Archive of Our Own ^beta

You looked through flower after flower after flower.

You did this every single day, without fail. Over and over and over, just like watering the plants. It was just like how the entries in your diary repeated themselves, over and over again, because you could never write anything but “Good day today!”

Maybe part of you hoped that if you wrote that enough times, if you just kept pushing forward, if you just smiled enough and worked hard enough, it truly would be a good day that day. It would be the day where everything finally, finally went back to how it was before.

It never did. But, still, every day, you looked through the flowers. It wasn’t ever for the customers, since you never had any. Right now, it wasn’t even for Tori, even though every day you gave Kris flowers to give to her in the vain hope she would even acknowledge that you existed. No, the flowers you were choosing were for an entirely different purpose.

You kept looking, and then you paused.

One of the flowers had wilted early.

A rose.

Careful to avoid the thorns, you lifted its bulb with the side of your hand, but it was completely limp. It fell the moment you stopped touching it, hanging lifelessly over the edge.

It instantly reminded you of…

No.

No, you wouldn’t think about that.

Still…

You couldn’t deny the symbolism. A rose, the symbol of love. The rose inside you had not yet wilted. Love still filled every part of you – romantic, platonic, familial. But every rose you had ever been given died on the branch.

Tori.

You tried, as you had many, many times, not to think for too long of her.

Instead, you thought further back, of another wilted rose.

You thought... of your Rudolph.

Hometown was a very, very small town. It was impossible not to know everyone, to meet everyone. Perhaps, then, it had been inevitable that you and Rudy would become childhood friends.

You were inseparable, you and him – if you did not look nothing alike, someone would have almost said the two of you had been like brothers.

You shared everything you had with him, and he to you. You ate lunch together (he always brought homemade tree-shaped Holly Day cookies with him, even in the spring). You did all your group projects together (he was far better at them than you were). You studied together (when you struggled with a problem, he just laughed and showed you his work). You played sports together (he always made sure to be on your team, even when you didn’t yet have an unfair advantage over everyone else).

You don’t know when you began to share something with him deeper than friendship.

It must have been when you were a teenager, and you began, for the first time, to feel things stronger than friendship at other people. You didn’t know what to make of any of those feelings, and truthfully, none of the ones you felt for anyone else felt right to you. You believed, as firmly as you do now, in true love, in soulmates, in love from deep within the soul that rested inside your chest.

And it was Rudy you first felt that for.

One Holly Day night, you were staying over at his house, playing a simple game on his television you cannot remember anymore for the life of you, one he had just got at a present. He challenged you to beat him at it, and you always accepted a challenge. The winner would have to do whatever the other person said, no questions asked.

You won. So you asked him to tell you who he loved.

And he’d smiled and said, “Really, big guy? You have to ask? It’s always been you.”

You kissed him then. It turned out it was under the mistletoe, because Rudy had hung mistletoe in that exact spot earlier that day, and he’d laughed afterwards and said that he guessed he hadn’t needed to do that after all.

You dated after that, even though there wasn’t really much to do in Hometown, especially back then. You always ended up spending time by the lake, sitting by the side and talking. That was enough for you. You enjoyed his conversations in a way you didn’t enjoy talking to anyone else. So many people looked at you, even back then, as someone to admire, respect, even fear – although you did not yet understand why.

But Rudy treated you like not just an equal, but at the same time, something more than an equal – something worthy of reverence, but not someone he couldn’t punch in the shoulder and crack jokes about.

When you got older and much, much larger, you went to University, and Rudy followed you there too. You first went into playing professional football because of your size and physical strength, but then studied law and policework when you decided you wanted to make a difference in people’s lives instead. Rudy went straight for a career in architecture.

You remembered asking him “Why architecture?” and he’d grinned and replied “Well, if we’re ever getting married, someone’s got to make a house big enough for your giant ass!”

As always, you had no idea what to do without him, in any sense of the phrase. When it had been time for a game, he had been there to cheer you on. Even though you were in completely different fields, he still helped you with your studies and preparing for your exams. When your assignments became too much, he would just talk to you, and you would feel less overwhelmed just like that.

And, still, you dated him – tearing up the strange, wide open world outside of the claustrophobic limitations of Hometown. You went to movies and fancy restaurants and even a theme park, things you didn’t have in Hometown. And with his encouragement, you went to parties, and clubs, and other places where the church the two of you had grown up in definitely wouldn’t approve of.

You were always shy, awkward, and out of place in those places. That you were always the largest presence in the room did not mean you still did not want to make yourself small. But it was Rudy, your Rudolph, the one who made your heart feel large, who encouraged you to step out of your comfort zone, to have fun, to live.

And it was in one of those places that you met her.

She didn’t attend your University, and you had never seen her in Hometown. She wore strange, revealing clothes and she danced like you’d never seen anyone dance before. She was completely beautiful and completely different and you wanted to get to know her the second you saw her.

The moment you saw her among the other dancers, flitting from monster to human to monster and laughing and shaking her hips, Rudy had slapped you on the back and said “Go get her, big guy! Strut your stuff!”

So you’d approached her, walked right up to her, and said with a don of your hat, “Howdy, madame. May I have this dance?”

She’d laughed her head off and then grabbed you by the waist, putting her hands directly on your rear. You barely noticed that your hat fell out of your hand and onto the ground. You could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“You are not from around here, are you?” she’d asked, grinning. “May I have you instead?”

Before you could stammer out a reply, she spun you around so fast that you felt dizzy, and then let go. You stumbled backwards, but she held your paw firmly in her grip, and you looked down the length of her arm to see her smirking at you.

It was a challenge. And you never turned down a challenge.

You stepped forward, grabbed her other paw, and lifted it up towards you before wrapping your other arm around her waist. The music was no waltz, but you encircled her, spinning in time with the rapid beats of the song as it built higher and higher, the both of you surrounded by flashing lights… and then, as it concluded, with every dancer standing apart from you, with the spotlights on the ceiling all pointing at you, you dipped her as far down as you could, and she expertly arched her leg up and back to meet you.

Then the song ended, and the room was filled with applause. You helped her raise herself back to her feet, and she was still smirking at you, as if she knew something you didn’t.

“I am afraid my question still stands,” she said.

“I am afraid my heart belongs to another,” you said, smiling softly.

She did not looked surprised, or even disappointed. She only smiled and slipped a hand into a pocket of her shorts, taking out a slip of paper. Written on it already was a name – “TORIEL” – next to a symbol of a soul and a phone number.

She slipped it into your paw and then slid up, standing on the ends of her feet, so that she could whisper into your ear.

“They can keep your heart,” she said. “It is the rest that I want.”

And then she walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the dance floor. You watched her retreating back, your face so deeply warm you felt your reddened cheeks could be seen through your fur.

Still dazed, you wandered back to Rudy, still at the bar. He was grinning, and when you approached him, he raised his hoof for a congratulatory high-five. You were so rattled that you did not return it.

“Aw, come on, man, don’t leave me hanging,” he teased. “You two were tearing it up out there. You get her number?”

You blinked. “Ah, er. Yes.”

Rudy slapped you on the back. “Hell yes! You better light her Holly Day lights, if you get my drift.”

You did not.

Toriel’s intentions had been anything but innocent, and Rudy’s feelings for you were far more so, and yet it was Toriel you gravitated towards. You did not know why. At first, you did not even consider your time together as dating.

Perhaps that was because, with Toriel, things started in reverse. The very first time you met, for a date drinking coffee at a nearby cafe, it became apparent that she had only one goal in mind. And you, so far outside of your experience, had followed along blindly, letting her lead the way in every sense.

But then, something changed, and she began to spend time with you in other ways. It seemed to surprise her as much as you that her favorite dances became softer and slower, that she drank coffee with you not as an excuse for a tryst but to hear your voice, that she blushed when you so much as touched her hand.

And it surprised you, too, that you enjoyed this time with her as much as you did. That you enjoyed your conversations as much as she began to. That you enjoyed her mere presence as you watched a film at a theater, or walked along a forest path, or even something as simple as riding the bus together.

But you were not the only one who could see the changes. You could see, in Rudy’s eyes, his unspoken sorrow. He hid it under smiles and laughter, but he did not hide it well.

“So,” he said one day, standing at the bus stop, smiling a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Guess I’m the present you take back to the store, huh?”

You’d stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide with panic. You’d never felt so small.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “I get it. I mean, it was never going to be Beauty and the Beast, right? Not if we’re both beasts.”

Behind him, the bus pulled up into the station.

“Rudy…” you’d said, once you’d finally found your voice. “I… I… don’t understand. You’re… the only one I’ve ever felt that way for. You’re...”

“Your Rudolph, right? Well, funny thing about that. You only need Rudolph one day a year.”

He grinned.

“Then he’s just history.”

And he walked up onto the bus, leaving you there alone.

Rudy supported you through everything, just like he’d always had. If he felt bitter about what had happened between you, he never showed it so openly again.

But you could always tell.

He met Carol, a Political Science student, when he attended a mock debate. He was so impressed by her that instead of asking any questions to her after the debate, he asked her out on the spot, and she was so impressed by his assertiveness that she agreed.

Or so the story went. In reality, you didn’t think Rudy loved her at all. No, what he told you was a half-joke you suspected was entirely true – “She’s the only reindeer I’ve ever met, man. You want me to have kids with a Snowdrake?”

You married Toriel when you returned to Hometown with her, marrying at the church where you’d been raised all your life, carrying a bouguet of multicolored flowers. Rudy was your best man. He married Carol not long after, taking her surname of Holiday rather than his surname of Rednosed, and you were his best man as well. As he’d promised, he built a house easily large enough to fit you, right down the street from your ancestral home – although, now, you would not be part of it.

You joined the police force and rapidly ascended the ranks – there weren’t many officers in the first place, after all – to become Chief. Rudy quit his job as an architect to raise his children when his wife became the Mayor of Hometown. And your wife, in her love of raising children herself, became a teacher, something you’d never once expected when you’d met her.

Almost immediately, you and Toriel brought Asriel into the world, and Carol gave birth to December. A few years after, Kris came into your life, no less your child than Asriel had been. And soon after that, Rudy’s second child was born, and then became Noelle, December’s younger sister.

Your children became close friends. Maybe that was what brought your two families close together again.

Rudy and Carol were there every step of your children’s growth, after all. You were as close as if the two of you shared a home – for many years, all of your family portraits had the Holidays in them. Pictures of Kris were as likely to contain Noelle as they were Asriel, and pictures of December as likely to contain Asriel as they were Noelle.

You were happy then, for those next ten years. And you would like to think Rudy was happy too.

You’d had a strange feeling about that night from the moment the sun set. Your children Kris and Asriel, as well as Noelle and December, had all not come home – you’d received calls from Toriel and Rudolph alike, expressing concern about where the children were and why they were out so late.

Still, you had not yet assumed the worst. Asriel was a mature young boy, and he would not put any of the other children in danger. It was more likely, you thought, that there was an entirely mundane explanation to where they had gone – sneaking around at the school, or the graveyard, getting into the kind of mischief children were always drawn to.

But when you investigated those locations, you found them in none of them. Your second in command, Lieutenant Undyne, also reported that they were apparently nowhere in the town at all.

That was when you began to feel dread. Although you could not be sure why, there was something in the air that night. Something dark, cold, an omen in your heart.

There was only two places near Hometown that they would go that you had not considered before. The bunker to the far south of the town, almost hidden in the forest paths, and the forest itself. The bunker was something often spoken of by the children of Hometown, a rumor whose source was as mysterious as that of the bunker itself. You thought little of those rumors, that it was a passageway to another world, another universe. That it had been built by something that existed outside of the rest of reality.

And the forest… the forest stretched on and on, seemingly into infinity. Even when you had traveled to University, you had no longer been able to see Hometown through the trees after only a few minute’s drive – and there was nothing else, for miles around, but trees. Rumors persisted that there was nothing outside the trees, outside the forest, even though you objectively knew those rumors were false.

Those stories unsettled even you, but you knew it was all ghost stories.

You reported that you were going to investigate the bunker to Lieutenant Undyne, and made your way into the forest. You drew your firearm and held it at your side, although you did not know why – there had never been a reason to use it in your entire time in the force.

But as you made your way down the path, further and further away from Hometown and closer and closer to the bunker, you could almost feel it, the crackling in the air, like a hum but physical. There was a cold in the silent darkness that chilled you to your core, a cold far deeper, far more alien, than the wind could possibly create.

Your breath didn’t even mist in the air. It was an unnatural cold. Something inside you.

You eventually found yourself at the bunker, clearly visible even in the sheer dark of the night, but the doors were shut tight. They didn’t even budge when you tried to open them.

And… you could feel the cold coming from somewhere else, like something pulling at you. From somewhere deeper into the forest.

You turned on your radio and attempted to contact Undyne. Nothing answered except a series of horrible screeches and loud static, little more than garbage noise. You attempted to shut it off, but the sounds continued in spite of anything you pressed, like the wailing of animals.

Then the cold in the air changed sharply. It intensified so deeply that it felt like you were going to freeze from the inside-out. Your soul felt like it had slowed into nothing, despite that you were anything but calm, and you clutched at your chest.

Something was behind you. Approaching you.

Automatically, you raised your firearm and turned to face the source of the cold.

But it was only a child.

You almost didn’t recognize her at first glance. She was wearing a striped green and red Holly Day sweater with a tree on it, huge sleeves hanging down from her arms. Her hooves stuck out of them, but they looked as if they had frozen solid – thick chunks of ice enveloped them. Her fur was standing on end, as if trying to protect her from the same cold you felt. And her eyes…

Were solid white. Bright, pure, snow-like white, without so much as a pupil. They glowed in the dark like neon lights.

Noelle.

You holstered your firearm and by instinct ran straight towards her, and as soon as you approached her, her head fell back, and the rest of her body fell forward. You caught her just before she hit the ground, and turned her over to make sure she was alright. Her pupils had returned to her eyes, and the glow had already faded, but she only stared straight ahead, at the stars above.

In spite of the change in Noelle, the static still screeched from your radio, and the ice-cold vibration in the air did not fade. But you barely noticed. All you could think of was that she was immensely cold in your arms. For a moment, you feared the absolute worst – that whatever unimaginable thing had happened had taken Noelle’s life, and you were holding a corpse.

But Noelle’s mouth moved, and she spoke, first so quietly you could not hear, and then so distinctly you could hear nothing else.

“Did I cast it? I told you I could. I’m not scared. Did I cast it? I told you I could. I’m not scared.”

She repeated it over and over, and you only stared in shock. Then you tried to interrupt, tried to get her to focus on you instead.

“Noelle, can you hear me?” you said, trying to be heard over the noise of your radio. “You’re in shock. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you tell me where the others are? Where are Asriel and Kris? Your sister?”

“I told you I could. I’m not scared. See, Dess? I did it. I told you I could. I’m not scared.”

“Where is December?” you asked again.

“December,” Noelle repeated. “December. December. I did it. I’m not scared. I’m not scared, December.”

You looked out into the forest. The rest of them must be there, you were sure. And if they were in a similar state, you could not possibly carry them all at once. That meant, as much as you hated the very idea, you had to leave Noelle behind.

“Noelle,” you said, burying your fear as deep as you could. “Please remain here. I need to find the other children. I will return in only a moment.”

You carried her over to the bunker and gently laid her back against the doors, sitting up. She continued to stare straight ahead unnervingly, and her head lolled slightly, as if she couldn’t consciously lift it. She looked more like a doll than a person.

But you couldn’t wait a moment longer. You stood up, turned from her, and walked into the forest, between the trees, carving a straight path from where Noelle had walked up behind you.

You didn’t know how long you walked for. It felt like hours, but it could have been minutes. The further you walked, the louder the static and noise became from your radio, and the deeper the cold felt. It felt impossibly cold, like the deepest ocean, or the furthest reaches of space – a cold that nothing should be able to survive. And yet, still, your breath did not mist.

You felt no relief when you finally reached the source of the cold, when the grassy pathway gave way to a razor-thin sheet of ice that enveloped the ground in a perfect circle.

There was three figures in the frozen clearing, around an extinguished fireplace. In front of the fireplace was an open book, one you did not recognize. One of the figures was your ten year old human child, Kris, holding their red, horned headband in their hands, rocking back and forth in place and staring at the icy floor.

The other figure was Asriel, only three years older. In front of and below him was December Holiday, eyes wide open in the same way as her sister. Her mouth hung open, and no sound was coming from her lips. Asriel was pressing his hands against her chest, pushing down on it, and then breathing into her open mouth, but she did not respond.

The icy sheet beneath them was encroaching on her body, rising up like twisting needles to cover the outside of her jacket, her legs, and the back of her head. It looked as if it was trying to consume her whole.

In disbelief, you walked closer. The ice felt completely solid beneath your feet, as if it was not ice at all, despite that it was colder than ice should possibly be.

“Asriel,” you called out. His head whipped up to look at you, his eyes widening in panic behind his glasses. Kris flinched in on themselves at the sound of your voice.

“Dad! Dad, I… Dad, she’s… Dess…”

You approached slowly, raising your hands for calm.

“Slow down. Please, let me see her.”

He nodded, but did not stand up. He only stared down at her as if expecting, at any moment, that she would wake up again.

You approached the rest of the way, then crouched down in front of her. The static was almost deafening now, and the cold felt physically painful, a solid wall in front of you. First, you lifted December’s arm, rolling up the sleeve of her jacket and feeling her pulse on her wrist. Her arm was limp in your hand, and you felt nothing whatsoever. Only cold. When you released her arm, it fell limp again. It was as if she was…

No. No, you refused to accept that.

Next, you unzipped December’s jacket, then raised her shirt so that you could place your paw against her chest and feel for the rhythmic pulse of her soul.

There was no sound, no vibration. Not even the slightest beat.

All you felt… was cold.

“Good lord,” you said, to yourself, horror filling you to your core in a way you’d never once felt in your life. Already, this felt like some sort of horrible dream.

“Oh god,” Asriel softly whispered, tears filling his eyes. His paws raised to cover his mouth. “Oh god, she’s… she’s…”

“We’ll take her to the hospital,” you reassured him, gazing him firmly in the eyes. “There’s still hope.”

You knew you had to ask the next question, but it didn’t make it any easier to say.

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Asriel breathed in sharply, and you could see the tears rolling down his cheeks, but he lowered his paws and spoke.

“We… were casting magic.”

You nodded. You had figured as much already. You knew that if your wife had overheard that her children had been involved in the forbidden art of magic, the occult, she would have been enormously upset. But you had neither the time, nor the desire, to cast blame.

“We…” Asriel continued. His voice sounded far away – it was hard to hear over the static. “We dared Noelle to… to cast a spell. We’d only cast little spells, like making… making fire and, uh, stuff like that. But Dess… Dess dared her to cast a real spell.”

Asriel’s gaze flicked over to their younger sibling, still rocking back and forth on the sheet of ice.

“Noelle didn’t want to. She said… she said she, she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But Kris, uh. They… they egged her on. I guess… I guess they thought... it would be funny or something.”

Asriel looked back at you.

“Noelle got really upset, and Kris… they just kept pushing and pushing. And Dess… she… she kept pushing too, and Noelle shouted something, and then… then…”

Kris whined and covered their ears.

“She cast it. She cast it, and it hit her. It hit Dess.”

You nodded gravely. It all made sense. There was a reason monsters did not cast magic. There was a reason it was not spoken of in polite company. There was a reason even the Church, which had no concept of sin, still considered it a relic of the past, of a time of war and strife rather than peace.

Magic destroyed lives. It took, rather than built. It teared down, rather than creating.

And now…

“This is what we will do,” you said, keeping your gaze level with him. “We will return to Hometown with December and Noelle. We will take them to the hospital. That you cast magic will not be spoken of to anyone.”

You took a breath.

“I will take full responsibility.”

“What?” said Asriel, eyes widening. “Dad…”

“I allowed you to roam freely,” you said. “I allowed you to wander into the forest. I left you unsupervised and alone, even though I am both your father and the chief of police.”

Asriel looked ill at the suggestion, but he nodded.

“If I take responsibility,” you said, “then you, your sibling, and Noelle will escape blame. That is all that matters to me.”

Asriel nodded again, even though you weren’t entirely sure he was still listening. He looked like he was losing himself as much as Kris and Noelle had, which you could hardly blame him for.

Gently, you put your paws under December – trying not to think of her as a body, as a corpse – and lifted her in both arms, cradling her in your grasp. Ice shattered and cracked as you pulled her free from it. She laid limp in your arms, still staring at nothing, not breathing at all.

“Get your sibling,” you said. “Noelle is still at the bunker. We will return to her.”

“...Alright,” Asriel agreed, clearly reluctant but undoubtedly seeing no other option. You watched as he walked to Kris and offered them his back to climb on, which they did, clearly reluctantly, but undoubtedly seeing no other option either. That done, the three (four, you told yourself over and over) of you walked back in the direction you came, towards the bunker.

You said nothing, but Asriel spoke.

“Do you really think Dess…?”

You didn’t know precisely what he meant to say, but your response was automatic.

“She will recover,” you said. “We will make this right. I swear to you.”

You said nothing more as you made your way to the bunker. Once again, it felt like it took hours, and yet it also felt like mere minutes.

When you finally arrived at the bunker, carrying December in your arms, Noelle turned her gaze up to you. She was muttering to herself, and her gaze was empty and lifeless, as if she was barely conscious of anything happening around her.

But when she saw December, her eyes widened, and she stood up and made a sound like a choked scream, a horrible, wordless sound. It was if she wanted to scream, but couldn’t.

Then her voice broke into sobs, loud, awful, hiccuping sobs.

Asriel set Kris down, rushed over, and held her close, crouching down and laying her against his chest. She struggled and squirmed in his grip, but he held her tight and spoke to her.

“It’s only a bad dream, No,” he said, his voice a rush of words, his tone someone clearly struggling to try to be clear and confident despite feeling anything but. “It’s just a nightmare. It’s a nightmare and you’ll wake up tomorrow and… and everything will be OK. I promise.”

Slowly, her crying slowed, and she trembled in his arms instead, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

That was when you noticed something, for the first time. You weren’t sure how it had escaped your notice before, but…

Noelle’s breath was misting in the air. And her tears… by the time they fell to the ground, they each turned to snow.

Noelle awoke the next day, but December did not.

December did not wake up at all.

You accepted the full blame, just as you’d promised you would. And as you expected, what explanations you had prepared directed the blame away from the children, and towards you.

It was Carol you saw first.

You knew Carol well. She was close to your family, even if it was more through Rudy than herself. She was always busy, after all, with her job – it was rare that anyone saw her. But she was still like family, as warm to you as she was to your children.

Now all the warmth was gone.

“Mr. Dreemurr,” she said, wiping her glasses as she spoke to you. “With all due respect towards what you’ve done for the police force of this town, you must understand the delicate position I am in. You are meant to be a role model for the children. You are meant to be trusted by them, by their families.”

You nodded without looking up at her, arms folded in your lap.

“Now you are responsible for what has happened to my daughter.”

She stared at you. You tried not to look back.

“Aren’t you?”

“I was negligent,” you said. “I allowed…” You swallowed. “Her… to be out there, alone. If I had just kept better track of her...”

“See, the truth is, I have my doubts about that story,” Carol said. You looked up in alarm to see her staring hard at you from behind her glasses. “Teenagers don’t just fall down for no reason.”

“Nonetheless,” you said, as you’d prepared to say. Your throat felt tight, and actually speaking it was difficult. “That is how I found her. Perhaps she was ill and not aware of it.”

“If I wished,” Carol said, as if you hadn’t spoken. “I could have this further investigated. I could find out what you are clearly not telling me.”

She held out her hoof.

“But, because you are close to my family, I will not. Your gun and badge, Mr. Dreemurr. You are hereby demoted. I would encourage you to quit forthwith, of your own volition.”

You nodded, because there was nothing else you could do, and gave them over.

You quit the force the next day.

Your wife stared at you from across the table.

“Just tell me what has happened.”

You did not stare back.

“I have told you everything.”

“Everything except the truth.”

She reached out her paws across the table, face-up, clearly expecting you to reach out yours.

“Gorey, please,” she said. “Do you not trust me? Do you not have faith in your own wife?”

“I cannot tell you more.”

“Cannot or will not?” she said, but her tone was gentle, not accusatory. “Look at our children, dear. Something has happened. Asriel is… he is pretending to be happy, for my sake. I can see it. And Kris… something has changed in them. It is like there is a deep wound in them that they will not let me heal.”

You nodded. She was right. She was right, and yet…

“Even Noelle,” she said. “That she would be upset, that I would understand. Instead, it is like she refuses to see the reality in front of her. She acts cheerful, as if her sister is still with us. She brushes off anyone who tries to tell her differently. She is not well.”

You swallowed. You had seen that. First, Noelle had seemed to believe that what had happened to her sister was a mere dream, a nightmare. Then, when it was clear that no longer made sense even to her, she no longer seemed to acknowledge that anything had happened at all.

“Please, Asgore,” Toriel continued. “Please just tell me the truth.”

You nodded one more time, then took a deep breath and raised your gaze to look her in the eyes.

“I shot her.”

Her eyes widened, and she pulled her paws away from you.

“It was an accident,” you continued. “Only Carol knows the truth. The children were out together, in the forest. I was on guard and had my firearm out when December and Noelle came up from behind me, unexpectedly. I could not see either of them well in the dark, and raised my firearm defensively. The safety was off, and it discharged.”

You sighed.

“That is the truth.”

Toriel sat with her paws raised to her mouth, staring at you in shock. When she lowered them again, they were shaking.

“You mean to tell me… you killed a child?”

“Yes.”

Tears sprang to Toriel’s eyes. She shut them.

“Oh, Angel…”

“Toriel…” you said. “I am solely responsible for what has occurred. If you cannot forgive me…”

“Forgive you?” she interrupted. Her eyes were open again and, to your surprise, she was smiling softly at you. “Dear, whether I forgive you or not does not matter. I am not the one from whom you should seek forgiveness. But you have told me the truth, and that means a great deal.”

You did not breathe a sigh of relief. The tension inside you was as tight as a knot.

“We will work through this,” she assured you, expression firm. “We are a family. We will not let this drive us apart.”

She reached out her paws again, and this time, you took them.

“I love you, Gorey.”

You smiled at her. “And I you.”

After the incident, Rudy fell sick for the first time, with symptoms suggesting that he would soon fall down too. A violent, constant cough, a cold throughout his body, the inability to walk even for short periods without feeling dizzy and confused.

Fortunately, he recovered after only a few months, and that is when you spoke to him, at the restaurant.

“Are you sure you’re well?” you asked.

“Eh, it’ll take more than a little cold to take me out,” he said. “Why, worried about little old me already? I know you’re soft, but you ain’t that soft!”

You said nothing in response.

“Tell you the truth,” he said, frowning. “Doc said it wasn’t physical. It was mental.”

“...I see,” you replied.

“Figures, huh? That I go and get myself literally worried sick!”

Again, you said nothing.

“It’s No,” he admitted, gazing out the window. “It’s been months. And she still won’t acknowledge it. She can’t even say Dess’ name without freezing up. And she’s… well, she’s acting strange. I found her standing in front of the fridge once. Not eating anything, not looking at anything. Just standing there.”

“Has she seen a professional?” you asked.

“What, like a shrink?” Rudy replied, mouth setting. “You want some quack poking around at her brain? No thanks. It’ll just make things worse.”

You didn’t argue.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just don’t want her getting hurt again.”

“I understand,” you said, because you could think of nothing else.

“Hey, uh,” he said, looking at you. “I know we’ve had our… disagreements. But I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. For No. For Dess. I’m sorry my wife doesn’t get it. But it means a lot to me.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate that.”

“You’re my friend, man,” he said, smiling and leaning over the table to clap you on the shoulder. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

The love Toriel felt for you withered away. You could feel it even before she began to argue with you over petty, foolish things. Even before she refused to sleep in the same bed with you and you were forced to sleep on the couch. Even before she stopped talking to you at all.

You loved her just as much, just as intently. But she did not love you back.

It did not surprise you when she filed for divorce. You did nothing to argue as she took full custody of your children, of your home. You lived on the second floor of the flower shop you’d opened after leaving the force, sleeping on a mattress.

If you were a smarter man, you would have realized she wanted nothing to do with you ever again. But you continued to reach out, to speak to her, to try to reforge the dying embers of your relationship.

She did not ever return your affections, and whenever possible, ignored your very existence. Your youngest child, Kris, barely visited. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to your son as he left for University – you were told that he had left afterwards, in a clipped phone call.

You put everything you had into the flower shop, because you had nothing else.

You’d always said raising flowers was like raising children, after all.

You sighed as you thought of all of this. The memories still tore at your heart like thorns.

You had not visited Rudy to give him his flowers recently. So you gathered the appropiate ones.

White tulips, symbolizing apology.

Purple hyacinths, symbolizing regret.

White crysanthemums, representing grief, loss, and mourning.

And red roses, representing love in all its forms.

You put them into a large bouquet and drove to the hospital. The staff expected you at this point, so you were shown right in to see Rudy.

You did not look at him as you entered, although you did not need to in order to see how grayed his fur was, how weak his eyes looked, how tiredly he held himself.

His illness was supposedly physical now, although you did not know the source. He was not especially old, and you did not know of any prior history of disease in his family. Either way, the symptoms were clear – he was on the verge of falling down, just as his daughter had.

You set the new flowers down in the display.

He coughed loudly, and very intentionally.

“What, not going to say hello?”

You turned to him and smiled.

“Of course. I was just delivering these flowers.”

“Roses again,” he said, with a tired smirk. “You know, I’m a married man. They’re going to start rumors about us.”

“I cannot honestly say that worries me,” you said.

He laughed his deep laugh, then coughed again. “Was… was that you flirting? Heh, never thought I’d see the day!”

You laughed as well, and after a moment, he motioned towards the chair next to the hospital bed.

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t break the chair.”

You nodded and went to sit down on it. The chair creaked under your weight, but held.

“You know,” he said without looking your direction, after a long moment where he said nothing at all. “I don’t have long left.”

“What?” you said quickly, almost rising from the chair again.

“Doctors say I’ll fall down in a week or two,” he said, still without looking at you. “Month at most.”

“Rudy, I…” you tried to say. “I had no idea.”

He shrugged.

“Eh. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s my daughter.”

Now, finally, he turned his gaze back to you, crossing his hooves in front of himself.

He had never looked as old to you as he did then.

“She’s already lost her sister. You know, she’s better now. She doesn’t lie about it. To herself, I mean. She knows her sister… isn’t coming back.”

He smiled, even though there wasn’t anything to smile about.

“We lied to ourselves for a while. Told ourselves that she was just, you know, in a coma. That she was sleeping, and that she’d wake up. One day.”

His smile faded.

“Then we stopped lying. Listened to the doctors. Took her off life support. Noelle couldn’t even be in the room with us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so scared.”

He paused. You said nothing still.

“I told them not to put me on it. Not going to make her go through that again. If it’s my time, it’s my time, you know?”

“But…” you started to say. “Rudy… it won’t be any easier for her. You know that.”

He snorted. “What, you think it’d be better if she watched her dad sleep forever? Knowing he’d never wake up? Come on, man. Better to rip the bandaid off.”

He stared intently at you.

“Speaking of which. Tell me what really happened to Dess.”

Your eyes widened. That must have been what gave you away, because his gaze lowered.

“Right. I always knew something was up.”

You felt yourself reflexively swallow. You shut your eyes tight and breathed out.

“Noelle…” you finally said, after a long moment. Saying these words felt like pulling something out of yourself that had been trapped within you for a decade. “She cast a spell. December and Kris encouraged her to. And she hit December with it.”

You opened your eyes again, and looked up at Rudy, filled with guilt. But Rudy, to your surprise, only smiled a small, exhausted smile.

“Yeah. Figures it was something like that.”

“You’re not… upset?” you asked.

He laughed. “What? At who? Noelle? She was a little kid.” His smile faded. “They were all kids.” His gaze softened, and he smiled again. “Just wish you’d told me a long time ago.”

“I couldn’t,” you said. “I couldn’t risk them taking the blame. Any of them. But especially Noelle.”

His smile widened into a grin.

“Man, that’s just like you. Putting all the world on your shoulders. Sacrificing everything you have for a daughter that’s not even yours.”

You shook your head.

“Your family is my family,” you said.

Rudy coughed. “That so?”

You nodded. “It is.”

He patted the bed. “Stand over here then.”

You stood up from the chair, which fell over behind you, and walked up next to the hospital bed.

“Your family is my family,” he repeated, turning towards you. “You know how long I’ve wished that was true?”

You watched as he reached out and brushed a hoof against your cheek.

“So what if we’re both beasts? Do beasts not love beasts?”

“Rudy…” you said softly.

“Let me pretend,” he said. “Just once.”

You nodded, and leaned down, and he leaned forward, your cheek in his hoof as he pressed a kiss against your lips. He tilted his head into the kiss, and you let yourself kiss him back, kiss him just as if you really had been husbands. It lasted for only a few seconds, a single, lingering moment, and then the kiss was broken by a choked cough.

“Too bad it’s too late for a divorce,” he said after, grinning at you. “Eh, Gorey?”

And he started to cough even more violently, covering his mouth with his hoof.

“Don’t… don’t let this be the last time I see you,” he said, once he’d stopped coughing. “Alright?”

You smiled at him. “Of course… my Rudolph.”