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“Chara, Chara! Look!”
The response comes in a complete deadpan.
* It’s still a snow poff. Dingus.
The sensation of someone poking you gently in the small of your back comes, as expected, and you giggle. They’re so cute, and you can feel the wave of happiness and embarrassment before they lock down their feelings.
You give a soft smile to said poff before continuing. Behind you, the heart and name you’ve etched into it with your finger remain. C-
You wake up.
You don’t realise it, not at first. You lie there, not processing much of anything. An hour goes by, or perhaps it was only a minute and a half. Eventually your eye is caught by the blinking light of your laptop’s sleep mode light and you grumble. Must have used too much power again last night- ah, that’s right, you were awoken by the low-power alarm from the solar electrical system you had to install yourself (because you couldn’t get power lines run the six kilometers to here and can you just say screw humans for that even though they installed water and sewage pipes but no way are you moving back to a human city ever again) and you still need to get an extra battery.
You grumble again and smack the switch you put on the wall by the bed. A mournful beeeep fills the air for five minutes - or half a second – before everything starts up. You sigh and roll over – yep, your laptop is charging now and-
“Fuck.”
Your bed is depressingly empty and you remember. Chara had to go take care of...whatever it was, and they’re probably going to be out most of the day.
You wake up and you grumble. You don’t yet realise what kind of day it’s going to be, you’re not sure, you’re barely thinking right now.
You woke up, and it sucks. You try to walk- no, you’re stumbling- to the loo, and you hear a thump and a crashing, clattering sound. Oh, that was you. You just knocked over that shelf again and you glare at the collapsed skeleton of wire- and isn’t that just a lovely choice of words when you still have flashbacks to memories that aren’t yours you would never do that to them but then why do you remember it as though you did and you bet Sans would get a kick out of this, his eyes going dark like they did the last time some scumbag human came out here to mess with you. You keep glaring at the shelves and the few things that were on them as if your displeasure will make them tremble in fear and reassemble.
It doesn’t work.
You realise that this has started off as one of those days and you just hope that it doesn’t become one of Those Days because you really don’t need Char and Az coming home to find you rocking back and forth in the throes of a panic attack again don’t you worry them enough as it is and you feel bad because you know that the shelf and plushies are probably going to stay right where they are on the floor until tomorrow. Or more realistically until Chara gets home because Azzy is out doing whatever political bullshit just so that you’re all allowed to have the basic right of existing and can you just say screw humans again?
You feel bad because Chara’s going to come home and find the shelf collapsed and they’ll reassemble it because they understand you more than you deserve because they have days like this too and they’ll sit there, patiently waiting so that they can be there for you and. Haha. You’re pretty sure you don’t deserve their kindness right now but they’ve made it clear that you’re stuck with them. they’re stuck with you.
An insistent pressure reminds you of what you were doing and you scamper – stumble – into the bathroom and the damn paper falls off the roll just as you’ve started and rolls across the floor.
You glare at it and curse under your breath.
You woke up. On your best days, you grumble only mildly and feel better shortly after, because your friends are here and your family is here and Azzy’s doing that cute snort that passes for snoring and he’s spread across the bed messily because he just keeps moving around in his sleep and Chara’s clinging to you in their sleep like the adorable dork they are and this is almost the perfect life if only humans would just let you live.
Other days, however...
Days like those days, and like Those Days...
Your mobile chirps a message alert and you’re pulled from your spiralling thoughts for a moment. You’re not sure who it is because you have no energy to check- when did you get to the kitchen? Screw it, you can check the message tomorrow.
Days like these, those days, you remember why you hate everything. You know people expect this from Chara and not from you but you don’t understand why. You climbed the mountain for the same reason the others did, but you’re one of only two who chose to jump instead of accidentally falling in and you. You don’t understand how your true family can be so kind to you.
You hate coffee, and so does Chara, but there’s some in the pot slowly congealing and you wonder why you have a coffee pot before remembering that you both love dark chocolate mochas and you grab a mug and fill it because if they’re not going to punish you then maybe this will suffice for now.
You take a gulp to drive home the point of drinking this garbage and grimace but you definitely deserve worse while staring out the window. You can’t bring yourself to move the one step to the stools at the counter so you just collapse to the floor in a fall that is only partially controlled and adding to the stains on that part of the floor that everyone has stopped trying to clean by now.
“Ugh. Good morning, you fucker.” You flip off the window even though your heart isn’t in it and you take another gulp of the disgusting sludge in your mug. “Woke up again today, I was pretty pissed off by that. Or I would be. If I had the energy. By the gods this crap is disgusting.”
You laugh. You can’t help it – it bubbles up and out of a deep, dark pit somewhere inside you and bursts forth unbidden, the laugh of a broken piece of crap that is you having one of those days. It just keeps going, and you’re cackling, and you can’t stop, and you’re glad nobody lives close enough to hear you because you’re sure you sound like a complete nutter and you feel like one and you don’t need to be worrying them more than you do when you’re in a shop and you just shut down because there are too many humans and the damn lights are flickering and you just accidentally touched something that sent barbed hooks of shutdown juice through your brain and Chara has to keep everyone away from you while helping you stumble back out to the van they bought because you like vans for some reason and it fits Azzy when he goes out and, haha.
Ha.
Even your thoughts just keep going on and on and on and they’re not stopping and neither is the cackling and you suddenly realise that there’s a new puddle of coffee on the floor next to you.
Good fucking morning to you too, asshole.
Something lands on your head and bounces to the floor and you jump. What the hell was that- oh, a roll of paper towel. You glare at it.
Slowly, mechanically, you stand up, you’re sure you’ve been there all day but the clock. Haha. The clock says it’s been ten minutes and you don’t know how, it feels like you just sat down. For a stretched definition of “sat down”.
You’re still not sure why you run your mouth when you’re having one of these days, but you do. And so you do, while glaring at a particularly heinous cloud through the window. You’re not sure what it did, not yet, but you’re going to glare at it anyway. The shapeshifting little shit.
“Hello, you puffy shit. The least you could do is float in front of the sun. But.”
But.
Haha.
Then you’d have no sun for the electric.
“My name? I never really had one but Chara offered me one and it was probably the best gift I’d ever got.” It. Haha. It was probably the only gift you’d gotten by that point in what passed for a life. “Yeah, they named themself after a star, the dork. Then they offered me my name. Said it means ‘joy’. That’s pretty funny, isn’t it, you ass.” You glare harder at the cloud as it stretches and you take another gulp of what’s left in your mug.
You love the name, it feels like home.
You suddenly notice again the distinct lack of white fur and ruby eyes in the house. You know they would both rocket home as fast as possible if you told them you were having a day, and that just makes it worse. You’re glad, but you hate it, because you’re pretty sure that whatever they’re each doing is far more important than babysitting your broken self.
Instead, you continue vomiting words at the cloud that now looks like some sort of interstellar battlecruiser about to start glassing the surface because isn’t that just a cheery thought.
“I fell down a hole in a mountain, you know. Pretty sure I died on impact, ‘cause I threw myself down headfirst, but somehow I got better.” Like, haha, like some sort of cosmic punchline. “Did I mention that I woke up today? Man, what a shit.” And now you’re repeating old memetic phrases again, and when you look up at the clock, it’s well into afternoon because apparently you’ve dissociated for another hour.
And that’s when your mobile rings.
Grumbling about punchlines and punching something, you answer without checking the caller ID.
“Frisk’s Mortuary, walking dead speaking, how may I embalm you.” And, haha, won’t that just be lovely if it’s Mum calling-
“I’m on my way home, you dork. And you’re going to curl up in bed with me and help me eat this giant tub of ice cream while we watch ridiculous anime until you feel better.”
Shit. Of course it was Chara and of course they caught on right away and you don’t deserve this but the only thing that goes through your mind as the door clicks open and they gently tackle you in a hug is how glad you are to have them around.