned.
“Yeah. They’re not ready. ”
“Then why not give up?”
“I want friends,” they hummed after a moment.
“Perhaps,” the old monster paused. “Perhaps, you could try for some other friends. I had once heard about these digital friends that go in one’s pocket and can do the battles for you.”
“No,” the child responded. “I want these friends.”
“But they do not want you.”
A bright smile stretched across the small face, their eyes shrinking beneath its prominence.
“I can wait. They’re worth it.”
“How do you know?” he pressed.
“Trust me,” they whispered.
Once again, they were gone. Gaster was alone.
It was temporary. It was always temporary with this child around. He really wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since he last experienced those the child battled. It was another of those irrelevant things that both burned and itched all the same. He wanted to know, to seek and understand. Yet, at the same time, he was wary. Things must have changed. Time and distance did that. Everyone moved on, if they were even alive.
The child, however, was different. They changed but were static all the same. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but it made his chest swell. There may be hope yet, if they had anything to do with it.
“I’m almost done,” the child chirped, wiping their sweat with a scrap of red Gaster hadn’t noticed before.
“You have decided to give up. Such a practi-“
“No!” they giggled. “You’re so silly.”
“Am I?”
“I’m gonna get everyone free.”
Their confidence shook him. Freedom. It wasn’t something so easy to give. It was a challenge to fathom what it meant in all practicality. It was to let go and walk away. It was to support from a distance. Freedom meant a great deal of options for failure. It always had a cost.
“And then what?” he pondered, more to himself than them. He could barely even believe his own trust they could find a way. Maybe they would. They seemed determined enough.
“We live happily ever after!”
“That is not how it works.”
“Of course it is! They get to be free and my friends and we’ll all be happy. Everyone gets what they want!”
Was it really that simple? Could everyone be happy? Gaster wasn’t sure he believed in that. The trials they must face required something beyond perfect happiness. Sometimes, happiness was not the answer. Sometimes, getting everything most wanted was a recipe for disaster.
“You can do it,” he mumbled, halfheartedly wondering why even bother while still hearing his words ring true. They could, but should they? Why did it require so much to even have a chance.
Monsters had made a good life for themselves. It wasn’t what they could have, but it was enough. They weren’t starving. They weren’t beaten and broken for their differences. Life could go on. Did things really have to change?
“For my friends,” the child beamed. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Even if it means losing them?”
“Whatever it takes. I made a promise!”
Again and again, they vanished only to return again. Again and again, they repeated their mantra. Whatever it took, it was for their friends. At some point, Gaster stopped even worrying. Things could work out, or they couldn’t. It was really none of his concern. The child’s determination set its own pathway, one he knew he could never follow.
Soon, their visits became filled with silence. Even as they failed more frequently, words were unnecessary. They were doing what they had to do. It was something he could respect. Still, the silence left him more time to think uncomfortable thoughts than anything else.
What if they succeeded? What if they failed? What did it even mean to do either?
He didn’t know. So lost in his own thoughts was he, Gaster barely even noticed a subtle shift in the void around him. Where once there was nothing as far as his mind could reach, walls unseen and forces unknown, things had gotten warmer. Spots paled. Areas solidified. Until, one day, he found himself staring at the most peculiar path of color in front of him.
They’d won. He almost couldn’t believe it. Gold dripped down from the sky, pushing back the nothingness. Slowly, monsters began to file out from below. Babbling filled the air. Electric smiles on almost every face. Gaster’s soul lurched at a flash of fur passing by. Reaching out, he froze to see a spark of fire pass on the other side. They had survived, all of them. Maybe, just maybe, it was their time.
He could almost hear the cheerful conversations passing him by. So much happiness, so much joy, tumbled into the daylight. If he just stretched a bit, he could feel the sun’s warmth. He could hear the chirping birds from long ago. The slightest breeze took his breath away. The kid had won. Everything was going to be okay.
“Do you believe in happy endings?” the void hissed, pulling him back.
“Wait!” he called. “Wait for me!”
There was no response as it all faded. They were leaving. Everyone’s back turned and he couldn’t even begin to call them back. In a blink, there was no one left. Cold darkness consumed his vision as he fell to his knees.
“Do you believe in happy endings?” the void demanded.
“I did,” Gaster sighed. “Once.”