Chapter Text
Alphys groans as light filters through her eyelids. She’s about to curse the barrier for being such a headache of reflected light when she realizes- she doesn’t see the barrier.
There’s a room, sure. A dark room with a door on either end.
No barrier.
A thrill goes through her. She doesn’t remember… well, anything really, not after the flower appeared, and everything went white. But they couldn’t have lost if the barrier is gone, right?
She pushes herself to her feet, leaning back on her tail for balance as dizziness swirls through her.
Someone catches her arm.
“Hey, nerd.” Alphys finds herself looking into Undyne’s eye. It’s glittering with something like excitement, something Alphys thinks is probably reflected in her own eyes.
“C’mon. The others are waiting in there.” She gestures back to the throne room, and Alphys follows her.
Everyone is gathered around Frisk. For a second, Alphys’ heart plummets- they’re lying prone on the ground, completely still. Did they… are they…
She doesn’t realize she’s started to panic until Undyne chuckles. “They’re okay. Toriel says they’re just unconscious.”
Alphys relaxes, and follows Undyne in the direction of the group. Questions still burn through her- what happened? Where did that flower go? Who broke the barrier?
Toriel is crouching over Frisk, talking to them in hushed tones. Asgore stands on the other side of the circle, looking for all the world like he has no idea what to do or say.
A few other monsters linger around the room. Alphys recognizes Sans and Papyrus, watching over Frisk nex to Toriel. A Froggit hops underfoot as it makes its way out to the throne room.
Alphys accidentally catches Mettaton’s eye as he lingers a few feet off from Frisk. She tries to tactfully play it off and head in the other direction, but he gracefully (if not slightly stiffly) intercepts.
Damn him and his long robot legs. She should shorten them without telling him next time he inevitably needs repairs.
Once he’s in front of Alphys, it becomes clear that he feels just as awkward about this as she does.
“So.” He says, looking everywhere but her face.
She fidgets. “S-so.”
His brand-new mouth is set in a serious line. For a moment, neither of them speak.
“Wh-what happened?” Alphys’ curiosity wins out. Mettaton seems to relax.
“No one’s quite sure. There was a flash of light, and then I woke up, everyone else who came to the throne room passed out around me. I’m glad I was one of the first to recover, because it looked very unglamorous,” he sighs, “Frisk might be able to tell us more. I have an inkling that the barrier has to do with them.”
Alphys nods. “Thanks, Mettaton. F-for coming to help Frisk.” Is it bad that she didn’t put it past him to ignore them in favor of a party in his new and improved EX form?
He looks uncomfortable, and she worries he might be offended by that implication. And just when she thought she was starting to get better-
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and she thinks she must have hit her head in the explosion or something. Maybe she’s still unconscious. Maybe she’s dead and dusted and the afterlife is a fever dream. It all makes more sense than a sincere apology from Mettaton.
She must look like more of a fish than Undyne, mouth hanging open. His new face is uncannily expressive, and now, he looks almost scared.
“I left you behind. I think, at some point, I stopped thinking of you as a friend, especially when you delayed making my body,” he says slowly, “and that was foolish. I have a lot of people to apologize to for… leaving like that. And now that I have the life I wanted back then, I think it’s high time I focused on making amends.”
Alphys is speechless.
“We both used each other, didn’t we, darling? Funny, it’s like a screenplay I would write.” A pause. “You wouldn’t mind if I adapted it, would you?”
She finds her voice. Finally. “H-hah, yeah. We were s-stupid, weren’t we?”
She sighs, heavily, words sticking in her throat. But she remembers her conviction earlier- fixing things. She started with the families and Frisk, and now, the finish has fallen into her lap.
“For what it’s w-worth… I’m s-sorry too. I forgot about your b-body, and then I used it to g-g-get your help with Frisk. I didn’t think you would t-talk to me otherwise… but that’s n-not an excuse.”
There’s still some things she’d like to ask him. Did he mean what he said in the CORE? Am I a bad person?
He looks like he wants to say more, too, but no one speaks. These are the friendliest words they’ve exchanged in a long time, and breaking this small, precious thread of understanding would be the worst kind of dramatic irony.
“I think... I should go. I didn’t mean to take such a detour before visiting Blooky.” Mettaton chuckles nervously. Alphys just nods.
He walks away, none of his usual pomp and circumstance. Alphys hasn’t talked to this side of him in a long, long time.
She didn’t realize how much she missed seeing him shed that persona until now. She wonders if she’ll ever see it again- because she’s really not dumb enough to think that everything between her and Mettaton is in the past.
And now she’s standing here like a sore thumb. Everyone else is gathered around Frisk; the fact that they’re still unconscious drives a nail of worry into her chest; and she can hear hushed conversation.
She settles next to Undyne. “Are they awake y-yet?”
Undyne shakes her head. “Toriel’s been watching ‘em. They’re not hurt, just asleep.”
Alphys can concur. Her medical knowledge is patchy, but they look like they could wake up any moment, HP bar intact and eyelids fluttering.
And almost like magic, they sit up. Toriel scrambles back (and somehow, even in the act of trying not to get headbutted, she exudes regality). “Oh! You are awake! Thank goodness!”
They blink, and that owlish little blink is so them. “W-we were so worried!” Alphys blurts.
They stare. “It felt like you were out forever!”
Alphys’ relief is mirrored on every face in the little half-circle of friends. Even Asgore, behind the sadness in his eyes as he stands across from his wife (or ex-wife, oof) looks happy to see them up.
“Yeah! Any longer and I would have freaked out!” Undyne crosses her arms. “Tell us next time you decide to take a nap, okay?!”
They laugh. They banter with Sans and Papyrus. Asgore tries to take control of the situation to offer tea, and Toriel cuts him off with a look that says she isn’t letting anything he makes within thirty feet of Frisk.
Fair, considering he would have attempted murder if Papyrus hadn’t stepped in earlier.
It all feels oddly normal, for such an abnormal day. The barrier is gone and the lost queen is back and somehow, Frisk won a boss fight against an evil flower, and everyone is standing around quipping like this is just Tuesday afternoon.
No one budges from the little half-circle, even when Frisk steps forward to talk to Asgore individually. If Alphys goes through the barrier, it’s going to be with her friends. Doing something so important alone would feel sacrilegious after such a literal summoning of the power of friendship.
“Sorry about trying to take your soul,” Asgore says to Frisk. “I feel very bad about it.”
From anyone else, that would be possibly the worst apology in the world. From Asgore, it sounds just the right combination of sincere and sheepish to be convincing.
“I hope we can still be pals,” he smiles. Alphys feels something on the back of her neck- Toriel’s gaze is burning into Asgore from across the clearing.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, Asgore,” Undyne cuts in before Toriel can, “I think everyone’s tried to kill Frisk at least once.”
And the way even the queen glances away at that proves Undyne’s point. Alphys might be in love.
Eh. Forgone conclusion. She’s been smitten since Undyne listened to her on the waterfall.
More importantly, Alphys might be the only one here who hasn’t made an attempt on Frisk’s life. Take that, cool athletic people.
Asgore is going to have to prove to Toriel that he is worthy of Frisk’s forgiveness, that much is clear from the way the queen watches their exchange. But everyone here has something to prove, and as they turn to Alphys, she realizes she’s not alone.
No one here is perfect, not even Undyne, and if Frisk weren’t such a brilliant child, they would be perfectly justified in leaving and never looking back.
Instead, they smile up at her. Toriel stops glaring quite so hard as her gaze shifts from Asgore. Alphys lowers her voice.
“Psst… F-Frisk. Um, you’ve gotta tell me,” she whispers, “D...do you think Asgore and Toriel are…?”
They glance between the two royals, who are now avoiding each others’ eyes.
“Uh, ever gonna get back together?” They both seem so different from the laughing, punning parents-to-be in those tapes.
Frisk shrugs. “There’s always a chance.”
Alphys sure hopes so. Those tapes were adorable, and even if that was decades ago, there is definitely some chemistry there.
Maybe now it would make a good enemies to lovers reconciliation story…
“Y-yeah! Yeah, that’s what I hope too,” she shares a grin with them, “just think about how cute they must have been together. It’s quickly becoming my number one ship of all time.”
She looks at Toriel, who is glaring at Asgore with the force of a Hotland laser every time he so much as looks at her or Frisk.
“Tori and Gorey,” she feels herself trailing off, “my… my old boss and his ex-wife. Uh. That sounds a lot less cool all of a sudden.”
Alphys doesn’t miss how Toriel visibly relaxes as soon as Frisk is moving on to Undyne, putting space between themself and Asgore.
Hmm. If it’s even possible, Asgoriel might be a bit of a slow-burn.
Frisk heads back into the Underground to talk to everyone else they've encountered on their journey- because next time they come here, they’re going to leave through the barrier, and who know where that will lead- and Alphys makes sure to tell them where Mettaton is. If she deserved a chance at their forgiveness, he does, too.
They don’t come back for a long while- they must have made a lot of friends to say goodbye to. Undyne is telling Alphys all about her battle against Frisk- apparently she was very valiant- and Alphys has already started considering designs for armor that looks just as cool as Undyne's current set but isn’t nearly so easily overheated.
When Frisk reenters the throne room, there is cool determination in their eyes. Asgore nods at them as they pass through the doorway to the barrier.
Everyone trails after them, drinking in the Underground for what could be one of the last times.
And behind Frisk, they step out into the light.
Between anime and live-action movies, Alphys has seen the sun. Conceptually, she’s always known that it’ll look like a giant orb of blinding light that shouldn’t be stared at.
The images and drawings of it have nothing on the real thing.
The sky (the real, surface sky) stretches out above them, and straight ahead, a circle of molten light casts red across the horizon.
Looking right at it stings, but it’s pretty much the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
Alphys lets out a long breath. It fogs in the cool air- fresh air!
“Oh my…” someone breathes, maybe Toriel.
“Isn’t it beautiful, everyone?” Asks Asgore, and although Alphys can’t find the words to agree, she wants to say, yes, it’s beautiful. It’s worth it.
Nothing nearly so poignant comes out.
“Wow… it’s e-even better than on TV,” she blushes, reddening at how weak those words feel in comparison to the feelings she’s trying to describe, “WAY better! Better than I imagined!”
Undyne takes mercy on her. “Frisk, you LIVE with this?! The sunlight is so nice… and the air is so fresh!”
Alphys closes her eyes, lets the light wash over her scales. A slight breeze stirs the air. In the Underground, the only breezes were in the throne room, and those rarely made it through the windows. This air is pure and clean, not weighed down by humidity and smoke and dust the way cave air always seemed to be.
“I really feel alive!” Undyne murmurs, and Alphys silently agrees, still tipping her face up into the sun.
The Underground peels from her like shed skin, washed away by clean air and soft light.
“Everyone,” Asgore speaks, “This is the beginning of a bright new future. An era of peace between humans and monsters.”
Frisk… I have something to ask of you. Will you act as our ambassador to the humans?”
A child as an ambassador. What would have been a stupid idea a month ago is looking pretty damn good. Alphys certainly can’t imagine herself or Undyne, much less Papyrus or Sans, trying to make peace with humans.
Frisk’s eyes widen minutely. They look to Toriel, who stands between them and the other monsters. She’s staring right at Asgore.
“Yes,” they finally say. They nod, and look back out at the sun.
“YEAH!” Papyrus crows. “FRISK WILL BE THE BEST AMBASSADOR. AND I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE THE BEST MASCOT!”
He runs off before anyone can stop him. Alphys can feel the moment coming to an end- there’s a human city on the horizon, which means there will be a confrontation sooner or later. This peace is a fragile thing.
Sans follows Papyrus, probably to make sure he doesn’t ruin that first impression for everyone.
Alphys finally has to tear her eyes away from the sky when Sans heads back into the caves, and Undyne sighs.
“Man, do I have to do EVERYTHING? Papyrus, wait!!”
Alphys considers staying, but is suddenly all too aware that she is standing between Toriel and Asgore. Awkward.
“Hey, Undyne! Wait up!”
Alphys follows after the Captain.
It was sunset after all. The way the light slowly dims reminds Alphys a bit of the way Waterfall’s bioluminescence fluctuates- the only place in the Underground with any semblance of the surface’s day-night cycle. It still pales in comparison to the real thing.
“Whoa,” Undyne says suddenly. Alphys stops just behind her.
“What is it?”
“Look up.”
Alphys does.
The sky is a blanket of dark velvet, sprinkled with a veil of silvery stars. Alphys can see blues and purples behind the black of the sky, see the way each star seems to flicker. The trees cut stark silhouettes against the wash of light and dark.
The ceiling of the caves of Waterfall cannot compare. Nothing in the Underground can really compare. There is nothing between Alphys and the sky anymore, nothing stopping her from building a space shuttle or mech and exploring it. Every dream she has entertained since she was a nerdy hatchling is within her grasp.
Standing next to her, Undyne’s fingers lace with hers, and she thinks that everything is within her grasp.
Maybe, Alphys decides as the great unknown stretches above, it’s time to cross a kiss under the stars off of the bucket list.