Archive of Our Own ^beta

The child had gone upstairs, just like she told them to, and they had yet to come back down. Which was good, of course. She didn't want them down here. It would take a great deal of destructive magic to seal the Ruins exit forever, and it would be safest for the child to remain upstairs until she was done. It was quite good, then, that they were so obedient.

Toriel sighed and put her back to the door, leaning against it.

Yes. Very good. That there would be no one to stop her.

Some time later she still leaned against the door, but now instead of standing she sat on the ground, weighed down by the task ahead. Funny how she felt so tired, when she had yet to do any work. It seemed every minute she promised herself she would soon get up and destroy the door, and yet every minute found her still sitting here, waiting for the next. This was ridiculous. Could she really not bring herself to do it? Was there really a part of her hoping the child would come try to stop her? It wasn't as if they could, even if they wanted to. And yet…

No. Enough of this. She stared down at her hands, watched flames flicker to life in her palms. It was too late for second thoughts. She had made her decision.

Knock-knock.

She sat up with a jolt at the rap on the door, but soon relaxed when it was accompanied by a familiar voice:

"Knock-knock!"

The fire in her hands died immediately.

Goodness, was it time already? She wasn't exactly in the mood, but she didn't want her dear friend to worry about her either. Best to play along for now, and, in a minute, find an excuse to leave early. And then… Well, best not to think too hard about it, for now.

"Who is there?"

"Arch."

"Arch who?"

"Gesundheit."

"Ha," she laughed weakly, "Danke."

"Heh. So Woshua robbed the shop in Snowdin yesterday."

"What?"

"Yup, and he made a clean getaway."

She laughed. Even if now was hardly the time, she just couldn't help it. He laughed too, and that was always a pleasure to hear. Her heart panged as she realized that if she truly blocked the exit off forever, destroyed the door and made the tunnel itself impassable, she may never hear that laugh again.

He'd gone quiet now, waiting for her to tell one. What had she come up with for today again? Oh, right:

"Why did the skeleton need a friend?"

"Beats me."

"Because she was bonely."

"Nice," he said with a chuckle, "Hey, what's a skeleton's favorite instrument?"

"The trombone, of course."

"Ya got me."

Womp womp wooooooomp!

"Wh-what?!" She scrambled to her feet and turned around, pressing close to the door. "Was that…? Did you just play a…?"

"Welp, like I said, it's my favorite." Wooooomp!

Toriel snorted.

Womp-womp?

She snickered.

Womp-womp wooowoooooooomp…

Tears crept to the corners of her eyes as she tried to hold it in. This was really too much!

Womp.

She couldn't repress it any longer. A giggle fit of epic proportions burst forth, so intense that soon she was struggling to breathe.

Wom—pfft!

Her friend tried to play more notes only to be overcome himself by a breathless bout of uncontrollable chuckles, and thus the vicious circle began: His laughter only made her laugh harder, while her laughter only served to egg him on, and on and on it went. By the time they finally recovered, her stomach hurt and she was panting like she'd run a marathon.

"I haven't… laughed like that… in years!"

"Heh, you say that every time."

"Do I?" This was the first time he'd pointed it out, but, now she stopped to think about it, he was right. It seemed every time they met he eventually managed to make her laugh like this, so hard she lost herself for a moment.

"Yup. 's why I keep comin' back."

Even though she couldn't see his face, she somehow knew he was winking.

"Heavens…" she murmured, shaking her head.

"…hey, can I ask you somethin' serious?"

She frowned. That was certainly a change of pace.

"Of course. What is it?"

"Is… is everything, like, okay in there? You seem kinda different today."

Oh dear.

"Different? How so?" Ha. How so, indeed. She heard herself how low her voice was all of a sudden.

"…I dunno, like…" He didn't finish his thought. Perhaps he was afraid of making her angry. "…eh, forgeddaboudit. Didn't mean to get weird on ya."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, and Toriel's heart sank. She couldn't let them part ways like this, especially if this would be their last meeting.

She had to admit, she did not like that thought, that this would be their last meeting. Even though she was sure she'd keep herself busy looking after the human child, the Ruins could be very small some days, and losing her friend would only make them smaller.

It occurred to her that a place too small to make even an old woman happy would be hell for a child, but they couldn't leave. If they met Asgore…

Then again, there were monsters in the Underground who were not so cruel, and perhaps the child could benefit from meeting someone like that. Someone like…

"May I ask you 'something serious'?" she asked. She was still far beyond the point of ever letting another child leave through this door.

"Shoot."

Still, perhaps it was not too late to have second thoughts about destroying the door itself. A door was a useful thing to have, even if one had no intention of leaving.

"Could you wait here while I leave for just a moment? There is someone I would like you to meet."

"Huh? I mean sure, yeah, no prob. Not like I've got anywhere to be."

"Thank you. I will return soon."

Toriel smiled as she ascended the stairs. Her friend sounded quite surprised at the prospect of her bringing a new voice to the door. She suspected he'd be all the more shocked when she came back and unlocked it.

"Hey Papyrus," Sans called out when he got home, shutting the door behind him.

"Sans!" came Papyrus's voice from the kitchen, "Guess what?!"

"Wha—"

"I captured the human! Did you see?!

"Yup, I saw. Good job, bro."

On his way in, Sans had poked his head into the toolshed to see how the human was doing. They should've been able to slip between the bars Papyrus put up no problem, but they hadn't bothered. They were just lying on the floor with their eyes closed, head propped up on the dog bed like a pillow. They looked tired as hell, like they could sleep for a year, but, funny thing was, Sans didn't think they were sleeping. They looked too tense. More like they were waiting.

"Think they might be gettin' kinda lonely in there," he said as he wandered into the kitchen. Papyrus was bent over a boiling pot on the stove.

"Worry not!" he cried, giving the pot a vigorous stir, "Soon, I shall bring them spaghetti to comfort them."

"Good idea. They, uh, they'll probably need a lot of 'comfort' waitin' for Undyne…" Time to see how long he had left to figure out how he'd "protect" them from that…

"Oh. Well. Actually, that may not be a problem. You see, I haven't told Undyne I captured the human yet."

"Oh?"

Papyrus pulled his gaze from the spaghetti pot and turned to face him.

"It's just, I've been thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Undyne's attitude toward humans is rather… murdery, isn't it?"

"You could say that," said Sans diplomatically.

"And this human isn't very strong; I defeated them quite easily! If they faced Undyne…"

"…yeah."

"But if I don't turn the human over to Undyne, I might never join the Royal Guard!"

"I dunno about never…"

"But I already told her I found a human! If I were then to let the human escape, never to be found again, I… I'm certain she would forgive me, but, from that point forward, any time I tried to explain why I should be a member of the Royal Guard, this failure would loom over me…"

"…okay, yeah, maybe never," Sans admitted with a shrug and a frown. His brother wasn't always the best at predicting how people'd react to things, but, when it came to his friends, and when it came to important stuff like this, he could read a situation way better than you'd expect. And, odds were, he was right: He wasn't gonna get in the Guard without handing the human over to Undyne, and if he handed the human over to Undyne…

Her mission wasn't the kind of thing you could talk her out of. Maybe the kid could endear themself to her—they had to everyone else they'd met so far—but they'd have to survive a couple of murder attempts first, and, after seeing how fast Papyrus took them down, Sans didn't like their chances. No, their best shot at keeping the kid from becoming a kebab was hiding them from Undyne and taking the consequences.

"I really don't want the human to get hurt," said Papyrus, shoulders slumping.

"Me neither," said Sans. He had a promise to keep, after all. Hell, maybe even if he didn't he'd still be rooting for them. Maybe. They seemed like a good kid.

Papyrus sighed. He had a look on his face Sans had never seen there before.

"Joining the Royal Guard was a fine dream," he said, "But… perhaps it's as you always say: Someday, one has to learn when to quit, yes?"

God, it hurt to hear those words in Papyrus's voice, but what was Sans supposed to do, argue? He didn't wanna watch Undyne skewer the kid any more than Papyrus did, and, besides, he was the last guy to talk to about how to stay determined.

Papyrus leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, having nothing more to say. The spaghetti pot was boiling over, but either he didn't notice or didn't care. Jeeze. If this was what watching over the human was gonna be like, Sans didn't know if he could stand it. But maybe it didn't have to be…

"Hey," Sans said, "How about you and me start our own Guard? Like, a Special Secret Guard in charge of keeping the human safe. You can be captain!"

"Really?!" Papyrus's whole face lit up. Sans grinned, relieved.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't wanna be in charge; too much responsibility."

"Very well. I, The Great Papyrus, will step up to the task! The Secret Guard shall defend the human with utmost valor! We shall never give up our sacred mission!" He turned back to his spaghetti pot and began stirring with renewed ferocity.

"Heh, yeah."

This was nice. Sans wondered how long it would last.

The fight was over. The human lasted way longer than Undyne expected, but it didn't last long. Now, as she stood on the rocks and caught her breath, she stared down at her prize, the answer to everyone's prayers: A little red soul, floating over a little red corpse.

Alphys once told her humans had a lot of determination, but this one hadn't seemed determined to her. More like scared. Whatever. It didn't matter. That soul was gonna break the barrier, "determined" or not.

Ring-ring!

Her heart stopped and she jumped about ten feet in the air.

Then she felt stupid.

It was just a phone ringing. Not hers: Her ringtone was set to the theme song of the series of human history videos she and Alphys were currently working their way through. It had to be the human's phone.

The phone vibrated so hard as it continued to ring, it crawled right out of the human's pocket and onto the ground. It was freaking ancient. Did it even have texting? Wait, why was that what she was wondering? The way more important question here was: Who the hell was calling a human in the Underground?

She bent and picked up the phone, turning it over to look at the screen. The caller ID read: THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOUR VERY COOL FRIEND!

…what?

Papyrus had put his number in the human's phone. And now he was calling it. Why? When he made his report, she got the impression he felt sorry for the human, but he'd actually gone so far as to make friends with it? What was he thinking? Didn't he understand she had to…

Without really thinking about it, she flipped the phone open—seriously, this thing belonged in a museum—and thumbed the answer button.

"Hey!" Papyrus's voice chirped from the speaker, "What's up?! I was just thinking…"

The silence on her end of the line didn't faze him one bit. Eh, fair enough: The human hadn't seemed very talkative, and you could always count on Papyrus to fill any gaps in a conversation.

"You, me, and Undyne should all hang out sometime!"

Really, Papyrus?

"I think you would make great pals!"

Think again.

"Let's meet up at her house later!" Click.

It was kind of funny, right? But Undyne wasn't laughing. When she got home, Papyrus would be there waiting for her. He'd be waiting for the human too. Someone would have to explain to him what happened to his new friend. Explain to him, a guy who couldn't get to sleep at night unless his big brother read him Peek-a-Boo with Fluffy Bunny first. And someone would have to explain that she was the one who did it.

The phone felt like a lead weight in her hand, and, after a few seconds, it tumbled from her numb fingers.

The floating soul before her didn't look so red anymore; it was fading slowly, turning transparent. Did human souls evaporate or something? If she didn't catch it soon, it might disappear.

She took out the tiny glass jar Asgore had given her and scooped up the soul, then closed the lid nice and tight. When she explained it all to Papyrus, she'd at least be able to say his friend didn't die in vain.

As she tucked the jar away and started walking toward the castle, her armor felt heavy enough to crush her.

When she told him, she'd let him take a swing at her, if that made him feel better. Yeah. That was the right thing to do.

…nah, that wasn't his style. He'd probably want to forgive her instead.

God, that'd be so much worse.

When Alphys finally pried the door open, the smell was the first thing she noticed: Ozone, melted plastic, and burnt wires. Oh no.

"Mettaton!" She ran to the scorch-marked center of the room, where the wreckage was. He looked bad: Face melted halfway off his metal skull, hair charred, torso heat-warped, and stray sparks crawling over his jittering arms and legs. He must've had a massive power surge, taken a charge too big for his wiring to handle. But how…?

She tore her eyes from his wrecked chassis long enough to spot what was left of the human. Oh.

"Mettaton, you… you tried t-to absorb their soul, didn't you?"

"I-I-I-I-I-I…" His voicebox was malfunctioning, too damaged to answer her. He lapsed into silence, staring glassily up at her like a broken doll.

"Do you know h-how hard it was to make your body s-sturdy enough to hold your soul without melting? If I w-was gonna build something to absorb a human soul, I, I'd build a tank! A tank as big as a house!"

Alphys sank to the floor, trembling.

"B-but that's not what you wanted to be. You w-w-wanted…" Her voice caught in her throat. He'd wanted this, but not this. He'd wanted something shiny and pretty and human-shaped and that was it, but she'd wanted to impress King Asgore and added all those anti-human combat features Mettaton didn't want, and now… And now he'd gone and used them. If she'd just built him the way he wanted, would the human still be alive?

"…fiiiissss…?"

Alphys jumped at the sound of Mettaton's broken voice.

"Wh-what?" she squeaked.

One of his arms rose from the floor, wobbling and snapping back and forth like a downed power line. Laboriously, he pointed a finger at her.

"C-c-c-c-can fffffffix?"

Alphys shuddered. His distorted voice reminded her of the amalgamates in her lab.

"I-I think I could repair some of this damage, but most of you I'd just have to rebuild, if that would even be worth it…"

"Aaaah?"

"Y-you were broadcasting, right? E-everyone in the whole Underground either made friends with the human or wanted Asgore to take their soul, a-and now everyone knows you killed them. I mean, e-even if some of your fans really did want you to t-take the soul yourself, you… didn't. Do y-you want people to be able to recognize you right now?"

He couldn't answer. He couldn't even frown, with his face like that. Alphys could tell it was all starting to sink in, though; she saw it in his eye. The good one. The laser one had melted shut.

"I guess we should get you, get you back to the lab," she murmured, "And then I'll d-do what I can, I guess…"

Her eyes watered as she shakily stood. She knew she should be mad at Mettaton—he murdered a child—but right now she could only wonder what would become of his ruined body, this devastated vessel he'd once loved enough to corporealize in. She couldn't help but picture him sitting in her secret basement lab forever, another exhibit in the menagerie of misery and shame that lived there. One more horror to hide from the world. One more monster she'd let down.

The child was dead, and their soul floated above their broken body, bobbing gently up and down, just like the other six souls inside their magic glass jars.

The time had come. This was the moment, when he would finally absorb all seven souls, become a god, and fulfill the promise he'd made all those years ago.

Asgore couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. Instead he fell to his knees, weighed down by the task ahead. His vision blurred with tears, making the lifeless body on the floor look all the more like Chara's.

He was so overcome with guilt and grief, he didn't notice the six vines snaking out of the ground to wrap around the six soul-holding jars. By the time he looked up, it was too late; each jar was broken and empty.

"No," he whispered. After all he'd done, the innocents he'd killed, how could he let their poor souls be wasted on…

Something huge and hideous was sprouting up out of the ground, and a new vine reached for the last soul.

But Asgore got there first.

He gave no thought to what absorbing the soul would do to him, what he'd become. He only knew that after failing the other six children so thoroughly, he must do everything he could to protect the last from that… thing. When he took in the child's soul, the surge of power was overwhelming, and yet it was nothing compared to the sudden flood of another's consciousness washing over his own. He felt it all: The fear and pain the child had felt upon death, the love they held for those they'd encountered on their journey, their despair over finding no peaceful solution to the conflict he forced upon them.

He felt them looking out through his eyes at the gargantuan creature descending upon him. It seemed to pervert reality around it, and he wondered if the terror freezing his heart belonged to the child or him or both. Then, he felt something new. A feeling he hadn't felt for a long time, and never with such intensity.

Asgore stood alone—and yet not alone—in the darkness. Hundreds of feet above his head, a massive screen flickered to life. It displayed a crudely-drawn facsimile of a grinning face, and, though he couldn't imagine why, Asgore found himself thinking there was something hauntingly familiar about that smile.

As it cackled, the strange, sickly glow of the screen filled the room. An eerie parody of twilight was shining down upon him. It seemed his journey had only just begun.

He was filled with determination.