Chapter Text

The two of them had moved to the base of the great tree, where the root bed offered somewhere decent to sit and blocked out the chill radiating from the cavern floor. They’d had to help each other walk; Asriel was badly exhausted from the expenditure of magic and the mutilations that Chara’s possession had put his body through, and while Frisk hadn’t sustained any injuries during their conflict, he still felt like someone had filled up his bones with lead. They sat a few feet away from each other on the coiled roots and watched the stars’ outlines shimmer through the barrier’s filter at the far end of the cave. They spoke very little.

Asriel craned his head around, getting a full view of the tree’s bulk. At this point, its canopy had extended across the whole cavern; the leaf-laden branches ran across the ceiling like veins of emerald. The ground was heaved and deformed like putty in numerous places where the roots had extended. The tree would likely never take in water or sunlight here; Mt. Ebott stood in the way. But it nevertheless seemed content with itself.

“Did you really do this?” Asriel asked.

“I think so.” He patted a root. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“That’s pretty cool, Frisk.”

“You were cooler. When we fought.”

“Why, what’d I do?”

“You turned into a grown-up version of yourself with huge horns and tattoos on your face.” He traced out their shape on his own cheeks. “And then you tried to blow me up with lightning bolts and shooting stars and when that didn’t work you ate the universe.”

Asriel’s eyes sparkled. “That is so cool.” Then he realized what he’d just said, and looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I got used to it.”

Silence rolled out. Asriel put his fingertips to his chest.

“He doesn’t like us talking,” he said. “Chara, I mean. He always did hate to share. Even if I took a piece of his chocolate bar or something, he’d get really mad.” A pause. “Maybe I should’ve taken that as a sign.”

“Are you happy to see him again?”

Asriel looked away. “Of course I am.”

“Then why did you help me?”

Asriel took a long time to answer. The wind played its tuneless music over the mouth of the cave as Frisk waited. Then:

“This is really weird, you know? Being like this. I’m in this body, but my soul’s with you over there, and it’s like...I’m standing on two ends of a really big room, at the same time. I’m talking, and I hear myself talking. When you and Chara fought, I was there, with both of you. Right beside these souls at once. I felt everything.” He massaged his knees. “I felt you, and how badly you wanted to save everyone. Especially me. And I heard all the monster souls cheering you on, even though Chara tried to keep them quiet. And then I listened to Chara, and...”

He trailed off.

“He was scared, wasn’t he?” Frisk asked.

“That’s right. How’d you know?”

“I recognized the look on his face.” Frisk corrected himself: “Your face.” Asriel looked at him. “It’s the way you smile.”

Asriel smiled in that way. “I guess you got to know me pretty well, huh?”

“I tried.”

“But you’re right. I mean, at first I was so glad to be with him again that I didn’t really care what happened. But as time went on, I started to think that even if he won, and did...everything he wanted to do...he still wouldn’t been happy.” Asriel looked down. “He doesn’t like me saying that, either.” He gently punched his chest. “But he knows I’m right.”

“Thanks. For the help.”

“Yeah,” Asriel said quietly. “No problem.”

Another period of silence. More dim lights poked though the barrier. Frisk kept his elbows propped up on his knees; his whole body felt like it wanted to fold in on itself.

“Frisk. I know what happens next. Chara told me.”

Frisk said nothing.

“I use the power of the souls to break the barrier. The monsters go free. I stay behind. And, eventually, I...turn back. Right?”

“Yeah.” He turned his head; Asriel was still staring at the barrier, dim light laying on his fur like gauze. “Are you still going to free everyone?”

“Of course. It’s only right. Not like I can do anything else with these souls, anyway. I’m, uh, not really in the mood for a fight. Haha.” The laugh didn’t sound very sincere. Then, even quieter: “I know why you’re here, too.”

Frisk placed his palm against his heart.

“You have something that belonged to me,” Asriel said.

“It’s still yours,” Frisk said. “If you want it.”

Asriel didn’t answer. Frisk looked over and saw him bent down, staring at his feet. His hanging ears obscured his expression. But Frisk didn’t need to see his face.

“...you don’t.”

Asriel whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The wind murmured its concern.

“I know you tried really hard, Frisk. And I appreciate it. But I can’t.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to see them again. Not after everything I’ve done.”

“You think they’ll be mad?”

“What? No.” He laughed and choked on it halfway through. “I think they won’t be. We’re the only ones who know the way I’ve acted since I...came back.” He clutched his head. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve hurt all of them? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve killed all of them? Every single one. Again. And again.” His voice cracked. “All those people...my parents...I couldn’t see their faces again, knowing what I did. I’d have to lie to them every day so they could stay happy. And I can’t do that. I can’t. I just can’t.”

Frisk’s head bowed low.

“Frisk, it’s all right if you don’t understand. It’s good, actually. You shouldn’t have to.” Asriel rested his hands on his knees; he still wouldn’t try to meet Frisk’s eye. “I mean, the two of us couldn’t be more different. I got so tired of resetting that I did all those awful things. But you refused to hurt anyone, no matter how many times you reset, just to save me-”

“No,” Frisk said. “That’s not true.”

Asriel looked up. “Huh?”

Frisk sat limned in that pale light, his hair veiling his eyes. His arms shook from the effort of bearing up his own weight.

“I was being selfish,” he said.

Asriel tilted his head in confusion.

“The first time we fought, when you believed I was him,” he pointed at Asriel’s chest, “you said that you didn’t want me to leave. You wanted me to let you win, just so you could reset and keep playing with me. You really wanted us to be friends. No matter what it took.” He paused. “And. Even though it hurt. And even though I was scared. I realized that I felt the same way.”

Asriel blinked. He reddened under his fur.

“Maybe it was because you were the first person I met, when I fell down. Maybe it was the story all the monsters told me on the way to Asgore’s castle.” Frisk shrugged. “Maybe it was just because you looked really awesome. But it didn’t matter. In the end, I still had to help everyone. I beat you. You broke the barrier. We left. And I left you behind.”

Frisk’s hands started to shake.

“Everyone was so happy out there. They all got everything they wanted. But all I could think about was you. Every day I looked at that mountain and thought about you in there. All alone. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Until one day. I thought to myself, ‘I can do better.’ That was when I heard Chara’s voice. And the next thing I knew, I was back underground. Back where I’d fallen down. And no one remembered anything. Not even you.

“I did it all again. I tried my best not to hurt anyone, like you’d asked. I saved everyone again. But I still couldn’t help you. I didn’t even know how. So I did it again, and tried to find a way. But I failed. So I did it again, and again, and again. Because I could. And I thought that meant I had to.” His voice trembled. “I didn’t want all the time I’d spent down here to be for nothing. And, eventually, I started to h-hate myself for what I was doing.” He sniffed hard, rubbed his face with his sleeve. Asriel tried to reach out to him. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Asriel scooted a little closer to him anyway. “You were doing your best, Frisk. I mean. You weren’t really hurting anyone.”

“But I was.” His voice turned hoarse. “Every happy ending they had. Even if I did things the same every time, they always turned out a little different. And I kept erasing them. All those lives. The people who lived them. They’re never coming back.” He shook his head. “Even after I asked Sans for help, that was all I could think about. Every time I met everyone, all I could remember were the things I’d taken from them. Not to save you. Just because I didn’t want it all to go to waste. Whenever I saw their faces, it just reminded me of how badly I’d hurt them all.” He paused, then looked at Asriel. “And then I learned something. That you must have felt this way, too.”

Asriel’s eyes widened. Frisk kept talking.

“I couldn’t figure it out for the longest time. Why would you try so hard to leave, and then always give up at the end? Even when I tried to find other ways to help, you’d say no. But I think I get it now. How scary it is. Wondering if all the people you care about can forgive you.”

Asriel’s shoulders shook. Frisk reached out to comfort him, then paused, put his hand back down, and looked out at the barrier.

“Asriel, listen. If you want to stay, then I won’t stop you. It’s your choice, in the end. But I’ve met everyone down here more times than I can count. Even if I didn’t know them for very long, I relived that time so often that I think I can understand them. And I know they’ll all accept what you’ve done. They won’t even have to think about it. We’ll both be forgiven for everything.” He paused. “But that’s just the easy part. Because they’ll never really know how we acted, or what we did. That stays with us. And we’ll have to make it up to them. I don’t know how. I’m not even sure if there is a way. But, I’m going to try and find one. And if you decide to leave, we’ll find it together.”

Asriel’s voice, small and frail: “I don’t even know if they want to see me again.”

“You know better. You can hear all their voices. And I heard the story they told, every time I walked to the castle. I saw the regret on their faces. How badly they wished they could take it back. They all want you to come home.” He clasped his shaking hands together. “And so do I. More than anything.”

Frisk’s words ran out. He huddled beneath the weight of his exhaustion. The leaves overhead rustled like an audience.

Asriel sat there for a long time, his eyes shut, his palms crossed over his chest. The breeze teased his fur and tugged at his ears, but besides that, he was unmoving as marble. Until finally, he opened his eyes again, and spoke.

“I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

Frisk angled his head to Asriel, his expression briefly confused. Then he realized what he’d just heard, and started to beam wide – until he noticed how Asriel clutched at his sides, shaking all over, his eyes wet and overbright.

“I’m so afraid, Frisk.” Fresh tear-trails ran down his cheeks.

“...I know. It’s going to be hard. Not knowing how things will turn out. But everyone will be there for you. I promise.” Frisk paused, then added, “Is he okay?”

“Who, Chara?” Asriel smiled through his tears, put his fingertips to his chest. “He’s hardly scared of anything. I always liked that about him.” Asriel held that pose; a number of complicated expressions passed over his face like rainclouds, from doubt to joy to surprise. Then, his breathing quickened. He held back his sobs, and said, “You know he’ll try to stop you.”

“I don’t think so. We already fought.”

Asriel shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Frisk watched as he clutched his heart again, eyes shut. His tears ran down his muzzle and dripped into his lap. But he struggled to keep smiling.

He said, “Goodbye.”

“What?” Frisk struggled to lean closer; the least movement had become an ordeal. “Asriel, what did you-”

“He wasn’t talking to you.”

Asriel’s face, but someone else’s words. His head had turned to face Frisk’s with reptile quickness. Even though his grin was gone, Frisk could still recognize Chara straight off – that flat, direct tone, that veneer of contempt over his face. The ember of his soul flickered over Asriel’s heart. He dabbed at his eyes and looked at the moisture clinging to Asriel’s claws with disgust.

“Unbelievable. I leave him alone for fifteen minutes and he turns the waterworks back on. After all this time, you’d think he’d have learned to stop crying so much.”

“We were crying, too.”

“Shut up.” Chara wiped his hand on his pant leg, regarded Frisk out the corner of his eye. “So. You convinced him.”

“I just told him how I felt.” Frisk looked down and twiddled his thumbs. “I know you wanted him to stay, but-”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s made his choice. And there’s no point arguing with him once he makes up his mind. He’s a lot more stubborn than he looks.” He sighed, and added, “I guess we both figured that out the hard way.”

Frisk didn’t reply.

“He wants me to apologize. And I’m not going to. You’d have done the same thing, if you were me.”

“Maybe. But I’m not.”

Frisk’s head perked up; he had remembered something. He reached into his pocket and withdrew Chara’s locket, that gold heart slowly spinning at the end of its chain. He held it out, but Chara recoiled as though it were a live snake.

“Where did you...you took that off my body? Why?”

“It’s yours.” The locket flashed in the dim light. “When you left the throne room, you made it sound like we’d meet again later. So I thought you might want-”

“I don’t,” Chara snapped. “Put that stupid thing away.”

Frisk frowned, and reluctantly pocketed it again. Chara seemed to withdraw into himself. He gazed at the barrier in the distance.

“The person who wore that has been gone for a long time,” he said.

“But you’re right here.”

“No, I’m not. I’m...passing through. That’s all this is.” He stood up slowly, as if he was still a little uncertain as to how Asriel’s limbs worked. “One day, I decided to take a walk. It just went on a lot longer than I expected.”

Frisk stared in confusion as Chara shuffled off. He stopped a fair distance away, standing between Frisk and the barrier, silhouetted in starlight.

“It’ll be terrible out there,” he said. “ You know that, right? Sure, everyone will be okay at first. Then people will show their true colors again. You’ll lose everything again. Another war. Another prison. More time down in the dark. And it’ll hurt even worse, because you’ll all know what it felt like when things were different. Even if it was just for a little while.” His fists clenched at his sides. “All that world ever does is take. I found that out myself.” He looked over his shoulder. “But then I see that expression on your face. And I wonder why you don’t feel the same way.”

Frisk remained silent as he considered the question. Chara’s stolen shadow fell over him, but a shadow was all it was – all the malice had gone out of it. The pools of ivory on the stony floor slowly shifted as the stars made their journey through the skies beyond the barrier.

“I made a lot of really good friends,” Frisk said at last. “I want to believe they’ll be happy. So I hope for the best.”

Chara shook his head and tried to laugh, but the sound broke apart in his throat.

He said, “You two really are perfect for each other.”

He turned and faced Frisk head-on, back slightly hunched, arms limp at his sides. He inhaled deeply. As if preparing himself for something.

“No one is above consequences. No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to forget what happened to you down here. The people you’ve hurt. The choices you’ve made. They’ll cling to you wherever you go. You’ll never get to lead normal lives.”

Then he smiled. Not that dimpled rictus Frisk had seen before. It was rueful, weary. But genuine.

“I guess you’ll need to be satisfied with what you have,” he said. “As for me...I made my choice long ago.”

He brought his hands up to his chest, palms apart, facing each other. The red light brightened, concentrated, and slid out of Asriel’s body in a glowing sphere; it no longer displayed that frenzied, insectile movement Frisk had first seen in the throne room, but beat softly between Chara’s hands, a single point of color amidst the chiaroscuro of the cavern.

Chara’s smile widened, turned triumphant. And that was when Frisk looked up, and saw the single knife hanging overhead, the silver fang of its blade pointed down.

“This is one ending you don’t get to change.”

Frisk stood up and ran to him. Far too late. He didn’t make it three steps before the knife fell; with a single clear note that rang in the frosty air, it sliced Chara’s soul in half. The two halves remained held between his palms. They did not refuse.

“Goodbye, Asriel.” The divided light splintered. “Thank you for being my friend. Despite everything.”

The soul shattered into shards of red. Asriel fell to his knees. Frisk tried to keep running, stumbled, and skidded across the ground with his palms held out. The light passed right through him; the soul was beyond repair. But as it faded, he felt something nonetheless. A lingering sentiment. Maybe gratitude. Maybe relief.

Asriel’s eyes refocused. He looked down at Frisk’s curled and clutching hands.

“Like I said. He always hated to share.”

Frisk looked up, his skin clammy with horror. “I didn’t mean for him to-”

Asriel shook his head, offered Frisk his hand. After a moment, Frisk took it. They helped each other back to their feet.

“I was so sure that he’d be angry with me.” Asriel’s grip tightened. “When I made my choice, I mean. But do you know what he said? He said I was going to do a great job. No matter what I did.” He clutched Frisk’s arm like a lifeline. “He never told me anything like that before. Do you think he meant it?”

Frisk remembered all the timelines he’d undone. Chara always in his shadow, over his shoulder. Chara listening to Asriel’s every goodbye.

With his free hand, he offered Asriel the locket.

“I know he did,” Frisk said.

Asriel sniffled, released him, held out his palm. Frisk dropped the necklace into it and watched as Asriel slipped it around his neck. The scarred gold heart rested against his own.

"He didn't talk to me at all when we came back from the surface, you know. But I could feel how mad he was. I didn't even know if we were still friends." His lip quivered. "I think that's why I spent all that time calling to him. I never actually thought he'd answer. But even if he didn't want to play with me anymore, I really wanted a chance to say goodbye. That I was sorry." He clutched the locket through his shirt. “I guess he wanted that, too, even if he had trouble admitting it. Frisk, he was so tired.”

“So are we.” And indeed, Frisk looked ready to fall over.

“But we’ll keep going. You and me. All Chara wanted was to rest. He just couldn't figure out what was keeping him here. It probably would’ve been a lot easier if he’d just asked someone to help him. But I don’t think he ever really learned how.” He wiped his tears away. “But I'm glad we got to meet again. Without anything left to hide. We knew each other for a long time. But I think, at the end, we finally understood each other.” He looked up and smiled, and it reached his eyes. “Thanks for giving us that chance.”

Frisk hung his head. Then, he cupped his hand under his chest.

“Are you ready?”

Asriel shook his head, his expression resolute. He turned and faced the barrier.

“I have something better to do.”

He took several steps forward, arms held out, fingers splayed. A strange thrumming filled the air.

“You must’ve seen me do this a hundred times by now, right, Frisk?” The thrum intensified. “I guess I’ll just have to make this one really impressive.”

His whole body started to glow, firefly-lights playing beneath his skin. Frisk retreated to the safety of the root bed as Asriel’s power built; his heels left the floor, then his toes, and then he was afloat, and burning bright enough to print the curled black silhouettes of his fingers on the far end of the vast cavern. Those shadows bent in towards the barrier as if they meant to pull it apart. And when Asriel spoke, his voice was soft and unassuming as ever, but echoed with such strength that it could have been heard throughout half the vacant underground:

“Howdy, everyone. My name is Asriel Dreemurr.”

He sounded almost embarrassed at his own introduction. But then he gained confidence.

“Most of you don’t know me. But I’ve caused you all a lot of trouble. And my friends caused even more trouble, on my behalf. Please don’t be mad at them. I know they were trying their best. And it’s because of them that I’m here right now, able to do this for all of you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I have a lot to apologize for. So, I hope this will help me start to make amends. And when I apologize...I’ll be able to do it in person.

“It’s time for all of us to go free.”

Asriel placed his palms against his chest. Burning light poured through his fingers. The cave filled with a single, sweet note like a tensed violin string. And then he flung his arms out, and the torrent of souls burst forth, pearly chips of radiance that cut apart the dark wherever they flew, shining brighter than even the barrier’s subdued stars, and through that storm of light could be seen the colored tails of the human souls playfully streaking this way and that, glad to be free of their captivity. Souls produced no wind, but Frisk’s hair and clothes blew about him as if in a great gale and all the tree branches shivered and danced; souls made no sound, but the underground was filled with a chiming melody that seemed somehow familiar, all those lights singing to each other, amplifying one another’s voices, until even the barrier shrank back and quavered from their chorus.

Frisk felt warmth pulsating deep within his breastbone and looked down to see more light pouring from his heart. He held out his hands and Asriel’s soul emerged; it remained obediently between his palms, but shook like an iron filing near a lodestone, and as the song played, its eagerness became more and more intense. The howling wind and shivering branches added instrumentation. Frisk had to fight to keep Asriel’s unleashed power from blowing him away.

Asriel’s locket emerged from his shirt collar and floated in front of his face, the pendant straining against his neck. He held out one hand that flamed with color. He allowed himself a brief, cocky grin as the souls ceased their commotion and stayed in place, making it seem as though the air was filled with diamond dust.

He snapped his fingers.

The sound cut apart the song. It cut loose the souls. And as they all burst apart and returned to where they had come, and the human souls flew out and away like comets, and Asriel’s own soul finally wriggled free of Frisk’s grip and lanced into his back, that sound cracked the barrier like windowglass, and the opaque wall shattered with enough force to send both Frisk and Asriel flying. Every branch blew back, Frisk tripped over the tree roots, Asriel fell earthward and slammed into Frisk’s outstretched arms, and the murky light of the barrier collapsed in prisms, falling down, fading out, already gone.

The silence that followed was very loud. The starlight, very bright. And the air from the surface already made the cavern smell sweeter.

Asriel rolled off Frisk. He’d been flattened against the root bed.

“Sorry! Sorry, that last part was an accident! Here, let me just...” He tried to pull Frisk up, then let go. “No. No, that’s not happening.” He caught his breath, then asked, “Are you okay?”

Frisk lay in the root bed, hair over his eyes. His breathing was shallow and slow.

“That was amazing, Asriel.”

Asriel blushed. “Uh. Thanks.” He glanced over his shoulder, where several more silhouettes could be seem against the underground’s entrance. “I wonder if they’ll remember any of it?”

“Your soul. I saw it fly into you. How do you feel?” He had to fight to say every word.

“I’m. Um.” He experimentally ran his hands over his body. “I feel like...I’m still here.” He grinned wide; his fangs shone. “Frisk, I think I’m actually back.”

“That’s good.” Frisk’s voice had become very faint. His head lowered until his chin touched his chest. “Then I’m done.”

Asriel saw the locket resting against his shirt and tucked it back in; he paused to draw out the light of his soul, and smiled even wider at that pale glow. Behind him, other voices could be heard.

“Oh, my goodness. It appears we missed quite a bit. Does anyone remember what happened?”

“I’m not sure! I think I was cheering someone on! But that really doesn’t narrow it down! Hey, Sans, do you have any idea?”

“I have lots of ideas.”

“Wow! That was cryptic and unhelpful!”

“Doin’ my best, bro.”

“Tori, dear?”

“I told you not to call me that, Asgore.”

“Toriel, dear?”

“Yes, Asgore?”

“The barrier is broken.”

“Yes, Asgore.”

“And there is a rather large tree in this cave.”

“Yes, Asgore.”

“Er, Your Majesty, are you okay? You’re don’t seem to be...I mean, you’re not. Um. B-blinking.”

“Don’t worry, Alphys, he gets like this sometimes. Once he broke his favorite watering can and just sat there with that goofy expression for, like, two hours. I had to noogie him out of it. Did you know there’s no laws against giving noogies to royalty? I checked!”

Asriel took Frisk’s hand. “They sure make a lot of noise, huh?”

Frisk didn’t respond.

“I guess we’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” He stood up. “Let’s go.”

Frisk didn’t move.

Asriel looked back, his smile gone. “...Frisk?”

He remained where he was, amidst the tangled roots. The breeze shifted the locks of his unkempt hair to and fro. Besides that, he lay very still. Asriel let go of his hand. It fell limp at his side.

“Frisk, this isn’t funny.” He looked over his shoulder. “They’re gonna be here any second.”

The only answer came from the rustling leaves high overhead. Asriel’s breath started to seize and spasm. He knelt besides Frisk, shook him gently by the shoulder.

“You’ve got a really sick sense of humor, you know that?” He tried to smile again as his eyes began to sting. “You said we’d do this together. You promised. You wouldn’t break a promise, right?” He shook harder. “Wake up!”

Frisk’s head lolled to the side. And now the sobs started again, huge gulps of air that shook Asriel’s small body down to the bone. He hammered Frisk on the chest with everything he had. Frisk didn’t react. Teardrops spotted the dirty cloth of his shirt.

“No, no, not like this. Frisk, I’m not worth this. I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. Don’t leave me alone again!” He clutched Frisk’s shirt and bent, weeping, against his thin chest. Footsteps drew closer to the tree, and then stopped. He didn’t pay them any mind.

“Please don’t leave,” he sobbed. “I can’t do this by myself.”

Then, when he stopped talking, and laid his head against Frisk’s heart, he heard the sound.

Frisk’s heartbeat, steady and low.

And then, a moment later, the gentle rasp of Frisk’s snoring.

Asriel sat bolt upright, tears still running down his face. His expression was impossible to describe. His face was host to several complicated emotions at once, and none of them were pleased to see each other. Then he looked around, and saw six pairs of eyes. Technically, three and a half pairs of eyes, and two pairs of eyesockets. All less than a dozen paces away. All staring directly at him.

Asriel giggled weakly, and then fainted.

The six assembled monsters took in this sight for some time – Frisk and Asriel sprawled atop each other, curled up in the root bed, Asriel’s breath already deepening as he passed into real sleep. Toriel’s own breath quickened, little by little. Her eyes filmed over with moisture.

“Asriel.” Her voice was a thin creak. Then she rushed forward. “Asriel!”

She picked him up and held him close; she handled him like he was made of glass. Her tears flowed and dripped down onto his face, making his muzzle wrinkle in irritation. She hastily wiped her eyes dry with her sleeve, scooped up Frisk, and held them both to her chest, all the while emitting a steady stream of semi-hysterical fretting that seemed to make even the tree nervously shrink away.

“Asriel. Frisk! My children, are you hurt? Are you ill? Do you have a temperature? No, you feel fine. But you cannot feel fine. You were...you were...” She shook her head. “The barrier broken, and you here with me...this is not real. It is a dream. You are going to leave again. Please do not leave.” She held them tighter, rested her head against their own. “Please stay!”

Sans cleared his throat.

“Uh, Toriel, right? I know it ain’t my place to say, but if you hug those kids any tighter I think you’re gonna break ‘em.”

Toriel turned around, that copper-colored eye made redder from her tears. Then, gradually she relaxed.

“Yes. Yes, of course. It is important to remain calm. Dream or not.” She still didn’t let go.

Papyrus bent over next to Sans and whispered in a voice that absolutely everyone could hear. “Sans. I have so many questions.”

“That’s the King and Queen’s son, he and Frisk probably helped break the barrier, I have no idea where the tree’s from, and as for what they’re doing, it looks like they’re avoiding a real awkward conversation for a little while.”

“Most of those answers weren’t cryptic at all! See, Sans? You’ve already improved so much!”

“Heh heh, thanks.” Sans glanced over at Alphys, whose eyes had gone so wide that her glasses were now lost in a sea of cornea. Her jaw hung slightly open. With difficulty, she swiveled her gaze over to Sans. Sans winked and tapped where the side of his nose would have been.

Undyne glared up at the tree like it had just insulted her cooking.

“Little kids, crying moms, and gardening. I couldn’t be more out of my element here if I tried. Uh, no offense, Your Majesty. Your kid looks pretty cute.” She looked over. “King Asgore? Are you still doing that thing? You want I should noogie you again?”

“Asgore, for heaven’s sake!” Toriel looked up at him with fire in her eye. “Do you intend to stand there all night?”

Asgore blinked for the first time in ninety seconds. The tendons in his thick neck audibly creaked as he turned to Toriel. His smile was wide and glassy.

“Oh, howdy, Toriel,” he said vaguely. “What can I do for you on this lovely evening?”

Toriel’s expression softened.

“Asgore, why don’t you go back to the house, and...I don’t know, make the children’s beds. I doubt that they have been aired out in years, and Frisk and Asriel clearly need some proper sleep. Do something useful, won’t you?”

“Ah, yes. What a fine idea. I will go and. Make the bed. For my son. Who is here. Alongside the child I had just tried to kill.” He remained where he was. “I will just. Step around this rather large tree. That appeared behind my throne room. And get right on that.” He still didn’t move.

Toriel sighed. She gently laid Frisk and Asriel back out on the roots and turned, kneeling before the group. “The King has suffered a small shock. Could someone please-”

“Yeah, yeah, say no more, I got it.” Undyne slung a companionable arm around Asgore’s shoulder – she almost had to stand on tiptoe to manage it, but she made the effort. “C’mon, your Majesty, off we go. One step at a time.” Asgore started to walk. “Yeah, that’s perfect, move those stubby little legs, one-two, one-two. Don’t make me carry you, that’ll just be embarrassing for everybody.”

“Undyne, please humor an old man,” Asgore muttered. “Tell me: is any of this really happening?”

“Speaking candidly, Your Majesty, I still don’t know what the hell’s going on. But I know I’m not dreaming, at least.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Mostly ‘cause I’m not smooching Alphys in front of a volcano.” Behind her, Alphys made a noise like a mouse being stepped on.

“I see,” he said philosophically. “Excuse me a moment.”

Asgore shrugged off Undyne’s arm and walked over to Toriel. His armor clanked and rattled. His hulking shadow fell over her and the two children. He knelt down, his mantle puddled around his feet. He held out his hands.

“May I?”

Toriel didn’t hesitate. She picked up Asriel’s sleeping body and offered it to Asgore. “Of course.”

With infinite gentleness, Asgore took him from Toriel’s hands. His palms alone nearly enfolded Asriel’s entire body; he cradled him in those massive arms. He stared down at him for a long time, watching his chest rise and fall in the depths of sleep. Then he pressed him against his breastplate, careful not to nick him on the metal. The cave went very quiet. Everyone heard the way his breath shuddered as he held his son close. Papyrus’ eyesockets streamed with tears; Sans produced a hanky from his hoodie, handed it up, let Papyrus dry off his skull, took it back, wrung it out, and replaced it.

After several minutes, Asgore softly kissed Asriel on the forehead and set him back down. Then he stood, eyes wet, voice brisk.

“Right, then. Work to be done. Undyne, lead the way. And then I would quite grateful if you could survey the underground and see if this magnificent specimen did any damage.” He patted the tree’s trunk. “Its roots must spread through half the city by now.”

Undyne nodded solemnly. “Yes, Your Majesty. This way, please.”

Asgore clanked off. Alphys watched them go. Her scales had turned beet red.

“A volcano,” she said. “Well. That’s nice. At least I know where to take her after we leave. Silver linings. Eh heh heh.” She shook her head, smacked the sides of her snout. “Um, Y-your Majesty, I mean, Your Grace, I, uh-”

“Just Toriel, dear. You are Alphys, the Royal Scientist, correct?”

“Right. Yes. That’s the job I do, all right! Ha ha!” Her glasses had steamed over; her mouth was locked in a helpless grin. “I think I should, um, get back to the lab and get online. To spread the word, I mean. About the barrier breaking. That seems like a good thing to do right now.” She glanced at Sans again. “And, um, if you need to give your son a check-up or something later, I can help with that too. Resurrection really takes it out of you! Ha ha ha! That was a joke! But it really happened! So I don’t know if it’s still funny!” She took a very deep breath, and said, “I should go.”

She shuffled off, looking as though she’d fall over with every step.

Sans said, “I’ll give you a call later, Alphys. We’ll catch up a little.”

“Thanks, Sans,” she said, without turning around. “Off I go. To do my job. And then I should lie down for a little while...”

Papyrus raised an arm. “What about me? I’m always brimming with helpfulness!”

“Yeah, Pap, I’ve actually got an idea.” Sans looked up at him. “How’s about you give Alphys a hand? Help her get the news out. Go around and let everyone know that the barrier’s busted, but Asgore would really appreciate it if they could wait ‘til he said it was safe to go. I think the King and Queen would prefer that these kids got some time to rest. Even better if you pulled it off before any crazy rumors started goin’ up online.”

“You mean I get to help the King, Frisk, and you at the same time? Say no more!” He saluted hard enough for his popping elbow joint to echo. “I, the great Papyrus, shall be the first monster in history to outrun the Internet!”

“You’re the best, bro.”

“Don’t worry, Sans! You’re a close second place! Nyeh heh heh!”

Papyrus took off fast enough to create a small sonic boom; he cleared the entire root bed in a single leap as he sped out of the cavern. When his footsteps and laugh had finally faded away, it was just Sans, Toriel, and the children, standing alone in the starlight.

“That should buy us all the time we need,” Sans said. “We all might’ve been waitin’ for generations to leave the underground, but no one wants to disappoint Papyrus.” He sauntered up to Toriel and looked down at the sleeping Frisk. “You want some help carrying these two home? They’re sort of a handful for just one person.”

“Yes, Sans. I would like that.” Toriel took Sans by the hand; his pupils briefly flared up. “Be honest with me. Are you responsible for this?”

He coughed nervously. “Me? Nah. It was all Frisk. I just tagged along for a little bit.”

“Is that so.” She still wouldn’t let him go. “This is a miracle.”

“You could call it that, sure. But I know for a fact it took a lot of hard work. ‘s probably why they’re so tuckered out right now.” He prodded Frisk with the toe of his slipper. “Especially this little guy. Poor kid’s allergic to a decent night’s rest.”

Without another word, Toriel released his hand and picked up Asriel. Sans swiped the perspiration off his skull and did the same for Frisk.

“Man, he hardly weighs anything.” He rested Frisk against his shoulder; Frisk nuzzled his cheek deeper into Sans’ hoodie. “Hey, Tori? Toriel, I mean.”

“Yes, Sans?”

“I was just thinking, since we’re kinda spinning our wheels ‘til these two wake up and Papyrus is busy and all...if you maybe want to, I dunno, kill some time over coffee or something. ”

“I would.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Heh heh. Cool.”

“And Sans?”

“Yeah?”

“You were not being honest.”

Toriel was still smiling, but that warm red glare augered through him. Sans didn’t stand a chance; she could wield matronly disapproval like a scalpel.

“I have not forgotten the promise you made through that door. And I know full well that neither of these children would be here, if not for you.” She cradled Asriel’s head in her palm. “Perhaps it is not my place to say. But I think you should take some responsibility for the things you have done.”

She set off for the exit, leaving the catatonic Sans behind.

“In any case,” she added, “you deserve pie.”

“Uh. Yeah. Pie sounds good.” He hiked up Frisk a little higher on his shoulder and followed after her. “But let’s put these kids to bed first.”

His voice filtered down into Frisk’s dreamless sleep.

“They’ve had a bad time.”

* * *

Frisk opened his eyes. This caused no discernible change in his expression.

He had a vague impression of cool sheets and clean linen before realizing he was in a proper bed; it had been a while since he’d slept in one of those. His limbs still felt heavy. He settled for turning his head instead, and taking in the room – that soft gold glow, the dresser against the wall, the framed crayon sketch of a yellow flower, the stuffed toys in the far corner with their blank button eyes and their felted fur now clean of dust. Asriel’s bedroom. He was in Chara’s old bed; the air around it was no longer oddly cold. Asriel himself was curled up in the other bed, facing the wall.

Frisk tried to sit up, and managed it on the third attempt. When the sheets slid off him, he found that he was wearing blue and purple striped pajamas. He held up one hand and flexed his fingers; his movements were still sludgy with exhaustion, but that leaden feeling in his bones had gone. He stretched and yawned. He remembered how good that felt.

“Oh, you’re finally up.”

Frisk gagged in mid-yawn. Asriel sat up, those round eyes full of worry.

“Oh no, did I startle you? Sorry, I, uh, wasn’t actually asleep. Just needed some privacy.” He nervously tugged one of those floppy ears. “It’s been kind of crazy around here lately. Haha.”

“It’s okay. Good morning.” He lowered his arms, thought for a moment, and added, “Is it morning?”

“Uh, dinner time, actually. Two days later.” Frisk’s eyebrows went up. “Yeah, you were really out of it. The pajamas were Mom’s idea, we got them from the capital. We had some of Chara’s old ones that would’ve fit you, but I thought that’d be. You know. Weird.” He gazed at the door. “She’s cooking now, I think. Asked her to lay off the snails for your sake. Dad’s been spending all his time in the garden. I mean. Literally all his time. I’m pretty sure he’s been sleeping out there. It’s still...kind of awkward between them.” He hunched over, crossed his ankles. “Guess you can’t fix everything, huh?”

Frisk didn’t answer. Asriel swung his legs back and forth for a little bit, then looked up at Frisk with mild resentment.

“You nearly scared me to death. Which would’ve been kind of a waste, after all that work.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He realized something; his expression became worried. “Wait. Does that mean you had to-”

“Explain everything? A little bit, yeah. Haha.” The laugh was uncomfortably jagged. “I mean, Mom and Dad didn’t make me or anything, but you could definitely tell it was on their minds, so might as well get it over with, right?”

“How much did you tell them?”

“Some of it.” He paused, and shrugged. “Most of it. I mean, at first I wanted you to be around for it, that’d have definitely made it easier, but once I started talking it got real hard to stop, and then I saw the look on their faces and got kind of excited, so then that got them excited, and, and.” His words were rushing out alarmingly fast. “I m-mean, they did exactly what you s-said they would. No hard feelings. All’s forgiven. Lots of hugs. They kept saying, there, there, everything is g-going to b-b-be all r-r-r...”

Asriel seized one of his pillows and buried his face in it before the sobbing started. His whole body shook so hard he nearly fell off the bed. Frisk saw that the pillowcase was already quite soggy on both sides.

“Ohh, no, not this again,” he wept. “It’s every f-fifteen minutes, I’m gonna get d-d-dehydrated at this rate...” He tried to laugh and just sobbed harder. “This is one thing I didn’t miss, it’s pathetic, Chara was right when he kept calling me a c-c-crybaby...”

His words dissolved. He bent the pillow around his muzzle and pulled his knees up to his chin, to swallow as much of the sound as possible. No one knocked at the door. Asriel had evidently been trying hard to keep anyone from hearing this.

With difficulty, Frisk swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. The seat of his pajama pants felt uncomfortably stiff, but he paid it no mind. He walked the length of the room, and sat down next to Asriel. Asriel kept bawling. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Frisk’s eye.

Frisk said, “I cried a lot, too.”

“Oh, come on.” Asriel’s breath hitched. “You’re j-just saying that to make me f-feel better.”

“It’s true.” He clasped his hands together. “Before I first fell. I’d cry until my eyes burned and it hurt to breathe. Until I started to feel sick. It got so bad I couldn’t walk around anymore. I was always too tired to move.”

Asriel sniffed and pulled the pillow away. His eyes were rimmed with red.

“How’d you get better?” he asked.

“Eventually I just stopped. Maybe I didn’t see the point anymore. No point in crying. No point in talking. Because nobody ever came to help me.” His tone was quiet, casual. “But it didn’t change anything. Even when the crying stopped, it still hurt. Just...differently. And when people finally started calling me, I didn’t know how to answer anymore.” He tilted his head toward Asriel, placed his hand flat on the bed. “I think it’s okay to cry, Asriel. It’s a lot better than forgetting how.”

Asriel sniffed, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He let the pillow fall; it made an audible squelch on contact with the carpet. He covered Frisk’s hand with his own.

“Frisk,” he said. “What are we going to do? You said we had to make it up to everyone. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Frisk didn’t reply. Instead, he fidgeted, his face scrunching up. Asriel looked confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something keeps...poking me.” He fished around in the back pocket of his pants. Paper crinkled. He pulled out an envelope like a magician’s trick. Asriel’s look of confusion intensified.

“Those clothes are brand new. How the heck did that get in there?”

“I don’t know.” He turned the letter over. “Never mind. Yes I do.”

He held it out to Asriel. On the front of the envelope, in thick, loopy print, was written the word:

heya.

Asriel did not look amused. “I never figured out how he does that.”

“Neither did I.” He opened the envelope. “Oh, wow.”

There was a sheet of paper inside covered with writing – Sans’ scribble was so small and dense that it was hard to make out the spaces between words. Frisk had to squint even harder to read it. Asriel leaned in curiously.

“What’s it say?”

“It’ll take me a while to read all this. Just look over my shoulder.”

“Okay.” Frisk heard the springs creak, then felt the heat of Asriel’s body against his own. He’d moved in so close that he was practically using Frisk’s shoulder as a chin-rest.

“...you’re a little close.”

“Yeah, but you said it’s hard to read it.”

“Okay, okay, just try to hold still.”

They peered down at Sans’ letter. It read:

Hey, Frisk.

Looks like you pulled it off. Got a little weird toward the end there, but like I said before, weird is good, right? I gave a quick explanation to Alphys so that she’d calm down a little after seeing the prince alive and well, but I’ll leave the rest of it to you and Asriel. Is Asriel there? Tell him I said hi.

“Sans says hi,” Frisk said.

Asriel waved at the letter. “Hi, Sans. No hard feelings.”

Anyway, if I know you half as well as I think I do, then I bet you’re feeling kind of weird yourself, huh? I mean, you won. Looks like you got everyone what they wanted. But even I’m still not totally sure we did the right thing. We toyed with a lot of people’s futures to get to this point, Frisk. Erased a lot of happy endings that could’ve been. You must be feeling awful torn up about that. And if you feel bad, I can only guess what Asriel’s going through. If you’re reading this little message when I think you are, then the two of you must be wondering how you can go on like this. How you can possibly make it up to everyone. So, hey, let me give you one last piece of advice.

Don’t worry about it.

Frisk blinked. He glanced to his side. Asriel was still reading intently. He looked back down at the letter.

Do you remember what I said at your first judgment? I mean, I don’t, but I’ve got the script lying around here somewhere. The more you distance yourself, the less you hurt. And the easier you can bring yourself to hurt others. I’m not saying that it’s good to feel awful. But I don’t think either of you have distanced yourselves all that much. Asriel might have, for a while, but there was some tricky stuff going on with him so I’m willing to let that slide.

You both know what it’s like to be hurt. I don’t think you’re in any hurry to make other people feel that way, no matter how easy it might be. In this skeleton’s opinion, that’s good enough for now. I told you about how bad memories can crowd out good ones, and if you just let your regrets weigh you down all the time that’s exactly what’ll happen. And that’d be a waste. I mean, you can’t regret hard choices your whole life, right?

Brace yourself for sappiness, kiddo: I’m proud of you. I think you’ll be able to do some pretty amazing things no matter what you try. Same goes for Asriel. But even if you just want to be ordinary for the rest of your lives, that’d be okay, too. Just continue to be yourselves. No one’ll blame you for it. No one’ll hate you for it. Heck, everyone’ll probably appreciate it. I’ve been checking out the underground during your nap. Everyone’s really stoked that you two are okay, and that’s no joke.

As for me, I’m gonna go traveling for a bit with Papyrus. Not that I could ever get enough of that adorable face of yours, but that whole business with the Doctor Gaster my big brother sorta made me want to spend more time with family. I’m actually excited, for once. And Papyrus is, you know, excited in general. Did I ever tell you about the time I replaced our toothpaste without telling him? He ran around all morning thinking Christmas had come early. Either way, I’ll be in touch with the Queen your m Toriel, so just ask her if you want to ring me up.

I’ll see you kids outside the mountain. Be good, okay? To yourselves and each other. That’s the best way you can atone for your (turn over)-

Frisk turned the paper over.

- shins.

That was the only word written on the other side – in the upper-left corner, in that same painfully tiny print. The rest of the sheet was taken up by a giant sketch of Sans’ winking face.

It was quite well-drawn.

The two of them stared in silence at that wink. Finally, Frisk spoke:

“I don’t get it.”

“I do and I hate it,” Asriel muttered.

Frisk looked up. “Then why are you smiling?”

“Am I?” He reached up to his face, felt the grin that had crept on there. Then, Frisk felt his own cheeks aching, just before Asriel said, “So are you.”

The gravity of Sans’ wink pulled their gazes back. The paper shook in Frisk’s hands as he bent over.

Their laughter started small, uncertain – the two of them were badly out of practice, after all. Awkward snorts and giggles as their lungs tried to remember how to let out the air. But then the sound built, and leapt, and before long the two of them were howling on the bed, their hands over their eyes; every time they looked at each other’s faces it set off another laughing fit. Their eyes watered. Their chests burned. Sans’ paper slipped out of Frisk’s grip and drifted merrily onto the carpet. Asriel’s bedroom door creaked a bit, as if someone on the other side had carefully leaned against it, and then creaked back. The two of them never noticed.

“Frisk,” Asriel gasped. “Frisk, we’ve gotta calm down. Mom’s going to think we’ve gone nuts.”

“I’m trying. I’m t-trying...” He tried to choke his voice back, glimpsed Sans winking at him from the carpet, and then started cackling again and rolled off the bed with his hands on his belly.

By the time their voices finally gave out, Asriel was spread-eagle on top of his comforter and Frisk sat on the ground with the letter clutched to his chest. Their breaths were deep, hesitant.

“Okay,” Asriel said. “I actually do kind of feel better now.”

“Sans does that to people. Ow, my face...” Frisk climbed back onto the bed, took out the envelope, replaced the letter. “I think I’ll hold onto this.”

Asriel’s smile dimmed a little. “Oh, that reminds me.”

He got down on the floor and reached under the bed. Frisk watched as he disappeared up to the ankles, the mattress bucking as he searched.

“I was gonna do this before I got all emotional.” He grunted and slid back out with a small box in his hands. It looked familiar. “Here.”

Frisk took the box from him and opened it. Inside was a small gold heart locket on a chain.

“Oh, I was wondering where this went. It’s yours, right?”

“Uh. Sort of.”

Frisk looked up at Asriel’s face. Asriel started to turn red. He looked back at the box. Then he felt heat rising in his own cheeks.

“Asriel, I-”

“I mean, you brought back Chara’s, and it’d be kind of silly for me to wear two of them, right? Haha.” He scritched at the carpet with his toe. “I sort of thought. I mean, it’d be only fair if.” He cleared his throat, and said quietly, “It’s yours. If you want it.”

Frisk took out the locket, felt how the chain snaked through his fingers. The gold heart lay cool on his palm.

“This really helped me out, the first time,” he said. “It made me feel safe.”

He put the necklace on, slipping the locket into his shirt.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.” He kept staring at the floor. “Don’t mention it.”

Frisk got up off the bed and headed for the door. “I guess we’d better go. You ready?”

“There was one other thing.”

He looked back and saw Asriel in that same sheepish position, steadily gouging a hole into the floor with his toe. His body was luminous with embarrassment.

“I was watching you a lot,” he said. “You know. As Flowey. I saw you hug it out with pretty much everyone you met. Of course, at the time I thought it was really pathetic, but, you know, that was then and this is now, and.” He started to fidget with the front of his shirt. “I mean, you kinda did it once already, but that was with Chara, so I didn’t...I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you-”

“Just get over here, Asriel.”

Asriel held that pose for a second, then turned and cannonballed into Frisk hard enough to nearly send him flying into the door. He still wasn’t very strong, but he clutched at Frisk so tight that his ribs groaned in protest; it was like being squeezed by a bony teddy bear. His claws dug into Frisk’s spine. Frisk put one palm on the small of Asriel's back, another on top of his head, pressing in him closer. They buried their faces in each other's shoulders. They felt their smiles on each other's skin. They stood like that in the middle of his room, Asriel’s stuffed animals watching silently.

“Ha ha.” Asriel’s grip relaxed a little. “I don’t want to let go.”

“We’ve got time," Frisk said. And then: “I’m going to do a lot of this today, aren’t I?”

“Ohh, you have no idea. Watch out for Dad, he doesn’t know his own strength.” Finally, he released Frisk and stepped away. “Maybe I can convince him to eat with us for a change.”

Frisk nodded, and turned, and opened the door. The hall outside was empty, but they both smelled pie crust at once. Toriel was nothing if not consistent.

Frisk said, “After you.”

The two of them stepped out of the bedroom, down the hall, past the living room where Toriel’s old reading chair had finally seen some use. That scent enveloped them – pie crust, butterscotch and cinnamon, the sweet lemons from the flowers nodding in their various jars, and underneath it all, a garlicky whiff of snails. Maybe not what people would normally think about when they thought of home, but enough for Frisk to be satisfied.

He watched Asriel step into the kitchen, where Toriel’s cookery clattered.

“Mom?” Asriel called. “He’s awake.”