Caden looked back up at Gus with the same disappointment after what he said. "I know you got a lot of reason to be angry. But this shit isn't healthy, Gus."

"Least I don't beat my fuckin wife and cheat on her."

"No." Caden said, before he grilled his older brother. "No, you beat up drunks and kids who spill drinks on you. Sure, you're turning your anger more outward, but- you're still hurting people."

"And what about you?" Gus asked. "You sitting happily in that house, protecting Ma from that fucking psychopath by helping her to live out her delusion and see to it that he never gets his ass thrown in a prison cell?"

Caden responded accordingly to this attack of his. "Hey. At least I stick around. You ran the fuck away when you had the chance, Gus. You barely see her anymore. Do you know what that does to her? How that hurts her? She always asks about you and I can barely tell her a fuckin' thing, the way you don't return my calls, the way you turn me down when I ask you to go to grab a bite to eat with me. When's the last time you even spoke to her? Four years? Five?" Caden crossed his arms and glowered angrily at his brother.

"I ran away, sure. I ran away from that fucking nuthouse. I love Ma, Caden. I do. But god I..." Gus seethed, raising his shackled hands into the air and squeezing his fists into a tight ball. "...god... DAMN IT. Do you even remember what she put us through? If she just did something about it and realized how fuckin’ far gone he was, how insane he was- Caden!..." Gus stood up and kicked his chair over. "FUCK!" He screamed.

Caden stuck his hand out to the one-way mirror, gesturing to the officers who were without a doubt watching intently on the other side.

"Caden..." Gus said again, the agony in his voice tugging at his little brother. "He beat us with- with fucking HORSE WHIPS. He broke plates over our heads, he broke my arm, shoved your face through glass, tried to drown me, pushed you off a moving ATV, stabbed Ma with a pencil, threw wine glasses at her, broke her fucking hand with a hammer, and god only knows what else that she wouldn't tell us about... he's... he's a fucking demon, Caden. He should have been rotting in prison fucking decades ago or in a fucking mental ward, but Mom wouldn't let it happen, and now that you're finally old enough to have a say- Fuck, Caden, you been old enough for more'n thirty damn years now..." Gus ranted and raved, pacing back and forth on his end of the room, the chains of his cuffs rattling. He collapsed into the corner next to the window, huddling up into himself, weeping.

"Caden... Caden... You're just- you're helping this draw itself out. I love Ma. I do, but... this should have ended a long fucking time ago. I know dad can't help it with that... hole in his head and that... hap-hazard scrap metal covering it up, but I just don't care. You know as much as I do Dad needed to go to an institution but Ma was too stuck loving the man she lost to accept he was gone fer good... and after all he did to us, you're helping her out by letting her live this... fantasy. It killed your marriage, Caden. You loved that woman. And she loved you."

Caden didn't have anything to say about the sore subject that was his brief marriage, it was a delicate topic to him, and in any other circumstance, he'd have been angry about it being brought up, but Gus had a reason to.

"I don't... I don't know what I'm doing, Gus." Caden said outright. "I don't know why I'm doing it, but I know it's almost over. His last doctor's visit didn't look too good. Said any day now there was gonna be something... a massive stroke, maybe a seizure, something no amount of medical attention would fix. That... That injury it's finally catching up with him. After fifty years."

Caden looked wistfully out into the snowfall. "They didn't even think he'd be around for another ten..."

"He's weak, Gus." Caden said. "There's no strength left in him."

"Good." Gus said, his head buried into his arms in his corner, a man entering his late 40s crying like a child. "When he's dead and buried, getting eaten by worms like he deserves, then he'll really be at his weakest. That’s when I'll come by to visit you two. Only then."

Caden stood up. "I look forward to it."

He shuffled awkwardly toward the door. Not shifting his gaze from Gus for a second.

"I love you, Gus" he said, choking up. "Please take care of yourself. And stay out of trouble."

Caden walked out, and left Gus to sit alone in the corner.

The very next morning, their father would defy all expectations, and show everyone just how much of his terrible strength was really left in him.

Loud thumping coming from downstairs woke Gus up. He didn't think twice. The dream had put him on edge, and he grabbed his shotgun before charging down the stairs and bursting through the front door. He was almost blinded when he did. It was snowing. Sticking, too. About an inch on the ground.

"Hey." He heard to his left.

It was Susie, sitting in Gus's rocking chair on the front porch with her guitar. She had picked clothes similar to what she wore yesterday, but she was bundled up warmer for the snow. She looked down at Gus's legs.

"Heart boxers, dude?" She smirked. "Really?"

Gus lowered the shotgun and rested it inside the front door.

"Well. I'll be damned." He put his hands on his hips. "A bit early for this kind of weather, isn't it?" He asked.

"Forecast didn't say anything." Susie said. "But they'll cancel everything at school today."

"Really?" Gus asked.

"Yeah. It's sort of like a tradition that they started about four years back. First snow is a day off. Always. Pretty sweet, huh?"

"Well, I guess it is. I'm surprised to find you out here, considering how terrible with the cold you are."

"Hah!" Susie laughed. "Don't be, old fart. I shiver a lot, sure. But I love snow."

"Yeah... me too..."

"Can we go to the Dreemurr place?" Susie asked. "I'm sure Kris and Asriel have some idea of what to do today."

"Eh... no-can-do for me. I'll drop you off, Susie, but I need to work on the cabinets."

She pouted. "Seriously, dude? Come on..."

"Susie, you do realize that these cabinets are the very reason I met Toriel, right? It’d be awfully rude to just avoid doing the work she’s paying me to do."

"You sure you wanna be alone today? You kind of had a panic attack yesterday. Well, you had like three..."

"Yeah. I'm sure I'll be fine. Just have Tori call me when you want me to come get you, okay?"

Susie cocked her head. "Yeah, okay."

And there it was. The horrible metal screech of his door in the quiet of the first snowfall. Even Susie griped about that awful noise. Gus was bundled up along with her. He had cranked the truck up before they even got in so that the heat could do its work and make their ride warm the whole way. As he buckled his seatbelt, he heard his phone ring. When he took it out of his pocket, he was surprised to see it was Toriel.

"Tori? Was just about to come down there to drop Susie off, how are you?"

"Gus."

There was a tone to her voice that caught Gus’s attention right away. He could only seem to picture her with a deep-set pallor after she said his name just now, a pallor whiter even than her fur.

"Gus, I can't find Asriel!" She was hysterical.

"He's not HERE, Gus. I've looked everywhere, under every bed, in every room, behind the house, in the woods nearby, I even called Asgore. He doesn't know either! Gus, there are- these awful scratches on the wall on his side of the room. Scratches in the shape of hands with eyes on the palms. It looks demonic, Gus! Kris keeps saying something about Mount Ebott. Asriel kept telling him about Mount Ebott last night. It was like he was in a trance, Gus please! Please, I need you to check the road outside of town. He can't have gone far!"

"Where's mom's car?" Susie muttered to herself, looking across the street. "It was just there, like a minute ago."

"I'll go lookin, Tori. Don't worry. I'll find your boy."

"Thank you." Toriel said tearfully. Gus hung up.

This can't be happening. This cannot be happening.

"Gus, what's going on, what's wrong?"

"Asriel's gone missing. Toriel can't find him. Asgore doesn't even know where he is. She thinks he might be on the road to Ebottfield. We've gotta start close to town, and if we don't see him, we come back."

"Oh shit..." Susie remarked, her tone low and serious.

Gus steadily lowered his foot on the gas and he began to roll down the hill. But when he put his foot on the brake to slow down so he could look both ways, he found that he had no brakes.

"What the..." They rolled out into the middle of the road.

"What's wrong?" Susie asked.

"We've got- we've got no brak-"

The sound of screeching metal and shattering glass thundered through Gus's eardrums. He felt like he was being slung around by a giant. The entire car was spinning, and then he felt as if he was floating, every organ in his body trying desperately to find its right place in zero gravity. The thundering crash that pounded through his ears when they stopped floating deafened him. They had landed hard, and were suspended upside down. Skidding, skidding, until they finally came to a stop. His ears were ringing, and his back was sore. He looked over to Susie. She wasn't moving. Out cold.

Gus fumbled for his seatbelt and loosened it, bracing the best he could to be dropped on the now inverted ceiling of his truck cabin. He banged his head and grumbled.

"God... fuck..."

He crawled on his hands and knees to Susie, unbuckling her and lowering her to the ceiling.

"Susie?" He said, shaking her. "Susie, come on. Wake up, girl." No answer.

"Susie. Susie please, god. God, answer me. Susie come on!" He felt like he was about to have a panic attack.

"Steal my fuckin' daughter, eh?" he heard.

He looked up to see the end of a 4x4 mere inches away, which was promptly shoved into his forehead with the force of a hard punch. It sent him reeling, and his vision blurred. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Susie being dragged away.

Every muscle in his body ached. He could barely remember where he was until the image of Susie's unconscious body being dragged away cut through his mind, and he began frantically crawling out of the broken window of his inverted truck. His head was throbbing, and it took him a few tries to stand steady.

He walked a few paces so he could look back and take in the scene. Susie's guitar had apparently flown right by his head without even touching him in the crash, because it was shattered in a million pieces right outside the driver's door. The rustbucket that belonged to Susie's mom was about thirty feet down the road toward town, and it was just... totaled. She had rammed into the side of the bed of his truck and caused him to go into spinout, ending in an inversion, totalling his truck as well.

He wiped his forehead. He was cut, and bleeding. More than a little, but not enough that he cared. He looked at the underbelly of his truck, the brake line had been cut. The fucking psycho bitch had planned this. That was where her car was. Down the road, waiting for him to pull out so she could pull this shit.

Gus wasted no time marching toward his house to grab his shotgun. But stopped in his tracks when he saw smoke billowing from its windows. The workshop too. She had set everything on fire.

"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

But there was no way he was going to waste his time trying to hopelessly save his house. He needed to find Susie, and he needed to find her right now.

Gus didn't waste time trying to open the door normally. He knew the handle would be red hot, so instead with one mighty kick he bashed it in and grabbed his shotgun by the stock before the flames could lick it. He immediately threw it into the snow to cool it off and scrambled down the porch to grab it, the metal still hissing. He checked to make sure it was loaded and he was relieved to find that it was.

"Okay... okay..."

Gus heard a shrill scream across the street. It pierced the silent snowy air.

"SUSIE!!!" He hollered after it.

He began running down the hill and across the street, the sounds of struggle in the house banged and popped, screams and shouts echoed, muffled by the walls until he was halfway across Susie's yard, and her front door flew open. It was Susie. Just Susie.

She fell onto the porch, and she was covered from head to toe in bruises. Gus ran up and picked her up. Her snout was misshapen, runny snot dribbled from her nostrils uncontrollably, and her right eye was swollen shut.

She didn’t have her jacket. Instead she only stood there in her dirty white tee, stained with sweat. Her scales were covered in cuts.

She was crying.

“Oh my god…” was all that Gus could say.

He set his shotgun aside and took Susie into a tight hug, staring back at her front door with abject terror. He backed away down the steps with her in his arms, holding her steady. He held her close to his chest and she began weeping.

“Oh my god…” he said again. “What happened, baby what happened oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” Gus was beginning to break down, his head felt light, and he couldn't stop repeating the words. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

“Mom… that- f-fucking BITCH..." her face contorted into a facade of anger. "The cunt she-she-she... she shouted at me, telling m-me I was s-sleeping around! With you, with Kris, w-with Asriel... Sh-sh-sh-she called me a fucking- a wh-wh-whore. She beat me, cut me up. An-an-an-and then the psycho bitch tried to stick her curling iron up my...”

Gus’s face dropped.

He noticed Susie stood strangely, her thighs spread awkwardly so that they didn't rub up against each other.

Susie collapsed into her hands and whimpered. “...it r-r-r-really hurts... I had to... push her away and she... she hit her head and...” Susie burst out into a staccato of deep sobs, her shoulders lurching with each hiccupping motion.

Gus steadily broke away from his hug and gently lowered Susie to the ground, draping his gargantuan jacket over her.

He handed her his phone and simply said “Call Toriel. Call Asgore. And then call the police.”

She looked up at his looming figure, not understanding the gravity of what he was about to do. Before she could ask, Gus wrapped his arms around her and took her into the biggest, most fatherly bear hug he could muster, pulling her tight for what could be the last hug he would ever give her.

“Close your eyes, cover your ears, and remember to breathe. There are people who love you. There are people who love you so much, Susie. There are people who love you so much you have no idea what lengths they’d go to so they could do right by you. You have friends, Susie. You have family. Not this bitch, she's not your family. You have a family and they have you. You can never forget that. You are loved. You are worth loving. I love you, kid. I. Love. You.” he whispered into her ear.

He let go of her and picked up his shotgun.

She was staring up at him.

“Please.” he said.

She turned away and covered her ears. Gus started marching toward the house. The way his broad, sloping shoulders eclipsed everything in front of him, the way his head hung, the fury and anger in each step, shotgun in hand. In this moment he really, truly, looked demonic and deranged.

At long last, it had overboiled. All these years. All these long, long years. Day after day of living with this feeling and he was done. He was fucking done. He thought of all the times he was beaten, whipped, cut, tortured in indescribable ways by his shit of a father, he remembered that day he finally left the ranch, the way his father drunkenly screamed after him to never come back, to just go away and die. He remembered how his mother sat aside and did nothing while she was also subject to these things, and he remembered how his brother had just fueled her delusions and helped her keep the insanity going. But most of all he remembered that day three years ago when it all finally came to a head, walking into the kitchen, his mother and brother lying limp on the ground, their skulls caved in with a cast iron skillet, his father cowering out of facing the consequences and draining his own brain out of his head with a .38 shoved into his mouth. He remembered how his wife had the nerve to screw some prick behind his back and leave him while he was reeling from the grief, taking him for half his worth. All the times he should have lost it, snapped, put his fucking foot down. No more should-haves. No more misplaced bouts of rage. This was over.

Life is not short. Whoever peddled that bullshit was full of it, and he can stick it. Life is long. Impossibly, impossibly long. And you’ve got to sit there and fucking live with what you did or didn’t do. You’ve got to deal with it for years. You can either look back and regret it, or you can not. There is no inbetween to this. There are times to sit idle, and there are times to act. And right now, something needs to be done.

The house was filthy. Cigarette butts littered the floor and the entire place smelled of cheap booze and menthols. The ceiling was low and covered in cobwebs, every wall was stained. Odd things crunched beneath Gus's boots and he was certain that some of it was glass. It was just too dark to see anything other than the few bright bits of trash and the cigarette butts. The thought crossed his mind that this was what Susie had endured all those years.

He emptied out of the hallway into a small, open room. Around this part of the house, Gus realized that there was no heating or air, and it was absolutely frigid in here. An old oil lantern sat in a corner, creating a pitiful amount of light compared to the bright reflection of the snow leaking in through the windows, but it wouldn't surprise Gus if it was all that they had at night. Susie's house was never very bright at the end of the day. That wasn't to say there was no electricity, though. An old, broken TV was on, a huge crack in the thick glass, it had been broken in the struggle between Susie and her mother. Gus could hear the voices of talk show hosts emitting from it, though he couldn't see it. Susie's mother was stood in the middle of the room, rubbing the back of her head and staring at the TV, muttering and cursing to herself. She was completely unaware of Gus.

But Gus didn't much like the idea of killing someone who didn't take the chance to try and defend themselves. So against his better judgement, and perhaps even in his idiocy and what pride remained in him, he called out to her.

"Hey."

She turned back to face him, slowly. There was a kitchen knife in her hand.

"I think you know what I'm here for."

Susie's mother laughed. "Alright."

She charged him with the knife, no regard for her life like she had when she confronted him two days ago. What was the point? She'd spend the rest of her life behind bars almost certainly if she didn't die here. She got a good deep poke into his gut before Gus could even think about pulling the trigger. He yelped. God, it burned. It burned right through him. He had to think fast or the next one would be in his chest, maybe even his neck.

Gus pushed her away, and she took the knife with her, the weapon locked in her iron grip. Blue blood came oozing out from his stomach. As she stood back, regaining her balance from the push, Gus readied himself. She ran toward him again, and he caught her off guard by pumping the shotgun and ejecting the round he had chambered, instead opting to smack her in the snout with the stock of the gun for this close-quarters encounter. It sent her back, making her lose her balance, and she spinned around, falling down back into the room stomach-first. When she landed, a hollow shriek escaped from her mouth.

She knocked over the oil lamp with one of her arms and it shattered, flaming oil spilling onto her floor. She desperately rolled away from it, and faced up at the ceiling. A hollow noise escaped from her lips and Gus saw that she had accidentally stabbed herself in the chest when she fell. Gus released the tension in his muscles and lowered his gun. He looked at her miserable situation. Mortally wounded in a burning house. In such pain and shock that she was unable to move or speak.

Gus scoffed. He didn't say anything. He just took a knee to pick up the shell he'd pumped out and put it in his pocket, grunting in pain as the fresh wound in his stomach stretched with the motion. He watched the curtains catch fire as Susie's mom hopelessly tried to catch her breath a few times, but she couldn't. The way the knife went in it was likely she had severely ruptured some part of her heart and collapsed a lung. She went unconscious from the shock within seconds. Even if there was no fire, there was no way she'd survive that.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. Gus huffed in disbelief as he made his way back for the front door, remembering that sometimes, things just work out that way.