Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Determination. The power to control time. Given to one human in a century, this power comes with three main options. SAVE, the storage of a moment in time. LOAD, the return to such a moment in time. And the most powerful, the RESET, in which the power takes time back as far as it can go.

Ib didn’t know any of this. All she knew was that sometimes, time would rewind itself around her. She had no control over this power, and it wasn’t very strong, so she put it out of mind. Nobody else ever remembered what she did, and sometimes she’d use it to her advantage, but to her, it was just something that happened.

For nine years, that was all it was. And then Ib’s parents announced that they would be visiting a local art gallery. The next day, Ib woke up with the distinct feeling that she was forgetting about something.

“Never trust a yellow flower. And save the blue rose.”

“Mom?” Ib asked on the way there. “Is there such a thing as a blue rose?”

“Of course not, sweetie. They don’t exist. Not real ones, anyway.”

“Oh.” But something told her that was wrong. There was such a thing as a blue rose. She just knew.

And then she met Garry, and she knew she was right. Blue roses did exist. One in particular. She just wished she knew why she felt so attached.

She’d always felt there was something off about Mary’s rose. Not the material, but the color. Yellow wasn’t a good color for her, the way red fit Ib perfectly and dark blue was definitely the right match for Garry. It was wrong.

She’d found it being fake wasn’t a surprise. Someone with Mary didn’t deserve a yellow rose. She didn’t know why she felt that way, it just was. Red was her color. Garry was important to her. And a murderer didn’t deserve a yellow rose.

She watched the painting go up in flames in satisfaction, not caring about the extra petals on her rose or the fact that her hands were literally burning. All she wanted was revenge.

And after Ib was sure that the painting was gone entirely, she moved back, controlled this time, knowing what she wanted to do.

She walked into the gallery and prepared to jump into the other world, noting, as she walked this path, that Garry was, for the moment, alive. She’d try not to let this chance go to waste.

Again. And again. She kept failing, couldn’t keep him alive. But she had to. She didn’t know why. But something in her refused to leave and go home without Garry. She listened to that part more than anything else.

She was certain that, had injuries the possibility of carrying over through time travel, her hands would be a blackened mess of burn scars by now. Still, she continued. She’d never permanently die, just move back a bit, until he died, at which point she would burn Mary and go back all the way.

It was like clockwork, if the clocks actually worked for her. The only change was that she now saw things as they really were, no longer fawning over nonexistent bunnies.

She hated those dolls. They were like a living reminder of her failures. Still, she hoped that this time, whatever she said could keep Garry from going off the edge around them, that she could open the door to that room and not find him so utterly broken. Sometimes, it even happened, although it still reached the same end.

She wished there was a way to save him for sure. But she couldn’t control his actions, only influence them with her own.

“Please, Garry,” she whispered as she left with Mary. “Please be okay.”

It wasn’t just the inside of the otherworldly Gallery that Ib explored. The normal world and exhibit had plenty of things for her to do, as well, until she left to try again. She noticed several things, took note so she could properly visit them later, once she’d succeeded.

She knew, when she first stepped into the museum, exactly where Garry would be. The Hanged Man portrait. He had told her, once, that it represented self-sacrifice. That he would be drawn to it… Ib didn’t believe in fate, her entire motivation being to change it, but she was sure that was what others would say.

Still she continued, walking in a storm of blood and roses, her mind set on a single goal.

She realized that, maybe, she was going crazy. She didn’t care anymore. There was one thing she wanted, and she was going to get it, no matter what.

She could control time near perfectly now. She’d prove that fate didn’t exist. She’d stop it herself, with no help from anybody.

Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. It wasn’t getting him not to give his rose to Mary. It was keeping Mary from ever getting a hold of a rose to begin with.

She wondered if it could be solved by simply going back a bit farther and wearing something with a pocket, but couldn’t think of anything in her closet that would work.

Still, when she and Garry fell, she clutched her rose tightly. She wouldn’t lose this time. She couldn’t.

It still fell. But Mary never got it.

Ib had won.

She didn’t want to forget. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but something in her knew that once they’d left, so would their memories. She didn’t want that to happen. She wanted to remember. After all, if she forgot, how would she remember the reason she knew so much?

“Garry-” She started, and stopped for a bit, properly composing herself. His rose was intact. She had succeeded in her quest, finally, showing the Determination that her red rose represented.

She had names for the colors now. Determination for red. Justice for yellow. And Integrity for deep blue. She didn’t know why they had those names, but she knew that they did. And that was just one of the questions she’d need to remember in order to answer properly.

“What is it, Ib?”

“Here.” She took his hand, with a cut on it from earlier, and now a few burns, and tied her handkerchief around it. “So nobody wonders about the burns.”

He accepted her gesture, didn’t comment on it. But, for now, her journey was over. She could go home.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she would do, after the Gallery. She’d just figured she’d get around to it when the time came. Now, it was over, and despite it being a complete hell, she almost felt lost.

She pushed away those feelings, and stepped through the painting.

He was in front of a rose sculpture now, and she wandered up next to him. She fingered the candy in her pocket appreciatively, glad that it had let her remember those trials. She wondered if the handkerchief had triggered his own memories yet.

“Oh! Would you like a better look?” Either he didn’t yet remember, or he was playing dumb. Ib was going to go with the former, because Garry was a terrible liar. That she had learned early on.

“Thanks. It’s an interesting statue, isn’t it?” She asked, wondering if she could trigger it herself. “I like roses. Just not yellow ones. Red roses are good, or… or blue.”

It wasn’t a conscious reaction, but he did back up a little. “Blue roses?” She was sure she was getting somewhere now.

She nodded. “I know they don’t normally exist, but… I like deep blue roses. I just get a good feeling from it- from them,” she corrected herself.

Garry paused, and pulled his hand out of his pocket. “Excuse me, but… what’s your name?” She could tell he was beginning to realize, and just smiled.

“You already know it.”

A year passed.

Chapter Text

The year after the Gallery was a good year for Ib. Her parents had been skeptical at first when she introduced them to Garry, but they came around eventually. She and Garry were very good friends now, and she considered him almost like an older brother. Ib let her powers fall to the wayside, figuring that she didn’t need them anymore.

Oh, how wrong she was.

It started the day before her tenth birthday. Every year, her parents would go on a trip for business to someplace or another for a week, and leave her behind. Generally, Ib would stay with one disgruntled relative or another, who didn’t like her. The feeling was completely mutual.

This was, however, the first time that said business trip would take them away for her birthday. They also probably realized just how much Ib and the extended family did not like one another. So, the fact that Ib had a friend who was nineteen helped them come to a decision, and rather quickly.

“There’s food in the pantry, and Ib’s present for tomorrow is on the top shelf of the hall closet. Do not feed her only macaroons.” She was pretty sure her mother was joking. Probably.

Ib had no clue of what was about to happen. To her, this was just the start of what she thought would turn out to be a fun week with Garry. Still, she had this nagging feeling. Like she was forgetting something important.

For her birthday, Ib had decided to wear a blue shirt with purple stripes. She felt it didn’t look that good on her, but it was comfortable, and that was what really mattered. Nobody would ever comment on it anyway, and it wasn’t like she’d be going anywhere important.

For a moment, she considered using her powers for the first time in a year, and preserving this day so she could always come back to it, but decided against it. It was over. She had saved Garry, and escaped the Gallery. Surely, there was only room for one death-defying adventure in a lifetime, and nothing bad was going to happen today.

That feeling of forgetting something became stronger for a moment, and she wondered if there was something she had forgotten. She’d always passed it off as just a weird feeling, but there was something about this day that seemed all too familiar.

She tried to stay in bed for as long as she could, but eventually, curiosity over her present and excitement for spending time with Garry won over. That, and she wanted breakfast. Breakfast would be nice.

The first thing Ib did after breakfast, now that she was finally allowed to, was open her present. It wasn’t… well, she didn’t know what she expected to see in the box. Two roses made of some sort of fabric certainly wasn’t at the top of the list, though. Red, five petals. Blue, ten petals.

“I never told them about the Gallery,” she wondered. “So, why…?” Still, she attached the red one to her shirt. She didn’t know why, but something told her that they’d need those roses, and the best thing she could possibly do was keep hers close.

That done, she handed the blue rose to Garry. “I think this is yours.” He hesitated, but accepted it.

“You don’t think this is…?”

“They’re not real. But they also aren’t normal, I-” For a moment, she considered spilling everything, and telling Garry about her powers. But something stopped her. “We need these. Don’t ask me how I know, but we do.”

She was sure he could tell she was hiding something. He always could. But she didn’t even know how she would explain the fact that she had powers over time, that since she had learned to use them properly, there was always this feeling that she was forgetting something.

More than that, she didn’t want to admit to him that, more times than she could count, she’d seen him die.

Ib’s idea of a perfect day involved sunshine, Garry, and macaroons. So, that afternoon, she asked for just that. Still, the feeling she was forgetting something weighed on her more than usual, and she glanced in the direction of the local mountain.

Mount Ebott. It was said that nobody who climbed that mountain ever returned. As such, people didn’t go there anymore, not often, anyway. But for the past year, something had been pulling her there. She tried to figure out why she wanted to go there, but all she got was small fragments and half-forgotten dreams.

“Chara, what are you doing?”

“Give your directions, Ib! We don’t have much time!”

“Chara!”

“Ib? Are you feeling all right?” Garry asked.

She shook her head, and the memory fragment disappeared. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.” She wished he couldn’t see through her lies so easily, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

“...Chara, what’s a dark blue soul mean?”

“It means Integrity. People with Integrity souls are natural lie detectors, although they can’t tell one to save their life.” The fragment, again, faded before she could really think on it. “My mind has been all sorts of places today.” But there was someplace she needed to be.

“Well, it is your birthday. I suppose there’s a lot you could think about.” She wasn’t sure she had actually convinced him, but at least he was playing along.

It scared her that her only true friendship had come about by careful manipulation and hiding the truth, but what could she do? It wasn’t like anyone would believe she had special powers anyway. And the alternative… she wasn’t sure what would have happened, but something told her it wouldn’t have been very good.

Garry’s words also brought something else to mind. In just a few days, she would have known him for an entire year, making it not just her only true friendship, but her longest-lasting one, as well. She didn’t want to jeopardize it. Never.

She didn’t know the entire contents of the phone call. She got the meaning well enough, though. She also knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She hadn’t used her SAVE ability since the Gallery, and she was never going back there. She’d won. That was it. Nothing could convince her to return to that hell.

Not even the lives of her parents. Especially not from an event that she saw literally no way of stopping. She wasn’t putting herself through all that again just for inevitable failure. It just wasn’t realistic.

Some part of her called her out for invoking realism when she had powers over time, but that was normal.

She couldn’t do anything about this. The way she saw it, she had three options. Go back to the Gallery for certain failure, stick around and deal with what had happened, or run away from it all. She chose the last option, sticking some spare clothes in a backpack and running out the door in the direction of Mount Ebott.

Time to figure out what that strange feeling was all about.

She only wondered what would happen if she had managed to lose Garry, instead of him falling down the giant hole with her.

No. No. No. She couldn’t be here. Ib couldn’t be back. He’d mentioned the possibility of her returning to give back his power, but he was only joking! Mostly.

Well, there wasn’t any use worrying about it. Besides, this might have been a blessing in disguise.

The angel in the prophecy had to ‘return’ to the Underground, anyway. He reached out to shake her awake, but then remembered that that was one of the many powers he had lost. Now, the most he could do was persist, and remember. Physical interaction, as far as he could tell, was beyond him.

Still, even if he’d given most of it up, his best trait was Determination.

“Wake up, Ib,” He whispered, hoping desperately that she could hear him. “It’s me, Chara.”

Chapter Text

For a moment after she regained consciousness, Ib couldn’t quite remember where she was. When the memories finally hit her, she turned over and tried to fall asleep again.

“I know you’re awake,” A faint voice sounded. Groaning, she sat up and opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was that she was surrounded by golden flowers. Wincing on some instinct, she scrambled off of the flower bed. “Wow, that was quick.”

She glared in the direction of the voice, seeing a very faint red silhouette. Odds were, if she hadn’t been looking for it, she’d never have known it was there. “Who are you and what do you want?” The vague shape flinched away.

“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have done that…” it muttered. “Anyway, I suppose I should introduce myself properly. I am Prince Chara Dreemurr of the Underground.”

He didn’t seem to mean Ib any harm, so she decided to approach him. He leaned away. “Personal space, please.” Something about him seemed wrong. He was too faded, too weak. All she knew was that this wasn’t how he was supposed to be.

“What happened to you?” She asked, quietly. Chara just laughed.

“I had to… to help a friend. So I gave them my powers of Determination. Except, the way I am now, I’m all Determination. Kinda forgot to factor that in. Remember it, if you ever end up like me.”

Determination. Like what her rose represented. She glanced at it, and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It had definitely been fabric before her fall. Now it was real, and she could tell. More than that, she could easily sense the connection between herself and the flower.

An idea seized her. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but… she reached out for that moment in time, preserved it. There. Now she’d never have to go back to the Gallery. And it gave her a backup in case her plan didn’t work out.

She took a single petal in her hand, and ripped it off, wincing at the long cut that had appeared on her arm. Somehow knowing what came next, she squeezed the petal until it crumpled, before handing it to the shade. He accepted it, and it disappeared as he appeared more fully. She could see him without squinting now, and although he wasn’t quite as visible as she thought he should have been, she could at least properly interact with him.

“...Thanks,” He finally said. “But you might want to LOAD now. Unless you want your friend to see you like this when he wakes up.”

Ib thought for a moment, before realizing what he was referring to. “You mean that thing I do when time goes back?”

“Yeah, it’ll heal you, and I won’t lose what you gave me because I’m the same as you… minus the actual powers. Lost the ability to use them when I decided to die for good. So don’t do that until you’re good and ready, okay?”

She laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. Oh, I’m Ib, by the way,” She added, as time flowed back. Her cut vanished, and Chara gave a sad sort of smile.

“Ib, huh? That’s… a nice name. Now, how about you wake up your friend? Just remember that he won’t be able to see or hear me. His soul is different from yours, after all.”

She already knew that. She glanced at the flowers she’d have to go through to get to Garry.

...Something told her this was going to be a long adventure.

She didn’t remember him. He knew she wouldn’t, but the confirmation hurt all the same. Bad enough Asriel was a sociopathic flower, but now the only other friend he’d ever had didn’t even know him. And she had someone more important now.

“Come on, Garry, get up.” She nudged him gently, although Chara could tell that she hated being surrounded by those flowers. Understandable. He didn’t like them much either, after everything. And that direction she had given… had she been planning to come back for him from the start?

If she had, her telling herself not to trust yellow flowers was understandable, but… he supposed he couldn’t judge her. He’d never used his powers for much of anything, except maybe to eat the same slice of pie over and over again. She had a purpose, and he could only be glad that she’d managed to fulfill it.

He tried to suppress the pang of jealousy he felt when Garry sat up and Ib latched onto him.

“You’re okay!” She cried out. “I was worried about you! Why did you follow me?”

“Ib, you ran up a mountain which kids have been said to climb and… never… return...” Chara could sense the exact moment that Garry realized just how likely they were to die down there. His old self would have thought it was funny. Sad, yes, but funny.

“We’ll get out,” She replied, almost automatically. “There has to be an exit.” She glanced at Chara, and he nodded.

“There is. It’ll be difficult to get the two of you there, but there is a way.”

Ib fingered her rose. “Besides, if we didn’t have a chance, why would these have become… well, real?”

Garry inspected his own rose, almost like he was seeing it for the first time. “There’s… an extra petal now… This doesn’t make any sense.” Still, he stood up, and Ib immediately took his hand.

Chara had to remind himself that Garry had, technically, been Ib’s friend before him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at them. It brought back too many memories.

Still… if Garry was Ib’s ‘Asriel’, Chara could handle traveling alongside him, if only for the sake of his friend. And speaking of Asriel, there was that flower now.

“Howdy! I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower!” Nope. This was not happening. It was a talking flower, that could not be real, and worst of all, it was yellow. Again, the rational part of Ib pointed out that the Gallery and her time powers made realism kind of a moot point.

“The two of you are new to the Underground, aren’t you?” And he was leaning far too close to her for comfort now. Garry must have nodded, because the abomination continued. “Golly, you must be so confused! Well, if you don’t have anyone around to show you the ropes, I guess little old me will have to do!”

“Garry? I don’t trust him,” She whimpered, tugging his hand. “Can we just go?”

“He doesn’t seem to be giving us a choice.” And then their roses floated away from them, turning into hearts of the exact same color. Ib’s continued to float in front of her, while Garry’s fell to the ground.

“Soul Roses, huh? Well, I guess I don’t need to go into the whole ‘culmination of your being’ thing… shame… I haven’t had a chance to give that speech yet…” The flower sighed, before straightening up again. “A-ny-way, your souls are weak right now, but with just a little LV, they can become stronger- that stands for LOVE, by the way.”

“Which stands for Level Of ViolencE,” Chara finished, walking up next to Ib. “Don’t listen to a word he says. And yes, all of the locals here can- and will- put your soul’s true form on display. It’s best not to think about it too much.”

“Down here, LOVE is shared through little white… friendliness pellets.” As soon as she saw the bullet, she stepped behind Garry, her soul taking shelter behind his.

“...And now, I don’t think he’s even trying,” Chara commented. “I mean really, friendliness pellets? Who would actually fall for that?”

“You just need to move your souls around! Get as many as you can!”

“You really expect me to believe that?” Garry asked as he moved his soul away from the bullets, Ib’s immediately following it.

“...Yeah, I kinda was. Well, given that you seem to know what’s going on already… DIE .”

The attack never came. Instead, Flowey was blasted away by a fireball. Ib came to the realization that a lot of the threats to her life could be resolved with fire.

“Oh my, two of you… well… Greetings. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins.”

“Greetings. I am Chara.”

The feeling hit her again, much more strongly this time, and she passed out.

Chapter Text

For as long as Garry had known Ib, there had always been something familiar about her. It wasn’t anything with a logical explanation, it just was. It certainly wasn’t something he could question, either, given the circumstances. With living paintings and everything trying to kill him, a little girl with red eyes was the least strange thing that had happened that day.

Besides, it hadn’t been just Ib. Several times he had found himself knowing how a puzzle could be solved without needing to think on it, puzzles that he was sure he’d never seen before. The whole experience had just been crazy, and that was all there was to it.

Over time, thoughts of just how odd Ib had been at times vanished, and she became just a part of Garry’s life. An important one. Which was why her suddenly falling unconscious was such a big concern.

“Oh my!” The one who had saved them, Toriel, gasped. “Did that creature manage to harm her?”

“Not as far as I’m aware… but she’s had a lot to deal with recently.” Unless she’d also gained a petal, her rose was intact, so it wasn’t something he knew how to deal with.

“Poor dear. But then, nobody who’s climbed this mountain in the past has done so for a happy reason.” She knew about the disappearances? It did make some sort of sense, although that did bring up the question of how everyone would have managed to fall down the exact same gaping hole.

Ib stirred, and Garry let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “What… just happened?” She asked, opening her eyes.

“You fainted when I came in. You aren’t hurt, are you?” Toriel’s voice had a tone of warmth to it, as though she’d dealt with this situation, or similar, several times.
“Oh.” And there was her old tone of dull unsurprise, albeit quieter than what he was used to. “I… probably scared you, huh? Sorry.”

“Do you think it will happen again?” She paused, before shaking her head. “Well, it’s fine then, isn’t it?” He wondered if the lie was just as painfully obvious to Ib and Toriel as it was to him. Knowing his luck, it probably was.

Still, as Toriel led them deeper into the cavern that they had fallen into, Ib still refused to let go of his hand. And Garry didn’t mind that one bit.

While Garry’s first view of the architecture in the Underground was rather impressive, he was rather apprehensive as to how the doors seemed to work.

“Please tell me we won’t have to do that every time we want to go through a door,” Ib stated, clearly sharing the same concerns.

“There is little need for concern. While the Underground is full of puzzles, most are simple enough for even a child to do them. You will be just fine…” Toriel paused for a moment. “It just occurred to me that I never asked for your names.”

“My name is Garry,” he introduced himself. “And this is Ib.” Said girl had gone quiet again when Toriel’s attention had been drawn to her. It was strange. He could never remember her acting this shy, even in the Gallery.

Toriel nodded, seemingly committing their names to memory. “Puzzles are a very important part of Monster culture, so you should adjust yourselves to the sight of them.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Garry forced out, trying, and failing, not to think about the last set of puzzles he had encountered. “We’re good at puzzles.” Ib nodded, but looked resolutely at the ground.

“Well, that makes things easier, then!” Toriel was visibly relieved, which could not have been a good sign. Just how many of those things were there? “The next puzzle along our path is far simpler,” she continued as she led them through the door.

As they continued, Ib stopped and tugged on his hand. “Garry? Please tell me I’m reading this wrong.”

“Press X to- The Gallery probably wasn’t good for my mental health, but this place is going to be even worse.”

“Don’t say that!” Ib’s response was immediate, her grip on his hand actually tightening. “It’s not funny!”

“Are the two of you okay?” Toriel called back.

“We’re both fine,” Ib stated, clearly lying. Her tone was unusually harsh, but when she turned to Garry again, she put on another smile. “Come on, we should hurry.”

He didn’t think he would ever understand her.

“As humans living in the Underground, Monsters will sometimes attack you. If this happens, stall for time. Try to strike up a friendly conversation. You’ll find that, at least here in the Ruins, most Monsters are perfectly willing to talk things out.” Toriel gestured to the Dummy. “Try practicing with this Dummy.”

This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? Garry glanced to the Dummy, then back to the ground.

“Garry, it’s a Dummy. It’s not a doll or a mannequin. It’s perfectly safe.” Ib’s smile still hadn’t dissipated, and she seemed back to her normal self. “I’ll even go first, if you want.”

Letting go of his hand, she stepped forward until she was right in front of the Dummy. “Um… hello…” Pausing, she turned back to him. “Come on! It’s not going to kill you!” Clearly, he wasn’t going to win this one. Not that he ever did.

“It- it’s nice to meet you,” he stammered out. This was about the point where he realized just how sorely unprepared he was for that day. Not that there had been any way he could have prepared properly.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Ib asked.

“Very good, the both of you,” Toriel congratulated them. “Come along, now.” She vanished into the next room.

Ib walked back to Garry and grabbed his hand again. “Well, you heard her. Let’s go!” Still, something wasn’t quite right. More than usual, anyway.

“Ib… what’s the matter?” She was never this clingy before.

“Nothing. I’m just fine!” And perhaps that would have fooled anyone else, but not him. And perhaps she realized it, because she glanced away almost immediately. Still, she said nothing more, and he wouldn’t press her on it. Not yet. There were other things to worry about.

“Garry, that was a Froggit. It wasn’t that scary,” Ib sighed, and Garry wondered just where she had come across the name of the frog Monster.

“Ib, I don’t see how you can be so calm about this.” Even in the Gallery, she’d never reacted very strongly to much of anything… well, for the most part.

“It’s not like this is anything new,” She pointed out, and he realized she wasn’t exactly wrong.

Toriel gave a small, choked laugh. When Garry and Ib glanced at her, she simply shrugged. “The two of you remind me of… some people I used to know.” This was true, but clearly not the whole truth. Also not anything new. She led the two humans into another corridor. “Monsters will not attack you while you are here. I need to run some errands, so the two of you should stay here for a bit. It may take a while, however. Do either of you have a phone?”

Garry nodded, pulling his out of his pocket. Undamaged, but given that they were under a mountain, unlikely to be able to make a call to humanity. Not that there was anyone he could call at the moment.

Toriel took the phone, fiddled with it for a moment, and handed it back. “I will call you if anything comes up. Actually- to be safe…” She pulled out a second phone, an older one, and handed it to Ib. The girl glanced away for a moment, but took the phone nonetheless. With that, Toriel left the two of them in the hall by themselves.

Ib yawned. “How long have we been down here?” At this, Garry realized just how tired he was. “I don’t think she’ll be back any time soon, either. Can we rest here?”

“...I certainly don’t see a reason not to,” He finally admitted, sitting down and leaning against a wall. Immediately, Ib slid herself into his jacket, leaning against him. “Ib…”

“If I don’t hold on, what’s stopping you from leaving me?” She asked quietly.

Garry didn’t know what was worse. The fact that he had no way to really answer Ib’s question… or the fact that she had asked it to begin with.

Chapter Text

Ib had always liked Garry’s jacket. She’d always wondered what possessed him to wear it in midsummer, but never thought to ask. It was one of those things about him that she felt she didn’t need an answer to. There weren’t many of those. Back in the Gallery, she’d had all the time in the world to get to know him.

Given that most of the past year was her ‘learning’ things about him she’d already known, and she was still far from done with that, there wasn’t much time to ask, either. Not that it mattered to her. Garry was Garry, slight quirks and all. And the jacket was comfortable, she admitted that much.

More than that, they were in a place that was more or less untouched by natural light, so despite what seemed to be the best efforts of the inhabitants, there was a certain chill that just wouldn’t fade away. So she didn’t care, not really.

But even now, when she was as comfortable as she could possibly get, and she knew the room was safe, she didn’t dare fall asleep. She knew that was probably a bad thing, given that she didn’t even know when she had last properly slept, but if she could stay awake, she supposed it wasn’t that bad.

“You know, you should really get some proper sleep,” Chara stated. “It’s as safe as it’ll ever be. I can keep watch.” She didn’t know why she let the ghost boy tag along, but something told her she couldn’t get rid of him, even if she tried.

“I… I’m not that tired.” Even before she finished, Ib realized just how obvious the lie was.

“Right. Because you fall down a giant hole, learn about the existence of monsters and magic, and take it completely fine, when you were outright asking for a chance to rest.” Chara shook his head. “I don’t even know what I was expecting.”

“It’s not even the first time I’ve been someplace magic, though,” Ib mused, quietly, but still loud enough that Chara could hear her. “The Gallery had a kind of magic, too. A scary kind.”

Chara didn’t ask about the Gallery. Which was fine, because Ib didn’t want to talk about it. This new experience was bound to be all kinds of traumatic, no need to be welling up any more.

Besides, despite everything, something told her that not even the Monsters would believe her story.

Chara watched as Ib took two pieces of candy from the bowl, before turning around and handing one of them to Garry. Where it anyone but his only friend that could see him and the friend she liked more than him, he’d honestly call it cute.

He wouldn’t say it was jealousy that stopped him. He was a prince, and princes didn’t get jealous. He was just unused to being friends with somebody who cared more about someone else than him. He’d had no friends before Asriel, who didn’t have any other friends, and Ib, the last time, had told him everything.

He’d vehemently deny being jealous, of course, despite the fact that many people, Ib and Asriel included, would say that his emotions fit the dictionary definition of jealousy perfectly.

It wasn’t like he’d been having a very good day beforehand- it was kind of hard to, when there wasn’t even anybody to talk to- but somehow, despite having pleasant company, he was actually feeling worse. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was Ib not trusting him as immediately as she had before. Maybe it was that she’d not wanted to follow him until she could convince Garry to come along.

Or maybe Chara was simply jealous. He’d never admit it, of course.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the telltale sound of a crumbling floor. Oh. They were there already. He decided to keep closer tabs on just what was happening around him, as he no longer had nobody being capable of acknowledging his existence as a viable excuse.

Ib brushed a leaf out of her hair, not for the first time, and wondered who, exactly, would think a puzzle requiring you to walk a very specific path was a good idea. Even after leaving several gaping holes in the path- and having a good vantage point, for that matter- she found it hard to focus on anything other than walking. Perhaps she was more tired than she thought.

Without proper focus, it was hard not to stumble off of the safe path every now and again. But on the bright side, she was running out of holes to fall in.

“Okay, attempt six…” She muttered. Actually attempt seven, she hadn’t been ready for the fall the first time around and didn’t fancy trying to navigate with a concussion along with everything else. But she couldn’t actually say that. So six it was.

Chara had, on a basic level, some understanding of how Ib could be the way she was- if she settled on a way to be, anyway, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. It was almost impressive, how quickly and fluidly she changed, yet constantly gave everyone a different impression of her.

Of course, he’d seen those different sides for himself. When they’d first met, she’d been nothing but a surprisingly nice human girl with the misfortune of having a mass murderer for a sister. Most anyone would have cracked under that. Perhaps, if her memories hadn’t returned, he wondered if she would have, as well.

It was only after they went back that Ib had become… well, the best thing Chara could say about it, was that she had become an excellent actress. The girl he’d… found would be a good word… didn’t seem to exist anymore.

Instead, she was replaced by a series of masks, or that seemed to be his best definition. He still saw something like the person she used to be, even if she weren’t quite ‘real’, if only when interacting with one specific person. One that wasn’t him.

He got the suspicious treatment, same as everything else they’d encountered, although he supposed her being even slightly more open with him was a good thing. As gentle as she tried to be in a world where everyone was… fragile, she’d also always been highly confrontational. No wonder she and Undyne had gotten along so well.

Chara tried to convince himself that it was concern for his friend, and not jealousy, that led him to look at Garry as little as possible in favor of literally anything else. He wasn’t even managing that anymore.

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Napstablook was used to, more than even the usual monotony of being Underground, it was the feeling of loneliness.

It had started with the gradual exodus of the Blook family. Some of them left to become training dummies- a tradition older than the Barrier, though back then it was just to get used to the feeling of being corporeal and controlling that sort of body, with very few ever choosing it as their permanent shape. Some simply decided to haunt elsewhere. A few found things they thought they’d like to be in the trash dump. And Mettaton… was Mettaton. Enough said.

Napstablook had, of course, attempted to keep going. And with the snail farm being a semi-productive business, there wasn’t any need to worry about the money running out. But being naturally shy and self-deprecating made it difficult to interact with others, and the wide caverns meant plenty of contact. Which left the ghost with insecurities that kept reinforcing themselves, and sometimes the only solution was to hide.

Finding the Ruins had been a happy accident. Well, so much as phasing through a wall in a panic could be considered accidental, anyway. It was a nice place, there were a few family members there, and nobody cared about someone randomly showing up to sleep in the middle of a tight corridor- or, at least, pretend to.

Toriel had caught on a few times when she went to visit Prince Chara’s grave, but she never said anything about it, and Blooky always made sure to gather up a bucket of snails as an apology for the inconvenience, so it all worked out with minimal fuss.

It would be a long time before anyone else saw through their act- or, at least, acknowledged it. A pair of humans wearing roses, the male’s a deep blue like the soul of the last human to fall, and the female’s a stunning crimson to match her eyes, the exact shade of which the ghost had only seen once before, when they were very young and the royal family had come over to Waterfall to watch the first snail races.

A comparison made all the more obvious by the girl’s closed, guarded expression. She was the one to see them first, at least as far as they could tell, tugging on her friend’s hand and directing his attention to them. He was somewhat more apprehensive, following the girl’s lead despite their great difference in age.

The girl’s name was Ib. The young man was called Garry. The two were trying to get to Toriel’s house, which meant that Napstablook was in the way.

“oh... sorry… just not feeling up to it right now…” They muttered, unsure as to what to do.

In this situation, the majority of the Underground would probably attack the duo, if they were recognized as human in the first place- nobody under the age of eleven had ever even met one, and the poor girl had barely made it to Waterfall before slipping on a rock and breaking her neck, with the one who fell before being twenty-five years prior to that. Some would try to get the two to safety. Mettaton would be himself.

Napstablook, though… they’d never put much thought into it. But that was fine, because Ib seemed perfectly nice behind the guarded expression, and Garry was the sort to laugh at the Dapper Blook trick, so it all turned out okay in the end, and they parted on good terms.

Huh. For a few minutes there… they hadn’t felt so lonely anymore.

Ib was pretty sure that a normal girl, upon finding a ribbon laying in the dirt that was so faded she could no longer tell if it was originally blue or purple, wouldn’t immediately pick it up. Of course, normality hadn’t been a thing that applied to her since an accidental activation of her powers allowed her to prevent what she liked to call The Great Cafeteria Food Fight of First Grade from occurring, but when the alternative was having a carton of strawberry milk dumped over her head, she’d take what she could get.

Of course, Mary had appeared five minutes later with- wait, no, that was a dream. At no point had an insane painting girl shown up and thrown a bowl of hot soup in the other local bully’s face, as funny as that would have been. And Ib really needed to sort out her childhood before the age of nine at some point.

Still, figuring out where her powers and various traumas had messed up her memories could come later. Right then, she was twisting an incredibly old piece of fabric between her fingers. “Hey, Chara? How long do you think this has been here?”

“Well, I last saw one just like it worn by this girl who passed through… oh, sixty, seventy years back? Something like that.” The phantom shrugged, glancing upwards. “Why do you ask?”

“I mean, that means nobody wants it anymore, right?” She checked, tugging on the ends. Despite its age, it was surprisingly sturdy. Maybe she’d keep it for a bit, as a good luck charm.

The second time Napstablook met Ib was a little over an hour after the first, when she leapt down from a hole in the ceiling. Her hair was now done in a ponytail, for some reason.

“You know, I may be a little too used to falling like this…” The girl mused, before noticing them. “Oh, it’s you. How are you?” She was less open than she had been before, and Blooky wondered if they had did something wrong, but answered anyway.

“i’ve fallen down here… go on without me…”

“Um… you’re a ghost. And you were floating earlier,” Ib pointed out. Napstablook blinked, wondering how they could possibly have forgotten that.

“oh... that’s right… sorry for wasting your time…” They decided to head back to Waterfall for the time being. Right then, the Ruins were far too exciting for their tastes.

At the heart of the Ruins lived a very old Boss Monster. Well, chronologically old, at least. Not that she ever put much thought to it, anymore. Most of the time.

This was one of those times that she did. Fire magic was easy for her to control, and simply ordering it to stay at a certain temperature while the pie baked was the first thing any aspiring cook in the Underground needed to learn.

Now, leaving the house was still a bad idea, but it did leave her with time to reminisce, with photo albums pulled off the shelves and memories of the ones who had gone before. Chara, Asriel, Ann, Tyler, Austin, Jane, Sam, and Gabby. And, perhaps, Ib and Garry would be added to that list.

No. They wouldn’t be. Not if she had anything to say about it.

This time, she’d make a stand.