Chapter Text
You breathe a little shakily as you heard the door close to the home. You were alone, save for the sound of the kid still skittering around in the kitchen. One peek inside led you to realize they were cleaning, swaying back and forth from foot to foot as they seemed to dance to a song you couldn’t hear. Their own little melody. It was terribly sweet that they cleaned even when their mother wasn’t home to watch.
You were beginning to realize that Frisk was a terribly sweet kid. Someone you could probably grow attached to if your heart ever gave you the chance.
It was hard to accept kindness like this from people you did not know. You weren’t used to people being sweet as a general default. Sweetness was reserved for people that you were emotionally connected to and for as long as you could remember; no one had ever stepped close to that sort of level of comfort. You were used to people being amiable and accepting, the few occasionally kindnesses that were permitted to you as a human being, but never this level of unadulterated compassion.
You were a fish out of water here and you didn’t like the feeling.
So maybe yah, you did feel bad about trying to question this family that had helped you. Was it really right to offload your issues on them? Sure, they were somehow part of it but… unlike the skeleton (you were downright refusing to call that monster by his name at this point, even if it was just because of stubbornness) the child and Toriel had never done anything to hurt you.
Still, you had a right to know what part you played in this big messed up drama. Clearly it was a significant one that you got cast as unaware.
Frisk seemed to notice after a short period of time that you were lingering at the kitchen door and interrupted your moral debate with a short wave in front of your face, smiling happily in front of you as they swayed.
“Are you feeling okay?” They seemed to know the answer without you saying anything but still smiled wider when you weakly nodded.
Grabbing for your hand, they pull you towards the couch, lightly pushing you to sit down with their little hands. How old even was this child? You had originally assumed eight or nine but they were way too observant for that.
“Mom says I have an old soul,” Frisk responded cheerfully, not even acknowledging your shock as they seemed to respond to your internal question. Had you asked it out loud, perhaps?
They flop down next to you, crossing their legs underneath themselves applesauce style as they grab for a remote. Entertainment, the tv, you didn’t mind the idea at all. It would be a distraction from the knowing eyes of the child and maybe you would forget this notion about interrogating people. It wasn’t your style anyway, even if you knew you should. It wasn’t kind… and you didn’t want to accidentally say something rude to the child and hurt them. Already they were making you smile too much for you to want to hurt them. Maybe it was just the type of person they were… likeable.
A show flickered on from the tv in front of you, something you didn’t recognize immediately. While you had a tv in your apartment, you rarely used it anymore. There was enough shows online that you could watch it from the comfort of your bed without needing to move to the couch. Plus, work took up more of your hours than anything.
It was some kind of cartoon, a girl and a boy running around an old town with a crazy grandpa, uncle, guy, solving mysteries about a book or something. You started out only vaguely watching but it lulled its way into your mind in such a way that you found yourself engrossed by the time the show ended.
For a while, you didn’t even notice Frisk wasn’t watching the tv anymore, but you.
It was during a commercial that they finally spoke, legs kicking back out from under them as they stretched.
“I’m sorry about Sans,” Their voice spoke so quietly you barely heard them. Still, the name was enough to make you freeze.
“You don’t need to apologize for him. You didn’t do anything,” You were quick to sign, turning your body towards the child to make your movements more clear. They had understood what you were saying earlier so you supposed you didn’t have to talk to make yourself understood.
“It’s still my fault though,” Frisk answered, mouth a thin line of unhappiness. Clearly the tv hadn’t distracted them like it had you… and you were right back to questioning everything once more. Your heart was torn between trying to solve the mysteries here and just… hugging the life out of this kid.
You found the best middle road you could, reaching a hand over to offer Frisk to hold. You never liked the sight of someone in suffering and you’d seen it more than you would care to admit. Those years growing up after your parents… well, they weren’t good for personal moral. The atmosphere didn’t lend itself to happiness of any sort.
“Why do you think him doing that was your fault? You weren’t even there. He did that, not you,” You question, signing as best as you could with your left hand while you held theirs with your right.
Frisk doesn’t respond for a long time, staring hard down at their lap.
“They were just trying to help me. I didn’t think he was going to go that far, I never wanted that.” They answer but it wasn’t quite enough to make sense.
Their eyes dart up to you, a shimmer in the corner of them. “I felt the LOAD, you know. I know what he did.”
It was so quiet that you could have almost felt a pin drop. Seconds ticked by and your heart beat a little harder as you finally put it together. They knew you had died. It made sense now why they were so worried about you.
“Oh,” You motion slowly, not thinking of much more to say as they glance away. Their hand releases yours and they grasp their own together in a tight fist.
“He didn’t… he wouldn’t… I don’t know why he did that,” Frisk sniff a little and their voice wavers physically. They were so close to crying, holding on to the last bit of determination that was keeping the tears from flowing, it would seem.
“I never wanted him to hurt you or anyone else. He was just so upset. I couldn’t stop him.”
Screw it. Reaching forward, you pull the child closer, onto your lap and into the largest hug you could manage. You didn’t even know them and you felt the most instinctual, primal urge to see them happy. Their sadness was hurting you more than you thought possible.
It wasn’t their fault. You couldn’t blame them.
You feel your scratchy throat work out the words over and over again as you hug them. Why were you feeling such a sudden surge of love? It didn’t matter.
It’s okay. It’s not their fault. It will be alright.
You rock yourself and them back and forth a little, their head pressed into your shoulder. In truth, they didn’t know you either. They didn’t know who you were or what you were like and yet, they seemed to be hurting so much at the thought of you hurt. Someone so pure as this never deserved anything bad in their lives.
You refuse to blame them. It happened and it’s over now. It will be okay.
Half of the stuff you were muttering in their ear were things you said to yourself when things were bad. Little ways to bring yourself back when your life felt like it was breaking. It seemed, slowly but surely, to be working. The child’s shaking was beginning to stop and while you felt your shirt sticking to your chest where it was now wet from tears, the sniffling wasn’t as loud.
“I told him not to do it. I did. I knew there was something wrong… but he wouldn’t listen. He just wanted to protect me, us, all of us… and then I was back to right after the argument again.” They muttered into your chest as you stroke a hand over the top of their head, rubbing your free one over their back.
It was hard, seeing someone so young hurt this much. It must have been terrible for them. Even if you didn’t quite know what they were saying, you were getting the gist of it, enough that a vague part of the picture was forming. One piece out of many but it was a piece all the same.
“I didn’t think anyone else would have to go through this.” Frisk muttered finally as their shaking stopped a little. Their body was slumped into your hug, hiding their expression probably from embarrassment. “I thought I could handle it all. The RESET’s… the LOADS.” A very weak cough sounds from them as they push the words out, choking on them almost.
“But you can do it too. Maybe that’s why he thought you had my SOUL.” So much terminology was being spat out that you weren’t quite understanding and you finally were forced to talk.
Making your voice as quiet as possible, as kind as you could put, not wanting to scare them into tears again, you try to get some answers. “I don’t really know what you are talking about, Frisk. I just sort of… woke up someplace dark after what he did and pressed a button or something.” You left out all the details of what got you to that point but something in their eyes made you feel like they knew it without needing words.
They had mentioned having an old soul earlier and you could see it so vividly now. There was a dark look on their face, worn and tired from something that a child never should have been through.
Lips pinched tightly together, their face scrunched up into a frown, they shake their head. “Doesn’t matter… I won’t let it happen again!” They voice turned slowly chipper, bouncing back in only the way someone young could do. All appearances of their ‘old soul’ disappeared as they pounded a small fist down into their palm.
“Stay here! I’ll be right back,” They grin as they bounce off of the couch, eyes no longer teary at all. They looked like a changed person, whatever thought they had spurring them into action as their tiny body flew off towards the kitchen.
And you were left alone to deal with the whirlwind they left behind.
You felt like something had blown in like a hurricane, ripped up your house, and then just blew off without setting it back down again.
It was actually pretty hilarious.
You felt a bubbly of laughter spur up, crawling from the back of your throat and making you shake your head. It had been so much within the last few days for you to take in, so many emotions in some instances, so few emotions in others. It was a relief to be able to feel again, however, even if it was pain. To be able to laugh at the hilarity of a little whirling tornado running off through a house, well, it felt real.
You raise a hand, snickering into the sleeve of your sweater to muffle the sound. No need to bring the kid flying back to check on you like some kind of nurse. Weren’t you supposed to be watching them, not the other way around? It seemed like they had been keeping you company without any real enjoyment on their part, probably because of a guilt they carried that as far as you could tell, they should not have to bear.
You were given little time to rest back into the couches with a small smile before the tornado was back, springing up onto the couch like a pouncing tiger, a phone in their hand.
“Papyrus will be here soon. We can start there!” Frisk said excitedly, handing their phone tight as they scrambled onto your lap, eager to sit there so that they could use their phone and let you see what was going on. They didn’t seem to have any qualms about personal space now, if they ever really had at all.
“Isn’t Papyrus your friend coming to visit?” You sign as your hands wrap around them, allowing them to see them as you sign in front of you both. You remember someone mentioning the name at least briefly earlier. You had recognized it only briefly as a strange thing to name a child, considering it was a rather popular font, but of course, you also knew reluctantly knew a Sans so maybe it was a more popular thing than you knew.
“Mhm! He’s the best! You can meet him and become friends and then no one will ever want to hurt you again!” They bounced slightly up and down as their fingers typed across their phone and one quick glance down showed some sort of texting app you weren’t really aware of. The only indicator of a brand was the UN in a purple circle up in the corner.
Rather than watch them talk to their friends, you sat back further into the couch. “You think I’m going to get killed again, kiddo? I’m pretty sure that was a one time sort of thing.” One time by a psychopath in disguise but he didn’t seem to be after your head anymore so you weren’t going to allow yourself a consideration of a second attempt.
You didn’t really have the energy for a play date with another kid anyway, monster or human, whatever they were. You were drained pretty heavily from everything that went on and were running on back up reserves as it were.
“Not if they see how nice you are,” They said stubbornly, still typing out rapidly. You could hear a familiar chime from their phone of incoming and outgoing messages nearly every second. Whoever they were talking to was responding just as fast as they could answer.
That was, until they pause entirely to look at you, worry crossing their expression suddenly. “Unless… you don’t like monsters anymore.” They excitement wavered a little, nearly fading completely from behind their eyes, phone dropping on their lap. They glanced over towards the kitchen, searching for someone, maybe Toriel, or whoever would be coming through there later.
It was an interesting though, one you hadn’t really posed to yourself, but it sort of made sense. After all that happened to you, a monster was the one to cause you all that pain.
“Nah, I don’t hate monsters, kiddo,” You respond, poking their cheek slightly to get them to smile again. “I can’t blame everyone for what one person did to me. It would be fair… and your mom is super nice. No way that I couldn’t like her.”
It’s much the same as if it had been a human who had done it. You wouldn’t hate every human just because of the horrible actions of one.
Frisk seemed happy with your answer, nodding as they went back to their phone. “Monsters really are the best… I’ll prove it.”
You were sure they would. Just as long as you didn’t have to see any more skeletons for a really long time, you were probably going to be fine.
Seriously, if you saw Sans again, you doubt you would be anything but violent towards him. If he so much as got near you, there was going to be fists flying.
Other monsters, well, they didn’t evoke the same sort of gut hatred as that one horrible person.
Bile rose to the back of your throat just at the thought. For the most part you had been trying your best not to think of him or the alleyway, of the fire that had crawled across your skin as he pulled your soul from your chest and broke it even more than it already was.
It was sort of sad how it seemed to be in so many pieces but you had been through a lot in your life. It shouldn’t be a huge surprise that you were missing a lot of yourself that should normally been there. You’d felt it, after all, as you went about your day, that there were things missing. Now it just sort of proved it.
It was your soul in your chest right now, you knew it. Only yours. The smiling little kid in your lap wouldn’t have such a broken amalgamate of a soul, not when they were so happy. Just yours.
Anyone who thought differently would be sorely mistaken.
“You’ll stay, right?” Frisk questions out of the blue, head turning to look at you again. Their little determined expression was enough to make you smile and you nod, crossing your hands over your chest. They were so insistent to make sure you were okay, who were you to fault them this.
“I don’t like my friends hurt,” They answered again, hands clasped behind their back as they looked away, bangs almost covering their eyes and offering them a semblance of cover from your gaze. “But I also don’t like my friends hurting each other either. I’ll make them see you didn’t do anything, I promise.”
Your heart beat a bit faster, warming your chest as you nod. The kindness you were getting here was sort of overflowing, overwhelming you bit by bit… but if this sweet little child considered you a friend, you weren’t going to tell them no. Not now, not ever.
And honestly, the thought of having a friend was enough to make you stay no matter what might have happened before.