Chapter Text
It's cold outside the Ruins, the air smelling of frost, your sweater flapping in the wind. A thick heaping of snow covers the ground all around you, save for a thin stretch of path leading into a leaf-barren forest. Your hands are jammed into your pockets, your breath misting in the air.
You stand past the end of the tunnel, watching the second set of purple double doors close forever. Trying to remember every detail you can about its caretaker, from the symbol on his jacket to the shape of his grin. Trying to forget the way his voice cracked as he was kneeling, his final request.
It's cold outside the Ruins, but it's not the temperature that has you shivering.
Vaguely, you recall the feeling of Grue's darkness, how dull and hollow the world seemed. You almost feel as if you're back there again, unsaturated, empty and miserable.
You're not sure how long you stay frozen in place, staring at the engravings on the door; hard to tell, with no sun in the sky, no clocks on the walls. But eventually, you wrench your gaze away, look forward to the lengthy path ahead.
You have to make it worth it. You have to be okay. You have to stay determined.
It's what Grue would ha—wants. It's what he wants.
You take a deep breath, rub your hands together to ward off the chill, swing and miss at a random housefly. Then you set off, placing one foot in front of the other, following the straight and narrow path to an unknown destination.
(You spare one last glance for the Ruins door, hoping that it will open despite all impressions to the contrary, revealing a certain somebody alive and well. Waving you goodbye, returning the knife you left on the floor, bringing you something to eat, perhaps. Apologizing. Accepting an apology. Anything.)
(But nobody came.)
Another out-of-place fly buzzes at your face, which you slap away, more tiredly than you did the first time.
You're finally starting to get a sense of scale here, a decent idea of just how big the Underground is.
You've been walking for… a long time. Again, determining the passage of time down to the second is difficult down here, but you can get a broad picture. The terrible aching in your legs, your parched throat, the gnawing sense of hunger in your stomach… you really want to sit down, have a snack, drink some water, get out of the cold.
Still, you press on, hold fast your determination. There's gotta be more monsters around here somewhere, right? One of them is going to have a nice, roaring hearth that you'll be allowed to sit by, and that's when you'll relieve your aching body, eat something from your inventory, and rest. It'll be heavenly.
You're getting ahead of yourself, however. As it stands, civilization is nowhere in sight, because apparently the Underground is a really big place.
Need to keep moving forward.
After another era and a half of walking, you come across a sentry post, manned by an insect monster with long, curly black hair. Large, multifaceted eyes cover most of her face, a grey four-sleeved sweater covers most of her torso, and the wooden boards of the sentry post cover the rest. Her arms rest casually at her sides, all four of them.
"Kid. What are you doing out here?"
The monster's voice, which is surprisingly pleasant if you set aside the buzzing undertones, interrupts your train of thought, brings you back to the present, your very tired predicament. You ask if you can sit down and warm up.
The sentry (?) tilts her head so as to better look at you, quizzical. You hope you're not too suspicious, hope she's not too… murdery. Back in—
"That depends. You came from the Ruins?"
...Yes.
She tilts her head slightly so as to better look at you, and something of the slow, mechanical motion reminds of you department store mannequins, primitive automatons. You're a little scared, but not as much as you initially were of-
"How's Grue doing?"
He's…He's...
You don't want to think about this. You really don't. You really really don't.
Wow, what nice weather we're having! Snow, ice, and coniferous trees! Beautiful day to freeze over and die! Not a cloud in sight! Nor a sun, nor a moon, also no sky at all, really and gee that's a really nice stick on the path over there, maybe you should go grab it just in case someone steps on it, would be a real shame if that happened you know, that would mean you don't have to—
"Kid. I'm gonna need an answer."
It doesn't look like she's going to be dissuaded.
Well… he's fine! You met him all right, the caretaker, he was great! Big skeleton in all black! Great! Amazing! He made you a hamburger and gave you a hamburger and let you sleep in his room and tucked you in and told you about his sister, his sister that died, not that he's dead or anything don't be silly and last you saw him he was… baking! Baking! That's a thing that skeletons do, right? Skeletons with their empty eyes and painful coughs and hollow ribcages and tearable jackets? No, skeletons and spaghetti! Happy grins! Reassuring grins even though they're the same grin! He's fine fine fine you didn't do anything he didn't make you do anything you didn't have to do anything you're sorry but you didn't do anything at all! Promise!
No you're not crying, you're crying! These aren't tears! They're...they're… victory tears! Tears of joy! Like victory smoke, whatever that is! You're not sad! No reason to be, of course.
"..."
As you wipe your face (for no reason!), the bug monster simply stares at you, face neither angry, sad, nor showing much of anything at all, really. Just staring at you. Menacingly. Judgingly.
"Do you really believe my judgement to be that poor?"
...No.
Her eyes pierce into your SOUL. It feels like justice, smells of retribution, drags your heart out and stabs it straight through, leaking shame and guilt all over the snowy path. Red, red, red everywhere, and not a single drop in a skeleton! Just dusty dust in the dusty wind in the dusty old Ruins! Dust in the wind and closed doors and more closed doors and then cold, dead, nothingness in your SOUL!
If only you had—
"Tell me, kid. What would you do if you had another chance?
—?
"What if, by fate or magical circumstance, you happened to get a cosmic do-over? Get to reload your last save, so to speak? What would you do?"
You would...
...You would do things better. Smarter. No FIGHTing, not a chance in heck. You'd find another way, because there had to be another way, right? Looking back… you hadn't exhausted all your options, not even close. You'd panicked, overcompensated at the touch of something only a tenth as bad as the aftermath. You could work out a compromise, try harder to talk things out, avoid any fatal mistakes. There is so much you could do with another chance.
And yet.
The bug monster sighs, walking out from behind her sentry post over to you, leaning down and—you hadn't realized you'd fallen down at some point, not sure when. She pats you on the shoulder with one arm, gently seizes your forearm with another, hoists you to your feet.
"Sorry about that, had to be sure. Come on. There's a fire over this way. It'll warm you right up, get you ready."
Slowly, allowing you to lean on her for support, she leads you off the beaten trail, deeper into the sparse woods. You don't resist, lost in the possibilities of what could have been, what should have been. But the flow of time only goes forward, never back, and so must you: keep moving forward, making strides, staying determined, lest you fall back into despair, fall into—
The ground gives way beneath you. In that strangled moment of free-fall, seemingly lasting far long than it should, you notice something very shiny at the bottom, realize that you no longer feel anyone's hand on your shoulder, and then—
Pain. In your shoulder, in your chest, in your stomach. And…
Black.
Purple.
You're standing on a pile of freshly fallen leaves, in front of an imposing wall of purple. The scene is very familiar to you.
You're back in the Ruins.
Directly in front of you, a four-pointed star blinks in and out, slowly rotating without a care in the world. The sight fills you with admiration, reminding you of the awe you experienced when seeing the Ruins entrance the first time. You don't recall this being here the first time you were through.
For that matter… how are you here again? Last you recall, you were… falling? You hit something?
Did you fall unconscious? And then the bug monster took you back here for… some reason? You have to admit, it is warmer in the Ruins than it is outside of them. Is that what she meant by a fire?
Somehow, you doubt it. There's something fishy going on here. You were standing. That's weird. And you know (you're not sure how but you do, more surely than that the sky is blue or that birds can sing) that the doors to the Ruins… they were never going to open ever again. Once closed, you'd never pass back through those doorways within your lifetime.
So what happened?
Filled with more questions than answers, you walk deeper into the Ruins, grabbing a fallen stick from among the leaves along the way.
The Froggit doesn't recognize you. It's giving its spiel on MERCY and Sparing again as if it's the first time you've met.
You're a little confused.
At first you kind of just ignore it. Maybe Froggits just have short memories, like goldfish or something; the thought doesn't quite feel right, but it's the best explanation you've got.
Then you reach the first monster encounter, in the exact same place with the exact same monsters (Froggit and Whimsun, for the record), and you finally come to the conclusion that something fishy's going on. It's almost as if you've traveled back in time.
Wait.
If you really have traveled back in time, though, that means…
You break into a dead sprint, running through the Ruins at record pace. The same monsters try to accost you, but you pay them no mind, speeding past Vegetoids and Moldsmals like they're not even there. Acutely, you're aware of how annoyingly small your legs are, wish they were longer so you could go faster so you could get to the big house with the big skeleton inside and…
You're not even sure what you want to do, need to do. But you need to get there quickly, nonetheless. And after what's probably about a minute or two but feels like an eternity you're back, rapping on the big door, trying to catch your breath. There's another yellow star next to the entrance, but that's not important, the furthest thing from your mind right now.
For a moment, you're worried it won't open, that there's nobody there to open it. But open it does, eventually, and then…
"Um… Hello, kid."
It's Grue. He looks and sounds exactly the same.
You don't even come up to his waist, don't have the capability to embrace him properly. But you barrel into him anyway, wrapping your arms around his legs in the biggest hug you can, clutching him tight. His black trousers scrunch up around the bones of his legs and he flinches slightly, trying to move a step back and a veritable fountain of saltwater springs from your eyes, soaking into the caretaker's pants, but you don't care.
He's alive. He's okay. He's fine. That's all that matters.
The large skeleton stands there, frozen. After a long moment of indecision, he reaches down, bending his knees and reaching out awkwardly, carefully, bringing to mind delicate vases, snippy cats. And he returns the embrace. Warm(?), hard bones wrapped around your body, cushioned only by black leather.
By all objective standards, you should be uncomfortable as hell. You're effectively being hugged by a corpse. One with hard edges, rough to the touch, borderline unsettling.
But you're not.
It feels like home.
Aside from your initial outburst, everything proceeds exactly the same way as it did before. The caretaker invites you in, makes you a pair of hamburgers (you're hungry again so you eat one), allows you to sleep in (his sister's?) a room. This time, you merely feign sleep, lying awake and thinking about the events of the confusing yet delightful day.
So: Time travel. A second chance. You still remember everything from the first time around in peak clarity. Almost photographic, if photographs could depict senses of smell and touch and hugs.
In particular, you very specifically recall the ominous question that bug monster sentry had posed. "What would you do if you had another chance?" You'd been a little too preoccupied at the time to pay it the note it deserved, but now that you're a little calmer, a little better-rested, it's starting to jump out at you a little. Also, the very sudden nature of your… you'll call it a reset, you think. The shock, how suddenly you'd fallen—strange. Suspicious, even.
What did she know? Anything? Was it all coincidence? She'd preempted your thoughts several times—was she a mind reader? An oracle?
You have far too many questions for a child that's fallen into an underground kingdom of monsters. Or would that be too few?
The door to your room creaks open, revealing the massive, bulky shadow of the caretaker, stretching from the dim hallway onto your supposedly sleeping form. You freeze, then try to relax your stiffed form, not give away the fact that you should be asleep. You close your eyes the maximum amount possible such that you can still see his approach, squinting hard enough to make your forehead hurt.
Slowly, but with purpose, he moves towards you, tread disquietingly quiet for someone of his size. Then, with one hand, he gently lifts you up off the bed, pushes back the blankets, and puts you back down, now snugly encased within the warm cushiony blankets.
Just as quietly as he entered, Grue exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
...He did tuck you in! You were right!
Also, it seems as if your memory isn't quite as good as you'd previously thought. You'd almost forgotten you'd had that supposition. Cool.
Anyway. The knowledge that somebody is looking out for you fills you with determination, allowing you to drift into an easy slumber.
The next morning, you wake up refreshed, raring to go, ready to take on the challenges awaiting you. One specific challenge, in particular.
You still want to leave the Ruins. Or at least, you'd like to be able to leave the Ruins—leaving permanently wouldn't be ideal, you might want to come back and see Grue occasionally. More importantly, though, you want to leave the Ruins without FIGHTing. You know that Grue doesn't want you to do that, wants you to prove yourself worthy. "Strong enough to survive," if you recall.
You have no intention of doing so. Or at least, not the way he wants. Getting out of bed, you once again grab the Toy Knife and Faded Ribbon and equip them to your person, then head out to the room where you know Grue will be sitting.
This time, watching him carefully from slightly beyond the doorframe, you realize that he's not actually reading the newspaper. More using it as a cover, watching out for your entrance. Kinda funny, honestly.
You walk into the room properly, at which point Grue lowers his grey periodical slightly, addressing you.
"Hello, I hope you had a nice rest?"
You most certainly did! Your thanks are numerous and hearty. You don't want to intrude on his hospitality, though, so quick question: how can you leave the Ruins?
"Don't worry about it, I'm more than willing to host you. If you'd like, I can try setting your room up to be more to your liking. Do you need toys? Additional clothes?"
The way Grue's words so perfectly echo what he said last time, despite the slightly altered circumstances, is interesting, but that also isn't exactly the response you were hoping for. You tell Grue that, no, you actually want to leave the Ruins.
And so the charade continues. Grue moves to the basement, monologuing, wearing his figurative heart on his sleeve. You do your best not to look too bored.
And then you're back at the Ruins exit. Grue folds his arms, plants himself solidly in front. The shadows writhe around you again like they did before, once again giving his skull that eerie, floating appearance.
"Prove yourself. Prove to me that you are strong enough to survive!"
And the FIGHT commences once again. Immediately, you draw the Toy Knife, wave it about in the air briefly, and ACT, throwing it at the purple stone floor as hard as you can.
You will not be FIGHTing here.
Grue seems surprised, from what little you can gather off his menacing white skull, but quickly regains his composure, once again starting the battle off with his little blobs of shadow. Previous muscle memory of what they're going to be like coupled with your natural skill at dodging means you don't get hit at all, of course.
And then it's your turn again. You sit on the floor, making no effort to pick up your discarded weapon, folding your arms much the same way Grue has folded his. MERCY.
Your turn passes slowly, to the point where even the caretaker gets confused.
"Are you going to take your turn?"
You are taking it. You're not gonna do anything. You're not gonna fight. ACTing proved futile. You're not running. While Monster Candy and your lone Dark Burger (mmm) are bound to be delicious, eating them won't serve any point right now.
You tell Grue that you're sparing him. He doesn't respond.
When his turn finally arrives, he sends another wave of attacks your way, dancing shadow blobs this time. You stand up and dodge again, and then proceed to do nothing again for your turn. The caretaker takes the hint a little faster this time, throwing waves of darkness at you, though he seems to be getting a little irritated.
The fourth time he attempts to attack you and you respond by trying to spare him, he loses his patience.
"What are you proving this way?"
You're proving that you can end fights without FIGHTing. You're proving that you don't have to hurt anybody. You're proving that you can learn, that you can make good use of your impossible second chance.
Grue doesn't seem to appreciate that. He sends out a new attack, spears of shadow launching from your flanks, tricky to dodge but still manageable.
You spend your next turn doing nothing, aggravating the caretaker even further.
"Stop it. This is pointless. Fight or die."
False dichotomy. You could not fight. And not die. You need Grue to understand this.
"The monsters out there… most of them will not even recognize humans on sight. It has been a long time."
He stops himself there, sends more bullets your way, another variant of the dancing shadow balls. Once finished, after you spend another turn passively urging him not to fight, he continues.
"The ones that will, however—the Royal Guard, several in Hotland, the Queen herself… they will not hesitate. You will die."
He hesitates, fails to attack this round, even after you give him an extra-long time to do so. You return the favor, motioning for him to continue. Internally, you're feeling hopeful: he stopped attacking! Does that mean he's starting to understand, finally starting to see the crux of the issue? His dialogue is not especially inspiring, but you're optimistic!
"You must either show me that you can fight, defend yourself. Or you will stay here. Only that way will you be safe. My conscience will not tolerate anything less."
Grue unfolds his arms, gesturing to the toy knife, almost forgotten on the ground.
"Take it."
No.
The caretaker growls, low and deep, visibly showing anger, teeth clenched and posture tense. "Why must you be so stubborn, kid? Have some common sense. You can't solve all your problems by just sitting there and doing nothing!"
Maybe. But you're pretty sure you can solve this one. Besides…
An idea occurs to you.
You ask Grue what he meant by 'Justice'. What the sixth child meant.
He is caught off-guard by your question, not expecting you to talk after your length of unbroken silence. Eventually, tone lilting upwards with uncertainty, he answers.
"For the other fallen children. I assume. I see no other reason for her to have targeted me specifically. A one hundred percent chance."
If that's the case, then
You hate to do this to him.
You ask Grue if his fighting has kept his sister safe.
He falters, freezes for the briefest of moments. His hands fall to his sides, bones rattling slightly. Trembling. His neck bends downward, gaze falling, looking at nothing.
You spend your next turn doing nothing, giving the caretaker time to recover. It works, and when his turn comes again, he's reassumed his stoic facade: recrossing his arms, focusing his eye sockets back on you. It's fragile, however. You can tell. His confidence has been sorely shaken.
"That's different."
Grue throws more shadow spheres at you, though with significantly less intensity than previously. You barely have to move to avoid them. The fight is going out of him.
"You're just a kid. You have to stay safe. Here. Or learn…"
He shakes his head.
"No. I'm just…being selfish. Lack of forethought."
You tell him that you will be okay. You're good at dodging! And if other monsters are anything like him, like the others in the Ruins, made of hopes and dreams and love, that should be enough!
You've said it before, but now you're saying it again. You'll be fine. You can feel it in your bones. Can he feel it in his?
Grue lets out a soft chuckle, melancholic. But understanding.
"Yes. I see. You would just be unhappy, trapped down here. And it is not my place to compromise who you are, who you wish to be."
The fight has ended, you realize. This chapter is over.
"You are correct. My fears… my expectations…I will set them aside. If you truly wish to leave the Ruins, I will not stop you."
Grue turns his head, looking at the massive double doors, then steps aside, no longer in the way. The exit is open.
You take a step towards it.
"Though… if you wish to return, I would not mind. We could have… a sleepover, of sorts. Maybe we could bake a pie. I've always wanted to try my hand at one of those."
You hesitate.
Grue stands off to the side, aloof, trying to keep a friendly expression on his more or less unchanging skull. You blink, and in that instant where your eyes are closed, see a very different picture involving the same skeleton: kneeling, trying to keep on a brave face, even as he lies… as he lies…
A door closing forever.
How long has Grue been living here? Alone in the dark, with naught but flowers and frogs for company? Haunted by memories of his greatest failure, a guilty conscience, a far-too-big house for a big skeleton.
Grue has always physically been very large, especially when compared to you. But looking at him now, his smile growing more strained by the second (even though it's still not changing dangit because he's a skeleton)... he seems so small. Diminished. Crushed by loneliness and expectations and fears, with no one to help prop him up.
You wonder what he will do after you pass through the Ruins doors, once his house is his and his alone again. Go to bed? Write a diary entry?
He just seems so… sad. And here you are, leaving him all over again. Maybe not leaving him with a hole in his hollow chest this time, but leaving him all the same.
"Kid?"
You don't reply. Instead, you walk up once again and wrap your arms around his legs. A hug.
And once again, he freezes, surprised, before slowly bending down, kneeling, returning it.
Even now, at his lowest point, he's still taller than you, you note. A strangely funny thought.
When the two of you break apart this time, you look up, look Grue dead in the eyes, promise him that you'll be back. No matter what happens, you won't forget him. You promise.
He nods.
"Thank you."
It's not much, you know. But judging by the look of things, it's enough.
The Ruins doors close behind you for the second time, and this time, when you look back, the kneeling skeleton on the ground does not fill you with dread.