Chapter Text
During the past seven years, Susie has taken on the mantle of caretaker with little complaint.
The last time she saw her best friend, they were lying against their bedroom floor with their nails gouging the skin of their chest. Kris’s face was contorted with agony, glassy eyes unfocused, and their back was arched like an invisible string was pulling them towards the ceiling. Susie had never witnessed anyone experience a seizure before, but it was the only word she thought of that would describe what she witnessed.
Toriel drove them to the emergency room when she cried out to her. Susie waited anxiously for news of their health, but it never came.
The next day, Kris was announced missing.
None of the hospital staff saw them escape. But with the window to their room tugged wide open, they could only assume that Kris left of their own free will. Susie never believed it. At first, Toriel was distraught. Her days were spent in the police department, howling demands and expletives directed at their only remaining officer, Napstablook. With Undyne still missing, their resources were limited, and they lacked the ability to extend the search outside of Hometown.
Eventually, Toriel lost the strength to fight. Susie stayed with her in the Dreemurr household, helping her care for herself and keep the house in order. She learned to tolerate Sans’s presence when he visited because it was one of the few times she saw Toriel’s eyes come to life.
Every sunset, Susie would spot Kris’s father, Asgore, in the woods with an industrial flashlight in his hand. She offered her help when she passed him, but the forest never yielded any clues about Kris’s whereabouts. All it had to offer was the old, creepy bunker she couldn’t enter. Asgore would always sail by the doors with a haunted expression.
Susie sought Ralsei’s guidance in the Dark World. She plummeted down the school closet, landing square on her feet when he came rushing forward. He cradled her with soft, gentle hands and carried her to her feet.
“Susie,” said Ralsei. “Something’s wrong.”
Susie’s gaze was as hard as steel. “I can’t find them.”
Ralsei put two and two together. His hot breath fogged up his glasses, obscuring the crestfallen impression in his eyes.
“Oh, no,” he said. His paws fussed with the scarf around his neck. “This is all wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. It can’t happen.”
Susie had hoped that, by some miracle, Kris would have fled to Castle Town. It was the only place she saw the tension in their shoulders slip away. Yet no amount of scrutiny led to their reappearance. Not even Ralsei could sense their company.
Back in the Light World, Susie paid Noelle a visit. She strolled past the tall, iron gate at the front and followed the stone path to the front door. Waiting at the entrance was Carol Holiday. She regarded Susie with a cold, unimpressed look, but stepped aside to invite her in.
“She’s in her bedroom,” Carol told her. “Upstairs and to the left. I trust you will behave.”
Susie stared. The last time she spoke with Noelle’s mother, the woman was leering at her, ripping the worn guitar from her claws. Part of her wanted to fire back a retort, but here Carol was, offering her an olive branch.
“Yeah,” said Susie simply. “Okay.”
Noelle’s room smelled stagnant and sodden. The curtains on her window were tied shut and the calendar on her wall was unmarked since the last day she visited with Kris. Discarded garments, a mixture of unworn and unwashed apparel, were strewn across the floor with no effort of organization. The Christmas cactus on her desk wilted sadly.
Noelle was settled at the foot of her bed. She was catatonic. Susie shut the door behind her, and not even the loud clunk roused a reaction.
She was staring straight ahead. The lack of warmth on her face was unnerving and sent a shiver down Susie’s spine.
Susie sank into the bed beside her. She fumbled with her claws in her lap, keeping her face pointed towards the ground. She searched for words that would comfort her, but none came. For a long moment, Susie simply sat there in silence, counting the fibers in the fuzzy pink carpet beneath her shoes.
“Asgore is still looking,” said Susie. It’s a poor attempt at consoling her. “He’s driving to the backroads tonight.”
Noelle didn’t reply. Susie caught a glimpse of her pinkie finger twitching.
“You haven’t been showing up to class,” she continued. “It’s, um. Starting to feel pretty lonely.”
Susie turned to glance at Noelle again. She was wearing the same red-and-green checkered sweater she always wore. On the left side of her chest, atop one of the green patches, Susie spotted a smear of dried, coppery blood. Her heart jumped in alarm.
“Hey!” she gasped. Susie lurched forward, kneeling on her knees and grasping Noelle’s forearms in her hands. Did she harm herself? “Are you bleeding? Where’d this come from?”
Without receiving a response, Susie pushed up the sleeves of her shirt to inspect the insides of her wrists. Her forearms were clean and her hands bore no sign of injury. She was puzzled. Noelle could have wounded herself on other parts of her body, but Susie couldn’t violate her boundaries like that. It wasn’t a frightening amount of blood, but the sight hastened her pulse all the same.
Noelle was staring at her. Her eyes were blank. She curled her fingers weakly around Susie’s claws and hung her head.
“Kris will come back,” she said. Her voice was so faint Susie thought she imagined it. “They wouldn’t leave me. They wouldn’t.”
Afterwards, Susie made a routine of visiting Noelle after every school day. Alphys supplied her with the assignments she missed during class and informed her that she was excused from her group project, on account of her mental health and Berdly’s hospitalization. Susie kept the stack of papers on the left-hand side of her desk and started watering her cactus for her.
Carol never grew fond of Susie, but she came to tolerate her when she noticed an improvement in Noelle’s emotional state.
Susie began to recognize that Noelle’s eyes started to light up when she entered her bedroom. In the following days, she left the safety of her mattress and began to read the school papers on the table. Susie made a joke about how typical it was of her to prioritize her homework, and she saw Noelle’s shoulders shake with what may have been muted laughter.
It took a week for the color to return to her face and another for her to start talking again. At the one-month mark, she left her bedroom to go downstairs.
Carol and Rudy were waiting for her. They wrapped their arms around her and she broke down, weeping with all the feelings she had buried. Susie felt as though she was intruding until Noelle approached her next, folding her arms around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” said Noelle softly.
Susie’s heart skipped a beat.
Months passed. No new Dark Fountains sprang from the earth. Susie would visit Ralsei in the school closet often, but they had little to discuss. The prophecy couldn’t have possibly predicted one of its heroes vanishing like Kris did. She posted herself atop one of the cliffs overlooking Castle Town, resting her chin against the butt of her battle axe.
“Susie,” said Ralsei one day. He sat at the edge of the cliff beside her, feet swinging in the open air. “You need to move on.”
Susie grimaced.
“Kris could still come back,” she said. “I need to be waiting for them. To show them I never gave up.”
Ralsei frowned. “Have you even cried since they left?”
Susie didn’t like his choice of words. Kris did not ‘leave’.
“I don’t have time,” she told him. “I have to take care of Toriel. I have to fix Noelle.”
“You’re not a tool, Susie. You don’t need to fix everything. Doesn’t Toriel have other family to help her?”
Susie curled her lip. Asriel began frequent visits to check in on his mother, and Sans moved in permanently. Though their relationship remained strained, even Asgore showed her his support, and vice versa.
“Maybe. But Noelle needs me,” said Susie.
Ralsei’s gaze softened. He rose to his feet and rested his head against Susie’s shoulder.
“Maybe you need her, too,” he said. “You should be taking care of yourself, not wasting away on this sad little cliff.”
Tears stung Susie’s eyes. She didn’t want to cry.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whimpered. “I can’t lose you like I lost Kris.”
“You’re not losing me,” said Ralsei. He pressed one fluffy paw against her chest, right over her heart. “I’ll always be right here. I know we’ll meet again.”
Susie fell to her knees. Her axe clattered onto the floor. Ralsei fell with her, his arms holding her close. She released all of the emotions she’d been stifling these past several months in a torrent of wails, crying into Ralsei’s fur until her throat dried out. He stayed there for as long as it took, drawing soothing circles on her scales until there were no tears left to shed.
A couple of years later, Susie and Noelle’s class graduated. Susie never expected she would finish high school. Toriel offered to pay for her college tuition, and Susie told her that she would consider it.
Noelle dragged her to a graduation party hosted by MK and Snowy.
Only two hours in and Susie had Noelle’s back pressed against the balcony. Noelle’s arms encircled her neck and pulled her closer, knocking their front teeth together clumsily. Susie clutched the railing in her hands and opened her mouth, swallowing a soft gasp of surprise.
“I want you to come with me to Vastwell,” Noelle breathed between kisses. Susie pressed her lips against the short fur of her neck. “Please.”
Noelle was accepted into a prestigious-looking school in one of the nearby cities. Rudy was thrilled and from what Susie could tell, Carol, too, was pleased with her daughter’s accomplishments.
Susie leaned back. Noelle hummed in disappointment, pouting at her by sticking out her bottom lip. She responded by brushing her thumb against her chin.
“I don’t know,” said Susie. “It’s… far.”
“Not that far,” Noelle replied. “We can visit whenever you want. There’s a trade school nearby, too.”
Susie’s brows knitted together, deep in thought. Noelle leaned forward, pressing her lips against her cheek.
“You don’t have to decide now. Just think about it,” she said. “Now kiss me again.”
That was something Susie could do. She buried her claws in Noelle’s long, curly hair and attacked her mouth with her own.
Susie removes the car keys from the ignition with a click. The engine buzzes to a halt. She ducks under the door with a thin, white plastic bag in her claws and shuts it behind her with a firm push. Moths flutter around the tall, withered streetlamp that was the only source of light in the inn parking lot.
She climbs the set of stairs leading to her and Noelle’s rented room. Despite how late it is, Susie can still see the warm glow of light filtering through the blinds.
Noelle must still be awake.
Susie searches for the room key in her pocket and unlocks the door. She’s hit with the sudden, wafting fragrance of roses and wildflowers when she enters, and it’s so strong it makes her dizzy.
Noelle emerges from the bathroom. She’s wearing a soft, white robe and her light brown fur is still damp from the shower water. The curls of her straw-blonde hair cascade over her shoulders. When she sees Susie arrive, her lips curve into a bright smile.
“Susie!” she exclaims. She reaches out to her and twines their hands together, standing on the tips of her hooves to plant a kiss on her lips. “How was it? Find anything interesting?”
Susie’s cheeks flush. Even though they’ve been dating for years, kissing Noelle still made her feel like a schoolgirl.
“Er, yeah,” says Susie. She scratches the back of her neck with her claws. “There was this club called Night Owl. Only place not run-down for miles, I think.”
“Ooh,” Noelle hums. She sits down on the couch and pats the open space beside her. Susie brushes out the wrinkles in her shirt with her palms and sets the bag on the table before taking her seat. “I’ve never been inside a real club before. Was it cool?”
“Kind of? The lights and music were cool, but the energy wasn’t really my vibe. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”
Noelle’s expression falters. Her eyebrows wrinkle and a sense of unease falls over her face.
“Did something happen?” she asks.
“I ran into Catti and Jockington,” says Susie. “And… Kris was there, too.”
Susie holds her breath, waiting for Noelle’s inevitable misty-eyed face. But Noelle is deadpan. She stares at Susie like the news is something she was anticipating and replaces her apathetic visage with a broad smile.
“I knew they’d come back,” she says. “I knew they didn’t leave me. Where are they now?”
Susie gapes.
“Catti took them home. But…you’re not, like… freaking out about this?” she asks. “Because I’m freaking out. I’m super freaking out.”
Noelle stares at her lap. She’s wringing one of her wrists between her fingers, and Susie catches that she’s been picking at her nailbeds again.
“I should be, shouldn’t I?” she murmurs. “I don’t know why I’m not. It almost feels like I knew they were here. Is that strange to say?”
“Maybe a little,” says Susie. “But we’ve handled weirder.”
Susie has gotten better at this whole ‘comfort’ thing. She reaches out to grasp Noelle’s hands and squeezes her fingers. Noelle’s face flushes a pretty pink in response to the gesture.
“You said Catti took them home?” Noelle asks. “Are they okay?”
“Kind of?”
When her words make Noelle bristle in concern, Susie waves her hands.
“I mean, they’re fine,” she backtracks. “This alligator-crocodile monster or whatever got them drunk off their ass, but I told her to screw off. Catti was taking care of them, but they started freaking out. I assume they’re home now, wherever that is. She said she still has your number.”
Noelle thins her lips.
“I don’t like that,” she mutters. “I want to see them. I need to see them.”
“I know. How about you text Catti first thing in the morning? It’s late and you look tired as hell.”
Susie isn’t sure if her words are convincing enough. Noelle’s shoulders are stiff and she looks like she’s ready to scour the entirety of Castaway just to reach where Catti and Kris are staying. Before Susie can chip in again, Noelle surrenders with a small nod. She releases a short breath between her teeth.
“Okay,” she says. “Yeah. Okay.”
With their fingers intertwined, Susie leads Noelle to the double bed, slipping beneath the clean white sheets. Susie holds out the crook of her arm in silent offering, and when Noelle accepts, she tucks her head close against her chest, ear pressed against her heart. Her breath is warm and hot against the crest of her collarbone.
Susie strokes her back with a flat palm. It doesn’t take long for Noelle to fall asleep, but worry gnaws at Susie’s insides like a rat at a wire. She glances down at her, wrapping one of her loose, blonde curls around her claw.
She had feared that bringing the news of Kris’s reappearance to Noelle would’ve made her distraught. After all, she was practically lifeless when they first left. But after all these years, Noelle failed to shed even a single tear at the prospect. It should make Susie glad, shouldn’t it? Noelle had a perfectly well-adjusted response to her words.
But she knows better. This is strange, whether she likes it or not.
Last week, after the two of them went shopping, Noelle stepped on a worm on the way to the door. The waterworks turned up instantly and Susie essentially carried her inside, consoling her and assuring her that it wasn’t her fault.
That day, she also decided not to inform her of how many worms she ate when she was younger.
Regardless, the apathy Noelle demonstrated troubles her. Susie releases the strands of hair tangled in her fingers, brushing the loose locks back into place.
Susie isn’t sure what’s going on with her. But she’ll be there to lift Noelle back up, even if it kills her.
Kris is on the verge of running to the bathroom every ten minutes.
The feeling of nausea has made a home in their gut. Their mouth is as dry as sawdust and tastes like the inside of a dumpster. Every time Kris feels the urge to vomit, the bile never comes, and they’re trapped on the cusp of queasiness that makes them feel like their throat is sealed up.
They’ve never experienced a hangover before. If it weren’t for their SOUL’s habit of incredibly poor decision making, they wouldn’t be experiencing one now, either.
Kris isn’t sure if it’s torturing them for fun or out of curiosity. Maybe it was both.
Catti busies herself in the kitchen out of guilt for the previous night. The sight makes Kris feel ashamed of inciting such a response out of her. She offers to serve them breakfast, but as loud as their stomach rumbles, Kris can’t fathom stuffing anything of substance down their gullet for a long while. Instead, she passes them a tall bottle of Pedialyte.
“What is this?” asks Kris. They unscrew the bottle and give it a sniff. It’s vaguely fruity.
“Drink it,” says Catti. “You’ll feel better. It helps with hangovers.”
Kris eyes her warily. They tip the bottle back, taking a cautious sip of the liquid. It’s… actually not terrible, to their surprise.
Catti watches them. “Agatha mentioned it at work a while ago,” she says. “I picked some up this morning while you were sleeping.”
Kris purses their lips.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“No,” she says. “But I did anyway.”
They take another swig before setting the bottle back on the countertop. Kris wipes droplets of sweat from their cheeks and cringes at the sickening grimy feeling that lingers on their fingertips. They’re certain they smell like a bar.
“I think I should shower,” Kris murmurs.
“Wait. Before you go, there’s one more thing.”
Catti shifts uneasily. Kris swallows and a spike of paranoia shoots through their chest.
“What?” they ask.
She averts her eyes.
“Noelle texted me earlier,” says Catti. “She and Susie want to pass by today.”
Kris’s heart stops. The night before was so distant to them that they could have pretended it was nothing but a dream. But when the cold reality begins to settle in, they dig their nails into the skin of their wrist.
There would be a million words they would have to perform to appease them. A million questions they would have to dodge to keep them safe. And that was only if the SOUL inside of them behaved, keeping its grubby little claws from sinking deeper into the life they only just got back.
“Catti…” Kris begins.
“I don’t know what happened. And you don’t have to tell me,” says Catti. “I haven’t given them a definitive answer yet. It’s up to you, Kris. What do you want?”
Kris can already feel their body tense as soon as the question leaves her lips. If only it truly were up to them. They struggle against the feeling, their throat tight and their nails digging so deep they draw blood.
❤︎ I want to see them.
“I—ghk, I want to see them,” says Kris between sputters. It feels as if the SOUL has wedged itself beneath their tongue.
Catti looks perturbed. She holds her stare as if she’s analyzing the pores on their face.
“Are you sure?” she asks again.
It’s wishful thinking for Kris to feel a glimmer of hope, but they can’t find the strength to reclaim their own lips. The SOUL is desperate to agree.
“Yes,” Kris echoes.
They curl their fingers against the bottle of Pedialyte and press their forehead against the cold plastic exterior. It’s small comfort compared to the turbulent thoughts swirling in their skull. Catti raps her nails against the countertop with a hum, and Kris can hear when her thumbs tap against the screen of her phone.
“Alright,” she says. “You have a couple of hours to clean yourself up.”
“A couple hours until my funeral,” they groan.
“Hey. I have no qualms with kicking Susie out,” Catti replies. “But Noelle is a whole other beast.”
“I know.”
Kris elects to use what little time they have left to shower the grease of the club off their skin and hair. They can’t do much to alleviate the crescents beneath their eyes, nor the miserable expression they’re currently wearing, but it’s leagues better than when they first woke up. The remainder of their wait is spent taping their SOUL into their desk drawer.
Their plan is simple. If Kris can convince Noelle and Susie that they’re fine, get them out of Castaway and on the drive back to Hometown, everything might be okay. The SOUL might get bored and simply move on like it did before. And if not, at least the only person it could hurt would be Kris themself.
Kris is slipping on a thin black t-shirt when they hear a knock at the front door. The sound makes their heart freeze.
They slap down an extra strip of duct tape over the SOUL’s boxed prison merely to make themself feel better. Every fiber of their being is telling them to run, but they keep their feet glued to the dirty, wooden floor.
Kris needs to be brave.
When Kris unlocks and opens the front door, they must crane their neck to look up at Susie. Despite seeing her the night before, her appearance still sends a ripple of shock through their system. She has an air of discomfort around her that makes Kris feel a bit better. At least they’re not the only one struggling with this.
She steps inside the apartment and behind her stands Noelle. She’s a goddess. Her horns have grown longer, curling into fuzzy, slender arcs. Her hair is full and curly, falling all the way past her shoulders and reaching towards her hips. She’s wearing an acid-washed shirt bearing the emblem of a band Kris doesn’t recognize, accompanied by a short black skirt and leggings. There’s a long, fingerless glove on one arm that stops just above her fingertips.
Either Carol has given up enforcing her more conservative fashion sense onto her daughter, or Noelle has learned to care less about her opinions.
Noelle looks confident and comfortable in her skin. It makes Kris’s stomach twist with a mixture of jealousy and yearning. Where Susie is sharp and protective, Noelle is soft and carefree. They complete one another perfectly.
They’re a fool to think they could ever compete with either of them.
Noelle steps inside with a click of her hooves. She’s staring at Kris, unblinking, with her eyes wide and round. Neither of them say anything at first. Kris simply turns, closing and locking the door behind them. Catti is standing inside the kitchen awkwardly, pretending to scroll on her phone, but Kris can see her ears pointed in their direction.
“Kris,” says Noelle. Her voice is small.
“You, uh… look better than last night,” says Susie. She’s fidgeting with her claws.
“Thanks,” says Kris dumbly. They take a deep breath. “For stepping in.”
“No one deserves to get shit on like that,” Susie mumbles.
Kris can hear the silent part loud and clear. Even you. She’s kind enough to keep those words to herself, but Kris knows Susie is boiling with rage on the inside. It feels like before they were friends again, but this time, Kris would prefer the bullying compared to this silent resentment.
“Thirsty?” Kris asks.
The three of them shuffle into the kitchen. The apartment feels even smaller with four individuals inside and the stuffy air does little to calm Kris’s nerves. Noelle simply asks for ice cubes and water, while Susie refuses a drink entirely.
Kris knows she would probably enjoy the apple juice they have stashed in the fridge, but it feels too awkward to offer something so familiar to them.
There are only two chairs at the table they and Catti typically eat at. Kris offers the seats to Noelle and Susie, and Susie insists that they sit. They wonder if she’s acutely aware of their tendency to run from these kinds of uncomfortable conversations.
Catti hesitates in the doorway. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she offers.
Kris wants to ask her to stay, but they know it’ll only make her more anxious. She vanishes into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
It feels like they’re trapped between two semitrucks. Noelle is staring at them with her big, doe eyes, and Susie stands to the right of them with her back lying against the ridge of the kitchen sink. Kris doesn’t know where to look, so they choose to keep their eyes pinned on the table, analyzing the wood grain furiously.
“I’ll go first,” says Susie after a bout of silence. “What the fuck, Kris!?”
“Susie…” Noelle trails off.
“I thought you were dead,” she continues. She jabs their shoulder with one strong finger. “The last time I saw you was in the back of an ambulance. Do you have any idea how I felt, losing my first ever friend like that!?”
Kris hangs their head. Their hair falls around their face.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” they reply.
“Literally anything!” Susie exclaims. She presses her hand against her forehead, massaging her temples. After a deep breath, she presses on. “Maybe start with what the fuck happened. And why.”
Kris sniffs. They pick at their nail beds nervously.
“I… I don’t know what happened,” they say.
“Bullshit.”
“Susie,” they urge. They’re not entirely lying when they carry on. “I… I had a seizure or something. I freaked out. I caught the first bus out of town, and it dropped me off here, in Castaway.”
“But why!?” Susie pushes. “Why just go off and run? I’m not a fan of hospitals either, but… not even a call? Or a text? Something?”
Kris contemplates what to say. The truth would compromise their safety, and anything less would solely wound her.
“I thought I was hurting everyone by existing,” they mutter. “By being there. I didn’t want to be a burden anymore. So, I stayed away.”
Susie is quiet. Kris steals a glance, and she’s slack with remorse. She hangs her arms at her sides, tugging her eyes away with a deep breath. Noelle has remained utterly silent with her eyes fixated on Kris’s hands.
“I knew it was bad, but… damn,” whispers Susie.
She approaches Kris. They’re rooted, expecting the worst. Would she strike them, maybe? It was what they deserved, after everything.
Instead, she does something that shocks them. She kneels down, wrapping her arms around their shoulders and pulling them close. Kris is breathless. She’s warm and strong but ever so gentle, with her head heavy against the side of their neck. They don’t remember the last time someone hugged them like this.
“I’m still mad,” she says. “But don’t ever think you’re making my life worse by being in it.”
They don’t realize they’ve started crying until their chin is wet with tears. Kris hooks their arms around her and pulls her closer, sobbing quietly into her flannel shirt. Noelle rises, pressing against their back and encircling them.
They want to enjoy this. They want to cherish the love they’re being given. But it hurts. It’s so painful knowing that this is something available to them, but unable to indulge in for their own combined safety.
When they’re released, Noelle dries their tears with her thumb. She’s smiling so tenderly it makes them want to vomit again.
“I missed you,” she murmurs. “You have a bad habit of making me do that.”
“I’m sorry,” they say.
“I know. We’ll make it better.”
The three of them migrate to the couch and Susie fiddles with the TV remote, shuffling through the few channels they have available. She ends up deciding that the most interesting among them is the news channel, which is broadcasting some sort of thunderstorm coming within a few days.
Noelle sets her empty glass down and glances at Kris.
“So, what have you been doing?” she asks. “For work, I mean.”
“Gas station,” they reply. Then frown. “My boss sucks, though.”
“Faha, most bosses do,” laughs Noelle. “Which one?”
Susie sinks into the couch on the other side of Noelle, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. It makes her blush. Kris feels a pang in their chest at the sight.
“It’s across the street from a Happy Burger,” they say, glancing away.
“Oh! That’s where we stopped before we went to the inn, right, Susie?” says Noelle excitedly. “There was this weird looking man at the front that kept trying to sell us energy drinks.”
Kris groans. “That was probably Fletcher. Tall, stripes on his face, and feathers in a ponytail?”
Noelle nods.
“Ugh. What’s with people around here not taking ‘no’ for an answer?” Susie huffs.
“Lots of unhappy assholes,” Kris says.
Susie snickers. “And what does that make you?”
Kris hides their smile behind one hand.
Having Noelle and Susie present makes the apartment feel less cold. The room is packed, sure, but it’s domestic in a way that makes Kris feel relaxed for the first time in years. If either of them notices how trashed the place is, they’re polite enough to avoid making comments about it.
A sharp pain suddenly stabs behind their sternum. Kris winces, rubbing circles into their chest with their fingertips. They curse silently to themself when Susie’s eyes flick to their movements.
“Something wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” says Kris, all too quickly. They hunch forward and suck in a breath. “I just… I get chest pain sometimes.”
“This isn’t related to that seizure you had, is it?” says Susie. She’s taut with concern.
Kris shakes their head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” they lie. “It passes. I just… I need a minute in my room. I’ll be right back, just stay here.”
They rise from the sofa and cut straight to their bedroom. Kris shuts the door firmly behind them and continues to their bed. It takes several minutes of deep breathing for the pain in their chest to dampen and Kris knows that they can’t go without their SOUL for much longer. They’ll tire out eventually, sooner or later.
Susie and Noelle would probably leave if they used their hangover as an excuse. They would have to find some other reason to keep them away, though. With how they were talking on the couch, they were making it sound like they wanted to stay in Castaway just a bit longer to catch up with them.
Before Kris can think of something, their door creaks open.
Their eyes flash up. Noelle steps through the passageway, pressing the door shut behind her. Susie is absent, and Kris assumes she’s still curled on the couch watching whatever news story is playing on the TV.
“Hi,” says Noelle shyly. She runs her fingers along the surface of Kris’s desk, her eyes skimming the rest of their room. “Pft. Even with so little, you’ll find a way to keep your room a mess, right, Kris? You really haven’t changed.”
Kris breathes shakily. Her palm rests just above the drawer securing their SOUL.
“Y-yeah,” they reply. “I just. I need one more minute, okay?”
“That’s okay,” she says. “Is it okay if I wait with you? I’ll be quiet.”
Noelle removes her hand from the desk and Kris can feel their heart start to beat again. She sits down on the mattress beside them, so close that her breath tickles their cheek. It reminds them of the last day they saw her in her own room, back in Hometown.
She leans to the side, resting her head against Kris’s shoulder. Her long hair tickles the skin of their throat, and her fur smells like roses.
They’re so comfortable pressed against her that it feels like seven years haven’t passed at all. They reach out with one hand between their laps, palm facing upwards in offering. She reaches out and tangles her gloved fingers with their own.
It’s warm.
“This is nice,” they whisper.
“Mhm,” hums Noelle. Her eyes fall shut, long lashes casting a shadow across her cheeks. “I knew you didn’t leave me.”
Her words make their blood run cold. They’re all too familiar.
Kris looks down at her arm. The glove is wrinkled close to her elbow, and when they reach out to tug the fabric, she doesn’t move. She simply watches them with a disturbing, glassy-eyed expression.
They tug the fabric down, down, down until it reaches her wrist. Kris’s breath catches in their throat. They have to know. When they pull it the rest of the way, they discard it somewhere behind them and spread Noelle’s fingers. There, embedded in the side of one digit, where they planted it so long ago, is a bright red thorn.
The sight makes them sick.
There are short, vein-like clusters spreading out from the wound. It stops just after her knuckles. Kris brushes their thumb pad against it and flinches when they feel it pulsing with a dark, familiar energy.
“No, no, no,” they murmur. “Why? Why is it still here?”
“I covered it so Susie wouldn’t worry,” says Noelle in a dull voice. “But I don’t feel worried. I know you did it because you love me.”
Kris releases her hand, burying their hands into their hair. It was fine when the SOUL was gone, wasn’t it? Was this happening because it came back? Or was it because they were both in Castaway at the same time?
Their breathing is fast and uncontrollable now. They clench their teeth together so hard that it hurts. Noelle’s arms snake around them and she pulls them against her chest so they can hear her heartbeat.
“Shh. It’s going to be okay,” she whispers. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Within the next few minutes, Kris is pushing Noelle out of their bedroom door. Her hooves shuffle frantically against the wood panel floor, and she hides her arm behind her back, fumbling with her glove before Susie can see her mark.
Susie turns, eyes flying open with alarm at their disheveled state. “Woah, woah, what’s going on?” she asks, rising to her feet. “Did something happen?”
“You guys need to leave,” Kris gasps. Their face is pale and clammy, and Noelle looks like she wants to argue with them. “Go back to the inn. Now.”
“Why?” asks Susie. She glances between the two of them and Noelle avoids her gaze. “What happened?”
Kris considers continuing this charade they’ve had going. Strongly considers it. But they’re desperate and grasping at straws. There’s only so many lies they can make up in one day.
“Please,” says Kris. They clutch the fabric at the front of Susie’s shirt and angle their face so that she can see their expression. Their eyes are creased with distress. It makes Susie’s face fall. “If you ever trusted me, Susie, get her out of here.”
Something in her demeanor changes at their words. Susie grasps Noelle’s hand in her own, giving a long, sideways glance at the bedraggled fabric halfway up her forearm.
When she walks her to the front door, Noelle says nothing. She’s facing Kris with a hurt look that makes their stomach tangle into a million knots. “C’mon, Noelle,” Susie murmurs to her. Noelle dips her head, stepping through the doorway and rushing down the stairs.
Kris shuts the door behind them and locks it swiftly. They collapse against it, keeping themself upright only by leaning against their forearms. A mixture of relief and dread crashes over them like a contradictory wave.
They don’t even hear Catti approaching behind them. When her shadow falls over them, they whip around, tears forming in the corners of their eyes.
“What the hell just happened?” she asks.
Her brows are wrinkled and stiff with alarm. She has one arm extended as if she were considering comforting them, but Kris knows even Catti doesn’t know how to respond to something like this. She remains an unbearable length away. Kris chokes back a sob.
“I messed up, Catti,” Kris says plainly.