Unrequited LOVE

•Chapter 24•

The first thing you registered upon waking up (for the second time, no less) was the near-blinding light shining in your face. The second thing was that you were strapped to a gurney.

The surrounding setup was just as shocking; pure white walls surrounded you on all sides while a tray of surgical equipment rested mere feet away. There was a row of cabinets pushed against the back wall, filled with thick medical books. All page-turners, you supposed.

Click.

You flinch when the door opens. In steps your kidnapper, dressed in an immaculate lab coat, pants, and turtleneck. In his hand lay a plastic clipboard.

"Ah, you're awake," he doesn't spare you a glance, walking over to the tray of instruments. After a second, he picks up a scalpel.

No no no no no no-

Your mind reels as you rattle your bonds, trying to escape. Finally, he looks at you. "Will you be quiet? I am trying to concentrate."

"On what?!" Your voice is loud, angry, with an undertone of fear. "Opening me up?!"

The look he gives you resembles that of an exasperated parent. "Don't be dramatic. Nothing of the sort will happen to you... yet."

Oh yes, very reassuring indeed. "Then... what are you going to do?"

At this point, you're genuinely curious of what he'll do. It's better than not knowing, at least.

"A simple blood test," he places the scalpel down and grabs a medium-sized packet from the tray, tearing it open. You watch apprehensively as he produces a needle, clear tube, and glass vial said packet. "Nothing crazy."

Well, it doesn't sound too terrible, but...

The way he says that really irks you, but you don't say anything. He grabs a tourniquet and wraps it around your upper arm. "To yield the best results, a tourniquet is necessary. It will be a minute before your veins properly distend."

...You have no idea what he just said. Damn medical lingo.

The firm dabbing of an alcohol wipe on your inner elbow tears you from your thoughts. You wince and turn your head away when he presses the needle in, a shiver wracking your pinned wings.

Breathe, (Y/n), breathe, you will yourself to take deep breaths. Your head hurts and your ears ring. It's alright...

No, It's not-

You barely register the skeleton removing the tourniquet and needle, placing an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball on the beading hole and wrapping it with stretchy gauze.

"There. You may open your eyes now," he instructs.

No way in hell. You refuse, keeping your eyes tightly screwed shut. A soft sigh reaches your cottony ears, as do his retreating footsteps.

"Do as you will. However, you will open them later."

Try me, bone bastard.

***

Nightmare was at his wits end. First, you'd been kidnapped by his lazier-counterpart's dad - which was both confusing and alarming, because 'gaster', according to Sans, should been dusted by now. Then, the search for you dragged on and on, sending almost everyone to the brink of insanity.

It was clear than nothing would improve until you were back. As much as he hated to admit it, you were the glue in this multiverse, peacefully connecting everyone.

And with you gone... the glue you left behind was cracking. Sans became depressed, Red shut everything out, Dream seemed to glow just a bit dimmer, Blue fidgeted constantly, Ink had basically disappeared in his quest to gather information, Horror's speech and actions reverted to a near-animalistic phase, and Dust and Killer sat around listlessly when they weren't patrolling.

In short, they really needed some fucking help.

It wasn't until one day, a few months after your capture, that they found something.

Your pocket.

***

Ink couldn't believe his luck when he, patrolling your neutral void for the third time that day, found your pocket. Somehow, it had returned to its original place, almost as if it'd never disappeared at all.

In a fit of nervous excitement, he'd summoned everyone to the location, proceeding to puke all over the ground while he awaited them.

Sure enough, everyone appeared, even Nightmare and his gang. They all entered the pocket, which reeked of negativity, and began searching. Minutes passed and there was nothing to be found.

The only thing of interest was, at Sans' information, Gaster's scent, which was a given.

"i knew that bastard had something to do with this," Sans near-snarled, hands fisting.

"I can sense a lot of negativity here," Dream added softly.

"HE SAID HE WAS LOOKING FOR HER," Blue mused worriedly. "MAYBE HE CAME HERE FIRST AND GOT MAD WHEN SHE WASN'T HOME."

"It would add up," Nightmare put in his two cents. "If he isn't here, then the question is 'where'?"

"...oh no," Ink said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at the tattoos skeleton.

"INK, IS EVERYTHING-"

"the anti-void. that's where he is. sans, you said he has the ability to dimension hop?"

At this realization, Sans sighed. "there isn't anything that bastard can't do when he puts his mind to it. there's a good chance you're right."

And so, Ink formed a portal to the anti-void, eyelights sparking with DETERMINATION. "what are we waiting for? let's go."

***

So much to write, so little time...