Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chara awakes from a dream to small hands clawing at their clothes and lightly smacking at their cheeks. Even as they groan, the attack doesn’t stop until they open their eyes. Even though their vision is blurred, Chara can clearly tell that Frisk is the awful one that woke them up.

Chara rolls over and buries their face in their pillow. They’re still tired. As soon as they close their eyes, Frisk goes back on the attack, pulling at Chara’s pajamas and their hair. Short, sharp pains that come from the hair pulling motivate Chara enough to try and bat Frisk’s stupid baby hands away. It doesn’t work.

Chara rolls over and gives Frisk the eye contact they must be wanting. “What do you want.”

Frisk’s tongue hangs just out of their mouth, and they make a noise that’s clearly meant to be a meow.

“That doesn’t explain anything,” Chara says, propping their head up with their hand.

Frisk huffs, then wiggles forward, so that their own face is close to Chara’s. It’s nothing Chara isn’t used to by now.

Finally, Frisk whispers, “breakfast.”

Chara hums. They hum for a while, until even they aren’t sure whether they’re actually considering it or if it’s just for the dramatic flair.

“No,” Chara says, “I don’t particularly feel like getting up right now.”

Chara knows that there’s a very low chance that Frisk will give up on their assault, but they roll over anyway, burying themself in soft bedding and the too-many pillows they’d horded on their bed.

Frisk growls and grabs at a Chara’s pajamas, trying to drag them out of bed.

“Did you not hear me?” Despite being dragged from the safety of their bed, Chara only spares a bored glance at Frisk. “I said I don’t want to get up right now.”

Frisk persists. What Chara doesn’t expect is for a Frisk to make a sudden pull so hard that Chara actually falls off their bed and onto the floor with a loud thump. Before Chara can register what’s happened, Frisk scampers away, feet making a light, quick scratching sound against the floor.

“Frisk!” Chara yelps.

They slam their hands against the ground, push themself up, and are in hot pursuit.

They sprint out of their room - shared between themself, Asriel and Frisk - and down the hall, Frisk giggling all the way. The house is a nice warm, and Chara can smell breakfast, but that doesn’t deter them from the chase.

Wood creaking under their bare feet, Chara chases Frisk into the kitchen, where Toriel is waiting. Hiding behind mom, huh? Toriel, instead of giving Frisk up like she should, stays a willing barrier between Chara and the bastard.

Smells like pancakes. Toriel manages to keep both an eye on the pancakes and an eye on

“Mom-,” Chara starts.

“They did what I asked of them. There’s no need to fight.” There’s a teasing tone to Toriel’s voice as she reaches down to pat Frisk’s head.

“They woke me up,” Chara groans, though they step away, giving up the chase.

“However else would you be able to eat your breakfast?”

“Consumption via putting the pancake in my mouth while I’m asleep. You should try it.”

“My child, you’d choke.”

“It would be worth it.”

Toriel snorts with amusement. Chara’s tone is light and playful, so there’s no need for worry. Even Frisk allows a grin to spread on their face, decorating their chubby cheeks.

Toriel waves a paw in dismissal. “Go and sit at the table. Your siblings have already gathered there like good children.”

“You always say we need to sleep more. Are you saying that me sleeping makes me not a good child?”

“Do not sass me.”

With a final grin directed at Toriel, Chara turns on their heels and heads towards the living room; the dining table is there. Just before they make it out of the kitchen Frisk has the audacity to dart in front of them, just for the sake of getting out first.

Chara doesn’t pursue Frisk this time. If Toriel sees, Chara might get reprimanded for running inside, even if they’d been running just before.

Turning into the living room, Chara can hear loud talking. It’s undoubtedly from Asriel, and as the dining table comes into view, Chara can see him brandishing a dull knife, talking about some dream he had.

The dining table is long, able to seat more than what their family needs. Even with the extra seats, sitting arrangements always seem to be the same. Frisk perches on their own seat (Chara’s never seen them sit normally), Asriel next to them, Chara next to Asriel, and Ralsei across from Frisk. Toriel always sits at the end of the table.

...And Kris on the other end.

Asriel’s eyes light up as he sees Chara. Frisk sticks their tongue out at Chara from their seat, but Chara decides to focus on Asriel instead.

“Frisk told me that you were sleepy,” Asriel teases, pushing Chara’s seat out for them.

Ralsei, face full of concern, beats Chara to a response, “did you not get enough sleep?”

Ralsei’s one of the youngest ones of the family, just a year or so younger than Asriel. His pink horns shine in the light as he speaks.

“It’s not the amount of sleep that makes me tired. It’s the wake-up call that makes me tired,” Chara says, dramatically glaring at Frisk.

“Deserved it,” Frisk retorts. “Mom said.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to drag me out of bed.”

“Does so.”

Asriel’s chuckles cut through the argument, all bubbly and wheezy. Ralsei’s own quiet giggling follows. They’re easy to entertain. Chara watches as Asriel’s shoulders shake, his white paws clutching at the table. Their gaze slides from Asriel, to Ralsei, to…

Oh.

Chara had almost forgotten about Kris.

Kris is completely silent, one eye hidden under what Chara had dubbed an emo fringe (never to Kris’ face), the other eye shadowed by their hair. Kris hadn’t said a word. Good riddance, Chara thinks.

Kris is the newest addition to the family, adopted by Toriel. They’re the same age as Ralsei, but manage to be taller than Chara, which doesn’t do much to ease their nerves. Frisk had tried being nice to them, at the start, but Kris made no effort to get involved. Ralsei’s the only one that tries to include them in anything.

It’s like Kris is disconnected. Dissociated from the family. Even if they talk to Toriel. Chara decided that they didn’t like Kris the second day Kris had been in the house.

Kris makes eye contact through their one uncovered eye, and though it sends a shiver down Chara’s spine, they keep that eye contact. Kris looks bored, almost, with their mouth pressed into a thin line and their eye narrowed just that little bit.

Needless to say, when Toriel announces her presence along with the pancakes, Chara’s relieved. They relax, even though they had no idea they were tense in the first place.

Frisk rocks in their chair, excited, as the pancakes arrive. The smell makes Chara’s mouth water, even after ages of knowing Toriel’s food. Never gets old. The plates clack against the table as they’re placed, pancakes looking as soft as clouds.

Chara snatches the syrup as soon as Toriel delivers it, ignoring a protest from Frisk.

“Aww, come on, Chara, don’t use all the syrup again,” Asriel whines.

Chara starts pouring all that golden sweetness onto their food. “I won’t.” The promise means nothing. They’ve done this routine enough.

Toriel raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t tell Chara to put the syrup down, so that means Chara has free reign over the syrup unless someone fights them for it. From the looks of it, nobody will. Kris is already eating, and Frisk doesn’t like getting their fingers sticky. Asriel won’t fight Chara, and neither will Ralsei.

“I think you’re going to drown the pancake,” Ralsei says.

“Then so be it.” Chara deepens their voice to sound dramatic.

Breakfast runs smoothly. Ralsei, through a full mouth, rambles about a story idea he has. Asriel, also through a full mouth, gets excited over Ralsei’s idea. Frisk, also with a full mouth, makes noises to seem like they’re in the conversation. Try as she might, Toriel can’t get them to stop talking with their mouths open.

It’s routine.

Everyone finishes up and you wash your hands to free them of the stickiness that came with syrup. Routine continues as Kris leaves, almost definitely to their room (shared with Ralsei), and Asriel drags Frisk over to the TV.

The routine is broken as Toriel pulls Chara aside, taking away free time in order to start what Chara thinks must be a scolding. They’re pulled into Toriel’s own room, so the other kids won’t be able to hear. Chara opts to defend themself immediately.

“Whatever it is you think I did, I didn’t do it,” Chara huffs.

Toriel blinks… Surprised? Chara raises an eyebrow from the lack of scolding.

“My child,” Toriel says slowly, “you have not done anything wrong.” Her eyes narrow and her gaze averts from a Chara. “This time.”

“Alright. So why did you pull me aside? Please don’t say we’re investigating your snails, Mom.”

“Ha ha. No. I just have a favor to ask of you.”

Chara leans forward, interest piqued.

“You think that Kris has not been fitting in well, do you not?” Toriel asks.

Chara’s silence says all that Toriel needs to know.

She hums, hands on her hips. “You should take Kris out today, as a little push. Perhaps go get some hot chocolate.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“It’s not like they try to fit in. They don’t need a little push.”

Toriel’s eyes narrow, and Chara raises their hands innocently. Okay, they get the point. Without leaving time for her to say another word, Chara heads to Kris’ room. Not without frustration curling in their stomach, though.

The door to their room is decorated in colorful, drawn stickers made by Ralsei. It’s mostly doodles of himself, that everyone agreed was adorable ages ago. Chara pushes the door open and it squeaks as it moves, making them wince the tiniest bit.

Kris is laying on their bed, tossing a ball of what seems to be trash from one hand to the other. Their uncovered eye slides towards Chara as they entered, almost half-lidded. Chara has to muster up a bit of courage before they can speak.

“I’m extending an invitation for you to join me on a trip to get hot chocolate,” Chara’s voice turns firmer on pure instinct, “though if you’d rather stay, I won’t mind.”

The ball of trash comes to a stop in Kris’ hand as they consider it. When they answer, their voice is off. Rusty. Like it hasn’t been used in a while, or as much as it should be.

“Sure. I’ll go.”

Chapter Text

“So, do you like chocolate?”

“...Yes.”

“Have you had hot chocolate before?”

“No.”

“Have you been to Grillby’s before?”

“No.”

“Are you just going to keep answering with yes or no.”

“Yes.”

Chara frowns, turning away from Kris. If they’re having trouble speaking because they’re outside, then they can just use sign language. Toriel made it very clear to Kris that everyone in the family knows sign language. That way they could have a conversation that isn’t overwhelmingly frustrating.

Birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and Chara’s decided that if Kris isn’t going to make an effort to converse, then they aren’t going to try to make conversation. It’s as simple as that. Chara’d much rather focus on reciprocating the friendly waves from neighbour monsters and making comments to themself about what kind of -dere certain flowers are. Or what kind of Hogwarts house they’d fit into. Nonsense like that is much more entertaining than trying to make conversation.

A soft breeze caresses Chara’s face as they walk, accompanied by the soft rustling of tree leaves.

“Nature’s very own wind chime,” Chara comments.

Kris shoots them a look. It’s probably a look of question, though Chara’s having trouble telling.

“Nevermind,” Chara dismisses, waving their hand not unlike the way Toriel does.

Cars provide satisfactory background noise on the walk to Grillby’s. On the days where the town is quiet, it’s scary. But Chara doesn’t have to worry about that right now.

Kris walks with their hands in their pockets, face emotionless as usual. Ugh. Chara just wants to get this over and done with so they can get back home and play with Asriel.

“This way,” Chara instructs, making a left on the footpath.

Kris follows without complaint. Grillby’s is just up ahead, and with the sight of it comes the smell of it, carried over by the wind. It smells of alcohol and chips with a hint of smoke.

“Grillby does not speak,” Chara says as they approach it, “but he does not use sign language. One of the bird men translates for him. Don’t question it.”

Kris hums in acknowledgement.

The door opens with a little chime and a familiar warmness. Grillby’s always manages to have an aura of safety. The arrival of the children draws attention from the monsters inside, but their arrival is taken with smiles and coos and mentions of ‘that’s Asgore’s kid’, as it’s always been with Chara.

The familiarity of all of this gives Chara enough confidence to raise their voice. “Alright, everybody out of the way. I have got a head full of drowsiness, an errand for Mom, and a kid that’s never had hot chocolate before.”

Chara’s antics draw chuckles from the regulars.

Kris hesitates, and when Chara turns back to them, they look wary. The most emotion Chara’d seen out of them by far.

“Come on, scaredy-cat.” Chara sounds more annoyed than anything, grabbing their sleeve and pulling them up to the counter.

Chara pulls themself onto a stool and pats the one next to them to encourage Kris to do the same. Kris spares a glance at the obviously drunk bird monster on the stool next to theirs, but obeys anyway.

“You have never had hot chocolate before at all. Right?” Chara asks.

Kris nods.

“I pity you.” There’s some truth in that.

After just a moment of waiting, Grillby finishes serving someone else and greets the kids with a wave, then leans on the counter in front of him to show that he’s listening.

“Two hot chocolates.” Chara pauses. “Please.”

Grillby nods, moving to go make the two drinks. Kris taps Chara’s shoulder to get their attention, and Chara gives them the wanted attention, trying not to let their annoyance show.

Kris fumbles with their hands for a moment, trying to sign something. Chara’s frustration grows as Kris starts, then stops, then starts again.

It looks like Kris gives up on trying to sign a sentence and just signs letters. They sign ‘B-A-R’, then tilt their head to show that it’s some kind of question.

“...You’re wondering why there is a hot chocolate option in a bar,” Chara guesses.

Kris nods.

“When I was little, I used to show up every day and ask for a hot chocolate. Other people started to join in for asking for coffee, mochas, and other drinks akin to them. Grillby took the requests to heart.”

Kris seems satisfied with the answer, and leans their chin on their hand while they wait for Grillby.

The hot chocolate arrives so warmly that Chara can feel its heat just by waving a hand over it. They pass the money to Grillby with a smile, and immediately sip from the cup.

The drink is sweet, almost overwhelmingly so, but that’s the way Chara likes it. The glee that comes with tasting the drink is quickly diminished when a noise of pain from Kris fills the air.

Chara turns to see them batting at their mouth, and realises quickly at what’s happened.

“You don’t just start drinking straight away,” Chara hisses, “you have to wait until it cools. Have you never had a hot drink before?”

Kris one, uncovered brown eye almost looks like it’s filled with tears as they look at Chara, pointing to them, then their drink.

“I like drinks hot. I am used to it.” Filled to the brim with frustration, Chara turns away, tapping on the counter to try and calm themself down.

They can’t help but be frustrated at Kris. They’re too hard to talk to. Too different.

At least Chara gets hot chocolate out of this.

When Chara finishes their drink, Kris has barely gotten halfway through their own, sipping tentatively as to avoid more pain. Chara just wants to be over and done with. They can at least say they tried. Kris isn’t making any of this easy for them.

Grillby comes back to see if Chara wants anything else, but they wave him away. They only had enough money for the two drinks. Maybe they should’ve asked Toriel for more.

Even though Chara doesn’t feel like starting up more conversation, they at least try to make Kris drink faster.

“Blow on it,” Chara advices, “seriously, it looks like you have never had a hot drink before.”

Kris pauses, and Chara blows on their drink gently to demonstrate. To Chara’s surprise, Kris mimics what they’ve done, blowing on their drink the same way Chara had. Good. Maybe they’ll get out of here faster.

The blowing works, and Kris drinks faster. The moment they finish, Chara slides off their stool, they inform Kris that Grillby takes care of the cups and, after making sure that Kris is following, walks quickly out of Grillby’s.

Kris jogs to keep up.

“We have to get home quickly. Mom will be wondering what took us so long,” Chara huffs.

Chara barely looks at Kris on the way home. Even the sweetness of the hot chocolate cannot help with their frustration.

Chapter Text

“Frisk! Frisk, watch!”

Frisk rolls over onto their back, watching as Asriel balances with one foot on a ball, arms out like a plane. The sight draws a giggle from Frisk’s chest, bubbling out of their mouth like the start of a bubble bath.

“Are you watching?” Asriel wobbles on the ball, focus all across his face, “I’m- woah!”

One second Frisk’s brother is carefully balancing on the ball, the next second the ball’s gone flying and he’s on the ground, accompanied by a small thump. Despite the fall, Asriel’s shoulders shake with laughter.

“Frisk-“ he giggles, “Frisk, your turn!”

The smile that plagues Frisk’s cheeks almost hurts, but they can’t help it! They scramble for the ball, behind the television, but before they can do some awesome balancing practice, there’s an anxious voice at the door to the room.

“I heard a thump. Is everyone okay?”

Frisk was expecting Mom, coming to tell them off, but very luckily, it’s just Ralsei, fiddling with his glasses.

“We’re just having fun,” Asriel says, propping himself up on his elbows. “Look!”

He gestures to Frisk, who puts a foot on the ball and tries to balance on it. It’s more fun than it looks! Though Frisk wobbles, they manage to balance on the ball. Peak ninja skills. All those ninjas in the anime that Chara watches should take notes.

Ralsei watches Frisk, blinking. “...That’s kind of silly.”

“It’s fun!” Frisk squeaks, giggling.

Ralsei kneels near the ball, watching with amusement as Frisk’s arms flail to help with their balance. Asriel watches on his stomach, only occasionally making sure that Frisk’s being careful.

Ralsei asks, “can I have a turn?”

Frisk nods; they’re close to losing their balance anyway. Their sibling jumps up eagerly as Asriel watches, grinning as he tentatively puts a foot on the ball as Frisk hops off of it. Ralsei balances on the ball, putting his arms out to balance, and-

Falls.

The ball, now airborne, bounces against the wall and almost hits Asriel. The thump of the plaything against the wall is loud enough to make the goat boy jolt and makes Frisk cover their ears.

Ralsei lands, face down, on the wooden floor. Frisk can see that his eyes are all scrunched up, and he’s muttering something that Frisk quickly recognizes as apologies.

Asriel gets his paws on the ball and Frisk offers a hand to Ralsei, who’s still apologizing even as Frisk pulls him up, rubbing his probably snore snout. Yowch!

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Asriel says, putting on a smile for Ralsei’s sake.

“I’m sorry!” Ralsei whines.

Frisk gives Ralsei an awkward pat on the shoulder as comfort. Hopefully Toriel didn’t hear that.

All three kids freeze when there’s audible, approaching footsteps. Ohh, they must be in trouble, right? Frisk starts mentally preparing themself for a lecture, probably on how they should’ve been more careful.

Toriel comes into sight, and all three kids look like deer caught in a spotlight. If she didn’t hear the noise, their expressions are probably going to tip them off. She raises an eyebrow at them, all wide-eyed.

To Frisk’s surprise, the lecture never comes.

“Now, my children, I need to go and discuss something with Alphys.” The signature narrow of her eyes comes next. “I trust you can keep yourselves out of trouble?”

“Yes, Mom,” Asriel chirps.

Frisk gives Toriel a thumbs up. While the lack of lecture comes as a surprise, Toriel leaving gives the kids an opportunity for mischief.

A soft smile grows on Toriel’s face, and she waves to the children as she departs.

As the sound of the door closing echoes through the house, Frisk sits in silence.

“So...what now?” Asriel says.

“Is there anything good on the television right now?”

“No.”

Frisk hums as the two brainstorm. They could pull some mischief, but they have no ideas! There’s no pie out to eat, there’s no other food to steal…

“What do you think she’s talking to Alphys about?” Asriel asks.

Frisk huffs. “Boring stuff.”

After that, everything falls into an awkward silence. Frisk doesn’t want to get back on the ball again, and they doubt Ralsei does. Asriel’s not moving, so he must not, either.

Frisk lays on their back, rolling side-to-side slowly, until Ralsei speaks up.

“Um...I had an idea for a story I’d like to write,” he says, “would you like to hear?”

Frisk raises their hand to the ceiling in a thumbs up. Ralsei’s stories are normally pretty good; he’s a solid storyteller! Frisk has trouble staying focused on them, though. Asriel gives Ralsei his own words of encouragement.

“I thought it would be a cool idea for two kids, heroes, to fall into some magical land,” Ralsei hums, “they have trouble following their destiny, but heroes always make it in the end!”

He pauses. “It’s...a lot more exciting than it sounds. Really.”

“It sounds cool!” Asriel says.

“I got the idea in a dream,” Ralsei explains, “it was like Alice In Wonderland. But different.”

Everyone drifts into silence again, and Frisk goes back to rolling. They can’t sit still when there’s both silence and nothing to do.

“...Maybe I could bake a cake,” Ralsei suggests. “A small one, so we can eat it before Mom gets back.”

“I don’t know. Mom might notice some stuff’s missing. Maybe we should-“ A knock on the door interrupts Asriel’s sentence, startling Ralsei.

Must be a Chara. Frisk scrambles onto their feet and over to the door, hesitating with their hand on the door knob until the knocks come again.

Frisk cracks open the door just enough that they can see outside. Chara’s there, arms crossed, while Kris stands behind them, looking...intimidating. But nevermind that. Frisk makes a point of staring at a Chara.

“Password,” Frisk demands.

“Really?”

“Password!”

Chara’s eyes narrow. “Frisk sucks. That’s the password.”

“Incorrect!”

“The password is password, then.”

Frisk hums for a moment. Yeah, okay, acceptable. They push the door wide open, allowing a Chara to slink in. Frisk waves to Kris as they walk past, but there’s no acknowledgement. Maybe they just didn’t see? Their fringe does cover one of their eyes.

Asriel greets Chara with a smile and a hug. They reciprocate by awkwardly patting his back. Frisk shuts the door and joins the hug. Makes it more awkward, but
Frisk doesn’t really care.

Chara wiggles out of the hug. “Where’s Mom?”

“Oh, she left to go and talk to Alphys,” Ralsei explains.

Chara mutters something that Frisk doesn’t hear, and Kris walks past the group. Ralsei reaches towards them.

“Kris, we made up a game where you balance on a ball, I thought maybe you’d like to-“ Ralsei starts.

Kris completely ignores him, and the only answer he gets is the sound of the door to their shared room.

Ralsei visibly droops, “oh.”

Asriel puts a hand on his shoulder.

“...What’s that about a ball?” Chara asks.

Chapter Text

The change of routine may have messed up Chara’s groove, but the rest of the day goes smoothly enough that they’re able to forgive it. The rest of the day turns into quiet time with their siblings while they wait for Toriel to get back, playing video games and trying to balance on a ball.

Ralsei is scarily good at RPG games, and Chara watches him as he plays Pokèmon on his 3DS, absolutely destroying his enemies with well-trained Pokèmon. Frisk is spending their time rolling around on the floor, and Asriel is also playing Pokèmon.

Chara sits next to Ralsei on the couch, close but not too close, shoulders just barely touching as Chara stares at the screen.

“Just how do you get so good?” Chara murmurs.

“I spend a lot of time training them,” Ralsei admits, a little sheepishly, “...maybe a bit too much time. It takes hours before I try the next big battle.”

Chara hums. A formidable strategy. Taking time but ensuring your own Pokèmon are levels higher than the opponent.

It’s nice, the only sound being the clicking of buttons and the sliding of Frisk against the floor. It’s therapeutic, almost, Chara thinks.

The quiet is quickly destroyed by a sudden shriek from Asriel.

“Guys!”

Frisk rolls onto their stomach and crawls over to Asriel, gasping as their brown eyes gaze at his screen.

“What is it?” Chara doesn’t really feel like moving from their spot.

“A shiny!” Asriel’s practically vibrating with excitement, and manages to get his voice under control.

Ralsei gasps, dropping his 3DS on the couch to go and investigate. Chara follows along, interest officially piqued. On Asriel’s screen is a pink Loudred, facing off against Asriel’s Raichu.

“Catch it,” Chara says.

“I mean, golly, what else would I do with it?” Asriel’s eyes stay fixed on the screen.

The excitement from the Pokèmon pulls everyone’s focus in as Asriel tries, desperately, to catch it. All the attention being on the game makes it so that none of them notice the door open.

As the excitement grows, so does the noise level, but Chara doesn’t mind. They don’t notice the footsteps, don’t notice the shadow over them, and don’t notice Toriel until she speaks.

“Having fun?”

Chara whips around at the voice, almost startled. Almost. Toriel carries nothing but a fond smile, seeing her children having fun.

“Yes, Mom,” Chara says.

Frisk waves at Toriel, who gives her own wave back.

“I trust that you did not get into trouble?” Toriel asks.

“No, everything was fine,” Ralsei says, a little too quickly. “I was wondering if I could bake a cake? I didn’t want to make one without permission.”

Toriel hums, considering it. “...How about I make a pie instead? As a reward for not making trouble.”

Chara grins, and Asriel claps, which is a certain yes. Maybe this day isn’t so bad after all. Just as Chara turns to start watching Asriel’s game, however, Toriel waves them over.

Hoping that it’s not something bad, Chara (much to their disappointment) stops watching Asriel’s game to go over to Toriel, who’s started getting the kitchen ready.

The clink and clash of kitchen tools fills Chara’s ears as they approach, but it’s a nice, quiet background noise.

“How was your walk?” Toriel asks.

Chara hums with faux consideration. They pretend that the answer doesn’t come to them as easily as it does. “Mediocre.”

Toriel pauses with a sigh. “...Can you do something, my child? Can you get Kris for me?”

Chara has to work to suppress a groan. Really? Why is it always them that has to interact with Kris? “Can you not get them yourself?”

“I’m cleaning the kitchen to bake a pie. Surely it is not that hard to get them? I need to talk to them.”

With a dramatic sigh, Chara turns to do as asked, stalking down the hallway with deliberately heavy steps. Fine. Might as well just get it over and done with.

Chara considers kicking the door open, but that would definitely warrant a lecture. They do, however, push open the door to Kris’ and Ralsei’s room so quickly that the door nearly hits the wall.

Chara can’t help but feel satisfied when Kris looks startled for a moment. The satisfaction quickly turns into a weird guilt.

“Mom wants you,” Chara says.

Kris stares at Chara for a moment, and Chara stares back. Kris’ ball of trash is resting on their stomach.

Chara scoffs. “Has nobody told you that it is kind of gross? Your ball?”

Kris doesn’t speak, but puts a hand over the ball, almost protectively. It’s such a weird thing to get attached to.

“Does Mom even know you have it?”

They shake their head after a moment of hesitation. Chara holds their head up higher, looking down on them.

“Give it. It would be best to make sure that Mom knows you have it. Nobody would want you to get in trouble for it, would they?”

Kris’ answer comes quickly. “No.” Judging from how they’re now holding the ball of trash, they’re saying no to giving it over.

“Come on-,” Chara stalks over, “-give it to me.”

“I said no-“

The guilt that comes with Chara’s intentions is quickly swept away by Chara’s pure frustration at Kris. They lunge forward, grabbing at the ball of trash and wincing at the texture of it, stuck together with glue.

Kris makes a distressed noise, and though they try to get the ball back, Chara’s already won, holding the prize in the air as victory while they walk away.

When Kris’ surprise is over, something in them snaps.

Chara’s knocked over, falling face-first onto the ground, and suddenly the kids are tussling, fighting over something that shouldn’t even have mattered in the first place. Kris is surprisingly rough, and something in Chara changes, as well.

Chara’s vision goes blurry and they thrash around, trying to escape while keeping their grip on the ball. All they can see is flashes of Kris, then the brown of the walls, then the black and white of… something… and then-

The ball goes flying from Chara’s hands, away from Kris’s desperate reach, and into the wall. It sticks to the wall for a second (gross), then slides down with a sickening slowness.

Chara and Kris freeze. One of Kris’ hands has a firm grasp on Chara’s collar, one knee on the older kid’s stomach and the other on the floor. Both of Chara’s hands are frozen from the loss of the ball, eyes wide.

The ball loses its grip on the wall and falls to the floor. It crumbles. There’s a tiny sound, maybe from Kris, or maybe Chara just imagined it.

Chara uses the opportunity to scramble away from Kris, dusting themself as they stand up. They do their best to give Kris a look of apathy, not that they’ll notice, staring at the pieces of trash like Chara’s eaten their flowers.

They look bitter.

“Remember that Mom wants you,” Chara says stiffly. As soon as they finish the sentence, they’re out of that wretched room.

They take quick, long steps, speeding back to the living room. If they’re lucky, Asriel or Ralsei’s games will still bring entertainment.

Before they can go back to watching their siblings play Pokèmon, Toriel stops Chara.

“I told Kris that you want them,” Chara says, before Toriel can say anything.

They walk away from Toriel before she can say anything else. Chara did what was required. They don’t have to stay. Pokèmon beckons.

Speaking of which.

As soon as Chara steps into the living room, Asriel greets them with the news that he’s successfully caught the shiny Pokèmon, to which Chara feigns excitement for. The small fight with Kris has sapped them of most of their energy.

Ralsei seems to be the only one that notices the energy change.

Chara takes a spot next to him on the couch, falling back into routine. Kris is just a hiccup. Just a bump. Chara can get over it.

Chapter Text

Kris lets the days flow by. Lets time slip away without confrontation. They want to be mad at their only possession being broken, but they force themself into deep, harmless apathy, and let time fly by.

The days all go by quickly in the end. No matter how long they feel, by the next day, it will have felt short. In Kris’ experience, anyway. When two days pass, the ball of trash doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe it never did in the first place.

They eat. They sleep. They clean. Their shelves stay barren and they comply with rules. It’s always been like this.

The routine is changed when Toriel enters their room, three days after their ball was rendered useless. She speaks with a soft smile on her face and kindness in her eyes, something that Kris is still getting used to.

Silently, Kris slides off their bed as Toriel instructs, holding onto her outstretched hand as she leads them through the house. They pay no mind to Ralsei’s goodbye, and they pretend not to see Chara’s glance.

Toriel comments on what a beautiful day it is. Kris almost doesn’t hear her, but they can agree. The air is lukewarm, flowers still carrying the dew from the night. The ground is a nice kind of damp.

Toriel leads Kris to her car, a bright red vehicle with small screens on the back of the seats for long trips. Kris climbs into the front seat. Normally, Chara would be the one to take the front seat, but without them here, the luxury is reserved for Kris.

When Toriel starts the car, the vibrations are a comfort to Kris. They rest their head on the window and watch as the house goes out of view and the colors of everything outside the car start to blur. It’s like everything inside the car is a different dimension; a bubble.

“You remember where we are going, correct?” Toriel asks.

Kris closes their eyes. “Yes.”

Even with the confirmation, Toriel continues. “Alphys and I thought it would be best to have some kids come together. The town is new, after all. Many children are moving in with their families. As a newer child yourself, maybe you will be able to make some friends.”

There’s a hopeful tone in her voice, even though Kris has doubts. Really they only agreed to go because Toriel asked.

“Do not go to sleep before we get there,” Toriel chuckles.

“I won’t.” Kris’ tone suggests they just might.

Kris doesn’t know how long the rest of the ride lasts. It might have been eternity, or it might have been a second. When the car stops, Kris can only really remember the start of the trip and the few conversations Toriel tried to make in the car.

Groggy from being close to sleep the entire ride, Kris’ head wobbles as they lift it away from the window, rubbing their eyes to properly view their surroundings. Even through their blurred vision, they can see a building. Large, almost intimidating.

When one of the car doors clicks as it opens, Kris realises they’ve been staring. Rubbing their eyes again, they open the door on their side and slide out of the car, breeze colder than before.

“Are you alright, Kris? You look like you have just woken up!” Toriel’s laugh is rough, maybe surprisingly so for people that don’t know her.

Kris gives Toriel their own half hearted laugh.

Toriel takes Kris’ hand once again to lead them inside the building. It looks like a school. Maybe it is. Kris only remembers half of the details that Toriel gave them. Toriel and Alphys both work at a school, though, so it does make sense that they’d do it at a school, right?

Kris doesn’t think on it for too long.

When they get inside, Kris sees that it’s definitely a school. The hallways are lined with lockers, and there are anti-bullying posters everywhere. The wooden floor creaks quietly, and Kris thinks they can hear faint talking nearby.

Toriel hums quietly, an almost comforting sound. She turns into a hallway, pulling Kris with her. That’s definitely talking. They’re going towards it.

They must be using one of the classrooms for this meetup thing. Toriel squeezes Kris’ hand. Her claws are a little sharp, but Kris doesn’t mind. They know it’s suppose to be a comforting gesture.

It’s clear where the noise is coming from, now. There’s a door to what must be a classroom at the end of the hallway, which is what much be the source of the noise.

As they near the door, Toriel’s hand pulls away from Kris’. She pats them on the shoulder, and pushes the door open.

Kris peeks inside. There are monster kids, all of different sizes and (presumably) ages. It’s almost overwhelming.

It doesn’t get any better when the sound of the door brings everyone’s attention to Kris. Suddenly, Kris is very, very aware that not all the looks are friendly.

Toriel pulls Kris inside, despite them digging their heels into the floor for a moment. The yellow lizard at the front of the room (must be Alphys) gives them a nervous smile.

“Ah! T-Toriel,” she clears her throat, “and that must be Kris.”

Kris figures that it’s only polite to wave, so they do, ignoring the monster kids. Ignoring the rising feeling of being overwhelmed by so many people in one room.

Toriel tugs their hand and pulls them into the room. Kris stares straight forward, uncovered eye’s vision going blurry as they start to space out. It helps with everything being too overwhelming, when everything’s just blurs of color.

Toriel talks, but in this state, Kris doesn’t hear. She leads them to an unoccupied chair next to a yellow monster and, after being prompted, they take a seat, completely spacing out after the warmth of Toriel’s hand leaves them.

They think. They think about strange dreams and fantasies alike. They think about how there must be speaking nearby, but they can’t register it, like it’s in a language so familiar yet so foreign.

Wow. They are really getting too out of it.

At the multiple mentions of their own name, Kris snaps back into reality. Toriel’s looking at them expectedly, eyebrows raised in question.

“Kris? You heard me, did you not?”

One or two kids chuckle when Kris’ head tilts to the side like a confused dog, a clear sign that they had not heard whatever it is that Toriel said.

“I am going home to make sure that your siblings do not cause any trouble. Alphys will take care of you.”

Kris nods, absentmindedly. They get the feeling that Toriel would have to go home even if they expressed a need for her to stay.

Kris’ mind goes back to being fuzzy before Toriel even reaches the door. Not that they mind. They just don’t feel like they’re completely there; completely real, but that’s okay. Maybe it’ll make this go by quicker.

They do listen to Alphys somewhat, though. They’re going to play a game to introduce everyone to each other - typical. Very obviously fighting to keep herself from stuttering, Alphys retrieves a ball. Tells everyone to make a circle on the floor.

Where other kids groan at the order, Kris is silent, taking a seat without complaint. They listen to the rules of this ‘game’. Very simple. They roll the ball around, and whoever gets it has to introduce themselves. Kris can do that. They think.

Alphys uses herself has an example for the game. Says her full name, and why she’s hear. Kris is aware that they’re probably going to forget all of the kids’ names by the end of the day.

Alphys rolls the ball to an armless kid, but they catch it with their legs just fine, and introduces themself with a voice so chipper and upbeat it completely catches Kris’ focus.

“Hi! I’m MK,” the child says, swaying as they talk, “I’m here because my parents thought it’d be a good idea.”

Nobody asks what the letters stand for, or if they stand for anything. Kris’ focus slips, but their own surprise keeps them from completely spacing out as the ball rolls into their legs.

All eyes are on them. Wide, mostly curious eyes. And Kris can’t talk.

When Alphys doesn’t say anything, Kris raises slightly trembling hands to start signing their own name. Their movements, however sloppy, are still clearly sign language. Alphys makes a gasp of realisation halfway through Kris’ name.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she says, sheepish, “everyone, this is Kris.”

“Is he deaf?” Someone asks.

“They,” Alphys says, “are not, uh, actually.”

Kris feels themself cringe, but, thankfully, Alphys says something else before the kid can butt in again.

“Alright, Kris, roll the ball.”

They move the ball with their feet, not in any specific direction. They don’t care where it goes; they hadn’t singled out a monster to roll it to. Everyone watches it as it rolls, across the wooden floor and over to another monster kid.

They pick up the ball with clawed hands, grinning in a way that can only be described as sharp. It’s… intimidating.

They certainly don’t make things better when they squeeze the ball in their hands so hard that their claws puncture it.

“Hi. I’m Susie,” she says, “and this game is stupid.”

Chapter Text

Chara’s not one to have vivid dreams. Even their nightmares are abstract and forgotten before the moonrise of the next night. A dream that shakes them from sleep slips away like soap, just as a nightmare that wakes them up with liquid on their cheeks is already leaving their memory from the moment their eyes open.

So, when they curl up on the couch, tired from the endless energy of their siblings, they don’t expect much when they fall asleep. They don’t even expect to make it to the deep sleep stage.

But this time is different. This time, Chara dreams, as vividly as a dream can be.

It starts with a blur of colors, accompanied by a surreality that keeps Chara from having any coherent thoughts about this. It’s a warm palette of yellows and browns, floating in the air and on the walls.

Chara’s not moving - maybe they don’t even have a body. The world looks both like a house and a void of the colors, nothing that they can make thoughts on, let alone make sense of.

Even if they could think, the scene changes. The warm colors change to a dark, unfriendly world of grey.

A long, long hallway unfolds in front of Chara, as bland as it is antagonistic. They do have a body now, or, they can move, at least. Even then, moving is hard, like their limbs are too cold to move properly, or their bones have turned to jelly.

There’s no sound, nothing they can register. There’s still no coherent thoughts on the matter. When Chara opens their mouth, they can’t talk. Maybe they have no voice at all.

The ability to even whimper doesn’t come to them. Not even when something large and white forms further down the endless hallway, just a spec of white in their vision. There’s no fear, not yet. Not when the white thing shows its face; an empty, black hole. Not when it starts sprinting towards Chara.

There’s no sense of urgency. Rather than trying to run away, they fall to the floor and cover their eyes. Even then, they can see through their hands.

Fortunately, at that moment, there’s another scene change.

“W̷̷̴̱̥̣̬͉̺͖͇͓̕ͅo̴̧̨̻̤̫̟̪̥̳͡u̸̴͎̞̭̯̞̥͖̳̰̯̫̠̗̙͢l͎̗͉͇͎͈̰͝͡ḓ̝̗̝͎͉̟̪̙͓̪̙̜̙͕̘̩͘͟͜͡ ̶̴̳̹͎̖̝̹͍̮̟̘̬͎̝͘͞͞ͅy͏̵̛͉̜͕̣͞ơ̸̴̩͈͖̜̘̥͈͚͉̜̭u̵̵̼̤͔̻̬̳̞̘͙̖̹̤̯̠͜ ̧͖̳̫̼̫̦͙̖̰͕̦̹̩͕̀l̸̦̳̮̩̲͈͎̺̖̰̫̞͖̺̯͎͟͝ͅi̳̩͈̪̬͍͉͔̙͓̜̞̻̗̬̻̪͢ͅk̛͙͍̻͙̪̩̼̹̞̙͙͟ę͝҉̝̥̜͚̱͓̬̲̗͔͓̳̜̟͙̫̝ ̧͘͏̲̮̹̰͡ś̶̪̥̟͉͓̮͓̩̲̭̖̺̹̙͘o̡̢̜͍̬̣͚̖͕̟̯̥͇̜̫͈̗̕͢m̷̸͡͏̰̜͍͖̬̠̯̳̥̯̯̘̥͈ȩ̛̦̼̮̜̮̹͈͈̩̣̯̮̺͓̬̤̯̕͟ ̷̼̭̰̙̗̮̘͔̖͈̖͈̪p͙͓̼͉͎͍͉͕̟̱̗̪͝i̸͖̞̹͝ȩ͏̷̛̣͓̝̬̖͇̳̲̼̳̮̣̘?͏͜͏̳̜̮̖̺̖͘”

“What?”

“Oh, my child, you are so silly.”

Chara’s not Chara anymore. Chara’s Frisk. But that doesn’t make sense. Only Frisk can be Frisk. Chara can’t be Frisk. Chara’s not Frisk. So why is Chara Frisk? Is Frisk Chara? Frisk can’t be Chara. Chara’s Chara. But Chara’s Frisk, right now. Is Chara only Chara sometimes? Chara doesn’t feel like Frisk. But those are Frisk’s hands. Is Chara not Frisk? It looks like Chara’s Frisk.

Maybe Chara is in Frisk’s eyes. But that doesn’t make sense, either. Chara can’t fit in Frisk’s eyes. Frisk’s eyes are Frisk’s eyes, and Chara isn’t Frisk’s eyes. Maybe Chara is both Chara and Frisk, but that doesn’t make sense. Chara can’t be two people. Chara can only be one person. Chara can only be Chara. Right?

“I asked if you wanted some pie?”

Chara wants to answer the question. Frisk does too. Or maybe it’s just Chara. Why would Chara know what Frisk’s feeling? Is Chara Frisk? No. Chara can’t be Frisk. Chara wants to answer the question. Not Frisk. But Frisk is here, somewhere. Or maybe they aren’t. Chara can’t tell. Because they are not Frisk.

Chara’s (Frisk’s?) mouth clacks when it opens. That’s not right. Chara isn’t made of wood, and neither is Frisk. Or maybe a Frisk is. Chara wouldn’t know. Chara’s not Frisk. But they look like Frisk, right now.

They answer the question. They don’t make a sound, but they answer the question. That’s not right. How can you answer the question when you don’t make a noise? Chara has a voice, and so does Frisk. Why would Frisk’s voice even matter? Chara’s not Frisk, and Chara’s being Chara right now, so only Chara’s voice matters. But if they did have a voice, would it be Frisk’s? Chara has a voice. Maybe their voice is Frisk’s, right now? But they just didn’t make a noise?

They try to raise their hand, but it doesn’t move. What? It’s Chara’s body. Or it’s a Chara being Frisk. No, it’s definitely Chara being Chara, and when Chara’s being a Chara, Chara can move Chara’s body. Maybe Chara can’t move Chara’s body because there’s strings coming out of their joints. Huh? Humans don’t need string. Puppets need string. Humans don’t. Chara’s a human.

But they can’t move. Maybe Chara’s a puppet right now? Or Frisk is? But Chara’s not Frisk. Frisk is human. Frisk’s body is the one with the strings. But Chara isn’t Frisk. Chara can see that it’s Frisk’s arms, Frisk’s body, Frisk’s joints. Frisk isn’t a puppet. Are they? For some reason, Chara isn’t too sure about it.

They’re wood. Humans aren’t wood. But maybe Chara is Frisk, and Frisk is a puppet, so maybe humans are wood. Maybe one human is wood. Wouldn’t that be strange? No, Chara would know if Frisk is wood. Asriel would know. Ralsei would. Toriel would. Asgore would.

Would they?

No. Frisk isn’t wood, and Frisk isn’t Chara, and Chara isn’t Frisk, and Chara isn’t wood, and Chara isn’t a puppet, and Chara is in control, and

Chara

is awake.

When their eyes open, they jolt upright, taking in the sounds of videogames and…

Huh.

Everything’s normal.

Chara rubs at their eyes, trying to get rid of their blurred vision. Someone taps their shoulder, and Chara immediately knows that it’s Asriel.

“Chara,” he says, “Kris is home!”

Blinking open their eyes to Asriel’s grin, Chara doesn’t give him that big of a reaction. “Ah.”

The lack of positivity doesn’t get rid of Asriel’s good mood, and he bounds away from Chara. Oh. They can see Kris, crowded from all sides by their siblings, despite Toriel’s orders to let Kris be.

Chara can hear everyone’s questions from where they are, but to be honest, they really don’t care about how Kris’ day went, or how the kid meetup went.

Kris barely talks and quickly walks in the direction of their room. Chara almost laughs. Typical.

What’s not typical is the barely-visible bruise on Kris’ lower arm, mostly hidden by their sleeves. But maybe Chara’s just imagining it.

After all, they still are a little drowsy.