It had been a year since Papyrus had gotten his brother back. An entire year since the first time Sans had called Papyrus a naive idiot.

He didn't do that so much anymore. He was nice. Not quite kind, he was still pretty rough and rude, but... he wasn't exactly mean anymore. There weren't so many of those cold grins, or dark glares. It was more that he was just gruff and didn't sugar-coat anything. He said what he thought, regardless of whom it might offend.

But, he wasn't intentionally cruel, and Papyrus's belief that he still was a good person inside only grew stronger. Sans was learning to love again, however slowly, and Papyrus was going to support Sans the entire way.

The first time Sans was actively helpful was a Thursday.

Being a respectable eight year old now, Papyrus was enrolled in the second grade. And he was just now moving on from the addition and subtraction part of arithmetic to the multiplication and division side of things.

He had been sent home with a worksheet of multiplication problems to complete, and, as usual, he was doing them in the lab, while Gaster toyed with whatever he was going to try on Sans next, and Sans sat on the cot in the cell.

As Papyrus had only just learned how to multiply things, it was still a little confusing for him, and a particular problem, 6 X 8, had him quite stumped. So, he voiced his frustration with the problem.

Sans looked up from whatever he had been doing with the zipper of his jacket (Papyrus's best guess was that he was improvising some sort of music. It had actually sounded kind of nice, a fast, catchy tune.) and said to Papyrus, "aw, pap, that stuff's not so hard. just think of it like... what if you had six boxes, each with eight crayons in it? how many crayons would you have?"

"Oh!" Papyrus said, thinking about crayons and crayonboxes. "That's easy! I'd have forty eight crayons!"

"aaaand there ya go." Sans nodded once, then went back to his instrumental jacket zipper.

Papyrus scribbled down the answer on his paper, then realized what had just happened.

Sans had gone out of his way unprompted, to assist Papyrus with his homework.

Quietly, Papyrus grinned to himself, proud of his brother, and continued with his homework.

~o0o~

Little did Papyrus know, Sans "help" had been a carefully calculated move. A year before he readily offered assistance. A few more months before he did again, and slowly more frequently beyond that, if his opportunity had not yet presented itself.

And it would, he was sure. There had already been several instances that had been close, where he could have almost escaped, but he had let those pass by. They were just a little too unsure to go on, and besides, he had already put this much work into it, what was a little longer with the promise of his prisoners' deaths?

It was nothing. Nothing when you took into account the reward.

The elimination of the Pure Royal Scientist, as well as his fledgling weapon.

Because yes, sweet and naive as Papyrus was, he was still built to be a weapon, and with just a few tweaks, he could be out on the warfront within several years.

So Sans would wait a bit longer, store up his Magic, and take out the pair when he escaped.

~o0o~

His opportunity did come, as he knew it would. It was a Saturday afternoon, and he had finally come up with a way to attack Gaster's suspicion of his Magic.

Sans was standing at the edge of the weapons testing area. It had been over a year since he had stood there, he realized with a little excitement. He had told Gaster that he would show him why he didn't want to use his Magic, but he had neglected to say which Magic, and as Gaster didn't know about his Corrupt Magic, he had naturally assumed Sans meant the Magic he had always had. Just as Sans knew he would.

So now they stood in the weapons testing area. Gaster was standing at Sans' left, hand in his pocket. Sans had no doubt that it was wrapped around a syringe or something, filled with a sedative and ready to plunge into Sans' antiSoul should he try anything.

At that moment, Sans hadn't been going to try anything right then. He was more focused on the point of getting Gaster to stop asking about his Magic.

So, Sans fed a bit of Magic into his broken left eye, just enough to light it up. But the Magic was already threatening to overflow, so no more.

He heard Gaster inhale sharply beside him, probably at the sight of his shattered eye.

No time to think about that right now, though. Letting the light fade from his right eye, he started drawing up the Magic for an attack: a single, small Gaster Blaster. He did so slowly, trying to ignore the building pressure in his skull.

The Blaster took shape gradually, except it was like a dying monster, just clinging to life. Chunks of the Magic keeping it together broke off, shimmering out of existence, and the entire bone structure was covered in cracks.

Sans started breathing hard, struggling to keep his Magic focused enough to hold the Blaster there without putting any more Magic into his eye.

When he started trembling, it was hugely exaggerated, but he still was trembling for real, and he couldn't have faked the sweat slipping down his skull if he had wanted to.

"Sans." Gaster said quietly, his voice horrified. "Sans, that's enough!"

"n-no," Sans gasped, "i- i can-- fire it--"

"Sans, no."

He let the Blaster's broken, cracked jaw fall open. Truth be told, he didn't think he could fire it, not without forcing more Magic into his eye, which would make it overflow. But he didn't actually have any intentions of firing it.

Right before he let it fire, Sans let out a pained cry and draining all the Magic in his eye and dispelling the Blaster. He let his legs collapse beneath him, curling into a fetal position clutching his skull tightly. The headache didn't actually hurt anywhere near that bad, but the more they thought it hurt him, the more it helped him.

Both Gaster and Papyrus let out a shout, and both were immediately at his side. Gaster grabbed his shoulders, and that was when Sans saw his opportunity.

Because he had been out of the fishtank for long enough that the Magic-suppressing effects were fading, and he had been storing his Magic for over a year, and now Gaster's hand wasn't on the sedative in his pocket, and now Gaster and Papyrus were both standing right next to him, and they both thought him hardly able to move, he would have his chance.

With a roar, Sans uncurled, thrusting his right hand upward as a purple film overlaid the right side of his vision. Both Gaster and Papyrus were thrown back by the sudden burst of Magic.

He stood and looked around. Gaster was struggling to get up to his left. Papyrus was slumped against the wall to the right, dazed.

Sans summoned a dark purple, Corrupt blaze of Magic to his right palm, and realized he had a problem. He had misjudged how much Magic that first blast would take, and now didn't have enough Magic to just outright kill both of his captors.

Gaster was almost at his feet, and he was reaching into his pocket.

In fact, now that he thought about it, Sans didn't think he had enough Magic to kill Gaster, period. He could damage him pretty severely, but not kill.

He had to act fast, though. Gaster was regaining his balance quickly, and soon Sans would lose what chance he had to do what damage he could.

Because now it wasn't a matter of escaping anymore. That was unlikely, because of his misjudgment. Now he just had to do as much damage before he was recaptured.

So he threw as strong a blast of Magic at Gaster as he could manage, hoping to slow him down, and he lunged.

He was going to do the most damage he possibly could.

And as he shot forward, the glow of what little Magic he had left lighting his palm, he could almost taste the true, wild terror he saw in Papyrus's eyes.

~o0o~

Gaster was scared. He was terrified, in fact.

This was his fault. He had known something like this was coming. Sans was Corrupt, and the Corrupt didn't just become nice, not even over time. Gaster had known that, and still he had fallen for Sans' ruse. And now he was at barely 2 HP.

He staggered to his feet for a second time, hand flying to his pocket, searching for Sans. Sans was near the wall, back to Gaster, kneeling on the floor.

Gaster struggled to muffle his pained gasp when he saw Papyrus's hand gripping at Sans' shoulder, and the way Sans was shaking with effort. He was strangling Papyrus!

Gaster lunged forward as quickly as he could, hoping to catch Sans unaware. He summoned a bone to his hands, too frantic to bother with the syringe in his pocket, and swung it downward as hard and fast as he could manage, catching Sans across the back of the skull with a loud CRACK!

Sans shuddered, then went limp, slumping to the side, unconscious. Gaster reached down and snagged Papyrus out of Sans' arms. For a moment, he just hugged his younger son to his chest, rocking back and forth slightly, relief flooding through him

Then he looked at Papyrus. "Are you alright?"

Papyrus didn't look traumatized, or hurt very badly for that matter, as there was no dust in sight. He just looked vaguely surprised and dazed. He nodded. "I'm... I'm alright, but you didn't... hurt Sans, did you?"

Gaster looked down at the Corrupt monster at his feet. Sans was beginning to stir.

"He'll live." Gaster growled, suddenly furious. Holding Papyrus in one arm, he used his other to pull out the syringe from his pocket. He dropped down next to Sans, leveling the needle of the syringe against Sans' shirt. The tip of the needle tore easily through the threads of the fabric, and Gaster pushed it farther, between Sans ribs, where he knew they would be. Then there was a slight resistance as the needle met with Sans' Corrupt Soul, but it gave under pressure.

Papyrus grabbed tightly to the lapels of Gaster's lab coat. "Dad, wait!"

But Gaster didn't listen. He slipped a thumb over the plunger of the syringe, and pressed it downward, sending the syringe's contents into Sans' Soul. The sedative took effect immediately. All of Sans' weak struggles to regain consciousness ceased as he was forced into relaxation.

"Dad..." Papyrus quietly protested. "You didn't have to do that..."

Not even pulling out the syringe, Gaster rocked back on his heels, sighing. "Papyrus..." He clutched his son tightly, almost afraid something was going to try to take him away. "Papyrus, he tried to kill you."

"But he changed his mind!"

Gaster looked Papyrus in the eyes. "That was because I knocked him out. Papyrus, I know you believe in the good in everyone, but Sans-"

"No, before that!" Papyrus interrupted. "Dad, he was going to kill me, but then he changed his mind and he was hugging me! He- ... He said sorry."

Gaster blinked, unsure of what to say. He knew it was impossible that Sans would have given up like that, but he didn't want to crush Papyrus's hopes. So he just said, "Maybe. But he still hurt us and tried to kill you, so I'm not going to take any chances."

Papyrus started to speak, but thought better of it, and nodded glumly.

For a moment, Gaster just sat there, hugging Papyrus. Then he looked to Sans, who was drooling on the floor. "... Come on. I should probably get him back into the cell."

Papyrus nodded again sadly, and slipped out it Gaster's arms. "... Okay..."

Gaster stood, hooked his hands under Sans' arms, and roughly lifted him up, dragging Sans towards the cell.

Even with all the hope that had been built in the last year having been so swiftly, brutally destroyed, a new sort of hope was growing in Gaster's chest.

Because Sans had used Magic. Corrupt Magic, that had made his right eye glow.

And Gaster had research to do.

§

A/N

Fun fact: the crayonbox method was how my older sister taught me multiplication when I was in 2nd grade! And now I most often associate crayonboxes with family fluff moments.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this, and remember, comments and votes are not only always welcome, but always appreciated, too!