“Howdy!”

That sounded different. True, Asriel had a similar vocabulary, yet his tone was always welcoming and light, innocent overall. Ever since coming to the surface, the goat had tried to distance himself from his posthumous persona, but the few and thought-to-be last times he said the salutation in the Underground had been ingrained in the human child’s head.

It was no doubt that Frisk, even as they were just waking up, noticed something off about this “Howdy!”. Menacing, sarcastic, and soulless were the words that rather popped into their head. As Frisk began to regain consciousness, feeling something at the end of their bed, they knew it wasn’t their brother. Not in his usual form.

“Did ya miss me?” Frisk heard as they slowly opened their eyes, the peeling sensation burning into their lids.

The tone of voice turned even clearer, so much that it confirmed Frisk’s feared suspicion that Asriel had somehow lost his half of their soul, therefore reverting to the fiendish flower he always should have been. At first, it showed a confused, somewhat worried face, but after blinking twice, along came his evil smile. Frisk finally absorbed the gravity of the feat, and shot their body upright, gasping sharply.

“There ya’are! Thought I lost ya, friend!” The flower sprouted up straight on Frisk’s bed, behind which the child could see their mirrored expression of shock.

“F-Flo...no, Asriel!...You didn’t,” they desperately mumbled, pleading to the flower with their desperate stare. “You couldn’t. How did you let-”

“Oh! Him?” the flower asked, in his caustic, sarcastic tone. “You mean the goatface? That coward who didn’t ever do anything useful?”

Frisk interrupted them by shaking their head frantically. “You’re the same person! You’re in there somewhere…Asriel please...”

“No no no, I think you misunderstand,” the fiend offered with a deceptively polite smile. “He’s gone!” He made a pop sound. “It’s me, Flowey! Your old friend! Besides...”

Flowey hopped closer to Frisk, the blankets their only protection. The child sat in blind fear as they saw their brother gone, and the old problem back again. All when things were starting to look okay. Was settling into a family and feeling loved too much to ask for?

“You don’t want him back , do you?” He paused with a cheerful laugh. “Nah, you don’t. I mean, why would you? Here, I’ll show you something.”

Out from Frisk’s bed came one of his vines, thorny and sharp, which they could feel scratching against their pajamas. Their vision flashed back to the time when they had to defeat Flowey. If it was one thing Frisk remembered, it was the abundance of vines, aimed to impale and destroy their one soul.

One of those vines, haunting as it was, stared at the nightstand to the right of Frisk’s bed, specifically the picture of them and Asriel, arms around each other on the cliff of Mt. Ebbot. It was the first and only picture they had taken together. It had come into the world just after they exited the underground and reached the surface. A memorable picture it was, but Frisk had always asked themselves how deceptively close it made them and Asriel seem. Perhaps, Frisk often thought, too close, despite living as adoptive siblings.

Frisk suddenly jumped back upon a burst of noise, shutting their eyes and involuntarily gasping air straight into their lungs. Upon slowly creaking them open, they saw the picture had been ravaged, leaving a hole in the wall behind it. The child blinked and, despite all the questions they always asked themselves about Asriel, felt the tears flowing. It had been the only memory of them.

And with that, Frisk was convinced that Asriel really had let go. Somehow.

“That goatface couldn’t do something like that! Come to think of it...” Flowey put on his “thinking” look, which consisted of a raised eyebrow and straightened petals. “...I don’t think anyone could do that, heh. But your ‘brother’ surely never had the courage.” He used his vines to make air quotes, piercing at each of the two syllables in “brother.” Each bend of the vines made Frisk’s heart skip a beat, and soon after came the feeling of guilt they were always expecting.

“Anyway, buddy. I'll say I have your attention now.” Flowey hopped closer, bending his face down to Frisk’s. “I'm honestly disappointed that despite my telling you twice , you fail to understand how this world works.” He leaned back, planting a mocking face and utilizing a voice with a higher frequency. “‘Oh, Mr. Flowey, but we’re on the surface now, so that doesn't apply, does it?’” Then he swooped back closer again. “That's a pathetic excuse and you know it.”

Frisk looked back at Flowey’s stare. Any sarcasm or playful tone was gone. It was replaced by an expression of brutal, honest anger. The child breathed in as silence filled the air, as if they were supposed to answer the flower with some sort of apology or beg for mercy.

The child felt a jab to the gut, and suddenly it was as if a rock had been smashed into their lungs. Breathing rapidly became difficult, and their eyelids felt heavier. The delay timer of the pain was over, and they were soon in agony, the tears exploding out of the eyes. The bordered off vision of the laughing flower was blurred with water, and as the ambience became that of muffled chaos, they heard a final message from the flower.

“It’s kill, or be killed.”

As everything finally faded to black, the pain subsiding and their life torched out of its misery, Frisk heard the flower’s trademark piece of mirth.

---

“Frisk!”

The child had to work to draw in their first breath. They slightly leaned upwards while their eyes opened, in a similar way to when Flowey was on the bed. The air brushed into Frisk’s lungs and whispered in their ears that it was only a nightmare, one backed by such horrifying history that it almost could have happened.

The human child finally opened their eyes and subsequently lunged forward into a sitting position. They found themselves panting, the fear clearly visible in their rapidly-blinking eyes. Frisk looked around frantically, seeing where the flower had gone to make his next attack, but they only saw their brother in his normal form. He was holding a face with a balance of fright and concern.

Relief washed over Frisk. They were finally able to exhale calmly, truly feeling the air exit their lungs and flow into the dark bedroom. Their heart found its periodic rhythm again. Upon turning to their brother, they smiled, thankful he had never morphed back into that horrible flower who would crush memories and dare not to make new ones. How could he be even slightly connected to that fiend?

“Hey,” Frisk mumbled groggily, offering a wave in attempt to assuage Asriel’s concerns.

“Frisk, are…are you okay?” He tried to return the wave, but it came off as more of a terrified gesture. Asriel was the same height and age as Frisk. He wore green pajamas with yellow stripes.

“I-I’m fine,” Frisk said, trying to convey through their smile that their brother need not to worry and should go back to sleep for the night. They were partially surprised, half-expecting themselves to jump out of the bed and run straight into Asriel, wrapping their arms around him. To Frisk, their own reservation seemed odd. Shouldn’t there be more affection? “Just a bad dream, is all.”

“F-Frisk…,” Asriel whispered as he stood and looked up at them, sitting up straight in the bed with the covers still over their knees. He placed his palm on the bed sheets. “You know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

“I know!” Frisk nodded hastily, giving a little more strength to widen the smile. They did not want Asriel to be kept up at night, so they tried their best to assure him they would be alright.

But the child knew they wouldn’t be, rattled not just by the nightmare, but by the questions it had reminded them of. The best way would be honesty - pouring out every detail and concern and throwing it onto Asriel’s chest. It would worry more than calm, yes, but perhaps it was for the greater good.

“It’s just that…” Frisk sighed, pushing to the side of the bed so that they sat up, their legs just dripping in front of Asriel. Before continuing, they looked into Asriel’s own stare. Maybe it really was the face of a caring brother, who would never want their adoptive sibling to hide anything.

“I know this might sound really weird because...let’s be honest, Asriel. I don’t know you all that well, especially you. I knew Mom and Dad a little, but had only heard ancient stories about their son. I didn’t even think I’d see you in this form for a moment . We only really met when you got your body back and broke the barrier, but all of a sudden you can live on and we’re living together and it just feels really….hard for me to believe. It’s even weirder because for some reason…” Frisk felt a tear prickling in their eye, and, for some reason, did not mind Asriel seeing them. They were not teenagers, but not toddlers, either. Then again, Asriel was always a crybaby. “...for some reason I worry about you a little more each day and I actually care about you a lot. But other times I just think I’m Chara’s replacement.”

“Replacement?” Asriel asked. He bore a voice Frisk heard as monotone, and a face they saw as one of disbelief and slight annoyance.

“I mean…”

But the hesitation forced Frisk to pause again. There really was no way to spin this, no way to make it sound optimistic or loyal. Honesty came with a large cost. “I don’t mean it like that , but sometimes I just feel like I don’t belong-”

Frisk stopped when Asriel shook his head. “N-no.” He suddenly put his two hands on their shoulders and looked at them resolutely. “I-I care about you just as much as I did about Chara.”

Frisk raised their eyebrows. In truth, the child had expected their adoptive brother to respond with some comforting line, but did not anticipate a sincere one. Nor did the thought of Asriel caring for Frisk as much as his first adoptive sibling cross Frisk’s mind.

“Maybe even more,” Asriel finished, shakily inhaling as he frowned sincerely.

“You’re just saying that.” Frisk sighed again, remembering everything they knew about Chara, the first human who fell into the Underground. Yet another reason why some humans on the surface hated monsters. The sole reason for Asriel’s suffering.

Asriel had been born to Toriel and Asgore Dreemurr, the King and Queen of the Underground. His parents had assumed their titles after they and the monsters were banished there from the surface. It was a unanimous decision, Toriel had once told Frisk.

Asriel was their only child by birth, but one day, a human by the name of Chara fell down a hole and landed on a bed of flowers in the Underground. Coincidentally, Asriel was taking a casual stroll, and just so happened to notice the human landing with a crash. Innocent and caring, he couldn’t help but run to their side, ask if they were okay, and introduce himself. Following the pleasantries, Asriel, understanding that Chara had fallen from the surface, led them to his home. It was difficult to describe how the mutual decision to adopt Chara came about, yet perhaps it was from the collective sympathy and loyalty carried out by the Dreemurrs. Chara was only a child. They hadn’t known anything about adoption, let alone family. As they grew up in the Dreemurr house, however, they eventually learned that they had been adopted by Toriel and Asgore, and that Asriel was their adoptive brother. No matter, however. They had acted like siblings ever since they set eyes on one another.

It was all fun and games, and even though Chara had no way of returning back home, they and Asriel, having the same exact wardrobe, spent the time of their lives together. Every living and breathing moment, minute after minute, it would be jokes, comfort if needed, and overall, loyalty.

It seemed like they were destined to be siblings and not only live in, but enjoy the Underground. Things took a turn for the worse, however, when Chara suddenly, whether intentionally or not, poisoned themselves. Dying, they told Asriel they wanted to perish on the surface, and begged him to somehow put their body on a bed in an old farm. It seemed impossible, but there was one way. Despite all the risk it carried, to Asriel it was a way he was determined to take. He’d do anything for his sibling.

That determination led Asriel to his death. He ended up fusing his soul with Chara’s in order to breach into the surface, but he was immediately attacked by humans. They claimed that, since he was holding Chara’s limp body, he had killed the child. He eventually found his way back Underground, having lost the body of Chara and been wounded by the venom of the mobs’ pitchforks and weapons. He died upon landing where Chara fell the day they met. His dust (for monsters turn to dust upon death) spread across an array of flowers at the entrance to the ruins. With an experimental injection of Determination into the first flower that sprouted there, Flowey was born. The debacle was complete.

“Frisk...I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Not...like this.”

“So what?” Frisk blurted. It sounded accusatory, but Frisk meant no harm. It was a blurt of frustration, knowing that something was wrong with themselves. “I still feel like…,” they couldn’t continue. The dam suddenly broke, and the tears flooded onto their cheeks. “...like I don’t even know you.” They covered one of their eyes with a palm. The rest of their breath was quickly converted into quiet sobs, thoughtful enough not to wake up Toriel in the neighboring.

Seeing these tears flow, Asriel’s own eyes became watery. He quickly wrapped Frisk into a hug. He tightly put his arms around the human, and Frisk could feel he was sobbing over their shoulder as well. They slowly reciprocated and shut their eyes, the tears showing no mercy. It was a shock to Frisk, yet it did, in a sense, convey to them that Asriel must have felt something more for them. A speck of hope that it all could fall into place one day.

“O-of c-course you do…,” Asriel mustered up through his uncontrollable sobbing. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true...” Frisk gasped. They clenched their hands into fists, leaning their head more firmly over their brother’s shoulder. “You...you were a flower...for so long…I’ve barely known you.”

“Not true,” Asriel said after a brief inhale.

“Don’t lie. You didn’t have a soul. You couldn’t feel compassion or love.”

“Maybe so…” Asriel mumbled. He slowly pulled away from Frisk, keeping his palms on their shoulders as their hands returned to their sides. “...but when I finally could, I still had...well, his ...memories, so I could remember meeting you even as a flower. And when I could finally feel again for the first time in a while I was able to appreciate everything you’d done for the monsters. Giving Sans hope again, Papyrus a chance to be the royal guard, Alphys some confidence and security, Undyne her happiness and peaceful mind, Dad a feeling of remorse for his weakness, and Mom an urge to reconnect with everyone outside of home...and then…” he paused for breath. The child had done a lot of things. Quite difficult to put in one list.

Asriel pointed to Frisk’s chest, and then put his palm on his own, pulling out the half-soul Frisk gave him to maintain his body. “...and then you gave me my life back. I would have turned into a flower again. You d-didn’t have to do that, Frisk.” He sniffed, placing it back and managing a smile through his tears and residual sobbing. “You knew it was a huge risk but you did it anyway. That’s…” he paused for a moment, thinking as the silence briefly filled the air until he broke it again. “...that’s how I treated Chara. I would do the same for you.”

By the time Asriel finished his speech, Frisk had begun quietly sobbing again, assuming the similar position of leaning over his shoulder and wrapping their arms around him. Asriel had hugged them back upon completing his proof that their history had gone further back than Frisk had thought.

“We’re family, Frisk,” he said softly. “You’re as much of a Dreemurr as I am.”

“Do you…” Frisk pulled away, their eyes having adjusted to the sheer darkness of the room. “Do you really mean that, Asriel?.”

Now Asriel chuckled, clearly from happiness that Frisk understood, but the human speculated it was also a form of mockery, as if it were ridiculous to ask.

“Not gonna answer that,” he said, smiling. Then he pulled Frisk back into a hug, and to them it wasn’t sorrowful anymore. It was a hug of relief, affection, and they gladly accepted it, accepted everything Asriel had told them, and felt all the better. “And I told you, we monsters are weird. Familiarity isn’t really a requirement for us to feel love. Not saying that’s the case.”

Slowly, everything they had been worried about seemed like some distant memory locked away in a delusional timeframe. They had said it themselves in their dream: Flowey and Asriel were, in a way, the same. They leaned the side of their head over Asriel’s shoulder, eyeing the photograph that had never been destroyed. It had so much more meaning now.

“Please don’t go, Asriel...”

“I’m here.”

“Don’t let go…”

“I won’t.” He gently stroked his hand across Frisk’s back. “Now, what did you dream about?”

“That...” Frisk embraced Asriel slightly more firmly, reminding themselves that he had never reverted. “That you were him again.”

“H...him?” Asriel stuttered. “You mean Flowey?”

“Yeah,” Frisk affirmed, feeling the tears falling out of their eyes again. Despite their tight grip on their brother, they couldn’t help but think there were vines around them, rather than actual hands. “I’m...s-so worried, Asriel. Please don’t.”

“It was just a bad dream, Frisk.”

“It’s just so scary to think that he’s half a soul away.”

“Half a human soul away.” Asriel was right. Human souls were much more durable and powerful than monster souls.

“But don’t you also worry about it?”

“I mean...sometimes.”

What a perfect time for another thought to cross Frisk’s mind. It was for the worse, they could confirm. “And then....when you do die...you won’t even be at peace. You’ll just turn back into him.”

“Why are you thinking about that?”

“What if…” Frisk blinked again to squeeze out a tear, and their lip shook again. “What if someone kills you?”

“And why would that happen? I mean, sure, there are a lot of Floweys out there, but nobody’s that xenophobic.

“But everybody dies eventually.”

“Cross that bridge when we get to it. That’s a long time from now.”

“Asriel…”

“Frisk! Stop. Worrying .” Asriel tightened his embrace. “Who destroyed the barrier?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, you know the answer. Tell me who broke the barrier and freed all the monsters from the Underground.”

Did the goat want credit? Frisk stayed there, deeply confused and nearly overtaken by the atmosphere. “You.”

“Did the flower break the barrier?”

“No.”

“Could Flowey break the barrier?”

“No.” Now it was clear. Frisk giggled as they answered.

Asriel pulled away suddenly, revealing to Frisk a wide smile that warmed their heart. “Exactly. So I’m not going to let that happen, and I know you’ll be there if I need help.”

He rose an eyebrow, as if he knew the answer but wanted Frisk to respond, anyway. They promptly wiped away the last of their tears, Asriel’s hands resting on their shoulders, nodded firmly and said, “Yes. Yes I will. You’re my brother.”

The answer caused tears to prickle in Asriel’s eyes, but his smile only become wider. “You’re getting the hang of this already!”