Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

> Run repair on UNDERTALE

> Restore missing files

Repairing corrupted data…

Restoring original worldstate…

Reinstalling…

> Launch UNDERTALE

System instability detected

Some files are not supported

Force load? Y/N

> Y

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–

Thought. Strands. Light, hands. Cracks. Dust. Darkness. …Gold.

Little hands bunched in his coat.

“Gaster.”

His eyelights flickered on, and he fell to his knees in the dark and silent CORE.

Whole. He was whole again. His bones, his SOUL, all of him — was no longer shattered across the emptiness between time and space.

…No. 

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It was just another one of his dreams. He slept often in the void, passing out from the pain or the strain or the boredom. He dreamed of this before. And so here he was again. Trapped in a cruel illusion.

He tried to lay down so he could lose consciousness again and slip into a deeper dream, only for a bolt of pain to spear through his bones, ripping a cry from his nonexistent throat and making him spasm onto his hip, which was its own realm of agony. Panting, Gaster hauled himself to his knees again with a low, broken groan, looking down at himself.

He couldn’t see much, because of his clothes. His black turtleneck, his white lab coat… Huh. That wasn’t right. In the void their colors were inverted, his sweater white and his coat black, and his form was always amorphous, unstable, dripping… goopy. Lifting a shaking hand, sporting not only a hole in its center but a latticework of cracks, he pulled up his sleeves and stared down at his ulna and radius, seeing a spiderweb of cracks on them as well. Feeling the rest of his body, it was all… solid, yet wracked with immeasurable pain. Even his glasses were attached to his skull, strapped on with tape.

[ENOUGH!] Gaster cried at the void, begging for this torment to end, but nothing happened. So, with what little strength he had, he summoned a bone and slammed it into his sternum.

He screamed.

When he finally managed to open his sockets again, his health pool missing 66 HP, he was still in the CORE. Not the infinite void.

Tears flooded his sockets as hope entered his SOUL — a small, fleeting, tentative hope.

[HELP…] he cried into the dark, his voice weak and brittle. The silence of his creation around him was deafening. Groaning through his teeth, Gaster desperately inhaled again and screamed, “HELP!”

. . .

Someone came.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was the red glow of the Determination SOUL.

Chapter Text

Gaster woke up to warmth… warmth, and calming green light… 

He saw… red, behind the light… he knew this magic…

“NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR SLEEPING! STOP BEING A LAZYBONES AND WAKE UP!!!! PLEASE…”

Papyrus was staring down at him with thinly veiled concern, flooding him with healing magic and cradling him in his lap, his eyelights glowing orange. Gaster’s eyelights immediately glowed purple in return, and he weakly reached up to cup his son’s jaw, only for Papyrus to flinch away.

Gaster retracted his hand, noticing that his arm was shrouded in blue. A blue hoodie.

“...dad?”

Gaster turned his skull to the side and saw Sans anxiously rubbing his arm, his one good eyelight glowing blue, dressed in nothing but a stained white T-shirt with gym shorts and slippers. The scientist opened his jaw to say- something, anything, but his voice locked up in his chest.

…What cruelty was this, to be confronted with these versions of his sons, his children, in this false world? Their SOULs were not connected, their familial bond broken, if it ever existed in the first place.

His real sons were dead. Dead, gone, and erased.

He turned his head in the other direction and saw the red SOUL sitting in Frisk’s chest, Chara’s spectral form floating by their side, and Flowey watching him warily from where he sprouted beside Frisk’s foot through the metal of the CORE.

His eyelights stopped glowing, then, and the scientist frowned as he struggled to sit up, gritting his teeth in pain as he left the field of Papyrus’s healing magic. “...YOU,” he rasped in Common, using a different font from the Wingdings he’d been locked in in life, a mark from the void. Clutching his side and panting, Gaster leveled a thunderous glare at the god possessing young Frisk. “...WHY?”

Frisk fidgeted with their hands for a moment before softly murmuring, “I wanted a better ending.”

“SO THAT… YOU CAN… DESTROY IT AGAIN?”

Frisk, Chara, and Flowey all glanced at each other in confusion, but the SOUL remained steadfast. Carefully, Frisk shook their head.

“YOU BELIEVE… YOU ARE ABOVE… CONSEQUENCES?”

Slowly looking more and more frightened, Frisk nodded.

“hey,” Sans warned, he and Papyrus’s eyelights back to their normal states, “lay off the kid, dad. they didn’t do anything wrong. i know they’re the anomaly, but they broke the barrier and freed everyone, and they also insisted we come all the way back here to rescue you, so don’t get your funnybone in a twist, eh?”

Gaster ignored him and clambered to his feet, his battered joints popping and his bones creaking as he slowly stood up to his full height in the dark corridor of the CORE, still clutching his side. His shoulders heaving with every labored breath, Gaster growled, “I KNOW… WHAT YOU DID.”

Flowey scoffed, then. “They didn’t do anything wrong, old man, what are you, deaf? Believe me, I would know, I’m not an idiot.”

Chara gave him a side-eye with a smirk, but Flowey could not see it. 

Gaster locked his eyelights onto the Prince, and forcing his hands up in front of him, ensuring that his sons were behind him and thus could not see, he signed, <Do you think I do not remember what you did, Asriel? What you did to my sons? Do you think I have not killed you before?>

Flowey cringed with a bead of sweat on his face and venomously sneered, “Sh-Shut up!”

Turning back to the god, Gaster ground out, “YOU MADE… A MISTAKE… BRINGING ME BACK.”

Frisk fidgeted further as the Player once more used them as a mouthpiece. “How so?”

[CHARA,] Gaster spoke in his true font, reaching out a hand towards the child, and Chara looked at him in shock before cautiously reaching out to grasp his skeletal hand with their spectral one.

As soon as they made contact, Gaster flooded them with his memories.

The Underground choked with dust, every last monster eradicated off the face of the earth, LOVE 20, Toriel, Asgore, and Asriel all dead. The world erased, a deal struck, a deal betrayed. Chara cast into the void with him only to evaporate into nothingness in his arms.

Chara was immediately snapped into Frisk’s body, fused with it fully, and when they opened their eyes, they were red.

“We had a deal,” they hissed, plunging their hand into their own chest with a scream.

“uh, kiddo?!” Sans yelled frantically, lunging forward, just as Papyrus bellowed “GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY WHAT THE HECK IS HAPPENING?!”

Chara tore the red SOUL out of their and Frisk’s chest and shattered it in their fist, just in time for Sans to crash into them and wrestle their arms behind their back. Papyrus was there a second later, flooding their little body with healing magic.

Chara just held their head low, their hair shielding their face. After a long moment, Frisk was given back control of their body, where they promptly started crying and hyperventilating. Flowey was staring, pale and frozen in shock, trembling as sweat slid down his petals.

Flicking his eyelights to Gaster, Sans barked, “dad, what the hell did you do?!”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS VERY LOST!” Papyrus complained shrilly, blinking back tears as he kept healing Frisk.

[THE CHILD IS NOT THE ANOMALY,] Gaster said tiredly, looking on at the scene with only mild remorse. [THE SOUL WAS. AND IT WAS NOT FRISK’S.]

“how are they still alive?” Sans asked shakily, carefully releasing Frisk’s arms so that they could collapse into Papyrus’s hold, who hugged them close and started wrapping them up in his scarf.

“It’s Chara,” Flowey said numbly, blinking. “For real this time. They… They’re back… And they’re what’s keeping Frisk alive.”

“VERY… ASTUTE,” Gaster rasped, clutching his side again with a grimace. Common was still foreign and alien on his nonexistent tongue.

“CHARA? LIKE THE KING AND QUEEN’S CHILD?” Papyrus asked incredulously. “BUT… I THOUGHT THEY WERE DEAD…?”

“Not anymore they’re not,” Flowey said breathlessly, sliding up to Frisk to call, “Chara! Chara, it’s me!”

Frisk shuddered in a deep breath and curled further into Papyrus’s chest, where they whimpered, “I thought it was nice… I thought it was… I-I thought…”

Gaster forced himself to grind out, “IT WAS NOT… YOUR FAULT, LITTLE ONE…”

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” Papyrus shrieked.

Gaster fell to one knee with another cry, and Sans held his hands up and snapped, “okay, one thing at a time. everybody stop for a sec. let’s start at the beginning. so the kid’s soul… wasn’t theirs. i suspected as much, but… what made it a threat? it brought you back, dad, it- it told us where to find you, so what the hell?”

Frisk sniffled and took in another shaky breath, wiping at their eyes. “It made me hurt you,” they whispered, looking up at Papyrus and Sans. “It made me do bad things… Evil things… It… It killed everyone, and, a-and hurt Chara, and I didn’t know, I didn’t- I-I-”

Sans’s eyelights had extinguished over the course of Frisk’s words, but they blinked on now as he kneeled down with a furrowed brow, rubbing soothing circles into their back where they sat in Papyrus’s arms. “hey, kiddo. it’s okay. no need to get rattled, huh?”

Frisk nodded faintly, then slumped against Papyrus’s chest and grew very very quiet.

Flowey cleared his throat, then. “So Chara is in there, right?”

Sans leveled Flowey with a glare. “hey, flowersayswhat?”

“What?”

“heh.”

“Listen here you smiley trashbag-”

“SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT,” Papyrus mused aloud. “FRISK’S SOUL WAS NEVER THEIRS, BUT SOME KIND OF ‘ANOMALY’ THAT… KILLED US ALL IN A PAST LIFE? BUT THEN IT FREED US AND BROUGHT SANS AND I’S FATHER BACK- WHO I JUST SUDDENLY REMEMBERED TODAY, BARELY- WHO- WHO LEFT US… WHY DID YOU LEAVE US? DID… DID WE DO SOMETHING WRONG…?”

Sans blinked up at his father and softly said, “you promised. you promised that you'd be right behind me.”

Gaster began to rattle as he settled on the ground, hanging his head and closing his sockets. [IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP YOU SAFE…] he wheezed. [THE MACHINE CORRUPTED THE CODE OF THE WORLD… I HAD TO REMOVE IT, BUT THERE WAS NO TIME, SO I… I THREW MYSELF IN TO KEEP IT FROM CONSUMING EVERYONE. FROM CONSUMING YOU. AND I ENABLED CHARA TO DESTROY THE SOUL ALSO TO KEEP YOU SAFE. IF I COULD HAVE DONE IT MYSELF, I WOULD HAVE, BUT THAT WOULD MEAN DESTROYING FRISK AND CHARA AS WELL.]

Papyrus’s browbone furrowed at that as his sockets grew impossibly large and shiny. “...DAD?”

[YES, POPPET?] Gaster murmured. 

At the nickname, tears sprung to Papyrus’s sockets. “WHY CAN’T I FEEL YOUR SOUL? ARE YOU GOING TO DIE AGAIN?”

A wave of sadness and anxiety crashed over Gaster as he relived the pain of losing his youngest son for the last time in his SOUL. His real son.

But was the Papyrus in front of him now not real? Was he no longer his child, just because his SOUL could not recognize him, because his code was not the same? Was Gaster’s code the same?

Neither Papyrus nor Sans deserved to know the burden that this knowledge carried. Judging by the look in Frisk’s eyes, they and Chara both knew his sons’ and their own original fates in the prime world, and knew that they were copies of who they once were. No… Gaster could not subject his boys to that pain. He’d carry the guilt of subjecting Chara and Frisk to it to his grave.

[NO… NO, CHILD, I WILL NOT DIE,] Gaster promised, his sockets stinging. Being a boss monster with an unbound SOUL, it was likely he would live to see his sons pass on. [AND THE VOID MAY HAVE BROKEN OUR BOND… BUT YOU ARE STILL MY SON. AND I STILL LOVE YOU. YOU AND SANS BOTH.]

Sans’s eyelights were little more than trembling pinpricks. “it really is you,” he whispered, taking a hesitant step closer. “you’re… you’re really back… dad…”

Gaster held out his arms just in time to catch Sans where the young man collapsed against his chest, and as Gaster squeezed him close, he felt his oldest begin to rattle as tears leaked down his skull, his breath hitching. Gaster pressed a skeleton kiss to the top of his skull and rubbed his back.

“Gross,” Flowey spat, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna go explore while you all have your little crybaby session.” And with that, he ducked underground.

Sans rattled in a breath and cried, “i tried to fix the machine to bring you back, i did, i really did, but i couldn’t figure it out, i couldn’t- i-” 

[HUSH, NOW… IT IS ALRIGHT, MY CHILD… COME NOW, WHERE IS MY FUNNYBONES? SURELY YOU HAVE A JOKE FOR THIS SITUATION.]

His oldest sniffled and huffed a weak laugh. “guess my material’s pretty… bone-dry.”

Gaster snorted. [THAT WAS TERRIBLE.]

“thanks, i’ll be here all night.”

Gaster looked to Papyrus, then, who looked… uncertain, still holding and comforting Frisk as he watched his brother and father embrace. [...POPPET?]

Papyrus grimaced and looked down to where he was petting Frisk’s head. “I WAS JUST A KID WHEN YOU… WHEN YOU LEFT,” he said slowly. “ALL THIS TIME, I FELT LIKE SOMETHING WAS MISSING IN MY LIFE, AND IT HURT BEING AN ORPHAN, AND I WANTED A DAD, BUT… NOW THAT YOU’RE HERE, I-I… I FEEL LIKE I DON’T KNOW YOU AT ALL…”

Sans looked over his shoulder at that, his browbone furrowed, but he said nothing. After all, Sans spent his entire childhood with his father, but Papyrus was robbed of half of it. Sans was as much if not more of a parent to him than Gaster was.

Blinking back tears of grief, Gaster rasped, [I WAS WITH YOU. IN THE DARK, IN ALL THE TIMES YOU EVER FELT ALONE, I WAS WITH YOU. I KNOW YOU. I KNOW THAT YOU STRUGGLED IN SCHOOL ONLY TO PREVAIL AND GRADUATE NEAR THE TOP OF YOUR CLASS. I KNOW THAT YOU DROPPED OUT OF COLLEGE IN HOPES OF BECOMING A ROYAL GUARD. I KNOW YOU FOUND A FRIEND IN MISS UNDYNE, AND THAT SHE HAS BEEN VERY GOOD TO YOU. I WATCHED YOU BEFRIEND YOUNG FRISK, AND AS YOU SAW THE SUN FOR THE FIRST TIME… A ‘BIG BALL,’ I BELIEVE YOU DESCRIBED IT AS… AND I KNOW THAT I NOW SPEAK TO THE AMBASSADOR OF MONSTERS, A POSITION SECOND ONLY TO THE KING. I HAVE NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU, NOR BEING SO IMMENSELY PROUD OF YOU.]

Papyrus’s mandible trembled as he finally looked back to his father. He jumped, however, when Frisk laid a small hand on his sternum and looked up at him.

“Go to him,” the child said softly, patting his chest. “It’s okay.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Papyrus untangled himself from around Frisk and approached his father with lead legs. Sans scooted to the side to make room, and Gaster freed an arm to welcome him, and when Papyrus finally knelt down and tucked himself against his father’s chest, Gaster clutched him close and nuzzled his skull against his two boys’, and all three of them cried. For how long? None of them could say.

When the three of them finally parted, Gaster wiped at his tears and turned to Frisk where the child sat hugging their knees. “FRISK… CHARA…” he said softly.

Frisk peeked at him from behind their hair.

“...I AM SORRY.”

Frisk opened their mouth— then… closed it, hugging their knees tighter. Instead of speaking, they merely nodded.

Before any of them could do anything else, Flowey sprouted up again. “Uh, hey guys? I found some stragglers.”

Looking around, Gaster froze at what he saw coming around the corner of the corridor.

His followers — his colleagues, as well as the small, pink, armless monster child, looking just as they did before they got erased from existence, staring at him with equal amounts of shock.

Chapter Text

“Doctor Gaster? Sans? What… what happened?”

Sans looked to his father’s old colleagues — Doctors Chomper, Whiskers, Gumdrop, and Clamella — and grimaced. “long story short, you all and dad got erased for thirteen years, then restored by a god who was possessing frisk here, who may or may not also be prince chara dreemurr. it also broke the barrier and got all the monsters to the surface, but before that it uh… killed us all, so it had to go. now we’re here. cool.”

Doctor Gumdrop slowly blinked. “...What.”

Doctor Whiskers fell to his knees and stared at his hands. “Thirteen years?” he asked shakily. “Oh… Here come the tears…”

The monster child amongst the scientists was ashen and sullen, their tail curled around their stubby legs as they hung their head. “I’m sorry,” they said, their voice small and broken. “If I hadn’t activated the machine, none of this would have ever happened… I should have just stayed gone…”

Gaster mustered the strength to rasp, “A CHILD… SHOULD NOT FACE… SUCH A SEVERE PUNISHMENT… FOR IGNORANCE.”

Doctor Chomper gasped so hard they choked and exclaimed, “Since when could you speak Common?!”

Gaster shrugged at his coworker exhaustedly. “THE VOID… MARKED ME… IN STRANGE WAYS.”

Doctor Clamella rubbed at her arm and mused, “That explains the massive hole in your skull.”

“...THE WHAT?”

“yeahhhhh,” Sans drawled, trying to put his hands in a hoodie that was no longer on him. “you’re missing a good chunk of uh…” He gestured at the top right of his own skull.

Slowly, carefully, Gaster reached up and felt along his skull until he found the hole in question. [...AH. I SEE.]

Papyrus covered the hole with his gloved hands and glowed once more with healing magic. “I TRIED TO HEAL ALL YOUR INJURIES, I REALLY TRULY DID! MAYBE I JUST NEED TO TRY HARDER?!”

Gaster shifted his hand to grab his son’s, squeezing it gently and pulling it down to hold against his chest. [YOU ARE PERFECT, POPPET. BUT YOU CANNOT HEAL WHAT IS NOT THERE. IT MAKES SENSE THAT I WOULD HAVE LOST PARTS OF MYSELF, OR FOR PARTS TO BE DESTROYED.]

Papyrus looked to the others, then, a bead of sweat sliding down his skull. “BUT- BUT THE OTHERS AREN’T ALL SCARRED UP!”

Doctor Gumdrop massaged her temple and mused aloud, “One second we were in the CORE’s heart trying to stop the machine, and then the next we were here… What variable would have caused Doctor Gaster to be marked but not us? Were you conscious during that time? Can I inspect your soul?”

Gaster’s eyelights extinguished as Sans stepped in front of him and gently said, “to answer your question, yeah, it seems like he’s been conscious and remembers everything, so maybe give him some space, yeah?”

“Ah,” Doctor Gumdrop said awkwardly. “Of course.”

Doctor Whiskers whipped his head up then and cried, “What of our families? What happened to our families?!”

“i… i lost track of them after finding out they didn’t remember you guys. i can’t say. i’m sorry.”

The monster child started crying as Doctor Clamella knelt down beside them, placing a comforting hand on their shoulder and saying, “We don’t know that they don’t remember us. After all, Doctor Gaster’s sons remembered him! Maybe our families do as well?”

Doctor Chomper’s permagrin ticked up slightly as they said, “Only one way to find out. You say the Barrier is broken and our families are on the Surface? I don’t know about you all, but that fills me with hope.”

There were murmurs of agreement amongst the scientists as Gaster’s eyelights flickered back on, and he slumped against Papyrus with a twinge of pain, closing his sockets as his youngest wrapped a protective arm around him.

Sans walked over to Frisk, then, and kneeled down next to Flowey where the flower had been monitoring the child. “hey, kiddo,” he said softly. “er… kiddos?”

Frisk nodded minutely.

“you ready to go back to mom?” Sans prompted, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

Frisk shivered and hugged themself tighter. After a long moment, they opened their mouth to speak and managed a noise, then another, before they started crying again and shaking their head, wiping at their eyes.

Flowey scoffed. “Come on, Frisk, don’t be such a crybaby. What are you going to do, waste away here in the Underground?”

Frisk abruptly stopped crying, and Chara opened their red eyes.

“Hey,” they croaked, peering down at their brother. “Knock it off. Frisk didn’t choose Mom. It chose for them.”

Flowey shook off his shock to argue, “Why wouldn’t they choose Mo- Toriel?! Where else would they go?”

Sans furrowed his browbone and asked, “does frisk have a family out there?”

Chara clenched their jaw and pulled their knees tighter to their chest. “A mother,” they muttered. “But they don’t want to go back. They don’t know what they want right now. The last choice they made was to jump.”

Flowey wilted slightly as Sans gruffed, “...i see. well… we can’t stay here. but if frisk doesn’t wanna go back to tori, then we’ll respect that choice. you can crash with me and my bro. and uh… dad, i guess. in our tiny apartment. it’ll be great! like a sleepover.”

Chara nodded, then pushed themself up to their feet. 

“hey, kid. er- your highness?”

“Don’t.”

“how are you holding up?”

Chara looked down at Sans for a long moment, then turned away. “Come on. Let’s go. The exit is this way. Can the old man walk?”

Papyrus nudged Gaster, who opened his sockets. Clenching his jaw, Gaster braced himself against Papyrus’s shoulders, who slowly and carefully stood up, pulling his father up with him and wincing at the pained groan that rattled through his bones. “I AM… FINE,” Gaster managed, shrugging off his oldest’s hoodie and handing it back to him before attempting to take a step, only for his breath to hitch as more pain bolted through his bones. 

“YOU ARE DECIDEDLY NOT ‘FINE,’” Papyrus argued, sweeping his father up into his arms and cringing only slightly at Gaster’s sharp yelp. “YOUR GREAT AND EXTREMELY MUSCULAR SON WILL CARRY YOU!!”

Trembling from the pain searing through him, Gaster did his best to relax and let Papyrus carry him, weakly nodding.

“Now let’s go,” Chara announced, beginning to lead them all out of the Underground, only to pause when Flowey made a noise. 

“Um… actually… I think I’ll stay here,” Flowey said slowly, his petals slightly wilted. “I don’t think anyone wants me up there.”

Chara looked over their shoulder at their brother and frowned. “I want you up there with me.”

Flowey looked down and away. “...I can’t be him, you know.”

“I don’t want ‘him.’ I want you. Now come on… idiot.”

Flowey’s expression softened, then, and his mouth curled up into a smile as he followed along the ground at his sibling’s side, the monsters following behind.

–

Silvery light filtered through the exit to the Underground — and not from the Barrier. For when they emerged out of the mountain, the moon was there to greet them, bathing the world in her gentle glow, and beyond her were…

“Stars,” the monster child breathed, their eyes growing big and round. 

Sans turned to the shellshocked child and scientists and grinned, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets. “we got to see the sun when we first came out, but the first time seeing the stars? now that’s always special.”

“DAD?” Papyrus asked, alarmed. “WHY ARE YOU CRYING? ARE YOU HURT?”

[NO, POPPET,] Gaster whispered. [BUT… SET ME DOWN, PLEASE…]

Carefully, Papyrus set his father down and helped support him, and Gaster clung to him as he smiled up at the sky for the first time in five hundred years, tears rolling freely down his skull. He saw the sky in humans’ movies while trapped in their prison, and even from the void he watched days pass on the surface as monsters lived their lives, but it never felt real. None of it ever felt real.

This was real.

[I’M HAPPY,] Gaster wept. [BOYS, LOOK, LOOK AT THE CONSTELLATIONS! THERE IS THE BIG DIPPER- YOU SEE, SEE HOW IT LOOKS LIKE A LADLE? NOW LOOK AGAIN! IT IS ACTUALLY THE TAIL OF A GREAT BEAR. WE CALL IT URSA MAJOR! THESE ARE THE SAME STARS THAT I SAW AS A BOY!]

Sans’s eyelights twinkled as he listened, and Papyrus breathed, “WOWIE!”

The stars reflected in Flowey’s beady eyes as he looked up at the twinkling lights, strangely… empty. Chara glanced down at him and smiled, kneeling down and nudging him with their elbow. “We saw the sun before, together,” they murmured, quiet enough to where the others couldn’t hear, “but never the moon and stars. So, what do you think?”

Flowey frowned. “I don’t think much of anything,” he muttered back. “And it still feels like the Player will take all of this away. It’s more powerful than you, Chara. And I think you just made it mad.”

“Maybe so,” Chara mused, sitting down proper and crossing their legs, resting their hands in their lap. “But that’s why I hid our world.”

Flowey looked at them in bewilderment. “You can do that? Isn’t that what Doctor Gaster and his cronies tried to do and it failed catastrophically?”

Chara shrugged. “They didn’t earn that power. But me? I did… terrible things.” Gingerly, they reached out and caressed one of their brother’s petals. Intact. Whole. “When Gaster gave me back the LOVE I earned, I knew exactly how I needed to use it.”

Flowey grew a small, smooth vine to reach up and hold their hand. “Chara, you didn’t hurt anyone, the Player did.”

“But I helped them,” Chara argued, looking away. “And I killed Sans, and Dad, and… you. All that mattered to me was power. If I could just become powerful enough, I could…”

“Help?” Flowey offered. “Save us? Protect us? Heh. That’s better than me. You wanna know why I got up to LV 19? Because it felt good. That’s the only reason. How does that make me any better than the Player?”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Chara mused. “But you’re my brother. And we both did terrible things. So did Dad. But… the three of us are trying to make things right, the best way we know how.”

“Wasn’t the Player trying to make things right?”

Chara frowned at that and looked back at him, but before they could say anything, there was a distant yell in a familiar voice.

The entire group paused and turned in unison, straining their ears.

“Frisk!” came the cry again, the voice high and soft, accompanied by the waving beam of a flashlight sweeping through the woods. “Sans?”

“tori,” Sans gasped, his permagrin falling. “aw, man, bro, we are in so much trouble.”

[DID YOU NOT TELL ANYONE YOU WERE COMING HERE?!] Gaster snapped.

Papyrus immediately blurted, “I WANTED TO BUT FRISK- ER, WHATEVER IT WAS- FELT VERY STRONGLY ABOUT US NOT BEING STOPPED BY ANYONE!”

Their voices echoed across the forest, and the flashlight beam swept straight towards them.

“now we’re in for it.”

“Hello?!”

Chara, their face pale and frightened, immediately swapped back out with Frisk, whose ears flushed red as they clambered to their feet and hid behind Sans, tugging urgently on his sleeve.

“don’t worry, kiddo, i got ya,” Sans murmured, reaching back to hold their hand. “but she deserves to know the truth, yeah?”

Reluctantly, Frisk nodded, hiding their face in his back. “Not Chara, don’t tell her about Chara. Tell her about me, not them.” They felt Sans nod.

Toriel crested the ridge, clutching her chest with tears in her eyes, only to freeze at the sight of them all.

Gaster wavered where he leaned on Papyrus. “...YOUR MAJESTY,” he said quietly.

Toriel turned off her flashlight and blinked at them all, her chest heaving. “...Gaster?”

The two childhood friends stared at each other for a long moment.

Toriel started shaking as she slightly shook her head. “...You’re alive.”

Gaster bowed his head.

Slowly, with careful, hesitant steps, Toriel approached him until she stood right in front of him. Papyrus, sensing a hug, made sure his father was steady on his feet before stepping away.

Then, a fire entered her eyes, and before anyone could do anything she wound back and slapped Gaster across the face.

Crumpling to the ground as Papyrus’s sockets bugged out and Sans winced (with a chorus of hissed “oooooh!”s from his colleagues), Gaster landed heavily on his knees with a bark of pain as she yelled, “That’s for abandoning me when I needed you most!” A second later, she burst into tears and fell to her knees, cupping his face in healing magic. “Where have you been?! Why did I forget you?! Why is there a hole in your skull?! Why can you TALK now?!”

Gaster gave her a wavering smile and rasped, “GOOD… TO SEE YOU… TOO…”

“And you!” Toriel barked, whipping her head towards Sans. “Where is Frisk? Where is my child?! Who do you have hiding there?! Who are these people?!”

“tori,” Sans said softly, his deep voice calm and steady, and the sound of it alone seemed to help Toriel calm down. “sweetheart-” Gaster grimaced “-frisk is safe, ok? i have ‘em right here. but there is a lot we need to talk about. ah ah ah- don’t get up. don’t touch them. let us talk first, ok?”

Toriel’s ears swiveled, but she listened, releasing Gaster from her healing hold and standing up. “Very well,” she said uncertainly, helping the scientist get back to his feet. “But we can talk away from this miserable place. Come, I can take most of you to my home in the van. The rest can ride with Papyrus in his car.”

Frisk peeked out from behind Sans, then, and clung to him tighter at the sad and regretful look on Toriel’s face. Shyly, they offered her a smile, and only relaxed when they saw her smile back.

“READY FOR ANOTHER RIDE ON THE PAPYRUS EXPRESS, DAD?” Papyrus prompted, scooping his father up into his arms before he could receive an answer, and this time Gaster only let out a choked-off groan of pain. “LEAD THE WAY, MISS TORIEL!”

Toriel froze, her expression contorting into something disturbed as she glanced wildly between Papyrus and Sans. “Gaster… is your father?”

A bead of sweat sliding down Sans’s skull, he quickly asked, “why does that matter? he was just your royal scientist, right?”

“We grew up together. He was my best friend.”

Sans’s eyelights extinguished, Gaster facepalmed, and Papyrus looked in a random direction to announce, “THIS IS AWKWARD.”

Chapter Text

The ride back into the city was long, silent, and awkward.

Toriel drove in front in her van, not trusting Papyrus not to speed off ahead in his red convertible. Riding with her were Gaster, in the passenger seat; Frisk, in the middle booster seat, holding Flowey in a pot in their lap with Sans at their side; and in the back, the monster child and Doctor Clamella. The rest of Gaster’s colleagues were riding with Papyrus, who were all blasting music and laughing as the Surface air whipped past their heads. Toriel’s van, however, was deathly quiet.

Gaster still couldn’t get over the novelty of seeing the Surface outside of his window, even shrouded in darkness and shadow, the headlights illuminating little more than the gravel road that led to Mount Ebott and the ditches beside it. He was riding in a vehicle! On a road! Under the sky! Toriel had to restrain him from opening her van’s hood and inspecting the engine when they reached the base of the mountain, but he did not miss the nostalgic twinkle in her eye… mixed with a deep pain.

Gaster lost his smile and fidgeted, glancing at his long lost friend as she drove, who he caught glancing back.

At long last, the gravel road turned to asphalt, and a little while later they pulled up into the driveway of Toriel’s rented house. 

“Do not unbuckle until the engine is turned off,” Toriel chided, glaring at Doctor Clamella through the rearview mirror before turning the headlights and engine off. The overhead light turned on, letting them see to unbuckle themselves. Sans reached over and helped Frisk unbuckle as they held Flowey aloft to keep him out of the way just as Doctor Clamella helped unbuckle the armless monster child, and Gaster reached to release the mechanism holding him to the seat only for the tremors in his hands to cause him to miss. Furrowing his browbone, he tried again.

Toriel paused in gathering up her purse to eye him with a soft frown. “Do you need help, Gaster?”

Gritting his teeth, Gaster finally managed to press the release, allowing the belt to slide across him and back to the resting position. “I AM… FINE.”

“Hmph… you always were stubborn,” she muttered, looking down and away before opening the door. Gaster didn’t know what to make of that, so he turned and tried to open the door only for pain to sear through his wrists.

“dad, stop,” Sans said tiredly, finally unbuckling himself. “you’ll hurt yourself. let me go get paps.”

Gaster narrowed his sockets and pushed through the pain to lift the handle and push the door open anyway, his teeth chattering.

“welp, i tried to warn you. you’re on your own now, good luck pal,” Sans drawled with a roll of his eyelights, clambering out of the van. 

As everyone else clamorred around the vehicles, Gaster carefully slid out and onto the ground, leaning on the door for support. His vision blacked out for a second from the pain that caused and he grew dizzy, tensing and holding himself perfectly still for a long moment.

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOW AVAILABLE TO ASSIST!” Papyrus announced, stepping up to him and clapping him on the back, winding him and making his vision black out again. 

Blindly, he fished for his youngest’s arm and leaned on it. [IF YOU CAN JUST HELP ME WALK…]

“THAT I CAN DO!” Papyrus chirped, immediately shifting his stance to help brace his father. “THAT’S IT! YOU’RE DOING GREAT! ONE STEP AT A TIME!”

Gaster let out a beleaguered groan, and the two of them slowly followed the others inside the house.

–

Once everyone was situated in the living room and Toriel had called off the search party she deployed to scour the city for Frisk (“you don’t need to call everyone individually, tori, just use the group chat, here-”), they told her… everything.

Well. Almost everything.

Toriel sat there for a long while, staring down at her hands in her lap with wide, teary eyes. 

“Frisk…” she said softly, blinking and turning her head towards the child where they sat alone in a dining chair, holding Flowey close to their stomach, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable. “This whole time… I was… I was interacting with someone else? We were all interacting with someone else?”

Frisk, their face hidden by their hair, softly nodded. 

“THAT… IS AN OVERSIMPLIFICATION,” Gaster rasped. “I WAS WATCHING THEM… FROM THE START. FRISK… YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE ANOMALY… WAS SYMBIOTIC. IT GAVE YOU LIFE AGAIN… IN EXCHANGE FOR CONTROL. BUT THAT CONTROL… WAS NOT ABSOLUTE. THE PERSONALITY THAT… EVERYONE GREW TO LOVE… WAS YOURS. NOT… THE ANOMALY’S.”

Frisk peeked at him through their hair. Their hands flexed around Flowey’s flowerpot. 

“He’s right, you know,” Flowey offered awkwardly, craning his head up to look at the child. “I was watching too. That was you in there flirting with everyone and hugging them, and I could tell you were having a great time! And you spoke your name, Frisk, not theirs.”

Frisk still said nothing, their hands shaking where they gripped the flowerpot.

Toriel spoke, then, leaning forward. “And it’s gone, now? You’re free?”

Frisk nodded again.

“Oh, my child…” she breathed, leaving her seat on the couch to kneel in front of them. “Do you think I do not love you anymore?”

Frisk flinched away from her, and Toriel gasped as Flowey furrowed his brow.

“M’sorry,” Frisk murmured, tears overflowing from their eyes to slip down their pudgy cheeks. Quickly setting Flowey down on the carpet, they yelped “I’m sorry!” before running off to their room, slamming the door shut.

A tense silence nearly suffocated the living room.

Flowey spoke first. “I’m gonna… go check on them,” he said slowly, slithering his roots out of the pot and into the floor, where he ducked down and disappeared.

The monster child spoke next, hopping off the loveseat to carefully approach Toriel where she was quietly crying. Shyly, they nudged her arm with their head and said, “Queen Toriel…? I… I-I know about guilt… and fear… and I, um… I’m scared to see my family again, too. I don’t know much about humans, but… I bet they’re just scared.”

Toriel looked at the child then with soft, glittering eyes, and she gently lifted a hand to cup their cheek. “Oh, you sweet thing. Thank you so much for trying to comfort me. And you should not be scared to see your family, little one. I am sure they missed you very much and would love to see you again.”

The monster child curled their tail around their legs and let out a small noise as they dropped their gaze. “It’s been thirteen years… and I haven’t aged,” they said softly. “They forgot about me. They moved on. And I hurt people… what if they don’t want me back…?”

“If that happens — and it will not — but if that happens, I will personally take you in, and love you as any mother would.”

Sniffling, the monster child nodded. “O-Okay,” they said quietly. “Okay.”

“Your Majesty,” Doctor Chomper began, blushing, “if it is not too much to ask of you, is there any way we could find our families in a timely manner?”

Toriel twitched an ear and turned towards them, wiping away her remaining tears. “The humans created a registry of every monster. I am sure City Hall can help you find your families when they reopen on Monday.”

Sans wearily stood up and slipped his hands into his hoodie with a tired smile. “or we could call asgore,” he suggested. “he has every monster family memorized and keeps track of ‘em all. he could get everyone home by sunrise.”

Toriel made a face.

“tori…” Sans deadpanned, gesturing his skull at the scientists and the child.

Closing her eyes for a long moment, a magical vein bulging in her temple, Toriel took a deep breath and softly said, “You are right… I… I will call-”

“i’ll call him,” Sans interrupted with a wink. “you’d have to unblock his number.”

Toriel huffed and smiled at that, then stood and stepped closer, moving as if to bend down and kiss him when they were interrupted by a rough “AHEM” by Gaster.

Blushing and stepping back from each other, Sans muttered, “i’ll go make the call-” as Toriel mumbled, “I will go fetch some snacks, you must all be famished.” And with that, Sans slipped out the front door and Toriel left for the kitchen.

–

Flowey sprouted up beside the bed and frowned up at where Frisk was hiding under the blankets, appearing only as a lump.

“So maybe it’s the whole ‘soulless’ thing, but I’m not really getting why you’re upset,” Flowey drawled. “Then again, you’re soulless, now, too, huh?”

Chara pushed the blankets off and sat up, staring down at Flowey with a nervous laugh. “Who needs a soul when you have determination?”

“Hardy har,” Flowey huffed. “Of course you’re not upset.”

“Oh, I’m upset,” Chara countered, swinging their shared legs to bounce against the bed frame. “Look me in the eye, Azzy, and tell me you wanna stay with Mom and play house and happy family after everything that happened?”

“First, don’t call me that,” Flowey snapped. “It’s Flowey. FLOW-EY. And second… ehhh, I see your point. I mean, she’s not really my mom anymore.”

Chara raised a brow. “Gaster gave me his memories of watching you taking care of her when she was drunk, you know.”

Flowey’s face contorted as he hissed, “No one was supposed to know about that!”

Chara laughed harder at that and shook their head, then sobered with a sigh. “We all… changed, didn’t we?”

“Okay, sure, that explains us and our baggage, but it doesn’t explain Frisk’s. So what’s their problem?”

“Their mother,” Chara said simply with a shrug. “They seem to think that… they are a burden. And their greatest achievements? Befriending everyone? Saving you? Freeing all the monsters? Was done by someone else.”

“So what, they have some kind of imposter syndrome?”

“It’s not just that,” Chara muttered. “They… miss it.”

“What? Their mom? Their real one?”

“I mean yeah, but… they miss the Player.”

Flowey made a face at that, then seemed to think about it, rubbing his chin with a vine. “So… they don’t want to exist? As themself?”

“It’s more like… they think they hurt everyone. That they… brought this on everyone. The Player turning evil and hurting everyone. That they’re-”

“-a jinx?”

Chara shrugged.

Flowey grimaced. “Jeez, that kid needs therapy.”

A giggle bubbled out of Chara’s throat. “Don’t we all?”

Flowey made a disgusted noise, and Chara laughed harder. 

“Seriously though,” Flowey pressed, “what the hell do we do with Frisk? Are you just going to front forever?”

“I mean…” Chara mused, their red eyes growing dark as their mouth pulled into a smile. “I could destroy them.”

Flowey balked.

“Oh don’t be such an idiot,” Chara barked, kicking out at him. “Obviously we need to roleplay therapy.”

“Okay, which one of us is Frisk and which one of us is the therapist?”

“You be Frisk, and Frisk is the therapist. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I’ll get them, hang on,” Chara announced, closing their eyes. After a minute, they slowly blinked open as Frisk’s characteristic brown.

“Hi, my name is Frisk!” Flowey announced, contorting his face to appear like the child’s, and Frisk shuddered. “I’m a little baby who loves hugging and smooching people! I also think I’m a burden on everyone I’ve ever loved and if they knew who I truly was no one would like me! Also I was mind controlled by a bipolar god who I kinda miss because then I didn’t have to make choices! Should I just run away and disappear forever because that worked so well the first time?”

Biting their lip, Frisk opened and closed their mouth for a long moment before mumbling, “No…”

“Well golly gorsh, what should I do~?”

Blinking at the flower, Frisk fidgeted before managing, “U-Um…”

Flowey batted his eyes.

Wrinkling their nose, Frisk looked away and said, “Do what would make the most people happy.”

Snapping his face back into his natural one, Flowey crowed, “Good job, Frisk! The correct answer is to stay with Toriel!”

“...Okay,” Frisk muttered. “Will… Will you stay with me…?”

Flowey’s smile fell at that, and he sighed. “Just… as long as Toriel doesn’t find out about Chara or me. We’ll stay with you, Frisk, but this all falls apart if Toriel or Asgore find out we’re alive. Half alive. Undead. Whatever.” He paused, then narrowed his eyes. “Which means those skeletons need to know how to shut up. And those scientists. And that punknose kid, if they haven’t spilled the beans already.”

“I’ll stop them,” Frisk swore, determination filtering into their eyes as they slid off the bed and ran off on their socked feet.

–

“hey dad,” Sans prompted, mozying up to his father’s side where he sat on the loveseat, staring into space. “asgore’s outside if you want to see him.”

Gaster startled at that, and opened his mouth to answer just as Frisk came barreling out of the hallway and into the middle of the room, holding out their hands and exclaiming, “No one say anything about you-know-who! Please! It’s a secret!”

Stunned at the lively display from the normally quiet child, the scientists and monster child nervously nodded. Gaster, however, frowned.

“Please, Doctor Gaster,” Frisk said, quieter, trotting up to him and gently grabbing his hand with their little ones. “I know we’re asking you to lie but please, please don’t tell them.”

Gaster’s expression turned pained, and not from his body. “CHILD… IF IT WERE MY BOYS…”

“But it’s not,” Frisk said forcefully. “They don’t want them to know. Please…”

“Frisk?” Toriel prompted, appearing from the kitchen with five paper bags filled with sandwiches and fruit pouches. “Is everything alright, little one?”

Frisk looked pleadingly at Gaster, and Gaster looked to Toriel… but kept his mouth shut.

Swallowing thickly, Frisk stepped away from Gaster and nodded to Toriel. After a long moment, they ran to her and hugged her, hiding their face in her hip. “I’m okay, Mom,” they whispered.

Toriel immediately dropped the sacks of food and knelt down to properly embrace the child, nuzzling her face into their hair with hitched breaths. “Oh, my darling… does this mean you will stay?”

Frisk nodded, relaxing in her grasp. 

Papyrus popped up from his seat to gather up the dropped sack lunches and quickly handed them out to the scientists and monster child (which he had to put on their head), declaring, “BYE BYE EVERYONE! SO NICE TO MEET YOU ALL! SORRY YOU HAVE TO MISS THIS VERY PRIVATE MOMENT!”

“yup, the big guy’s waiting for you outside with his truck,” Sans added, grinning at the small crowd. “wouldn’t want to leave him waiting, that would really get his goat.”

“IF YOU WOULD… DO ME A FAVOR,” Gaster said quickly, straining to get the words out before they could leave, “PLEASE… DO NOT TELL HIM… I AM HERE.”

“Okay!” pipped the monster child. “We won’t tell anyone anyone is anywhere!”

His colleagues nodded in agreement, and Gaster dismissed them with a forced smile before straining to stand up. Papyrus and Sans were both at his side in moments. [I JUST DO NOT WANT HIM TO SEE ME THROUGH THE DOOR.]

“sure, old man, we’ll hide ya from your boyfriend,” Sans joked, helping his little brother double as a crutch, allowing Gaster to hobble towards the kitchen.

Toriel’s ear twitched, and despite herself, she lifted her head and asked, “Boyfriend?”

“NOT LITERALLY,” all three skeletons said in unison.

–

Soon enough, Asgore left with Chomper, Gumdrop, Whiskers, Clamella, and the monster child, leaving the house empty save for Toriel, Flowey, Frisk, and the Asters.

Sitting once more in the living room, they all sipped at various beverages — milk, water, juice, ketchup — and tried to ignore the silence.

“I have been thinking,” Toriel said eventually, turning to Frisk, “and given that it was not your choice to run away… Frisk, you will not be punished. However, it is far past your bedtime, so I will allow you to skip your bath and head to bed with your new… flower friend. May I come with you to kiss you goodnight and tuck you in?”

Mutely, Frisk nodded, setting aside their cup of juice to pick up Flowey in his pot and trot off into the hallway. Toriel excused herself from the skeleton trio and followed the child to the bedroom.

When she returned, she primly sat back down in Chairiel. “As for you two,” Toriel said sharply, giving Sans and Papyrus the stink eye, and the two young men wilted and started to sweat, “I understand wanting to rescue your- your father, but kidnapping my child without telling me? I cannot allow you to walk away without consequence.”

<Toriel,> Gaster weakly signed, using his old sign for her name — the sign for T and kind — feeling much too exhausted to try and force himself to speak Common, <I know you. You would have stopped them had you known. And if they had not gone with the anomaly, it would have gone alone, or worse, would have reset.>

Toriel shifted her cutting gaze to him. “But you do not know me,” she said. “Not anymore. How long has it been, Gaster? Four hundred years since we parted ways? And for good reason. You made your choice then, and these two made theirs. I will not have my pain rationalized away.”

Sans spoke up then, resting a hand on his father’s wrist. “just let her tell us what we gotta do to make it right,” he pleaded with a wan grin. Reluctantly, Gaster sighed and nursed his temple.

“Papyrus,” Toriel announced first, and Papyrus looked like he wanted to sink into the couch and through the floor. “I expected better of you. I trusted you. And so, as consequence… you will spend the weekends doing yard work.”

Papyrus immediately relaxed, chirping, “OH, THAT’S NOT SO B-” only to get elbowed in the ribs by his brother. Choking, he instead managed, “THAT IS FAIR! I WILL WORK AWAY MY SINS!”

“And as for you, Sans…” Toriel muttered, folding her hands in her lap. “You are important to Frisk, and I want you to remain in their life… but it’s over between us.”

Papyrus’s hand shot over his mouth, Gaster’s browbone furrowed, and Sans’s sockets widened. “tori…”

“Do not ‘Tori’ me,” she said sadly, avoiding his gaze. 

Glancing between Toriel and Sans, Gaster let out a long, beleaguered sigh and shakily heaved himself up to his feet. Summoning spectral hands, he signed, <Toriel. Would you kindly help me outside? We need to talk.>

Looking caught off-guard, Toriel reluctantly nodded and stood, stepping closer to help support the old skeleton and guide him to the front door. Behind them, Papyrus and Sans shared bewildered glances.

Once the front door shut behind them and they were on the front stoop, Gaster asked for help sitting down, and Toriel carefully lowered him until he was situated on the top step. Gaster patted the concrete beside him, and with a clenched jaw, Toriel sat down at his side.

“What,” she huffed.

<May I be frank?>

“I thought your name was Gaster.”

Gaster leveled her with a withering glare, and Toriel tugged at her ear. His expression finally softening, Gaster signed, <Why must you always choose to sabotage yourself?>

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Gaster took a moment to steel himself, then firmly signed, <We may no longer be best friends, but when I finally found you again from the void I wept with relief that you were alive. I was with you through a thousand timelines. I saw your loneliness, your pain, your fear. I saw you drink yourself into a stupor and fast for weeks, living in squalor. And through all of it, in the wake of your childrens’ deaths, what was the only thing that made you smile? That made you laugh?>

Toriel pinned her ears back and hugged herself. “It was him.”

<Exactly.>

“But Gaster… Sans is your-” she gagged slightly “-your son-”

<And did that matter when I was out of your life? When you had forgotten me, when I was good as dead? Do not look at that man and see him as the child of a man who hurt you. Toriel, I do not care if the two of you are in a relationship. I do not care if you never want to see me again, to want anything to do with me; I do not care if you spit on my name and curse me to the grave, but do you know what I do care about? Him. S-A-N-S. And you. And outside of family, you are each other’s only friends in the world.>

“But he-”

<Went with your child to protect them and guide them on a mission that you could not or would not go on? Is that not what he did before? The entity brought me back and was determined to seek me out without you. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you would be happier if he let them go alone so he could tell you instead?>

“He could have called, or texted-”

<The entity would not tolerate a snitch.>

Letting out a growl, Toriel shook out her arms and whined, “I hate that you’re right!” before covering her eyes with hitched breaths. “I was just… I was so scared, Gaster… I have endured eight of my children dying… if I lost Frisk, I… I-I…”

Gaster reached out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched away.

“Don’t,” she snapped, whipping her head up out of her hands to look at him in anguish. “Don’t,” she repeated, softer.

Gaster frowned and dropped his gaze, stimming idly with his hands as he stared off into the night.

“Okay,” Toriel said softly, nodding. “Okay… I… I do not want to let him go… He is my only friend… and the only person I think I could ever love again.” Gaster relaxed. “But,” Toriel continued, regret and pain filtering further into her expression as she met Gaster’s eyelights. “You… experimented on them,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You helped him, you chose your hatred over your friendship with me. And now, seeing you again after all this time, I… Oh, Gaster, I want so desperately for us to be children again, picking flowers and playing in the creek, but you are no longer that sweet little boy. Somewhere along the way a darkness entered your soul, and I do not like it… nor do I want it in my life.”

After a long moment, faintly rattling, Gaster rasped, “FAIR.” Then, quieter, dropping his eyelights to his hands, he managed, “...I AM SORRY.”

“I am afraid it is too late for apologies,” Toriel said quietly. “But… I appreciate you trying.”

She reached out, then, and gently took his hand in her soft paw, encasing it.

He knew the feeling of a goodbye.

–

Coming back inside alone, Toriel smiled at the two brothers and said, “Your father seems to have stolen my anger. I apologize for acting so rashly. Papyrus, you have enough on your plate ensuring that humans and monsters live peacefully. I will not ask any more from you. And as for you, Sans…” She hesitated for a long moment. “If… you can forgive me… I would very much like to spend time with you again after you spend some quality time with your father.”

Sans quirked a brow. “it’s not too weird that… y’know… you and my dad had some kind of legendary falling out after growing up together?”

“Gaster is Gaster. But you are Sans,” Toriel said simply. “And you should not be defined by your father.”

Sans’s permagrin ticked up higher. “phew,” he said with a wink. “boy am i glad you can love this son of a bitch.”

Toriel barked out a laugh as Papyrus whirled on Sans, scandalized, which just made her laugh harder. “Oh, come here, you,” Toriel giggled, walking up to him and bending down.

“I DON’T NEED THIS,” Papyrus deadpanned, standing up. “SANS, I WILL BE OUTSIDE WITH DAD WHEN YOU’RE DONE BEING… SILLY BILLIES!” And with that, he marched out the front door, leaving the two monsters to giggle and kiss.

Chapter Text

[YOU OWN A CAR?] Gaster asked, slightly dazed, as Papyrus helped him into the passenger seat.

“‘OWN’ IS A… STRONG WORD,” Papyrus said with a faint chuckle. “I AM, HOWEVER, MAKING PAYMENTS TO OWN IT! IT’S AN OLD MODEL AND I GET PAID A LOT AS THE AMBASSADOR OF MONSTERS, SO BY MY CALCULATIONS, I WILL OWN THIS CAR IN… MM… THIRTY YEARS!”

Gaster blinked as Papyrus jumped into the driver’s seat and Sans sprawled out to lie down in the back. [HOW MUCH IS THE KING PAYING YOU…?]

“OH, THE KING ISN’T PAYING ME,” Papyrus corrected, turning the key in the ignition. “TECHNICALLY I’M A MEMBER OF CONGRESS, SO I GET PAID WITH ‘TAX DOLLARS.’ I EARN FIFTEEN THOUSAND A YEAR! ISN’T THAT AMAZING?”

[AND HOW MUCH DOES THE CAR COST?]

“TWENTY GRAND!”

Gaster did some very quick math in his head. [THAT’S 666 ‘TAX DOLLARS’ PER YEAR. YOU ARE ONLY PAYING FIFTY-FIVE FIFTY A MONTH? WHERE IS THE REST OF IT GOING?]

Papyrus backed out of Toriel’s driveway and set them off to drive further into the city. “RENT, FOOD, UTILITIES, THIS THING CALLED THE ‘INTERNET,’ INSURANCE, AND TAXES!”

[YOU NEED TO PAY TAXES WITH YOUR TAX DOLLARS?]

“I KNOW IT’S WEIRD, BUT SO ARE HUMANS!”

[WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GOLD OF THE KINGDOM? DO THE HUMANS ACCEPT IT, OR DID THEY CONVERT-?]

“they dissolved our currency,” Sans answered with a hand wave. “gold is virtually worthless up here and is ‘archaic,’ so for the first few months we were all living in processing camps. paps here negotiated aid programs to get monsters affordable housing and employment services. he was so cool. still is.”

Gaster’s expression turned sour before he could hide it by looking away. Papyrus immediately caught it. “DO YOU THINK I COULD DO BETTER…? I-I MEAN, I CAN, JUST-”

[POPPET, POPPET, NO, AS ALWAYS YOU ARE PERFECT,] Gaster was quick to correct, gingerly touching his son’s shoulder. [I JUST… THE LAST TIME I WAS ON THE SURFACE, YOU MUST UNDERSTAND… THESE HUMANS’ ANCESTORS WERE CULLING US LIKE RATS. YOU MUST FORGIVE ME FOR HARBORING… LESS THAN AMICABLE THOUGHTS ABOUT THEIR INTENTIONS.]

“it must be way different having actually lived through the war versus us just hearing about it,” Sans mused with a shrug. “it’s ancient history to me.”

“WITH ALL THAT BEING SAID,” Papyrus said, strained, “CAN WE PLEASE STOP DISCUSSING POLITICS ON MY OFF-DAYS? ALSO, SANS, SIT UP AND BUCKLE UP PLEASE, THERE’S A LOT OF COPS AROUND HERE.”

“on it,” Sans chirped with a yawn, dragging himself upright and buckling up.

[RIGHT,] Gaster said carefully, patting Papyrus’s shoulder again. [I APOLOGIZE, MY CHILD. I WILL REFRAIN FROM TALKING ABOUT POLITICS.]

Papyrus offered him a smile, then, and kept driving into the inner city.

Around three o’clock in the morning, Papyrus finally pulled up onto a rundown street choked with apartment buildings of various shapes and sizes and parked in front of a four-story one. Turning off the headlights and the engine, Papyrus announced, “HOME SWEET HOME!” 

Gaster stared up at the building, backlit by light pollution, and felt himself tear up.

A home on the Surface… it was all he ever wanted to give his boys, and they got it all on their own.

Except they’re not your boys, whispered a faint voice.

They’re not real, whispered another. 

Your children are dead.

Shut up, Gaster snapped in his head. Shut up shut up shut up.

“dad?”

Gaster blinked and found himself staring at the open door of the car, his sons standing with their arms outstretched to help him stand, looking at him with concern. 

[SORRY,] Gaster rasped, taking their hands and choking back a whimper as they pulled him up onto his feet. 

“THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO NEED TO BE SORRY!” Papyrus quickly countered, wrapping a strong arm around his back and supporting his weight to help him walk.

“yeah, it makes sense that you’d be pretty rattled for a while,” Sans said with a wink. 

[HOW HUMERUS,] Gaster deadpanned, making Sans snort-laugh and Papyrus let out a bellowing groan that echoed through the street.

Limping inside the building with the help of his sons, Gaster paused to take in the foyer — a monotonous beige thing with a floor covered in dead bugs and lit by a flickering fluorescent light that smelled like cat urine. A staircase wound up past a central column with an elevator, with a sign on the doors that read ‘OUT OF ORDER.’

“so, story time,” Sans began, “me an’ paps move into this place, and honestly it’s not that bad compared to other ‘affordable housing’ options around here, but the elevator’s been broke since we got here. and we live on the fourth floor. so i, being the lazybones that i am, tried to fix the elevator, right? putting in effort so i don’t have to put in effort. ironic. i love it. anyway, apparently that counts as ‘property damage’ and a ‘violation of the lease.’ long story short, you can’t use the elevator. sorry old man.”

Gaster stared at the elevator for a long, morose moment with extinguished eyelights.

“I CAN CARRY YOU UP THE STAIRS?” Papyrus offered.

[OR…] Gaster mused. [SANS.]

“yup?”

[WHAT ARE THE COORDINATES FOR YOUR APARTMENT?]

Papyrus threw his head back with a groan and yelled, “AT THIS RATE I MAY AS WELL FLY US ALL UP TO THE BALCONY!”

Gaster turned to his youngest and blinked. [...RIGHT. YOU CAN FLY NOW.]

“I CAN FLY NOW!”

“he can fly now.”

[...COOL.]

“the coolest.”

“NYEH HEH HEH!”

[WELL IN THAT CASE…] Gaster drawled, smiling, [WOULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO FLY US HOME, POPPET?]

“BACK OUT WE GO!” Papyrus chirped, guiding Gaster back out onto the street, with Sans lazily shuffling behind. Once on the sidewalk and looking up at the balconies, Papyrus tucked his father and brother against his sides and… started jogging in place. If Gaster hadn’t seen Papyrus fly before, he would have questioned this behavior, but sure enough, the three skeletons began to lift up off the ground, gently flying up the four stories to their apartment balcony. Gaster clung to Papyrus and rattled, but Sans seemed to doze off in the secure hold of his brother, and a teenage human watched them through their window with comically round eyes and a dropped jaw.

Landing gracefully on the balcony, Papyrus handed Gaster off to Sans so he could open the sliding door and turn the lights on. “HERE WE ARE!”

Limping inside, it was a far cry from their house in the Underground, but… that was still their lumpy green couch, their coffee table, and their TV, now kept in a much smaller space of gray carpet and white walls with a popcorn ceiling. A small alcove at the front harbored the front door, and beside it was a small room — a bathroom, Gaster guessed — that separated the front door from the cramped kitchen space. To their right was a wall with two doors — one riddled with various stickers and signs, and the other barren save for… rave-like light dancing out from underneath it. Their bone portrait was hung in between them.

“it ain’t much, but we get to watch the sun rise every day,” Sans drawled, closing the sliding door behind them. “we uh… we weren’t really expecting you, so this place is just a two bedroom… it really ribs me that you got nowhere to sleep and that we threw all your old things out, heheh…”

Gaster’s smile fell as pain lanced through his SOUL, and with a guilty glance at his oldest son, he opened his mouth to say… something. To apologize? To praise them? Instead, all that came out was a stilted, [I DO NOT WISH TO INTRUDE…]

“NONSENSE!” Papyrus barked, waving him off. “YOU CAN SLEEP IN MY BED, AND I CAN SLEEP WITH SANS! MY CLOTHES SHOULD ALSO FIT YOU, SO YOU CAN HAVE MY SPARES! ARE YOU HUNGRY? I CAN ALSO GET YOU SOMETHING TO EAT! I’VE BEEN TOO BUSY TO COOK LATELY BUT I THINK WE HAVE LEFTOVER TAKEOUT IN THE FRIDGE! WAIT- WHAT AM I SAYING?! THIS IS A SPECIAL OCCASION! I’M MAKING SPAGHETTI!”

Papyrus rushed off into the kitchen, then, leaving Sans to wink up at his father. “well i guess that solves all our problems, huh?”

Gaster’s frown grew deeper as a purple flush dusted his cheekbones, and his gaze slid away.

Sans’s permagrin fell with a sigh. “c’mon, old man,” he muttered, herding Gaster to the couch. Once Gaster was seated, leaned back against the cushions and panting in pain, Sans carefully sat down beside him and used Papyrus’s bustling around in the kitchen to quietly ask, “everything ok?”

Was everything okay? Was everything okay? There were a billion things that were nowhere near okay, all of them weighing heavily on Gaster’s shoulders, choking him up and making his cracked and scarred bones rattle and his eyesockets sting. Everything was so apocalyptically overwhelming — dueling, clashing emotions of ecstasy, grief, joy, regret, pride, and despair, as well as a thousand others. Quickly, he lifted a hand and pulled his glasses off with a rrrip of the tape, scrubbing at his sockets.

Sans grimaced. “is it the pain? i mean… i can try to heal you but if paps couldn’t do anything i sure as hell can’t. maybe take the edge off for a bit?”

Gaster shook his head and whispered back, [IT IS NOT THAT. YES, I AM IN INCREDIBLE PAIN, BUT…] His breath hitched, and his rattling grew louder as tears clouded his vision, and with a growl and grind of his teeth he wiped them away. [I MISSED SO MUCH OF YOUR LIVES,] he rasped. [I WAS SUPPOSED TO PROTECT AND GUIDE YOU, BUT INSTEAD YOU RAISED YOUR BROTHER YOURSELF, AND THE TWO OF YOU TOGETHER HAD TO LEARN HOW TO STAND ON YOUR OWN BECAUSE I WAS NOT THERE. WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO BURDEN YOU BOTH, CATERING AND HOUSING ME WHEN I FAILED TO BE A FATHER FOR SO MANY YEARS? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I SAW YOU BOTH DIE AND DID NOTHING, FELT NOTHING?]

“keep it down,” Sans hissed, glancing at Papyrus where the young man was whistling and stirring the spaghetti. Assured that his little brother was not privy to their conversation, Sans looked back to his father and said, “now look. i’m sorry i can’t begin to understand what you went through, and i’m sorry i suck at uh… emotional issues. but the past is the past. what’s done is done, right? you’re here now. you can be our dad now. and we want you in our lives, dad, we always have and we always will. so take your guilt complex or whatever, put it in a box, and bury it, ok? we’ll figure this out. one day, one step at a time.”

Still uncertain, but not wanting to burden his son any further, Gaster nodded and tried to tape his glasses back on, only for them to immediately fall off. His first instinct was to have a complete and utter meltdown, but instead of doing that, Gaster shakily folded them and tucked them into his lab coat pocket before stimming with the holes in his palms. Sans reached out and wrapped a small hand around his knee, and the anchor to reality helped him breathe a little easier. Sparing a hand to hold his son’s, Gaster looked over at his oldest child and smiled at him; small, shaky, and fearful… but genuine. And Sans gave him an exhausted yet genuine grin back.

A few minutes later, Papyrus arrived with a plate of spaghetti, which he presented to his father with a flourish. “BONE APPETITE!”

Chuckling, Gaster accepted the plate with a similar smile and signed <Thank you> before shakily grabbing his fork with a tremoring hand and spiraling the pasta onto it. 

What did food taste like…? He couldn’t remember.

Both his sons watched with rapt attention as he brought the spaghetti to his teeth.

He took a bite.

. . . 

His eyelights grew so big they almost bugged out of his sockets, and the next thing he knew, he was scarfing down his youngest son’s cooking, shoveling it into his mouth as efficiently as his failing arms would allow.

Sans and Papyrus watched, stunned, the few seconds it took for Gaster to finish the entire plate.

Breathing heavily with spaghetti sauce all over his skull, Gaster shivered and stammered, [THAT… IS THE MOST DELICIOUS MEAL… I HAVE EVER EATEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.]

“WOWIE…!” Papyrus mused, his sockets bugging out as a big fat tear leaked down his cheekbone. “MY DAD LIKES MY COOKING!”

[I AM SO BLESSED TO HAVE SUCH A GREAT AND TALENTED YOUNG MAN AS MY SON!]

Papyrus hopped in place and flapped his hands, then, before taking the plate and pressing a skeleton kiss to the top of Gaster’s skull, skipping off to the kitchen to deposit it in the sink. Behind his back, Sans winked at his father and nodded approvingly. “lemme go get you some of pap’s clothes to change into while you wash up in the bathroom,” he drawled, patting Gaster on the shoulder before heaving himself up to his feet and shuffling off to his brother’s room. Papyrus returned shortly after that, helping Gaster hobble to the bathroom where he was able to take a quick sponge bath and brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush. A knock came at the door while he was in there and Sans opened the door just enough to fish his arm in and drop an outfit on the floor before closing it.

Gaster weakly fished the articles of clothing off the ground from where he sat on a human ‘toilet’ and inspected them: some bone patterned black socks, a pair of gray sweatpants, and a… hot pink crop top hoodie that read ‘BLESS THIS MESS’.

Opening the bathroom door and bracing himself in the doorway with a weak flourish, his sons clapped.

Finally, at long last, he was led to Papyrus’s room and helped down into his youngest’s race car bed, where his sons tucked him into bed. “‘night, dad.”

[GOODNIGHT, MY FUNNYBONES. GOODNIGHT, POPPET.]

Sans huffed a gentle laugh and turned to leave, only for Papyrus to stay, fidgeting with his gloved hands. Looking back, Sans’s browbone furrowed. “you coming bro?”

Papyrus fidgeted even more and shook out his hands before asking, [WHO STARTED READING ME BEDTIME STORIES FIRST? YOU OR SANS?]

Gaster frowned and struggled to sit up. [ME,] he said softly.

“I CAN’T REMEMBER YOU EVER READING ME ANY,” Papyrus said stiltedly, lowering his gaze. [CAN YOU…] he started, slipping into Wingdings. He didn’t even seem to notice, and he suddenly looked so incredibly small for such a large man. [CAN YOU READ…]

Smiling gently, Gaster glanced at the bookshelf tucked against the far wall. [I AM SURE THERE IS A STORY ABOUT A FLUFFY BUNNY THAT I RECALL IS YOUR FAVORITE.]

Papyrus looked cautiously delighted, but Gaster did not miss the brief flash of apprehension on Sans’s face.

[WOULD YOU LIKE TO FETCH THE BOOK AND HELP ME READ IT, SANS?] 

Sans’s expression lit up like Gyftmas, then, and he mozied off to the bookshelf while Papyrus bounced into the bed with an excited squeal, jostling the mattress and making Gaster yelp in pain. “SORRY, SORRY!”

“careful, bro,” Sans chuckled, pulling out Peek-a-Boo With Fluffy Bunny and mozying up to the bed, shuffling up onto the mattress and into the cradle of Gaster’s arm to be tucked close against his side, and Papyrus snuggled up to Gaster’s other side, resting his head on his father’s shoulder. “arright, here we go… once upon a time there was a fluffy bunny…”

[AND FLUFFY BUNNY HAD NO FRIENDS,] Gaster continued, tugging Papyrus even closer.

.

.

.

–

Sans fell asleep halfway through the story, gently snoozing with his head tucked against Gaster’s hoodie, leaving Gaster to read, [...AND FLUFFY BUNNY PLAYED HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH ALL HIS FRIENDS.]

Papyrus, barely awake, smiled and sleepily murmured, [THE ENDING ALWAYS GETS ME… THANKS, DAD…]

[ANY TIME, DARLING BOY. DO YOU WANT TO TAKE YOUR BROTHER AND HEAD TO BED NOW? …PAPYRUS?]

A snore was all that answered him. On one side, he was flanked by a quiet honk-shoo, while Papyrus made a clearer SNRRT-MIMIMIMI.

Gaster’s eyelights glowed purple, then, and he smiled, the corners of his sockets crinkling as he gently set the book on the floor and settled down to sleep, and his SOUL may not have been connected to his sons’ anymore… but he could still feel them beating. He could still feel them resonating with his, calling out to it in their sleep… and his returning the call.

After sleep finally took him, the three skeletons’ SOULs glowed in unison, shining through the blankets in soft white hues.

And that night, no nightmare plagued any of the Asters.

Chapter Text

Asgore hadn’t known what to think when he saw his lost team of forgotten scientists. He’d been mortified that he’d forgotten them and that they’d been left behind in the Underground, and relieved that all of them seemed no worse for wear, save for the small child that was with them. The monster child was shy and quiet and so terribly sad looking, and when Asgore tried to ask what was wrong, Doctor Clamella answered that the poor thing had been lost in a state of animated suspension for the past thirteen years. Asgore wasn’t entirely sure what ‘animated suspension’ meant, but he decided not to pry in the presence of the little one. What mattered was that they were all found and accounted for. 

All of them but one.

He tried to ask them about Gaster. ‘Tried’ being the key term. All he got in return was a flurry of nervous glances and shrugs.

He spent hours driving each of them to the homes of their families with a deep pit in his stomach shrouded by a veil of dissociated numbness. 

Some reunions were more happy than others. Doctor Chomper had a joyous reunion with their partner and child, though Doctors Whiskers and Clamella had to find out that their spouses remarried. Doctor Gumdrop’s parents passed away, leaving only her estranged sister. All in all, by the time it was the monster child’s turn, they were shaking and chewing on their tail.

Asgore shook himself out of the hollowness that settled inside his chest to glance down at the small pink lizard. “Are you afraid, little one?”

Still chewing on their tail, the child nodded. 

“Is there anything I can do to ease your fear?”

Spitting their tail out of their mouth, the child looked up at him with big, round eyes and stuttered, “Can you tell me everything you know about my family?”

Asgore stopped at a red light and nodded, offering the child a gentle smile. “Your mothers, after you were gone, became very depressed. They may not have remembered you, but the bond between a monster parent and their child is a powerful thing. I visited them often, asking what had them so sad and hopeless, and do you know what they said?”

The monster child perked up slightly.

“That ‘something was missing,’” Asgore answered, accelerating gently when the light turned green. 

“Oh…” the child said softly, sounding sadder. “They didn’t… they didn’t Fall Down, d-did they…?”

“Quite the opposite, dear one. Not only am I taking you to your mothers, alive and well, but you also have two little siblings! Though one is… technically older than you, by now.”

“Wow…” the child breathed, smiling and kicking their feet. “A little big sibling! That’s funny!” Now bouncing in their seat, they asked, “How long until we get there?!”

“Oh, I imagine ten minutes at this time of night.”

“Thank you Mr. King!” the child chirped, sticking their head out the window to beam at the city. This only lasted a few seconds before they pulled their head back in to announce, “You can ask me some questions now if you want! It’s only fair.”

Asgore chuckled faintly as street lights passed them by in slow blinking patterns, only for his expression to fall and his ears to droop.

“King Dreemurr?” the child asked hesitantly. “Why are you sad?”

“Oh… Please, do not worry about me, little one. You should not be burdened with the grief of an old man.”

“But what if I can help?”

“I doubt you can help with this.”

“Well it’s my fault I killed all your scientists for a little bit,” the child mumbled, “So…”

Asgore’s brow furrowed as he glanced at the child. “What ever do you mean?”

Curling their tail around themself, the child confessed, “Doctor Gaster was my hero growing up.” Asgore flinched at the name. “I wanted to be a scientist just like him. So when the CORE’s sirens went off, I ran back in while everybody else was running out, because the CORE was my favorite thing in the world and I knew everything about it that wasn’t classified. I wanted to help, so- so I ran to the heart, and there was this machine there. It looked broken, so I tried to fix it, b-but I accidentally t-turned it on, and…”

Reaching out a large paw, Asgore gently grasped the child’s shoulder in a firm grip and said, “Please… you were only trying to help. It is alright. But, I must ask… when you and the others returned to this world, was Gaster with you…?”

The child immediately brightened. “Yes! Yes! He was rescued too by the Angel!”

The tires screeched as the truck jerked to a stop in the middle of the abandoned street, and the seatbelts caught them both.

Shaking himself and forcing himself to turn onto the street bearing the house of the child’s family, Asgore asked, “Do you know where he is? H-He was not with the others, and I assumed the worst…”

“Uhhhhhhh,” the child drawled, blushing and looking incredibly guilty.

Clearing his throat, Asgore pressed, “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

“He said, um… he didn’t want you to know he was there.”

Finally parking on the street in front of the house of the child’s family, Asgore put his truck into park and shut the lights and engine off, staring blankly out the windshield.

His eyes stung.

“Y-Your Majesty…?”

Right. There was more to worry about.

Taking all of his emotions and thoughts and shoving them down into a tight box that he tucked away in a deep dark corner of his mind, Asgore turned to the child with a kind smile and asked, “Would you like me to accompany you to the door, little one?”

“You’re not mad…?”

“Of course I am not mad, child. You followed a request from an adult you trust. Now please, let us stop talking of such things and reunite you with your family, hmm?”

The child gave him a tentative smile, then. “You won’t leave until you’re sure they’ll accept me, right…?”

“I promise.”

The child seemed satisfied with that, and so Asgore unbuckled them and himself and got out of the truck, walking around to open the door for them. If they had a hand, he would have held it as he guided them to the door, but he settled for keeping a comforting hand on their back as they walked up the front steps. All the lights were off inside, so with only a faint blush, Asgore pounded on the door.

Immediately the lights flicked on.

Hyperventilating at his side, the armless pink monster child let out a whimper, prompting Asgore to grasp their shoulder reassuringly before the door was opened by a multicolored snake monster. “Your Majesty? Wha-”

She cut herself off as soon as she saw her long lost child.

“Mommy? Who is it?”

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

Tears immediately flooded the snake woman’s eyes as she sobbed, “Baby?”

Similarly teary-eyed, the pink child cried, “Mommy!”

Immediately, the snake dove out the door and coiled around her little one in a tight and all-encompassing hug, revealing the two armless spiked children peeking around the corner of the hallway — a larger blue one, a girl, and a little nonbinary yellow one dressed in Papyrus pajamas, both of them looking utterly confused.

“Darling?” called a multicolored stegosaurus monster, coming around the corner. “Is everything al- …Angel above…”

“Mama!” cried the pink child, and Asgore had to retreat down the stairs to allow the large woman to stampede to her wife and firstborn, sweeping them both up and into her arms as all three loudly sobbed.

“My baby, my baby, we thought you were dead-”

“-you’re alive, you’re alive-!”

“We will never allow you out of our sights again!”

“Nothing will harm you ever again!”

“It’s a miracle! A miracle!”

“Mama?” called the yellow child, trotting out into the hallway. “Who is that?”

Sniffling, the stegosaurus monster let go and wiped at her tears, turning to the other two children with a smile. “Oh, my darling, this is your oldest sibling. Please, please, come meet them!”

“You don’t look older than big sis,” the yellow child mused, trotting closer with a curious grin while the blue child warily hung back.

Fiddling with his ear, Asgore offered the family a small smile and drawled, “This moment deserves some privacy. I will head on home— unless you need anything?”

Stomping down the stairs to him, the stegosaurus monster clutched him in a ferocious hug. “You brought our baby back to us, and I don’t know how nor do I want to know, but thank you, thank you! We couldn’t ask anything more from you! Our family is whole again!”

“I am afraid I cannot take any credit,” Asgore said gently, patting the mother on the back. “Others than I rescued your little one from the Underground. I was merely their method of transport.”

“Still! You are a fine King, Asgore! A fine King indeed! We cannot thank you enough!”

Asgore’s smile failed at that, and gently he pried himself from the woman’s grasp, clasping one of her hands in both of his. “Be well, ma’am. And please, take all the time with your children you need.”

Nodding, the stegosaurus monster jogged back to her family and called, “This is cause for celebration! Who wants some 3AM ice cream?!”

As the other monsters cheered, Asgore turned and walked to his truck, shutting the driver’s side door at the same time the front door of the house shut, leaving him in silence.

The familiar sound of two little laughs rang in his ears, echoing in his head like the ghosts they were, and soon his vision swam to show flashes of white fur and rosy cheeks.

“I bet I could take the God of Hyperdeath in a fight!”

“Nuh uh! He has infinite attack and infinite defense, he’s the strongest monster- n-no, he’s the strongest anything ever!”

“Um, he shoots rainbows. What is he from, Rainbow Brite?”

“I don’t even know what that is!”

“It’s a human TV show, there’s this girl, she has a rainbow horse- ugh, nevermind.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it!”

“About the rainbow horse?”

“...No… But if you like it, I wanna know about it!”

“...I… I-I don’t like talking about my old life, Azzy.”

“Oh…”

“...”

“...I think you’re right. I think you could take the God of Hyperdeath in a fight.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah! You can beat anything, Chara! I believe in you more than anything!”

“...That’s… Th-That’s so- Oh, c’mere!”

Asriel squealed as Chara put him in a headlock and noogied the tuft of hair at the top of his head, and Asgore shared a conspiratorial smile with Toriel as they finally ceased their eavesdropping at their children’s bedroom door, tiptoeing away to their own bedroom with silent giggles.

A sob slipped from Asgore’s mouth as he scrubbed at his eyes with shaking paws.

“Pull yourself together,” he chastised himself, gasping in a hitched breath as he turned the key in the ignition to drive home. “That is quite enough of that.”

But his mind apparently decided it wasn’t, as the red of every stoplight turned into the blood at the edges of Chara’s slack mouth, and every vibration of the road turned into the feeling of Asriel’s body breaking apart into dust in his hands.

A human blared their horn at him as he ran a stop sign, and Asgore’s grip tightened around the steering wheel so much that the casing splintered.

Finally, he pulled into the driveway of… ‘home’... and shut off the truck.

He met his own gaze in the rearview mirror for a long moment. The bags under his orange and blue eyes were deep and dark, and the glitter of the golden crown atop his head…

As much as I treasure our friendship you are my King, and I, your Royal Scientist. We have duties. Obligations. Responsibilities. This is wholly unprofessional behavior. I do not judge you for such outlandish fantasies because I understand that you are still struggling with grief over all that has happened.

Dropping his gaze, Asgore opened the door to the truck and wearily got out, shutting it behind him before slowly walking to the front door of his own rented house, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

He used to not lock the door, leaving behind a note for any monsters to please take whatever they needed. It only took two days for humans to walk in and steal his couch, his TV, his microwave, his coffee maker, all of his money, the last keepsakes he had of his parents, the copper wiring… They didn’t steal his bed. But they did shit on it.

At least they didn’t harm his photographs.

Locking the door behind him, Asgore immediately took off the crown and tossed it onto the table beside the front door with a shaky sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face before wandering down the hall to his bedroom (long since cleaned). Asriel’s macaroni art still hung on the wall, as well as the photograph of he, his wife, and his children on Chara’s ‘birthday’ — Chara never confided in them their birthday, and so they made do with the date they fell into the Underground. Chara seemed to like it better.

Asgore stared at it for a long while. 

Then, he took it down, as well as Asriel’s art, and carefully, reverently inserted them both into one of his many scrapbooks, which he then placed inside a hope chest. He locked it, then pulled up the old loose floorboard to tuck the key in, covering it back up with the low knock of wood.

Sitting on his bed, he stared down at his hands.

…Why did Gaster not want to see him?

Did the reason really matter?

Of course it matters, hissed that stubborn flickering hope that sat in his SOUL. Maybe you can fix it.

In all the centuries of his long life, what was a single thing he was able to fix, the other parts of him argued. Who had he ever loved who had not died or left him?

He deserved nothing more.

Glancing at his bedside clock, it read 5AM.

“A poor time for thinking such thoughts,” Asgore admonished gently, crawling under the covers. He couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas. 

–

The weekend passed in a fugue.

–

Monday came, and with it came the same old rituals. Get up. Shower. Get dressed. Have a cup of tea. And drive to the capitol building.

But something was off.

Every weekday morning, Papyrus would always wait for him at the entrance to the capitol building so they could walk in together. But today, he was nowhere to be found. Even his red convertible was missing from the staff parking garage.

He went to check his pocketwatch, then remembered that it got stolen, too.

Anxiously pinning his ears back, Asgore gave one last look over the commons for his ambassador before heading inside with a sigh.

“Your Majesty,” greeted the senate majority leader as Asgore stepped inside his office, a pale skinned human with balding gray hair and spectacles named Dick Corlack. The honorific always sounded sarcastic on his tongue. “Please, have a seat.”

His father, King Goren, would have raised an almighty stink over the lack of standing and bowing at his presence, but Asgore could not be brought to care. Instead, he inclined his head and sat down.

“I must ask- Where is your ambassador?”

Asgore opened his mouth to respond when the door suddenly flew open with a crash, revealing a panting Papyrus clutching a mess of loose papers. “I’M HERE! I’M HERE! SORRY!”

Dick Corlack wrinkled his nose as Asgore responded, “It is no trouble, Papyrus. Please, I saved you a seat.” With a smile, he patted the second chair in front of the Senator’s desk, and Papyrus beamed at him before booting the door shut with his hipbone and plopping down at his side.

“If there are no further… interruptions…” Dick Corlack mused, peering down through his glasses at a file on his desk. “This meeting is in recognition of your request to grant monsters Constitutional rights. According to your written report, you argue that, due to the status of monsters as tax-paying citizens, they deserve equal protections under our national Constitution: the right to private property, to vote, to adopt human children, and the like.”

“AND TO DESEGREGATE OUR SCHOOLS!” Papyrus interrupted, shuffling his papers and fishing out a pair of glasses that he hastily taped onto his skull. “EQUAL OPPORTUNITIES IN EDUCATION IS ALSO IMPORTANT! IT SAYS HERE THAT MONSTER SCHOOLS ARE RECEIVING ONLY SIXTY PERCENT OF THE FUNDS THAT OTHER SCHOOLS RECEIVE IN SIMILAR PROPERTY VALUE DISTRICTS.”

Dick Corlack dismissed that with a hand wave. “There are less monster children than human children, therefore it correlates with less funding. As for desegregation: human children cannot fire lasers at their classmates. This is a safety measure for both our people.”

“BUT YOU HAVEN’T CONSIDERED ALL THE FACTS!”

“And what would that be?”

“THAT THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

“Mm. Noted. In any case-”

“Ahem,” Asgore said sternly. “If I may, I would like to note that there have been zero incidents of magic usage on humans by any monster children, nor have there been any incidents of unsanctioned magic usage in schools.”

Dick Corlack’s upper lip pulled up slightly as he responded, “You must note that you had to specify ‘children.’ Adult monsters have used magic against humans in three separate instances.”

“In self defense.”

“Remind me again, Your Majesty, what children do on the playground?”

“This is getting nowhere,” Asgore drawled, shaking his head. 

“Indeed it is not.”

“THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL GET IT SOMEWHERE!” Papyrus crowed, holding up a piece of paper with a large graph on it and pointing. “THIS BAR HERE SHOWS HOW MUCH TAX REVENUE THE GOVERNMENT CURRENTLY EARNS FROM MONSTERS-”

“So far your kind are a massive expense.”

“-BUT THIS BAR HERE IS HOW MUCH YOU WOULD EARN IF MONSTERS WERE GRANTED EQUAL RIGHTS AND PROTECTIONS! MONSTERS FUNCTION OFF OF HAPPINESS AND HOPE, SENATOR, SO THE HAPPIER WE ARE, THE MORE PRODUCTIVE WE ARE! RIGHT NOW, MONSTERS ARE SAVING THEIR MONEY AND NOT INVESTING IN ANYTHING, BECAUSE WE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO INVEST. BUT IF WE WERE… IMAGINE! YOUR GOVERNMENT CLAIMS THAT MONSTERS ARE A BURDEN ON THE TAXPAYER, (EVEN THOUGH WE ALSO PAY TAXES.) WITH MONSTERS FULLY INTEGRATED AS EQUAL CITIZENS, THE ECONOMY WOULD ENTER AN IMMENSE PERIOD OF GROWTH!”

Asgore added, “You are creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of costs over benefits. We want to be part of your world, Senator. If you would just let us-”

“Humanity must always come first, King Dreemurr.”

“BUT MONSTERS CAN HELP HUMANITY, IF ONLY YOU STOP HOLDING US AT ARMS LENGTH!”

Dick Corlack stared at them both for a long moment, then sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Even if I wanted to help you,” he admitted, “it would be political suicide in this current climate. My constituents wouldn’t stand for it. At the end of the day, gentlemen, my actions are guided by the will of my state. And humans… just aren’t ready to accept monsters as their comrades yet. This entire meeting was little more than a courtesy. If you really wanted to get something done, you’d be talking to the President, but you’re not dealing with him, you’re dealing with me. And my hands are tied. I’m sorry.”

Asgore clenched his jaw and counted to ten while Papyrus cheerfully declared, “THEN WE WILL CHANGE THE PEOPLE’S MINDS! WE WILL WAGE A PUBLICITY CAMPAIGN ACROSS THE COUNTRY TO GET PEOPLE ON OUR SIDE! RIGHT YOUR HIGHNESS?”

Summoning a smile for Papyrus, Asgore nodded and agreed, “Why yes, I believe that is exactly what we need to do.”

“AND I KNOW JUST WHO CAN HELP US,” Papyrus whispered, vibrating in his seat. Asgore winked.

“Good day, gentlemen,” Corlack drawled, inclining his head at each of them. “I believe you can show yourselves out.”

The door was barely shut behind them when Papyrus yelled, “METTATON WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO! HE WON THE HEARTS OF THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND, HE CAN WIN THE HEARTS OF HUMANITY TOO!”

“Why yes, I do believe we have a new meeting to schedule.”

Papyrus squealed and ran in place while flapping his hands, and was just about to skip off when Asgore grabbed his shoulder, slowing him down to walk at his side through the main hall.

“YES, YOUR MAJESTY?”

“I wanted to ask if everything was all right at home,” Asgore said quietly. “It is not like you to be so late or disorganized. Is Sans alright?”

“HM? SANS? OH, SANS ISN’T WHO I’M WORRIED ABOUT!”

Deciding to take a chance, Asgore asked, “Is it your father?”

“YES ACTUA-” Papyrus froze and his sockets bugged out. “OOPS.”

“Do not worry,” Asgore said morosely, encouraging the skeleton to continue walking with a gentle hand on his back. “I already know that he is alive and on the Surface. I also know that he does not wish to see me, and I respect his wishes.”

“IT WOULD BE MORE ACCURATE TO SAY HE DOESN’T WANT YOU TO SEE HIM,” Papyrus said awkwardly. “HE’S UH…”

It was Asgore’s turn to freeze. “What do you mean, he does not want me to see him?”

“OH, PAPYRUS, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW…”

Grabbing the young man’s shoulders and ignoring the looks he got from the humans milling around, Asgore begged, “Please, Papyrus…”

“HE’S NOT… ALL THERE,” Papyrus said stiltedly. “PHYSICALLY, I MEAN. AND MENTALLY? UH. HE HAS A BIG HOLE IN HIS HEAD, SO THERE’S THAT!”

His eyes large and shining, Asgore immediately whirled around and marched quickly towards the front doors of the building, leaving Papyrus to jog after him.

“Y-YOUR MAJESTY? WHAT ABOUT THE MEETING WITH METTATON AND ORGANIZING THE CAMPAIGN-”

“All of which you are fully capable of handling yourself, because I trust in you and your skill,” Asgore said quickly, pushing open the doors. “Please do not hesitate to call me if you truly need me, but you truly are great, Papyrus. I have full faith in you! Farewell!”

And with that, Asgore hurried down the stairs and practically ran to the parking garage.

–

Finding parking anywhere near the Aster apartment was a nightmare, but Asgore did not care that he had to walk four blocks to get to the building. He was barely able to think at all, his mind doing nothing but repeating their last interaction over and over again.

<Asgore…>

“Yes?”

Gaster’s eyelights searched his friend’s face for a long moment, before he stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft skeleton kiss to the King’s lips, his free hand cradling the plush fur of Asgore’s cheek.

As Asgore stood dumbfounded, Gaster fled into the elevator and shut the doors.

And now Asgore stood before an elevator that read ‘OUT OF ORDER.’

Cursing under his breath that the blighted thing was still broken, Asgore entered the stairwell and took the steps three at a time.

By the time he reached the fourth floor, he’d worked up a sweat and was breathing heavily, but all he could focus on was the skeletons’ apartment door.

Staggering to a stop in front of it, he urgently knocked.

He was met with silence… then, the sound of a cane and shuffling feet.

The lock was undone, the knob turned, the door opened, and there-

All of Asgore’s breath was stolen from his chest at the sight of his oldest and dearest friend, staring at him with equally wide eyes flooding with tears, leaning heavily on his cane and dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants with silly socks. His same old gold-rimmed glasses were taped onto his skull, and the cracks from which he bore his sons still marred his face, now accompanied by far too many additional fissures, the most egregious of all being a massive shard of his skull missing entirely.

Asgore lifted a shaking, hesitant hand, then clutched it to his own chest.

Gaster blinked, then blinked again, shedding a tear down his cheekbone.

“Tell me to leave,” Asgore whispered. “Tell me to leave and I will go.”

Gaster opened his mandible, then shakily closed it. He shook his head.

At once Asgore was on him, crowding him back from the door and shutting it behind him before moving to pin him to the wall, barely remembering to cushion the impact for him before he was cradling his face and kissing the daylights out of him, shuddering with a hitched sob when the cane dropped to the floor and Gaster reached up to clutch at his sides, caressing his arm and the side of his neck. Asgore did not hope for the kiss to be anything but chaste, but Gaster opened his mouth and manifested a spectral tongue in a silent request to deepen it, and who was Asgore to deny this wondrous, impossible man anything?

There was a sudden sound from further in the room immediately preceding a lazy, “hey old man, i got some take ou- ooh shit, bye,” and another sound which announced Sans teleporting away.

The two men still sprang apart, catching their breath and laughing and wiping at their tears, only to lean back in to rest their foreheads against each other, and at the other man’s touch all of Asgore’s troubles and fears and demons washed away.

“I thought I lost you,” he breathed, shaking. “I forgot you. I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry-”

“I AM SORRY,” Gaster wept, and Asgore reeled back at the sound of his voice speaking Common. “I AM… THE ONE, WHO… FAILED YOU…”

“You have never failed me,” Asgore argued, pressing their foreheads together again and cradling the scientist close. “You have dedicated centuries of your life in service to me and not once have you ever failed me.” Gaster’s weeping grew more intense, so Asgore tucked him under his chin, wrapping him up in his cloak as the skeleton weakly clung to him. “Is that why you wished to hide from me? That and your injuries?”

“I D-DID NOT… WANT… YOU TO WORRY… TO BURDEN YOU…”

Asgore closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the man in his arms. “You have always been simultaneously the most brilliant and the most stupid man I have ever met.”

“IT TAKES… STUPID… TO KNOW, STUPID.”

Asgore let out a wet laugh, then, and nuzzled his skull. “Oh, how I missed you,” he whispered. “Even forgotten, I missed you and did not know it. I swear to you, Gaster, had I known- had I just remembered, I would have stopped at nothing to get you back.”

“I KNOW,” Gaster whispered back. “I KNOW.”

“What happened?”

At that, Gaster finally leaned away from him, staring up at him with eyelights shimmering with regret. “THAT… IS A LONG STORY.”

“I have time,” Asgore said softly, giving him one last nuzzle before bending down and picking up the man’s cane, handing it to him before helping support him to the couch.

Chapter Text

Asgore sat in stunned silence for a long while, digesting what he had just heard. Gaster fidgeted in his seat, nursing his aching knuckles, utterly exhausted from speaking and signing for so long.

“So… what we feared… the ending of all things…”

<Was for naught,> Gaster lied, keeping his expression stoic. Their fear wasn’t for nothing. It was real. It happened. And now, Gaster was the last relic of a world that no longer existed. But what he said next was the truth. <Everything I ever did, all I sacrificed, the harm I caused to my children, my colleagues… was for nothing.>

His ears drooping, Asgore leaned in closer and pressed their foreheads together, reaching a large paw up to cup the back of Gaster’s broken skull. “It is not nothing to me,” Asgore said sternly, gently caressing the bone. With a brief nuzzle, he leaned away again to meet Gaster’s eyelights. “Trying, even if the result is failure, is noble. Heroic. You may not have broken the Barrier, and the end of the world may not have come to pass… you may have been erased… but you are here now. Despite everything, it is still you. That is what matters.”

<Am I still me?> Gaster signed, looking away. <Part of me died in the void. I witnessed so much death… I saw you die, over and over, sometimes by your own hand… I felt my sons die… And only I remember it…>

Only him and Chara. Who lived again through young Frisk, alongside Asriel in the form of a flower. Asgore’s children yet lived, and what was he doing keeping this knowledge a secret? It was by the children’s request, yes, but they were children. They needed more than just each other. But what would this knowledge do to Asgore? To Toriel? That their children suffered such unimaginable horror alone with them none the wiser, had committed such unimaginable horror to them and others? Would they even believe him? Would they think him insane? Frisk and Flowey could easily deny it, and Gaster was already lying about how he was the last surviving member of the prime timeline-

“-aster? Gaster!”

Gaster shook himself and blinked at the worried goat-lion at his side, tears slipping down his skull as he faintly rattled.

“Oh, my dear Doctor,” Asgore breathed, reaching up to tenderly wipe away his tears, his own orange and blue eyes large and sad. “I… I know you said that your soul-bond with your sons has been severed, and… I remember when I felt Asriel die, and felt my lifeforce freeze… I felt so cold… And there has been no greater pain that I have felt before or since…”

<What would you do?> Gaster signed suddenly. <What would you do if your children were alive but you couldn’t feel them? If your soul knew them to be dead? If their bodies were not their own, but copies? Replacements?>

Without hesitation, Asgore answered, “I would not care about any of that. If they truly are my children, I will know it, even if my soul does not. I grieve them every day and my life is hollow without them. I would rejoice in the miracle of them returning to me from death every day.”

Gaster let out an exhausted sigh and hugged himself, closing his eyesockets.

“ASGORE…” he rasped. “THERE IS… SOMETHING VERY… VERY… IMPORTANT, I NEED TO TELL YOU…”

At that moment, there came a knock on the front door, followed by a muffled, “hey, are you guys still boning?”

Both men blushed heavily at that, and as Gaster hid his face in his hands, Asgore hooted a mirthless laugh and stood up, striding across the living room with his cloak flowing behind him before answering the door with a mock-stern, “We were not ever having coitus, young man.”

Sans’s expression scrunched up as he casually strolled past the King, his hands in his hoodie pockets. “man, please don’t call it ‘coitus.’ you know, dropping the occasional ‘fuck’ wouldn’t kill you. also hey dad, i went and gave your taco bell to tori instead. we had a nice lunch.”

“THAT IS FINE,” Gaster sighed, leaning back on the couch and hugging himself again, his hands bunching in his (Papyrus’s) hoodie. “I WAS NOT… HUNGRY… IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

“well the takeout was my effort to get you to eat, so,” Sans shrugged.

Asgore looked at Gaster in alarm. “Gaster, have you not eaten today?”

“nope,” Sans answered, taking a bottle of ketchup out of the fridge and guzzling it. “he didn’t eat yesterday either. actually, dad, when was the last time you ate?”

“SPAGHETTI… THE FIRST NIGHT… I CAME HERE.”

Asgore opened his mouth and falsely started a torrent of words before managing, “Sans, what ingredients do you have in the kitchen? I will cook something for him.”

A bead of sweat grew on Sans’s skull as he shuffled his feet, throwing away the empty ketchup bottle. “papyrus stocked us up pretty good on saturday, but uh- he’s my dad, y’know? i can make him somethin’-”

“Please, I insist.”

“last time i checked i was the host and you are the guest, and uh, it’s kinda pathetic if i can’t make somethin’ for my own dad in my own home, right?”

“HOW ABOUT…” Gaster began, picking up his cane and quakingly heaving himself to his feet with a pained grunt, prompting both Asgore and Sans to drift closer with outstretched hands, “WE ALL COOK… TOGETHER?”

“dad, you should be resting in bed, not working yourself to the bone in the kitchen,” Sans drawled with a wink, though worry still laced his tone. Gaster ignored him and started making his way to the kitchen, and at the roll of Sans’s eyelights, Asgore cut Gaster off and gently scooped him up into his arms, smiling in satisfaction at Gaster’s sour glare. Sans snorted. “ha! okay, we can make this work. hey ol’ fluffybutt, can you put him in the room on the left? we’ve let him take over pap’s room.”

“I RESENT THIS,” Gaster muttered, though he had no fight left in him to struggle out of Asgore’s secure hold. His old friend gently deposited him onto the racecar bed with a soft pat to the head, then excused himself to go help Sans cook.

Fifteen minutes later, his King and son returned with a plate of eggs and avocado toast. Asgore helped him sit up while Sans set the plate in his lap with a wink. “bone apple teeth.”

Not wanting their efforts to go to waste, Gaster gave them both a shaky smile and stabbed at the eggs.

Sans watched him pick at his food with a furrowed browbone and drawled, “i have no idea why you ate paps’s spaghetti with such bone-afide enthusiasm on friday and then decided food was lame.”

“I AM SURE… ME BEING SICK ALL DAY SATURDAY… HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT?”

“Sick?” Asgore prompted, an ear swiveling as fear entered his eyes. “What kind of sick?”

Gaster opened his mouth to speak Common, then decided ‘fuck it,’ set down his fork and signed, <My theory is that my body is still adjusting to being real. After not eating for decades and existing in a perpetual state of dying and reconstituting, it’s understandable that food would be a shock to my system.>

“Decades?” Asgore asked, tilting his head.

<I spent longer in the void than just thirteen years,> Gaster signed tiredly. <I… I witnessed an additional decade’s worth of resets, at least. It’s so difficult to believe this all isn’t just a cruel dream…>

Sans sat on the edge of the bed then and rubbed his father’s back. “yeah, well, that’s why paps and i are patient with you old man. so what if you spent this morning convinced paps and i weren’t real? i spent the majority of pap’s life being pretty messed up myself, so, heh… guess he’s used to it,” Sans said with another wink, the dark circles under his sockets looking somehow darker.

Asgore took that opportunity to gingerly perch himself at the foot of the bed, causing a mighty creak from the bedframe as it struggled to accommodate his weight. “You… had an unreality attack this morning? Is that why Papyrus was late to our meeting?”

Coloring lilac with shame, Gaster numbly and mechanically brought food to his mouth and nodded. 

“three skeletons left in the whole world, and two of us are disabled,” Sans huffed with a wan smirk. “sorry your high and mightyness.”

Asgore hummed sadly and reached out to squeeze Gaster’s knee through his sweatpants. “It is plain to see your physical scars, but I had no idea how deep the mental scars ran… Your colleagues seemed fine; shaken and off-balance, but fine… I cannot imagine existing in isolation for decades witnessing things beyond my worst nightmares… Your strength, Gaster, to have not Fallen Down…”

Gaster’s eyelights extinguished, and he pushed his food away, feeling nauseous.

It wasn’t that he didn’t try. It was that he wasn’t allowed to.

“oookay,” Sans drawled, weary, “maybe pack up the heavy talk.”

“Yes, of course, I apologize…” Asgore muttered meekly, his ears drooping. “Though- Gaster… you wanted to tell me something earlier?”

To Gaster, Asgore’s words may as well have come through six feet of water as that morning played behind his sockets.

–

He awoke not to darkness but to sunlight.

He did not know where he was. 

The pain was familiar enough, however. The void was quirky like that, taking his SOUL and shattering it apart while forcing him to remain alive. His awareness came in waves, and looking around, he managed to discern that he was in Papyrus’s room. The boy took to idolizing superheroes and yearning for a car as he grew up, right? There was a table full of little figurines standing in the beams of the dawn. 

The dawn. This must be the Surface. The Player… where was the Player? Where was Chara? How many times must he see this ruin?

Gaster moved to withdraw from the strand of light showing his son’s bedroom so he could search elsewhere for the red SOUL, only to find that he was stuck there. Was he truly that weak?

The door opened, and Papyrus, dressed in a suit with his scarf still wrapped around his neck, cheerfully declared, “GOODBYE, DAD! I AM OFF TO WORK AND HAVE COME TO GIVE YOU A FAREWELL KISS!”

He could see him?

But that wasn’t his son. If it was his son, he would feel a rush of euphoria, joy. Love. But he didn’t feel anything. Only a numbness as cold and hard as his scarred SOUL.

He remembered now. His real son was dead, reduced to dust in the snow, their world erased, their bond permanently severed. And no reset would ever bring his children back to him.

That was when the voices started. Muffled and far away cutting whispers. The phantoms of dead monsters.

Not-Papyrus paused halfway across the room and furrowed his browbone. “DAD? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

[YOU ARE NOT REAL,] Gaster groaned, dragging himself out of the bed. Truly this was one of the void’s more realistic dreams. Or nightmares, as it were.

“OF COURSE I AM REAL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE REALEST THING IN THE WORLD!” Papyrus brightly countered, stepping closer. “BUT YOU ARE UNDER STRICT ORDERS FOR BED REST, MISTER! GET BACK IN THERE!”

[THIS IS JUST A DREAM,] Gaster rasped as he cringed away from Papyrus’s touch. [A CRUEL DREAM… WAKE UP. I TIRE OF THIS. STOP IT.]

“DAD…? COME ON, THIS ISN’T A DREAM, YOU’RE HOME, YOU’RE SAFE! WITH ME! AND SANS! YOUR SONS!”

[YOU ARE NOT MY SON,] Gaster hissed, staggering to the wall and willing himself to phase through it back into the familiar darkness of the in-between. [THIS IS NOT REAL, YOU ARE NOT REAL. LET ME OUT!]

Papyrus took first one, then two steps back, rattling faintly, before he ran back out the door.

A few minutes later, the specter of Papyrus returned with an approximation of Sans at his side. Gaster, meanwhile, was scratching at the walls, on the verge of summoning a blaster. “dad, c’mon, it is way too early for this.”

Ignoring him, Gaster lifted a hand and summoned a blaster, its great antlers scratching the ceiling-

It was suddenly forcefully dispelled. 

Turning to look, Gaster saw both his sons with their hands outstretched, their sockets wide and sweat beading at their temples. 

They… they dispelled his magic… no one, nothing could do that, unless… 

He stared at his sons — his living sons — and still felt… nothing.

The problem wasn’t with his children. It was with him. 

Breaking down into tears, Gaster sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands, only vaguely feeling his children flock to his sides and glow their eyes at him in an attempt to get him to calm down, but his SOUL remained numb and so, so cold.

So cold…

–

“dad,” Sans begged, glowing his eye at him and squeezing his wrist. “come on, snap out of it…”

Gaster blinked a few tears from his sockets and pulled Sans against his side, bundling the young man up in his arms and resting his skull on top of his, his own eyelights flaring a brilliant purple.

Asgore knelt at the end of the bed, holding his ankle and staring at him with wide, fearful eyes and pinned back ears.

[I AM SORRY,] Gaster rasped, pressing a skeleton kiss to the top of his son’s head before turning to look at the man he loved. “I AM SO SORRY.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Asgore said softly, gently curling his hand around Gaster’s foot. “We are all here for you. And again, I apologize if I said anything that upset you. I… I was never very good at this…”

It was Asgore’s turn to get lost in memories, apparently, judging by how his eyes became distant and glassy. Gaster wiggled his foot to bring him back and croaked, “NOT YOUR FAULT.”

Asgore’s jaw tightened at that. It was obvious he didn’t believe that, but he said nothing against it. 

[SANS, MY CHILD, CAN WE HAVE SOME PRIVACY?] Gaster whispered, reluctantly releasing him from the hug, his eyelights flickering back to normal.

[you not gonna eat anymore, huh?] Sans replied in Wingdings, stopping his own glow.

[I AM AFRAID NOT.]

[i’ll try and get it down, no worries,] he said with a wink, picking up the plate and shuffling out of the room with a brief pat to Asgore’s shoulder pauldron before closing the door behind him.

Gaster beckoned Asgore closer, and so Asgore carefully rose to his feet and moved to the head of the bed, sitting down at his side and taking one of his hands in his to hold in his lap, gently caressing a thumb over his knuckles. “I am here for whatever you need,” Asgore said softly.

Gaster stared into his eyes.

“WHAT I WANTED… TO TELL YOU, EARLIER…”

Asgore straightened up and pricked his ears, his brow furrowing.

It was not his place to divulge Chara and Asriel’s identities. Not after subjecting Chara to his memories and dragging the child down into the same hell of knowledge. But he could speak another truth.

“...I LOVE YOU,” Gaster breathed. “I DID NOT… SURVIVE ALL OF THAT… TO HIDE, OR DENY IT… ANYMORE…”

And with that, he leaned in and kissed him, shaking faintly, and the shaking only subsided when Asgore kissed him back, lifting his free hand to cradle his skull. 

Everything was such a godforsaken mess… he was such a mess… and so much had changed… but this, at least, was a constant. In a thousand timelines, in a million worlds, Gaster would love Asgore Dreemurr.

Finally breaking the kiss, Asgore pressed their foreheads together and tearily replied, “I love you too. I love you so much, Dings… my oldest friend… And it does not matter how much pain you bear, or how much you struggle; how ugly your attacks are, or if you forget I am real. I will love you anyway, forever and always, for as long as you will have me.”

Leaning back with a wan smile, Gaster signed, <I will always have you.>

Asgore seemed to vibrate with sheer unbridled joy, then, and Gaster giggled before leaning against the man’s chest, feeling a strong arm wrap around him and tug him close as Asgore began to press a lazy pattern of soft kisses to his broken skull.

Then…

“DID YOU… LEAVE MY SON… ALONE IN HIS WORK…?”

Asgore immediately tensed and let out a nervous chuckle. “I… well…”

Gaster slapped the goat-lion on the rump and gestured his head at the door, signing, <Don’t leave him alone again, understand?>

“He is truly very capable!” Asgore argued even as he stood up and hurried towards the door. Opening it, he paused in the doorway before turning back and asking, “Can I call you tonight?”

Gaster made an exhausted noise and signed, <I think I’m done talking for the day.>

“Then can I visit you tomorrow?”

The corners of Gaster’s sockets crinkled. He nodded.

Asgore smiled, then, and rushed off with a swirl of his cloak.

Sure enough, Sans wandered back in with a shit-eating grin a few seconds later, and after the sound of the front door opening and closing, he drawled, “so are you two like official now, or…?”

Gaster just tiredly chuckled and leaned back on the bed.

Sans sobered after that and stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets. “did you tell him about chara? i don’t think you did, judging by how happy he looked…”

Gaster frowned at that and shook his head, signing, <I wanted to… I almost did, but… he’d just think I’m cruel and crazy, and Chara especially would never forgive me. I owe so much to that child… but I also owe so much to him… I’m their Godfather… Am I doing the right thing…?>

Sans shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “kids aren’t stupid, y’know? i think they have their reasons for wanting to keep this a secret. we can encourage ‘em to come clean, but i wouldn’t do any more than that. and believe me, i get it. you think it’s easy on me lying to tori’s face that her dead kid is actually alive and sharing a body with her newest kid? but frisk trusts me to look out for ‘em, and you’re the one who went all vulcan mind meld on chara, so… what’s a guy to do?”

Gaster’s sockets drooped as he reached up to rub his temple. <I should probably… apologize…>

“y’think?” Sans said with a wink. “i’ll bring the kid over sometime soon so you can. don’t sweat it. and in the meantime, get some rest, ok?”

<OK,> Gaster signed, finally going limp with a weary sigh. Sans fondly shook his head and closed the door.

Chapter Text

If any monster would’ve made it big on the Surface, it was Mettaton. And ‘make it’ he did.

After those hard initial few months in the processing camps, monsters were finally being moved into homes so they could cobble together new lives on the Surface, scraping together whatever amounts of dignity they could. Mettaton got an apartment with his cousins Napstablook, Mad Mew Mew, and… what was their name again…?

Anyway, he initially started off doing, ironically, ‘underground’ concerts in monsters’ basements or abandoned buildings. With Blooky and Shyren at his side, his performances were truly glamorous, earning the prestige of receiving noise complaints and being shut down by the cops. Truly he was among the greatest stars already!

He and his group caught a lucky break, however, when a group of human teenagers snuck into a concert after bribing their bouncer, Burgerpants. (Burgerpants was under strict instruction to allow any and all humans in that he could, but he took the path of most personal profit. Mettaton respected that, it showed initiative.) In any case, Mettaton was dancing under the flashing lights like his life depended on it, vogueing and flipping his hair while Shyren sang along with the instrumental break, and the (human!!) teenagers immediately took out their phones and started recording with big, sparkly eyes and wide smiles.

He got a million views overnight.

Ever since then, Mettaton ‘blew up’ with humanity and started cultivating an image for himself and his band. He started getting invited to a multitude of human venues, particularly gay clubs and community centers, where Death by Glamour was given a cut of the ticket sales. From there, he was invited onto news stations and talk shows, as well as needing an entire second cell phone just to handle all the calls from prospective agents and producers. Many of them were, mm… less than savory deals (Mettaton knew how cutthroat Show Business was, thank you very much, and he read Elton Johnson’s entire autobiography), but eventually they earned enough money through concert sales and merchandise to start their own communications company.

Now, with their new single sitting at #1 of the Top 40s billboard for the third week in a row, Mettaton’s limo pulled up in front of the human capitol building, summoned by the Ambassador of All Monsters himself.

Burgerpants sweatily hopped out of the driver’s seat and ran to open up the rear door, grabbing the rolled up red carpet tucked inside the door and clumsily throwing it out across the ground. 

First one sleek black gorgeous leg emerged, then another, before Mettaton bloomed from the rear door with a flick of his luscious hair, adjusting his bejeweled sunglasses as his feather boa fluttered in the wind.

“Burgerpants, make the carpet straighter next time, darling,” Mettaton drawled with a pat to the top of the cat monster’s head.

“Not like you’re straight,” Burgerpants muttered.

“What was that?”

“N-Nothing!”

Mad Mew Mew, his bodyguard, bounced up to his side then to escort him up the stairs and into the domed marble building, the both of them sashaying with mechanical whirs of their swaying robotic hips. Every human in a hundred foot radius was staring at them, surely struck by their beauty.

Maddie opened the door for him and Mettaton pecked her cheek with a smile before flouncing in, taking off the sunglasses so the cameras of his eyes could adjust to the dim light.  “Now, where might you suppose the Ambassador’s office is, Maddie?”

“Do I look like I’m at all familiar with this den of scum and villainy? Despicable. Despicable! DESPICABLE!”

Some human politicians wrinkled their noses at Maddie, then, as they walked by, so Mettaton winked at them with a dazzlingly cutting smile before walking towards a circular desk in the middle of the massive front area.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Mettaton greeted, leaning on the desk in front of a gray-haired human woman with chorded glasses who looked at him in alarm, literally clutching her pearl necklace. “Mettaton here, viral TubeU star, and I’m here for an appointment with the Monster Ambassador! You wouldn’t happen to know where his office is, would you, darling?”

The woman made some kind of “eugh” noise and fixed her glasses, then turned to her computer with a heavy sigh, her hands clacking across the keyboard. “He’s in office 4F, downstairs.”

“Thank you,” Mettaton replied with a knock to her desk, making the woman flinch again, and Maddie started power-walking towards the elevators, barking ‘Make way, make way!’ 

The humans inside the elevators, however, mashed the ‘close doors’ button, and even though Maddie broke into a sprint towards them, the doors shut before she could shove an arm through them.

“Why I oughta…” Maddie growled, devolving into a slew of curses that made her sound like some old witch hexing her enemies, which she may actually have been doing.

“There, there, Maddie,” Mettaton soothed, rubbing her shoulders. “We can always take the stairs, hm? We can’t neglect these legs, after all!”

Maddie leveled him with a dry, flat glare. “Cousin, our legs are literally made out of metal and wires, no amount of exercise-”

“Oh have some imagination,” Mettaton laughed, shoving off of her shoulder to go open the door to the stairwell.

“Wait, WAIT, WAIT!” Maddie yelped, barreling in front of him and signaling him to pause. “Assassins…”

Both monsters nodded at each other stoically, and with a gesture, Mettaton allowed Maddie to slowly open the door and check the stairwell.

“Clear.”

And with that, the two of them headed downstairs, emerging into…

…a musty, windowless, dreary, even more dimly-lit area of the building with narrow hallways and the loud chugging sound of a boiler.

Mettaton blinked, then blinked again.

“Maddie, darling. I think that lovely woman lied to us.”

“Well, there’s a 4F right here under the stairwell,” Maddie huffed, pointing. “Worth a try, at least.”

“This hellhole? For the second-highest ranked member of our entire species? Please, that’s a broom closet.”

4F’s door flew open, then, revealing-

“METTATON! YOU CAME!”

Mettaton clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Oh, I remember you! Papyrus, right? We met making sure the King didn’t kill F-?”

“-FFFFFFAAAAA!! YES! ABSOLUTELY NO MURDERS OCCURED BY MONSTER HANDS AT ANY POINT!” Papyrus brayed down the hallway before grabbing Mettaton by the wrist, making the star blush. “PLEASE, PLEASE, COME IN!”

“HANDS OFF, BUCKO!” Maddie barked, catgirl tail swishing threateningly. 

“Please, Maddie, it’s fine,” Mettaton insisted, allowing Papyrus to pull him into his office. “You just guard out here, alright?”

“Kill anyone who comes close, got it.”

Papyrus peeked over Mettaton’s shoulder and bleated, “NO KILLING, PLEASE!” before shutting the door. “PHEW!”

Now inside the cramped yet exceedingly clean and well-organized office — and, oh, was that an air freshener filled with his MTT brand perfume? — Mettaton took a moment to look Papyrus up and down and properly take him in. He was a tall skeleton; not as tall as Mettaton’s EX body, but well-built with a handsomely chiseled skull, his bones somehow filling out the suit he wore in a V-shape with broad shoulders and a skinny little waist that looked delicious.

Mettaton found himself blushing harder, especially when Papyrus pulled out a chair with a beaming smile and shiny sockets, yelling, “PLEASE, HAVE A SEAT! MAY I TAKE YOUR BOA?”

“Of course, honey, how kind of you,” Mettaton replied in his own booming voice, slinking the boa off from around his neck before handing it to the skeleton, who blushed a cute shade of orange before hanging the boa up on a coat rack while Mettaton sat down. 

Squeezing through the tiny space between the desk and the wall, Papyrus sat down in his own chair with a sigh and clasped his hands together, still grinning with those shiny sockets, his feet tippy-tapping on the floor. “FIRST I WOULD LIKE TO START OFF BY SAYING THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM A HUGE FAN, METTATON! ALL THE WAY BACK IN THE UNDERGROUND, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY FAVORITE STAR! NOT COUNTING THE LITERAL ONES, OF COURSE- B-BUT EVEN WITH THEM YOU’RE REALLY UP THERE!”

“Says the man working so hard to make sure us monsters all have a fair shot,” Mettaton mused, walking his fingers across the desk, and Papyrus blushed harder.

“I-I… UH, ABOUT THAT! YES! MONSTER RIGHTS! WE HAVE AN IMAGE ISSUE! MANY HUMANS STILL DON’T KNOW THAT WE’RE NICE AND JUST WANT TO HELP! AND WELL, THERE’S AN ELECTION COMING UP, AND- WELL, MONSTERS AREN’T ALLOWED TO VOTE OR RUN FOR OFFICE, AND EVEN OUR KING CAN’T VOTE IN THE LEGISLATURE, BUT IF WE CAN WIN HUMANS ONTO OUR SIDE…”

Mettaton hummed and rearranged his legs, crossing them coquettishly as he withdrew his hand to brush his fingers through his hair with a small flick of his head. “Most monsters were rooting for the destruction of humanity less than a year ago…”

Papyrus groaned and faceplanted directly into his own desk. “DON’T REMIND ME… OR ANYONE, ACTUALLY. EVER.”

“So we need to rebrand ourselves as cute and cuddly, hmm?”

Whipping upright again, Papyrus flapped his hands and exclaimed, “YES! YOU’RE A GENIUS, METTATON!”

“I do try,” Mettaton chuckled with another flip of his hair. “So, do you have anything in particular in mind? I’m already doing my part to make monsters more palatable.”

“WELL, THE KING AND I WERE HOPING THAT MAYBE WE COULD… WORK WITH YOU TO… ORGANIZE A CAMPAIGN TO GET OUT THE VOTE FOR HUMANS SYMPATHETIC TO MONSTERS. A CHARITY DRIVE ON TV, PERHAPS, TO RAISE AWARENESS AND FUNDS!”

“I like the way you think, darling! I can see it now: my name, up in lights in a studio, as I and the others marathon songs for the masses! I can write an entirely new album retelling the story of monster history with a bit more zest and glamor, and-” Mettaton gasped and clapped again. “Oh, I have a wonderful idea.”

Papyrus eagerly leaned forward, nodding and wiggling in his seat. “YES?”

“Frisk,” Mettaton declared proudly. “They are the reason we’re free in the first place, are they not? And if we want the theme of this charity drive to be unity between humans and monsters, I can’t think of a better avatar than the human who won all of our hearts! Surely they can win the hearts of humanity, too, the little angel!”

Papyrus’s smile fell and sweat beaded at his temple as he tugged at the tattered red scarf around his neck. “ER… WELL… FRISK IS GOING THROUGH A BIT OF A TOUGH TIME LATELY, AND…”

“Oh, surely it’s nothing their Uncle Mettaton can’t fix!”

“WHO MADE YOU THEIR UNCLE?”

“Why, me, of course!”

“AH! I SEE! YES, THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE!”

“Where do they go to school? Where do they live? I can pick them up in my limo and get them McNaldo’s!”

“ER… I AM PRETTY SURE LADY TORIEL PICKS THEM UP… AND SHE IS VERY PROTECTIVE.”

Mettaton pulled out his cell phone then and opened his call app. “What’s her number then? I’ll arrange it with her.”

“I-I AM A BIT PROTECTIVE OF FRISK, TOO…”

Mettaton blinked and leaned back in his chair, sobering a bit. “Is the poor thing really struggling that much? Are they alright?”

“WELL…” Papyrus hedged, glancing askance. “THEY’RE KIND OF HAVING A… IDENTITY CRISIS?”

Something glinted in Mettaton’s eye, then. “Oh, honey… this child needs me stat! I am intimately familiar with struggles of identity, and the best place to find oneself is on the stage!”

Papyrus thought about this for a long moment before humming. “THAT MAKES SENSE ACTUALLY… AND IF YOU CAN HELP FRISK, THEN EVERYBODY WINS!”

“Now you’re getting it!”

“ALRIGHT!” Papyrus declared, snatching a piece of scrap paper and scribbling down a series of information. “HERE IS TORIEL’S NUMBER, FRISK’S SCHOOL, AND THEIR HOME ADDRESS!”

“Outstanding! Now… There is one other person I think could really make our charity drive absolutely beautiful…”

“THE KING?”

Mettaton reached out and booped Papyrus on the nasal bridge. “You.”

“WOWIE!!!! M-ME??”

“A cutie like you in a cute little outfit? Absolutely! You can be the announcer and run games, like raffles for MTT merchandise or giant jenga with Frisk! And oh, you must come with me to go shopping for your appearance that night, I insist!”

“YOU THINK I’M CUTE?” Papyrus squeaked, his hands flapping faster.

“Just calling it as I see it, baby,” Mettaton said with a wink.

Papyrus’s entire skull flushed rosy then as his hands plapped over his cheeks, and he stuttered, “WELL Y-YOU ARE- VE- VERY- AHEM- sexy.”

Mettaton’s brow raised as he flushed red, his magic coloring the metal of his face before he smiled and pulled out a business card and pen from his chest compartment and flipped it over, jotting down his personal number before sliding it to Papyrus. “Call me~” he drawled with a wink, taking the paper with Lady Toriel’s number on it and standing, holding out his hand.

Gulping — and how could he gulp? — Papyrus stood up and took Mettaton’s hand with a beaming smile and a firm grip, wildly shaking it up and down. “I REALLY LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU, METTATON! TOGETHER WE SHALL TRULY MAKE MONSTERS POPULAR, PRESTIGIOUS, PALATABLE, AND MOST OF ALL: LOVABLE!”

“Don’t you know it, darling.”

And with that, Papyrus squeezed back through the narrow gap between the side of his desk and the wall and fetched Mettaton’s boa, handing it back to him and getting the door for him, just in time for the King to come hurrying around the corner. 

“Ah!” exclaimed Asgore. “Mettaton! How very nice to see you again. It appears I am too late for our meeting, though I trust Papyrus treated you well?”

“He was an absolute gentleman,” Mettaton replied with a shy grin at Papyrus, before curtseying at the King, who smiled and bowed in return. Maddie did the same, and the King bowed to her as well. “Farewell, you both! I’ll get back to you when I get a studio who will run us!”

“SOUNDS GREAT, METTATON! BYE BYE!!” Papyrus called after them, waving and bouncing on the balls of his feet as the two robotic monsters slipped into the stairwell. 

While walking up the stairs, Maddie side-eyed him and asked, “Do you… have a crush on Papyrus? You know, he and Undyne trained on me back in the day and-”

“None of your business,” Mettaton snipped, climbing faster with a flick of his boa… before slowing down. “...How was he, though?”

Maddie smirked. “Like a fucking hurricane.”

Mettaton pursed and then bit his lip, taking the steps two at a time to hide his blush from Maddie.

Chapter Text

Frisk always hated school.

Sure, they weren’t at their old school anymore, the one out near their bio mom’s trailer park, but this new one wasn’t much better. Rather than getting bullied for being quiet and weird and genderless, now they were getting bullied for being quiet, weird, genderless, and ‘a monster.’

In the Underground, they could barely do anything other than watch their body navigate without them. Initially, they thought being controlled by the Player was a relief, a second chance. That the red SOUL was their guardian angel, even if it failed to protect them sometimes, and Frisk had to feel their body torn apart or impaled or burned alive. But the red SOUL would always LOAD and bring them back like nothing ever happened, running again into the fray of monsters trying to kill them to try again while tears of residual pain and terror rolled down Frisk’s cheeks. It would prompt them to talk, to hug, to flirt, and so they did so, and the monsters calmed down and stopped wanting to fight, growing friendly as soon as they realized Frisk wouldn’t hurt them. Frisk loved the monsters despite how much they hurt them. After all, monsters were bullied, too.

When they first reached the Surface and monsters were put into processing camps, Frisk was taken away from Toriel by the police, but the Player prompted them to stay silent when asked questions like ‘what is your name?’ ‘where are you from?’ ‘where are your real parents?’ The Player guided them to make the police think they would only respond to Toriel, and so Frisk was returned to her after only three days, where the police took their fingerprints and blood to try and find a match. The Player made them secretly contaminate the samples before leaving, and after a few months, Toriel was told that she could keep Frisk ‘for the welfare of the child.’ And then, when school started in August, the Player tried to get them into Monster School, but apparently that was illegal, so Toriel had to enroll them in Human School instead. Still, when the bullies started swarming, the Player had them handle them like monsters, dodging their fists and kicks only to flirt with them. It helped them with most of the kids, and for the really nasty ones, Frisk was able to outlast them until they got too bored or tired or a teacher saw.

But then the Player made them run away in the middle of the night with Sans and Papyrus to find Gaster, and Gaster gave Chara his memories, and when Chara merged with Frisk, they got all of his memories, too.

They watched in numb horror as their body cut down every last monster in the Underground, their hair matted with dust, all because the Player could, because it was possible. And Chara… they twisted Chara into something sick and hurting, and then tried to keep the world they ruined so they could reset and keep ‘playing.’ Chara killed them and destroyed their original universe, and when the Player came back (because they always came back), Chara made them sell the red SOUL to them in exchange for them creating a copy of the world to play in. Only Chara was really, really angry, so they ruined the Player’s ‘game’ and destroyed their happy ending.

And then the Player destroyed Chara back, erasing them from existence and casting them into the same forgotten void that Gaster was trapped in, where they died in his arms. 

Everything, everyone, was just a copy in the Player’s pretend world, and just because Chara destroyed the SOUL and hid the world didn’t mean the Player wouldn’t be able to find them again, because the Player could do anything.

Frisk didn’t really know what to do with all this knowledge. They cried sometimes, and other times they couldn’t bring themself to feel or do anything at all.

“Frisk.”

Frisk looked up at Mrs. Thatcher and shrank in their seat, tucking their hands between their legs.

“Are you listening?” the woman snipped, and she was really old with wrinkled pale skin and a brunette perm. Some of the other children smirked over their shoulders at them where they sat in the back and snickered. “Speak up.”

Frisk opened their mouth and tried to say something, anything, but their voice caught in their throat and all that came out was a whimper, which made the snickering kids laugh harder.

Wrinkling her nose, Mrs. Thatcher ordered, “Frisk, go flip your card.”

When Frisk started to cry, Flowey bellowed “HEY!” from where he sat on their desk and twisted his face into something scary. “How about you SHUT UP and LEAVE THEM ALONE?”

Sneering, Mrs. Thatcher sharply scolded, “Frisk, you were explicitly told that your magic flower could stay with you so long as it did not disrupt class, and this is more than a disruption! Flip your card twice, and I will confiscate this thing to the principal’s office. You can pick it up again at the end of the school day, but do not bring it to school again.”

“I’m not an ‘it,’ I’m a guy,” Flowey hissed, “And I was behaving until you decided to punish Frisk for not being able to talk! What kind of sicko does that?!”

“I was initially punishing her for not paying attention,” Mrs. Thatcher growled, and Frisk flinched at the pronoun. “Just because-”

“They go by ‘THEY/THEM,’ IDIOT!”

“That is enough!” Mrs. Thatcher barked, storming to Frisk’s desk and grabbing Flowey’s flower pot, only for Flowey to bite her hard enough to draw blood. With a shriek, she dropped the pot to the ground, where it shattered, enabling Flowey to take root in the tile and stick his tongue out to blow a raspberry.

“You’ll never take me alive, pig!” Flowey yelled, then ducked underground as the entire class burst into laughter.

“That is IT!” Mrs. Thatcher huffed, whirling on Frisk, her hair frazzled as she clutched her bleeding hand to her chest. “Go flip your card to red and report to the principal’s office! I need to call security and let them know there’s a monster on the loose.”

Frisk shakily stood up and slinked their way around their laughing classmates to where all the students’ names were hung up on the wall, each matched to a set of green, yellow, and red cards. Frisk quickly flipped theirs to red and then rushed out of the room.

I love him, Chara mused as Frisk trotted down the hall, sniffling. 

He just ruined my entire life!

Oh don’t be such a baby. He stood up for you against that old hag.

And now I’m gonna get expelled or worse! Also, that’s mean!

She was mean first! And they’re not going to expel you.

How do you know?

I’m pretty sure she violated some kind of disability act thing. Also, you’re entitled to a service animal.

Flowey isn’t an animal though.

They sure treat him like one. Or worse. Hey, do you want me to front at the principal’s office?

So you can actually get me expelled?

No, because you’re really pathetic right now.

Frisk stopped in front of the office door, trembling and fidgeting with their sweater sleeves.

Okay.

Closing their eyes, they focused on releasing control of their shared body to Chara, who opened their eyes and smiled, flexing their hands and rolling their neck. “Don’t worry Frisk, I got this,” they whispered, reaching up and turning the knob to enter the office.

The secretary perked up and peered over her desk at them, smiling pleasantly. “Hello, little one. Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Thatcher sent me to see the principal.”

“Oh? This is your first time seeing him, correct?”

Chara batted their eyes up at the woman and smiled sweetly, their hands clasped behind their back. “Mhmm.”

“Let me go see if he’s available,” the secretary lady said, and now that she was standing up they could get a better look at her: a middle-aged woman with graying dreadlocks and dark skin in a pretty blue dress. Knocking on the door at the back of the office, she opened it and poked her head in. “Mr. Martinez? You have a student here to see you.”

“Come in!” came the voice of the principal, and Chara smiled and nodded at the secretary lady in thanks before walking inside the principal’s office proper. It wasn’t the biggest office, but it did have a window to the outside to let in natural sunlight, with bookshelves full of books and plaques on the wall. Mr. Martinez himself was a short man with big brown eyes and brown skin, who liked to wear tweed suits and big round glasses. “Hello! I’m Principal Martinez. What’s your name?”

“Frisk,” Chara said confidently, holding out a hand. “A pleasure.”

“Oh! How formal,” Mr. Martinez chuckled, taking their hand and shaking it across his desk. “Please, have a seat, Frisk. Now, what is your understanding as to why you’re here?”

Chara primly situated themself in the chair in front of Mr. Martinez’s desk while the secretary shut the door with a little wave. “I wasn’t feeling well in class, so Mrs. Thatcher called on me to speak. I struggle speaking sometimes, so she mistook it for disrespect and asked me to flip my card.”

Mr. Martinez listened thoughtfully and nodded with a hum. “That would only put you on yellow, correct? So what put you on red?”

Chara took a moment to carefully consider their words. “Obviously you know I am the human who freed all the monsters,” they stated bluntly. “As such, I am entitled to bringing my best friend to class.”

“Well… as you know, there is a strict policy against monsters in human schools,” Mr. Martinez said slowly.

“Oh, but he is not a monster,” Chara clarified with a pleasant smile. “He doesn’t have a soul.”

Mr. Martinez’s brow furrowed, and he slowly leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands. “So… you brought- a sentient flower…”

“He is perfectly harmless and helps me remain calm and focused in class. Mrs. Thatcher discriminated against me by sending him away and sending me to your office for being ‘disruptive.’ As such, I hope you know that my mother will be suing this institution into the ground… unless Mrs. Thatcher faces proper consequences.”

It was at that moment a radio crackled on the shelf behind Mr. Martinez’s desk, where the voice of the school’s security officer came through exhaustedly saying, “Be advised, we have a uh… student pet loose in the school who attacked a teacher. It seems to be a sentient flower. Currently en route to the playground. Over.”

Mr. Martinez raised a single eyebrow. “‘Perfectly harmless,’ was it?”

Chara sniffed. “She reached out to hit him. It was self defense.”

Mr. Martinez sighed and dragged a hand down his face before rolling closer to his desk. “Frisk… I hope you know that we do not take threats to the school lightly. We also take our staff’s safety very seriously. If you knowingly brought, erm… dangerous plantlife to school…”

“I was not threatening anything. You would know if I was.”

That earned a dubious glance from Principal Martinez. “Claiming your monster mother would sue us?”

“Why did you say ‘monster mother’ like that?” Chara snapped.

“Frisk, mind your tone.”

“You mind your tone.”

Chara, I think you’re making it worse…

Shut up.

Mr. Martinez’s dubious look turned into a glare. “Frisk, I am afraid I have no choice but to mark you down for in-school suspension for two weeks.”

“What?!” Chara barked, jumping out of their seat. “But that’s not fair! Frisk didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Are you not Frisk?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong! Fuck!”

“Now see here,” Mr. Martinez said sternly, standing up from his own chair, “I will not tolerate such language in this school. I do not know what nonsense is allowed in your home, but here at Sunnyside Elementary, we teach human children human manners.”

“You hate monsters, don’t you? You’re just like all the others!”

“This conversation is over. Now, report to Miss Aneleese right outside and she will escort you to detention while I call your ‘mother.’”

In a blur of movement, Chara snatched a letter opener off of Mr. Martinez’s desk and brandished it at him, laughing.

Chara… please, let me-

No.

“Frisk,” Mr. Martinez said softly. “Put that down, and maybe, just maybe, I will let this rest with a month of expulsion.”

Chara laughed harder. “I am not afraid of you! You think that is a punishment?”

Chara please stop! Frisk cried, their voice breaking with tears.

Chara hesitated, their eyes misting against their will as their laughter died down.

“Put the letter opener down… and I will walk you to the counselor personally, okay?”

Frisk began to fight Chara for control at the same time Mr. Martinez stepped around the desk, hand outstretched.

.

.

.

–

“Oh my God!”

“Help! Monster!”

“It killed a child!”

“Kill it, kill it dead!”

This is it, Azzy. This is everything we sacrificed for, and they’re all here, ripe for the reaping. 

Chara bared their shared fangs and laughed, summoning flames into their palms as lightning coursed through their towering frame.

Chara, no! Asriel cried. I don’t like this idea anymore! Let’s just go back!

That was when the first bullet struck them, tearing through their side for massive amounts of damage.

And then the pain hit.

For Asriel, it was the worst pain he ever felt in his life. But Chara… Chara just saw red.

YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT!

Chara opened their jaw full of sharp teeth and roared, winding back their arm to hurl a fireball into the center of the crowd-

-only for their arm to freeze.

Chara, no! Asriel screamed tearfully. Leave them alone!

What are you, an IDIOT? Chara snarled as two more bullets and three arrows tore into their body. It’s kill or be killed! This can’t have been for nothing!

This is just a big misunderstanding! They think I killed you! If we hurt them back, we’ll just prove them right!

With a strangled noise, Chara wrestled with Asriel with everything they had, wanting to tear, destroy, rip the humans limb from limb, raze them with flame and explode them with lightning, to inflict on them all the pain and more they ever inflicted on them. They were driven not by determination, but hatred.

Asriel, however, was determined.

What are you doing?! Chara screamed as Asriel bent down and picked their body back up from the bed of golden flowers, at the same time the first wave of humans ran up to them with baseball bats and machetes. What are you doing?! Stop! Stop it! You’re going to get us killed! 

But Asriel just smiled, held Chara’s body close, and turned away from the village, walking back towards the mountain, staggering and limping as their body was ravaged by bullet, arrow, bat and blade.

STOP IT! STOP IT! YOU IDIOT! YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING! STOP! KILL THEM! WE NEED TO KILL THEM! PLEASE! 

ASRIEL!

.

.

.

–

With a scream, Chara lunged forward and slashed with the knife-

-the letter opener cut through the principal’s hand down to the bone. 

With a howl of pain, Mr. Martinez leapt backwards, clutching his bloodied hand and looking at Chara in fear. 

The door whipped open behind them, revealing Miss Analeese the secretary staring at the scene in horror. 

Chara looked down at their hands, stained in blood that ran down the blade. But their skin was bronze, not white. No. Not theirs.

Frisk’s.

Dropping the letter opener, Chara faded to the background, leaving Frisk to burst into tears and back against the wall, clawing at their hair and curling in on themself.

I’m sorry, Chara whispered.

Frisk did not respond, remaining inconsolable as Miss Analeese gently took them by the shoulders and steered them away.

Chapter Text

“So how are things at home?”

Frisk’s eyes remained unfocused as they rocked back and forth, wringing their sweater sleeve around and around their fingers.

They couldn’t LOAD. 

The school counselor frowned and wrote something down. She was a young woman with pale skin and blonde hair in a bob named Miss Forrest. 

“What’s your relationship like with your mother?”

Frisk just continued to rock, breathing shallowly.

Miss Forrest sighed and stood up from behind her desk and rounded it, grabbing a tissue box and a stuffed bear before kneeling down in front of Frisk and offering both. “This is a safe space,” she promised. “You can tell me anything.”

Frisk turned their head away and wrung their sleeve.

Grimacing, Miss Forrest set the tissues and the bear on the table beside Frisk’s chair before looking at them with an expression of regret. “Do you understand what’s happening?”

Frisk let out a long, broken noise, but otherwise said nothing.

“Miss Analeese had to call the police,” Miss Forrest said slowly. “You attacked the principal.”

Their face crumpling, their rocking grew more intense as they reached up and started pulling their hair with a whimper.

“You’re not in trouble!” Miss Forrest said quickly, holding up her hands as her brow pinched upwards. “Frisk, I don’t think you are a bad child. I think this is a cry for help. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Frisk froze and panted, trying to make sense of what they were hearing.

Miss Forrest waited a long moment, but Frisk stayed silent. 

“Frisk…” she tried again. “Does your mother hurt you?”

Frisk’s eyes finally darted up to Miss Forrest’s before darting back down.

Her shadow falling over them as she blocked their exit to the rest of the Underground, fire filling her hands as she ordered them to go back to their room, as Chara whispered that she knew what’s best for them, but they weren’t allowed to go back, they couldn’t, and so they stood against her, fire licking across their skin and it hurt-

“How does she hurt you?”

Frisk grunted and looked up in alarm. Drawing their hands in close to their chest, they shook their head.

So many nights of soft embraces and softer hands, of warm meals cooked for them of which they were allowed to eat as much as they wanted. Her voice always gentle, never harsh, never cruel. Love and warmth filling her eyes as she told them she loves them just the way they are. Sticky notes with messages of how proud she was of them packed into their sack lunch. The watchful eyes of their own personal guardian on them when they went out to play in the yard. Going into their room and finding a new toy added to the pile, just for them.

They never got any of that from their bio mom.

Growing ever more concerned, Miss Forrest asked, “Then why did you react like that, honey? …Does someone else hurt you?”

Frisk worked their jaw for a long moment, then looked down again as they hugged themself. They remembered the feeling of Papyrus’s bones bruising their ribs, of Undyne’s spears impaling them through their back, of Mettaton’s lightning stopping their heart, of Asgore’s trident slashing open their stomach. Of Flowey ripping their body in half. Of Sans’s blasters melting the flesh off their bones.

“Why did you hurt Principal Martinez?”

Frisk shrugged, tears brimming in their eyes. They didn’t want to answer all these questions. They didn’t want to be here. They wished Chara would talk to them again.

They wished the Player was here.

Miss Forrest thought for a long moment, then asked, “What was your life like before you found the monsters, Frisk?”

Slowly, Frisk’s hands curled into fists in their shorts. They sharply shook their head.

They didn’t want to think about her.

“Do the monsters… help you?”

Relaxing slightly, Frisk nodded. 

“How do they help you?” Miss Forrest asked with a sad smile.

JUST DO WHAT I WOULD DO: BELIEVE IN YOU!

be careful out there, because someone really cares about you.

You can do it, punk!

Watching you made me feel better about myself.

Knock ‘em dead, darling.

You are the future of humans and monsters.

Yo! If you want to hurt my friend, you’ll have to get through me, first!

You’re the kind of friend I always wanted, Frisk.

Smiling slightly, Frisk relaxed even more, stimming with their fingers.

“Do you understand why I need you to help me understand?” Miss Forrest said gently. “The police will take you away from your mother if they have any cause at all to believe today’s incident is because of your exposure to monsters.”

Immediately tensing and shaking with a whine, Frisk started rocking even harder, shaking their head harshly. Monsters were their only family, their only friends. The only people who wanted them around. They hated how cruelly they were treated by humans as much as Chara, but violence wasn’t the answer. This world isn’t kill or be killed.

Don’t kill, and don’t be killed.

“Then why did you attack Principal Martinez?”

Frisk steeled themself and grabbed a sheet of paper off the table next to them and a crayon, then started drawing. Miss Forrest watched them carefully, then turned her gaze to the paper.

Frisk drew Chara.

“Is that you?”

Frisk shook their head.

Furrowing her brow, Miss Forrest settled a bit more and asked, “So that’s someone else?”

Frisk nodded, then took a deep breath and continued drawing tall figures of humans surrounding them with angry faces. Then, they took a red crayon and violently scribbled over Chara.

“That’s enough,” Miss Forrest said gently, placing a hand over theirs, and Frisk dropped the crayon and pulled their hands back to their stomach. “That’s enough, Frisk.”

Frisk started rocking again.

Gingerly picking up the paper, Miss Forrest stared down at it for a long moment, her eyes misting slightly. “So… humans hurt this child?”

Frisk nodded.

“And that’s why…?”

Frisk nodded again.

“I see,” Miss Forrest sighed, gently setting the paper down again. Standing up and perching on the edge of her desk, she folded her hands between her thighs and looked down at Frisk. “Are you scared of humans, honey?”

Frisk shrugged, wringing their sleeve once more.

It was then that a knock came at the door.

Perking up, Miss Forrest stood up and cracked the door open, peering outside. After a moment, she relaxed and smiled, opening the door to reveal-

“Mom!” Frisk cried, jumping off the chair and running to Toriel, who kneeled down and embraced them with a loving nuzzle, cradling the back of their head. Over her shoulder they could also see a police officer and- “Sans!”

“heya kiddo,” Sans said with a wink, his hands in his hoodie pockets. 

“Oh, my child,” Toriel cried, caressing their hair. “I left work and called Sans as soon as I got the call.”

Miss Forrest watched the exchange with a soft expression, then urged, “Please, please, come in. Have a seat. I have snacks.”

“oh, sorry, i don’t do human snacks, they pass right through me,” Sans answered with another wink, and Miss Forrest chuckled as he ambled in and hauled himself up onto a chair. Toriel, meanwhile, took Frisk’s hand and led them to the other chair, where she sat and pulled them into her lap. The police officer, a bald human man with dark brown skin and tired eyes, stepped inside and stood against the wall with crossed arms, allowing Miss Forrest to shut the door behind them.

“So,” Miss Forrest sighed, rounding her desk again and sitting down, rolling closer. “Are you Frisk’s mother and father?”

“ehhh,” Sans croaked with a blush, “family friend. just here to, y’know, offer support.”

Toriel pricked her ears up and calmly said, “I would very much appreciate him being able to stay, and I am sure Frisk would as well."

“Of course, that’s no problem,” Miss Forrest said kindly as Sans glanced at the table between their chairs, spying the drawing. Easy as anything, he subtly grabbed the paper and folded it, tucking it in his hoodie before Toriel could see it, and Frisk felt Chara relax slightly in the back of their head.

The officer, however, noticed, tilting his head and gesturing at Sans. “What did you just pocket?”

Sans glanced over with an easy smile and shrugged. “one of the kid’s drawings. we’ll take it home.”

Miss Forrest folded her hands on her desk and announced, “If you would, Mr…?”

“please, call me sans. ‘mr. aster’ is my father.”

“Sans— if you’d be so kind as to pull the paper back out, I would like to discuss it.”

Toriel flicked an ear and asked, “Frisk drew something?” as Frisk glanced at Sans in a panic, catching his eye.

“Yes,” Miss Forrest answered, “and it raised my concerns about their history with humans. If you look at the drawing-”

Sans reached into his hoodie again and pulled out-... a rubber chicken. “oops, sorry, how’d that get there,” he chuckled, dropping it to the floor with a sad honk before reaching into his hoodie again. Next came out a long string of tied-together handkerchiefs-

“Sans,” Toriel warned softly.

“sorry,” he muttered, dropping the last of the cloth before pulling out the drawing… which was drenched in ketchup. “ah, shoot. the cap must’ve been loose on my ‘chup stash.”

“My child,” Toriel prompted instead, nosing their head, “do you feel comfortable telling us what you drew?”

Frisk pulled their sleeves over their hands and thought for a long moment before leaning up by her ear and whispering, “Bullies.”

Chara snorted.

“Bullies?” Toriel repeated, and at Frisk’s nod, she frowned and sighed, holding them closer as she looked to Miss Forrest and the officer. “I’ve known Frisk has struggled with bullying for a while, and I have taught them how to manage the aftermath at home, but I am afraid that my power to mitigate it here at this school is limited. That is more the faculty’s jurisdiction.”

Frowning, Miss Forrest sighed and nursed her temple before gently saying, “And I am sorry that Sunnyside seems to have failed to mitigate that. However, this does not excuse Frisk seriously harming Mr. Martinez.”

The officer, whose name badge read ‘Clements,’ spoke up then and added, “He’s declined to press criminal charges, despite your child severing the tendons in his hand. He may never have full motor control again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Frisk cried quietly, hiding their face in Toriel’s fur, and Sans gave them a knowing, sympathetic glance. In the back of their head, Chara withdrew even further.

Gently leaning Frisk back to make them meet her soft gaze, Toriel gingerly prompted, “Did you feel frightened by Mr. Martinez?”

Frisk clenched their jaw and shook their head.

“Were you… angry? That is so unlike you.”

Biting their lip, Frisk shook their head again.

“My child,” Toriel said patiently, “why did you hurt that man?”

Frisk looked to Sans, turning pale.

Tossing the ketchup-soaked paper in the trash and using a tissue to wipe off his hand, Sans quietly prompted, “were you seeing someone else at the time, kiddo?”

Taking a deep breath, Frisk nodded.

“someone who hurt ya?”

Frisk nodded again. Not them per se, but Chara definitely wasn’t… all there.

Humming, Sans looked to Miss Forrest and Officer Clements and said, “frisk has been through a lot before they met us. we’ve been trying to get them into therapy, but uh… monsters can’t get social benefits or free healthcare, and frisk can’t exactly do it themself.”

Miss Forrest’s brow wrinkled in sympathy at that, while Officer Clements looked… regretful. “It was a special exception that Miss Toriel was allowed custody of Frisk. There’s no birth records, no match in the DNA database, no proof of citizenship… Even so, if Frisk has needs that you cannot meet, I would advise that you surrender them to foster care.”

“Absolutely not,” Toriel said sharply. “I asked them where they wanted to go when they freed us from the Underground, and I asked them again recently if they wanted to stay with me, and Frisk- tell them what you told me.”

Making eye contact with Miss Forrest and Officer Clements, Frisk curled further into Toriel’s chest.

Toriel pressed a kiss to the top of their head and looked defiantly at Officer Clements.

“I see,” Miss Forrest said gently, then sighed, rubbing her temple. “My advice… is that Frisk be transitioned to homeschooling. I’m not sure a public school environment is right for them.”

Toriel swiveled her ears as her brow pinched upwards, looking down at Frisk. “Is that… something you would want, my child?”

Frisk eagerly nodded, perking up slightly.

Toriel’s expression softened, then, as she caressed Frisk’s cheek. “I… I am sorry, darling, but… I need to work to support us, and I do not know who would watch you, teach you-”

“ahem,” Sans interrupted, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his skull.

“Oh, Sans,” Toriel fussed, “your brother-”

“is gone most days even longer than you are, tori. besides, i grew up homeschooled, so i know what it entails. learning the human requirements for it should be a piece of cake.”

“Who would care for your father?”

At this, Sans sobered a bit. “well… i was thinking he could, y’know, hang out maybe? help, even?” At Toriel’s face, Sans huffed, “i’m not gonna put him in a nursing home, tori.”

“Just…” Toriel started, strained, before she sighed and lowered her gaze. “For Frisk’s sake… I suppose… But… Sans, I cannot ask this of you.”

“you ain’t askin’, i’m volunteering,” Sans replied with a wink. “you’d like me as your teacher, wouldn’t you kiddo?”

Frisk gave him a tentative smile and nodded.

“then that settles it,” Sans replied with a genuine grin.

Miss Forrest beamed at them and said, “Let me get the paperwork so I can help guide you through legally withdrawing Frisk from school.”

As Miss Forrest stood up and slipped out of the office, Officer Clements shifted his weight and gruffed, “And as we discussed earlier, please call me to confirm that the flower did indeed return to your home, and keep it on the premises. I can’t promise its safety if it attacks a human again.”

“sure thing, boss.”

“Of course.”

Frisk nodded.

Sighing, Officer Clements inclined his head. “Good day to you,” he murmured, and with that, he slipped out the door.

A long beat of silence settled over the room.

“well, this is exciting,” Sans mused with a chuckle, turning to Toriel and Frisk. “a fresh start, huh kiddo?”

Frisk relaxed even more in Toriel’s arms and nodded, their eyelids growing heavy. Toriel huffed a wan laugh and nuzzled their temple, softly saying, “We will try our very best to help you heal, my child. I promise. I… I have never been a very good mother, but for you, I will try to be good.”

And with that, Frisk grabbed a fistful of her blouse and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Frisk watched houses and cars slide past as they sat in their carseat, their eyelids drooping while their head rested on the cushion of the headrest. Toriel kept glancing at them in the rearview mirror, until eventually she asked, “How are you feeling, my child?”

Frisk shrugged.

Toriel hummed and drooped her ears. “We… We will have a deeper discussion when we get home, alright?”

Frisk nodded absently.

Chara?

. . . No response.

Sighing, Frisk tried, Chara, come on.

Still no response, though they got a wave of annoyance.

So they started crying.

Toriel immediately caught onto it and pricked her ears up as she glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Oh, Frisk…” she said softly, her red eyes big and round and sad.

Stop crying. You’re upsetting Mom.

Why are you mad at me?

A sense of cold shock washed over them that wasn’t their own.

I’m not mad at you.

Then why won’t you talk to me?

Because I hurt you. Idiot.

So you abandon me?!

Isn’t that better?! You never asked for me to invade your body like this, and I’m the one who convinced you to give me control for my stupid plan! Wouldn’t everything be better if I was just gone?!

“Chara, no!” Frisk yelped, clinging to their seatbelt.

Toriel abruptly swerved the van into someone’s driveway and slammed it into park, the tires screeching and the chassis rocking as the steering wheel buckled within her steel grasp. Her entire body was shaking, her eyes wide and unseeing as she stared out the windshield for just a moment before she turned around in her seat and looked at Frisk with an indescribable expression. “What did you just say?” she breathed.

Don’t. Say. A. Word.

Frisk obeyed, shaking and staring at their mother, terrified.

“Frisk,” Toriel whispered, pleaded, begged. “Please. Why did you say that name?”

Frisk just stared at her, their expression blank.

It was at that moment the puttering motor of Sans’s moped approached, and upon seeing the van in the wrong driveway, Sans coasted along the curb and rolled to a stop, kicking down the moped stand and dismounting so he could wander up to the window and gently knock. Toriel ignored him, continuing to stare at Frisk, and Frisk stared right back.

“uh, everything okay?” Sans tried, his voice muffled from the glass.

“Stay here,” Toriel instructed, her ears pinned back as tears filled her eyes, and she let out a shaky sigh before turning and unbuckling, opening the door and exiting the van to stand with Sans, walking away several meters to collect herself.

“M’sorry,” Frisk whispered.

Shut up. Just shut up. Listen.

So Frisk slid their gaze to Toriel and Sans, straining their ears to catch their conversation.

“why the long face, tori?” Sans asked, his permagrin wan and lopsided.

Toriel shook her head and covered her mouth, and Sans grew more concerned, reaching up to gently clasp her elbow. At his touch, Toriel heaved a ragged gasp and quietly sobbed, “I’m going crazy…”

“whoa, hey, it’s okay. calm down. what makes you think you’re crazy?”

“I… I thought I heard Frisk say… I thought I heard them s-say…”

“what, a bad word?”

Toriel huffed a mirthless laugh and looked away, then murmured something too soft for Frisk to hear.

By the way Sans turned his head to look right at them, his eyelights small pinpricks, they could take a guess.

“let’s… let’s just get home, tori, okay? we stay around here much longer and we might get shot, heh…”

Sniffling, Toriel nodded, taking a few deep breaths before reaching out to squeeze Sans’s hand. Sans squeezed back, and then both adults returned to their respective vehicles. After Toriel closed the door and buckled up, she refused to so much as glance at Frisk, instead turning the minivan back on and backing out, following Sans.

Both children were quiet on the rest of the drive home.