Chapter Text
Frisk
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Once again, they found themselves surrounded by a cold, dark emptiness. Wind howled from everywhere, and nowhere at all. You’d think that after so many of these routes that it would not be so unsettling anymore, but no matter how many times Frisk ended up in this place, they were never any less chilled by it. And once again, they appeared. Exactly how Chara managed to take physical form was still beyond comprehension.
“Chara. The demon that comes when people call its name,” they announced ( again ). Frisk, having heard this entire spiel many times already, rolled their eyes.
“Yeah, whatever, let's just cut to the point,” said Frisk, hoping not to waste any more time. The fallen child simply tilted their head, their smile growing wider.
“Impatient, are we not? What do you expect to find here?” Frisk scowled at Chara’s amused tone of voice. As if you don’t know what I want from you. Reading their expression, Chara laughed, dismissing them with a wave of their hand.
“You believe that you can escape the consequences of your actions by repeating the same actions, over and over? Do you really think that this is an adequate way to atone?”
“I already have, you’re the one who keeps ruining our happy ending,” Frisk growled, now completely out of patience. “I think you just don’t want to accept that.” Chara frowned at this statement, their previously amused mood gone.
“Do you not hear the hypocrisy of your words?” they asked, reproach in their voice. “Do you think that behaving in this manner will help you?”
“Yeah, I don’t think your behavior is helping either,” responded Frisk.
“You still think that you can escape the consequences of your actions?” they questioned, seemingly out of patience as well.
“We already established that I am above consequences didn’t we?” Frisk quipped, their tone sardonic.
“YOU CANNOT RUN FROM YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOREVER.” Their voice and face became distorted as they destroyed the world once again.
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Not even going to ask first, huh? thought Frisk upon regaining consciousness. They looked down to the familiar patch of golden flowers and around the cave that surrounded them. At least I don’t have to ask them to restore the world again, they thought. They sat up, taking in the comforting light of the sun’s rays that filtered in through the hole. Frisk took a deep breath, and took a moment to relax after the unpleasant memory of their last run.
They wondered what they were going to do next, and realized that ultimately, Chara was right. Doing the same thing over and over was definitely not going to change anything; Chara would not relent that way. What could they do then? Getting everyone to the surface was off the table, and Frisk refused to just leave everyone in the Underground in a neutral route. To be frank, Frisk had zero interest whatsoever in returning to the surface without the monsters who were like family to them. The only solution that they could think of was to simply live in the underground forever. They got very close to this option before Flowey interfered, so all they really had to do was not encounter Asgore. They could iron out the details of this plan later.
Frisk stood up and dusted themself off. They knew that there was no guarantee that Chara would not take control anyway, but it was worth a shot. They decided not to think about the ways this could go wrong; after all, they never have accomplished anything by worrying. Determined to try, Frisk made their way through the first door. As usual, the flower with his deceitful smile greeted them.
“Howdy! I’m Flowey! Flowey the-”, Flowey did not get to finish his sentence before Frisk casually sidestepped around him.
“Hey!” exclaimed the now insulted flower. ”I’m talking to you!” Flowey reappeared in front of Frisk before they entered the next door.
“That was very rude of you! Someone ought to-” but Frisk was already through the door.
“Seriously!?”
Frisk dodged the ‘friendliness pellets’ without even looking behind them.
Their mood was lifted when they saw their surrogate mother figure at the top of the stairs, surprise written on her face. Toriel hastily made her way down the stairs of the Ruins.
“Oh! You have fallen down, correct?” she smiled warmly at Frisk. “Do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. You are the first human to come here in a long time. Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.” She walked back up the stairs and motioned for Frisk to follow her.
“This way.” she said.
Frisk stopped at their savepoint for a moment before following the boss monster up the stairs. They continued following Toriel, not paying attention to her words any longer. They followed the same motions as usual, press a switch here, talk to a dummy there, absentmindedly walk into a wall and give Toriel a heart attack. They noticed that Chara had not said anything at all to them for a while. Were they in a bad mood?
“Chara, you still there?”, they asked, waiting for a response. They didn’t notice that they had said it loud enough for Toriel to hear, and thus nearly walked right into her when she froze.
“...My child?”, she spoke, stiffening. “Where have you heard that name?”
“Hmm? What name?”, they asked, playing dumb and hoping Toriel bought it. She paused for a moment before smiling again.
“My apologies, I must have misheard you. Did you need anything?” Frisk shook their head, glad to have dodged an unpleasant conversation. Frisk has never told anyone about Chara before, nor did they ever plan to. Their thoughts returned to said subject’s uncharacteristic silence. They supposed they should be glad Chara is not pestering them, deciding not to pursue it any further.
After Toriel left them in the long hallway, they continued as usual. They walked through the familiar purple hues of the Ruins reminiscing about their first couple of runs. On their first ever run they had stayed in the hallway for a while, waiting for Toriel to return before they realized that they should go find her themself. They hadn’t even known who the mysterious disembodied voice that followed them around was for a very long time. Frisk remembered when things were less complicated, and the most they had to worry about was their own life. Ironically, dying now seems inconsequential to the fate of all monsters that was now on Frisk’s shoulders. They hadn’t known that they could never die back then anyway. They hadn’t even known that they could fix their mistakes back then, and Frisk struggled to remember just how they survived the guilt of having killed Toriel their first run. On that topic, their first genocide run had been just a bit of curiosity. Back then they wondered what would happen if they fulfilled the prophecy in a different way. They hadn’t realized that this would change everything.
In their deep thought, they were not paying attention and tripped over the nearest object into a pile of scarlet-red leaves. Unfortunately for them, this was when Chara decided to resume their narration.
In your oblivious trance, you trip over a Froggit in a most inelegant manner. Frisk grimaced and shuffled around on the leaves, annoyed by Chara’s sudden inexplicable mood shift.
“Well aren’t you suddenly in a good mood.”, they muttered, rising to their feet.
You really should pay attention to your surroundings, Chara mused, taking the opportunity to lecture their partner. Frisk decided not to grace that statement with a response, brushing off a couple of the leaves from themself and moving on to the next room. They brushed their fingers against the violet bricks in an attempt to keep themself grounded. This of course, didn’t work, and Frisk managed to fall into every hole and walk into four more walls before even reaching the next savepoint.
Congratulations! You have set a new record for least attentive, narrated Chara, after Frisk walked into the fifth wall that day.
Would you like me to take over for a moment? They offered. Alarm bells rung in Frisk’s mind at this proposition; they knew that if they let Chara take over, various things could go wrong.
“Hell no! Why would I trust you?!” they exclaimed.
You are aware that I have the ability to take control at any time. If I wanted to do something nefarious, I would have already done so, Chara retorted. Frisk was unable to poke any holes in that logic, and besides, they had never known Chara to lie to them.
“Fine, but you’d better not mess up this pacifist run!” they yielded reluctantly. As soon as Frisk finished their sentence, Chara began moving immediately. They brushed off a couple more leaves from themself and somewhat unnecessarily straightened their hair. Despite having experienced this before, Frisk still felt it terribly strange to have their body move on its own. They had been incredibly scared and confused when it first happened. Frisk could technically fight Chara’s control if they wanted, but that never worked when Chara used their leverage over Frisk’s soul.
They observed Chara make their way through the rest of the Ruins without a hitch. An outside observer who knew Frisk would be able to easily tell the difference between when Frisk is themself, and when they are Chara. Their posture was too perfect and their demeanor too formal to be Frisk. Chara carried themself with considerably more poise than typically expected of a child. It was almost difficult to believe that this was the same person who just got past Napstablook with terrible ghost puns.
It took Chara around half the time it took Frisk to make it through the rest of the Ruins. Frisk stopped them just before they reached Toriel’s house.
Hey, don’t take over completely! Frisk asserted, slightly worried that they might not get control of their body back.
“You are so paranoid,” spoke Chara with Frisk’s voice. “Do you not trust me?”
“Not even going to answer that.”, Frisk said, now having control again. They walked up to the tree in front of the house and soon realized that they were quite early. Toriel did not show up to greet them, but they entered the house anyway, assuming that she was still in the process of baking. Their assumption was confirmed when they were met with the nostalgically wonderful scent of butterscotch cinnamon pie in progress. Frisk walked to the kitchen to notify Toriel of their arrival. When she spotted them, she quickly set the still unfinished pie down and rushed over to Frisk, concern in her eyes.
“How did you get here my child?” she asked, kneeling down to Frisk’s level. “Are you hurt?” She examined their health. “Not a scratch… Impressive! But still, I should not have left you alone for so long. It was irresponsible of me to try to surprise you like this.” Toriel glanced at the pie that she had been baking.
“Err… well I suppose I cannot hide it any longer. It is not finished yet, but it will be a butterscotch cinnamon pie! I thought we might celebrate your arrival. I want you to have a nice time living here, so I will hold off on snail pie for tonight.”
She stood up and offered her hand.
“Come! I have another surprise for you.” Toriel led Frisk to the other side of the house, stopping in front of a door. “Here! A room of your own. I hope you like it.” She gently patted Frisk’s head with a loving smile. Frisk offered her a smile of their own as a response, happy to be home again.
“I will now resume baking the pie, and it may take a while longer. If you are tired, you may take a nap. Make yourself at home!”
After Toriel left the hallway, Frisk entered their room and made a beeline for the bed. They flopped right down, not even bothering to turn off the lights. Frisk closed their eyes and as soon as they thought they had some peace and quiet-
There is no possible way that you are tired. This run has only just now begun, Chara scolded, seemingly frustrated with Frisk’s slow pace.
“I’m just waiting for the pie…” they muttered, burying their face in the pillow.
You know that we don’t need that, there are plenty of foods that heal over 20 HP. Or are we going to have more HP than that? You have accomplished nothing new yet, nor have you disclosed the intent of this run with me.
“Impatient, are we not?” they responded, turning Chara’s previous words against them. “Since when was I ever obligated to tell you anything?”
If you want me to help you-
“Nope! I don’t have to tell you anything, now leave me alone”, interrupted Frisk. Despite not sharing thoughts with Chara, they could practically feel Chara’s frustration at this. To their surprise, Chara didn’t make a retort, and Frisk was left to their own devices. They wondered to themself if they were being too harsh to Chara, before reminding themself of when Chara took over their body at the end of every pacifist run after the first genocide. Which they still refuse to stop doing or at least explain their actions other than the typical ‘consequences’ speech. Seriously, what point are they even making? Don’t they know what resets are for??
Well, Frisk decided that they were going to be angry at Chara for as long as they kept being a jerk. They continued their quest for a restful sleep, calming their thoughts and drifting away.
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Frisk was relaxing on the couch by the fireplace when they were greeted with Toriel’s newest pie.
“Hello again my child!” she greeted warmly. Toriel handed them a wonderfully smelling butterscotch pie, which they accepted gratefully.
“Thanks mom!”, they responded, digging in immediately. To their disappointment, it didn’t really taste like anything, but they figured that was to be expected. Toriel had taken a seat on her armchair with her favorite book, “72 uses for snails.”
After Frisk finished their pie, they returned to their room. Before this, they examined their reflection in the mirror. Their red eyes and rosy cheeks greeted them, and they were wearing a green and yellow striped shirt. Something about their reflection struck them as odd, but they didn’t think too hard about it. Frisk entered their room to greet Asriel.
“Hey, I’m going bug-hunting with mom soon, wanna come?” they asked.
“Sure, I’ll come with you! He responded. Frisk noticed the magenta and blue striped shirt he was wearing and realized what was different.
“Oh! We’re wearing each other’s shirts!”, they laughed.
“Huh? This is Frisk’s shirt.” Asriel responded. “Are you okay, Chara?”
“What? But-” Frisk looked down at themself again. Panic slowly began to build as they remembered. They ran out of the room in a panic.
They sprinted to the mirror, only to bump into Toriel.
“Y… you… really hate me that much?”
She was already turning into dust.
Frisk reached out to her quickly dissolving form.
She died the second they drew near.
Frisk dropped to their knees in despair.
They stared at the dust coating their fingers as tears welled up in their eyes.
This was all their fault.
This was all their fault.
This was all their fault.
This was all-
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Frisk!
They awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly. The events of the dream were still fresh in their mind, as well as the memories that resurfaced. The weight of their prior actions never really kicked in until after the subsequent run, and now it was finally caught up to them. Their breathing grew labored as Toriel’s death replayed over and over in their mind. They remembered the utterly betrayed pain in her eyes when she was struck, her humorless, bitter laugh as she began to turn to dust. A wave of nausea overcame them, and tears pricked at their eyes as everything hit them at once.
Frisk, listen to me, Chara began. You are not on a genocide route, Toriel is alive and well- they faltered as Frisk began to cry even harder. They rubbed at their eyes in futile attempts to stop their tears.
You are such a mess… they said, insult invalidated by their soft tone. Frisk did not resist as Chara took control again, exiting their room and making their way to the living room. They distantly questioned Chara’s behavior, but didn’t have the strength to think about it too deeply.
Toriel looked up from her book and upon noticing the tears on their face, became worried.
“What is wrong, my child? Did you have a bad dream?”
Frisk nodded, walking over to sit in Toriel’s lap.
“There, there, everything is alright now,” she comforted, enveloping Frisk in a hug. “Do you wish to talk about it?” she inquired. Frisk shook their head, leaning further into Toriel’s embrace.
“Well then, would you like to hear about the book I am reading? It is called ‘72 uses for Snails’”. At Frisk’s subsequent nod, she began reading the book aloud. A weak smile grew upon Frisk’s face at the familiarly silly snail facts. They listened to the sound of Toriel’s voice and the crackle of the fireplace.
They felt like they could stay there forever.