Chapter Text
The rest of the month dragged on, even as it felt like Spamton never stopped moving. There were tests to run and trials to manage and data to collect and files to organize. For every machine Spamton helped build, it seemed like there were ten more things in the queue left to finish. Each day felt impossibly long, to the point that it was all he could do to finish his work.
Gaster only gave them half an idea what it was all for, anyway. His comments ranged from painfully specific to wildly unhelpful. And he refused to share anything about the many experiments in his private studies, like his time-travel interests and anti-matter trials.
(The only reason Spamton knew about those were from his own after-hours snooping. He had no illusions that he could hide his sneaking from Gaster, but he never said a word, so Spamton dug anyway.)
With every big milestone, though, Spamton felt that unending drive grow. It must be what drove Gaster on through this breakneck pace - the feeling that they were getting closer and closer to freedom.
Despite himself, he kept forgetting to ask Gaster about going home for a visit. But every time he remembered, Spamton would pick up the pace in his work.
It would all be worth it soon.
---
"Dr. Alphys! Dr. Alphys, open the door!"
Someone pounded on the door. And pounded, and pounded.
"Please!" a high-pitched voice called, painfully familiar. "I need to talk to you!"
Alphys was an interesting partner, at least. She seemed decent enough, if Spamton had ever given a shit to talk to her. The problem being, every time he tried, she'd start stammering, and it would remind him of a clunky CRT who used to be so nervous around strangers, and it always led to Spamton storming away from her until he could settle his heart rate enough.
Not exactly the best work environment for either of them. Thankfully, Gaster kept them nearly too busy to notice the awkwardness.
Now, she leapt to her feet, wincing at the noise. "Oh, gosh," she mumbled to herself, claws tapping nervously as she went. "Hope I'm not in trouble again. Ha."
Spamton felt his heart sink, something clawing its way up his chest. He was torn between the insane urge to shove Alphys out of the way and the immovable weight in his chest locking him in place.
Alphy's padded to the door, obviously hesitant. She slid the bolt, and the door flew open.
Every muscle in Spamton's body locked up when he saw Susie.
She looked... different. There was no kinder word for it. Her eyes were dark, her outfit a mess. Even her hands were trembling as she clutched her mail satchel between them. The dark hair Tenna always kept braided now fell in a tangled mess against her back, so much longer than he remembered it.
Susie's posture, though, was familiar. The same battle-ready pose she'd had in the junkyard so long ago, guarding the people she had to protect.
"You're the scientist lady Gerson told me about," Susie said. Her voice was no less steely by how hoarse it was - like she'd been crying, and now wouldn't allow it. "I need your help, ma'am. It's an emergency."
Alphys jolted, clearly taken aback as even as she winced in sympathy. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry. That's me, but I'm - I c-can't exactly, uh, leave right now-"
"No!" Her teeth flashed for a just a moment, ready to fight, before reason overtook her panic. Instead, she hefted the bag. "No, please, I can pay you! Look, it's - I've got money!"
She shoved her bag into Alphys hands with too much force. The gold coins inside clinked together as Alphys fumbled it.
A familiar bag. The one she carried on her delivery route, to collect all her tips.
Susie talked straight over top of Alphy's stuttering. "And I've got more at home! I just - I need-" She tried to take a breath, but she was past the point of being able to calm down. Her eyes were watery again when she looked to Alphys. "I need help fixing something important. Please."
And before Spamton's brain even made the choice, he stepped out from behind his desk. "Susie?"
Her eyes slid past Alphy's like she wasn't even there, locking straight onto Spamton's. Terror and recognition filled her face, and she stumbled forward a step, nearly shouldering past Alphy's in the process.
"Please," Susie choked out again. Spamton abruptly couldn't stand the way she said it - the same way she'd begged Alphys, a stranger. "Please, please, you have to come back. We - we need you - I need you - "
Spamton stepped forward, arms falling open automatically. And despite the uncomprehending fear in her eyes - despite the way he'd dismissed her so thoroughly, despite throwing away every scrap of trust she must have had - Susie barreled straight into him. Spamton held her close, chest so tight he could barely breathe.
"Dear Susie," he said shakily. "What's wrong, honey? Are you okay?"
"It's not me," she sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. "It's Tenna! I - I can't turn him on anymore. I've tried everything, I swear, I tried to take care of him, but he's - he's -"
Cold, burning dread shot through him, and he did his best to tamp it down. This again? "It's only been a few weeks, kiddo. I know he must not be feeling well, but -"
Susie pulled back sharply, the echoes of her old anger written across her face. She wrenched herself free from his arms, a chill in her place. "Don't lie to me," she snarled. "I'm not stupid! It's been months!"
Every thought in Spamton's head came to an unceremonious, screeching halt.
Without thinking, he echoed, "Months?"
"You've been gone for half a year now," Susie snapped. Her clenched fists shook at her sides. "We... we kept waiting, and you..." The anger broke right down the middle, caving her scowl into a sob. "You didn't come back."
"Oh Angel," Alphy's said faintly, sounding just as shellshocked as Spamton felt. "The experiments. The... the time dilation." She stumbled back, bumping the desk. Papers fluttered everywhere. "That's why we're making progress so quickly. He's speeding up the experiments in the lab. And we're... we're moving with it."
Her words were already fading away in Spamton's ears, drowned out by a steady buzzing of horror.
Tenna needed maintenance every month at least. Lately, the intervals had been getting closer and closer together. Spamton had been hoping to make it three weeks at the job before he went home to do the necessary touch-ups, and even he knew that might be pushing it.
Six months. Six months of Tenna aching and hurting. Six months of slowly falling apart, waiting for his husband to fulfill his end of their long-running partnership.
'He said not to bother you,' Susie told him last time. Tenna hadn't wanted her to interrupt Spamton, because he must have thought Spamton had moved on. From their deal, from their partnership, from their life, from- from Tenna.
No, no no NO-
"Ah. What perfect timing."
In the doorway, always listening, stood Gaster.