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Toriel was in the kitchen in Home, putting a pie in the oven to bake. After she closed the over door, she turned around, dusting her paws on her apron, and looked up.
A child stood in the doorway.
Toriel recognized the child as the first one to fall after Chara—Betty, she remembered her name to be.
“Did you need something, my dear?” she asked.
Betty, who wore a pink ribbon in her brown hair, suddenly scowled. “You killed me,” she accused.
Toriel’s heart stopped beating. “W-What?” she stammered.
“You killed me,” Betty said again, pointing directly at her.
Toriel froze in terror for several seconds, then pushed her way past Betty in the living room, not even saying “excuse me” like she normally would have.
Another girl wearing an orange bandana sat in Toriel’s chair at the table. “It’s all your fault,” she said, pure hatred on her face.
Yet another child in a pink tutu lounged in Toriel’s reading chair by the fireplace. She sat up upon seeing Toriel. “If you hadn’t let me go, I would still be alive.”
Toriel fled from the living room to her bedroom, but to her horror there was a little boy in cloudy glasses sitting on her desk chair. “Why did you let me go, Mommy?”
Two more children appeared—one in a stained apron that sat up in her bed, and another boy in a cowboy hat who came out from under it. “You knew what would happen to us,” they declared in unison.
Toriel didn’t know where else to run, so she bolted from her bedroom and to the stairs, taking them two at a time despite the risk of falling. She ran all the way to the doors of the Ruins.
There, the last child waited for her.
“Frisk!” Toriel gasped, clutching her chest. “My child—”
Without a word, Frisk turned and went through the doors. Toriel could not catch them before the doors closed, nor could she seem to open them to chase after the child.
She then fled in the opposite direction, out of Home, nearly all the way to Chara’s grave—until she heard a Froggit speaking.
“Did you hear? King Asgore finally has the last human soul! He’s preparing to absorb them all now!”
Toriel fell to her knees.
“You should be smiling,” she heard behind her.
“Aren’t you excited? Aren’t you happy?” The Froggit hopped directly in front of her, a big grin on its face. “You’re going to be free.”
Toriel awoke with a start.
It took her a minute to get her bearings. She was not in Home, she realized. She was at home, in her house on the surface. She could hear crickets chirping outside, the wind in the trees, the creaking of the house as it settled.
Asgore had never gotten the final human soul. Frisk had saved them all.
And now that same child was sleeping in the bedroom just down the hall from her.
Needing reassurance, Toriel got out of her bed and crept down the hall, cracking open Frisk’s door to check on them.
To her surprise, the child was sitting up in bed, rubbing at their eyes. They looked at her questioningly.
“I am sorry, my child,” Toriel whispered, opening the door all the way to come inside. “I am… afraid I had a bad dream, and needed to ensure that you were still here.”
Frisk nodded understandingly. They waited until Toriel turned on their bedside lamp before replying. I had a bad dream, too.
“Did you, now?” Toriel sat carefully on the end of Frisk’s bed. “Would you like to tell what it was about?”
Frisk thought for a minute, then shrugged. It’s gone now.
“I see.” Toriel was rather jealous; she still remembered every one of the fallen children’s betrayed faces from her dream.
What did you dream about?
Toriel was loath to answer at first, but she had hidden so much from them before… perhaps it was time to be truthful, even if Frisk couldn’t fully understand her pain. “I often feel very… at fault for allowing all the children to leave the Ruins,” she admitted. “In many ways, I am as angry at myself for letting them go as I am at Asgore for killing them… and I often fear the children hate me, too, wherever they are now.” She sighed. “My subconscious seems to like to remind of that from time to time.”
Frisk crawled out from under their covers and across the bed to hug Toriel. I don’t hate you, they said. I don’t think they do, either.
Toriel certainly wanted to think that was true. “Well, I do not think I will ever truly know. What I do know is that I can live knowing that you and I love each other.” She smiled. “Now, my dear, perhaps we should go back to bed.”
Can I sleep with you?
“If you wish. I would like that very much.” Toriel lifted Frisk from the bed and turned off their bedside light.
Once they had gotten into Toriel’s big bed, Frisk fell asleep within minutes. Toriel, however, was still awake for a while, thinking.
These nightmares would likely persist for a while, she believed. But having Frisk around was helping her come to terms with everything, and she was slowly beginning to forgive herself.
Would she, if she had the chance, ever turn back time and make the children stay? A while ago, she would have said yes in a heartbeat. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Doing so would likely mean she never would have met Frisk.
And letting go of Frisk was something she never wanted to do.
Toriel was tired of letting go.
But she knew she had to let go of one more thing—her own guilt and self-hatred.
That night marked the first night Toriel began to set herself free.