Undertale: Permadeath by Blackmist-Squamata

Undertale: Permadeath

Blackmist-Squamata, age difference, aged up, angst, asgore, asgore dreemurr, asriel, asriel dreemurr, body horror, canon divergence, deltarune, divorce, father and son, father son, first love, first time, gay, gay incest, goat, horror, incest, male, rule34, undertale, virginity

Summary:

Set in an Alternate Universe in the Post-Pacifist Arc, Asriel Dreemurr is reborn into a new body as an adult because of circumstances he nor the others understand. Coping with being alive, Asriel wrestles with the guilt, and pain, of all the lives that he had lived, and the lives that Flowey destroyed. Desperate to move on and experience life and adulthood, Asriel Dreemurr buries his past.

As he tries to define what his new life is, and what the future holds, Asriel unexpectedly begins to develop taboo and forbidden feelings for his father. How does he handle it? Does he give into something so forbidden that it could destroy the very bedrock of his new world?

Exactly One Month Prior: October 30th.

Time: Unknown, near or exactly at midnight.

Level: On Mt. Ebott.

Characters: Goat. Human 1. Human 2. Human 3. Unknown Entity.

“Come on! Hold it still!” A voice commanded from a hooded figure.

“I got it! Just get started! Hey! HEY! Fucking—chill! Shit”

The air echoed with the incessant squealing as the goat struggled in place. They had tried to tie his mouth shut, but he still kept yelling. It was unnerving. It sounded so much like an actual child, and they hated it. Not because of the similarity, but because it was fucking up the vibe.

“God, why that thing is yelling so much?

“I don’t know but Im ready to kill this fucking thing.”

The goat struggled, breathing rapidly as the hooded women prepared for the ritual. They had assembled their tools, and drew the circle; but now, it was time to get serious. Each one of them added a drop of their blood to a parchment which had already been blessed. The incantation was written, the candles were being set, while Brit-Brit walked the circle counter clock-wise, setting each offering down. The skull of a baby lamb north. It’s heart south. Graveyard dirt placed to the east. And to the west purified water from a stream that ran beside the same graveyard as the dirty.

This took them months to get their hands on. There were a group of amateur witches and they had taken time off for this ritual. So much time, and money, and arguing went into it. They really needed this to work to deal with a separate coven of bitches who they did not like.

“Rochelle, you ready?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Nancy. Let’s get this show on the road. You girls ready? Nell? Brit-Brit?”

“I’m ready.”

“Light the candles.” Nancy commanded.

Her voice was smooth, and commanding. She was more than ready for this. The wind blew immediately, which to them, was a sign! They giggled excitedly, but centered their focus while the goat was more still but anxious. They began the chant; channeling all their love, and admiration, and appreciation for the beings that they sought to bring to earth.

To bring their souls to the mortal plane from their slumber.

“Vobis invoco, vires naturae obscurae. Rex ex Regina, Mortis et Noctis. . .”

“Whoa.” Brit-Brit whispered, looking around at the trees, “The wind!”

“Oh, they’re ready.” Rochell grinned, glancing at the girls, “I can feel it! Come on!”

Even Nell paused, admiring how, already, the energy was high in the air. She continued, chanting the old Latin to invoke the entities of Maradel, and Shamaziel! Ancient, powerful demons who governed the opposite of light, and the opposite of life. Not to bring destruction, but to control it; to be reborn through it, and be beyond the mortal coil.

“Benedicite nos praesentia vestra!”

SNAP!

The breaking of a tree branch made the three flinches; but Nell did not stop. Rochelle and Brit-Brit joined, echoing each line after Nell. Their voices were quiet at first, but grew. And as the volume increased, so did the energy; the air felt brighter! Even the blood on the parchment felt brighter; it was not like in the movies, not at first. The blood was so bright in the night; and the goat’s fur was even brighter!

CRACK!

Lighting struck and more branches broke. The girls laughed fanatically, feeling the energy in the air like a euphoric adrenaline rush! It was in their chest, in their hands; it was in them, coming from them, and going into them.

“Those bitches are soooo fucked when we’re done, tonight.” Nell chuckled darkly, continuing, as she belted out the words. “Sanguinem huius bestiae vobis offerimus! Benedicite hoc ritum!”

“Baaaaaaaaaah!” The goat screamed, wrestling under the duct-tape, kicking his hooves to try and unbind him-self, “Baaah! BAAAAAH!”

“It’ll be over soon.” Rochelle whispered, petting the goat with deceptive kindness. She then grasped it firmly, turning its eyes to her, “If you shut UP, we’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

CRACK!

BOOM!

Thunder echoed and the wind was becoming torrential. The candles lost their lights and the girls stayed in on their knees, still holding their arms up in prayer! It felt like a storm had consumed, or surrounded them! The air was, heavy, electric, and booming!

“Et utere eius sanguine et essentia ad ascendendum! Ad renascendum!” Nell roared! Her voice was emboldened by the energy running through her, and she held the knife high towards the moon, “Ad renascendum!”

“Baaaaaaa-aaaaaah!” The goat cried out, slamming its face around helplessly.

Its body began to glow more; slowly a bright, white, scintillating aura like shimmering liquid crystal wisped from its silhouette. Like a dim candle being lit, it flickered, but then grew, and grew, until it illuminated the surrounding area! The offering was ready; its pure blood and soul would be offered, and from it, The God of Death would become! Then they would bring their wife when they sacrificed Brit-Brit, who was none the wiser.

“All together, girls!” Nell shouted, “Do it!”

“ Gloria tibi! ”

“ Laus tibi! ”

“ Ave! Ave! Ave! ”

Suddenly the wind stopped. The girls looked around; feeling the sudden stillness. It was heavy; the energy was suffocating, and Nell snapped her eyes to the goat.

“Now. We have to do it now!”

She rushed forwards with the other two girls, holding her knife up and declared their love for the King and Queen of Night and Death! They fought to keep the goat still, who thrashed, screamed, cried, and fought! But then the knife was plunged inside; it was tougher than she expected. She had to hold it with both hands and tried to plunge again, but the goat moved and she missed.

“Shit! Hold—that—fuck! Hold him still, Rochelle!” Nell screamed, “FUCK”

“I am! Fuck! Kill him! Brit, help me out!”

“Hang on! I got blood on my hands! He’s slippery!”

Nell brought the knife down again into the goat’s abdomen and it screamed out hard. Its feet went up, slamming its hooves into Nell’s face. She shouted and fell back, grappling at his feet. The goat’s thrashing continued, and Nell brought her knife down again, but missed!

“SHIT!”

“Fuck! Nell, get it together!”

“SHUT. UP!” Nell shouted, slicing her knife in the air, her hair blown in front of her eyes, “Just get hold that fucking thing down!”

The girls wrestled with the white goat, but it was due to the amateur nature of their binds that he was miraculously able to slip one leg free! He was stronger than they expected, but they could not tranquilize him. He had to be pure; a virgin male goat with no blemishes on his body; they fed him the remains of his mother, and his father, after buying the entire family. The goat also had to be born during the waning-crescent phase or on the full-moon. The farmer, who knew no better, was easily swayed by the charming girls. They had spent months, and thousands of dollars traveling to find this bucking thing.

“Grab him! GET HIM! Oh shit!” Nell panicked, rushing up but tripped over her robes, falling face first to the dirt. “Dammit! We can’t mess this up!”

Brit-Brit, and Rochelle launched to their feet and ran. The Goat was so fast! Even wounded; there was no way he could run this fast! Brit-Brit shouted as she, feeling her skin get slapped with branches and vines!

“Where is that fucker?!” Brit-Brit shouted.

“Shit! I don’t know! You see him?”

“Yeah! Totally! That’s why I asked where he is?”

“Um?” Rochelle stopped mid-step, blinking, “Ok bitch first of all fuck you? You’re the one who tied him!”

“Ok. Rochell? Like literally?”

“Yes, like literally.”

“OK!” Brit-Brit clapped her hands together, “First of all, bitch, you don’t talk to me like that. I outrank you.”

“Uuuuuh. Ok. You aint shit, first of all. . .”

As the girls became distracted, the goat ran. It had no idea where it was going and its simple mind could barely comprehend the pain, or situation that it was in. It just simply ran until it was running out of strength. Periodically stopping to breathe, and look for threats, before it continued. Eventually the goat had made its way into a cavern, where it became lost. It was a sense of closure that it needed; instinctively it knew it could not be out in the opening, available to predators. So, it moved deeper, and deeper.

The poor thing never stood a chance as it continued its nervous, wounded trek through the cave. The animal knew it was going to die soon, and was trying to find a place to hide from predators so it could expire. But something caught its hoof.

“Baaaaah!”

He panicked. His instincts told him that it was a snake, and he jerked away.

Then he was weightless. It understood not being on the ground and this was danger. But it fell for a long time; then, it stopped falling.

* * *

Present Date.

Time: Unknown, estimated Early Morning.

Level: The Underground – Ruins

Character: Asriel Dreemurr.

“This world. The way it ended sickens me. . .”

. . .

“King Dad is sick because us. . . “

“Heh. He’ll be ok, Azzy.”

“But. . .”

. . .

“Kill them! Kill THEM! They’re trying to KILL YOU!”

“KILL THEM! Asriel! DO IT !”

“I don’t want too! Chara I-I want to go home! Mom!”

“ASRIEL!”

“Please stop! I-I just want to go home!”

. . .

“Papyrus you IDIOT!”

. . .

“Forget about me—just take care of mom and dad.”

. . .

“Mom. . . Dad. . . I miss you. I want to come ho. . .”

“Ho. . .ha. . . HaAAgh - AAAAaaAAaGH!”

He gasped, inhaling sharply, stunned. Something happened. Bad Dreams? Since when did he ever dream? He groaned, complaining, and exhaled sharpy, feeling his chest thumping. It was really dark for some reason. He sighed with an annoyed groan. Feeling dizzy, he tried to move, but he was really heavy; was he drunk?

He exhaled.

Wait. I am—breathing? That is weird.

He felt something against his face, and when he tried to look around, he found it hard to move. Asriel gasped, but choked on earth. Why did it really feel like he was breathing? What was happening?! It was dark. Very dark. And cold. It smelled bad; why did it smell so bad? He felt a pressure on his chest, and tried to open his eyes, but they stung immediately!

“What— blech! What—mffagh! Blagh! EEEACHL—AACKLEAH!”

He struggled and felt cold, and heavy, like weight was pressing against him! He began to thrash, feeling his petals moving, and his body shifting around. Did something roll on top of him? Did he get buried? Did something from the cavern ceiling crash on top of him. There was panic, and dirt, and the smell of earth. He thrashed and shifted his body around; his chest hurt. His chest? His stem. His body. His leaves, and roots all shifted and moved around.

“What is going on?!” He shouted! His voice was muffled and buried beneath the dirty, and he choaked as it slipped into his mouth, and throat.

It was just a bad dream, right? It had to be. He could not believe he might actually be buried alive or something sinister! He had been good! He promised he would not do anything else. But dirt clung to his mouth, and to his lungs. He could barely even open his eyes. He just inhaled roots, dirty, and stink.

He tried to reset. He was willing it! He was FORCING it and something was defying him! What could be that strong? He hadn’t done this since everything with Frisk—was it them?! He felt enraged! There was no white flash. No visualization of the world being reborn, or reset back to that specific day. He said he would not do it again, and just went to sleep. It was the best option.

And now he was buried alive?! Were they out of their minds?!”

He pushed his leaves and petals forwards, pushing, thrashing and digging until he heard the satisfying tearing of roots and the crumbling of dirt!

“ Huuuuuuuuuuaaaah! Wha—pffft! Shit! Hello!?” He belted, hearing his voice echo around him. It was quiet, and there was no response. He waited, expecting someone to be nearby. But no one came.

He shifted upwards, feeling dirt tumbling off of him. Then he reached to brush his face, and his petals felt weird; they were split into pieces! He shook around until he successfully got the dirty away, and upon opening his eyes, jolted backwards!

“A h-hand?! I—I have hands?!”

He wobbled as he looked around at the cold stone and glowing flowers: he could barely see just beyond his face. Why? He was used to the dark.

He tried to move upwards but stumbled, collapsing with a frustrated growl. He dropped his forehead to the cool earth, breathing slowly, trembling for a few moments. Everything was hot. And cold. Burning, and energized! But he felt so weak. He gripped the ground with his weak muscles, and dragged him-self to a flock of the Echo flowers, using their luminescence to see his hands.

He could see his fingers in the dark. White, dirty, fluffy fingers with a shimmering white outline.

“A—A SOUL?! ARE YOU—! No. No. HOW?!” He hyperventilated, watching his fingers curl as his hands trembled. “Ok! Ok, i-it’s just a dream! I—I can’t be alive! Not really!?”

With a groan, he instinctively tried putting his knee beneath of him to support his weight, but it was unbelievable hard. He staggered and crawled to a nearby monolithic pillar, calling out into the darkness, through the patches of light that came from above.

“Hello?! Is anyone here? Somebody! F-Frisk!”

His voice echoed, and there was no response again. The flowers around him whispered various things, though a few began to whisper what he was saying. There was this tempest in his chest, and his stomach.

Stress.

Anxiety.

Desperation.

Fear.

Emotions?

I can feel.

Asriel’s eyes remained wide, as he touched at his chest, feeling his heart beat hard. He felt so many things at once; it was tight, it was nerve-wracking almost. What was this feeling? Adrenaline? It was something—wild, yet, scary.

“I feel—scared?! How?! What is going on!”

He gripped his chest, because it was stinging, and his hand was trembling as he felt the fur, over top of bones. As he flung him-self and crawled, he had no sense of direction. He could barely see at times, and his eyes stung and watered. He found water outside of a building in a bucket, and threw it over him-self.

“C-Cold! I’m—s-so—cold! Whoa!” It made him laugh, maybe in disbelief or in excitement; either way, feeling cold felt new.

He had no idea what to do. He exhaled shakily, his teeth clattering, while holding onto his shoulders and desperately trying to think of what to do. His mind was fuzzy and blurry; and he stared at his toes, and the grass.

Then, he realized he had a chance. Maybe. Maybe just one chance. He stared ahead, feeling him-self driven by a force to move.

“Mom.”

The word rolled off his tongue as if he had never said her name before. It made him ache. If he had one chance, now, out of the thousands that had existed, this was it. A chance to actually tell her something; to mean it, and feel it.

“Ok—ok. Gotta get to mom. Before I die, or something freaking else!”

He needed to find her. If she was still here. Who knows how long it had been? And where did this soul even come from?! Was it really his? Maybe Ruins was abandoned? Maybe he was totally fucked. He had to stop several times, over what felt like hours, maybe even minutes. And it was so cold, for some reason. His mind raced with memories, and feelings; and it hurt his chest so much that he thought something was standing on it.

“Ow.” Asriel whimpered, grabbing at his furry chest, wincing. “Shhhhit! It hurts so much!”

Hey, big kids don’t cry. . .

_ _

“Chara!?” Asriel froze, twitching as he looked around, “I-Is that you?!”

His voice echoed, and then vanished. He looked around, and checked behind him. There was no one. And he felt empty. Like it was only him—he could not sense Chara, though he had not in a long time. A voice in his head repeated, as if memories were rushing to catch up to him.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” He whispered to him-self.

If he came back, maybe they did? After everything. . .

Asriel collapsed again, landing on his arms, feeling his hands scrape across the stone. It hurt immediately, but he had to keep going: he had to get to his mother’s house. Would she believe it was him—would she recognize him? And how long had it truly been since he died, now?

“Hhhah—uhhhuh. I’m gonna pass out. Oh crap.”

His eyes were so heavy and stinging from the dirt. He tried to wipe them, but it felt like something was draining the life out of him. Maybe he was going to die again. Maybe he was just hallucinating, or Frisk did something. Or Alphys.

I have to see her! Please! Please—please let me see my mom. Please! I’m coming home, mom.

And then he saw it; the outline, down from this deserted street. He grunted and kept his feet firm to the ground, staring ahead, focusing on her door. He collapsed against it, rubbing his face against the cold wood, and pushed it open. The bells of the door jingled, and the home was suddenly warm. He could vaguely make out the shape of a TV and chairs to his right, and a couch to his left. He stumbled, catching him-self on it, his legs shaking and his head pounding. The air smelled warm, and slightly sweet; he thought she had baked something recently. Maybe a day ago?

He whispered, catching his shoulder on the wall, “Mom—are you awake? Fuck I’m so tired.”

The only light came from the blue tiled bathroom ahead, and it was too bright for his eyes, like he had only ever been in the dark. He staggered against the telephone, then onto her table before slumping to the ground. There was a center piece plant, which rolled, and crashed to the floor beside him.

“Oh dear. I think a pot just broke!” A voice called from down the hall. “My child, are you ok? I’m coming downstairs!”

My child. . .

Asriel heard a short, hazy conversation. Footsteps moved downwards, then stopped, and yelled that there was blood and mud on the floor, and someone here! Toriel rushed, crying out for them to be careful, pushing them behind. She saw them, hunched over on the ground, and heard them wheezing. It was so dark, but they could vaguely see someone wounded.

“O-Oh my! Are you injured? You poor soul!"

“M. . .” Asriel’s voice choked and strained, and he felt water at his eyes. His face went hot as he rasped out her name.

“M-Mom.”

The room went still. Toriel stared, seeing the white scintillating essence of a monster in her dining room. He was hunched over, shivering, nude, staring back at her. Toriel’s form carefully emerged from around the corner, and she fumbled at the wall, flicking the light to the room on. The goat groaned in pain, squinting and looking at her from under his hand but forced him-self to bear the light.

She was right there. Infront of him like hundreds of times before.

Toriel stared in shock at the goat in front of her; bright green and exhausted eyes looked to her from behind a veil of dirty, blood stained fur. She had never seen this Monster before. She stepped carefully over the mud and blood, leaning down beside of him. His soul was bright; it was powerful, and it wisped off of his body like crystallin vapors. It was not a normal monster soul, and it made her pause.

Toriel whispered carefully, reaching to touch the goat’s shoulder. It was cold, and damp, “Do not worry. You are safe here. My goodness—what happened to you?”

Asriel tried to move towards her, shifting to his knee, while his arms shook to support him. Beside her, Chara stared at Asriel with a less decipherable expression. Their face was blurred, but he recognized them; their soul color, their shirt. Asriel stared at them, realizing they had come back too, and smiled.

“Chara.” He dipped his head wearily, looking up tiredly and grabbed at their sweater with a trembling arm. He gripped tightly, his fist trembling as Asriel pulled them close, “We both made it. I knew we would.”

Toriel looked to Frisk worriedly, who showed equal concerned, pointing out how cold he was, and seemingly delusional. How did this monster know about Frisk? Toriel grabbed a blanket off her chair, wrapping up the shivering goat with it. Asriel flicked his eyes up to her desperately, then to Chara. They said something to Toriel, but he couldn’t understand. Everything felt like it was underwater, or he was.

Why doesn’t she recognize me?!

“What is your name?” Toriel asked gently, but she looked startled when he answered.

He looked up at her, and she looked back; he was having trouble speaking, and was shaking violently, and breathing erratically. “A—Asriel Dreemurr.”

She whispered, but her voice was thinning but tried to maintain her composure for her’s, and Frisk’s sake. “You are confused.”

“I’m not.” Asriel reached, touching his mom’s hands, grabbing them tightly but with fading strength. He felt sick, like his arms were melting, and his fingers were disappearing. But he had to convince her, before it was over!

“Mom. Please, i-it’s me. I-I came back!”

“Please don’t say that.” She asked softly, turning her eyes away for a moment, “Now, tell me what hap—"

“Mom!” Asriel raised his voice frantically, holding her hands up to his chest, “Listen to me! Y-You have to believe me! Be-b-before I die again! Please! I-I—I love you mom! I’m so sor. . .sorr. . . y. . .”

Asriel’s sentence faded as he drooped forward, groaning tiredly and mumbling weakly. He breathed slow and raggedly. His mouth hung open as he fell forward and Toriel caught him, exhaling nervously.

“He is so cold.” She whispered, “Go start the bath.”

Frisk nodded, stepping back slowly. They stared at the goat in Toriel’s arms, before darting away.

Toriel tried to move, but the boy clung to her arm, and to her gown, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. He tried to talk, his entire body shivering before he began to sob uncontrollably, trying to form sentences amidst the weak cries. Everything Asriel had ever felt; from every life, from ever redo, was catching up to him. He heaved, as tears streamed down his cheeks, clinging to his mother. And he remained there, until the exhaustion of being reborn finally took him away.

Summary:

Directly following the events of Chapter 1, the Dreemurr Family scramble with the sudden appearance of a mysterious, unknown monster in Toriel's home. Asgore, Undyne, and the others, gather as either a Miracle, or a Nightmare, has come into their lives. . .

“Tori?” Asgore’s voice slurred as he had just opened his eyes and yawned “Whyyyy—aaaw-awwwwrr—'re you callin’ so early?”

Asgore wobbled in bed, brushing his blond hair back, checking the time, and yawning again. He could hear Toriel talking softly, but she sounded a bit tense. There was noise, like a thud, and Toriel ushering Frisk to pick something up. He could hear another voice, soft mumbles.

“Tori?”

“Sorry. He—h—there is a boy, here. Hold on, please.” Toriel’s voice broke, while water was running in the background. She could barely hold the conversation as she multitasked talking to Asgore, Frisk, and keeping the monster’s head up.

“Hold his head up—just like that, alright. Ok. Shhhh-shhhh. It’s all right. You’re safe, ok? Shhhh. . .”

Asgore sat up urgently, squeezing the phone under his ear, more alarmed now. He asked what boy was there; was it a human, or a monster? But Toriel did not answer immediately. There was more splashing, and then the unmistakable sound of crying. It was pitiful, scared crying.

“Tori, you’re worryin’ me! Is Frisk all right? What is goin’ on over there?” Asgore tensed, cramming the phone under his ear, “I hear someone crying!”

Toriel paused, feeling Frisk grab her hand to comfort her. Something had spooked his wife so much that she could not even answer. Toriel was a strong goat. She kept her head clear and steady; whatever this was, it had her frightened. He could hear her shaky breathing and spoke gently.

“Tori, darlin’, please talk to me!”

“I need you to come over as soon as you can.” Toriel exhaled sharply, shaking her head and nodding, “I have to go, now. Oh dear, he’s shaking so much. . .”

In just mere moments, Asgore was out of the house and in his truck. He drove as fast he could; the grogginess had evaporated immediately, and he was fully aware. Undyne was awoken by a frantic call from him, who woke up Alphys in the process. No one had answers, only that they needed to get to Toriel’s home because something happened. Someone was there! Asgore fumbled to end the call with Undyne, who was still unsure, and call Frisk. He squeezed the phone under his floppy ear, waiting.

Click.

“Frisk!” Asgore called urgently, keeping his eyes on the dark stretch ahead, “Please tell me what the hell is happening! Are you ok?! Are you hurt?!”

There was a pause. Frisk did not know how to answer; not immediately. They had reset timelines and lived through battling the Kingdom, its warriors, and even a god. But in this moment, they felt stuck.

❤️ [DETERMINATION.]

Asriel was home.

Frisk said it simply. Almost too plainly because they too were in a state of shock, staring at the goat in the bathtub. After everything they had seen? This was unbelievable. Toriel was still washing the dirt and blood off of him; and every second of it, Frisk looked for leaves, vines, roots. Anything. But it was only white fur on a trembling body. They had no idea how to even say this to Goat Dad: Asriel was just home. Just like he wanted to be.

On the other end of the line, Asgore was silent. Frisk could only hear the sound of his truck, and his deep breathing. They asked softly if he was still there, and Asgore took a moment to respond.

“W—wh—wha. . .I—I.” Asgore’s jaw was shaking as his breath broke, his sentence fading into fragment whispers. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles hurt.

“Did y—my. . .my—he’s there? Asriel is there?”

Frisk nodded, as if Asgore could see them. Asriel was there, right now.

For a moment, Asgore had lost focus and the dark road, and headlights, became a grey blue of illuminated walls and dirt. He braked hard, swerving along the dark road until he stopped, staring at the dashboard. The words repeated in his head; over, and over. Then it was silent in his head. Then he heard the words again. His throat tightened, as he tried to croak out a question.

Frisk waited around nervously, glancing between goat mom and the phone. Gulping hard, Asgore asked to speak to Toriel; his voice was low, and hollow.

“Keep drying him off, my child.” Toriel whispered gently, taking the phone back, glancing over her shoulder, “Gorey. . .are you there?”

“I-I—I’m here, Tori.”

She trembled, drying her hands off, glancing over her should, “How far away are you?”

“Is it our son?”

She told him to just hurry.

* * *

Everyone who was even remotely adjacent to the Dreemurr family had gathered at Toriel’s home in the early hours of the morning. The Kingdom was still; few monsters were active, even in a place of darkness. But there was growing unrest largely in part due to a certain Skeleton, but also, the energy. Something was in the air. They all could feel a stirring in the twilight hours of The Underground. Asgore arrived in near record time, condensing a normally three-hour long drive into only one. The whole time he was praying under his breath, whispering, desperately calling over and over. Frisk eventually picked up the phone and explained as best that they could. When

SLAM!

“Where is he! WHERE is my son!?” Asgore stumbled into the home wide eyed, almost destroying the door, “Asriel?!”

He was dressed in his royal gown and armor, but his eyes were wide, his hair disheveled. Everyone jumped and rose up, having never heard the King yell before. Scanning the room, he did not see the small, furry white form of his child. Maybe he had hallucinated it? He blinked, rubbing his face.

“Where is our son! Tori?”

“He—the boy is upstairs. He is asleep.” Toriel answered softly, squeezing the man’s shoulders.

Asgore was wide-eyed, almost frantic. He looked at the others then to her ceiling and grabbed Toriel’s arms. Asgore pleaded, grabbing her hands tightly, his blue eyes fixed on her; he was nearly unmanageable. He had never been this frantic, not since the day of his son’s death. He tried to push past, but he was held back by both Undyne, and Toriel, who just needed him to calm down.

Toriel reached to hold the man’s face with both her hands, making him face her. “Stop. Look at me, Gorey. Calm down this instant! Calm. Down.”

Turning his eyes, Asgore looked at Toriel, wondering why she was not taking him immediately. She asked him again, to calm down. He shuddered, then closed his eyes, exhaling, and nodded. He took a moment to calm down, finding it nearly impossible to steady his chest, or his heart.

Why was no one rejoicing?

Why did they all, all of them, seem so unnerved? Why was Toriel hesitating?!

“I will be right back. All of you? Please just—watch out.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Undyne nodded, glancing down to Alphys. Papyrus and Sans remained quiet, with Papyrus looking legitimately unnerved.

Asgore was walked quietly through the home, up the stairs to the second floor, and Toriel hesitated, gently opening the door. Asgore’s eyes shifted from the floor, nervously up to the bed, tracing over the form of the sleeping goat. A bright, white, scintillating aura of a powerful soul was radiating off of him; he was no normal monster. Taking a step forward, a lump began to grow in the man’s throat.

. . .

Asgore was rigid and practically a statue. He was standing against the sink, his hands gripping the edges, his head down; none of them dared to speak, unless to try and offer comfort, or a service. Both The King and Queen had a glossy, almost lost look in their eyes that none of the other monsters knew how to comfort. Undyne checked on Asgore, only touching his arm; The King did not respond at first, staying still.

She knew better than to push it, taking her place back by Alphys. Frisk looked to Alphys, holding their gaze, before looking down. The monsters texted quietly; Papyrus had not muted his phone immediately.

DING!

“S-SORRY.”

The skeleton rushed to mute his phone, while all the monsters tensed. Neither of the rulers seemed to really notice, at first. Toriel nuzzled into Frisk’s hair, whispering something quietly. Frisk nodded, looking up, then to Asgore. They slid form the chair, and approached Goat Dad, who turned to look down at them. He smiled, rubbing their hair softly, then faced Toriel.

“You said he had our boy’s eyes?”

Everyone looked to Toriel. She nodded, looking to the side, then up towards the room, then away.

“It sounded just like him. I—oh. Oh dear. Come on, Tori. . .”

Toriel gasped and inhaled sharply, blinking hard as she tried not to cry. She patted her chest; just seeing him again, even asleep, haunted her. She did not want to think about how her son used to look, when he took his naps. The soft way his eyebrows would rest or the way he curled up. The boy upstairs was sleeping exactly the same way. She chalked it up to coincidence—because, if she didn’t. . .

“Ahem.” Toriel cleared her throat, covering her lips with the back of her fingers, “He thought that Frisk was Chara, too.”

The other monsters looked at Frisk, then to each other. None of them really knew what Chara looked like; there were so few pictures, from that long ago. After their death, and the separation, Toriel and Asgore kept many of their family photos private. Possibly for their own sake.

“I thought the same thing.” Asgore spoke in a low baritone, giving a weak smile to Frisk. “What with that sweater, and all.”

Asgore wrapped his large hand around Frisk’s shoulders, rubbing their back softly. Frisk reached up, rubbing his shoulder, then leaned against him.

Toriel exhaled, wiping her eyes, “I’m sorry, everyone! I am being such a bad host, right now. Gorey, let’s make some tea. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect.” Asgore whispered.

Frisk stood up and rushed to hug Toriel, promising her she was doing nothing wrong, and suggested she just rest. It was a long morning! Toriel hugged them back as tightly as they could, and Frisk could feel how desperately Goat Mom needed this hug. They were shaking.

“Mrs. Dreemurr, it’s ok.” Alphys whispered delicately, “We—we all just wish we could help.”

“You are.” Toriel admitted, waving to the machine, “Thank you for coming by so early, both of you.”

“You’re welcome, your majesty.” Undyne replied softly, giving a reassuring smile, “Alphy will know the truth in no time, right babe?”

“Right!” Alphys smiled nervously, glancing to the screen of her KinSeq, “I-In no time! I don’t know w-why it’s being so slow! Hehe! I’m sorry!”

“That is all right, Alphys.” Asgore assured her, “What is that?”

“O-OH! This is—is my KinSeq! It tests the genetic sequencing of Monster Dust to determine paternal, maternal, or familial similarity! It’s very thorough, heh, actually!”

Undyne gently squeezed Toriel’s hand, glancing over to Asgore who was now preparing tea. The King tried to hide it, but he was crying. He had been crying silently, as he used to. During his long walks through New Home. Or when he walked his Castle, and their Gardens alone. Or when he sat in the throne room; he cried silently with such strength that you would never notice it unless you stood close.

The feeling in the room was abnormal; neither dread, nor hope. It was strange. None of them had felt this way before. Toriel gently turned on the gas burner for the stove, while Asgore set the kettle down. For the most fleeting of moments, it felt normal. They waited in silence, and Asgore wanted so badly to hold his wife’s hand, to assure her that he could protect her, love her, whatever she needed.

Except that the action of holding her hand would only be met with her pulling away. He turned his tired eyes over, assembling cups on the serving tray.

“Your majesty.” Undyne began carefully, “You said he was unharmed, correct?”

Toriel detailed how he was covered in dirt, mud, blood, roots; it was like he had been buried, or something else? Maybe he had crawled his way, at first. None of them could really believe it. Monsters were not buried so why was he like that? Some kind of cruel joke? Toriel could not make sense of it. None of the others had seen him yet.

“YOUR MAJESTY.” Papyrus began in the quietest voice he could manage, “DID HE SAY ANYTHING? SOMETHING THAT MADE SENSE?”

“Well. That I was his mother.” Toriel answered directly, “And that—he was sorry.”

“Sorry?” Asgore looked over.

“I don’t know why. He was so desperate.” She shook her head, “He fainted, and I called you.”

The King swallowed, and exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders. Could he have walked here, all the way here, from New Home? But why would he? He would have been inside their home. Asgore would have heard him, or something. They were all equally as confused as the other; why was he here? Why was he an adult? Enough time had passed that, realistically, he would have come back around this age, maybe.

“We should go wake him.”

“No.” Toriel shook her head, “Let him sleep. He needs it. Whatever he went through was troubling.”

“This is all troubling.” Asgore remarked softly under his breath.

None of this makes sense. I cannot wait like this. I can’t! Tori, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—I wish I could just hold you, darling.

_ _

Tea was served, and everyone thanked him, sipping quietly. Toriel drank her tea rather swiftly; she needed the caffeine. Then, rather bravely, she grabbed a dark blue bottle from the cabinet above the Refrigerator. The others watched as The Queen poured her-self a glass, drank it, and exhaled. She took a moment, her eyes closed, patting her chest.

But then the emotions came back, she made her-self another drink. Asgore had seen this in private; she was not an alcoholic. But she needed her own comforts. He let her take the time she needed to try and steady her-self, before offering an arm out for support. Toriel latched onto Asgore and held him as tightly as he held her.

He avoided looking in Sans’ direction.

Asgore whispered, “Where could he have been? After all this time? If it—if it really is our son. Why didn’t he come home?”

“I don’t know.” Toriel whispered back.

Asgore’s jaw tightened. His whole body was rigid; no longer soft, or warm, or gentle. He was stone-like as he looked across the room, at the stairs. Hope did not feel resplendent; sometimes it hurt to feel it. Sometimes it was an agony, because even if you felt it, you feared it. Feared losing it more than you loved feeling it.

“I can’t do it again, Tori.” Asgore gravely warned, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I can’t watch us both suffer, again. . .”

Sans: u guys got any idea?

Alph: No.

Paps: NYEH! 🍝 PERHAPS A GHOST?! 👻👻

Frisk: 🐐🪽?

Sans: doubt it kid, angels aint real

Frisk: 😢😭

Dyne: shit is killing me. we gotta wake him up.

Dyne: and interrogate him..

Paps: AND FEED HIM SPAGHETTI🍝🍝

Frisk: ❌🍝

Paps: ONLY TRUE MONSTERKIND CAN APPRECIATE SPAGHETTI!💀

Alph: I CAN DO THIS! THE TEST IS NEARLY FINISHED!

Alph: Just give it time. . .

Dyne: your smart babe

Dyne: if he’s faking it youl prove i t

Frisk: 🧠🤯🧪

Alph: You’re*

Paps: NYEH!

Sans: just keep kol for now

Sans: Asgore looks messed up

Dyne: i feel messed up

Dyne: dammit i wish we could see him

Dyne: Asgore doesn’t need this

Alph_: Cool*_

Sans_:_ thx lol

Dyne: ❤️💪

Alphys sat anxiously, watching as the device analyzed the blood of all three goats; and something in her twisted. Something felt different. Something was heavy, or maybe it was just her fear of playing with the blood of The Dreemurr Family. The Kinship Sequencer, or KinSeq, was a left-over device from their Amalgates days; something they had used to establish relations with dust that was harder to determine the origins of. She was glad now to maybe use it for something good.

Undyne was curious, asking her hushed, amusing questions. And Alphys lied about its origins, and purpose. There was no way, especially now, Undyne could ever know what this horrible device was used for. . .

“Your majesties i-it will only take a few minutes. I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep you waiting!” Alphys whispered, running their hands over each other anxiously, still dressed in their pajamas. Undyne was beside them, one arm around her girlfriend, and keeping an eye on Asgore.

The machined hummed; the basic, DOS screen loading and compiling an impossible to understand stream of numbers, letters, and terms. Asgore looked at it, as if trying to find a clue. Toriel did, as well. Trying to see something. But it was far beyond them.

. . 15%

. . . 15.26%

. . . 16.3%

“Are you ok, Frisk?” Asgore spoke gently, hugging Frisk tightly between him and Toriel, “I know this must’ve frightened you. Sure got me all worked up!”

Frisk was ok. Freaked out, but ok. They let go and excused them-selves to step outside, since they just needed some air. It was a lot to wake up to, at three in the morning. Asgore nodded, brushing their hair, and Toriel gave them a hug, before sitting down. They listened to the machine hum, while the rest of the home seemed eerily silent now.

“What—what if it is not him.” Toriel whispered.

“Tori.”

“Gorey, we have to be honest with our-selves.” Toriel did not look up to him, staring off at the grooves in her table, “We have to be realistic, about this.”

“I don’t want to be realistic.” Asgore muttered bitterly.

“One of us has to be.”

The question was heavy, too heavy to want to think about. Asgore did not want to think about it. He could not. To have lost all the hope, and joy in his life, to have lost everything, and did what he did—only to have it come back for a fleeting moment, then taken away?

He would have rather died, than to experience that all over again. He would rather die than to risk making the same mistakes all over again.

“Our son died a long, long time ago.”

“I know that he did, but—I—I. . .” Asgore’s voice trailed off, and he did not know what he even wanted to say.

His mind was practically empty, yet, overfilled with emotions, hope, fear, despair, desperation, confusion. Tori, he thought, must be feeling it even worse than him. She rarely ever showed so much weakness, not vulnerability, but weakness. Even when he committed his sins, she stood against him. And then she cried in private. It was how Toriel always was; she was stronger than him.

“If it is not our son,” Toriel’s voice was steadier, more natural. “We will take care of him all the same. Regardless.”

“We will. Aint many of us goats around, so he won’t be fittin’ in anywhere else!”

Toriel chuffed, nodding with a weak smile, glancing over to him approvingly. She found it hard to sit and stood up, needing to do something to keep her hands, and her mind busy. She took a book from the shelf, sitting down, and adjusted her glasses; with all her might, she tried to focus on the page.

But it was pointless.

. . .23%

. . .24%

[SUSPICION.]

❤️ [INSTINCT.]

Something about this triggered their intuition: not just a monster being reincarnated. And certainly not The Prince Asriel Dreemurr suddenly appearing. Something was itching at the back of Frisk’s mind, and in their gut. The front yard had been overwhelmed by traffic, and Frisk could barely see where Asriel would have even came from. Finding dried mud? In The Underground? Like trying to find a drop in the ocean. They walked further away, using their phone’s flashlight to find any trace they could.

Along the wall, there was mud. It was dark. Frisk felt it; just damp enough to maybe be from the morning. Not flaky, or dusty.

Dust.

Frisk trekked forward, following it with a sense of nostalgia. The path was all too familiar; through the dark corridors, into the open, abandoned city. The mud disappeared as it opened to the empty, cold streets of Ruins. But Frisk did not need to ask for directions. They had a feeling; and it guided them to exactly where they needed to be. Just like how they had handled their journey in the underground; Frisk trusted their instincts as much as they trusted Goat Mom and Goat Dad.

Frisk: 🌻🩸

Frisk: 😶😶

Brainiac: Frisk? What do you Mean.

Frisk: 🌻=🪦

Brainiac: Oh.

Brainiac: Flowey is dead?

Frisk: 🤷‍♀️

Frisk: 🌻=🐐🪽

Brainiac: Oh.

Brainiac: no.

Brainiac: Frisk. Are you sure?

Frisk: ✔️🤔❓

Brainiac: Fi

Brainiac: rsk come

Brainiac: b

Brainiac: back

Brainiac: quickl y

Brainiac is typing. . .

_ _

Brainiac: Sorry.

Brainiac: Frisk, come back quickly. Ok?

Frisk: 🚫😶

Brainiac: I understand.

Alphys was going to panic, this much they knew. Frisk had a hunch that whatever the machine showed would have shocked them even worse if they had not been at least prepared. Maybe a part of them knew? Regardless, Frisk had a search of the area where it all began. And it did not take long to find him. Well, what was left of him. It was far away from Toriel’s home, in the place where Frisk had appeared once before. They turned their eyes up to the shaft of light, remembered that day. It felt like it was so long ago.

“Forget about me. Just take care of mom and dad. . .”

_ _

No way. Frisk would have never forgotten him. They had thought every day about how he would come back. . .

“Howdy!”

_ _

Frisk looked down, studying the destroyed bed of golden flowers. Flowey was gone. He had been crushed beneath this thing. A goat? A feral white goat, from the human world? They knelt down, gently touching Flowey’s petals. They were cold.

Glancing over their shoulder, they began digging. . .

. . .76%

“Your Majesties.” Alphys spoke softly, turning her eyes up. She had trouble looking at The Dreemurrs, but forced a smile, “We will know, i-in just a moment. I’m sorry for the wait.”

“I just hope it’s not a fucking jo—” Undyne began, then cleared their throat, “Sorry, Ma’am. I just hope it’s not a joke.”

Toriel waved her hand, excusing the language for now. The situation called for it. Frisk appeared back inside, patting their chest, and apologized. They just needed to walk.

“Alphys said they are almost ready.” Toriel smiled, “Come, my child.”

Frisk nodded, going to the kitchen to get a drink and to discretely wash their hands. They made sure to clean the sink thoroughly and stared out the window quietly. Whatever was upstairs sleeping in that room—was it really him? Was it Flowey, or Asriel, or both?

“ Hnnnfghah!” Asriel shot up in bed.

Scrambling and thrashing, he flung him-self back, kicking off the blankets, and bumping into the wall. Asriel shuddered and breathed rapidly, then groaned, and fell onto his hands on the bed. He dragged him-self back, trying to sit up while wobbling. His chest hurt, and his head hurt too; he felt hot, and dizzy, and exhausted.

Asriel touched at his abdomen, then his chest, which was filled with lungs, and bones. He felt organs, felt his own warm breath, and the anxiety that gripped him.

“I’m—still fucking alive?” He groaned weakly, rubbing at his hot face, “What is going on?”

The room looked unfamiliar, but it was unmistakably a room for children, and the one in his mother’s home. He had never been up here before. Never seeing into the second-story floor, only knowing it was a room reserved for Frisk and new humans. He had seen the window for years; eons, but never went up to it, or into it. It was new. Completely new. Putting his feet to the floor, Asriel strained to get up. He grabbed onto the dresser and used the wall to support his weight.

Why was walking so hard?

“Uuuugh—gosh—my head really, really huuuurts.”

Asriel hung his head down. It hurt, a lot. His whole body hurt, actually. His eyes. His chest. Everything hurt, and every sensation was so clear, and intense that even breathing was something he noticed so directly. The movement was natural, but feeling air go into his lungs almost seemed alien to him. He stared at the ground, at his feet, and the pink pajamas on his legs.

“Why am in pink?” He cocked his eyebrow, tracing his hand over pink sleeves, and squinted. They had a slightly floral design, like flowers.

“Wait. Are these my da—DAD?! MOM?! ” Asriel teetered on his weak legs, the room spinning around him.

From below, the occupants were startled by muffled yells, and the scrambling sound of someone moving. Toriel gasped, realizing he was awake. Or, at worst, he fell out of bed! She prepared to rush to the stairs but only made it a step when a pink and white blur rushed down the steps and crashed against the bookcase beside the bathroom door.

“Ah—hah—ow! Ooooow!” Asriel groaned, and moaned, and whimpered, “Dammit.”

“Whoa! Hey!” Undyne stood up, rushing ahead, “Your Majesties? Should we grab him? He could freak out.”

“Just—just wait.”

Asriel wheezed and pushed him-self up, wincing and squinting his eyes to push past the sudden rush of experiencing pain. It stung, and it felt hot and cold. His legs trembled as he stood up, his attention shifting to the two, towering figures in the kitchen. She was right there in the dining room; only feet away from him, along with his father, Frisk, and others.

The group watched as the goat stumbled up; he was tall. Very tall. And he had the unmistakable characteristics of his parents; white goat monsters were, after all, non-existent except for the Dreemurr family. But he looked like them. Unquestionably like them.

“He has all the somatic traits of both parents.” Alphys whispered delicately, glancing over their shoulder to the test, which had still not completed.

“Yeah, but.” Undyne whispered carefully, “How do we know that is really him?”

“I guess Tori and Asgore will know.” Sans mentioned, his hands resting in his pockets, “Kinda looks like them, though.”

“YES BROTHER. HE DOES. FRISK, WHAT DOST THOU THINKETH?”

Sans looked over, asking why he was talking like that.

“BECAUSE BROTHER THIS IS A SIGNIFICANT MOMENT! WE MUST TREAT IT WITH CARE! THE DREEMURR FAMILY COULD BE REUNITED!”

Asgore stood beside Toriel; both of them stared at this young man with wide eyes, as if looking at a ghost. His soul was bright; it was shimmering off his body like a wisp of silvery vapors. The results had not finished; but Asgore knew, instantly, that he did not need them. He did not care. He could not let his heart be broken, and have hope ripped from it again. . .

“Mom. Dad.”

Asgore choaked and tensed, his whole body reacting, every muscle flinching, and his heart twisting in a feeling he could not express. Hope? Fear? It was unknown to him. Miracles could terrify you, because they break the rules; they reset the order, they change your life so immediately. It is destructive, yet. . .

Undyne walked forward, standing behind Frisk and the family, narrowing her eyes. She did not care if he looked like the ghost of Asriel; this was not how things worked in The Underground. Undyne her-self could believe in a lot of things. But reincarnation: zombies? Whatever this was, she did not trust it.

“Where did you come from, monster? You were covered in dirt, and blood!”

“Did you kill someone?” Sans asked.

“ARE YOU AN ANGEL?!” Papyrus also asked.

“What? No! What are you talking about?!” Asriel cast a displeased look at the group, then turned to his parents. “Mom, Da—"

“You’re a grown ass monster! Asriel was a child. Wanna explain that to us?” Undyne crossed her arms, examining him suspiciously, “Well?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Asriel sounded frustrated, almost glaring at Undyne.

“PERHAPS HE HAS GROWN FROM THE TIME THAT PASSED?” Papyrus suggested.

Sans shrugged, saying time was weird.

“It could be accelerated cellular maturation?” Alphys suggested idly, taping her lip and thinking, “Perhaps that explains why he is an adult?”

“All of you. Please.” Asgore looked over sorely at the group, who responded by going quiet. He turned back to the white goat, studying him anxiously, his voice thin.

“Did you not—know this?”

Toriel spoke gently, glancing to Asgore, “How old do you think that you are?”

“I thought. . .”

The monster looked at them in confusion, then looked down at him-self. They watched as he touched his chest, and arms as if realizing something new? His eyes widened, and he turned, staring around the room, then to him-self.

“What the hell. . ?”

The group began to argue amongst them-selves about what he was. An imposter? An Angel? A zombie? None of them had an idea. Alphys wanted to wait for their machine to be finished, hurriedly checking it and cussed under their breath in Japanese. It would be another ten minutes; and that was not time that anyone in the room had to spare.

They’re scared of me. I—I don’t know what to do! Why are they scared of me?!

The fear in their faces haunted him. Because it was familiar. It was so familiar to him because of the things that had been done, that he had seen. All the times that they had died in the vines, and roots. All of the times that they had been harmed in front of him.

“N-no.” Asriel whimpered. He grabbed his chest, feeling the crushing weight of suffering, and regret, and anguish, and. . .

“You don’t deserve them. You don’t deserve their love. You don’t deserve. . .”

_ _

[HOPELESSNESS.]

❤️ [BEGGING.]

_ _

“Y-You have to believe me! I’m your son! Please! I wouldn’t lie to you!”

“As—” Toriel began to speak, taking a step forward. But the monster in front of her began to panic! He wrapped his arms around his torso, his legs giving out as he fell to his knees.

“I-I don’t know how I’m here! I really don’t! Pl-Please! I don’t want be with. . . o-out you again. . .”

“They don’t believe you! Maybe you’re not even alive! Maybe you are still dead. . .

He blubbered and sobbed, his shoulders shaking while he clenched his teeth, trying to speak and begging them to believe him. But a voice in his mind raced with guilt, and condemnation. Asriel did not deserve to be here, it said. He did not deserve to get to love his family again; or to be loved back by them. After all the things that had been done, why should he deserve anything. He deserved oblivion after everything he did.

The deaths.

The resets.

[RESET.]

Asriel choaked, feeling the room fade away as he had suddenly fell to his knees in despair. They did not believe him—no one would. He had to figure out a way to convince them! Everyone was so unsure what to make of what was going on, that none of them noticed at first what was happening. Asriel felt heat and pressure, and when he tried to move, he could not. Why did it have to be like this? Why did his life have to turn out this way? He just wanted to be happy, he just wanted to be with his family. Maybe he was dying, again? For a third time? Maybe his soul was evaporating, and maybe none of this was permanent. Why did it have to be like this? Why did his life have to turn out this way? He just wanted to be happy, he just wanted to be with his family. . .

“Asriel. . .” a voice whispered softly into his ear. “We’re here.”

He could not move, not at first. He felt frozen by the anguish. A hand touched the side of his face, with a thumb grazing his eye. His tears were wiped away, and he choaked, almost afraid to look up. But he opened his eyes slowly, turning up with a meek whimper. The obscured, watery sight of his parents surrounding him. Their arms gripped him tightly, and he felt their warmth. In his heart, he could feel their love. It was warm, it was gentle, it felt endless and stronger than anything he had ever experienced before. He hyperventilated, his jaw trembling and he latched, surrendering to their embrace.

“Mmm-mm-moo-oom! Daa-aa-aa-aaad!” Asriel whimpered, holding them as tightly as his arms could allow him. He snorted and gritted his teeth, his voice breaking into high-pitched bursts of desperate syllables, his heart aching to tell them as many times as he could, “I-I-I—I—I lovvv-vv-ve you!”

“My s-s-son.” Asgore’s voice shattered, his tears staining his cheeks. “Asriel—m—m-my boy! I love you—I love you so much, my son! I’m sorry. . .”

Asgore held his son by the jaw, turning the face up; his hands remembered how small Asriel felt back then, and even now. Pitiful, bright eyes looked back at him with so much pain, and longing that it broke The King’s heart to even see. He kissed his son on the forehead, while Toriel kissed him on the cheek, rocking back and forth with her child in her arms, squeezing him under her chin. His voice broke and wavered as he felt a suffocating blend of joy and despair; as if the memories of two separate lives collided. He felt a joy that crushed him; it felt almost punishing from the intensity. He told his son with every breath he could how sorry he was, and how much he loved him.

“M-my child—I love you. I love you! I-I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you—I’m s-s-so sorry Asriel. Oh m—my sweet child!” Toriel whimpered, her entire body trembling just hearing her son’s voice, but to hold him left her weak.

Toriel heaved and shuddered, fighting the hardest of the three to remain steady. She wanted to see her son more than she wanted to cry. She needed to see him. To remember him. To tell him as many times as possible that she loved him. Toriel kissed along her son’s cheek and his forehead, looking at him, hugging him, then looking at him again as if the moment she stopped then he would be gone from her life again. That he would turn to dust, and fade away. She could not bear to think about losing her little boy again. She gripped both her children so tightly in her arms that no force in the entire Underground could pry them away from her.

Don’t let go of me, mom and dad. Don’t let go. I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry for everything. I love you both. I. . . I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .

###

Summary:

Directly following the events of Asriel's reunion, Asriel processes being alive. Feeling. Touching. Smelling. And, the weight of lifetimes of guilt, and loneliness, that creep up in the back of his mind...

###

The rush of their reunion, and his unbroken fever, was too much for the monster’s body. He fainted in their parents’ arms, and the act alone caused both parents to become devastated. They were assured he was breathing, and alive; and they forced each other to get up and carry him back to the room.

Everyone scrambled to get him to the room, bringing ice, water, and each monster offering a service to the Royal Family. Frisk stayed by their parent’s side, grabbing Asriel’s hand, squeezing it, and monitoring his fever every thirty minutes.

Alphys who was tasked with determining what was wrong with their son, disregarding the previous task of determining if it even was him. They did not care. Alphys measured that Asriel’s soul, while anomalous, was in fact a Monster Soul; they could not verify if it was his original soul, or something new. Regardless of that, it was extremely unstable and fluctuated like a fire with too much oxygen. He would need to rest and stabilize. Alphys’s KinSeq finalized its sequencing, and concluded that biologically, this monster was Determined to be their son.

This was the first real moment of relief.

“You got any of his, uh, old dust? I guess?” Undyne asked downstairs later in the afternoon as they packed up to go home.

“Oh! Why?”

“To compare it with, I dunno. It just seems fishy.”

“Buh-dum-tish.” Sans flicked his wrists as if drumming the air, “But yeah, it is kinda weird.”

“W-Well! Um, yes? I did have some residual dust, from uh—Mr. Dreamy’s throne room.” Alphys winced, glancing at the device, “So, n-no worries! He’s not some clone with a genetic deviate of 1.8% or anything suspicious! Like a zombie!

“Babe, that was kinda suspicious?”

“Oh, I’m just nervous! You know! Reincarnation is, um, new!”

“Super new.” Undyne sighed tiredly, wrapping her arm around Alphy’s shoulder and walked her out of the house.

* * *

Asriel’s fever lasted through the night, lowering in the early morning.

Asgore stayed the night, watching over his son, then Toriel took a shift in the morning. Both parents were beyond exhausted; Toriel hid it better than his father did. Frisk did everything that they could to help, while rumor spread through the kingdom, mostly due to Papyrus.

“OUR PRINCE HAS RETURNED! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL SPREAD THE MESSAGE OF HOPE THROUGHOUT THE KINGDOM!”

“Paps, I dunno. Think they need a bit?” Sans suggested from the couch as Papyrus prepared to leave, “Ya know?”

“I DON’T KNOW, ACTUALLY! BUT IT DOES NOT MATTER.”

“Yeah, I know, buddy. Huhuhu.”

For his first day alive, he awoke exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated. He mumbled his words at first, being fed soup, and water, by his parents. They stayed with him at his bedside the entire time, until he found the strength to finally sit upright. Asgore, and Toriel, watched as their boy dizzily looked around, then to them. And then he smiled, then he cried, then he smiled. And they did they same. By then, the entire family, and Frisk, were exhausted.

But Asriel did not want to sleep again. Not for a long time. He wanted to stay awake as long as he could so he could experience feeling as much as possible. Reliving the sensation of love, and vulnerability.

I lived so long, without being able to love them back. . .

They introduced him to Frisk gently, and the two shared a look of understanding, pretending to meet each other for the first time. Later in that morning, he was walked downstairs; an action he admittedly needed some help with. Asriel was sat down, still exhausted, but woke up as he ate his mother’s cooking. Something about it alone made him begin to cry; he forgot how soft he was, and, how much this meant. To taste something made with love. To sit and eat with his family.

I don’t deserve this. . .

There was a lot to talk about, between all of them. And they, his parents, did not want to rush him into understanding the new lives that they were living. Asriel had grown used to, he thought, the reality of his parent’s separation. But nothing prepared him for the guilt and burden that he suddenly felt when Asgore explained certain events happened and he and Toriel were no longer together.

They assured him it was not his fault. Like any parent would. They talked to him like he was a child, holding onto his hands, promising they loved him. The weak, lonely look in his father’s blue eyes triggered something in Asriel’s chest, and stomach.

He had seen it so many times. So many times. Asriel’s dreams were a mephitic blend of past events, hopes, and moments that he suddenly felt. And he felt so many things, when he saw his parents.

❤️ [GUILT.]

Toriel cooked with Asgore’s help, and they spent their night on the couch together, watching films, and shows together. He was nestled across their bodies like a child, submitting to that nostalgia of being small, vulnerable, and being held. There was so much bliss, and joy inside of him, that very easily he began forgetting about the past. The eons of his past.

His mother was brushing his hair softly with her fingers, like she used to. Asriel’s legs were curled slightly, resting on his father’s lap, with Asgore holding onto him tightly. They whispered their love to each other endlessly, listening to a film that had been played in the background. Even after he fell asleep, they continued to tell him, over, and over, as if making up for not telling him that final day.

Guess you feel lucky, huh?

Asriel woke up the next morning groggy and disoriented in a room upstairs. He laid in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. It felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream? The most perfect dream imaginable. How could it be real? Asriel had always just wanted to go home; and he felt this strange schism in his head. All the horrible memories of Flowey’s, now had weight, feeling, regret, and horror. And yet they felt more distant than the painful last moments he remembered being alive.

Remembering two lifetimes of pain, and tragedy. . .

[RESET.]

Asriel leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. The noise of the room was loud; the creaks in the wood, the noise of his legs moving underneath the blanket. He felt them move, the muscles tighten, and shift. He felt his toes curl, and he smiled.

It was very early, and he assumed everyone was still asleep as he tiptoed towards the kitchen, but stopped, hearing a hushed conversation. Part of him assumed they might already be suspecting something; it made his stomach twist. Did they find Flowey’s corpse? Did they already know who or what he was? Asriel was overcome with an immediate panic and crouched to listen; in his mind he was begging for them to have not found anything.

Tap, tap.

Frisk walked in, closing the door behind them. Asriel remembered what they had done. What he asked them to do. Everything between them; their friendship. The way Frisk forgave him. And how Asriel told Frisk forget about him take care of mom and dad. All he wanted was for everyone to be happy.

“Frisk.”

Then they lunged, hugging Asriel as tightly as they could! Asriel squeezed back hard, whispering how happy he was to see them. Frisk felt so small in his arms; he underestimated his height, and new strength when he heard their back pop a few times. Asriel panicked, but Frisk stretched, thanking him and laughed.

“Golly, I’m so fucking happy right now! Heh. It’s crazy! Feeling happy!” Asriel laughed childishly, rubbing Frisk’s shoulders, “I’m so glad you’re here. I really am.”

Frisk whispered they were so happy to see him again, calling him Azzy.

“Azzy.” Asriel smirked, then snickered immaturely. “Kind of forgot that was my name. Wow, heh. This is just crazy.”

Frisk agreed.

“I thought for a while I was dreaming.” Asriel admitted, looking at his hands, clenching and releasing, “I really didn’t think this—that I could ever get to come back.”

It was something Frisk had been thinking about too. They wanted to tell him more about what they knew, and had seen, but they were holding off for now. Asriel talked about how exciting it was to have arms and legs again, feel his toes and fingers! And how much he missed having fur. He loved having fur again! And tasting things. Frisk smiled, crossing their arms and watching. Asriel held his ears, touched his tail, and smirked, realizing how silly he looked.

Frisk mentioned he looked way less cool, though, and now he just looked kinda normal. Asriel did not understand, but Frisk motioned, referencing the black marks on his body, or his black eyes.

“God of death. I—he was terrible. I’m sorry about, um, everything he did.” Asriel frowned at the corner of their mouth, and expressed remorse, and resentment, for what happened. He did not want to think about it.

Frisk forgave them immediately and then complained about how tall Asriel was. They said it was kind of unfair, actually. Asriel stood up, looking down at Frisk and smirked. It was fun, he remarked, being so tall! He had spent an eternity being shorter than just about everyone else.

[REINCARNATION?]

Asriel looked at his body again, and his pink pajamas, curling his toes, “I just woke up like this.”

No visions. No angels, or anything?

“I remember, uh, uuuuum, Flowey, ahem, went to sleep.” Asriel corrected him-self, shaking his head. “And then I woke up underground, sorta? I thought you guys buried me alive or something! I was kind of mad!”

Frisk assured him they wouldn’t do that unless Asriel asked. Asriel looked at them seriously and questioned why he would ever ask them to do that? Frisk just shrugged and said crazier things had happened.

“Heh, that is true.” Asriel smirked.

❤️ [GUILT.]

Frisk said they had to go back downstairs; they just wanted to check on him, but the family was still trying to sort out how to approach everything. Asriel hugged them tightly and watched them leave before sighing hopelessly. He rolled over onto the pillow, curling up and enjoying the plush, cool mound, finding him-self drifting slowly back to sleep. He would wake up again, go downstairs and. . .

SLAM!

“Oh! Goodness, you scared me.”

“SORRY, YOUR MAJESTY! BUT I HAVE COME. . .”

Asriel whined into the pillow, “Oh no. It’s too early for him. Mooooom, tell him to go home.”

He tried to close his eyes, and cover his ears, as Papyrus talked very loudly downstairs in the kitchen with his mother, and father. He then heard the noise of others entered, and it seemed to be an entire gathering.

“. . .DESERVES NUTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI. THIS VERY EXCELLENT NOODLE IS TAGLIATELLE.” Papyrus argued proudly, motioning with one hand, “BEHOLD! I PREPARED IT LAST NIGHT!”

“Paps, can you even spell that?” Undyne snorted, looking over the noodle, and grimaced, “Why are they flat? They look kinda gross.”

“THEY ARE NOT GROSS!”

“Yeah, they kind of are. They look like flat worms.”

Papyrus shrieked in offense, “YOU WILL REFRAIN FROM SUCH OBJECTIONAL LANGUAGE INFRONT OF MY SPAGHETTI!”

“That’s the biggest word you know.” Undyne retorted.

“ACTUALLY, IT IS NOT!”

Frisk asked Papyrus what the biggest word was that they knew.

“He’s talking fancy ‘cause he wants to make a good impression.” Sans laughed, “Come on buddy, calm down a little bit.”

“Shhh! I think he is still sleeping.” Toriel giggled, thanking Papyrus for the gift. “You can meet him soon, Papyrus.

Papyrus began to launch into an oddly thorough, possibly prepared speech about the superiority of Tagliatelle and why it was more suitable for royals than just plain Spaghetti. Undyne challenged that classic Spaghetti was better; the flat noodles looked weird. Offended at ‘Pastacism’, Papyrus refused to hear her slander, and left.

SLAM!

“Good mor—"

“ NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

“—ning, Papyrus.”

The Skeleton barged in with each clank of his armor waking up Asriel more and more, and politely bent the knee, bowing his head. Asriel jolted and sat up, staring wide-eyed at Papyrus in a flash of frustration, then his shoulders slumped, and he yawned.

“I AM THE GREAT MASTERCHEF PAPYRUS! IT IS MY HONOR TO FINALLY MEET THE YOUNG LORD OF THE UNDERGROUND! I PLEDGE MY SWORD, AND ALLEGIANCE TO YOU AND YOUR ROYAL FAMILY! AND MY SPAGHETTI. ALSO GOOD MORNING!”

“Hey buddy, aren’tcha supposed to knock or make your-self known before entering?”

“I SHOULD HAVE! SORRY! BUT I AM ON AN URGENT MISSION TO—"

“Deliver spaghetti.” Asriel muttered tiredly, his head drooping.

“ DELIVER SPAGHETTI! YES! ARE YOU A MIND READER?! HOW DID YOU KNOW!”

“Yeah, thanks.” Asriel sighed tiredly, groaning as his shoulder slumped, “Thank you for, ummmm, protecting monsterkind too.”

Why is he being so loud? Doesn’t he know I just came back to life? Geez.

Asriel sighed, sitting up in the bed, brushing his messy hair and fur down. Papyrus stood and proudly declared he had informed all of The Underground of Asriel’s return, and, that HE was the first non-royal to provide nutrition to him. Sans appeared at the door, hands in his pockets, laughing and watching.

“Sup.”

“Howdy, Sans.”

“THERE IS NO TIME TO WASTE! I HAVE ALERTED THE KINGDOM OF YOUR RESURRECTION! COME, MY PRINCE, I MUST GIVE YOU A ROYAL TOUR!”

“Did’ya round everybody up to my mom’s house too?” Asriel mumbled, half wishing he could go back to sleep for a few more minutes.

“I DID!” Papyrus laughed, then paused, thinking, “EXCEPT MY FRIEND! HE IS MISSING! BUT YOU WILL LOVE MEETING HIM!”

“Bro he isn’t comin’.” Sans chuckled, patting his brother’s shoulder, “Come on, lets give Miracle Boy some time to get up.”

Asriel paused, his expression darkening, before he threw his feet to the floor and yawned, rubbing his tried eyes. Asriel stated that his mom was going to make breakfast, so, Papyrus really did not need to go out of his way for him.

“Was she going to make Spaghetti?” Papyrus asked in a voice that was uncharacteristically normal.

“Probably not? Wait. Why are you talking so qui—”

“THEN I SHALL MAKE IT INSTEAD!”

Asriel looked warily towards Sans, who needed, understanding.

“Oooookay, come on.”

“BUT BROTHER!”

“Nah, no butts. Get it? Cause we’re skeletons?”

“THAT IS NOT FUNNY.”

Sans convinced Papyrus to go downstairs so Asriel could wake up. Asriel, meanwhile, sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Papyrus was—something. Adorable, maybe? Loud, for sure. He was very, very loud.

“Hiya, pally! Say, you wanna have some real fun today? I sure do! How about you and I. . .”

_ _

“Fuck.”

He had a headache, but tried to look as presentable as he could, and shifted downstairs, and waited, listening. Just like he used to. Listening to them having fun, talking, and enjoying each other’s company; for a moment, it felt like he was not allowed to be there. Why? He had come back to life days ago; he had seen his mother and father, felt their love. Felt his father holding him like a child, helping him get used to walking again.

But all of a sudden—all of a sudden it felt real. More real than ever before. Like this was normal. Walking downstairs and seeing his family. It made him feel sick.

A normal life. . .

He took one step, then another, and when he had just reached downstairs, he was seized by his parents. They crashed against him, snatching him into their arms, both gripping him tightly. Toriel kissed his cheek, and Asgore kissed his forehead repeatedly.

Asriel felt their breath, their hearts beating: he felt small, and he felt vulnerable, yet secure. There was nothing in life more reassuring, more protective, warmer, and comforting, than the loving hug of your parents. How could he have ever forgotten what this felt like? What it meant? He closed his eyes, leaning into it, feeling their fur against his face. There were some awwws in the background. Asriel nuzzled up into his parents, smiling, opening his eyes slightly.

“Good morning, my sweet child.” Toriel whispered gently, brushing her cheek against him, squeezing his hand in hers. “You should have let me know, so I could help you walk downstairs.

“Good morning, mom.” Asriel whispered, assuring he could walk now on his own.

Asgore’s voice was gentle as he kept his cheek to Asriel’s forehead, rubbing his back soothingly. “We wanted to let you sleep in; seems that fella had other plans.”

“Heh, that’s ok King Dad.” He replied softly, “I didn’t wanna sleep all day again.”

Asgore chuffed, gripping Asriel tighter. “I have not heard that name—in—so long. Heh. I sure forgot what it was like.” His long hair fell over Asriel’s face, gently brushing against his nose; it reminded him of when he was little. They spoke gently, repeating how much they loved each other.

Toriel smiled, touching over her son’s face. She felt his forehead, his cheeks, his ears, then under his neck to make sure he was not running hot, “How do you feel, my child? You were running a fever for so long.”

“I’m ok, now. I think!” Asriel smiled, leaning into his mom’s hand. It felt warm, and soft and he squeezed her into a tight hug, resting his chin on his mother’s shoulder. She rubbed at his back gently, kissing his cheek, and Asriel melted.

“Sorry I, uh, scared you all so much.”

“You do not need to apologize for anything.” Toriel smiled softly. She spoke so warmly, and gently, brushing her hands down his floppy ears, admiring his face, “I am making breakfast. Are you hungry? Do you think you can eat more today?”

“Yeah! I’m really hungry, actually!”

“Go change, and we can eat together. I left you some clothes in the bathroom.”

Asgore held Asriel’s shoulder, squeezing it softly, “Don’t be long now, ok? You always got a little cranky when you were hungry!”

“I won’t; I promise! And I don’t get cranky, dad.”

“Mhm.” Asgore chuckled, nodding with an incredulous look. “See that, Tori? He is already making a fuss.”

“I’m not making a fuss!”

His voice felt childish as he whined. It went against the voice in his head he had grown used to hearing. It made him laugh and feel exhilarated.

The thought of eating his mother’s cooking made him try to rush his time in the bathroom. Asriel could barely recall what it felt like to eat something; to taste, and chew. It was so biological, and yet meaningful; when you no longer had a need to eat it became something like wishful thinking.

He began to brush his teeth, while spraying a daily conditioner and cleaner on his fur with his other hand, brushing it all the way through, starting with his head, and working down. Ariel had forgotten about grooming; it felt like muscle memory, but as a child, he rarely did it a lot. Mom usually helped, or dad, if mom was busy. He cleaned his fluffy tail as well, and paused, looking at his hips, and his legs. Asriel tilted head and grabbed at his butt; why was it kind of round, and felt nice in his hands?

He had defined muscles on his body, things he never knew would actually matter, or be of significance. But there was some kind of appeal to it. Maybe because it was new, or his body.

“Guess I never really thought about if I’d look good?” He whispered with some mild curiosity. “Hmmm. I guess? I’m kind of muscular, like dad.”

He flexed his arms, noticing the biceps; they were not huge, but they were there. There was little sense as to why he came back and seemed to have a perfect form, instead of wounded. Or something gruesome. But there was only white fur over a well-defined body and pink nipples hidden on his chest. Curious eyes trailed down then athletic form, and to his abdomen, past the lean hips, and lower. Asriel looked at it and looked thoroughly. Was he lucky for missing out on all the embarrassing moments of puberty, and growing pains? That weird sense of self-discovery? Stuff like that of course never mattered, even after a few thousand resets.

But this definitely caught his attention.

When he reached to touch at his hanging, slightly pink balls, it immediately felt good. Then he felt at his dick, which suddenly, upon being held, gave him this almost electric feeling! It felt nice, way too nice. Asriel had to let go, and laughed under his breath, glancing nervously to the door.

“Whoa. Ok. Saving that for, uh, later.”

He finished brushing the tonic through, cleaning his hands off and placed everything in the empty cabinet behind the mirror. He stared at him-self, touching his pink nose, and looked over his hands, and began to adjust his hair. He touched at his horns, tapping them, and smirked, preparing to leave.

“ Howdy! ”

“Shit!” Asriel leapt back, stumbling and tripping, catching him-self against the wall.

Knock! Knock!

“Asriel? Sweetheart, are you ok? I heard a thud!”

“Son? What happened!”

“I’m ok! I, um, saw a spider!” He lied swiftly, glancing to the mirror then the door, “I’ll be out in a second!”

With a shiver, he dressed, keeping his eyes on the mirror at all times. Maybe it was a hallucination? There was a thought that filled him with dread; but he dismissed it and got dressed. He wore a black shirt that had a burger with a smiley face, and some cargo pants. It felt strangely fitting on him.

“What do ya think Darlin’? Better than the pajamas?” Asgore smirked.

“Oh, I don’t know. They were quite cute, on him!”

“Hmmm.” Asgore rubbed his chin, “I think you’re right. That shirt is quite silly, for our son.”

“I like cheeseburgers.” Asriel chuckled, pulling the shirt down a bit to look at it.

Frisked snapped their fingers, saying they picked the shirt out from a pile Sans brought over. Asriel thanked them, looking at it with uneasy appreciation. He stood like a young man albeit with an expression slowly morphing into humiliation as his parents adjust his shirt, and his hair, and checked over him.

“Your fur is still so soft.” Toriel noted, glancing over him, holding his face lovingly with a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know this is embarrassing.”

“It’s ok!” Asriel laughed sheepishly, “Just, uh, everyone is here?”

“Well, you just ignore them.” Toriel commanded, making sure her son’s fur was as orderly and presentable as it could be, and admired him for a moment. “You’re just so tall, and I knew you would be, because of your father.”

Asgore held his boy by the shoulders, then gave his arms a squeeze. Asriel was a man now. Asgore had imagined for years what it would have been like for them to watch their children grow, become their own people. But here he was. Standing just up to his chest, and yet when he looked down, he still looked small.

“He grew like the weeds!” Asgore laughed, not even hearing Asriel and flung his arm over the boy’s shoulder, “Must’ve been some good soil you popped out of!”

Frisk added that Asgore came up with it earlier and was anxiously waiting to tell Asriel.

“I sure did!” Asgore replied proudly, not noticing how tight Asriel’s neck became. “Now, how about I fix up some tea! Tori, I’ll get started on it. You need some help?”

“I can manage. Seems Papyrus wants to challenge me.” Toriel raised her eyebrow, flashing Papyrus a determined look and smirk. “He thinks he gets to cook for my son? Not a chance!”

“NYEH! BUT YOU MUST HAVE A ROYAL CHEF!”

“Paps, you can’t be the Royal Guard, and The Chef.” Undyne corrected, leaning her elbow on the table, “Aint happening.”

Asriel smiled, greeting each of the members of the group for the first real time. “Howdy, everyone! It’s nice to mee—"

“MY QUEEN! I WILL PREVAIL!” Papyrus could be heard arguing from the kitchen, “PASTA AND PANCAKES ARE SIMILAR! YES. BUT I WILL PREVAIL!”

“Only one is made by their mother.” Toriel remarked with an increasingly haughty tone.

“Sorry, fella, but you’re not beatin’ the missus.” Asgore pat Papyrus on the shoulder, “You best accept defeat before she embarrasses you.”

“NONSENSE!”

“Meet you!”

He sat at the table with Frisk to his side and personally met each member of the table. Pretending to meet someone for the first time was a little more tedious than he expected. But he kept it as friendly as he could. He shook their hands but felt their eyes on him strongly. They were masking their curiosity, and hesitation. He didn’t blame them, of course. Hell, he felt the same.

“Prince Asriel, um, sorry about being so suspicious. And yelling at you. And stuff.” Undyne shifted in her seat.

“I’d be freaked out too if someone that was dead forever just, uh, magically reappeared!” Asriel flourished and waved his hands, chuckling, “So it is ok!”

They asked him questions about his life, what he liked, and The Kingdom before his passing. It was carefully navigated, with glances from his parents to make sure he was comfortable. The air smelled of butter, syrup, and tomatoes. An odd combination, but everyone was having fun. Frisk showed him videos and memes, and he was even given a phone, which was his first official gift since coming to life! Asriel held it in his hands, smirking, thinking about how strange it was.

Asgore sat the kettle and cups down, with all the supplies needed. He poured his son a cup, adding the prerequisite amount, which was one heaping teaspoon of honey. He watched his son sip the tea, and exhaled, sinking back into his chair with a content smile. It made Asgore proud.

“You want some more tea with that sugar?” Undyne laughed, “You weren’t kidding, Asgore.”

“Aaaaah!” Asriel felt warm, especially in his stomach.

“That’s how my boy always been! But son, you should wait before having so much.”

“Heh. Dad, you know I’m not going to!”

“Well, I tried!”

Asriel sipped the tea and leaned onto his dad’s shoulder, sighing. He was still tired, admitting it was really hard to sleep, and he had a headache. Had one since the day before, too. They were quiet at first, as he enjoyed resting on his dad’s arm, and the others talked to each other idly. Undyne was impatient, as usual.

“So, I gotta ask.” Undyne leaned in, “You see the light or some cool stuff when your dust was everywhere?”

“Uh—"

“ IS MONSTER HEAVEN REAL?!” Alphys blurted out loudly, wanting to document all they could, “Please tell me! Wait, sorry, I’m being pushy! SORRY! G-Good morning, Prince Asriel! Hi!”

“Sorry, but I wish I could tell you guys!” Asriel smirked, never thinking about that, “Um, I don’t remember a lot about that.”

“Well, there are better things to talk about. Ahem.” Asgore interjected immediately. “Like what we’re going to do, today! If you’re up to it, of course. We’re taking you into Snowdin.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Aw come on! We gotta know if Monster Heaven is real! I kinda wanna know if my grandma is there. . .”

“Undyne.”

“Sorry.”

Asgore did not necessarily want to have the conversation about his son’s afterlife, or anything related to his death. Protectively wrapping his arm around the boy, he brought him close, quietly whispering something. But his son whispered back it was ok with him if they asked; it surprised Asgore that his son was so nonchalant about the topic. He and Toriel had spent all morning trying to figure out if they even should ask him these questions.

Curiosity got the better of Alphys, who asked him about waking up underground.

“Well, it was kind of fucking scary.”

“Ah-hach! Asriel!?” Asgore coughed, patting his chest and set his tea down, wiping his mouth, “Young man!”

“Ahem.” Toriel looked over her shoulder at the group.

Asriel flinched and grimaced, feeling suddenly flushed and apologized immediately while his father demanded to know where he learned the language!

* * *

“BEHOLD! THE ROYAL DREEMURR FAMILY!” Papyrus championed them, standing ahead with Undyne.

Asriel was given the Royal Tour by Papyrus, who insisted, quite vociferously, that he be the one to do it. Toriel, and Asgore pretended to be along for the ride. Snow crunched beneath their feet, and the air held a blend of that cold stone and the smell of food from Grillby’s bar. He’d never really been around Snowdin much; his plant body hated the cold, and even if he didn’t care back then, he found it uncomfortable. Feeling the cold now, against his nose, and his fur now made him realize how nice it was to wear actual clothes.

His stomach felt nice being so full of his mother’s cooking. So much butter, and syrup, and love in one sitting had the goat feeling heavy, and happy.

Monsters had poured out from their homes and businesses to wave and greet the family, and it felt like a parade. There were many eyes on him; so many eyes, and so many faces that he had barely ever taken the time to know. Faces of monsters that, now, were his people.

“Your majesties!” Called a voice excitedly rushing to greet them, “Hello, good morning!”

“Ah, good morning, Poro.” Asgore smiled, nodding his head, “It is nice to see you!”

“Oh, my goodness!” Toriel grabbed their hand, squeezing and rubbing it gently, “Please, come meet our son! You know Frisk, of course. Asriel, this is Poro.”

Asriel smiled pleasantly; he knew Poro. They were a Reindeer made from Ectoplasm with a soft teal glow, and a visible skeleton beneath of them. He always thought they looked kind of cool. They were responsible for helping create bio-luminescent lamps from their body.

Asriel smiled at them. He remembered this monster.

“Hi there, Poro!”

“Prince Asriel! Y-your highness! It’s so—wow! It’s so wonderful to meet you! You look just like—oh my goodness. Just like your parents! I mean, of course you do!” Poro trembled as they held Asriel’s hand with reverence, “W-Welcome to Snowdin!”

“Thank you, but you can just call me Asriel. And don’t be so nervous!” He laughed and patted their hand, giving it a squeeze.

They thanked him for the understanding, remarking that, seeing all of them together, and Frisk, that The Dreemurrs were truly a beautiful family. The other monsters who were around, many of them flocking still to see and meet Asriel, agreed.

“I sure appreciate your help in the tunnels!” Asgore gently squeezed the Monster’s shoulder, “Made my drive here much safer!”

“You are welcome, King Asgore!”

Asriel laughed innocently, thanking them, asking if they were the one who made the streetlamps? Poro was taken back, asking how he would have known! Asriel covered by saying they were all the same color as him, and were luminescent too! Asriel said he liked it, since back in the day, Ruins was a dark and lonely place to be. Poro tripped over their words in gratitude.

“King Dad used to take us here, after we moved.” Asriel continued with a pleasant smile.

Poro smirked, saying that name for King Asgore was quite precious. Asgore felt that weakness at his chest, and in his eyes; being called such a silly little thing meant the world to him. He cleared his throat, not wanting to make a scene, but gently kissed the top of his son’s head in a subtle gesture.

Poro departed, and they were ambushed by more monsters, who all wanted to see Asriel for them-selves! So many of them he had to pretend to not know, feigning surprise, or greeting them as if he would anyone else.

“Hello!” One monster gleefully exclaimed, “Prince Asriel!”

“Howdy!”

“He’s so tall! Look at him!”

“He looks so much like his father!”

“No, no! He looks like Toriel!”

Asriel giggled almost childishly, catching him-self and feeling flustered. Pictures were taken, and they were flooded with gifts and food, each monster offering them something that the three of them carried. Though after a few minutes, Papyrus was getting anxious to keep giving him the tour.

They stopped to get ice-ream, and his parents ordered for him, but debated what flavor to get him since butterscotch was not available. Asriel told them he would be fine with whatever they picked! They seemed to really be debating it, talking quietly to each other; it made him think he probably should just let them sort it out. While they waited, Asriel hung back with frisk, and the others.

“So, Asriel,” Undyne leaned back. “What are ya thinkin’ of doing?”

“Oh, you mean since I’m alive again?”

“Yep! You kinda missed out on the self-discovery part of growing up.”

“That is true. This must all be so new to you.” Alphys added encouragingly, wondering how he was handling all of the exposure to the kingdom so immediately.

Asriel stated it was the same as when he was little; protect his kingdom, and his people. He laughed and mentioned Frisk was probably the best fighter he knew, since they’ve won every battle without actually hurting anyone.

“Oh, they told you about that huh?” Undyne sighed hopelessly, “Well, they still owe me a rematch! Come on Frisk, it’s been weeks! Ya scared?”

Frisk flexed their biceps and said they were retired.

“Pacifism is a good virtue.” Toriel mentioned, patting Frisk’s shoulder.

“NYEH! IT DOES WORK BUT I PREFER A LITTLE MORE ACTION!” Papyrus added in, asking Asriel if they knew how to duel, “WE COULD HAVE A ROYAL SPAR, SOMETIME!”

“Not gonna happen, pally!” Asriel chuckled darkly, “I don’t like fighting.”

Frisk punched their hand, and nodded, threatening to fight all of them and then sit the fight out so they would win by default. Frisk then complained about the snow messing up their boots. They hated the snow. And they hated the cold. Frisk was constantly brushing snow off their feet, since it was reaching halfway up their shins.

“Oh hey, wanna hop up?” Asriel motioned for his shoulders. “I don’t mind!”

“Awwww, that’s so sweet!” Alphys giggled, “You’re going to be a great big brother!”

“Heh, already am!”

“Asriel, I wanted to ask! Do you mind coming by my lab, sometime?”

Asriel squatted down and let Frisk sit on their shoulders. “Sure. What for?”

“Just to run routine medical tests! Since we do not know how you came back, or where, we want to ensure you’re healthy!”

“Nah. She wants to make sure you’re not a zombieeeeeee.” Undyne teased.

“No! I mean. Are you? We just need to make sure you’re ok! That’s all!”

Make sure I’m—ok?

For a moment, he hated her; and he hated the excitement, and nervousness that was in her eyes. He hated her for what she did, and what she created. Alphys promised it would not be bothersome; and that promise made him grow suddenly hot with anger. But he blinked, forced a smile, and agreed. They waited around chatting until his parents returned with ice-cream, and everyone else retrieved their orders. Papyrus had his arms crossed, huffing and marching.

“NYEH!”

“Aw what’s wrong.” Asriel teased, biting directly into his ice cream, “He still doesn’t have frozen meatballs?”

“YES! EXACTLY!” Papyrus groaned, throwing his hands up in dismay, “HE PROMISED ME HE WOULD MAKE SOME!”

“Sans bit into his ice-cream, chewing it, “Told ya, we got frozen balls at home.”

“BUT ITS NOT AS NICE IF WE MAKE IT! ALSO, THAT WAS NOT CLEVER, BROTHER.” Papyrus complained.

He devoured the ice cream, tasting a rush of sugar from the flavors of Bubblegum, Cherry, Coconut, Strawberry, Vanilla, and Banana! Asriel said it was a nice day for nice cream, while cleaning the fur around his lips.

“I think he likes it.” Asgore chuckled, ruffling Asriel’s hair.

“Mhm! Thanks mom and dad! You know, I always wondered how he came up with— YEEEOW!”

Asriel screeched as he felt something tug at his hair while Frisk apologized, saying that they had almost fell off his shoulders! Toriel and Asgore lectured them to be careful! Frisk apologized and Asriel huffed while rubbing at his head sorely.

“Geez, Frisk, that hurt!”

He went back to eating his ice-cream but felt Frisk’s grip tighten. Frisk leaned under his ear and whispered discretely.

[CAUTION.]

* * *

“. . . just come back to our lives. You do not need to tell him yet.”

“But I should.”

Toriel whispered something; it was soft, and it was kind. He heard his father sigh heavily.

“If not us, then someone else will.”

“Who, Gorey? No one in this kingdom would do that.” Toriel whispered gently, but with a more serious tone.

“I am just—scared. What if he hates me, for what I have done?”

“He will not hate you.”

Asgore and Toriel exchanged more words, as they discussed his actions, and what happened. Asgore never excused him-self or justified his actions; he merely explained what he had done, and why. The pain he felt. The horror he experienced at finding his son’s lifeless body, or that Chara was gone as well. It broke him.

“Hope died that day, Toriel. I did things I am not proud of—to know humankind did it!”

“Gorey.”

“And now he is back! And I killed—so many innocent humans for nothing!”

_ _

Asriel looked down at his feet, sitting at the top of the stairs. It was late; and his father had stayed, presumably to spend time with Toriel.

He knew she didn’t want him to.

This reminded him of being a child, listening in on his parents’ conversations. Like when they were planning his birthday, or something else that was a surprise. Back then, it made him giddy. Then he died. And then when Flowey listened, he felt nothing. Now, it only made him feel bitter. He knew what his mother would say: he had heard this conversation plenty of times before and quietly mouthed along.

“. . . your mistakes, Asgore. I told you so long ago to forgive mankind.”

“I know that you did.” Asgore whispered. His voice was fragile, “I failed.”

“You did.”

“But he does not need to know, not now. All he needs is for us to know we love him, Gorey. That is all he needs, from us.” Toriel’s voice softened, speaking gently, “Ok? Just—don’t punish your-self.”

_ _

They were quiet for a moment again. Asriel leaned, his elbows on his legs, and his hands together. He could just go down there, right now; tell them what happened. Tell them what he and Chara did; what he caused to happen. And tell them he was always there, too. Maybe it would make his mother finally forgive Asgore; but the thought of her hating him? It made his stomach twist. He could not bear the thought of it.

_ _

“He deserves better from me. . “

“I messed up more than you ever could have, dad. At least you had a better reason than me.”

He stood, and quietly tip-toed back to the room, closing the door for the evening. Maybe when he woke up, he would hate him-self a little bit less.

Summary:

Asriel adjusts to life being alive, spending time with his family, and moving away from the past. However, these things are rooted deep in his soul, and don't want to let go of him just yet...

###

Toriel’s home was ambushed so much that Undyne and Papyrus were posted at the door for several hours a day. It is not that the monsters were pushy, but the Royal Family for now needed privacy. The citizens were curious and talked amongst them-selves about not just Asriel’s return, but a Monster returning from the dead. After so long? They would leave messages with Undyne and Papyrus in the afternoon. And when Asgore was seen, in the morning, some early-bird monsters would also try to ask him questions, greet him, or be generally pleasant.

Some were not as understanding.

“They’re adjusting.” Undyne remarked very sternly to a photographer from New Home, “They need time; got it? You’ll see The Prince eventually. Now go.”

“But when!?” The pushy fireball asked, holding a pen and notepad, “Tell us!”

“When they’re ready, Monster!” Undyne groaned.

“Damn! Well, is he as cute as they say?”

“Excuse me?”

Undyne groaned, their shoulders slumping; they did not enjoy being posted like this and dealing with the press.

“The people deserve to know! Is it true he is a Zombie?”

“Ugh! No! He is not a zombie!”

“THE ROYAL FAMILY IS NOT ANSWERING QUESTIONS!” Papyrus moved between Undyne and the reporter, “NO QUESTIONS! FIFTEEN FEET! I NO CAMERAS!”

“I don’t have a camera.”

“NYEH!” Papyrus drew his sword, which was not sharpened, but held it at the fireball who threw their hands up and stormed away.

One of the adjustments came in the morning when Asriel bumped his horns against the doorway as he got up one morning. He mentioned as much to his mother as a joke, helping her set up for the morning while complaining about how much it hurt! Asriel took a bowl from the cabinet, setting it down along with her measuring cups. Toriel thanked him, watching for a moment: then her smiled faded, and she turned her eyes away.

“Mom? Is something wrong?”

She looked upset. He rushed to ask what he had done; but she said nothing. It just hit her, all of a sudden. The realization that she had missed out on her son’s entire life.

“It hurts, my child, in a way you might not understand. But it is not your fault.”

Except, he did understand exactly. . .

* * *

One week passed since his resurrection; and not an ounce of the miracle had worn off. Every time he saw them, every time they saw him, it was like the first day over and over. At times he found himself stuck between watching them, like he was not allowed to be a part of it. Like before, how he was always at a distance, observing them; and back then, Flowey would mock it. Or Flowey would be indifferent to it all; and just let everything die. Asriel grimaced, shutting his eyes when those bitter, miserable memories return to him. He wished he could just erase them.

He felt numb, occasionally; other times he felt things so strongly that the intensity scared him. Joy. Hope. He saw it in his mother’s and father’s eyes; and something about that, too, scared him. What if they lost it, again? What if something happened that ruined all of this? What would they do? Would he ever have a chance to come back after a thousand worlds?

I can’t. I can’t let anything happen. Ever again.

Asriel wanted to resume his life as if nothing happened; he wanted to bury all of it behind him. He did not want to know how he even came back; at least, not now. And he did not want to dwell on the past; if there was anything he could learn from the past it was to cherish every single moment. The moments when his mother woke him in the morning, gently nudging his shoulder, rubbing his forehead like he was a child. The moments when they ate breakfast or lunch with his father, who masked the anxiety of their separation but did the three-hour drive daily.

The moments where they would play a family game and eat dinner together. Asriel almost cried when he tasted his mother’s cooking the very first evening, he was alive. It felt like the food went right to his soul.

And he never wanted to be bored ever again.

“. . .ok! And mom, you want the daisies by the left window?”

“Hmmm. What do you think, my children?” Toriel put their hand on Frisk’s shoulder and reached behind to hold her son by the head.

She was so happy today; she was singing in the morning, as she made breakfast, and spent time with them. Asgore surprised the family when he arrived that morning with the back of his truck loaded with gardening supplies. He forced him-self to smile through the smell of plants, and soil.

“Well, it’s your house!” Asriel leaned onto her shoulder, “so you pick.”

“It is our home, Asriel.” Toriel smiled, correcting him with a gentle caress to his cheek. “We can make the decision together.”

“I know.” He encouraged, “You know me, mom. I’ll just plant them anywhere! Heh, I’m not good at decorating. You and dad used to say that.”

“Well, yes.” Toriel nodded, smirking, “You were never quite good with your room.”

“Nope!”

“Frisk?”

Frisk suggested they pick too. It was, after all, more of a gift to Toriel than to them-selves and they all wanted their mother’s yard to look happier now.

Toriel tapped her chin, holding onto her hip as she examined. The inside of the home was warm, inviting, modern and simple. But the outside was cold, and isolated like Ruins. She studied the yard with Asriel, and Frisk humorously observed them both making the same expression. The way Toriel pulled her lips to the side and shifted her brow? Asriel did the same thing. He was this adorable assimilation of both his parents.

“I think they would look good on the left. Perhaps the Hystrangeas can go on the right?”

“I knew mom would like them on the right!” Asriel championed, then pointed to his chest with his thumb, “Sooooo, that means you have to do the digging! I’ll do the planting!”

Frisk demanded to know when Asriel decided these terms and conditions.

“I’m the first born and you are the little sibling.”

“You two should plant them together.” Toriel smirked, glancing to Asriel, “Even if you’re very happy you won, sweetheart.”

Frisk stepped forward.

_ _

[PACIFISM.]

❤️ [CHALLENGE.]

While Asriel knew more about gardening than Frisk, he was not pushy. He had never been one to tease someone before, but after living a few thousand lifetimes, he picked up some personality traits along the way.

“Heh, ok, I got an idea! Easy game.” Asriel smirked and picked up a ball, tossing it up and down in his hand, “If you can throw this over the house, you get to plant them.”

Frisk asked if they were serious.

“Go ahead.” Asriel leaned down, locking eyes with Frisk, his voice darkening as he spoke tauntingly. “See if you can beat me.”

❤️ [DETERMINATION.]

Frisk nodded once, knowing they could do it easily and took the ball from him. As they reared their hand back and launched it! There was a loud rubber THWACK as Asriel side-swiped it midair, knocking it to the side. Frisk accused them of cheating! Asriel began giggling then laughing loudly; suddenly rushing away as Frisk chased and then latched onto him and tried to tackle him to the ground. They fought hard, tickling at Asriel’s mid-section, making him laugh and shriek outrageously.

“F-Frisk! Sto—hahaaa-haha-aaap! Pfft-aaaaaa-sstaaa-haaap!”

“It feels as if they have always known one another.” Toriel mentioned to Asgore, not taking her eyes off them. Asriel’s fluffy tail was wiggling and he was laughing constantly; that laugh was so pure, so sweet. It filled her heart with an absolute pure love, and she touched her chest, “He loves them so much already.”

“He sure does.” Asgore mentioned, hoisting steppingstones from the back of the truck with a chuckle, “Call me crazy, Tori, but it feels like nothin’ changed. Well, except for him bein’ so tall.”

“I know you are proud of that.” Toriel gave him a knowing look.

“Sure am!”

Asriel fought to get Frisk off them, and scamper away. He had dirt all over his clothes and fur, but did not notice, or even care! Frisk chased after Asriel who began hopping up the side of the stone wall by his mother’s house. He teased Frisk, catching his breath; Frisk studied the wall, touching it with their hand.

“Haha! Frisk, you’re not getting m—what. Wait. HOW?!”

Frisk locked eyes with Asriel. With their hands in their pockets, they began to walk up the wall at a perfect 92° angle. . .

Toriel giggled, looking over with a fond smile. “Last night, those two ate an entire chocolate pie together. They pretended to not know what happened when I asked, this morning.”

“That boy was never good at hiding things.” Asgore chuckled, then paused, “Did he try making another one?”

“It is ok, for now. As long as they are both happy.” Toriel smiled, keeping her hands together, then assured Asgore that she discarded it before anyone else could eat one.

Asgore sighed in relief.

Their son had more sass than they remembered, and he took on the role of an older sibling so fast, and it made Asgore proud. The two stopped eventually, digging together while having their own conversation. Frisk showed him something on their phone as they pulled up the weeds, and Asriel snickered, and then did the same. Frisk stared at Asriel’s phone, then began laughing about something in reference to Papyrus.

“I was worried, at first.”

“About what, Gorey?”

“Well.” Asgore shifted, “That he might be disappointed with us. With me.”

Toriel nodded, looking down, then to her children. Her failures haunted her: Chara’s sickness, Asriel’s murder. The way she had failed to protect them from the dangers of the world. Toriel never said it out loud, because it was her own burden; but she, for a long time, truly believed she was a failure of a mother, and protector. She could not even convince Frisk to stay, at first, though in the end, Frisk’s bravery, and determination, persevered. But it stayed in the back of her mind.

“Me too, Gorey.”

“Tori?”

“I failed our children. As much as you think you did, as well.”

“But—!”

“We both, in a lot of ways, failed.” She sighed softly, touching her hands together with a remorseful look, “So, I understand how you feel. But I have made peace with that.”

Toriel thought finally she could have redemption, with Frisk. She could take care of one child, nurture them, protect them. Raise them and love them. Asgore assured her that, under no uncertain terms, was she a failure. She was the best mother any child ever could have hoped for. It made her smile, but she only half-believed it; she told him this time, they would need to try even harder. Asgore took it as an invitation, stepping closer, and agreed with her.

“We’ll just need to keep them chained in the house.”

“Gorey!”

“Only way to keep them out of mischief, Tori! Now, I know you’re gonna fuss, but I can get bars on these windows—next week?”

“Oh, stop that.”

“Then I’m thinkin’ I could run about seven feet of chain! That way they can’t be running around getting up to anything!”

“Gorey!”

“Well? It’s the only way to keep an eye on them!”

“I suppose you’re right!”

Toriel laughed, covering her mouth, and Asgore described all the ways he could prevent the children from every wandering off. Locks, tracking devices. They heard him laugh again and watched. It was as if he’d forgotten how he died; they had not. When they looked at him, they remembered the state of his clothes. But Asriel seemed to pretend it never happened.

“He’s doin’ it for our sake.” Said Asgore with a confident nod, “He’s had this—look. It worried me.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“But I’m never askin’ him about it. If he wants to move on from that, then, that’s what we’ll do. Right, Tori?”

Toriel nodded, agreeing that they would never bring it up. Not unless he wanted.

Her son was here as if time had passed naturally; but it had not. She felt it in her chest; something was so different about all of this. She felt wrong for even judging or questioning it, for doubting the miracle of having her son back in her life. She looked to Asgore for support and admitted that this all confused him as well. Neither wanted to think deeper about it, but as parents, they noticed things.

Asriel had not changed, at least, not noticeably. He had the same laugh now as he did before: had the same smile, and the same look in his eyes. The way he looked at them felt the same. The way he said I love you was also the same. His fur smelled the same even down to the silly way he played with his food at dinner.

And yet there was more confidence, sarcasm and wit, instead of just a timid, nervous boy. Asriel teased, cocked his eyebrow, laughed at or made jokes whose maturity kept them somewhat surprised. Asgore blamed this newfound attitude entirely on Toriel, who smugly took some credit for her son’s independence. She wondered if maybe it was just his age that made him turn into his mother?

“Sure seems like it.” Asgore chuckled, crossing his arms, “That little prank he pulled? He was gosh darn proud of him-self!”

Earlier in the morning, Toriel was baking. And Asriel was demanding to help, even if both parents were incredibly weary about letting him be in the kitchen. Given his history, they knew better. Frisk knew too. But it was a family moment, so they all participated. It is unknown what came over Asriel; but he had this look in his eye that only Frisk noticed. Asriel struggled to lift a bowl of flour, straining and fighting to pick it up. It could not have been more than three cups. Toriel knew instantly what was about to happen and pretended to be distracted.

Asgore, the more naïve parent, did not anticipate. He walked over while rolling up his sleeves, grasped, and yanked the bowl from the counter.

POOF!

Asriel was on his knees, holding his stomach, and crying from laughing so hard as his father stood in the kitchen covered in flour. Frisk was unable to hold back and snapped a photo before laughing too.

“Hmmph.”

“Oh Gorey, stop pouting!”

“I aint ever had that boy trick me.”

“You only have your-self to blame.” Toriel mentioned, glancing over, “You really didn’t notice?”

“No? Notice what? The flour?”

“Gorey.”

“What?” Asgore blinked innocently, “What are ya talkin’ about Tori?”

“Are you—oh my goodness.” Toriel laughed at his cluelessness, which embarrassed Asgore. “He and Frisk were planning that for twenty minutes! Right at the table!”

“A-bwuh!? Tori! They were both conspirin’ against me!?”

She gestured to the two, side-eyeing Asgore who’d failed to even notice the way that the two had united to prank him. Asgore was dumbfounded he did not even notice it happening right under his nose! He asked Toriel why she didn’t warn him. Toriel smirked.

“Sounds like someone is just being a sore loser.”

“Well golly, Tori, thanks for the support.”

Asriel was never much of a prankster as a child; he always chickened out or started laughing and gave him-self away. You could not even get the boy to keep a secret. When he bought someone a gift, he would struggle to not tell them what he’d done, or what it was. Asgore admitted, though, it did give him a sense of pride that he could finally pull one over on him. Toriel, however, was too scary to prank.

Asriel and Frisk had planned something, but his mother gave them a soft, warm smile while her eyes told them “No” without even saying it.

He had not seen that look in his wife’s eyes in so long. Asgore watched her as she watched their children. There was something so beautiful about how calm she was, and the soft smile at her lips. It made his chest warm, and it made him love her so much more than he already did. His children were laughing, still having fun and chasing each other across the yard like nothing had ever changed. They stopped, and Asriel grabbed Frisk’s hand, then yanked them up while spinning so Frisk could land on their shoulders.

Asgore chuckled with a soft smile, glancing back to Toriel, shifting to take a step closer.

“Say, Tori? I was thinki—"

“Oh, Jodey!” Toriel smiled brightly and stood up, skipping to hug her friend. “I’m so glad you came by. Asriel, my child, come here for a moment, please!”

Toriel’s friend was just a singular block of ice that floated in the air, melted and turned to steam, but also seemed to resolidify. She had no visible limbs, but Asriel could see the outline of her hand was, from her soul’s light. She introduced her-self as Jodey Froster, one of his mother’s best friends from Snowdin.

He blinked, remembering the time she was scorched alive but dawned a pleasant smile.

“Howdy! It’s ice to meet you!” Asriel wiped his hands off on the gardening apron, shaking her hand.

“Oh, he’s just so adorable, Tori! Prince Asriel it is so wonderful to meet you! Gosh, look at you! He really is so handsome just like you said, Tori.”

Asriel let out a bashful laugh as the monster commented on his eyes, and his smile. She said he was the spitting image more of his mother, than his father, which made Asgore grunt from afar. He had grown accustomed to this and actually liked it; appreciating having a real body helped him adjust to being alive. And, it made his parents smile, which was enough for Asriel.

“Prince Asriel, has your mother told you about our little club? I’m sorry, Tori, I’m just so excited! I got news!”

“Mom said everyone was publishing books to humans. That’s super neat, but how are you going to do that?”

“Your mother has her ways.” Toriel smirked, holding her hips proudly, “Nothing a few false identities can’t fix until we fully integrate with mankind!”

“For now, we’re operating through social media!” Jodey pulled out her phone from seemingly nowhere, showing him their pages and profiles, “See? It’s not too hard, actually!”

Asriel nodded, crossing his arms, asking how they were getting the books even up there? He was also wondering how he never noticed his mother was doing something like. Was he really that busy being terrible that he just—did not know his own mother’s life, before?

“Using that clever little Scientist’s drones for easy, anonymous shipment!” Jodey confirmed.

“Oh, Alphys is helping you?”

“She is! She’s wonderful, have you had a chance to meet her, yet?”

“I have.”

“We have to be careful that no one trips and falls in while trying to find our company. We are distributing under the name Dreamer Publishing.”

Asriel snickered and smirked with an approving nod. “I like that name. Seems like you all got it figured out?”

“Girls just get it done. Isn’t that right, Tori?” Jodey concurred.

Asriel watched the two women high-five each other, smirking. They acted giddy and excited, talking about the books they were all working on; a romance novel, a noir-thriller, and one that was a mystery novel! This was based off some of the writings of Tim Foil, a local monster who was a well-known conspiracy theorist. Toriel had a bit of a sour look but hid it with a smile.

“Well, let’s make sure to put a note in it. Give him some credit. Have you heard from him? He’s not returned my call!”

Toriel hummed, thinking about it, “He stopped by last month, but as usual, Papyrus chased him away! He had something, uh—hmm. I think he wanted to ask me about food dye causing disease. And some time-travel business.”

“Time Travel?” Jodey guffawed as Toriel checked her phone, adjusting her glasses, “What in the world was he talking about?”

“Time Travel?” Asriel cocked his eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Well, it was something about Frisk, actually. He said something about having proof!”

They all glanced over to Frisk, who was on their phone, while doing a handstand while Asgore delicately put a pot of flowers on their feet. Frisk walked it across the yard with ease. Asriel’s jaw tensed, and he locked eyes with Frisk, who looked at him unsurely for a moment. He motioned towards his phone, and Frisk nodded, getting the hint.

Time Travel, huh? Alphys—what did you do?

“Hmmmm, that is suspicious.” Jodey mockingly stated, “He really thought that?”

“Well, he sure seemed convinced on the phone. I’m worried he has too much free time on his hands. He does need a hobby, or perhaps someone to talk to.”

“Between you and me, I think it because Calisto left him.”

“Oh Jodey, shush!”

“You saw how he was!”

Asriel glanced to Jodey with an almost serious expression, then backed to his mother. He felt a darkness in his chests, speaking without really thinking.

“He said Frisk could time travel?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, my child. He was just, hmmm, a very eccentric monster.” Toriel giggled, putting her phone away, “He said all kinds of things.”

“What else?”

Jodey sighed, looking up and thinking. “Let’s see. Uuuuh, he said humans invented werewolves, which of course Luanna took offense to.”

“Mhm.” Toriel nodded in agreement.

“He also said aliens were real and lived above us. Uh, oh, he also thought your father was involved in some zombie business. Bringing monsters back from the dead, and all that.”

Jodey laughed loudly at the absurdity, as did Toriel and they glanced to Asgore who smiled and waved back at them. Asriel clenched his teeth slightly, then released, and exhaled slowly.

Why don’t I know who this is. . .

“Say! What does he look like?” Asriel asked affably with a smile, “I could go say hi to him! Heh, maybe seeing me might give him something real to write about!”

“That might be kind of hard, Prince Asriel.” Jodey tilted while talking, “See, he vanished. I’d say about a month ago?”

“Sweetheart don’t worry too much. He was just having fun.”

Asriel smiled and nodded pleasantly as his mom grabbed his shoulder assuringly.

“Oh! Tori I actually stopped by to tell you we had several orders come through just this morning.”

“How many?!”

Jodey checked her phone, scolding her-self for forgetting the number, “Let’s see—it’s—forty-eight!”

“Fourty-Eight?!” Toriel nearly bounced in place almost girlishly. “Wonderful! Oh, my gosh! What books did they order? And why didn’t my phone tell me. . .”

“Mom your phone is on silent, again.” Asriel snickered.

Toriel squinted her eyes, pulling up her glasses as she looked at her phone, fiddling with it for a second. Asriel gently showed her how to take it off do not disturb and begged her to just use the volume buttons on the side.

“Here. These ones, mom.”

“Ooooh. So do I just—oh, ok. Hold it down?”

“No, no. That mutes the phone.” Asriel motioned with his hand, “Just tap it, like the remote.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Oh, Asriel, tonight—I want to show you a book I wrote. It was based—well, it was about you.”

“About me?”

Toriel smiled and nodded, saying she wanted to keep it a surprise for later tonight.

The two women began to discuss the books that they were working on, and others that they were reading. Asriel smirked and looked over to his dad, who seemed like he needed some help. Asgore heaved several large bags of soil over his shoulders with ease, his biceps flexing, and then grabbed an arm full of the wrapped-up plants. Asriel excused him-self politely, giving his mother a hug and rushed to his dad’s side. Asgore hauled several heavy bags of rocks onto his shoulders with ease; despite how impossibly heavy they were, his father made it look easy.

His muscles were tight at his biceps and his chest, and he shook his head to move his hair move out of the way. Asriel admired it because he had forgotten by comparison how strong his dad really was. For a moment he felt envious, because Asgore’s natural brawn contrasted with his leaner body. His father handled it all effortlessly.

Asriel grabbed one of the bags off his father’s shoulders, tossing it over his own, then grabbed another.

“Need some help, son?”

“I got it, dad!”

Asgore was about to catch the bag, not expecting Asriel to very easily toss one over each shoulder. The boy stood tall and proud as he carried them with ease, keeping up with him as they unloaded the supplies, walking back to the truck. Frisk meanwhile raked and cleared the area, measuring and flagging the space between each plant per the instructions Asgore left.

Asriel tossed a bag of soil over each shoulder, then grabbed a bag of mulch under one arm, and some straw under the other.

“Well golly, be a show-off why dontcha!”

“Heh! They’re not thaaaaat heavy!”

“You sure about that?” Asgore chuckled, watching his son strain to carry them.

The siblings began working with unwrapping the Hystrangeas from their pots, and Asriel showed Frisk how to fan out the roots from the soil, and how to mix the potted soil with the ground’s. The two talked about what colors to make them, but Asriel did not actually know how to do that, so he yelled for his dad to come help. Asgore had gone back to the truck to get more of the supplies, listening in on Toriel’s conversation. It did make him jealous. Writing deeply passionate, romantic novels like that?

He wondered if they were ever inspired by the two of them.

“. . .when Shianne is swooned by Ronfulfr, oh my goodness.” Jodey sighed, making a clink sound as if patting her chest, “Oh Tori, this Chapter? Mmmm-mm. Just what the doctor ordered.”

“Verine said she was going to have it ready soon.” Toriel giggled girlishly, clapping the tip of her fingers together, “Oooooh I am so excited!”

“Daaaaad! How do you to make them change color? I don’t remember!” Asriel yelled.

Asgore was too busy eavesdropping on the two women to notice. He leaned over on the truck, listening, trying to hear what they were saying about this Rondulfr Fella. They seemed way too into him; especially Toriel. She was completely swooned by a fictional man? He thought it was just her playing silly, or something else; maybe she really did fancy him?

“King Daaaaaaaaaad! Hey! Daaaaaaaaaaaa—"

“Gosh darn, give me a second!”

“Ok. One. Daaaaaaad!”

Asgore crouched down and gave them the full explanation for how it worked; he kept it simple and made the suggestion they could pick which ones they wanted to work on. They had planted four, so, that worked out one a piece! At the front, Asgore had a brief conversation with Toriel about something in the yard. He seemed to try and pull her away from Jodey Froster, but Toriel gently waved him away, and Asgore nodded.

The two women continued speaking for a few more minutes, before Toriel joined the children happily. They each planted their Hystrangea, with Asgore and Toriel’s plants on the furthest sides from each other. White, glistening rocks were scattered, with broken crystal fragments, that let the garden have a soft, visible, and delicate glow so no monsters would trip over them.

“Now it’ll take ‘em a few months to root out. So, come fall, I bet they’ll be ready.”

“Aw, that long?” Asriel huffed, crossing his arms. “I forgot how long it takes.”

Asriel stared at the ground. He could smell it. Roots, earth, mulch, the metallic aroma of unearthed rocks and sand. It made him wince. It made him feel sick actually. He tried his best to not get any of it on his fur.

“Well, just be a little patient, and they’ll look great!”

Frisk looked over the graph of colors for their Hystrangea.

[HOT PINK.]

[PURPLE.]

Asriel picked Purple, too while Asgore chose Deep Blue, and Toriel wanted hers to be Super White with Pink. They were excited to see what they would look like in six months, discussing the joy it would be to watch them grow. Asriel considered how it would be to do that; all the while trying to avoid the smell of the earth. He was ready to move onto planting the Wiscaria, which for him would be easier. All he had to do was interlace the vines with the lattice his father had set up.

He rushed to the truck, grabbed all the plants Asgore had brought, while Frisk helped, and carried, and began to set them up along the walls behind Toriel’s home. Asgore had set up a length of lattice to allow the plants to anchor, and so they wouldn’t spook any monsters.

“I’m thinkin’, for your mother, I want to do some roses along the front.” Asgore gestured with his hand, now switching into Business Owner mode, “I got Alphys workin’ on something special!”

“Oh yeah?”

Asgore nodded proudly, “They’re makin’ a special rose breed for Tori. Like them Echo Flowers.”

“Aw, Dad, that’s really nice. I think mom would like that.”

“Well, I sure hope so.”

The caveat for these flowers however was that they would be locked between certain voices. So, only Asgore, and Toriel, could speak to each other between then. Leaving messages just for the sake of it, though the old goat’s hopeful eyes and soft smile told them it was another attempt to swoon her. It made him glance to his mother, and Asriel felt somewhat hopeful that, maybe, she might take his father back.

It’s only fair, to dad, to at least give him a chance, mom. . .

“Well, you two get started on the Wiscaria! I gotta get the front part done! See what your mother wants me to do about them awful hedges.” Asgore held his hips, shaking his head, his bright blue eyes scanning along them, “They look pitiful.”

“Ok, King Dad! Here, I gotcha, Frisk.”

Asriel leaned down so Frisk could straddle his shoulders and stood back up. Frisk hammered back in one of the planks and commented how fun this was. They had never gardened before, and always thought it was something that grandparents did. Asriel assisted with gently placing and running the Wiscaria vines along the lattice work, careful to delicately enlace them.

“Heh, it is really fun. Me and dad, mom, Chara did it a few times.” Asriel smiled fondly, thinking about it, but it was bittersweet, “But um, anyways. Let’s go see what else they need help with!”

The family continued working for the next two hours before stopping to take a lunch break; it was still early in the day, but they had been outside for hours now. They decided on what to eat, and the two agreed on pizza, while the parents had no preference. The two siblings looked at each other, then to the shower and bolted. Asriel fought against Frisk who was trying to close the door and squeeze into the bathroom. He pulled, tugged, while Frisk struggled.

“No—agh—wait—wait! Dangit! Come ooooon, my fur is dirty!”

Suddenly, Asriel began cackling loudly as he felt fingers wiggling at his stomach and lost all the weight he had against the door. Frisk closed the door, locking it immediately and laughed wildly on the other side. They said this is what Asriel got for cheating, earlier!

“Mom!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Frisk won.” Toriel giggled, “Just use the sink.”

He huffed and spun around, cleaning off what he could at the sink while Frisk mockingly sang about how nice the shower was. It made him laugh under his breath. His parents were on the couch talking quietly, but he could not really hear it. I was nice to not know, actually.

He liked having no idea what was going to happen, next.

As he dried his hands off, he looked up, looking out the window at the work they had done. Something was moving around in the dirt, and he thought maybe it was a rat, or a large bug? But then it emerged, slowly. Shaking off the dirty, and wobbling in place, then turned his face to look at Asriel. Flowey tilted his head, look at Asriel with the most hollow, frightening gaze he had ever see. The gaze was so dark, so haunting, so cold and empty.

“Heeeeeey, buddy!”

_ _

Asriel looked over to his mom, and dad, and Frisk. None of them heard him. They did not even seem to react to Flowey speaking. He felt his breath catching, as he turned to look back out the window. Flowey waved, giggling and covering his mouth as he looked around. He popped up closer from the soil, staring menacingly up at the window.

“Say, why don’t you tell ‘em to come outside? I wanna say hello to mom and dad!” Flowey grinned widely, his eyes flaring and his body trembling, as he looked around. He studied the gardening they had done, brushing where his chin would be as if he were thinking.

“You coulda’ asked me for some help! I know a thing or two about flowers. But it looks fine, I guess.”

Asriel gripped the edge of the sink, his neck tightening. There was no way he could be right there. But he could hear him, he could see and smell the stems, and the dirt, as that flower shuffled around. It got closer to the window and then shot up like a sunflower, stretching and sighing. He mentioned being tall was kind of fun!

“Remember the time ‘we’ helped dad garden? That was fun.”

Shut up. . .

“And he was real sad.” Flowey mentioned with a mocking face.

Shut up. . .

“Then, well, heh, we buried him beneath those roses he liked so much. That was rough, huh? We sure felt bad about it! But someone had to put the poor guy out of his misery, for sure!”

Asriel shuddered, tightening his grip of the sink. The images, and memories flashed through his mind and across his eyes. In a single second he was forced to relive what Flowey had done to his family. It made him sick.

He leaned over, feeling his mouth tasting like iron. He was beginning to drool, like he could puke any second.

“Then, we reset the world and all that. But oh buddy—I don’t know what came over us! We did it again! Hah! We killed mom and dad again. And again. And again, Asriel. And again. . .and again, Asriel.”

Flowey locked eyes with Asriel, as if forcing him to look back at him.

“Hey! Asriel! Are you listening?! I know you can hear me!”

Asriel closed his eyes, shaking his head. He tried to block it out; he had to ignore him. Flowey was dead! He knew he was. His body was destroyed, and he had no face. Whatever he was? It was gone. It did not exist. Asriel existed.

“You’re not real.” He whispered.

“You know they’re gonna hate you forever when they find out, right?” Flowey laughed manically and loudly. His voice echoed across the yard, then it quieted down. His smiled was frozen on his face, and his eyes darkened into they were a black voice. Asriel felt his skin growing colder by the second.

“Oh hey mom!”

Toriel appeared beside her son, tapping his shoulder. Asriel flinched and yelped in alarm and Toriel rushed to hold his shoulders, “Oh! Sweetheart, what is wrong?! Are you ok?!”

“Asriel?” Asgore moved up from the chair, “Son, what is wrong?”

“O-Oh. Sorry. Sorry, just uh, thinking about gardening. And, um, stuff.” Asriel’s voice broke as he stammered, shaking his head and laughing, looking away from the window. He brushed his hair back, his eyes flicking to the window before gripping his hands to keep him-self still, “Just got lost in thought! I’m really hungry, too! Dad says I get cranky, you know? Heh, so that’s why!”

“Well let’s get this boy some food before he floats away.” Asgore sighed in relief, “Gosh, son, you scared your mother!”

“S-Sorry mom!”

“That is ok, sweetheart.” Toriel kissed him on the forehead, “You do look a little tired. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I am, promise! Just hungry! Aaaaand cranky! Right, dad?”

Asgore chuckled, patting Asriel on the shoulder as he called the local pizza place in Snowdin, while Toriel talked about the book-club meeting she had planned tomorrow. She really wanted him to come since he had yet to meet her close friends. When Frisk was finally out of their shower Asriel hoped in to clean his fur and left the door open to air out the humidity.

“Geez, Frisk. You use all the hot water?”

Frisk did not tolerate being dirty and said they had to cleanse.

“Uh-huh. Dad is ordering pizza. Oh! Dad! Hey!” Asriel called out as he took off his shirt, “Can I get a mini-chocolate pizza too?”

Frisk gagged and scrunched their face at the thought: chocolate pizza?

“It’s really good! Hehe, mom, tell Frisk it’s good.”

“It’s very good Frisk.” Toriel echoed with a gentle giggle, then whispered something to Frisk, who nodded and agreed. They both looked at him, twittering under their breath, and Asriel held his hips with a pout.

“What? What did you say?”

“Nothing, my child. You go clean up.”

“Uh-huh. Suuuure.”

He exhaled and took of his clothes, keeping his eyes to the floor. Him and his family did not shower every day; it dried out their skin, and it was horrible for their fur! But sometimes it was nice. He sighed and rolled his head back, closing his eyes as the hot water began rushing over him. Just like that night, when his mother took him to the bath, and he could barely stay conscious.

He placed his hands on the wall, dipping his head down.

* * *

Asriel rocked his head, half listening to music and half talking to Frisk to distract him-self. Back then, he could listen to anything and feel nothing. And now he got to feel that adrenaline rush of self-discovery and the thrill of making a song his entire personality. Everyone in the group chat had spammed him with suggestions; so far, he found he liked everything except screamo music. It was too aggressive, but the clean vocals usually were really nice.

The Dreemurrs took their afternoon nap after lunch. Always a family ritual for them; in fact, some days, there was a nap after each meal. It really depended on how lazy they wanted to be. Frisk rolled over, asking them if they were going to actually sleep, or just keep listening to music.

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.”

Frisk cocked their brow, telling him they knew he was sleep deprived and was wondering why he wouldn’t try getting a nap in. Asriel ignored them for a moment, his eyes stuck to the phone. He didn’t want to bother Frisk with it but felt them watching him intensely. It reminded him of Chara. They didn’t let him hide his feelings either.

Asking again what was on his mind, Frisk sat up. They weren’t demanding. But they sounded concerned.

“Mom and dad had a lot of fun today.” Asriel mumbled quietly, “Heh, I think they really needed it. I know me coming back has been—a lot.”

[SUPPORT.]

Asriel lamented that he could see how happy they were, but also stressed, and anxious. His dad was trying so hard to win back his mom, and Toriel was overwhelmed everything. Additionally hiding her conversations with Sans was unfair. He felt bad about that, too. It’s like him coming back had uprooted the lives they were living

“Last thing mom and dad need, right now, is me hallucinating.” His voice was muffled as he talked into the pillow.

[PITY PARTY.]

_ _

“It’s not self-pity.” Asriel argued, huffing and rolling his head to the side, “It’s the truth.”

Between the hushed conversation, they heard his mother snoring in the next room. She was the loudest sleeper in the house, yet somehow the lightest. Frisk knew something else was going on. While Asriel was in the bathroom, they overheard Toriel and Asgore talking about his little startle at the sink. The parents were taking everything serious, and so naturally, their son jumping was alarming. What did he have to be scared of?

Asriel did not respond at first. He tensed up, and his eyes looked guilty. Frisk did not pressure him but encouraged him. Sitting up, the prince looked around the room, then to the window, resting forward with his elbows on his legs.

“I just keep—seeing him. And I know it’s not him! But he’s so angry, and fucking evil. He’s so evil, Frisk! A-And he was outside the window, messing with me. What if I go to sleep and he comes out? Hurts you? Or our mom and dad?”

Asriel shuddered with dread at the thought, “I wouldn’t let that happen, but I just don’t know what to do. I just want to forget about him. About—everything.”

Frisk nodded, looking down, thinking. Asriel said out loud he did not even know if he deserved it. Frisk said this was a dumb thing to say.

“I just want to move on, and be normal, and happy. That’s it! You know? I-I think that’s not a bad thing to want!”

Frisk suggested that they could go check his grave just to make sure nothing happened. And they could check it every single day if they need to. Anything to help him. Asriel’s eyes were baggy, and he looked worn; their parents noticed it too. He felt bad for them already having to worry about him since he came back to life. It was not fair.

“And Alphys really wants to do those tests, and—I’m scared. Because they’re going to find out, eventually.” Asriel muttered pitifully, “And everyone is going to hate me, like they should.”

Frisk shuffled to sit beside him, and Asriel leaned over, taking a huge from them. Frisk said that no matter what happens, his family was not turning their back on him. And Frisk wasn’t going to let anything happen to their older brother, too! They mentioned they beat their mom, dad, Asriel, Flowey, Undyne, Sans, Mettaton AND The Great Papyrus in battle; they could defeat a family intervention, too!

“Ok. But, if I start going crazy, don’t hold back this time!”

Frisk promised they wouldn’t, striking some kind of fighting stance. They then performed a strange gymnastic maneuver, back-flipping gracefully onto the bed. They shifted under the covers, and Asriel watched with amusement and a halfhearted laugh. He felt a little bit better, but still not enough to try and go to sleep. When he closed his eyes, he saw things. And it made his stomach twist.

With a huff he quietly tiptoed and downstairs; he could just get some tea, or coffee. He could stave it off for a few hours, and last until the night.

“Oh. Hey dad, you’re awake?”

“Well, howdy, son. Yeah, I got a little caught up with somethin’.”

“Oh, with what?”

Asgore was sitting at the couch and Asriel peered over, laughing quietly. His father was playing GardenVille and began excitedly talking about the Level Three Blue Chicken! Asriel smirked, listening, and yawned, rubbing at his face tiredly.

“I thought you were takin’ a nap?”

“Oh. Well, I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Just watching stuff, on my phone.”

Asgore looked at his son with a raised eyebrow. He knew his boy always took a nap after lunch, and he knew he was fighting it.

“You have a headache.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, son, you do.”

“I’m fine, dad.”

Putting his phone down, Asgore stood and walked over to his son, and grabbed the sides of Asriel’s head. His father’s hands dwarfed him still, and he felt them begin to squeeze near his temples. It was true, he did have a headache. Asgore then vigorously scrubbed at the head, making sure his fingers worked over every inch and at the back of the boy’s neck. Asriel groaned and drooped, sighing tiredly, looking hazy for a moment.

“How’s that?”

“That was great.” Asriel smiled tiredly, “Thanks dad. Sorry for uh, earlier. You know, scaring you and mom.”

“That’s all right.” Asgore wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders, but glanced down, “We know this has been a lot, for you. Just let us know what we can do, alright?”

“I know, but. Well, I just, uh, feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s not like you mom need it. You know, being worried or stressed.”

Asgore sighed fondly, “Now listen. We love you, son, more than anything in the world. And we’re always gonna worry about you.”

“Yeah dad, I know, but—”

“No buts. You just let us worry about you, and you focus on bein’ happy.”

I wish it was that simple. . .

Asriel nodded and leaned into his dad’s chest and relaxed for a moment. It was warm, and he felt safe against him; Asgore patted his shoulder, and for a moment things felt better. He could fall asleep right there. But Asgore told him to follow, took out his keys, and guided him out of the house. When he asked what was going on, Asgore said they were just going to ride around. It would be just like when they used to walk around and hold Asriel until he was ready for his nap.

Huh. I’ve never rode in dad’s truck before.

It smelled like leather, and cologne. He leaned back on the chair, feeling a little excited since this was technically his first time riding in a vehicle, and with his father.

“You’ll be out in about ten minutes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep!”

The truck was cranked, and the lights turned on, illuminating the long stretch ahead with the heat from the dashboard washing over him. It felt cozy. He listened to the sound of the truck, witnessing the headlights illuminating the area around them. It was actually thrilling to see Ruins so bright, and full of light; sort of put in perspective just how dark a lot of it actually was. They could see it perfectly fine, but new shadows, and grooves were visible to him for the first time. Like flipping on the switch to an old bedroom. He looked around happily, enjoying the distraction.

“You’re excited, about this? You are so fucking pathetic. So stupid. So needy. So annoying. So. . .”

“Today was great.” Asriel smiled, getting comfortable and glancing to his father, “I really like the lattice, behind mom’s house! Weren’t we going to do something like that, in New Home?”

“We were.” Asgore smiled, hiding the little flicker of pain that made him feel, “But we got a lot of work to do here on your mom’s. No offense to Tori, but er, she certainly let that yard go.”

Asgore whispered that last part, as if she could hear him.

“Good thing I’m back around!”

Asriel felt a twinge of embarrassment, but, liked how happy this made his father.

His dad was always so proud of his gardening, and he knew his dad liked feeling useful in some way to Toriel. It was really nice, he thought. They talked about some of the upcoming plans, and Asgore mentioned he had a shop now in New Home where he sold flowers and maintained a business. He traveled around The Underground helping monsters with their weeds, helping maintain their gardens, and other business. It made Asriel wonder why kind of job he might go for now.

“I dunno, dad! I guess I gotta figure out what I’m even good at.”

“Well, helpin’ people, for one! You always said you wanted to do that and protect people.”

“Awwww. We did. Didn’t we. . .”

“Heh, well, I don’t think that can be a fulltime job!”

“Well, it sure can be! But don’t worry, we’ll help ya figure it out! You got any ideas?”

“Hmmm,” Asriel leaned back, looking at the roof of the truck, staring at the metal cover. “I don’t know! I guess I gotta think about it seriously now.”

“Well, not now! Take your time.” Asgore encouraged, “You got all the time in the world, son.”

Asriel leaned back, thinking about the day, watching the long hallways, and arches of the Ruins pass by them. It was a strange feeling, being in the truck. It was actually his first time even being in a car, he realized, and it was kind of exciting. His eyes drifted along the interior, and to the things that Asgore had in it; it was clean, little disorganized, smelled like flowers, and gardening supplies.

Above his dad were some envelopes, and what looked like a photo of their family.

That’s nice, dad.

“Dad where did you get the truck from?”

He knew, but he wanted to hear his dad talk.

“Oh, funny little story about this thing. You know that big Garbage Dump? Well, some little scarecrow fella said they found it! Was a big. . . mess too! I didn’t think there was much. . . but we hauled. . . Alphys showed me, cause the darn thing. . .”

Asriel took in a deep breath, watching everything pass by, listening to his father talk. It was nice. His seat leaned back a little bit more, and Asriel shrugged, letting it adjust and just enjoyed the change in scenery. Eventually, his dad stopped talking about the truck, talking about something else, but he was not noticing it as clearly. He felt toasty, turning over slightly in the passenger seat.

Heh, dad sure is talking a lot. It’s nice.

. . .

Hmmm. I wonder how long we’ve been driving?

. . .

Did he stop talking?

. . .

Huh. Wait. A scarecrow—what?

. . .

“Hmmmuh? Whath—uh—didth the ‘carecrow fella-sthay?” Asriel sat up, his eyelids heavy, and looked over, wobbling as his words slurred. “Dad?”

Asgore chuckled quietly, “How was your nap?”

Looking around, Asriel checked his phone, then realized he had passed out for almost thirty minutes! He did not even remember falling asleep.

“You were lookin’ mighty rough there!”

“Heh, no kidding.”

Asriel stretched again and huffed, sitting back and getting comfortable again. That was the best sleep he had since coming back to life! He shuffled over and leaned on his dad’s shoulder, feeling like he could fall right back asleep! Asgore let him get comfortable as he drove, Asriel looked down at his phone, replying to a text from Frisk asking where they were, and then checked the family group chat.

Toriel had posted that she was going to be busy that evening doing some edits, and reviews, asking if they were hungry. Asriel said no, since he still had plenty of pizza, and Frisk replied they had plenty of Asriel’s pizza too.

He smirked. “I think its pretty cool mom is publishing books.”

“I love seein’ your mother have passion for somethin’.”

“What about you?”

“Hmmm?”

“Well, did you get some plants from up top?”

“Not too many grow well down here without a little magic.” Asgore mentioned, making a slow turn, waving to one of their citizens, “I got my eyes on a few things from a catalogue though. They got some of these glowin’ mushrooms? Could be interestin’.”

Asriel yawned again, shuffling more into his father’s shoulder. “A glowing mushroom forest would be neat!

“Heh, well for those monsters scared of the dark? It sure would.” Asgore winked.

Staring ahead, he watched the road slowly unfold through the headlights. And in his reflection, Flowey stared back at him. Flowey was not talking this time, just looking at him, or wherever his eyes moved. But Asriel was too relaxed, and still tired, to really care this time. He kept his cheek to his father’s shoulder, finding that comforting enough to squash whatever fear his hallucination might have brought on.

He enjoyed the rest of the ride until they came back home. He shuffled inside with his dad, waving to his mother and Frisk who were at the table. They greeted him with hugs, and he returned, before settling at the couch. His father lingered, glancing to his mother, with his hands in his pockets. Asgore would be leaving soon, since he needed to get home and get some sleep before it was too late. Asriel really did not want him to leave.

“Aw, well ok dad! See you tomorrow. Thanks for the nap!”

“You’re welcome. You all behave for your mother.”

“Heh, I will.” Asriel smiled, giving him a tight hug one more time. “Love you dad.”

“I love you too, Asriel.” Asgore exhaled, squeezing him back, “Thanks for such a wonderful day, son.”

Frisk ran to give Asgore a hug too, giving and receiving the same goodbye as Asgore lifted them off the ground and squeezed.

Asgore glanced up to Toriel, who smiled politely, but not enough to invite him in anymore than he already was. It wasn’t cruel, but he knew there was a line. He waved goodbye to them, and got back in his truck, cranking, backed away, turning the tires on the dirt. It would be a three-hour drive back home; despite how tired it would leave him; he did not care. He smiled, thinking happily of the day he had just shared with his family while glancing at where his son had been asleep. A few of Asriel’s hairs were on the seat, and Asgore chuckled, deciding to leave them there.

Hours later, he was back home. New Home was cool, not cold, but still empty, and quiet. Asgore set his keys on the table and waved his hand to summon lights into his home. The fireplace was lit, and he looked around it, feeling almost like it had changed. Maybe it had? Maybe it sensed that his son was alive, and it did not make him feel as cold, or lonely.

Maybe it was because now he had hope. And he could feel the difference. The home echoed the feelings he had for years. And now? He felt like how he used to feel; warm, hopeful, happy. Asgore shifted back on his bed, looking up, thinking. . .

Chapter 5 – Cosmetics

Still haunted by nightmares of his past, Asriel buries it behind the new adventures and

adjustments with his family. He is taken out and meets Mettaton, while father spends the day

desperate to impress or charm Toriel. . .

“I made King Dad sick. . .”

“Haha! He will be ok!”

Asriel looked over sadly and nodded, knowing his dad could handle it, but felt riddled with

guilt. Chara promised him it was going to be fine. But Asriel whimpered, feeling so much guilt over

making his father sick! He wiped his eye, while Chara was busy talking.

“Besides! This gives me an idea.”

“What idea?”

“You’ll see.” Chara smiled, patting his shoulder, “I’ll make sure everyone is going to be ok.

Heh. Just trust me, all right?”

“Ok! I want to go check on dad!”

“Come on! We’ll do it together.”

. . .

“Chara, I-I don’t like this plan anymore! I’m scared!”

“Asriel!”

“I-I’m scaaaa-aa-aaared!” Asriel cried out harder, pleading to go back to mom and dad.

“Hey, big kids don’t cry! It’s going to be ok!” Chara assured him, trying to compel him to

turn around, “We have to fight them! Come on! We can do it!”

“N-No! I don’t want anyone to get hurt!”

“We have to! We have to free everyone!”

“B-B-But! I don’t want to!”

“Stop crying, Asriel! AND KILL THEM!”

Asriel backed away, stumbling into a tree, whimpering and heaving as tears rolled down

his eyes. He felt over his body, touching cold blood with a trembling hand. It made him sob, despite

how many times that Chara told him it was going to be ok. That they could take them on! They

could free everyone.

“Kill them, Asriel!”

“No!”

“Don’t you want everyone to be free?! Let me do it! You’re too scared!”

“Stop!”

“KILL THEM! WE HAVE TO SET EVERYONE FREE! DO IT!”

Asriel fought against Chara’s influence, keeping his small, shaking hands over the wounds

on his body. His face hurt; everything hurt, and he was so scared he wanted to freeze in place.

Chara kept yelling for him to do something; fight back, stop crying, free everyone in the

underground!

But Asriel turned and ran, struggling to move his small feet across the ground, crying and

shaking his head as he ran as hard as he could. He wanted to go back home! He wanted to see

mom and dad, and say sorry, and tell them he didn’t mean for anything bad to happen!

. . .

“It is kind of unfair. Don’t you think?”

. . .

“I think it is. You killed everyone.” The haunting voice whispered, giving a pause, “Wanna

cry about that, too? Huh?”

. . .

“Are you listening to me? Asriel? Haha! You don’t want to talk about it? That’s ok.”

. . .

“Asriel?”

. . .

“How come you get to be alive again.” The voice hissed, “It doesn’t make sense! Your soul

was gone! YOU were dead! So—why are you here?”

. . .

“Why aren’t you listening? I tried to help! It’s unfair, Asriel! Its unfair!”

“Please—stop.” Asriel whispered, turning onto his side, wiping his years away. “I’m sorry.

. .”

“It’s unfair! How come you get to live! HOW COME?!” They shouted.

“HOW COME?!” They screamed harder, trying to jolt him away.

“You said you wanted us to still be friends!” They pleaded. “YOU SAID YOU WOULD

FORGIVE ME!”

“W-w. . . ar. . . frie. . .”

“WHY ARENT YOU LISTENING TO ME! IT IS UNFAIR! ASRIEL!”

“ASRIEL!”

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

“Hu—ssnnnfffuh!”

He jerked up, shuddering and scurrying back from where he had been laying. His eyes

darting around the room, then up to the worried face of his friend, who was watching him

worriedly. They asked quietly if he was ok. He flopped back and groaned, rubbing at his eyes, and

then his head. He did not want to tell them.

“What time is it, Frisk?”

It was almost nine in the morning. Toriel tried to wake him up earlier, but he was not

budging.

“Oooooh.” Asriel complained, “I slept all day. Mom is gonna be mad at meeeeee!”

He steadied his chest, while Frisk asked if the nightmare was really bad, sitting by him.

Asriel nodded silently. Frisk moved in and hugged the goat tightly while he apologized meekly. He

hated feeling like this was a burden for Frisk, and like his trauma, and issues were just going to

ruin their day. With a loud yawn, he moved his feet to the floor and wearily looked around. He

needed coffee, or tea with lots of sugar.

He just needed sugar.

All of it.

His Kingdom, his sugar.

“Good morning, my children.” She held them both in a tight hug, as she always did every

morning he saw her. “Sweetheart, you look so tired.”

Toriel gently held her son’s face, rubbing her thumb along his cheeks worriedly. He had

bags around his eyes, and his fur was disheveled. As she cleaned it up, she asked him what was

wrong.

“Oh! I just wanted to watch tv.” Asriel lied, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “There are so many

shows I have to catch up on!”

Toriel responded gently brushing her hand along Asriel’s back, with a knowing smirk. “He

used to sleep in front of the tv. Back when he was so little.”

“Mom. Please.” Asriel pleaded, sighing with embarrassment.

Toriel explained it was because, as a child, he was deathly afraid of the dark and always

had to have a light source. He would not walk corridors by him-self, and many times would leave

his room with a large lantern.

“My children, would you like some tea?”

“Could I have coffee?”

“Really? You’ve never had before.”

“I sort of feel like I need it today.” He admitted, “I just feel really tired.”

As she prepared the kettle and began to set up on the counter, Asriel watched her with

this strange feeling of needing to be responsible. All mom did was cook for them; breakfast, lunch,

dinner; they did the chores for her. But it made him feel bad, suddenly and he stood up.

“Hey, Mom, do you want some help?”

“That is all right my child.” Toriel answered from behind her shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Toriel smiled, motioning for him to just sit.

Asriel knew she was never going to forgive him. Neither her, not his father; not for what

he did to that marshmallow pie he made for a picnic. It was burned and destroyed a pan. Or the

cake he made on her birthday that was runny in the middle. Or the cake sandwich he invented.

Or the monstrosity that were his butterscotch cinnamon muffins. . .

“You should teach me. I won’t burn anything this time!”

Toriel hummed as she began to measure out the pancake batter, hiding her muffled giggle

and smirk. He heard her giggling and huffed, crossing his arms and stated that, as an adult, he

needed to learn eventually. It was part of being responsible. He hoped this would convince her.

His mother turned to look over her shoulder, with a feigned look of sadness, touching her

chest. Asriel flinched, worried he had actually upset her.

“You don’t want your mother to cook for you? Well, I suppose. Since, you’re—grown,

now."

“Mom! That’s not what I’m saying!”

Toriel nodded with a look of defeat, saying she understood. He blinked in disbelief,

realizing she was now just manipulating him. He looked to Frisk, for support, who was just merely

snickering about the situation. Asriel argued that wasn’t the situation! He just wanted to not be

useless!

“My child, it is ok. I understand you want to be—on your own. I just wish,” Toriel sighed

softly, looking away dramatically, “I had a little more time to be your mother.”

“Ok this isn’t fair! I’m just trying to hel—wait. Hold on. I’m an adult.” Asriel stopped him-

self, blinking, realizing how much he was now acting out. His mother looked at him, covering her

mouth and trying not to laugh. He had been goated so easily by her, just now.

Against her wishes, he grabbed things from the top cabinet, her measuring cups, and the

recipe book she always referred to. He knew the usual things that she needed, so he smugly set

them all up on the counter to make her morning easier. When he was done, he looked at her

defiantly, with both of them holding their hips, as if challenging the other.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now, go sit.”

“Ok.”

“It is so cute when you pout.” Toriel giggled and pinched his cheek, then held his face and

gave him a serious look. “No more television after nine. At least, for a while. You need to sleep

more.”

Asriel sat down, taking out his phone, looking over the group chat. Frisk thought it was

adorable, commenting how much like Toriel he really was: sassy, defiant, dramatic. It made Asriel

smirked, and he glanced over, watching his mom cook. Moments like these are really what

mattered to him. Just being happy, and it helped him forget about the nightmare that started his

day. He chuckled, reading over a conversation where Sans was talking about Grillby serving him a

drink. He said Grillby sort of hung around for a while. Sans would always get free drinks,

sometimes food from the place. Undyne teased him with a bonetown joke, which made Asriel

cringe.

“Oh, no way. Grillby?”

Frisk thought they would be a cute couple.

“Guess I never noticed.”

Asriel looked at them and nodded, then told the group chat what Frisk thought. Frisk

doubled down on. Sans merely reacted with a laugh emoji. Frisk did remember to warn Asriel

that their parents were going to surprise him with a visit to Mettaton. Asriel’s expression dropped,

and he stared at them cold, and nervously.

“Really? For what?”

Frisk nodded grievously, saying that they overheard them discussing him getting a

wardrobe. A

“Golly. That is gonna take all damn day.” Asriel shivered, thinking about Mettaton’s fashion

obsession, “And mom is going to make me try on clothes for hours. Oh no. Is Papyrus coming?”

Frisk asked why, then laughed, asking if Asriel was going to use him as a distraction.

“You betcha!”

Toriel served them breakfast, and they talked with one another. Toriel, not intentionally,

had begun cutting the waffles on his plate for Asriel, who gently told her he could take care of

that. He did not want his mother going out of her way for him. He argued that he could do it, but

she would not stop, and he slumped, sitting gin the chair awkwardly.

“There we go. Frisk, would you like me to do yours?”

They responded more thankful than Asriel, flashing them a smug, challenging look. Asriel

narrowed his eyes, nodding, pointing between them. As he began to eat, Toriel adjusted his floppy

ears, and brushed his hair down with both her hands.

“Heh.” Asriel smiled bashfully, “Come on, mom.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“That’s ok.”

“It’s just so difficult.” Toriel admitted, petting her son’s hair, “I’m just—not used to you

being so independent.”

“I know. I’m sorry, mom.”

“No, no. This would have happened, eventually.” Toriel admitted, pulling her lips in,

“Would you believe I was more prepared for it, than your father?”

Asriel nodded, saying he could definitely believe that.

Her son assured her he did not mind it at all, and, admitted he was not used to it either!

He made a joke about skipping the whole rebellious arc, which made his mom smile. She then

cast a look at Frisk, asking if they intended to do the same. They made no promises, which made

them all laugh.

DING!

“Aw—come on Frisk! Gosh!”

Frisk had taken a picture and shared it with everyone when Toriel was mid cleaning him.

It was cute, and Asriel scolded them for taking a photo without asking! Frisk waved it off, saying

they were just preparing for a photo album. They then fought playfully over bacon, but Asriel gave

it to them, in the end, while watching what his mother was looking at on the phone.

“Wait—mom, is that a meme?”

“Oh! Is that what it is called?” Toriel adjusted her glasses, “Papyrus sends me these daily.

They’re quite silly.”

“Did he send a good one this time?”

“Well, seems to be about Spaghetti as usual. That skeleton really should try ravioli.”

“Pffft. Good luck! He hates that stuff.” Asriel huffed.

Frisk watched in amusement as both goats squinted their eyes in the same way. Toriel

showed him a meme Papyrus had just sent, which was a caption over an entire bathtub of

spaghetti.

“Them: let’s make a Spaghetti Bake!

Me: living in the future with my Spaghetti Soak.”

Asriel cocked his eyebrow, “Good golly fucking gosh, Papyrus.”

“Asriel, dear.” Toriel gave him a knowing look, tilting her head down, “Language.”

“Sorry, mom.”

Toriel had a gentle, but firm look on her face and reminded him that he was a Prince. He

could certainly talk like that in private, but never at the table, or in front of his parents. He winced.

Being scolded felt terrible, and he felt humiliated by his slip-up.

Keep it together, Asriel. Stop talking like that. Ok? You’re a Prince.

Frisk held up their phone, taking a selfie of their most unimpressed expression, and posted

it as a reply with a snicker. Asriel giggled childishly, reaching for the whipped cream and adding

an unnecessarily large amount and offered some to Frisk, who shook their head. He shrugged,

turned his mouth up, and squirted it until his mouth was almost overflowing. Frisk snapped a

photo discretely, and posted it.

DING!

“Aw look at—Frisk!” Asriel coughed, covering his mouth and laughing, “Delete that!”

Frisk shook their head, eating smugly.

Knock! Knock!

“Howdy everyone!” Asgore’s voice boomed from the door, as he stepped in, wearing his

usual Pink Floral shirt, and Khaki pants.

“Howdy, King Dad!” Asriel stood, and greeting his father with a hug. “What took you so

long? You said you’d be here earlier!”

Asgore laughed, reaching down to hug Frisk, smiling and telling them good morning before

explaining. “Well, I had to get these for your mother!”

Flashing a large bouquet of exotic flowers, he explained he had to make sure he got

everything perfect, before leaving! He set it up in the center of the table, smiling proudly, and

asked Toriel what she thought it! She liked them.

“I been visitin’ so much its like I’m moved in!”

Frisk cringed, and Asriel recoiled, glancing at his dad, then his mom, then Frisk. Toriel

ignored the comment, focusing on her phone, pretending to have her attention pulled by

something.

“Tori, may I?”

“Of course.” Toriel gestured for him to sit, paying no mind to his little comment from

earlier. “Asriel, we have a surprise planned for today.”

“You’re gonna love it!” Asgore’s smiled gleamed, “Your mother and I are going to be

getting you some proper clothes!”

Toriel continued, touching his ears fondly, “Oh I missed taking you shopping. You were so

cute with all your little sweaters. Frisk, I still have them. I should show you.”

Frisk liked the idea, receiving a glare from Asriel.

“Their name is Mettaton. Very Fancy Monster!” Asgore chuckled, “You’ll get along with

‘em just fine I think!”

“Yay.” Asriel forced a smile behind nervous eyes, “Can’t wait to meet them.”

. . .

“OOOOH! Oh, you simply look wonderful in this!” Mettaton clasped their hands together,

but then flattened their brow, gesturing to Asriel dismissively. “Try not to get any grass stains on

it. I know how you Capricornians are. Your father is simply the worst.”

“You betcha, Mettaton!” Asriel responded cheerfully. He waited for Mettaton to look

away, then mocked their racist statement under his breath. “Pffft. Capricornian? We’re a proud

goat people. . . “

He hated what he was wearing. Some annoyingly flashy and sparkly suit. He grimaced,

looking at his parents for support; Asgore had his lips pulled in, trying not to laugh. Toriel was

doing much the same. It was for formal occasions, or a gala, or even a party. None of these things

that Asriel thought he would be that interested in, and especially not in this.

Mettaton insisted he try to walk in it so they could see how it fit. Asriel looked over meekly,

then walked across the room, staring at his parents with a begging expression. They sat

presentably, each struggling to mask their amusement.

“He is honestly terrible at walking.” Mettaton noted, flicking their wrist to a small robot

who wrote it down, as if grading him. “Noted.”

“How can you be bad at walking?” Said Asriel, as he glowered. “Mettaton, I think this is

too sparkly?”

“First of all, that is impossible.” Mettaton corrected.

“And secondly, a dress can be perfect! But the person wearing it? They have to match it.

Beauty can be magnetic.” Mettaton spoke with a dramatic, breathy, performative nature. Their

movements seemed staged, albeit flexible, and they stood beside Asriel, looking at him in the

mirror.

“That’s nice and all. But I don’t wear sparkly things.”

“Our family keeps it a little simple, Mettaton.” Asgore chuckled.

Mettaton looked over Asriel and sighed, shaking their head, “Unfortunately, My Prince,

you simply are not fit to wear this. I suppose we can sacrifice glamor for, eck, convenience.”

Mettaton said the last part as if trying to not vomit.

“Aw, shucks.” Asriel replied mockingly.

This was the tenth outfit he had tried, and so far, less than half were enjoyable. Everything

Mettaton made was mostly for them. Frisk called out to him, then tossed bright pink sparkly shoes

at Asriel, tricking him into catching them so they could snap another photo.

“Ah! Mom! Tell Frisk to quit it!” Asriel huffed, throwing the shoes playfully back at Frisk

and stomping back into the changing room.

“Asriel is very camera shy.” Toriel giggled, winking at Asriel.

“You have to take photos when he isn’t looking.” Asgore whispered.

“I can hear you!” Asriel huffed, crossing his arms, “You’re not helping!”

“Oh hush, Asriel, you looked wonderful in, um—a few of them.” Toriel giggled, as she said

the last part unsurely, “Besides, I need pictures!”

Mettaton handed him another outfit while muttering something about its simplicity. As

Asriel undressed, he caught a sight of his body in the mirror again; it was nice, in a way. Vanity

was not something his family had, but he at least could enjoy seeing a body of some kind instead

of leaves, and a stem. His fingers grazed his chest, and then he snatched the robes off the door,

dressing quickly, and sighed, exiting.

“Well look at him.” Asgore glanced to Toriel, “Son, that’s perfect.”

“Oh.” Toriel clasped her hands together. “I—I’m sorry, please give me a moment.”

Toriel sniffled and wiped her eyes with both hands, then held her son close, admiring him

in the mirror. Her low jaw was shaking, and her eyes were slightly red, and a little puffy. The Robes

were formal, similar to what his mother and father wore with their White Sleeves, and purple

gown with the Deltarune on his chest. Mettaton was disappointed it was something so archaic,

but it was the Dreemurr style.

“Look at our boy, all grown up.” Asgore wrapped a big arm around Asriel’s chest, pulling

him in from behind.

Asriel held onto his father’s arm and leaned back, careful to not poke him with his horns.

He felt safe, and he needed this right now, more than ever. After the dreams he’d had; this was

his antidote. He smiled genuinely, while his mother held onto him lovingly, patting her chest as

she tried not to cry again. But seeing him, dressed like this; it was what she had dreamed of.

“Heh.” Asriel smirked.

“What is it?” Toriel leaned down, “my child?”

“I really miss my old sweater.”

Toriel giggled, and so did Asgore. They mentioned they could commission Mettaton to

remake it, and he actually loved the idea! Mettaton looked at just one photo and held their chest,

gushing at how small Asriel looked.

“Look at how absolutely scrumptious he was! So small, with his little horns.”

“Yes, our boy was quite precious.” Toriel nodded.

“And now he’s so dashing! Well, if the Royal Family requires MY FABULOUS assistance

making something so trite, and basic; consider it done!”

“Thaaaanks, Mettaton.” Asriel forced a smile.

He loved his sweater.

“Nice robes. We’d look better in them if we were dead!”

“I like these.” Asriel commented, brushing his hands down them. He felt complete, now.

Like he was finally him-self, again. Something about wearing his official robes just gave him a

sense of confidence, “Thanks, mom and dad.”

“You’re welcome son.” Asgore smiled, glancing to Toriel fondly, “See, aint that bad havin’

me back around, Tori!”

“Mhm.”

Frisk and Asriel grimaced while Toriel gave Asgore an unimpressed look, reminding him it

was not happening. She kissed Asriel’s cheek, then stated she had to take a call, and fumbled

trying to answer her cellphone. She adjusted her glasses and squinted, but frisk had to show her,

again, how to unlock and answer it. She walked away, while Asgore politely excused him-self to

look around.

“Dad is really giving it his best shot.” Asriel whispered when the parents were out of ear

shot.

Frisky nodded, frowning at the corner of their mouth, then glanced nervously at their

mother, making sure they were not trying to get Mettaton’s attention. Asriel noticed, then a

sinister grin snaked across his mouth.

“Did’ya think you were gettin’ out of this, Frisk?”

Frisk froze, begging him not to say anything.

“Hey, Mettatooooon!” Asriel called out, feeling Frisk tugging at his arm and gown. They

fought, as Frisk tried to cover his mouth, but he snatched away with a childish laugh. Pushing

them off, “Frisk told me they’re—ah, stop—quit it—dangit! Hah! Frisk said they’re kinda jealous

YOU didn’t make them anything!”

“Oh, are they now?” Mettaton looked back, grabbing their hip, “Frisk is this true?”

“Uh-huh, sure is!” Asriel grinned, pushing Frisk forward, “They were wondering if you had

something sparkly in their size?”

“OH DARLING! Why didn’t you say something before?!” Mettaton practically skipped over

to them, then curled their hand, their lip twisting in judgement. “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t

know any better, would you? Let’s modernize you out of that—gross sweater thing. Just because

you were adopted by the Dreemurrs doesn’t mean you need to dress like them.”

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, Frisk wore bright, hot-pink, sparkly boots.

“You know mom is tracking us.” Asriel smirked as he looked at his phone, “Anyway, did

you see anything? I thought I could, I don’t know, sense them? But, well, I can’t.”

Frisk shook their head. There was still no trace or sign of Chara.

It made him sad. He really wished they had come back; he really wished that they had a

second chance, like he did. It had been so many lifetimes, but now, it felt like it was only days ago

that he died, and he missed them the same. They walked to the spot where he had crawled out

of. It was further away than he realized from where even Frisk had originally fell. They looked up

at the spot in the roof of the cave.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Asriel thought aloud, “Same place you came from. Where all of this

started over, and over again.”

Frisk agreed, resting their chin on Asriel’s head. It was crazy. But Frisk was happy Asriel

was here, and he got to come home.

After their father left for the day, and Toriel retired to sleep, they snuck out to examine

Flowey’s corpse. It scared Asriel, at first. He felt the dread in his stomach; like he was standing

some place he was not supposed to be in. Or a place he escaped from. The feeling was ambivalent

and strong; and overwhelmingly unpleasant. But, as they examined, there was nothing there but

a crushed flower that had shriveled up and become brown.

Frisk had taken the time to prepare a spot near Chara’s grave, because they knew Asriel

would have wanted that. And he did. He stood over it, as if standing over his own grave. Except,

Asriel Dreemurr had no grave; monsters did not have graves. His first body turned to dust. So

maybe this was his actual grave? Either way he tried to rationalize it, it made him feel sick to his

stomach to imagine.

Frisk made the connection that the reason for this is because all of the essence that was

Asriel was gone; so, it was just a normal flower. Flowey did not exist.

“Normal, huh?” Asriel mouthed quietly.

Frisk nodded.

“Golly, heh, kind of a strange think to think about.” Asriel put his hands under his purple

hoodie, “Me, being normal.”

Frisk patted his arm, asking him what he was thinking.

“It’s just that this was me for so long.” Asriel leaned down, letting Frisk hop down, “And I

don’t know. I’m saying goodbye? I think? And I feel sad. Ugh. I’m such a crybaby, Frisk.”

Frisk corrected Asriel: Flowey was their own person. Flowey made their own mistakes,

with Asriel’s essence and maybe something left of his soul. Even without it, Flowey might have

done what they did anyways with someone else’s dust. The situation he came from might have

made any other creature act the same way.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Asriel sighed, sitting back, looking up, “It feels as of Chara is here too.

And they’re mad at me.”

He sat down, looking at Chara’s grave. Maybe it was his own guilt, or remorse? He felt like

he did not deserve to be here and said as much to Frisk. After all, Flowey murdered everyone

hundreds of times; Asriel could try to run and hide from it, but it was him in a way. He just did not

want to think about any of this. He wanted to bury it and move on.

[PITY PARTY.]

Asriel touched at the dirt, thinking about that night, and Chara, again.

“It’s unfair.” He muttered softly, sprinkling the dirt through his fingers, “They were just

trying to help. And all of this happened?”

When he closed his eyes, now, he could clearly see and feel it. Like it had just happened.

Frisk saw the pain, exhaustion, and age in Asriel’s eyes for a moment. He looked worn out, despite

how happy he was merely an hour ago. Asriel explained that he constantly thought about the

night the humans killed him; how he was dead, then woke up in a lab. Frisk thought about how

Asriel went from one life, to the next: as a boy, then a flower, now as an adult.

He never really had a chance to just exist.

“Yeah. It is a strange feeling. I feel old.” Asriel muttered, resting back, supported by his

hands, “I feel tired, but, happy? But I’m so messed up from it, Frisk. I’m hiding so much from

mom, and dad, and everyone else too.”

Frisk mentioned to him that they sincerely did look for Chara’s soul, after Asriel returned.

But they were gone, and, they hoped maybe they had moved on to a better place? Frisk talked

about how human souls had an afterlife, maybe, so Chara would be ok. Though this did little to

make the monster feel better. Frisk watched him shrug and turn his exhausted green eyes to the

roof of The Underground.

He looked scared, and he looked sad. It was a lot for him.

“You’ll be ok. I’ll make sure of it.” Frisk spoke clearly, scooting to sit beside him.

“Heh, thanks.” Asriel smiled, holding Frisk close under one arm. “Gosh, I hate how sad

King Dad was today. It was all day, too. I know why mom is being like this.”

But he still did not like it, because to him, it was his fault. Not his father’s.

Frisk nodded, relaxing back against the wall, handing some taffy to Asriel as they ate a

piece. He did look sad. Frisk winced and admitted that their mom had been talking to Sans before

their dad arrived, when Asriel was asleep. She greeted him but hurriedly walked away; the look

on Asgore’s face was really bad.

“You know, if I had not died—Ow! Hey!”

[PITY PARTY.]

Frisk grunted, threatening to kick Asriel again if he tried to blame him-self!

“Ok! Ok! Ugh, you got my robes dirty!”

[SHRUG!]

Frisk did not like that. It was not fair. And, besides, this was between their parents. Asriel

stared at them, then sighed hopelessly; they were right. It was just between them. But he still felt

bad either way. Nothing was going to shake the mount of grief and guilt on his shoulders; and

Frisk knew it.

They hung out for a while, until Frisk wanted to go back. Asriel let them leave, saying he

wanted to walk around, clear his head. He needed a bit of space; not from his mother, or anyone

else. But he needed to think; and he needed some air, and time with his sibling. He looked over

their grave and shifted onto his knees, touching their headstone. They never knew Chara’s last

name; or their real birthday, or anything about them. His parents knew even less than Asriel did,

and he only knew what Chara told him.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, and gentle. “Chara.”

He had been too skittish to come here yet. He did not even think about it in the first couple

of days he was alive; he was too exhilarated to see his parents again. But Chara was right. It was

unfair. And he knew it. He moved down onto his knees, feeling so much grief, and guilt, and regret.

He wanted them to understand that he did not blame them, but he wished they had not

come up with that plan. His chest stung like needles were pricking him, and his stomach was so

cold with that heavy pit.

“It was such a bad idea.”

Saying it aloud felt like he was blaming them. He did not like how it sounded, but he felt

like he needed to say it.

“It really was. You hated humanity so much. But we wanted you to be happy! You could’ve

just been happy with us.”

It felt like he was blaming them: he hated that. He felt something like eyes on him.

The bitterness was catching up to him, and no one knew just how he felt. When he was

Flowey, he was desperate, in the beginning. To reconnect with his mother and father; to figure

out how to bring Chara back. And all that desolation was pointless. He gave up, and he went crazy.

“We agreed they would never know. I don’t want to them to think something bad about

you. B-Because I care, Chara! I really do!”

There was no reply from the grave, and Asriel gripped his fists tightly.

“So please stop being fucking mad at me! I didn’t’ ask to come back! I’m sorry I’m here,

without you, ok? I’m sorry.”

Time passed as he waited by the grave, and it was quiet. And dark, and empty. Even if it

was his home, he felt uneasy. Like it wasn’t his anymore; or he did not belong. Papyrus had led a

long, loud parade, and Asriel was welcomed back. But it still felt—strange. He thought maybe it

was his own fault, because after all, he did not care about these monsters for infinite lifetimes.

He walked by the towering pillars and old buildings, wandering near to the desolate region

of Ruins that was unoccupied. Old. Crumbling. Dark flowers and fines covered everything as

nature found some kind of way to reclaim it. The dirt and old leaves crunched under his feet as

he made his way slowly. It was peaceful, a little; maybe it’s just because he was used to silence,

and isolation. It felt nostalgic, and the moment he realized it he walked faster to get back home.

“NYEH! Where is he! THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT BE SO EASILY DECEIVED!”

“Oh boy. It’s him.”

Asriel peered around a series of columns that led to an old intersection, where Papyrus

was busily searching through brush and ruins. He felt an immediate sense of annoyance but shook

his head. The skeleton was turning over rubble, slicing through bushes, and grabbed his hips with

confusion.

“WELL THEN! IF YOU SHALL HIDE, THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NEVER GET UP HIS

QUE—”

“Hey Papyrus!”

“OH! BEHOLD, IT IS THE PRINCE!”

Papyrus spun around in alarm, then knelt before him. It humored Asriel; partly because

he was just so obnoxiously in character, and, because he never considered his status that

important.

“Watcha doing, pally?”

“NYEH! HUNTING! MY DECEPTIVE LITTLE FRIEND HAS MASKED HIS PRESENCE!” Papyrus

declared, aiming his sword at the bushes, “HE TOLD ME HE WOULD BE HERE!”

Oh, I did say that, didn’t I. . .

“Who’s that buddy of yours?”

“FLOWEY THE FLOWER! NO ONE BELIEVES THAT HE CAN TALK! BUT PRINCE ASRIEL, I WILL

PROVE IT TO YOU!”

Asriel cocked his eyebrow, crossing his arms, “You really wanna find him, huh?”

“NYEH! I MUST! PERHAPS ITS JUST HIDE AND SEEK! HE LOVES THAT GAME.”

Asriel smiled, but his eyes darkened. This day was beginning to unravel, and he just

wanted to go home. He tried to remember why he would have asked Papyrus to meet him there.

Likely had something to do with manipulating him or to just send him on a pointless hunt.

Something humiliating, and meaningless. The way that he, back then, perceived papyrus.

“Papyrus—”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MY LEIGE!”

Asriel rolled his eyes and snickered, “Great Papyrus, are you sure you wanna find that

flower fella? I heard he’s sometimes a jerk. You don’t wanna be friends with a jerk, do you?”

“WELL. HE HAS HIS MOMENTS! BUT HE IS FUNNY! AND, HE SAID HE LIKES TALKING TO

ME!” Papyrus added, loudly, but with a more sincere tone, then he tapped his chin, “I CAN’T

LEAVE MY BESTFRIEND WAITING!”

“Your best friend?” Asriel gave an uncertain smile, laughing quietly.

“YES! MY BESTFRIEND!”

He’s not your friend, Papyrus. I was not friends with anybody.

Asriel thought bitterly about that; he did not have friends. At least, none other than Frisk.

He did not have friends for a long time.

Papyrus spun, continuing to search while simultaneously narrating it as if he were scribing

his heroic, legendary actions! Asriel watched him, realizing it was easy to manipulate him, but

finding it so terrible now. Papyrus was an idiot; this was undeniable. But he seemed genuinely

innocent. Asriel followed him around, mostly watching, but wondering how he could ever make

things right with this hopeless Knight.

“AND HOW IS PRINCE ASRIEL?” Papyrus asked from over his shoulder, “NYEH! WE DID NOT

WANT INTERRUPT HIS GRIEIVING!”

“Oh, you saw that?”

“WE DID NOT MEAN TO!” Papyrus admitted, then stood up, putting his hands together.

He breathed out for a moment, turning over with a more serious face. “I hope you are feeling ok,

My Prince. I understand that this must be difficult for you.”

Asriel’s eyes widened, he did a double take, looked around, then pointed at Papyrus

accusingly.

“Wait did you just talk normally? AGAIN?”

Papyrus paused, tilted his head, then let out a loud, and raucous laugh.

“PERHAPS! OR PERHAPS NOT! IT IS HOW I REMAIN UNDETECTED, AND UNDFEATED! MY

ENEMIES ARE NEVER PREPARED!”

Asriel laughed in disbelief, asking Papyrus if he were serious, but Papyrus brushed past it

as if the moment did not happen. He assisted with looking for a little while, and Papyrus seemed

genuinely sad that his friend, again, did not show up. As they walked back, Papyrus lamented but

promised to come looking again!

“I SURE WOULD MISS HIM.”

“Yeah. You better! IF YOU FORGET ABOUT ME, PAPYRUS, I WILL KILL YOU. I WILL RIP YOUR SOUL FROM YOUR BODY THREAD BY THREAD. . .”

“Well, hey! If you can’t find him,” Asriel began with a leading tone, “I could be your buddy!

If you want?”

“OH! THAT—MY PRINCE! THANK YOU! THAT WOULD BE SPLENDID! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS,

BEFRIENDING ALL THE ROYALS!? I AM UNSTOPPABLE.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re unstoppable.” Asriel smirked.

He asked Papyrus if he really thought Flowey was a good friend, because Asriel heard from

some people that Flowey was kind of rude to him. Sometimes. Papyrus admitted Flowey had a

sense of humor.

“BUT I BELIEVE HE MEANT WELL!”

“What if he didn’t?” His voice was cautious as he led, “What if Flowey was kind of a

troublemaker? You know? Some of Monsterkind can be like that.”

“DOES THE PRINCE KNOW SOMETHING?” Papyrus looked over with big, hopeful, trusting

eyes, “IS FLOWEY IN PRISON?!”

“Haha! No, no, he’s not in prison!” Asriel laughed, “But, maybe he isn’t coming back

around? Maybe you should forget about him.”

“HMMM! I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE HIM BEHIND!”

“That’s nice and all, buddy. But what if he left you behind?”

“THEN I JUST HAVE TO TRY HARDER TO BRING HIM BACK!”

Asriel mentioned with a melancholy tone that sometimes you had to leave things behind;

your-self, others, or something else. Sometimes you had to be forgotten. Because if you didn’t,

then, it would hurt you or others more. Papyrus asked if this was because of his younger sibling,

Chara. Asriel looked over, studying the Skeleton’s big trusting face, and admitted it partly was.

“It is hard, and golly, does it hurt.” Asriel mentioned gently, glancing to the grass.

“THE PRINCE CANNOT BE HURT! NONE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY CAN BE HA—”

“But sometimes you have to let go.” Asriel continued, ignoring Papyrus’ speech, “If it’s

better for everyone else, it’s ok to be forgotten.”

The words rolled out of his mouth with a darker tone, and he stared ahead with a cold

gaze. They were now back at the more populated section of Ruins, with streetlights, and monsters

walking by them. Asriel smiled and greeted them gently, all the while Papyrus rambled on about

something related to ravioli.

And how, in his mind, it was an abomination.

Summary:

Asriel spends time with the group of friends at Grillby's for the night. He learns more about

the infamous Tim Foil, as well as his numerous conspiracies.

The only thing Asriel can't understand is: why doesn't he remember them...?

“Really? There was just nothing here?”

“Nothing! King Dad and I used to camp out here, though!” Asriel mentioned, using his fork

to dip his fries into the sauce.

He was invited to hang with the group at Grillby’s after his mother turned in for the night.

It took an insane amount of convincing to allow him to leave the house without her, or his father.

She had called Asgore, who then called Undyne, and a family discussion was had about even the

thought of allowing their son to be alone. He was an adult, but he was still their baby, as Toriel

stated. It required Undyne, Papyrus, and Frisk promising to, at all times, escort him wherever he

was and he would have to constantly check in, which he did. He was used to being escorted, since

as a child, he was never really left alone, so he felt comfortable! Asriel took a photo with his arm

around Frisk’s shoulder and smiled. He liked what he saw; it was just him. Wearing a purple shirt

with the Deltarune Sigil, and black pants. It felt so normal.

“There—and—sent! Sorry, everyone. Heh, mom is still a little nervous!”

“NYEH! WE ARE HAPPY TO BE OF SERVICE!” Papyrus cheered, “DID THE PRINCE ENJOY

CAMPING IN SNOWDIN?”

“I did! Dad especially!”

“I bet Mr. Dreamy had a lot of fun! Has he always been the outdoorsy type?”

“Mhm! Camping, gardening. Heh, I really got into it because of him.”

“What about your mom?” Alphys continued, “Or is that a little perso—"

“Mom always came with us when we went camping. Buuuuuuuuuut she was not a fan of

the cold, or the outdoors. Kind of why she’s always had the fireplace running at her house.”

He mentioned that his mom would usually set things up to be as comfortable as possible;

and back then his dad went out of his way to make her comfortable during their outings. They

listened as he talked about the past, and Asriel got to experience feeling the past, too. Not just

viewing memories in his mind like some kind of photo stock; not being unable to appreciate what

they were.

Alphys giggled, sipping at her hot Sake, which Grillby kept especially for her. “He always

talked about how cute you were!”

“Yeah, I was little.” Asriel chuckled, looking over to Frisk and smirked, “Now you’re the

shortest!”

Frisk said it was still unfair Asriel got to come back to life and be this tall. But Asriel said

they should not question miracles, speaking in a performatively soft voice, and gave Frisk a fake,

but formal sounding apology. They two locked eyes, and Frisk nodded.

[FRISK WILL REMEMBER THIS.]

“Asgore told me he used to carry you around sometimes?” Undyne continued,

interrupting the sibling rivalry, “That true?”

“Yeah, heh. He did.”

Undyne chewed at the large piece of fish, “Didn’t think his kid would be a total wimp.”

“What? I’m not a wimp.” Asriel’s bright green eyes turned up to Undyne with a look of

confusion, “I was a little kid, Undyne.”

“Hunny, be nice! That was rude!” Alphys lectured.

“Heh.” Sans smirked. “Baby goat.”

“Yeah, that.” Asriel motioned with a laugh, “Literally! But we don’t use that word, Sans,

since we’re not technically real goa—”

“What were ya scared of?” Undyne challenged, tilting her head, “Bugs or something?”

“THE PRINCE DID NOT HAVE ANY FEARS.” Papyrus interjected loudly to Asriel’s defense,

“SURELY NOT!”

“Actually, I was scared of a lot of things.” Asriel corrected innocently, “when you’re a kid,

everything is kinda scary.”

“Heh.” Sans laughed again, “Baby goat.”

“YES, BROTHER, THAT IS WHAT HE WAS. A BABY GOAT! MY PRINCE I AM SORRY FOR MY

BROTHERS JOKES!”

“That’s ok Papyrus, thanks!”

“Aw come on, I’m just kidding around.” Sans chuckled.

“BROTHER THAT WAS NOT FUNNY.”

“Awwww, he looks embarrassed!” Undyne laughed loudly, “Guess we should take it easy

on ‘em, right guys?”

Why is she being so annoying? Are you mad you had to escort me?

Frisk was snickering and just enjoying the banter, noticing Asriel was more easily

embarrassed than they expected. He was teased and provoked, holding his own well, responding

politely, much like a Prince would have. But there was a look at his eyes, that only Frisk recognized,

that indicated he was not entirely enjoying the badgering. He played it off and laughed, but texted

Frisk his confusion why Undyne was messing with him so much. Frisk admitted they did not know

why.

As monsters came and went, they politely stopped by to greet The Prince; they were

friendly, and quick. Others took a little more time, but he did not mind it too much. The positive

attention felt good! And it helped to put things out of his mind. One interaction that was nice was

an older couple, who said they lived in New Home. While they exchanged pleasantries, his phone

constantly buzzed from memes that Papyrus was sending him.

“You look so much like your father.” One mentioned, their face half covered to reveal a

skull with a glowing eye, “Except—"

“My mom’s ears. Yeah.” Asriel laughed, finishing the sentence for them, “I hear that a lot!”

“Isn’t he just the cutest thing?” Undyne asked them, leaning over on her elbow with a

smarmy grin, “Little fluffball.”

Asriel flashed a warning smile at Undyne then turned to look back at the old mummy

couple, “I will let my dad know you said hello! And mom too!”

“Thank you. You kids have fun!”

“Come on Ramsay.” The other one said, “It’s gonna be a long walk back. My wrapping is

falling off.”

“Well, I told you to get the pins.”

“I know you did, hunny.”

Asriel smirked, watching them leave and bicker at each other playfully. A gay mummy

couple: he thought it was unique, then turned his attention to Undyne, cocking his eyebrow.

“Fluffball? Really?!”

“Well? I mean. You are.” Undyne responded matter-of-factly, “You guys shed everywhere.”

“What?! No, we don’t! And also, I’m not actually that fluffy.” Asriel mentioned casually,

patting his chest, “Well, except up here! Heh, dad was happy because I have some blonde hair,

like him!”

Frisk stated that Asriel did in fact shed. Asriel argued he absolutely did not and seemed

offended by it. He proceeded to explain the accurate details of their hair, with only Alphys being

really invested in the finer details about it. Sans and Papyrus did not have any kind of routine they

had to follow, except for the occasional bleaching to get sauce stains out. Asriel just seemed

excited, almost, innocent, as he went over the details!

Undyne shrugged, stretching her arms out, “Guess—aaah—that’s why Asgore said you

still cuddle on their laps, huh? You’re his wittle fwuffy baby.” Undyne put on a childish, mocking

voice.

“Babe, come on, you’re being rude.” Alphys whispered, glancing over wearily. “Stop that.”

“It’s ok, Alphys! Undyne is just trying to—"

“His fwuffy wittle baby-baby-baby.”

“—Toooo annoy me! Heh, it’s not gonna work, buddy.”

Papyrus was trying not to laugh, but he was fighting for his life at the teasing. Asriel

noticed, glancing at him and Sans, who were both snickering. It made his eye twitch, but he kept

a relaxed posture, trying to speak, only to be interrupted by Undyne. He was not a fan of being

teased, in reality. Chara even knew that, though they did it sometimes. Asriel was always a little

weak to being made fun of, and in the moment, he resented how easily Undyne was getting under

his skin.

Frisk had warned him ahead of time too.

“Fwuffy, wuffy, wittle baby baby baby baby.”

“Heh.” Asriel tilted his head smugly, sipping his soda and then set it down with a clink,

“You really think you can get under my skin that easily?”

Undyne huffed and sat back, crossing their arms. Alphys and the others resumed chatting,

while Asriel was continuously barraged with Spaghetti memes by Papyrus. Ever since their little

talk two days ago, Papyrus took the suggestion seriously: Asriel was now his buddy. He got texts

nonstop, memes, and gossip. The latter part was more entertaining than the rest. Sans seemed

cool with it, but Asriel did not care either way.

“NYEH! PRINCE ASRIEL!”

“You can just call me Asriel, Papyrus. I told you that.”

“IMPOSSIBLE! ANYWAYS!” Papyrus corrected, “I AM CRAFTING A NEW SPAGHETTI AND I,

THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST YOU TRY IT!”

“Sure, I can!” Asriel nodded, eating his fries with a fork, “What kind is it?”

“CHOCOLATE SPAGHETTI.”

“What.”

“YES!”

Asriel gagged slightly but tried to laugh his way through it. Dessert spaghetti? Papyrus

anticipated the reaction and explained that it actually was well constructed! The noodles were

made from rice flour and gelatin and sweetened with sugar and vanilla! The sauce was raspberry,

and the meatballs were a fried puffy pastry!

“Paps, no offense, but that sounds gross.” Undyne grimaced, looking at Sans who looked

equally unsettled, “You eat that shit, Sans?”

“NO. BROTHER IS TOO SCARED TO TRY IT.”

“I love you little bro.” Sans pat Papyrus on the shoulder, “But that’s my limit.”

“SEE?! NO SUPPORT! YOU WILL TRY IT IF YOU WANT ME TO EAT YOUR MONSTER MASH!”

“What is that?” Asriel blinked, genuinely curious.

Papyrus clarified it was mashed potatoes made with a Monsterkind Energy drink. He

gagged out loud, while Sans shrugged, saying it gave him all the calories he needed and energy

without making coffee. The whole table shamed him for it, while laughing about how absurd both

the brothers cooking was. Asriel told Papyrus to bring some by whenever, and he’d try it! This

dish at least sounded interesting. Frisk stated that Asriel also ate a chocolate pizza, which

everyone at the table shamed him for!

He defended it as being way better than any of them gave it credit for!

Alphys wanted to show him something too and asked what kind of music he liked. Asriel

had not thought about it, and said he mostly listened to what his dad and mom liked.

Old People Music.

“Oh! Oh, you, uh—hmmm. I think you might like this? W-Well, if you want to listen! It’s a

little nerdy, but I think it is fun!”

“Heh, sure. I’ll listen.” Asriel replied, humoring her.

The artist, explained by Alphys, was an artist from Japan. Her name was a unique spelling

of a name from the west, and she was some kind of “Pop Princess” as explained. He half listened,

not really feeling like entertaining her. Part him still resented her. He listened for a few moments

while she watched anxiously, not wanting him to stop listening too soon. Alphys beamed and

bounced in her seat when Asriel’s eyes lit up, and he looked surprised. He then bobbed his head,

smiling, and talking loudly over the headphones to ask what it was.

“That’s J-Pop! It’s really fun!”

“Yeah, I like that! Wow! Hehe, never thought I’d be into weeb stuff!”

“Aw! Who told him I was a weeb?!” Alphys groaned in embarrassment, looking at the

group, “Come on guuuuuys!”

“I PROMISE IT WAS NOT ME!” Papyrus assured her with one hand to his chest, “EVEN

AFTER THAT HENTAI YOU RECOMME—"

“PAPS I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOURE TAKLING ABOUT! LET’S DROP THE SUBJECT! HEHE!

THANK YOU!” Alphys squeaked loudly,

“You recommended my brother hentai?” Sans looked over at Alphys.

“N-No! It’s just, uh, a spicy anime!”

“Wasn’t me babe. You know I think you’re a total cutie with that stuff. Oh, Hey, Asriel!”

Undyne leaned forward.

“Yeah? Undyne, are you just going to bother me again?”

Undyne cleared their throat, then, in their best imitating of a human goat’s bleating, said

“Daaaaaaad.”

“Will you fucking knock it off?”

“Hah! Finally!”

“Ugh. Dangit!”

He winced, realizing what he did. Undyne started laughing and nodding approvingly. They

just wanted to see what his limit was; and it was not far! Undyne remarked that Asriel kept up a

good act; being the perfectly groomed, well-spoken Prince. But they had trained plenty of

warriors, knights, and been in enough fights to know when someone was bluffing. Asriel stared

back, admittedly impressed, but also annoyed at being investigated like this. He did not appreciate

it.

“Hey, don’t be mad. Everyone has their limit, and I wanted to know what yours was.”

“Yeah? Why?” Asriel muttered bitterly, casting a sore look, “Just to—mess with me?”

Undyne informed him, stating that every single person at this table go the exact same

treatment because Undyne needed to know these things about everyone. Allies, or enemies, all

had buttons; and if she knew them, she could protect you from them being pressed. But she had

to take those hits. It was an act of tough love, she assured him.

They could see Asriel was genuinely frustrated, and tried to make light of it, telling them

that Sans was more easily triggered than Asriel was.

But she would not say what it was that got under his skin.

“I don’t like being embarrassed.” Asriel muttered, resting his cheek on his chin.

“See! That was rude.” Alphys scolded under her breath, “I told you to be nice.”

“What?! I was! Come ooooon, are you actually mad?”

“No, it’s ok.” Asriel replied pitifully, apologizing for being easily offended and ruining the

fun.

“UNDYNE WE MUST RESPECT THE ROYAL FAMILY! NOT INSULT THEM!”

“I am!”

“THAT WAS NOT VERY RESPECTFUL!”

Undyne huffed and complained that everyone was now on her ass for messing with him a

little bit. Asriel watched, keeping up his performance of being offended, but spoke with an air of

formality, assuring them he understood their motivations! Even if it hurt, he would accept the

hits. The others lectured Undyne for being too aggressive. Undyne gawked as she saw him, for a

moment, cast a smirk in her direction, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

He had gotten the entire table on his side in an instant over something this small? She

knew instantly he could play the game back and nodded approvingly as she crossed her arms.

“Anyways! Frisk, I was talking to mom and dad. And I was wondering, do you like to go

camp—"

[CONSIDER.]

[DENY.]

Frisk did not do camping. They did when they arrived here, out of necessity; Frisk stressed

that part. But they were retired from adventuring. Asriel blinked, then began laughing at them for

it.

“You’re just like mom!” Asriel chuckled, “Well, I’m done eating. Do you want the rest?”

Frisk shook their head.

“Ok. Well, here you go anyways!”

Asriel looked at his fries, and then Frisk’s plate, and just politely scrapped them over for

Frisk to eat. Frisk huffed and finished them off for him. He had admittedly eaten way too much

today; the others at the table noticed it too. Asriel was eating constantly. He needed to taste

EVERY Flavor he could! Even after the day with his family, he still wanted to taste everything he

could and enjoy how it felt!

Who knew how much food changed when it was something you could enjoy eating?

The group chatted about their days and the week. They asked him odd questions about

life in the Kingdom back then. The people he knew were long since gone, and Asriel admitted he

did not have a lot of friends as a child. He was shy, but outgoing; he danced around the topic of

anything too personal. They were understanding, even though he knew they were probably

beyond curiously.

“So, whats up with you being an adult?” Sans asked, “Got growing pains or anything? Ya

like being tall?”

“Haha!” Asriel laughed sarcastically, “It’s been fun! Mom still isn’t used to it, though. Or

me. I keep bumping into things.”

Frisk said Asriel was always trying to make use of it, too. Toriel was having a hard time

adjusting, but he was trying to make it easy on her. One thing she did seem to enjoy was buying

him clothes; all of them collectively agreed that their parents just loved getting their child clothes.

Asriel was especially care-free, as long as it wasn’t sparkly and was simple.

“You’re handling this really well.” Alphys mentioned, suggesting that reincarnation was

virtually non-existent even in the human world. It happened, a few times, but never for a monster.

“Thanks. Never thought I’d actually be here, again—but, well, here I am.”

“I’m glad kid, seriously.” Undyne said more softly, noting that his father, when back at New

Home, was the happiest that she had ever known him. Asgore was even, per her, actually taking

care of him-self more. He was making food, instead of ordering it, like he had been for a while

now.

“Heh, well, guess miracles can do that.”

“HAIL OUR MIRACLE PRINCE!”

“Shhhh! You don’t have to yell i—”

“AND HAIL TO THE ROYAL DREEMURR FAMILY!”

“HAIL!”

[REVEL.]

[EMBARASSMENT.]

Asriel flinched and grimaced, as members of the restaurant responded, and he gave a

humble wave to the patrons, before turning away and covering half of his face with his hands.

Papyrus was growing on him, but only a little bit.

He texted his mother again, then took the news paper that had been set to the side of the

table to read. It was mostly columns of updates, ads, Sans’ illegal hotdog stand. He asked about

it, absent mindedly, just to hear Sans’ explanation even though he already knew it. There was also

something about a suspiciously abandoned Bagel Stand, and the owner refusing to pay fines for

leaving it parked in Hotlands without a permit.

“Oh yeah, competition. Huh-huh-huh. Guess they couldn’t handle the game.” Sans added

with a slightly haughty tone, “Hotdogs verses Bagels? Easy dub.”

“What does that mean?” Asriel looked up unsurely, “Dub?”

“Oh. Huh. Means an easy win.”

“What happened to the owner?”

“No idea.” Sans shrugged, chewing at his hotdog, “She bailed. I heard she moved to

Waterfall.”

Undyne commented. “Haven’t been there in a while anyways ever since—

“Your house burned down?” Asriel finished for her.

Undyne exhaled sharply.

“When you tried to make spaghetti?”

“Pfffft! Funny! My house didn’t burn down. It was flooded!” Undnye laughed, rolling her

eye, “Who told him that?! And I CAN make Spaghetti!”

“JUST BARELY!” Papyrus added smugly.

“Hey, watch it! Anyways, who told him I can’t cook?!”

Frisk raised their hand. Asriel looked over unsurely, and Undyne clarified their house

collapsed into a sink hole, which drained part of the area they lived in. Undyne moved in with

Alphys, and they began dating no long after. It stunned him because this had been a very topical

point that, back then, Flowey would mock them for.

Is she lying to me? Are all of them lying to me? Asriel thought, glancing across to all of the

monsters. No one seemed to be joking. They were serious. He even glanced to Frisk, who

motioned with their phone.

Frisk:

Azzy: Ok…

Azzy: So her house did not burn down?

Frisk:

Azzy: Ok…

He laughed, playing it off as a joke, but could not deny this made him feel uneasy. First,

that monster Tim Foil: now Undyne’s home? He read the newspaper to pass the time and caught

articles by that specific monster. He checked the date, and saw it was recent. There were pieces

by Tim Foil in the News of the World column: food dye causing mutations, monster souls being

sucked through temporal rifts, zombies? He tilted his head in confusion.

“Watcha readin’, kid?” Undyne asked.

“Stuff about that monster. Tim Foil.” Asriel pointed with his hand, chewing at a fry “I heard

mom talking about him with a friend of hers.”

“That guy stinks.” Undyne groaned, rolling her eye, “Nice dude, but kind of a wack-job.”

“Yeah, he’s a little out there.” Sans mentioned between bites of a double-hotdog topped

with chili, cheese, onions, potato chips, and a pickle, “Mmmf—nnnf. Thought Alphy was

conducting time-travel experiments, mmmf—crazy right?

“BROTHER. DO NOT TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL!”

Undyne joined in, “He thought Alphys, and your dad, were conspiring to take over the

Kingdom! Pfffft! Can you imagine it?”

“I certainly couldn’t! Too much responsibility for me.” Alphys huffed tiredly, “I’m already

so busy. . .”

“Take over? But my dad is already King!”

“I know! He made Asgore so stressed out.” Undyne shook her head, recalling the few times

Tim would ambush Asgore with questions. He would send him emails, letters, arrive at their home

uninvited.

“Yeah. Heard he went to his shop.” Sans added, “Tori told me. He’s harmless, just, ya

know—”

“HE IS VERY PERSISTENT. OR WAS. WE DON’T REALLY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM.”

“He harassed my dad?” Asriel asked, glancing at all of them, “And my mother, too?”

“Nah. Not harassed.” Undyne corrected casually, “Just bothered him every day.”

“I think that’s the technical definition of harassment.” Alphys added.

Asriel’s neck tightened.

Frisk looked over worriedly, trying to change the topic to an upcoming movie, but the

group began to talk louder, and faster. The group began to spout of all of Tim’s other crazy

conspiracies, though Asriel was more focused on the monster confronting his father. And his

mother too? She had played it off like it was no big deal, but why would anyone accuse his family

of anything? It only got worse when he was caught trying to sneak into the castle and was

prompted booted out.

Supposedly, per Undyne, Asgore had banned him from New Home for half a year.

“BROTHER! REMEMBER WHEN HE ACCUSED THE KING OF SACRI—”

“Paps!” Sans choaked, trying to shush him. “Shhhhh!”

“—FICING ASRIEL AND THEIR SIBLING TO DESTROY THE BARRIER?”

Asriel was still for a moment. Then in a flash had stood up, his legs bumping the table

before his hands slammed down with so much force that all their drinks were knocked over. The

other monsters flinched, looking up to the enraged Prince.

“WHAT THE HELL DID HE SAY?!”

His voice echoed across the bar, and everyone stopped moving. He did not seem the type

to ever lose his temper; not after the stories his family had shared, over the years. But he was

radiating energy; the aura of his soul wisped and flicked violently like shimmering white fire. He

dug his claws into the table, looking at all of them for an explanation.

[CALM.]

Asriel flinched, when he felt a hand grab his arm, but looked over and saw Frisk’s worried

face. He shuddered, turning to look around, and then sat down immediately.

They lifted their items out of the way as the server rushed over to make sure everything

was ok. Undyne and Sans covered, expressing that Asriel was stunned by the ending of a tv-show

he liked as a child. Asriel forced a laugh and smile, apologizing for the outburst. The room felt

distinctly quiet, and heavy for a long moment, before it seemed like the music returned, and, just

like that, it was back to normal. Asriel sat still, his eyes to the table, glancing over to see some of

the patrons still watching him.

He saw the look of fear, or concern in their eyes, and winced. He did not like how this felt.

Or how this made him look. But how could that monster say that to. . .

“I’m Sorry.” Asriel mumbled.

“Hey it’s—ok.” Alphys answered for the others, “We didn’t want that to, uh, come up.”

Papyrus winced again, while Sans spoke quietly. Asriel looked over, seeing the hurt on

Papyrus’ face.

They could feel the energy coming off the Young Prince; his soul was radiating power,

much like his father. They all appreciated, in that moment, he was a Boss Monster, and not just

royalty or any other denizen. Asriel asked calmly how long Tim Foil had been harassing his

parents, and, why no one had done anything to stop it. He also wanted to know where Tim was

from; he wanted to know as much as he could.

Undyne stated that Tim really had nothing of substance; he had numerous conspiracies

throughout the years. Lots of crazy ones. The only time it became an issue is when he mentioned

Asriel.

Years? That is impossible. How have I never. . .

“You said throughout the years?” Asriel clarified.

“That’s right. He has been at this for a long time.” Alphys confirmed gently, stating he had

gotten worse in the last year, before Frisk arrived.

Asriel exchanged a look with Frisk; they seemed to share some kind of conversation or a

brief moment, before The Prince looked back at the rest of them. They, all of them, were more

attentive now, seeing how serious he was. His eyes seemed darker, and he looked furious. Undyne

had seen that look before, with his father; a look that seemed hollow and filled with contempt.

“What else did he say?”

She tried to explain something about a time loop, but was struggling to really clarify it,

and motioned for Alphys.

“He thought your father employed me to prevent a Bilker’s Paradox. Which is, of course,

illogical! You can’t change the future, if you know the future is certain!”

“What do you mean?”

“It is a paradox where you go back in time to change the future because the future is

certain. Doesn’t make a lot of sense when you put it simply.”

“Nah.” Sans shrugged, “Makes sense to me.”

Alphys took a napkin, and a pin, and began scribbling, “You think the future is certain,

correct? Something is inevitable so you go back in time to stop it. Well, that is the paradox. If

nothing can change the outcome, then, going back in time to prevent it only causes you to get

stuck in a Causal Loop. See?”

“Shit babe, I love when you get all smart about this stuff.” Undnye smirked, making Alphys

squirm with embarrassment, “Basically that stuff, Asriel.”

They watched as he seemed to process the information; when Alphys offered to clarify

further, he stopped her, stating he understood. His mother had even patched things up with Tim

Foil and was going to help him publish his conspiracy theories as short stories to humanity. It

made him smile, knowing his mother had this much infinite patience, and forgiveness in her.

He, however, at this moment, did not.

“I just take topics with my family really seriously.” Asriel put his hands together and

exhaled, blowing through his lips, “I just can’t believe anyone would say something like that—to

my dad. Sorry, Papyrus. I’m not mad at you. I promise!”

Asriel said the topic of Chara was very sensitive to him, since they died only a little bit

before he did too. The group understood, all sharing a sympathetic moment with him. Papyrus

nodded, apologizing for letting it slip and agreed it was horrific of someone to suggest!

“Hehe, no kidding! Get it?”

“Baby goat.” Sans snickered.

Asriel laughed, along with the others, and the tension released. Alphys cheered that they

should just enjoy the rest of the night, especially since it was his first night out with them!

“I’d like that! Especially after earlier.” Asriel laughed, sipping his soda, glancing to Sans.

“Because boy howdy. . .”

“Oooooh.” Sans laughed a little awkwardly from under his hoodie, “Yeeeeaaaah. That was

me. My b, huh-huh-huh.”

“Oh shit. Sans, what did you do?” Undyne groaned.

“Nuthin’.”

“You’re unemployed. You always do nuthin’.” Undyne remarked dismissively, “Papyrus?”

“NYEH! BROTHER! I TOLD YOU TO WAIT TO CALL HER UNTIL LATER!” Papyrus added,

wagging his finger, “BUT YOU DID NOT LISTEN.”

“Oops.” Sans shrugged.

“YES. OOPS.”

Frisk explained that Asgore had stayed late into the night, and it was pretty obvious he

was trying to spend the evening there. They had gone to bed and the two stayed awake talking;

it was nice, at first. But Toriel made it clear he would sleep downstairs, on the couch. That was it.

She let him down gently, almost pitifully. It was made worse when Toriel took a call from someone,

excusing her-self; while walking away, she Sans’ name. This made their dad really upset, though

he tried to hide it.

He left a few minutes later, all smiles, but was visibly really hurt.

“Hey, uh. Sorry. Huh-huh.”

Asriel looked up at the chubby skeleton, who had so far not said a word about this, “You’re

kind of in the middle of it. Sorry, about bringing it up! Gosh, lots of heavy topics tonight, huh?”

“Yeah! You guys are really killing the vibe.” Undyne complained.

Frisk assured them that Goat Dad would be ok, especially since tomorrow, they were all

going out, together!

It was weird to have this conversation with him casually. Asriel thanked him, but he knew

his mother had moved on. Back then, he hated Sans so much; he was nosey, knew too much, and

was a fat idiot. Now, sitting across from him, Asriel felt indifferent. He was texting his dad, while

they talked.

“NYEH! PRINCE ASRIEL I AM SORRY.” Papyrus added loudly, but delicately, “IF YOU EVER

NEED ANYTHING, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE TO SUPPORT YOU!”

“Sure thing, pally.” Asriel laughed, “You’re just gonna invite your-self over again.

Arent’cha?”

“MORE THAN LIKELY! I WAS OVER IN THE MORNING, BUT YOUR MOTHER SAID YOU WERE

SLEEPING! SO, I WAITED.”

“He actually came home and sulked about it.” Sans chuckled, nudging Papyrus with his

elbow, “Didn’t ya, little bro?”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES NOT SULK!”

“Yeah, you do. But that’s alright, I love ya!”

“That’s ok! We can hang out tomorrow!” Asriel suggested, saying he was actually

interested in the chocolate spaghetti.

He patted Frisk on the back and encouragingly, making sure he could rope them into it

too! They were going to decorate for the holidays, since all of The Underground would be doing

it, so Papyrus would have to visit later in the day.

“THAT WOULD BE EXCELLENT! I HAVE TO MAKE A VISIT TO NEW HOME TO GET

INGREDIENTS!”

“Eyyyyy.” Sans laughed, looking over his phone and showed it to the others at the table.

“Got some new folks wantin’ to see my routine. Coooool, right?”

“Oh yeah?” Asriel looked up curiously, “Doing the one-liners again?”

“Huh. Guess I should change it up. Only started a week ago.”

Frisk interjected that they’d mentioned it to him and played him some of Sans’ routine.

Sans gave an impromptu demonstration, telling one of his favorite jokes.

“I was at a restaurant; I saw a guy wearing a leather jacket at the same time he was eating

a hamburger and drinking a glass of milk. I said ‘Dude, you are a cow. The metamorphosis is

complete. Don't fall asleep, I will tip you over’!”

The table remained still.

“Huuuh-huh-huh. Pretty good, right?”

Asriel stared in disbelief, wondering to him-self how in the hell his mother slept with this

guy. At least he made her happy, or laugh? Asriel hoped so.

“PRINCE ASRIEL, WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR MINE?”

“Sure! Go ahead!”

“THANKS! IM ACTUALLY A BONE-AFIDE COMEDIAN.”

The group were still, while Sans was the only one laughing. Asriel stared at him, then

snorted, and began laughing. It was a dumb joke, but it made him laugh. Papyrus began flexing

that he got Asriel to laugh before Sans, who just congratulated his little brother. All the while,

Undyne was watching him. Asriel noticed, looking up to her, then away, then back again. He

tensed, locking eyes with her as she leaned on her elbows, staring at him. Was it about the

comment from before? Or something else? Why did she seem so focused?

“Ok. We’re all thinking it! And I’m tired of pretending we’re not!” Undyne butted into the

conversation, “So I’m taking charge of this.”

“What are—Undyne! Don’t you dare!” Alphys squeaked, waving her hands, “Asriel! P-

Please ignore her! Undyne! Don’t!”

“I’m going to!”

“No! PLEASE!”

“Oh no.” Asriel mumbled, slumping back tiredly.

“Soooooo, Asriel.” Undnye leaned forward on one elbow, giving him an intense look.

Alphys pleaded desperately, trying to pull her girlfriend’s muscular arm, but Undyne did not move.

“You looked at porn yet?”

Alphys squeaked while Papyrus choaked on his drink, Sans choaked on his hotdog, and

Frisk covered their face and began sinking under the table. Undyne argued loudly that everybody

was thinking about it, and they were all adults! She gestured to the whole place, remarking it was

a bar, and so it should not be that big of a deal? Undyne was a Royal Guard, but she also was

fairly liberal in her views; when she was off the clock, she was her-self. Asriel flinched and looked

around, wide-eyed; he had never felt so humiliated.

He answered no, flatly, and Undyne rolled her eye asking if he even had the talk yet?

“Your dad has been wanting to do that.”

“H-He said that to you?!” Asriel stammered.

“Duh? So, you don’t even know about the birds and the bees! Or whatever goats talk

about?”

“UM!” Asriel recoiled, trying to shush her, “Could you please not fucking yell that in

public?”

“Oh ok! So, you can drop an f-bomb on me, but I can’t ask if you know about se—"

“Babe! You’re embarrassing him! Quit!” Alphys begged, her voice shaking with

desperation.

All the monsters were listening, including the Fire-Fly server who was floating at the edge

of their table. They shared in the prince’s humiliation, watching the table erupt into a combination

of lecturing and busy questioning. Frisk just waved to the server, who got the hint, and just refilled

their drinks while trying to listen in.

“Th-That’s so personal, hunny! Asriel, I’m sorry! Excuse her!” Alphys was sweating, “I-I-I

don’t want to know! That’s ok! You don’t need to tell us.”

“Oooooh boy. Awkwaaaaard.” Sans hooted.

“THE PRINCE LOOKS ILL! “

“Hey, he’s a grown man now. He probably knows all about it.” Sans shrugged, “Right, kid?

Wait. Are you still a kid, cause, baby goat?”

“No.” Asriel answered very flatly, looking away.

“Eh, whatever. That’s fine! I’ll tell yeah, shit, I’m older than you. Asgore will get over it.”

“Actually, I’m older than you.” Asriel corrected matter-of-factly.

“What? No, you’re not.” Undyne blinked, “You literally just became an adult.”

“Yes, but I am still technically older than everyone here.” Asriel corrected with a flat, and

very frustrated tone, “So, as the oldest monster, I am declaring this topic off-limits!”

“Yes!” Alphys exhaled tiredly, collapsing back in the booth, “Gomen!”

“How the fuck can he do that?” Undyne demanded, gesturing to Asriel, “Huh? You can’t

do that!”

“Yes, I can.”

“Why?!”

“I am your prince.” He replied with a tone of authority, “The topic of my sex-life? Banned.

Forever. Throughout the entire Kingdom!”

“Nice.” Sans nodded approvingly, “You tell her.”

“You guys are all a bunch of chickens. OW! Ok! Which one of you did it?! I just wanna get

to know the little dude!”

Frisk mentioned that Asriel was nearly as tall as his father, and rivaled Undyne’s height.

That made Asriel state he was not little, not now anyways, and Undyne rolled her eye. The others

ganged up on Undyne again, while Asriel sat poised, his back straight, his hands together. He was

putting on the best display he could and thanked the Server with a polite smile. The night ended

with laughter and more soda, and him being escorted home. Undyne begrudgingly apologized,

saying she got ahead of her-self. But Asriel admitted he had a blast, and he looked forward to it

again!

She did manage to get one last jab; telling him to look up what a twink was.

* * *

Frisk had long been asleep, and he was left in the dark with his thoughts. After such a long,

and busy day, it was nice to have a little quietude. Hearing the house creak. Not hearing any noise

felt nice. But then again, it was familiar. He rolled over onto his shoulder, staring at the back of

Frisk’s head. It looked so much like them. Papyrus’s comment had stuck to his mind the whole

night. That monster, Tim Foil, had figured something out that was close but so far from the truth

of what happened. How did he do that? Who did he know? What else did he know?

But how could anyone think his own father would do that? Asriel shook his head. No, his

father would never even consider something like that.

“Dad killed because—of what we did. He wouldn’t. . .”

Chara would. Chara did. He felt a pit in his stomach, remembering them, and their plans.

It made him feel sick. He did not resent them, but that idea—that horrible idea. They sacrificed

them-selves for the Kingdom. And in the end. . .

Chara—I’m sorry. I wish you could be here. I wish I knew why. Asriel thought to him-self,

staring at the ceiling, I would give—anything. Anything for you to be here too. I really would.

Asriel whispered the words under his breath softly.

He drifted off to sleep but could not really recall the dreams as they came. Only that he

persistently woke up, since dreaming was still new for him. Flowey never dreamed or slept. He

experienced vast periods of immobility, like being in a coma, followed by the sleepless weeks of

scheming and murder.

It made him twitch.

Asriel rolled over, drifting in and out of it a few times, but his chest was tight, and heavy.

It felt like something was sitting on it, and he noticed his heart beating a bit more. Like he felt it;

each thump, each break in-between. Why was it so noticeable? Why did the room smell so bad?

It felt cold and dirty. He rubbed at his face, trying to brush the smell away, or the sheet. It felt

dirty too. He tried to open his eyes and see if he got dirt or something on it.

“Ho. . .ha. . .HaAAgh-AAAAaaAAaGH!”

He gasped, inhaling sharply, stunned. Asriel breathed in hard, choking on earth and soul.?!

It was dark. Very dark. And cold. It stunk. There was so much pressure on his chest, and dread. So

much dread. What was happening. . .

“What—blech! What—mffagh! Blagh! EEEACHL—AACKLEAH!”

He struggled and felt cold, and heavy, like weight was pressing against him! He began to

thrash, feeling his petals moving, and his body shifting around. Asriel shouted and tried to bring

his knees to his chest, fighting and thrashing more until he could push him-self up! His eyes were

stinging! He shouted for Frisk and his mom, but no one answered! When he was finally up, and

off the bed, Asriel wiped his eyes, expecting to see his room.

But he saw The Underground. He saw The Ruins where he woke up weeks ago. His breath

caught in his throat which constricted tightly. Asriel shivered, holding up his trembling hands and

seeing his white fur covered in dark soil.

“N-No—No! No! NO, NO, NO! HOW?!”

His voice echoed into the cavernous space.

“MOM!”

His voice echoed more.

“D-DAD!”

Asriel stumbled forwards but could not move. He scrambled to dig away at his waist,

panting and huffing rapidly as he dug and dug until he could see his thighs! He strained, crying

out in desperation, all of his muscles tightening and burning as he forced one leg free! Then

another one!

“D-Did the world reset?! HOW?!” Asriel shouted, spinning and looking around. He

grabbed his head, gripping at his hair and shouted, “HOOOOOOW!?”

He gritted his teeth. This could not be happening. How? Did he do it? How did he do it?

“I-I wasn’t even alive for a month?! WHY?!”

Asriel looked in the direction of his mother’s home. He had to get back to her. He had to

tell her everything—everything that happened. He had to see her again. But he stumbled when

he moved, just like that first day. He groaned and tried to shift his leg, but this time it did not

move. He was tangled up in vines and roots, which were latched onto his fur. Je snatched at his

leg, growing more frustrated and desperate by the second.

“Sh-shit! Come—on! COME ON! MOM! IM COMING!” Asriel called out frantically, trying

to pull his leg away, and looked up.

“C-CHARA?!”

They were there.

Their face was melted: the skin dragged down from their eye sockets, and mouth. It hung

like it was liquified and he knew this was not how rot looked at all. This was different. Their hair

was in patches, and they were rotted. Their clothes had decayed, the dry, tight skin of their body

clinging to the bone, and at some places it was visible.

They were looking right at him. Looking with vacant, black, empty eye sockets filled with

dirt. Asriel went cold, and he froze; when he tried to speak, his voice broke, and he choaked.

“Are—are you alive?”

“. . .”

“Please! Talk to me!”

“. . .aaaAa-sssSSrrRRiiiIIi -eeeEeeelll!”

He shuddered, trying to crawl away, but the vines would not let him. He tried to stand,

stumbling and starring in terror at Chara’s corpse, which was half exposed in the grave. They were

still, frozen, and their head moved just slightly to follow him.

“Wait! Wait! Let me go—get someone! Anyone! Hang on! FUCK!”

He tried to snatch his leg away and shouted in frustration since it seemed to tighten! There

was a thud, then Chara was on their face. They shifted, slow, and grotesque, towards him. He

shuddered and backed away, as best he could, until Chara was closer, and closer, and closer. Then

they grabbed his other ankle, their face still on the ground.

“What are you doing!?”

“CcccoooOo-Ooommmmeeeee—BaaaaAAAccccKK!”

“Come back?! W-Wait!”

“DdddooooOOOWN—Hhh-h-eeEErrRE!”

They yanked him closer to the grave with terrifying strength. His heart sank, as he realized

what Chara was going to do. They were going to drag him down there; kill him, keep him there!

“No! NO! STOP! Stop it, Chara!”

He felt his body lurch as Chara’s boney, grotesque arms grabbed his other ankle and

yanked him closer. They had so much power that it startled him! Asriel screamed, trying to kick

them off of his leg, but Chara did not let go. They wanted him back down there: dead, in the dirt,

with them. He pleaded and squealed, trying to pry their fingers off, but they gripped him so tight

it broke his skin. He began to bleed, and he lifted one foot, trying to kick them in the face to break

them off. But even that did not work!

“Let me go! I-I’ll go get mom!” Asriel shouted, digging his hands into the ground, his

muscles burning as he strained to pull away, “Sssssstop! Stop it, Chara!”

“AaaaAAaas-SSRRRRiiIII-EeeeeELLLLL!” Chara’s horrific, gurgling voice droned. Their

disfigured face turned up to him, their mouth open, their eyes empty, “WwwWWHHYyyYY!”

“W-Why what?!” He pleaded desperately, “HELP! MOM! DAD! FRISK!”

He shrieked for someone to help him, and stumbled back, clawing at the appendages

latched onto his ankles. He broke free, and stumbled up to his knee, trying to run away but felt

them again latch on him. Asriel was crying in panic, his fingers digging into the dirt, while he

begged Chara to let him go.

“HI, BUDDY!”

“Huuu—F-Flowey?!”

His eyes widened with a cold dread as he saw the disfigured flower: his broken body, and

his face mutilated. Flowey had become a desiccated monster, grasping onto the goat’s furry legs.

Its body ripped and stretched, swelling and shivering; the vines were like organs almost. They

were grotesque with their dark vegetative veins and botanical residue. Asriel had never seen this

before; it had never happened to him!

“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE ALIVE!” Flowey screamed at him, it’s mouth stretching wide,

“YOU ONLY DESERVE TO SUFFER! LIKE ME! DOWN HERE!”

“. . as-rriiiiIii-eeeEEEelllll. . .” Chara was now rising out of the dirt completely. “DooOon’t—

c-c-cccrrRRYYYyyyY!”

“BIG KIDS DON’T CRY! REMEMBER?! You are so pathetic!” Flowey roared, snarling and

snatching their body around, their leaves shaking, “You are so worthless!”

“F-Flowey! H-How?! Stop” Asriel shrieked, looking over his shoulder, “Someone HELP!

HELP EM!”

“Whaaaa! WHAA! Haha! WHAAAAAA! HAHAAAA-HAA-HAHAHA!”

Flowey screeched in a maniacal laughter that made Asriel’s ears hurt. He slammed around

violently, lurching to pull the goat closer to him. The vines twisted even tighter, and Asriel could

feel the sting of him-self bleeding. The way they clung, it felt like at any moment, they might begin

to break his legs! Flowey roared in laughter, then stopped suddenly.

They stared at him silently. Asriel could hear his heart beating in his ears as everything

went still; the silence buzzed, almost shrilling. Maybe it was the echoes of what happened? But

it felt cold. It felt empty, around him. Flowey creaked, and snapped, as he moved; his withered

body splintering, disintegrating as he shifted his posture to maintain his focus. Their eyes were

wide, and empty. And their smile was horrifically vacant of any details.

Just wide. Gruesomely wide.

“You are going to rot, down here.” Flowey’s voice was easy and soft, almost as if trying to

soothe someome. “Forever. Just like you deserve.”

“I-I don’t—” Asriel stammered.

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Flowey hummed softly again, creaking as he tilted his

head, “Mom and dad were better off without y—"

“Shut up, Flowey! You did it! NOT ME!” Asriel screamed accusingly.

“Did what?” Flowey asked innocently.

“You—you hurt them.” Asriel panted, his voice shaking, “You hurt our family. Our friends!

Everyone!”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!”

“That was you.”

“I-I wouldn’t hurt my family.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“NO!” Asriel barked, “I would never hurt anyone! That was YOU! B-Because you were

BORED! And miserable! A-And scared because—"

“LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!

LIAR! LIAR! LIIIIIIIAAAAAR!”

Flowey roared, screamed, and thrashed. Their body slammed around at the ground, and

they beat at their face, ripping away the residual dried petals and leaves. They began to destroy

them-selves, screaming over and over again. Chara’s small, mutilated body shambled across the

ground; their empty, melting, black eyes staring directly at him. Their words were obscured and

obscene, as they asked why he was forgetting about them. Why he blamed them for everything.

Why they didn’t want to be his friend, anymore.

“I miss you!” Asriel pleaded, his shoulder shaking as he sniveled pathetically.

“You hated them. You hated everyone. Because they let this happen.” Flowey whispered

and lurched, dragging Asriel hard across the ground, closer to the graves.

“Th-that’s not true!”

“Then why did you kill them thousands of times?” Flowey asked coldly, spinning and

twisting, almost face to face, “Why did you get so creative when you did it?”

“Daaaad!”

“WE DON’T DESERVE DAD!”

“Mooom!” Asriel cried, his legs burning from the grip. He could not break free; and he felt

a sense of doom. A terrifying, fatal sense of end as Chara, and Flowey, drug him closer to their

graves.

“Mommy isn’t coming to save you! HA! She never did! Or dad!”

“YoooOoo—haaaAAate—mmm-mEeeEE.” Chara moaned in a dark, ominous drone.

“I. DON’T. HATE. YOU!”

“y. . .oOUUu—ffffgh-ghhhOOT—aaaBOOuTTttt—mmMMEee!”

“I didn’t forget about you, Chara! I promise! I-I wish you were here!”

Asriel rolled onto his stomach, straining with all his might, using every ounce of his

strength to try and pull his knee underneath of him. He gritted his teeth, slamming his hands into

the ground to grab onto the dirt, grass, anything. But they tormented him from behind, taunted

him, mocked him, condemned him. And slowly, more and more, he was dragged from safety. He

screamed, and cried for his parents, for someone; for anyone to save him.

“He-eeeeelp! I don’t wa-a-ant to die again! PLEEE-Eee-Eee-aa. . . s. . . he. . .hel. . . m. . .

eee. . HNNGUH!”

He jolted up, thrashing and kicking. He had broken free!

He turned to look but slammed his face against the wall behind him. Asriel cried in pain,

whimpering behind his hands as he covered his mouth and nose. Tears were streaming down his

face, and he wiped them away, sniffling, and gasping. He turned his frantic eyes across the room

to where Frisk was lying. The terror of his feet touching the floor left him immobile until he found

his phone and used it to illuminate the floor.

His hands were shaking violently, but he could see Frisk’s shoulder.

It was them.

Not Chara.

[WAKE UP FRISK.]

[WAKE UP DAD.]

[WAKE UP MOM.]

He anxiously put his feet to the floor and moved out of the room, turning on every light

downstairs. His feet patted floor as he rapidly checked to make sure the door was locked, and

there was absolutely nothing to imply Flowey, or Chara, were there. But even that was not good

enough. Asriel checked the lock on the door more than once, then the windows. He thought to

call his father or get his mom. He paced towards the stairs, then back.

N-No. I can’t wake them up. J-Just—just—just. . .

Asriel kept the lights on but kept the volume of the TV low. He was so scared that he curled

up under the blanket, making sure his feet were away from the edge. He kept one pillow over his

head, as if to shield, or hide him, from something that could be watching.

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