Just Cause
An Undertale Fanfiction
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind (you are here)
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind (you are here)
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
I wonder how much farther this cave goes. There has to be an exit somewhere.
A wide hallway yawned into view on their left, and Frisk peered cautiously around the corner, quieting their breathing as their eyes darted in search of attackers or a way out.
To their mixed relief and disappointment, the only noteworthy thing in the room was a patch of the Ruins’ ubiquitous red leaves arranged in a wide ‘t’ shape, as if this place had been given special attention by someone both meticulous enough to sculpt their leaf piles, and peculiar enough to place them in the middle of the path.
I wonder if the person who rakes the leaves lives here. I should be extra careful; I don’t want them to use their rake on me.
Their quiet feet skirted carefully around the brittle foliage, and as they slipped through the doorway at the end of the room, something rushed toward their face in a flash of dull crimson.
They jolted away from it with a cry, then their eyes followed the spinning leaf as it tumbled to the ground. As the small projectile skidded to a halt, Frisk’s gaze rose to its source, and their heart sank.
It was the saddest tree they’d ever seen. Its bark was black and rough with age, and its jagged branches were naked and bereft, as if they struggled each day to grow a leaf, only to have it fall into the pile that surrounded the weathered trunk.
It looks so empty and lonely. Like it wants to grow leaves so badly, and they just keep on leaving… it…
Fiery tightness gripped their throat, and their teeth clenched on the inside of their cheek, fighting the burning tide that threatened to well up in their eyes. No. I’m not going to think about people leaving. I’m not going to cry.
A determined foot landed firmly on the path ahead, only to freeze as a soft, anxious voice suddenly sounded ahead of them. “Oh dear, that took longer than I thought it would.”
OH, NO.
A familiar white-and-purple figure hurried into view, a black cell phone rising toward her ear, and Frisk took a terrified step backward.
I have to hide – oh crap, she saw me! She knows I left the room!
Is there still dust on my shoes? Will she know I killed those Vegetoids?
I’ve been bad… I’ve been so bad, there’s no way she isn’t going to-
“How did you get here, my child?” Toriel’s voice cut through their thoughts, a river of worried confusion where they’d expected angry fire. Before they could try to find an answer that wouldn’t stoke the flames, she continued, “Are you hurt?”
Confusion shot through Frisk’s mind, and they unconsciously reached up to touch the bruise that was forming on their nose. Toriel’s eyebrows tensed in dismay, and she held up a massive hand, watching with something strangely like pity as the child flinched away. “There, there, I will heal you.”
A warm, soothing glow washed across their battered face and soul, and the pain suddenly faded away, just as it had after their encounter with Flowey.
“I should not have left you alone for so long,” Toriel continued. “It was irresponsible to try to surprise you like this. Err…”
Surprise and embarrassment washed across the monster’s fuzzy features, then her smile returned. “Well, I suppose I cannot hide it any longer. Come, small one!”
She isn’t even mad at me. She blamed herself, not me.
Since when do grownups do that?
As they followed her in a small half-circle around the tree, the tall purple walls of a house came into view. A patch of leaves adorned the ground in front of each window, and a flood of tension drained from Frisk’s shoulders as the gleam of a save point flared among the foliage.
They didn’t dare keep Toriel waiting, but they skirted sideways long enough to touch the yellow light before trailing her through the front door.
Maybe Dash was right – maybe monsters ARE different from humans. At least some of them.
Dash… The name sent a painful twist through their chest, and thoughts rose unbidden from the part of their heart in which fresh wounds refused to stay buried. If you were with me now, could we have been happy here?
Would you even have made it this far?
Their eyes were starting to burn again, and Frisk shoved the dangerous feeling back into its box.
This wasn’t the time to be thinking about Dash and making themselves cry. Adults didn’t like tears.
I have to stay determined, and find a way out. Maybe afterward, I can come back, but there’s something I have to do first.
~*~*~*~
Somehow, in the last five minutes, the world had turned from a waking nightmare into a mocking dream.
The house was tidy and cute. Toriel was gentle, patient and affectionate – like a parent who actually wanted them, even though she’d met them just hours ago. The bedroom was nice, and while Frisk wasn’t sure what to make of the toys, the bed was so comfortable.
But even as they nestled under the covers, searching in vain for a desperately needed rest, there were two facts that wouldn’t stop running through their mind.
Dash wasn’t here.
And Frisk couldn’t stay.
This is everything he’d hoped it would be. Everything I hadn’t dared hope for. Everything I wasn’t even sure existed.
But he isn’t here to share it.
The warm embrace of the bed felt wrong, like a hug stolen from an unknowing stranger when the person who should have been hugging them was gone. Frisk squirmed in its suddenly smothering grasp, their fingers clenching with a desperate, unreasoning compulsion to do something, anything else.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t just stay and live his dream when he’s not here, and let everyone else forget about him.
Nobody out there even knows he’s dead, except for the person who killed him.
I have to go.
Their feet swung to the floor, only to retreat sharply as they touched the edge of something hard and wobbly. A startled gasp jerked through their throat, and they put their feet down more cautiously this time, groping with their hand for the obstacle.
A paper plate? With a… I think that’s pie on it? That wasn’t there before.
They straightened up, clutching the dish carefully with both hands as they glanced toward the bed.
Did I actually fall asleep? I don’t really feel rested, but I guess I must have, unless plates can move and talk like rocks do.
The sweet smells of cinnamon and butterscotch caressed their nose, and Frisk inhaled deeply, desire growling through their stomach. How long has it been since I ate? This pie smells really good.
For a moment, their fingers gripped the dessert, ready to bring it to their mouth… then they paused, trepidation crawling through their soul.
I shouldn’t. I don’t know when the next fight will be, or if I’ll get any more food before then. I should save this for the next time someone wants to kill me.
In the meantime…
As Frisk folded the plate around the pie and slipped it into their pocket, a twinge of guilt twisted through them.
How am I gonna tell Toriel? She was so happy about having someone living here. It seems like she’s really lonely, and she’s probably lost someone, too… how do I give her the bad news?
Maybe if I tell her I’ll come back… Yeah. That should work.
The floorboards creaked softly beneath Frisk’s feet as they padded out of the bedroom, and the warm crackle of a fireplace greeted them as they stepped into the hall. Blinking in the sudden light, they wandered into the living room, squinting owlishly at the towering monster who sat peacefully in her reading chair.
“Up already, I see?”
Rubbing their eyes, Frisk nodded, then glanced around. I wonder if I should say something else before asking to leave? Um…
“Um...” Unknowingly, Toriel echoed the faltering in Frisk’s train of thought. “I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here.”
Oh nooo…
The child’s guilt instantly quadrupled, and for a moment, they almost reconsidered their entire quest. She really was lonely and then happy. And now I’m going to make her lonely again, even though she’s been nicer than I ever could have asked for.
I’m such a bad kid.
As Toriel began to cheerfully ramble about the books she wanted to share with them, the bug-hunting spots she wanted to show Frisk, the curriculum she’d prepared for their education, and her dream of becoming a teacher, the guilt continued to grow until its suffocating weight seemed like it would swallow them whole.
Maybe I should wait, and let her be happy for a while.
But wouldn’t that just get her more attached to me?
Oh, no. Now she’s asking what I want. This would probably be the time to tell her, but she’s going to be so upset…
“Uh…” Mustering their courage, Frisk drew in a deep breath, then took the plunge. “I… I’m really sorry, but… I have something I need to do. On the surface. It’s really important.”
Should I tell her what? No… if I told her I need to report a murder, she might worry that it would be too dangerous.
Should I tell her I can come back from the dead? No… then she’d want to know how I know, and she’d probably feel guilty.
“Um…” Once again, Toriel was hesitating. But this time, the pause was tinged with fear. “How about an exciting snail fact?”
What does that have to do with…
“Did you know that snails sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature?”
Despite their best intentions of staying focused, Frisk couldn’t help but be briefly sidetracked by that ludicrous snail fact. “You mean they start eating with their butts and pooping with their mouths?! But can’t they still taste it? Or do their tongues go into their butts too?”
For a moment, Toriel stared at them.
Frisk stared back.
Then the monster suddenly released a loud, alarming snort, and Frisk jolted backward before watching in confused fascination as she dissolved into laughter. So some grownups DO do that in real life. I hoped they did, but… this isn’t really the time.
As their would-be mother continued to giggle, Frisk stood shuffling in place, silently wondering whether they should wait it out, or quietly take their leave while Toriel was distracted.
Before they could make up their mind, a large, soft paw settled gently on their head. “How adorable!” Toriel commented. “Children have the most interesting perspectives on things, do they not? Well, let me know if you need anything else.”
But… that doesn’t answer my question. Any of my questions.
I still don’t know about snail tongue butts or how to leave.
Do monsters have some sort of selective brainpower, like how Vegetoids can talk but they can’t understand talking, or Toriel seems to understand most things except for questions? Maybe fuzzy white monsters just don’t understand questions. I’ll have to try just saying it.
“I’m sorry; I, uh… I need to go now. I’ll come back when I can.”
And just like that, the expression of fearful, pained concern was back, and Toriel was pushing herself to her feet. “I have to do something.”
In a few quick movements, she tucked the book into the chair, took off her reading glasses, and strode toward the stairs, her long legs devouring the distance at an urgent walk that was faster than Frisk could run.
Did I make her mad? Is she leaving me? Is she getting a stick or a belt or something?
Fear flared through Frisk’s body, and they glanced toward the front door. Should I run? No… that place is full of monsters that want to kill me. If I go there, I’ll definitely get hurt.
I should go tell Toriel it’ll be OK. Maybe she’s just sad and lonely because I’m leaving. If I convince her that I’ll be OK and I’ll come back, maybe she’ll let me go without getting too angry.
It’s worth a shot.
~*~*~*~
The warmth of Toriel’s cozy house shrank swiftly into the distance, and the smooth, cold walls of the basement hallway stretched in front of Frisk, like a portal channeling them from a hopeful dream back into the life they’d always known.
In front of them, the monster’s footsteps were swift and relentless, and even as Frisk sprinted to catch up with her, fear drove their hand into their pocket, groping for the ribbon.
If I’m cuter, she won’t hit me as hard, right?
...Right?
The hasty whisper of fur-softened footsteps ceased abruptly, and Frisk stumbled to a halt beside Toriel, close enough to see her face but too far away to be easily grabbed.
Now, at last, the monster spoke, and while her face remained gentle, her eerily calm tone was steeled with resolve.
“Ahead of us lies the end of the Ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the Underground.” She drew a deep breath, her shoulders rising as if her already towering body was growing to match the magnitude of her words. “I am going to destroy it.”
No! Fear pounded through Frisk’s chest, and their mind began to race. No, no… I can’t let her do that! If I stay here, no one will ever know how Dash died, and the person who killed him can go and kill more people. I have to get out and tell people!
But how do I stop her?
Her hands were already curling into fists, and the sight made Frisk shrink away. She’s huge, and she throws fire. She hasn’t gotten angry yet, but how much more can I push her before things get dangerous?
Toriel’s voice returned, steady and grim, as if reminding herself why this had to be done. “No one will ever be able to leave again. Now be a good child, and go upstairs.”
Those swift, soft footsteps started again, and Frisk forced themselves to jog after her, even as a lifetime of conditioning screamed at them to do as they’d been told.
I have to do this, they reminded themselves. And if it goes wrong, I can come back from the dead. Whatever happens this time, I’ll learn from it, and I’ll try again if I have to.
Maybe while she’s destroying the exit, I can slip through and escape.
Then Toriel froze in place, and her face transformed. Those wide, bright eyes went narrow, and her peacefully arched eyebrows flattened as if beneath the weight of grim memory. “Every human that falls down here meets the same fate,” she said quietly, refusing to look at Frisk as she spoke. “I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die.
“You naive child.” At last, her eyes locked with Frisk’s, ablaze with pain and desperation that belied the forced calm of her face. “If you leave the ruins, they… Asgore… will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand? Go to your room.”
Silence fell in the wake of her words, and as Toriel turned sharply and began to walk again, everything she’d said and done flashed through Frisk’s mind in a disturbing new light.
So that’s why she was so determined not to let me leave. Why she ignored me the first time I said I had to go, and was so worried about me getting hurt.
I was right… she has lost people. And she’s scared to lose me, too.
Pity, fear, and futile hope begged their feet to stay frozen. But as their would-be mother slipped out of sight, Frisk forced their legs back into motion, tears stinging their throat and eyes as they stumbled into a run.
I’m sorry, Toriel. I want to be a good child. I don’t want to worry you.
But if I don’t tell people there’s a murderer on the loose, then other moms and kids like us will lose the people they love.
~*~*~*~
The exit loomed before them in a towering arch of magenta, its surface staring down at Frisk through three black triangles shaped like a face that laughed at their fear. Above the triangles, a pair of raven wings spread ominously, framing Toriel’s glaring features as she turned to look at the human.
“You want to leave so badly?” Her voice was stern and sharp, its steel surface cracked by the tremor of a mother on the verge of losing her child. Then her tone flattened, desperation giving way to a grim, focused resolve. “Hmph. You are just like the others. There is only one solution to this.”
Her eyes narrowed, and fire flared from the palms of her massive hands. “Prove yourself. Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.”
A gasp rushed through Frisk’s lungs, and the sight of the fire drove one of their feet backward… but the other foot stayed planted. I can’t give up. I can’t show weakness or fear.
I have to prove that I’m strong enough.
Lines of sickeningly familiar light raced across the floor, enclosing Frisk in a prison they’d hoped they’d never have to connect with the woman who’d offered them safety and hope.
The box of magic closed between the mother and child, cutting them off from each other, and Frisk’s heart sank as their mind resigned itself to the return of the world they’d always known.
I should’ve known it was just a matter of time. I knew it was going to be like this.
Fireballs rained from the ceiling, weaving from side to side in bewilderingly complex patterns. Frisk tried to dart and dodge between them, but there was so much fire, and it was moving in such dense, tangled sweeps, that they barely lasted three seconds before a flame touched their skin in a hiss of steam and pain.
Water stung the edges of their eyes, and as they stumbled away from the thickest part of the attack, they searched the gaps in the veil between combatants for some sign of remorse in their would-be mother’s stare.
They couldn’t tell whether there was one or not. Toriel stood silent and aloof, her face still set in the same flat mask it had fallen into when she’d warned them about Asgore.
No rage. Just resignation. No confusion like the Froggits displayed; she knew exactly what she was doing.
She was trying to protect them, but it hurt so much. Just like a part of them had always known it would.
No matter how nice they seem at first, or what their reason, it always happens sooner or later.
Grownups always have a reason to hit me.
Toriel’s turn ended, and Frisk hesitated. She said to make monsters stop by talking to them, so… maybe I should talk to her? I could talk about… um…
Their mouth opened to enact their plan, but every word died before it could escape.
They couldn’t tell her they wouldn’t get hurt, because they probably would. And they couldn’t tell her they’d resurrect, because then she’d know they’d already died.
They couldn’t ask about snail butts, because that hadn’t accomplished anything the first time around.
Asking about Asgore would make her think about her reasons for keeping them there. Telling her how important their mission was might make her ask questions until she found out how dangerous it was.
They couldn’t think of any conversation topics that wouldn’t make things worse.
Ironically, talking did not seem to be the solution to this situation.
She said to prove I’m strong enough. Being strong enough to live means winning fights, right? The stick emerged from their pocket, and lifted for a swing… then wavered to a halt.
I don’t want to hit her. It was bad enough that I hit those Vegetoids, and she isn’t like them. She isn’t killing me and laughing about it; she’s just trying to make sure I won’t get caught by Asgore if I’m too weak to stop them from killing me.
She doesn’t deserve for me to hit her.
The stick lowered, and Toriel gritted her teeth, pouring fire from her hands. Frisk dashed frantically among the flames, then spend their next turn hesitating, their mind torn between obedience and fear. I know you want me to fight you, but I can’t go through that again. Please, PLEASE, stop before I have to hit you!
Fire filled the air again, and again, and again, and as Frisk’s HP fell dangerously low, their grip on the branch began to tighten.
“What are you doing?” Toriel demanded, responding to yet another refusal with a torrent of flame. “Attack or run away!”
She isn’t stopping. They never stop. I don’t want to… I DON’T WANT TO…
Their fingers spasmed tight on the stick, and their eyes and teeth clenched shut. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but if this is the only solution you’ll accept…
The stick struck Toriel on the hip, and Frisk flinched harder than the target of their attack. A whimper pierced the chill basement air, and their hand trembled so desperately that the stick nearly shook its way free.
Toriel fell silent, and the battle continued. Bit by bit, the pyromancer’s HP slowly fell, while Frisk struggled to stay clear of the fireballs and slowly sweeping hands.
Her HP is getting low. She’s got to give up soon, right? The Froggit said if a monster’s almost defeated, they might not want to fight anymore, and if I can get her HP really low without killing her, I’ll have proved myself and she’ll let me go.
She’s only got enough life left for two more attacks. I’ll have to be careful… I’ll only attack at half power…
The stick streaked through the air, connecting with the monster at half the speed it had before. For a split second, Frisk opened their mouth to ask if they could leave – then the words died in their chest, along with part of their heart.
Toriel’s HP was gone.
NO- how?!… She had enough left to survive a weak attack!
Numbers floated above the stricken woman’s head, ten times more than Frisk had expected, and thoughts reeled through their mind like paper shredding in the wind.
“Urgh…”
The monster slumped forward, her knees striking the floor in tandem with the stick that fell from Frisk’s nerveless fingers. “Toriel?!”
The answering voice was thick with pain, forced slowly from a wounded chest Toriel clutched with one trembling hand. “You are stronger than I thought.” Her eyes, which had squeezed shut as she fell, forced themselves open and locked on Frisk’s. “Listen to me, small one. If you go beyond this door, keep walking as far as you can. Eventually, you will reach an exit.”
But – but what about you? Aren’t you going to heal yourself? Toriel?!
They’d meant to say the words aloud. But the only sound that escaped their throat was a small, strangled whimper.
“Asgore…” There was that word again, laden with dread. “Do not let Asgore take your soul. His plan cannot be allowed to succeed.”
Take… my soul? What plan? What’s he going to do with me? Does taking my soul… mean I can’t come back from the dead anymore?
For just a moment, the ominous warning pulled part of their mind away from the tragedy unfolding in front of them.
Then Toriel’s face twisted with a fresh wave of pain, and Frisk rushed forward, trying to hold her wound shut with hands far too small for the task. “Toriel, hold on! You have to heal yourself! Toriel, please!”
If the monster heard their desperate plea, she gave no sign of it. “Be good, won’t you?” A small, sad smile blossomed through the pain, tearing a new gash in Frisk’s heart. “…My child.”
The chest beneath Frisk’s hands dissolved, and a strangled scream tore from their throat as Toriel fell apart. As the monster’s dust settled to the floor, another shriek split the cold air, then another, then a fourth.
Somewhere outside the Ruins, a skeleton paused and listened, trepidation rising in his chest as the distant cries seeped eerily into the Snowdin cold.
But inside the sealed sanctuary, Frisk was oblivious to his fear. All they could feel was the dust on their hands, the shock that turned their thoughts to static, and the howling void where a mother’s love had disappeared forever, leaving a horrified chasm of loss and guilt behind.
~*~*~*~
I can’t believe I did that.
The room had finally gone silent, hoarseness stealing the sound from Frisk’s aching throat. I can’t believe I… she was trying to protect me, she was going to take care of me, she wasn’t even mad when I attacked her, and I… I… I KILLED HER…
Somewhere in the distance, a faint but urgent tapping noise tugged at the fringe of their consciousness, along with a muffled voice too far away for the words to be discernible. Did someone hear me screaming? Are they about to find out what I did?
Are they going to kill me now?
I… The fist that had clenched in panic went limp, and their tear-reddened eyes fell to Toriel’s dust. I’d deserve it.
Though, even if they did kill me, I would just…
A gasp jolted through Frisk’s chest, and their eyes suddenly went wide. That’s right! I’m so stupid!
If I die, I’ll go back in time!
I haven’t touched one of those yellow stars since I killed her. I have to go now, before I save my progress and I can’t undo this!
The mysterious knocking person would have to wait. For now, the sound was swallowed by footsteps as Frisk fled down the hall, up the stairs so fast that they tripped on the last step, and back into the Ruins with all the speed that hope and desperation could offer them.
~*~*~*~
The moment Frisk reappeared outside Toriel’s home, their soul still quivering with the memory of the Froggit’s final blow, they bolted into the house as if pursued by an army of Vegetoids. “Toriel?!”
And there she was. Startled and alarmed by the panic in Frisk’s voice, oblivious to the reason for their fear… but alive.
“My child? What is it? You look like you have seen a ghost.”
“I…” Frisk’s mouth opened, only to find itself empty of words. What do I tell her? That I’m a time traveler? That I killed her a few minutes ago? No… that’s creepy. She’d think I was a liar. “I… uh… I did see a ghost. And they cried on me.”
To their relief, her face tensed in a way that told them no further explanation was needed. “Oh, dear. That sounds dangerous.” Her hand extended to settle on their head. “Worry not, small one. You are safe in here.”
“I know. Th-thank you.”
I wish I could believe that. I wish it could keep being true.
I wish I didn’t have to go back to that basement so soon after I… I… “I’m sorry.” Their trembling hands gripped each other, trying to hold each other still.
For just a moment, they closed their eyes, silently mourning for the life with which fate so cruelly tempted them.
Then they forced their gaze to lift, and looked Toriel in the eyes. “I want to stay here. I really do. I know you’re happy about having someone here, and I’m really sorry to do this to you. But I have to go. There’s something important I need to do on the surface. If… when I’m done, I could come back.”
There it was again: that look of fear, the quick mutter of “I am sorry… there is something I need to do, too.”
And then Toriel was power-walking into the basement, and Frisk once again forced their tired legs to run in her wake.
~*~*~*~
I wish I knew how to talk her out of this fight. How many turns is this going to take?!
Fire rushed past Frisk’s face, and they darted away from it, only to collide with Toriel’s huge, sweeping hand. The fire vanished as her arm jerked back, and Frisk staggered into a ready stance, staring at their would-be mother with pleading, desperate eyes. Please give up. Please stop trying to make me fight you.
I can’t do that. Not again.
Toriel’s eyes met theirs, and for an instant, her face tightened in the faintest ghost of a flinch. “Stop it,” she protested, readying yet another salvo. “Stop looking at me that way.”
It’s getting to her! A flaming projectile struck their leg, and they fell to one knee before scrambling to their feet. She’s susceptible to puppy eyes! If I just keep giving her puppy eyes, maybe she’ll stop!
Another fireball grazed their arm, and as the volley ended, their hand almost strayed to their pocket in search of the slice of pie. Then they froze, and everything inside them sank with disappointment. Oh. Right. I didn’t go to sleep this time, so I didn’t get the pie.
Fiery tightness rose in their throat, and they clenched their teeth and swallowed it back.
It’s a really small thing to get upset about. I can’t let myself cry over it. But… I was really looking forward to that pie.
Two more turns passed in silence, and Frisk forced themselves to focus on dodging and not think of all the things this fight was going to cost them. Notice the patterns. Find safe places in the box. Focus on that.
As the child’s HP fell, the fireballs started to break away from their frighteningly complex patterns. Flames still poured from Toriel’s hands, but they slipped harmlessly along the edges of the box, and the sight made Frisk’s shoulders slump with relief. She isn’t going to kill me. Even if I don’t use any healing items, she still won’t kill me.
She really isn’t like other grownups.
And I definitely can’t risk killing her.
Without knowing what to say, and not daring to attack, Frisk continued giving Toriel their cutest pleading stare, while a Froggit’s words echoed through their head.
It said someday I might have to spare someone who wasn’t showing that they were ready to be spared. I didn’t think ‘someday’ meant ‘today’, but it looks like it does.
Wait… did she just stop attacking?
Frisk’s eyes rose tentatively, and were met by a sad, worried stare whose pleading desperation matched their own.
“I know you want to go home.” Toriel’s voice was softer than they’d ever heard it before, muted by something far heavier than the deliberate gentleness of a reassuring parent. “But please… go upstairs now. I promise I will take good care of you here. We do not have much, but… we can have a good life here.”
I know. And they doubted Toriel would ever know how much that knowledge hurt. I know we can have a good life. Maybe the only chance for a good life I’ll ever have.
I wish I didn’t have to throw it away. But if I don’t…
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t tell you why I’m making this so difficult, why I can’t go back upstairs. It’ll only make you worry more.
But I also have people I need to protect.
~*~*~*~
For a few hopeful seconds, Frisk had thought there was still a way for things to be all right. They could find the hole in the mountain again; this happy life with Toriel didn’t have to be just a memory of regret.
But now, as her fur-muffled footsteps receded into the hall behind them, and their own feet carried them resolutely forward, her soft, sad words echoed in their head like a door closing in their face.
“When you leave… please do not come back.”
I should’ve known.
A rhythm of self-recrimination pounded through Frisk’s pulse, and hot pain stung the backs of their eyes as they left the hope of safety and happiness behind. I should have known it was too good to be true. Even she can’t forgive everything.
I didn’t listen. I was bad.
Of course she doesn’t want me back.
The feeling of Toriel’s parting hug still lingered on their skin, and Frisk’s arms enclosed their narrow chest in an echo of the embrace. That hug… it felt nice.
I wonder if anyone will ever hug me again.
The question unleashed a wave of pain that nearly pushed one of the unshed tears from their eyes, and Frisk’ teeth clenched as they forced it all down. I need to be tough. I can’t cry. I’m not supposed to be weak and cry.
A dark opening yawned before them, and as the child stepped through it, the lonely ache was shoved aside by a sudden bolt of fear.
In the middle of the path ahead, a familiar circle of golden petals framed a bitter, condescending smile, and Frisk’s breath froze in their throat.
“Clever. Verrrryyy clever,” Flowey drawled. “You think you’re really smart, don’t you?”
One of Frisk’s feet slid backward in retreat, while the other refused to move away from its destination. “W-what? What do you mean?”
The sour smile suddenly brightened into a familiar grin, and Flowey’s head rose higher on his stem, looming over the shrinking child. “Did you forget? In this world, it’s kill or be killed.”
The words washed over them in a tide of dark memories, and Frisk’s hands tightened into fists as the image of three dead Vegetoids flared through their mind. “Not always,” they protested, and Flowey’s gaze strayed off to the side.
“So you were able to play by your own rules.” His face suddenly warped, eerie white pupils flaring in the depths of pitch-black eyes, which stared out from a face that could’ve belonged to a goat monster’s skeleton. “You spared the life of a single person. Hee hee hee… But don’t act so cocky. I know what you did.”
As abruptly as it had appeared, the skeletal visage morphed into a twisted echo of Toriel’s face. “You murdered her. And then you went back, because you regretted it.”
He knows?! “H-how… how did you…” The words died in their paralyzed throat, but their mind continued reeling. I don’t get it; nobody remembers. No one ever remembers…
The flower watched their expression for a moment, then burst into cruel laughter. “You naive idiot. Do you think you are the only one with that power? The power to reshape the world… purely by your own determination. The ability to play God! The ability to ‘save’.”
The pieces started to crash into place, and Frisk’s pulse felt like it would suffocate them. “Y-you… you can remember, too? A-and you…”
Oh, NO. Can he go back in time, too? Could he send me back over and over, to relive the same awful moments again and again?
“That’s right. I remember EVERYTHING. Hee hee hee… You know, I thought I was the only one with that power. But…” He broke eye contact again, as if the answer to his musing was written on the doorway through which Frisk had just come. “I can’t save anymore. Apparently YOUR desires for this world override MINE.”
The words sent a mixture of triumph, relief and fear coursing through the young human. So he can’t mess with time and trap me in a time loop. Thank goodness.
But… “Are you mad at me about that? Is that why you attacked me?”
For a moment, the flower just stared at them. Then he started laughing again, in a way that made Frisk wonder what they could do to make sure that they never made him laugh again. “Of course not. I had MUCH better reasons than that. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”
“Can’t you-” For a second, Frisk thought about asking him to show them now. To give some explanation about why he’d tricked them and tried to murder them.
But then they realized that could be taken as an invitation to try again, and clamped their mouth shut.
From the way Flowey grinned, they suspected he had read their mind. “It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Being killed. You’re afraid that if you push your luck, I’ll kill you, aren’t you?”
Frisk’s jaw tightened, and that horrible grin grew wider. “Don’t worry, little monarch. You may have stolen my throne as the prince of this world’s future, but I’m not planning regicide. Watching your reign will be MUCH more interesting. Though when it comes to being killed… hee hee… do you remember those three Vegetoids?”
Guilt plunged through Frisk’s stomach like a ten-pound rock, and the sight stretched Flowey’s smile to hideous proportions. “Do you think any of them had families? Do you think any of them had friends? Each one could have been someone else’s Toriel.”
A whimper lodged itself behind Frisk’s trembling lips, and Flowey seemed to bask in their shame. “Selfish brat. Somebody is dead because of you.”
But I… they… they were trying to kill me! Just like you- A flare of anger pushed back the guilt, and Frisk took a step forward, forcing their voice through a throat that threatened to choke it. “You aren’t one to talk! You tried to kill me!”
“Oh?” His face tilted to the side, once again warping into a mockery of Toriel’s. “Are you somebody’s Toriel? Would anybody miss you if you were gone?”
The words struck like a blow to their whole body, and Frisk stumbled backward, their breath faltering in their throat.
“When you leave… please do not come back.”
The words assailed them in a gale of painful memory, and Flowey giggled. “That’s what I thought. Not that it probably matters. Even if nobody wants you to, you’ll keep coming back. Because that’s what creatures like us do.
“Well well. Enjoy that power while you can. I’ll be watching.”
A wide hallway yawned into view on their left, and Frisk peered cautiously around the corner, quieting their breathing as their eyes darted in search of attackers or a way out.
To their mixed relief and disappointment, the only noteworthy thing in the room was a patch of the Ruins’ ubiquitous red leaves arranged in a wide ‘t’ shape, as if this place had been given special attention by someone both meticulous enough to sculpt their leaf piles, and peculiar enough to place them in the middle of the path.
I wonder if the person who rakes the leaves lives here. I should be extra careful; I don’t want them to use their rake on me.
Their quiet feet skirted carefully around the brittle foliage, and as they slipped through the doorway at the end of the room, something rushed toward their face in a flash of dull crimson.
They jolted away from it with a cry, then their eyes followed the spinning leaf as it tumbled to the ground. As the small projectile skidded to a halt, Frisk’s gaze rose to its source, and their heart sank.
It was the saddest tree they’d ever seen. Its bark was black and rough with age, and its jagged branches were naked and bereft, as if they struggled each day to grow a leaf, only to have it fall into the pile that surrounded the weathered trunk.
It looks so empty and lonely. Like it wants to grow leaves so badly, and they just keep on leaving… it…
Fiery tightness gripped their throat, and their teeth clenched on the inside of their cheek, fighting the burning tide that threatened to well up in their eyes. No. I’m not going to think about people leaving. I’m not going to cry.
A determined foot landed firmly on the path ahead, only to freeze as a soft, anxious voice suddenly sounded ahead of them. “Oh dear, that took longer than I thought it would.”
OH, NO.
A familiar white-and-purple figure hurried into view, a black cell phone rising toward her ear, and Frisk took a terrified step backward.
I have to hide – oh crap, she saw me! She knows I left the room!
Is there still dust on my shoes? Will she know I killed those Vegetoids?
I’ve been bad… I’ve been so bad, there’s no way she isn’t going to-
“How did you get here, my child?” Toriel’s voice cut through their thoughts, a river of worried confusion where they’d expected angry fire. Before they could try to find an answer that wouldn’t stoke the flames, she continued, “Are you hurt?”
Confusion shot through Frisk’s mind, and they unconsciously reached up to touch the bruise that was forming on their nose. Toriel’s eyebrows tensed in dismay, and she held up a massive hand, watching with something strangely like pity as the child flinched away. “There, there, I will heal you.”
A warm, soothing glow washed across their battered face and soul, and the pain suddenly faded away, just as it had after their encounter with Flowey.
“I should not have left you alone for so long,” Toriel continued. “It was irresponsible to try to surprise you like this. Err…”
Surprise and embarrassment washed across the monster’s fuzzy features, then her smile returned. “Well, I suppose I cannot hide it any longer. Come, small one!”
She isn’t even mad at me. She blamed herself, not me.
Since when do grownups do that?
As they followed her in a small half-circle around the tree, the tall purple walls of a house came into view. A patch of leaves adorned the ground in front of each window, and a flood of tension drained from Frisk’s shoulders as the gleam of a save point flared among the foliage.
They didn’t dare keep Toriel waiting, but they skirted sideways long enough to touch the yellow light before trailing her through the front door.
Maybe Dash was right – maybe monsters ARE different from humans. At least some of them.
Dash… The name sent a painful twist through their chest, and thoughts rose unbidden from the part of their heart in which fresh wounds refused to stay buried. If you were with me now, could we have been happy here?
Would you even have made it this far?
Their eyes were starting to burn again, and Frisk shoved the dangerous feeling back into its box.
This wasn’t the time to be thinking about Dash and making themselves cry. Adults didn’t like tears.
I have to stay determined, and find a way out. Maybe afterward, I can come back, but there’s something I have to do first.
~*~*~*~
Somehow, in the last five minutes, the world had turned from a waking nightmare into a mocking dream.
The house was tidy and cute. Toriel was gentle, patient and affectionate – like a parent who actually wanted them, even though she’d met them just hours ago. The bedroom was nice, and while Frisk wasn’t sure what to make of the toys, the bed was so comfortable.
But even as they nestled under the covers, searching in vain for a desperately needed rest, there were two facts that wouldn’t stop running through their mind.
Dash wasn’t here.
And Frisk couldn’t stay.
This is everything he’d hoped it would be. Everything I hadn’t dared hope for. Everything I wasn’t even sure existed.
But he isn’t here to share it.
The warm embrace of the bed felt wrong, like a hug stolen from an unknowing stranger when the person who should have been hugging them was gone. Frisk squirmed in its suddenly smothering grasp, their fingers clenching with a desperate, unreasoning compulsion to do something, anything else.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t just stay and live his dream when he’s not here, and let everyone else forget about him.
Nobody out there even knows he’s dead, except for the person who killed him.
I have to go.
Their feet swung to the floor, only to retreat sharply as they touched the edge of something hard and wobbly. A startled gasp jerked through their throat, and they put their feet down more cautiously this time, groping with their hand for the obstacle.
A paper plate? With a… I think that’s pie on it? That wasn’t there before.
They straightened up, clutching the dish carefully with both hands as they glanced toward the bed.
Did I actually fall asleep? I don’t really feel rested, but I guess I must have, unless plates can move and talk like rocks do.
The sweet smells of cinnamon and butterscotch caressed their nose, and Frisk inhaled deeply, desire growling through their stomach. How long has it been since I ate? This pie smells really good.
For a moment, their fingers gripped the dessert, ready to bring it to their mouth… then they paused, trepidation crawling through their soul.
I shouldn’t. I don’t know when the next fight will be, or if I’ll get any more food before then. I should save this for the next time someone wants to kill me.
In the meantime…
As Frisk folded the plate around the pie and slipped it into their pocket, a twinge of guilt twisted through them.
How am I gonna tell Toriel? She was so happy about having someone living here. It seems like she’s really lonely, and she’s probably lost someone, too… how do I give her the bad news?
Maybe if I tell her I’ll come back… Yeah. That should work.
The floorboards creaked softly beneath Frisk’s feet as they padded out of the bedroom, and the warm crackle of a fireplace greeted them as they stepped into the hall. Blinking in the sudden light, they wandered into the living room, squinting owlishly at the towering monster who sat peacefully in her reading chair.
“Up already, I see?”
Rubbing their eyes, Frisk nodded, then glanced around. I wonder if I should say something else before asking to leave? Um…
“Um...” Unknowingly, Toriel echoed the faltering in Frisk’s train of thought. “I want you to know how glad I am to have someone here.”
Oh nooo…
The child’s guilt instantly quadrupled, and for a moment, they almost reconsidered their entire quest. She really was lonely and then happy. And now I’m going to make her lonely again, even though she’s been nicer than I ever could have asked for.
I’m such a bad kid.
As Toriel began to cheerfully ramble about the books she wanted to share with them, the bug-hunting spots she wanted to show Frisk, the curriculum she’d prepared for their education, and her dream of becoming a teacher, the guilt continued to grow until its suffocating weight seemed like it would swallow them whole.
Maybe I should wait, and let her be happy for a while.
But wouldn’t that just get her more attached to me?
Oh, no. Now she’s asking what I want. This would probably be the time to tell her, but she’s going to be so upset…
“Uh…” Mustering their courage, Frisk drew in a deep breath, then took the plunge. “I… I’m really sorry, but… I have something I need to do. On the surface. It’s really important.”
Should I tell her what? No… if I told her I need to report a murder, she might worry that it would be too dangerous.
Should I tell her I can come back from the dead? No… then she’d want to know how I know, and she’d probably feel guilty.
“Um…” Once again, Toriel was hesitating. But this time, the pause was tinged with fear. “How about an exciting snail fact?”
What does that have to do with…
“Did you know that snails sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature?”
Despite their best intentions of staying focused, Frisk couldn’t help but be briefly sidetracked by that ludicrous snail fact. “You mean they start eating with their butts and pooping with their mouths?! But can’t they still taste it? Or do their tongues go into their butts too?”
For a moment, Toriel stared at them.
Frisk stared back.
Then the monster suddenly released a loud, alarming snort, and Frisk jolted backward before watching in confused fascination as she dissolved into laughter. So some grownups DO do that in real life. I hoped they did, but… this isn’t really the time.
As their would-be mother continued to giggle, Frisk stood shuffling in place, silently wondering whether they should wait it out, or quietly take their leave while Toriel was distracted.
Before they could make up their mind, a large, soft paw settled gently on their head. “How adorable!” Toriel commented. “Children have the most interesting perspectives on things, do they not? Well, let me know if you need anything else.”
But… that doesn’t answer my question. Any of my questions.
I still don’t know about snail tongue butts or how to leave.
Do monsters have some sort of selective brainpower, like how Vegetoids can talk but they can’t understand talking, or Toriel seems to understand most things except for questions? Maybe fuzzy white monsters just don’t understand questions. I’ll have to try just saying it.
“I’m sorry; I, uh… I need to go now. I’ll come back when I can.”
And just like that, the expression of fearful, pained concern was back, and Toriel was pushing herself to her feet. “I have to do something.”
In a few quick movements, she tucked the book into the chair, took off her reading glasses, and strode toward the stairs, her long legs devouring the distance at an urgent walk that was faster than Frisk could run.
Did I make her mad? Is she leaving me? Is she getting a stick or a belt or something?
Fear flared through Frisk’s body, and they glanced toward the front door. Should I run? No… that place is full of monsters that want to kill me. If I go there, I’ll definitely get hurt.
I should go tell Toriel it’ll be OK. Maybe she’s just sad and lonely because I’m leaving. If I convince her that I’ll be OK and I’ll come back, maybe she’ll let me go without getting too angry.
It’s worth a shot.
~*~*~*~
The warmth of Toriel’s cozy house shrank swiftly into the distance, and the smooth, cold walls of the basement hallway stretched in front of Frisk, like a portal channeling them from a hopeful dream back into the life they’d always known.
In front of them, the monster’s footsteps were swift and relentless, and even as Frisk sprinted to catch up with her, fear drove their hand into their pocket, groping for the ribbon.
If I’m cuter, she won’t hit me as hard, right?
...Right?
The hasty whisper of fur-softened footsteps ceased abruptly, and Frisk stumbled to a halt beside Toriel, close enough to see her face but too far away to be easily grabbed.
Now, at last, the monster spoke, and while her face remained gentle, her eerily calm tone was steeled with resolve.
“Ahead of us lies the end of the Ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the Underground.” She drew a deep breath, her shoulders rising as if her already towering body was growing to match the magnitude of her words. “I am going to destroy it.”
No! Fear pounded through Frisk’s chest, and their mind began to race. No, no… I can’t let her do that! If I stay here, no one will ever know how Dash died, and the person who killed him can go and kill more people. I have to get out and tell people!
But how do I stop her?
Her hands were already curling into fists, and the sight made Frisk shrink away. She’s huge, and she throws fire. She hasn’t gotten angry yet, but how much more can I push her before things get dangerous?
Toriel’s voice returned, steady and grim, as if reminding herself why this had to be done. “No one will ever be able to leave again. Now be a good child, and go upstairs.”
Those swift, soft footsteps started again, and Frisk forced themselves to jog after her, even as a lifetime of conditioning screamed at them to do as they’d been told.
I have to do this, they reminded themselves. And if it goes wrong, I can come back from the dead. Whatever happens this time, I’ll learn from it, and I’ll try again if I have to.
Maybe while she’s destroying the exit, I can slip through and escape.
Then Toriel froze in place, and her face transformed. Those wide, bright eyes went narrow, and her peacefully arched eyebrows flattened as if beneath the weight of grim memory. “Every human that falls down here meets the same fate,” she said quietly, refusing to look at Frisk as she spoke. “I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die.
“You naive child.” At last, her eyes locked with Frisk’s, ablaze with pain and desperation that belied the forced calm of her face. “If you leave the ruins, they… Asgore… will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand? Go to your room.”
Silence fell in the wake of her words, and as Toriel turned sharply and began to walk again, everything she’d said and done flashed through Frisk’s mind in a disturbing new light.
So that’s why she was so determined not to let me leave. Why she ignored me the first time I said I had to go, and was so worried about me getting hurt.
I was right… she has lost people. And she’s scared to lose me, too.
Pity, fear, and futile hope begged their feet to stay frozen. But as their would-be mother slipped out of sight, Frisk forced their legs back into motion, tears stinging their throat and eyes as they stumbled into a run.
I’m sorry, Toriel. I want to be a good child. I don’t want to worry you.
But if I don’t tell people there’s a murderer on the loose, then other moms and kids like us will lose the people they love.
~*~*~*~
The exit loomed before them in a towering arch of magenta, its surface staring down at Frisk through three black triangles shaped like a face that laughed at their fear. Above the triangles, a pair of raven wings spread ominously, framing Toriel’s glaring features as she turned to look at the human.
“You want to leave so badly?” Her voice was stern and sharp, its steel surface cracked by the tremor of a mother on the verge of losing her child. Then her tone flattened, desperation giving way to a grim, focused resolve. “Hmph. You are just like the others. There is only one solution to this.”
Her eyes narrowed, and fire flared from the palms of her massive hands. “Prove yourself. Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.”
A gasp rushed through Frisk’s lungs, and the sight of the fire drove one of their feet backward… but the other foot stayed planted. I can’t give up. I can’t show weakness or fear.
I have to prove that I’m strong enough.
Lines of sickeningly familiar light raced across the floor, enclosing Frisk in a prison they’d hoped they’d never have to connect with the woman who’d offered them safety and hope.
The box of magic closed between the mother and child, cutting them off from each other, and Frisk’s heart sank as their mind resigned itself to the return of the world they’d always known.
I should’ve known it was just a matter of time. I knew it was going to be like this.
Fireballs rained from the ceiling, weaving from side to side in bewilderingly complex patterns. Frisk tried to dart and dodge between them, but there was so much fire, and it was moving in such dense, tangled sweeps, that they barely lasted three seconds before a flame touched their skin in a hiss of steam and pain.
Water stung the edges of their eyes, and as they stumbled away from the thickest part of the attack, they searched the gaps in the veil between combatants for some sign of remorse in their would-be mother’s stare.
They couldn’t tell whether there was one or not. Toriel stood silent and aloof, her face still set in the same flat mask it had fallen into when she’d warned them about Asgore.
No rage. Just resignation. No confusion like the Froggits displayed; she knew exactly what she was doing.
She was trying to protect them, but it hurt so much. Just like a part of them had always known it would.
No matter how nice they seem at first, or what their reason, it always happens sooner or later.
Grownups always have a reason to hit me.
Toriel’s turn ended, and Frisk hesitated. She said to make monsters stop by talking to them, so… maybe I should talk to her? I could talk about… um…
Their mouth opened to enact their plan, but every word died before it could escape.
They couldn’t tell her they wouldn’t get hurt, because they probably would. And they couldn’t tell her they’d resurrect, because then she’d know they’d already died.
They couldn’t ask about snail butts, because that hadn’t accomplished anything the first time around.
Asking about Asgore would make her think about her reasons for keeping them there. Telling her how important their mission was might make her ask questions until she found out how dangerous it was.
They couldn’t think of any conversation topics that wouldn’t make things worse.
Ironically, talking did not seem to be the solution to this situation.
She said to prove I’m strong enough. Being strong enough to live means winning fights, right? The stick emerged from their pocket, and lifted for a swing… then wavered to a halt.
I don’t want to hit her. It was bad enough that I hit those Vegetoids, and she isn’t like them. She isn’t killing me and laughing about it; she’s just trying to make sure I won’t get caught by Asgore if I’m too weak to stop them from killing me.
She doesn’t deserve for me to hit her.
The stick lowered, and Toriel gritted her teeth, pouring fire from her hands. Frisk dashed frantically among the flames, then spend their next turn hesitating, their mind torn between obedience and fear. I know you want me to fight you, but I can’t go through that again. Please, PLEASE, stop before I have to hit you!
Fire filled the air again, and again, and again, and as Frisk’s HP fell dangerously low, their grip on the branch began to tighten.
“What are you doing?” Toriel demanded, responding to yet another refusal with a torrent of flame. “Attack or run away!”
She isn’t stopping. They never stop. I don’t want to… I DON’T WANT TO…
Their fingers spasmed tight on the stick, and their eyes and teeth clenched shut. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but if this is the only solution you’ll accept…
The stick struck Toriel on the hip, and Frisk flinched harder than the target of their attack. A whimper pierced the chill basement air, and their hand trembled so desperately that the stick nearly shook its way free.
Toriel fell silent, and the battle continued. Bit by bit, the pyromancer’s HP slowly fell, while Frisk struggled to stay clear of the fireballs and slowly sweeping hands.
Her HP is getting low. She’s got to give up soon, right? The Froggit said if a monster’s almost defeated, they might not want to fight anymore, and if I can get her HP really low without killing her, I’ll have proved myself and she’ll let me go.
She’s only got enough life left for two more attacks. I’ll have to be careful… I’ll only attack at half power…
The stick streaked through the air, connecting with the monster at half the speed it had before. For a split second, Frisk opened their mouth to ask if they could leave – then the words died in their chest, along with part of their heart.
Toriel’s HP was gone.
NO- how?!… She had enough left to survive a weak attack!
Numbers floated above the stricken woman’s head, ten times more than Frisk had expected, and thoughts reeled through their mind like paper shredding in the wind.
“Urgh…”
The monster slumped forward, her knees striking the floor in tandem with the stick that fell from Frisk’s nerveless fingers. “Toriel?!”
The answering voice was thick with pain, forced slowly from a wounded chest Toriel clutched with one trembling hand. “You are stronger than I thought.” Her eyes, which had squeezed shut as she fell, forced themselves open and locked on Frisk’s. “Listen to me, small one. If you go beyond this door, keep walking as far as you can. Eventually, you will reach an exit.”
But – but what about you? Aren’t you going to heal yourself? Toriel?!
They’d meant to say the words aloud. But the only sound that escaped their throat was a small, strangled whimper.
“Asgore…” There was that word again, laden with dread. “Do not let Asgore take your soul. His plan cannot be allowed to succeed.”
Take… my soul? What plan? What’s he going to do with me? Does taking my soul… mean I can’t come back from the dead anymore?
For just a moment, the ominous warning pulled part of their mind away from the tragedy unfolding in front of them.
Then Toriel’s face twisted with a fresh wave of pain, and Frisk rushed forward, trying to hold her wound shut with hands far too small for the task. “Toriel, hold on! You have to heal yourself! Toriel, please!”
If the monster heard their desperate plea, she gave no sign of it. “Be good, won’t you?” A small, sad smile blossomed through the pain, tearing a new gash in Frisk’s heart. “…My child.”
The chest beneath Frisk’s hands dissolved, and a strangled scream tore from their throat as Toriel fell apart. As the monster’s dust settled to the floor, another shriek split the cold air, then another, then a fourth.
Somewhere outside the Ruins, a skeleton paused and listened, trepidation rising in his chest as the distant cries seeped eerily into the Snowdin cold.
But inside the sealed sanctuary, Frisk was oblivious to his fear. All they could feel was the dust on their hands, the shock that turned their thoughts to static, and the howling void where a mother’s love had disappeared forever, leaving a horrified chasm of loss and guilt behind.
~*~*~*~
I can’t believe I did that.
The room had finally gone silent, hoarseness stealing the sound from Frisk’s aching throat. I can’t believe I… she was trying to protect me, she was going to take care of me, she wasn’t even mad when I attacked her, and I… I… I KILLED HER…
Somewhere in the distance, a faint but urgent tapping noise tugged at the fringe of their consciousness, along with a muffled voice too far away for the words to be discernible. Did someone hear me screaming? Are they about to find out what I did?
Are they going to kill me now?
I… The fist that had clenched in panic went limp, and their tear-reddened eyes fell to Toriel’s dust. I’d deserve it.
Though, even if they did kill me, I would just…
A gasp jolted through Frisk’s chest, and their eyes suddenly went wide. That’s right! I’m so stupid!
If I die, I’ll go back in time!
I haven’t touched one of those yellow stars since I killed her. I have to go now, before I save my progress and I can’t undo this!
The mysterious knocking person would have to wait. For now, the sound was swallowed by footsteps as Frisk fled down the hall, up the stairs so fast that they tripped on the last step, and back into the Ruins with all the speed that hope and desperation could offer them.
~*~*~*~
The moment Frisk reappeared outside Toriel’s home, their soul still quivering with the memory of the Froggit’s final blow, they bolted into the house as if pursued by an army of Vegetoids. “Toriel?!”
And there she was. Startled and alarmed by the panic in Frisk’s voice, oblivious to the reason for their fear… but alive.
“My child? What is it? You look like you have seen a ghost.”
“I…” Frisk’s mouth opened, only to find itself empty of words. What do I tell her? That I’m a time traveler? That I killed her a few minutes ago? No… that’s creepy. She’d think I was a liar. “I… uh… I did see a ghost. And they cried on me.”
To their relief, her face tensed in a way that told them no further explanation was needed. “Oh, dear. That sounds dangerous.” Her hand extended to settle on their head. “Worry not, small one. You are safe in here.”
“I know. Th-thank you.”
I wish I could believe that. I wish it could keep being true.
I wish I didn’t have to go back to that basement so soon after I… I… “I’m sorry.” Their trembling hands gripped each other, trying to hold each other still.
For just a moment, they closed their eyes, silently mourning for the life with which fate so cruelly tempted them.
Then they forced their gaze to lift, and looked Toriel in the eyes. “I want to stay here. I really do. I know you’re happy about having someone here, and I’m really sorry to do this to you. But I have to go. There’s something important I need to do on the surface. If… when I’m done, I could come back.”
There it was again: that look of fear, the quick mutter of “I am sorry… there is something I need to do, too.”
And then Toriel was power-walking into the basement, and Frisk once again forced their tired legs to run in her wake.
~*~*~*~
I wish I knew how to talk her out of this fight. How many turns is this going to take?!
Fire rushed past Frisk’s face, and they darted away from it, only to collide with Toriel’s huge, sweeping hand. The fire vanished as her arm jerked back, and Frisk staggered into a ready stance, staring at their would-be mother with pleading, desperate eyes. Please give up. Please stop trying to make me fight you.
I can’t do that. Not again.
Toriel’s eyes met theirs, and for an instant, her face tightened in the faintest ghost of a flinch. “Stop it,” she protested, readying yet another salvo. “Stop looking at me that way.”
It’s getting to her! A flaming projectile struck their leg, and they fell to one knee before scrambling to their feet. She’s susceptible to puppy eyes! If I just keep giving her puppy eyes, maybe she’ll stop!
Another fireball grazed their arm, and as the volley ended, their hand almost strayed to their pocket in search of the slice of pie. Then they froze, and everything inside them sank with disappointment. Oh. Right. I didn’t go to sleep this time, so I didn’t get the pie.
Fiery tightness rose in their throat, and they clenched their teeth and swallowed it back.
It’s a really small thing to get upset about. I can’t let myself cry over it. But… I was really looking forward to that pie.
Two more turns passed in silence, and Frisk forced themselves to focus on dodging and not think of all the things this fight was going to cost them. Notice the patterns. Find safe places in the box. Focus on that.
As the child’s HP fell, the fireballs started to break away from their frighteningly complex patterns. Flames still poured from Toriel’s hands, but they slipped harmlessly along the edges of the box, and the sight made Frisk’s shoulders slump with relief. She isn’t going to kill me. Even if I don’t use any healing items, she still won’t kill me.
She really isn’t like other grownups.
And I definitely can’t risk killing her.
Without knowing what to say, and not daring to attack, Frisk continued giving Toriel their cutest pleading stare, while a Froggit’s words echoed through their head.
It said someday I might have to spare someone who wasn’t showing that they were ready to be spared. I didn’t think ‘someday’ meant ‘today’, but it looks like it does.
Wait… did she just stop attacking?
Frisk’s eyes rose tentatively, and were met by a sad, worried stare whose pleading desperation matched their own.
“I know you want to go home.” Toriel’s voice was softer than they’d ever heard it before, muted by something far heavier than the deliberate gentleness of a reassuring parent. “But please… go upstairs now. I promise I will take good care of you here. We do not have much, but… we can have a good life here.”
I know. And they doubted Toriel would ever know how much that knowledge hurt. I know we can have a good life. Maybe the only chance for a good life I’ll ever have.
I wish I didn’t have to throw it away. But if I don’t…
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t tell you why I’m making this so difficult, why I can’t go back upstairs. It’ll only make you worry more.
But I also have people I need to protect.
~*~*~*~
For a few hopeful seconds, Frisk had thought there was still a way for things to be all right. They could find the hole in the mountain again; this happy life with Toriel didn’t have to be just a memory of regret.
But now, as her fur-muffled footsteps receded into the hall behind them, and their own feet carried them resolutely forward, her soft, sad words echoed in their head like a door closing in their face.
“When you leave… please do not come back.”
I should’ve known.
A rhythm of self-recrimination pounded through Frisk’s pulse, and hot pain stung the backs of their eyes as they left the hope of safety and happiness behind. I should have known it was too good to be true. Even she can’t forgive everything.
I didn’t listen. I was bad.
Of course she doesn’t want me back.
The feeling of Toriel’s parting hug still lingered on their skin, and Frisk’s arms enclosed their narrow chest in an echo of the embrace. That hug… it felt nice.
I wonder if anyone will ever hug me again.
The question unleashed a wave of pain that nearly pushed one of the unshed tears from their eyes, and Frisk’ teeth clenched as they forced it all down. I need to be tough. I can’t cry. I’m not supposed to be weak and cry.
A dark opening yawned before them, and as the child stepped through it, the lonely ache was shoved aside by a sudden bolt of fear.
In the middle of the path ahead, a familiar circle of golden petals framed a bitter, condescending smile, and Frisk’s breath froze in their throat.
“Clever. Verrrryyy clever,” Flowey drawled. “You think you’re really smart, don’t you?”
One of Frisk’s feet slid backward in retreat, while the other refused to move away from its destination. “W-what? What do you mean?”
The sour smile suddenly brightened into a familiar grin, and Flowey’s head rose higher on his stem, looming over the shrinking child. “Did you forget? In this world, it’s kill or be killed.”
The words washed over them in a tide of dark memories, and Frisk’s hands tightened into fists as the image of three dead Vegetoids flared through their mind. “Not always,” they protested, and Flowey’s gaze strayed off to the side.
“So you were able to play by your own rules.” His face suddenly warped, eerie white pupils flaring in the depths of pitch-black eyes, which stared out from a face that could’ve belonged to a goat monster’s skeleton. “You spared the life of a single person. Hee hee hee… But don’t act so cocky. I know what you did.”
As abruptly as it had appeared, the skeletal visage morphed into a twisted echo of Toriel’s face. “You murdered her. And then you went back, because you regretted it.”
He knows?! “H-how… how did you…” The words died in their paralyzed throat, but their mind continued reeling. I don’t get it; nobody remembers. No one ever remembers…
The flower watched their expression for a moment, then burst into cruel laughter. “You naive idiot. Do you think you are the only one with that power? The power to reshape the world… purely by your own determination. The ability to play God! The ability to ‘save’.”
The pieces started to crash into place, and Frisk’s pulse felt like it would suffocate them. “Y-you… you can remember, too? A-and you…”
Oh, NO. Can he go back in time, too? Could he send me back over and over, to relive the same awful moments again and again?
“That’s right. I remember EVERYTHING. Hee hee hee… You know, I thought I was the only one with that power. But…” He broke eye contact again, as if the answer to his musing was written on the doorway through which Frisk had just come. “I can’t save anymore. Apparently YOUR desires for this world override MINE.”
The words sent a mixture of triumph, relief and fear coursing through the young human. So he can’t mess with time and trap me in a time loop. Thank goodness.
But… “Are you mad at me about that? Is that why you attacked me?”
For a moment, the flower just stared at them. Then he started laughing again, in a way that made Frisk wonder what they could do to make sure that they never made him laugh again. “Of course not. I had MUCH better reasons than that. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”
“Can’t you-” For a second, Frisk thought about asking him to show them now. To give some explanation about why he’d tricked them and tried to murder them.
But then they realized that could be taken as an invitation to try again, and clamped their mouth shut.
From the way Flowey grinned, they suspected he had read their mind. “It’s a scary thought, isn’t it? Being killed. You’re afraid that if you push your luck, I’ll kill you, aren’t you?”
Frisk’s jaw tightened, and that horrible grin grew wider. “Don’t worry, little monarch. You may have stolen my throne as the prince of this world’s future, but I’m not planning regicide. Watching your reign will be MUCH more interesting. Though when it comes to being killed… hee hee… do you remember those three Vegetoids?”
Guilt plunged through Frisk’s stomach like a ten-pound rock, and the sight stretched Flowey’s smile to hideous proportions. “Do you think any of them had families? Do you think any of them had friends? Each one could have been someone else’s Toriel.”
A whimper lodged itself behind Frisk’s trembling lips, and Flowey seemed to bask in their shame. “Selfish brat. Somebody is dead because of you.”
But I… they… they were trying to kill me! Just like you- A flare of anger pushed back the guilt, and Frisk took a step forward, forcing their voice through a throat that threatened to choke it. “You aren’t one to talk! You tried to kill me!”
“Oh?” His face tilted to the side, once again warping into a mockery of Toriel’s. “Are you somebody’s Toriel? Would anybody miss you if you were gone?”
The words struck like a blow to their whole body, and Frisk stumbled backward, their breath faltering in their throat.
“When you leave… please do not come back.”
The words assailed them in a gale of painful memory, and Flowey giggled. “That’s what I thought. Not that it probably matters. Even if nobody wants you to, you’ll keep coming back. Because that’s what creatures like us do.
“Well well. Enjoy that power while you can. I’ll be watching.”
Author's note:
If you want to read my original novels, you can find them here.
If you'd like to help me publish new chapters faster, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can spend more time writing stories and less time doing other things to make money.