[He leaves, for even a moment, and it takes everything she has not to break down. She knows this, she knows this, but the uncertainty to it's design and the modifications she made in the past were gone and replaced by entirely new anxieties. The amalgamates, always seeming drawn to it, as if it would be their salvation. Her own worries about if these are legitimate, if they're her finished model, if there's going to be more work than she thinks. If she's going to make it worse.

God, if she kills Frisk doing this, she won't be able to live with herself. She knows she won't.

So she busies her mind, and her hands, shuts it all out with algorithms and lists. Takes stock of everything she has and needs, organizes the things Sans is bringing in, measures and clears the right amount of space. Thankfully, Wonderland is rather accommodating. If they weren't here, she doesn't know how they could've fixed this.

Her mind also helpfully reminds her that death and rebirth is an option here, and she should be thankful for that, too. Alphys cringes, just a moment, and keeps going.

Finally, it seems like they have everything, minus perhaps an IV drip for coffee that she knows she'll need in about two days' time. At least the kitchen isn't far. She turns from her desk, blueprints spread across it and a small notepad and pen in her hands.]

Okay, so, b-by my calculations, with you, me, and Ford, we might be able to assemble this in a week and a half. A w-week if we're fast and nothing goes wrong with the calibrations.

[And she knows something will go wrong.]

Plus we'll probably need a test run or at least, I d-don't know, zap a chair or something. We'll get there.

[She looks up at him, finally meeting his eyes instead of looking at her notes.]

Is that o-okay? I mean, uh, we can tag-team sleeping, or uhm, coffee breaks, and, of course you don't have to be around for the whole thing but, it'd...

I'm g-glad you're here. I don't want to do this by myself.