the absurdity of life [Undertale]

in which the fish and the skeleton go to a party

The building was large and relatively plain, but the massive, wooden front door was grandiose in every way. Undyne turned to Sans.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"It's an upscale party for the Underground's greatest scientists, supposedly." Sans grinned. "I'm not sure how I fit into all of this...but let's go in. The humidity right now is too much for me in this stupid suit..."

Undyne pulled the laughably large door open. Sans, all dressed up in a tailcoat and everything, sauntered in. Undyne herself was displaying a long, red, one-shoulder gown. She prepared herself for having to explain non-stop that she was not Sans's girlfriend or wife or significant other. They co-owned an apartment that they lived in, together, but they were only very close friends. They slept in the same bed, but it was a king-size, and Sans had used his full genius to sew a wall of pillows into the mattress. Purely platonic. With Sans's arm in hers, though, they did certainly seem affectionate with each other.

The ballroom was reminiscent of Versailles, of a time of opulence laughing at poverty, and while the two admired the beautify of the space, it was slightly sickening. Under a large, gaudy chandelier sat a decently-sized dance floor. At that point everyone was still standing near the entrance, giving their formal greetings. Sans and Undyne were not skilled at the art of cultured conversation. They were used to casual chatting, at bars, over the back of a sofa. To Papyrus. To each other. Both were more than intelligent enough to have an intellectual exchange. However, formal conversation is littered with rules and faux pas. It took an immense amount of focus for Sans to not break out in puns, for Undyne to not yell and hit her chest, displaying her bravado.

Everyone wanted to talk to Sans, and Undyne by extension. They wanted to know what Sans was working on, how long he had been married, what had happened to his father. Sans tried to signal to Undyne that he needed help in shooing away people who asked questions about the past, but she was too busy genuinely enjoying herself. Being called beautiful was a rare occasion for her, and she realized that sometimes it's nice to feel like a woman. She may never be a wife or mother, but at least she could spend a night out talking to women equally confused about husbands' work. Even if Sans was not Undyne's husband.

Sans was stuck talking about his father, his childhood, the experiments, working with Alphys, his brother. Undyne's table felt worlds away from where he was now.

What can I say about W. D. Gaster? I barely remember him. I'm not positive he ever existed. He may even exist now, I wouldn't know.

"You're not sure? How...how odd!"

"I've heard that Dr. Gaster had another son, but we never heard about him because he was more...disappointing.'

"I suppose all the genius went to you, Sans."

I hate the forced way in which rich people laugh.

"Well? Do you have a brother? What is he like?"

The things before me slowly fade. I hold my hand out in front of me. I can barely make my fingers out.

I have a watch full of blood. It pumps, but only to the same place, it pumps the blood around and around and around my wrist. It powers the watch.

Is it truly blood? It could be ketchup, or water laced with red food coloring, or some sort of red sugary beverage. Would it taste good? Sweet? Sour? Would I feel sick if I drank it?

I don't want to drink it. If I drank it, then I wouldn't have a watch anymore. It would be a watch, but the function would be stripped from it.

I am a watch filled with blood, except the blood was Papyrus's blood, except Papyrus didn't have blood, except there isn't any blood left for me. Maybe it was ketchup. Yes, perhaps Papyrus was made of ketchup. Would it really matter in the end? What makes things matter?

Anyways, I have been stripped of my function.

Once I worked for Father. He was the Royal Scientist.

But he was also completely absent from our lives.

But he also made sure Papyrus knew that Mother died giving birth to him and that, because of that unfortunate accident, Papyrus shouldn't even exist.

But our father also never existed.

And he was also a very fine father indeed.

The universe is full of contradictions.

I think that's something he told me once.

I rub his shoulders. I can tell that he's exhausted. He's never hyperventilated so intensely that they had to call an ambulance.

This will be news. A high-profile event, a evidently high-profile person in the niche of science in the Underground. And all because someone asked him about his father and his brother.

If everything I've heard is true, then Sans is legally Sans Gaster, and the father of Sans and Papyrus is the former Royal Scientist, W. D. Gaster, who disappeared. How come Alphys never talked about him? I bet she had worked with Sans in the past, too. Why didn't she share all this with me years ago?

All those years ago, when Papyrus was alive. Even further back, when Gaster was here. How much had she hid from me?

How much information has Sans been burdened with? How much of it did he keep all to himself, emotionally festering within him?

I've never been in an ambulance before. We don't have cars down here, but in New Home, ambulances are the one exception. I'm not even sure how they make them.

The paramedics don't seem concerned. They let me sit on the gurnee with him. His head is on my lap. He's got one of those breathing masks on, and I think he's asleep. I had to take psychology courses to become a grief counsellor, and I know enough to know that panic attacks and hyperventilation are both symptoms of PTSD and other stress disorders. Common after losing someone. If he lost his father as well...and on top of that it seems that he was unstable beforehand, maybe some form of anxiety, maybe depression, possibly delusional. I run my hand over his face. His head is heavy on my thighs. The lights of the city pass us.

I should have known. I could have helped him— I'm trained to help people like him! I get paid for it! I know the warning signs. Did I just not want to admit that Papyrus's death will haunt us forever, chasing us down hallways, following us to big fancy parties, corralling us into ambulances?

I begin to sob. I'm sobbing his name, that name I haven't dared to speak since it happened all those years ago. I feel my lips, my teeth, my tongue, they dance in a frenzied waltz, but it's as though someone chopped off my legs, for I know that I'll never waltz again. A couple paramedics flinch, but it doesn't matter now! What's nonsense to them is everything that had ever made sense to me!

Papyrus! Papyrus! Papyrus! I can feel you in the dazzling heat of this summer, the dizzying intensity of the streetlights! You're the oxygen flowing in and out of Sans's mask! You're the red thread keeping this expensive dress together!

You're more alive now than you ever have been, my love!