Chapter Text
The van slowed to a stop outside the Holiday’s house. Everyone in the car paused, not because anyone asked them to, but because reality began to sink in.
Two broken families were trying to comfort one another. Rudy was dying. This might be goodbye.
Toriel was the one to break the silence. She unbuckled herself, turning to face the teens in the back seat with a brave face and patient words.
“Well... Shall we?”
Kris nodded. I assume Susie did as well. Toriel smiled gently, then turned back around and exited the car. Kris squeezed Susie’s hand, then slid the van door open.
Pine trees large and small stood in front of the manor. The wind rustled their needles, and Kris’ hair. The sun glinted across the many windows looking down at them. Kris’ heart fluttered.
Susie stepped onto the ground next to them, sliding the door closed behind her. Kris looked up at her, and watched her stare at the white walls that loomed in front of them both.
Toriel smiled at them from the corner of their eye, so Kris turned toward her. She did not beckon nor speak to them, she simply looked on.
Kris put their hand on Susie’s shoulder. When the dragon met their eyes, Kris asked, “Ready?”
Susie sighed. “Not really.”
Kris nodded, understanding perfectly. Still, Susie began walking over to Toriel. Kris followed, and the three heard gravel crunch under their feet as the door approached.
“You’re sure she’s not gonna...?” Susie asked, trying to keep her voice low so only Kris could hear her worries. Kris did not respond verbally; they just took her hand in theirs, smiled, and gave a confident nod. “Thanks, Kris.”
They squeezed her hand again. She squeezed theirs back.
Toriel used the ornate knocker shaped like a wreath instead of the doorbell. The three stood and waited. There was nothing to be said, so nothing was. A moment later, the door opened.
Carol Holiday stood on the threshold. She was dressed as sharply as the first time I saw her: A gray blazer over a black shirt, black trousers, and an ornate necklace with inlaid turquoise gems covered her sleek beige fur. Her hair was neat, her antlers vibrant, and there was not a single wrinkle on her clothes. She stood with impeccable posture, and she smiled softly as she regarded her guests.
Her eyes betrayed her. This woman was *not* okay.
“Hello, Carol.” Toriel’s words were polite but warm, as was Carol’s response.
“Toriel. Thank you for coming.” The reindeer stepped aside, motioning for them to come in, and the three did so. “Kris. Susie.” She addressed the teens as they passed, and to her credit, she spoke Susie’s name without a hint of venom or malice. The house was as chilly as I remembered, though.
“Hello, Mrs. Holiday,” Susie said, equally polite.
Kris just nodded at her. They squeezed Susie’s hand one last time before letting go. Susie’s claws trailed along their palm as they broke contact.
Toriel held her arms out to Carol. Carol hesitated so briefly I almost didn’t notice, but she accepted the hug. It was short, more polite than anything, but I wasn’t surprised. The reindeer did not strike me as a touchy person.
Carol cleared her throat as she stepped back. It was another second before she spoke.
“Rudy is in the kitchen. He is tired, but very happy that you’re here. Please help yourselves to anything you’d like, but do keep your voices down; Noelle is sleeping.”
“Of course, Carol,” Toriel said, nodding as she did.
Carol walked to the kitchen doors. Quick glances and soft smiles were passed between the Dreemurrs and Susie, then they followed the mayor into the kitchen.
The quiet beeps and whirrs of various machines echoed in the large space. The massive pine tree that once dominated the space had vanished. The piano had been moved next to the wall by the countertop. A wide hospital gurney surrounded by medical devices had been set up where the piano once was. The couch from the living room was against the far wall, draped in sunlight pouring in from the windows behind it. Several chairs were arranged in a circle around the raised bed, each with an end table to their right.
Rudy lay on the gurney, his muzzle covered by an oxygen mask. Wires and IV lines trailed from his body up to the multiple machines around him. I remembered him being fairly skinny, but the only word for his appearance now was “gaunt”. His reddish fur seemed desaturated, as though someone had lowered the contrast of it. A thick blanket covered him from the waist down, and a white muscle shirt from the waist up.
His head turned toward the group as they crossed the room, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled at them. He waved at them, then waved them over. Beside him was his daughter.
Noelle had her back to us as she slept. Her hair was messy, tangled, and had lost some of its shine. As Kris drew closer, they could see she held onto her father’s arm in her sleep. Her head rested on his shoulder. Somehow, even in sleep, she managed to look distressed.
“Hello, Rudy,” Toriel whispered. She stepped over to the far side of his bed, while Kris and Susie stayed on Noelle’s side.
“Hey,” Susie muttered.
There was a certain glint in Rudy’s eye as he looked at Susie. After a second, he looked down at Noelle, brushing the hair away from her eyes and lightly shaking her. When she did not move, he pulled the mask off his face enough to expose his mouth.
“Noelle.” Instead of his usual tenor, his voice was hoarse. Breathy. Not at all the way I remembered it.
Despite him barely whispering her name, Noelle stirred. Behind Kris, Carol “tsk”ed, but she went ignored by all.
“Hey, Dad,” Noelle breathed, then a second later, “Oh. Hi, Ms. Toriel.”
“Hello, sweetie.” Toriel waved.
As the doe yawned, Rudy pointed behind her, and her exhausted eyes lit up as she saw Susie.
She tried to say Susie’s name mid-yawn, but it came out as an odd groan. Still, she excitedly hopped off the bed, rushing into Susie’s open arms. Both the girls’ short tails wagged as they embraced.
A peaceful smile graced Rudy’s face as he looked on at them. Had he been in any pain before, I imagine it was momentarily forgotten.
“I-I’m sorry about the Festival-” Noelle started to say, but Susie cut her off with a gentle shake of her head.
“Don’t be. Kris and I tried to visit yesterday, but the hospital wouldn’t let us in, so...” Susie trailed off for a moment, glancing at Rudy for a moment. “I figured... you know.”
Noelle smiled, though she couldn’t quite hide the sadness from her eyes. She just nodded, throwing her arms back around the dragon for another long moment.
Kris took the time to walk up beside Rudy. They gave the happiest smile they could muster, which made Rudy chuckle silently. The reindeer reached for Kris’ hand, and they let him take it, squeezing his paw back as firmly as he squeezed them. As he picked up the clipboard and pen that lay beside him, beginning to write something down, Noelle’s paw on Kris’ shoulder drew their eyes away.
“Hey, Kris.” Standing right in front of Kris, her haggard, weary expression was thrown in sharp relief. No wonder the poor girl had been sleeping when we arrived; she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Kris smiled at her, and the two hugged. “Thanks for coming,” she said. Kris just nodded, their face telling her, “of course.” She squinted at something behind Kris, making them turn back around to find Rudy holding up the clipboard.
Scrawled across the top of the paper in his decidedly-neat handwriting were the words, “Thanks for coming, everyone. Cornucopia.”
Kris’ brows knitted, their head tilting at the odd phrase. Beside them, Susie sounded equally lost.
“Core-nuko-pia...? Heh, I, uh... I don’t get it...”
Noelle chuckled as Rudy wrote something else down, then proudly displayed, “It means ‘a lot’”.
Kris’ eyes rolled so far back in their head I thought they might injure themself. They drew a deeply-exasperated breath whilst doing so, and when they looked back at Rudy, he was silently fist-pumping and chuckling at his own stupid joke. Despite their best effort, Kris couldn’t help but smile and laugh, too. Toriel looked as if she’d heard this same joke dozens of times, and she likely had. Noelle leaned in to whisper to Susie, who then barked a short laugh as the joke was explained to her.
“Oh! Okay, yeah. That’s funny,” the dragon said, almost-convincingly. Rudy just winked at her.
“Well! I believe we must be going, now,” Toriel said with exaggeration, walking over to a nearby chair. Rudy silently laughed as she went, his torso shaking as Toriel carried an armchair over to the side of his bed. She gave him a tired-yet-warm smile as she sat down.
Rudy scrawled something else down, showing it to Toriel, who then sighed heavily.
“I do not know. He has not answered Kris nor I all day.” Rudy frowned, sinking into the bed a little, then wrote something else for her. “I am sure he is. Would you like me to slap him for you?” She asked mischievously, causing Rudy to laugh out loud. The laughs quickly turned to harsh coughs that wracked his body for several seconds. As he calmed, he held a thumbs-up to Toriel.
Oh. Asgore. I knew Kris picked up on this as well, though they did not allow themself to acknowledge any of their feelings.
Rudy gestured to the rest of the chairs, then wrote, “Make yourselves comfy. Anyone want tea? Snacks? Morphine?”
“Mr. Holiday...” Toriel chastised with a deadpan expression. Rudy shrugged, pretending his offer was completely reasonable. Susie again looked to Noelle, who just sighed and shook her head with a smile.
It wasn’t long before everyone had settled about the room: Kris sat beside their mother, writing down and exchanging awful jokes with her and Rudy. Susie and Noelle dragged a loveseat over to the other side of Rudy’s bed, facing away from him at a slight angle so he could watch them play Dragon Blazers III together. Carol placed a tray of assorted snacks and a kettle of hot tea on a table at the foot of the gurney, then settled onto the couch, closing her eyes and letting the sun warm her.
As the minutes stretched on, Kris began to run out of jokes. I offered a few of my own, and was pleased when the only one Kris decided to use got a few chuckles. After staring at the ceiling for a long moment, Kris stood, moving to the table and pouring two cups of tea. They offered them to Rudy and Toriel, though Rudy declined. They added two sugar lumps to the unwanted cup, sipping it themself, and looked over at Carol.
The austere reindeer contrasted sharply with her husband. Even as she rested, laying down with her eyes closed, she managed to look imposing. I expected Kris to feel anxious, to feel scared, to feel... well, *anything*. Evidently, they decided that emotions were not necessary right now.
Kris watched her for several seconds. Whatever they were thinking, they neither shared it nor acted on it. Instead, they walked over to the kitchen proper. They set their tea down, opened the fridge, and quickly found the chocolate syrup. With mounting dread, I watched them add a generous amount to their tea, stir it a few times, sip it, then smile.
(...Good God, Kris.)
They shrugged.
(Carol buys the good shit.)
(Tea, though??)
They leaned onto the counter, watching Susie and Noelle puzzle over a difficult boss fight for a few moments. Chocolatey, cloyingly-sweet tea was sipped as Kris pulled their phone out, and they sent a quick text to Susie; “nerd”
As Susie’s pager beeped, she absentmindedly pulled it out, more focused on telling Noelle which potion to use. She glanced down at the message, found Kris, then stuck her tongue out. Kris did not react until Susie’s eyes lit up with excitement, and her attention shifted back to Noelle.
“Oh! Noelle, look!” The dragon held up the tiny device as she bounced gleefully in her seat. “Toriel gave me this! We can text each other!”
Kris watched their friends excitedly exchange numbers with a soft smile. The adults behind them also looked on happily. Rudy wrote something to Toriel, Toriel whispered something to Rudy, and he clasped her paw in his, looking into her eyes and exchanging silent words. Toriel just nodded.
“Rudy, check it out!” Susie held the pager out to him, her tail wagging rapidly. Rudy nodded, pulling his own phone out and taking the offered device. He looked between the two screens for a moment, then handed Susie her pager back and typed something out on his phone. The pager beeped again, making Susie giggle as she showed Rudy his own message.
Susie looked back at Kris, her smile shining brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows. Kris just nodded, then finished their disgusting tea.
Rudy wrote something else to Toriel, who nodded after a moment. There was a hint of concern on her face, and if I noticed, Kris certainly did. She stood up as Rudy wrote something else for Susie and Noelle, walking over to Carol and quietly calling her name. When Carol did not stir, she called slightly louder.
Eyes fluttering open and quickly squinting in the sun, Carol sat up with a yawn.
“Yes, Toriel?”
“I am sorry to wake you, but Rudy asked to speak to me privately.”
“Mmm. Of course.” She stretched for a moment, looking across the room at everyone in turn. As she looked at Kris, she tilted and stretched her neck such that Toriel could not see her wink joylessly at the human.
Now, Kris *did* get anxious, which means I did, too.
As Toriel spoke quietly to Susie and Noelle, Carol walked over to Rudy. She whispered a few words to him, received a nod from him, and they hugged. Kris made eye contact with their mother as she sent the girls away, who gave a reassuring smile and tapped her index finger with her thumb a couple times. Kris nodded at the silent message, then followed Susie and Noelle back into the living room.
The girlfriends acknowledged Kris with their eyes, but otherwise stayed focused on their game as the three climbed the stairs to the second floor. While Susie and Noelle made their way to Noelle’s room, Kris tapped Susie on the shoulder and pointed to the bathroom. She nodded, telling Kris to join them after. Kris just smiled.
The bathroom door clicked shut behind them. They locked it, taking a deep breath, then moved to the sink. They turned the faucet on, splashed some water on their face, then looked in the mirror.
Water ran down their face, down their neck, under their sweater. Crimson eyes stared at themselves, and at me.
(Carol and I need to talk.)
(...Okay?)
(Alone.)
I should have guessed.
(You’re gonna lock yourself in a room with a woman you’re clearly scared of?)
They gave me an eye-roll.
(Not scared of her. She’s a family friend.)
(With a lot of money and power, who leaves you voicemails you can’t share with me.)
They squinted at the mirror, looking slightly offended.
(The fuck is that supposed to mean?)
(I’m worried, Kris. I’d be less suspicious if you told me *literally anything* about what’s going on.)
Kris sighed. They looked away for a moment, eyes wandering over the pristine tiles of the wall and tracing the lines of mortar as they thought. They looked back into the mirror.
(Rudy... He’s made things change. We need to go over those changes. That’s it.)
(Changes to *what*?) I didn’t even try to hide my frustration.
There was a knock at the door. Kris glanced back, and their patience had run thin when we locked eyes again.
(I’ll tell you what I can after we talk.)
I didn’t reply for a moment. Kris could look impatient with me all they wanted; this was a two-way street.
They shut the faucet off. As they dried their face, I caved.
(I hope you can tell me more than, “we talked”.)
They gave another aggravated eye roll as they walked to the door. They stepped out, finding Carol leaning against the table between Kris and the staircase to the third floor. They shared a silent look between each other. Kris nodded, so Carol nodded back, and Kris followed her up the stairs.
The table with the collection of heart-shaped pillows had its drawer pulled open. As I realized what was about to happen, the irony of the situation almost made me laugh.
Kris eyed the table as they cleared the top step. Carol turned, handing a key to Kris, and Kris glanced between it and the drawer. They nodded once more, taking the key, then waited.
Carol waited, too.
They both seemed a little confused.
“You’re not watching,” Kris said sternly. Carol’s lips pursed. She looked ready to say something, but something about the look in Kris’ eyes told her not to.
“So be it.” She shrugged, unlocking her bedroom door. Kris looked away as she opened it, and did not look back until it clicked shut.
(Don’t make me regret this, please.)
They did not answer. Their hand formed a claw over their chest as they glanced back at the empty staircase. Slowly, gently, they removed me, and a moment later, I was in their hand.
Another moment later, I was inside a pitch-black, locked drawer. I could barely hear the click of the bedroom door opening and closing once more, and then, all was silent.
I tried counting the seconds, but gave up after my anxiety made me lose count for the third time. All told, I was in the drawer for a while. Not an hour, not even close, but more than a few minutes.
I found myself relaxing in spite of my worries. The wood of the drawer was warmer than the birdcage, at least.
When the lock to the drawer clicked, I startled slightly. Light poured in as Kris opened the drawer, looking down at me with tired eyes. Grasping me, they turned to look over their shoulder before bringing me up to their chest.
As they did, I saw faint red lines across their cheek.
I was fucking furious.
Kris tried to gently place me back within them, but I shoved myself in. They recoiled slightly, taken aback, but my words shocked them.
(Did she fucking hit you?!?!)
Kris’ eyes went wide, their face screwing up in utter confusion.
“*What*?”
I ignored their offended, bewildered tone. I ignored the fact that they spoke the question out loud. I ignored everything except the complete and total fucking betrayal I felt.
(Why is your face red?! She slapped you?!)
“Kris?”
Kris whipped around. Carol was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at Kris with concern. The sight of her redoubled my anger. Kris shooed her away with a flick of their hand, and it was Carol’s turn to look appalled. Not caring enough to explain, Kris defiantly pointed toward the wall as their eyes steeled and their nostils flared. Over the course of a few seconds, Carol’s expression went from incredulity, to concern, and as she turned to walk away, her natural resting bitch face had returned.
(What the FUCK are you talking about?!)
(Your FACE. It’s RED. Why are there LINES across your CHEEK?)
(You need to calm the fuck down-)
(ALL I CARE ABOUT IS PROTECTING Y-)
Too quickly for me to do anything about it, they ripped me out of them. This time, it *really* fucking hurt. By the way they gasped and grabbed the end of the table, it hurt them, too.
Panting, a bead of sweat formed under Kris’ bangs. They glared at me furiously. Their hand shook as it held me too tightly, and I realized the gravity of my actions as the pained silence stretched over several seconds. I couldn’t quite say I regretted them yet, but I did wish I had tempered myself better.
I was shoved into their pocket, their fingers still digging into my form as they descended the stairs. When they reached the bottom, I heard Carol call their name softly once more, but Kris did not respond verbally, if they cared to at all.
Another door opened and clicked shut. Another lock was snapped closed. The faucet poured water into the sink once more.
Kris had not stopped breathing heavily as they pulled me back out. Their fury had not died down, and sweat now dripped down the bridge of their nose as they glowered down at me.
“She... did NOT... hit me,” they hissed, jaw clenched tightly. “I was resting... my face... on my hand.” They pushed their fist into their cheek harder than was necessary. The lines on their face matched perfectly with their hand.
I felt ashamed: Not because I cared about them; not even because I had yelled; I hadn’t let them explain.
Kris panted some more, closing their eyes and trying to steady themself. We both knew that while we were separated they could not recover their energy, but I couldn’t blame them for being loath to rejoin.
“You... I asked you... to trust me... and you... you couldn’t even... let me explain.” They shot a glance at me, disgust written into every line of their face. “Just...”
They coughed a couple times, then sat down, pressing their back against the cabinet below the sink. They held me tightly, letting their arms fall into their lap as they stared at the ceiling. The rushing water of the sink could not drown out their heavy breaths.
We both grappled with our thoughts and feelings for a while. I wish I hadn’t talked over them. I wish I hadn’t yelled. I wish they had told me *something*.
“I can’t...” they started, talking up at the ceiling, “I can only... tell you the most... most important things.” They looked down at me, then raised me to eye-level. “I’m doing this... willingly. She’s not... blackmailing me... or threatening me. I’m helping her... because it’s the right... right thing to do.” Their eyes bored into me, and though they could not see me looking back at them, they knew I hung on every word. “No one is... gonna get hurt. I’m not... I’m not gonna... kill myself, or... hurt anyone. But this... This isn’t... gonna work if... if you fight me...”
It felt like they had managed to tell me absolutely nothing, yet at the same time, they said almost exactly what I needed to hear. They brought me to their chest again, but kept their fingers between me and their body.
“Don’t... *Please*... Don’t make me... do this again. It really... really fucking sucks.”
Cautiously, they opened their hand. I touched their chest, but did not move further. I waited for them to push me back inside, and after a few seconds, they did.
Finally able to catch their breath, their hand stayed flat on their chest. Their other hand wiped the sweat from their face. Anger quietly simmered inside them.
I stayed silent. After all that, they deserved the first word.
They slowly stood up, holding the edge of the sink for support. They faced the mirror, but did not look at it until water splashed their face again. They silently reset their appearance over the next minute. They could not wipe the pain from their eyes.
Drying their face once more, they spoke to me.
(What do you need?)
In truth, I didn’t quite understand the question.
(We need to cooperate. We don’t need to like each other. But we need to have trust.)
Ah.
(...I need to know how to protect you.)
Their shoulders sagged as they sighed.
(...Then help me. No one is getting hurt. I promise.)
(I... I want to believe that, Kris, but... how can you be sure?)
(She’s spent years making this plan. She’s... she’s not a nice person, but... she’s not a bad person, either. I trust her.)
Years...?
Suddenly, I understood a bit better.
I didn’t respond until their hand touched the handle of the door.
(...Okay, Kris. But if I ask you to stop and listen, could you hear me out, please?)
They nodded.
(That goes both ways.)
(Agreed.)
The door unlocked, and Kris stepped out. I was surprised by the lack of Carol’s presence, and Kris was, too. They leaned over the bannister to check the living room. It was empty. They knocked on Noelle’s door, but received no response. Not willing to see something they couldn’t unsee, they left the door closed.
Running out of rooms to reasonably check, they headed back downstairs. Conversations could be heard as Kris pressed their ear to the kitchen door, so they pushed it open.
Everyone had settled back down around Rudy. Carol was again lounging on the couch, now with a laptop open on her lap. Toriel was pouring another cup of tea. Noelle had curled up next to Rudy, watching him take a turn on the game console, while Susie had taken the chair directly next to him. Her feet dangled over the armrest while she pressed buttons on her pager, presumably trying to find some of its secrets.
Toriel was the first to notice their entrance. “Oh, Kris. There you are. Are you alright?”
Kris nodded, holding a hand up to their stomach and lying effortlessly as they crossed the room. “Too much chocolate.”
“I keep telling you, dear...” Toriel said with vindication, stirring her tea and sitting on the loveseat. She had spun it so she now faced Rudy, and she patted the seat beside her. Kris flopped down next to her. She put her arm over their shoulders, and Kris leaned into her.
Rudy had passed the console back to Noelle, now holding his clipboard up to Kris, who read, “Take the bottle home.”
Even though Toriel sighed, Kris could not suppress their small spark of excitement at the words. They looked at Rudy for confirmation, who chuckled and nodded. Kris grinned.
More time passed comfortably. As the sunlight began disappearing behind the treeline, Rudy’s blinks got longer and more frequent. After Noelle had to tap him to keep him awake, Carol cleared her throat.
“Thank you all very much for visiting us. Your company has been wonderful, but I believe Rudy needs to rest.” She glanced at Noelle, adding, “You should, as well.”
Everyone but Rudy began standing up as the bedridden reindeer scrawled across his clipboard. He held it up to Kris, then pointed at one of the tables across the room. It said, “Got some letters for you.”
Kris nodded, moving to the table and opening the drawer. There were five sealed envelopes inside; one for each Dreemurr, and one for Susie. As Kris passed them out to each family member, they couldn’t help but glance at the messages written on them:
“Toriel: Read this tonight, please.”
“Asgore: Read this when you need to.”
“Asriel: Read this after I’m gone.”
“Susie: Read this next time you’re alone.”
“Kris: Read this when it feels right.”
While Susie and Noelle hugged each other, Toriel spoke softly to Rudy, and Carol looked on at them all, Kris carefully pocketed theirs and Asriel’s letter. As Toriel stepped away to speak to Carol, Rudy waved Kris over. He wrote on his clipboard as Kris approached, then held it up so that only Kris could read his words; “It’s okay if the answer is no, but one song?” Rudy’s tired eyes flickered to the piano.
Kris froze.
Immediately sensing their discomfort, Rudy reached for their hand. Kris let him take it as their emotions started spilling onto their face. Rudy frowned, letting their hand go and quickly writing something else. Kris glanced around; nobody was looking at them, too busy taking their time saying goodbyes and promising to visit each other tomorrow.
Rudy held the board up; “Sorry. Know it’s special for you.” He set the board aside, opening his arms, and Kris hugged him. Their face burned with conflicting emotions, and I couldn’t even begin to parse them all. When Kris pulled away, Rudy took a moment to open his eyes, but he smiled warmly as he did.
A clawed hand gently came to rest on Kris’ shoulder. Susie smiled at them as they turned, but her attention quickly shifted to Rudy.
They stepped away as the dragon spoke to him. They exchanged hugs with Noelle and Carol in turn, both of them promising to see Kris tomorrow. When Noelle said it, Kris felt hopeful and warm. When Carol said it, Kris felt nothing.
Their goodbyes said for now, Kris, Susie, and Toriel stepped outside. Kris’ face still burned, and there was a pressure behind their ears as they walked to the car. They nodded weakly when their mother asked if they were alright. Even though she didn’t believe that, she nodded, too.
When Susie slid the van door open, the pressure in their head became too much.
(Don’t say a word.)
“Five minutes,” they said abruptly, mildly startling Susie. Not waiting for a response, Kris jogged back to the front door and banged it several times. A very confused Carol opened the door a moment later.
“Kris?”
“Five minutes,” they repeated, looking up at her with sadness and urgency. “Please.”
Though it took her a moment, she stepped aside. As Noelle backtracked down the stairs, Kris ignored her, pushing the door to the kitchen open. They vaguely registered Carol asking Noelle not to follow, and I silently thanked her on Kris’ behalf.
Rudy was already looking in their direction as they crossed the room. Their eyes met, and Rudy’s confusion gave way to joy as Kris sat on the piano’s bench. Kris looked at the ivory keys with slight fear, which vanished as they glanced over at Rudy.
He didn’t move. He just smiled at them.
(This isn’t for you.)
Kris began to play. I didn’t recognize the piece, but I didn’t need to to know how much it meant to them.
Music drowned out the sounds of medical devices. It echoed off the walls, filling the air for a few beautiful minutes.
The pressure in Kris’ head lessened with each note. By the time they finished playing, it was gone, and they were smiling.
They looked at Rudy. He was sleeping peacefully, a small smile visible under his mask. His clipboard was propped against his chest, the paper facing out at Kris.
It read, “Don’t forget your chocolate.”
_________________
Kris clutched the bottle of chocolate syrup tight as Toriel drove them home. Their other hand held Susie’s. No words were said over the light chatter from the car’s radio.
Susie’s pager beeped as Toriel parked. She grinned as she typed, not bothering to unbuckle herself until she’d finished. Kris smirked as they watched her.
Back inside the warmth of the Dreemurr residence, Kris poured themself and Susie each a chocolate milk. Toriel lightly chastised them, not bothering to hide her contradictory smirk. The teens sat on the couch, toasted to Rudy, chugged their glasses, and belched in sync. Toriel laughed from the kitchen as she began preparing supper.
After a minute, Susie wandered into the kitchen, and Kris watched her go.
“Um... Toriel?”
“Yes, Susie?”
“Do you, uh...” The dragon scratched the back of her head, looking nervously at the countertop. “Need help? With... anything?”
Toriel turned, smiling kindly at her. “I would love that, dear! Have you ever diced an onion before?” Susie sheepishly shook her head, but Toriel assured her that was fine. “Wash up first, and I will show you how I do it. There are several methods, but I prefer...”
Kris decided to join them, standing and walking to the kitchen. They grabbed plates and cutlery, wiped and set the table, and listened to their mother patiently explain each step of dicing various vegetables to their best friend.
Though the onions were more “chopped” than “diced”, they were perfectly serviceable for burritos. Toriel insisted that Susie eat while she made extra portions, complimenting and thanking her for her help. Susie ate with a wide smile, and Kris couldn’t help but smile, too.
“You know,” Susie said to Toriel as she joined them at the table, “I wrote a song about burritos, once.”
Toriel was bemused. “You did?”
“Actually, I guess I shouldn’t call it a ‘song’, I should call it a ‘wrap’!” She held her burrito up for emphasis.
Kris looked down at their lap, their face burning with embarrassment even as they tried not to laugh. Toriel, on the other hand, found this positively delightful.
“Ahaha! A ‘wrap’! Hahaha!”
Looking back up, Kris saw Toriel leaning back in her chair as she laughed, and Susie looking extremely happy with herself. Despite their mild mortification, Kris couldn’t help but give Susie an approving nod. Susie beamed.
After supper was finished, the table was cleared, and leftovers put away, Susie and Kris wandered up to Kris’ room. Kris placed their letter on their table, and Asriel's on his pillow. Susie decided to keep hers in her jacket pocket.
They sprawled out on Kris’ bed, resting with their legs against each other. Susie texted Noelle, and Kris rested their eyes. The two were happy to spend time doing nothing with each other, and I could tell Kris needed time to do nothing.
“You know...” Susie said after a while, “It’s only six o’clock. Your brother’s not getting home ‘til, what, five in the morning?”
Kris grunted, which in this case meant “yes”. Trepidation filled them as they waited for Susie to continue. At this point, I knew better than to ask why.
The dragon smirked at them. “...Wanna go see Ralsei?”
Kris stared at her for a long while. Something about the idea made them uneasy, enough for Susie to notice. She didn’t say anything, but she did sit up straight.
Finally, Kris moved. Though their head movements could *technically* be called a nod, it was stretching the definition slightly.
“We don’t have to, dude.” Susie shrugged. “I know today’s been a lot. I just wanted to say ‘hi’ more than anything, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Kris said flatly. “Sure. Let’s go.”
They didn’t move until Susie did. Even though she smiled, there was concern in her eyes. She didn’t press the issue.
Slipping their shoes back on and heading downstairs, Susie let Toriel know they were taking a walk. Toriel bid them farewell with a knowing smile, telling Susie to text her should she need anything.
As the two set out into the last hour of sunlight, Kris was scared. They tried their best not to let Susie notice, but it was far too late for that. Though she did not press her friend as they walked in silence toward the school, I shared in her plight.
I was promised no one would be hurt. I was promised Kris was going along with Carol’s plan with good reason. I was promised a chance to talk things out should I find the need to.
Alright, Kris. I can work with that for now.