Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charlie had always been patient. Everyone found it annoying that he didn't give immediate answers or was lengthily waiting before doing anything, but he knew it was his strong point. After all, they said patience was a virtue. And he used his wisely. He would always take his time to analyse the environment, the people and the circumstances. In this way, he could put together the best strategy to apply according to the situation he was in.

Because, yes, Charlie was patient and smart, but it was about all he had. He had disease that kept him from really growing up physically, to the extent that, at the age of 10, he still looked like a 6-years old child, with a slim and frail body. Thus, most children at school avoided him, for fear of catching this disease (stupid fear seeing that it couldn't be given like a virus). The others took advantage of his short height and physical weakness to hassle him. He was an easy target to them.

But he watched, from near and far. Learned. And found another strategy than avoidance. He studied how they behaved according to the people they interacted with as well as their strength extent. Charlie noticed that cuter girls were less targeted by those children, or at least that they lashed out less physically at them. Also that they were less cocky in front of people who were stronger or standing up for themselves. So Charlie decided to not be a helpless little boy, wordlessly letting the others beating him up anymore. He was going to become a cute little girl who would retaliate if needed.

It took some times but after all, he was patient. He let his hair grow down to his shoulders, then pinched a red ribbon to his young half-sister when she wasn't looking, as well as one of her dinette knives, the most realistic. He dressed himself as usual, overalls on one of these perpetual striped T-shirts, since girls also dressed like that. He slipped the plastic-bladed knife in his overalls front pocket, inside of which were band-aids too just in case, put on his bag and went early to school. On the way, he stopped and hid in a park to finish the preparation. Using a little mirror, also taken behind his young half-sister's back, he made a pretty hairstyle by tying a part of his light-brown hair into a small ponytail with his ribbon, making an adorable bow, and let the rest fall elegantly around his head.

As he looked in the mirror, he didn't smile, his lips seeming definitely stuck in a neutral line, however his big light-blue eyes had softened. He really looked like a girl like this. And he was really cute. Perfect. The determined look he took suited him well too. For once, he didn't dislike what he saw in his reflection. He put away the mirror and his comb, and went to school with a confident tread. He was going to transform his weakness in an asset.

******************************************

He had made a bigger impression than he expected. Many confused, surprised or curious glances had lingered on him and murmurs had been flying in profusion. The other boys must have been the more confounded ones. Most of the girls had seemed surprised before lingering with interest over his hairstyle. The teacher had raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

In the schoolyard, he had the surprise not to see boys coming at him, but two girls furiously whispering to each other while looking at him. They remained silent once before him until one of them told him that she liked his haircut. He thanked her and she asked how he did it. He calmly explained and the second girl ended up timidly asking if he could try to make her the same hairstyle. Surprised but not displeased, he obliged and the two girls looked delighted when he finished. He could see from the corner of his eyes other girls watching them with more and more interest.

At the end of the class, a hand pulled him by surprise in an alleyway. So now was the confrontation with his bullies? All right. He was expecting it anyway, he just didn’t when it would happen. He indeed found himself in front of these boys who never stopped tormenting him.

“It’s been a while we couldn’t get ahold of you. Well then now you’re doing your hair like a girl?” one of the boys asked in a mocking tone.

“Who tells you I wasn’t always a girl?” he replied with a little high-pitched voice as he opened big frightened eyes.

First step of the new strategy: unnerve. These boys had never seen him come out of his impassivity, let alone heard his voice. They looked astounded and hesitant, seeming to really question what they thought they knew.

“Wait so you’re a girl since the beginning?” another boy asked.

“Who knows?” he responded in his normal voice – not much lower – with a shrug.

Second step: allow doubt to linger. Now, to see if it would work as he hoped. If so, to apply permanently.

He took a punch in his ribs and doubled over, winded.

“And since when are you so cheeky?” the first boy hissed.

He felt the corner of his lips go up slightly for a short moment and a warm sensation filled him. The hit wasn’t as hard as usual.

“Since I decided I had enough to let people walk over me,” he said, straightening up with determined eyes.

The third step: stand up for himself. The boys seemed caught out by his combative look. He sure didn't get them used to it. He calmly breathed and watched carefully, the body ready to move.

One of his bullies threw himself on him to strike a blow. He waited to the very last split second to dodge and the fist hit hard against the wall behind him. The crack he heard followed by the boy’s cry of pain made him wince a little. That must have hurt. He ducked to avoid the punch from another of his attacker which lost his balance and fell onto the first. However he couldn’t avoid the knee blow in the stomach of the third and last boy.

He stepped backwards, pressing his arms against himself. Not anticipated enough. He had to anticipate better to act quickly.

“Not so smart now, huh?” the author of the blow laughed while his acolytes got up.

“Hey! What’s going on here?!” yelled a furious voice at the entrance of the alleyway.

They all turned with surprise towards the girl who just showed up. This, Charlie didn’t have in his plan. The newcomer was a little older than them and her face looked vaguely familiar.

“It’s not your business, get lost!” one of the boys said in a threatening tone.

“Maybe but I can’t stand or see people ganging up on one person so you gotta have to include me in this too,” the blonde girl replied as she passed between them to join Charlie. She took him by the arm to help him stand up. He really didn’t plan other people, let alone someone who’d want to help him. He would have never consider it.

“Who said you could intervene?” the third boy got angry and tried to hit her. The girl didn’t gave him time to do it as she gave him a kick in the guts that threw him backwards.

“That was for the hit he gave you,” she said to Charlie while addressing him a wink.

The two other boys jumped on her, making him fall in the process. Blows were exchanged then one of the assailants managed to make the girl trip and she fell to the ground. The boy she’d hit got up and walked towards her fulminating, completely ignoring Charlie.

Charlie, who didn’t react because of the chock of seeing someone defend him, woke up when he saw this and decided to put the optional step of his plan into action: intimidation. He got back on his feet and took the plastic knife out of his pocket.

“Hey!” he shouted.

All eyes turned to him with surprise.

“I’ve been nice so far but come near her or me again and I won’t hesitate to use this,” he angrily growled as he pointed the dinette knife at them.

The boys and the girl opened their eyes wide at the sight of the object, then their eyes shifted back and forth between the knife and his angry look. He was evidently bluffing but his expression was genuine. He had enough of being bothered and didn’t want to drag someone else in this. Especially not the first person who came to him to protect him, although he still didn’t understand why.

The boys eventually retreated quickly without further ado. He approached the girl who was looking at him with a stunned look and reached out to help her up.

“You had a knife since the beginning?! Why didn’t you use it sooner?!” she asked as she grabbed his hand and got up.

He rapidly studied her. Taller than him (of course) and the boys who picked on him, she had curly blonde hair falling on her shoulders and going all over the place. Her very light green eyes were staring back at him without blinking. She also seemed to judge what she had in front of her but not critically, like many people, she was simply observing. Other than that, she joined an altercation that didn’t concerned her to do what probably felt right to her. Like giving back a hit he took. She even scratched her elbow during her fall but didn’t looked worried about it. He decided to trust her. He bent the knife’s blade, which came back into place with a jolt when he let go.

“It’s plastic,” he said. “It was only in case I’d lose control of the situation and I wasn’t even a 100% sure it’d work.” He took a band-aid out of his pocket and offered it to the girl. “Here, for your elbow.” She took it, still looking at him as if he was an alien.

“Well your bluff was really convincing,” she declared while putting the band-aid on the small injury.

“And you, why did you intervene to help me?”

“I already said it earlier,” she answered before gently smiling at him. “And my little sister had a pretty hairdo at the end of class.” She turned to the entrance of the alleyway and called. “Jess! You can come now if you want!”

The girl whose hair he had styled at school cautiously entered the alley. Now he understood why the one who helped him looked familiar.

“We heard screaming and when we looked, Jessie told me it was you who’ve done her hair,” she continued to explain. “So I was even less about to leave you alone against them. Thanks for being nice to her and defending me by the way. I’m Justine.”

“Charlie,” he introduced himself. “And thank you for coming to help me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Justine smiled. “If it' not intrusive, can I ask you if you are a girl or a boy?”

Charlie felt again the corner of his lips go up slightly and a warm sensation fill him. “A boy. But I think I like girl hairstyles.”

“I can see that," she said, giving his hair an approving look. “Speaking of which, where did you learn to do this one?”

“I learned by myself.”

“You know how to do braids?” Jessie timidly asked as she finally came out of her silence.

“Never tried,” he answered, already starting to think about how it could be done.

“We can teach you if you want,” Justine enthusiastically offered.

Charlie felt the corner of his lips go up a little more.

“I would like to.”

********************************

Things got better at school. The boys spread the word about the knife and there were far fewer of them wanting to mess with him. When it reached the teacher’s ears, he requested to see him in private to explain himself. When he learned about the toy, he couldn’t help but laugh a little and promised to keep the secret on its nature. He also tried to know who was bullying him but there were too many people that did it for him to remember all of them, and he asked his teacher to leave it after thanking him. And anyway, some of these children started to treat him differently, more kindly, even apologising for their their former behavior and trying to know him better. They were girls most of the time but there were a few boys too, and all were interested in the way he did his hair. More and more, he was asked to do hair sessions during the breaks, which protected him from potential altercations and pleased him more and more.

He obviously became friends with Jessie and Justine who clung to him at the end of class to protect him outside the school and invited him at their house when they could. They shared hairstyling techniques or tried new ones and it became more and more obvious that Charlie was skilled. He was starting to imagine himself as a hairdresser as an adult. Another thing they liked to do was “parades”. Because actually, he didn't only like girl's hairstyles. And Jessie, who was still shy but not so much with him and even less at home, had kept all her clothes since she was a little girl, so she had a number of clothes in Charlie's size. On top of trying to sew new ones. And she was also pretty good at makeup. He liked these two girls very much, one a bit rough, the other shy, both frank, who never laughed at him but always with him. Their mother, a tired but smiling single woman, was also very kind and welcomed him with pleasure.

Yes, Charlie had never felt happier in his life. He never thought his strategy would be so beneficial. That he wouldn’t have to worry about getting hit at school anymore. That he would fit in. That he’s had friends one day. All of this had really seemed inconceivable. He was different so it was normal to be treated differently, right? He was happy to have been wrong to think that. Everything was going so well at school. And he had a refuge now, where he could be who he was without judgment.

Because at home, he still had to hide. At home, the situation wasn’t changing. His insufferable, spoiled rotten, little half-sister was at best ignoring him, at worst accused him of things he hadn’t done (often stupid things she had done). His stepmother mostly ignored him too, didn’t say anything or merely appeased her daughter (often with gifts and treats). His father was almost never there because of his work and Charlie didn’t complain about it. He never accepted the fact that his first child would never be a normal boy and generally couldn’t stand to see him. He often just ignored him himself, focusing all his attention and affection on his daughter. Charlie had better not stand out too much anyway, otherwise he would receive violent reprimands for no reason, or even beatings when he was really angry and/or drunk.

He therefore always made sure to undo his hair and tie them in a low and discreet ponytail or under a cap. He dared not imagine what might happen if his father saw how he was at school. Fortunately, the other children’s parents avoided his as much as possible (for diverse reasons) and he was not picked up from school for a long time. So he was safe. His secret would remain well kept.

Until this fateful day.

*********************************

Charlie was walking out of school with Justine and Jessie, convincing them again that it was better to go at their home because of his insufferable half-sister when he saw a figure he knew all too well a dozen of feet away. He froze and his usually calm mind went all over the place with panic. Why was his father here? He never came to pick him up! Did he already see him? Maybe not. Or perhaps he did not recognize him! Maybe he could pretend he needed to go to the bathroom and go back inside before his father recognized him…

The look of his father fixed on him belied it. And clearly ordered him to come join him and quickly. Charlie gulped and gave up any attempt to escape. Even if his father didn’t see him, what could he really have done? His behavior would have seemed strange to the girl if he went to the bathroom, even more if he came back with a different hairstyle, and his father would have noticed that a girl with the same clothes as his son went there before his son came out of it.

He looked down, mumbled an apology that he actually had to go and left, saying goodbye to Justine and Jessie without looking back. He could feel the two sister’s bemused and worried looks in his back and the burning one from his father before him but he couldn’t bring himself to look at them all, neither the sisters nor him.

Once alongside him, his father left without a word and Charlie followed him in silence. Now, he had no strategy, his mind was turning aimlessly, unable to hold onto a clear idea. He had no clue why his father was there and dreaded thinking about what was going to happen. Too many new unexpected parameters, not enough data and not the head in condition to analyse everything. His panic increased a little more with each step that brought them closer to home. He felt like a lamb lead to the slaughterhouse.

They eventually arrived. His father opened the door and kept it open, waiting for him to go in. He had an itching desire to run away but his legs pulled him forward into the house. His father slamed the door shut behind him. He started and braced himself for the storm.

“Do yo know why I came pick you up today?” his father asked, still turned towards the door.

Charlie gulped and pressed his lips together. He must not talk. His father wasn’t really asking the question, he would answer it himself.

“People have been looking at me strangely at work for a while now,” his father said, slowly turning on the side to stare at the hall wall. “I couldn’t understand why but I heard an interesting conversation a few hours ago. Apparently, a colleague’s son had his hand broken some weeks ago by a brat with a knife. It is also said that this brat is pretending to be a girl.”

Charlie began to quiver and staid silent.

“At first, I wondered what kind of kid would do that and why they would let him walk around in a school with a knife. Then I remembered how Stacy complained to have lost a dinette knife and a hair ribbon, some weeks ago. And I thought back about your surprisingly long hair lately.”

Charlie started to tremble more. His father turned completely towards him and looked at him with immeasurable disdain and disgust.

“You really couldn't be normal, huh?” he hissed as he took a heavy step towards him. “You don’t just stay a useless brat, you steal from your sister, play the delinquent and dress up as a girl.”

He took another step and Charlie instinctively stepped back.

“What’s your problem?” A step. “You wish you were a girl?” Another step. “You're actually jealous of your sister, aren't you?”

Charlie continued to back away slowly, shaking like a leaf and holding back tears of fear.

“You're really just a good-for-nothing. No talent, no future.”

“I do, in the hairstyling," Charlie accidentally mumbled. It slipped out on its own, without warning. A violent slap made him see double. Being cute didn’t reduce the force of the hits this time.

“What’s this bullshit now?” his father growled. “You really think you’ll do anything of your life with that?! Don’t make me laugh! As if anyone would want a degenerate like you!”

“My friends,” Charlie let out again, very low.

Another slap sent him against a wall.

“Say, you got some nerve to answer back like that! And you mean those two girls you were hanging out with? I bet they only stick to you because they think you’re a girl. You must be so happy they fell for it.”

“No, they know I’m a boy,” Charlie replied this time with an unexpected burst of will.

His father grabbed his hair and pulled it to force him up.

“You know, I really don’t like this new attitude?” he softly said with a frightening glint in the eyes. “What if we cut those hair a little? It really doesn’t suit you and maybe you’ll stop playing smart after this.”

Charlie felt his blood drop to his feet. Terror invaded him and he tried to break free of the grip that was pulling his hair. His father dragged him to the kitchen where he picked up a pair of scissors. He struggled with more desperation but he just wasn't strong enough.

“No! Don’t do it!” he begged with tears in his eyes as he saw the scissors come closer.

“What is happening here?!” a horrified woman’s voice asked.

Charlie turned his head to see his stepmother who had just returned, holding Stacy's hand that she had just brought home.

“What are you doing right here?” she asked her husband again in a toneless voice, her eyes darting back and forth between her husband and the scissors.

“Hey! It’s my ribbon!” his half-sister complained when she saw said ribbon in Charlie’s hair.

The latter, taking advantage of the general confusion, quickly slid his backpack off his shoulders and threw it in his father's face. His hair was released and he ran away in the first room that was on his way. It was fortunately the bathroom which had a bolt on the door and he locked himself inside. Just before his father tried enter too. Charlie, his breathing ragged and tears rolling down his cheeks, watched the handle move and jerk and he flinched when loud knocks hit the door.

“You brat! Let me in!” his father shouted from the other side.

“Honey, stop! You’re scaring your daughter!” his stepmother tried to calm him.

“Sorry if I’m being scary Stacy, but daddy has to deal with this degenerated kid,” his father softly said before yelling at the door. “You hear me?! Wait until I get in, you’re going to get the biggest thrashing of your life!”

Charlie didn’t think. He had no idea if the door was going to hold out but he didn’t want to stay to find out. He had to get out of here. Immediately.

He raced to the window, opened it and climbed as fast as possible to get out. He didn’t fall gently to the ground but quickly got up and ran straight ahead, towards the forest bordering the village. His father could try to enter by the window so he had to get as far away as possible.

He entered the forest and continued to run with only one thought in mind: to put some distance between that damned house and himself. He ran for a long time without knowing where he was going, without thinking for a moment, simply avoiding the trees and wiping his eyes when they filled with tears.

He eventually realized that the light was fading and slowed down to finally look around. The sky was turning orange and he could see a clearing in front of him. He headed toward it and found himself facing the entrance to a cave on the other side of a small clearing dotted with trees.

He then realized that he was in the mountains, all alone, at dusk, with no idea of the path he had taken to get there. And to top it all, he certainly was at Mount Ebott, from where no one returned according to the legends.

He didn’t think. He should have run in the street to be seen by people and ask for help. He should have taken refuge at Justine and Jessie's. No one would think to look for him here. Panic had made him do nonsense.

He took several breathed to calm himself down. Then really analyzed the situation. He didn't know how long he had been running, so he didn't know how far he had run, but it would be dark soon so it was better to wait until morning before trying to return to the village. To return to Justine and Jessie. Because there was no reason for him not to come back.

What did he have with him? Just his clothes, the ribbon in his hair, the plastic knife and band-aids in his pockets. His bag with his snack stayed in the house. He had no knowledge of the forest so he wouldn’t try to eat berries he didn’t know. Hunger wasn’t his primary concern anyway. He had to go through the night. For that, he needed a shelter and something to keep warm. Leafy branches could eventually serve as a blanket. For the shelter, the answer was obviously in front of him but it was still necessary to ensure that the cave was unoccupied.

He entered cautiously and silently, watching for the slightest sound that would signal an animal presence. The cave was spacious, dry, not very deep and apparently inhabited. Undoubtedly because of the large hole in the ground at the bottom. Continuing to advance with one hand against the wall, he felt strange rough edges under his fingers. He looked with curiosity and saw engravings painted with slightly faded ochre colors. He withdrew his hand, fearing to damage them, and took a closer look.

He could make out a human simply drawn in a long poncho and holding a spear in his hand. This engraving must have been quite old if they were still using spears at that time. Next to the human was another figure with rather animal-like paws, long floppy ears and small horns on his head, wearing a tunic with a symbol consisting of a circle framed by small wings and three triangles underneath. It seemed to him that he had seen this symbol before in a book of stories and legends. Notably legends about monsters.

He looked at the next engraving featuring two groups, one of humans, the other of what were definitely monsters of all shapes, facing each other as they held out weapons. A war. The last scene showed a mass of unarmed monsters dominated by the human army. One of them was holding a shining scepter towards the monsters.

Charlie wondered what that could mean. He turned his head to the side and realized that, in his contemplation, he had come dangerously close to the hole. He didn’t have time to react as his foot slipped on little stones and he fell in the gaping maw of the earth.

Chapter Text

“You know what they say about Mont Ebott, Charlie?” Jessie asked as she braided his ribbon in his hair to try a new style.

“That anyone going there never comes back?” he distractedly suggested as he studied the colored scarfs under his eyes.

“Yes but did you know that some very old legend also talk about monsters that inhabited it?” Justine questioned this time while trying to tame her golden shock of hair with the help of her mother.

“Hmm. No, it doesn’t ring a bell,” he admitted, deciding to try the pink scarf.

“They say that all imaginable monsters lived a looong time ago,” Jessie told as she started to put makeup on him. “They would even have mixed with the humans of this era.”

“Of course they mixed with us otherwise there wouldn’t be any legends,” commented Justine fighting with a lock of hair from which she was trying to extract her brush.

“Why is that?” Charlie asked, closing his eyes so that Jess could apply makeup on them.

“’Cause they all ended up disappearing,” the youngest answered. “They were here and one day, poof! Nobody!”

“And since then, Mont Ebott would be cursed,” the oldest completed.

“Interesting this explanation,” Charlie pensively said before glancing to himself into a little mirror. “Hmm, I think you put a little too many blush on me, Jess.”

“I think too,” the latter winced as she took a clean cotton to brush off the surplus. “But some say that the monsters still live somewhere around here, well hidden.”

“Is that something some parents tell children to be good?” he guessed before looking again in the mirror. “It’s better. Your turn. Monsters do not exist anyway.”

“Is this my cue to tell that I’ve already seen one before?” then asked the girls’ daughter with a little smile.

Charlie nearly dropped his comb with surprise.

“For real?!”

The two sisters snorted with laughter.

“You should see your face,” Justine chuckled.

“All right, you really got me there,” Charlie admitted with an amused sigh as he combed again Jessie’s long and wavy black hair.

“It was indeed pretty funny,” the mother softly laughed while running the brush now easily through Justine’s hair. “But that’s also true. I really saw a monster when I was a little girl.”

Charlie looked at her, then her daughters, to make sure it was a joke, but no one was laughing this time. Justine slightly nodded her head in confirmation.

“The legend about Mont Ebott is also true,” the mother affirmed with a sad smile, memories darkening her green eyes. “There was a child that disappeared there when I was young. This child liked a lot to wander in the surrounding forest, to watch animals and take care of the village’s flowers. The other children would constantly bully them, so school wasn’t their favorite place and I have to admit I never had the guts to try and help them.”

The mother's smile took a hint of bitterness certainly directed at herself.

“And I think it wasn't much better at home. My mother, she was in the police, kept an eye on their parents as best as she could but she couldn't watch them 24 hours a day. I still remember how they would smile and laugh all the time, like nothing could get to them but you had to see their eyes sometimes… I recall for example when some forest's trees were cut down how they was affected. Their smile was emptier and you would often find them in the golden flowers garden.”

Charlie glanced at the vase filled with said flowers on the table.

“Then it seemed to get better. I learned later that they found a baby squirrel that fell from one of the cut trees and took care of it in secret. But it didn't last. Children that bullied them found the animal and had fun with it. The squirrel didn't bear it and didn't survive. I heard about it after the child had attacked the culprits at school. I've never seen anyone with as much hate in their eyes than this child this day, still smiling and laughing despite everything. After this, they ran away to Mount Ebott.”

The tired woman took a moment of silence and pushed a strand of her black hair streaked with gray back from her face. Justine, who now had two low pigtails, and Jessie, whom Charlie had finished styling, were equally silent. Their mother turned her gaze to him.

“You must be wondering what all this has to do with the monsters we were talking about,” she continued. "This child hasn't been find back. But they was seen again. In a monster's arms."

Charlie unconsciously held his breath.

“No one ever talks about it, like it never happened. But two or three years after their disappearance, a tall humanoid horned creature, with a white fur and pointy teeth, came out of the forest and entered the village. This monster put down something in the golden flowers garden. It was the child body. Every adult that could then attacked it, with weapons when they had some. It eventually ran away, taking back the body with it. And it never appeared again.”

Charlie stayed silent, assimilating everything the two girls' mother just related.

“It had killed the child?” he finally dared to ask.

“That's what everyone thought or chose to believe.”

“But in that case, why take the trouble and risk to bring the body to the village? It doesn't make sense.”

The mother gave him a smile, her green eyes staring at him with sadness. “It’s thanks to this question that no one ever talks about it but that I told the story to my daughters. I didn't precise it but I actually was in the garden when it happened. I saw the monster up close. There was no aggressiveness in their movements, they lied the body gently and respectfully. It looked like a last tribute to a dear person. And the child had grown up. They must had died pretty recently.”

“So this child would have lived until then with this monster?”

“It's possible,” the girls' mother answered as she shrugged. “In any case, I don't think they killed them. Because they saw me, hidden behind a tree. And they didn't attack me. Yet if they had wanted, they clearly could have torn me apart. And above all, they didn't try to attack anyone, even though everyone was hurting them. They simply smiled, picked up the body and protected it as they left.”

She breathed in and sighed as she gently rubbed the top of Justine's head.

“What I learned from this, is to not remain inactive in front of others' suffering, it never solves anything; and most importantly to never judge people too quickly. Because you could hurt good folks like that.”

Charlie assimilated this new information. All this story was tragic. So many bad things could have been avoided at different moment. He understood better the lack of judgment and inactivity from the two sisters. Their mother was right. It was a good story to pass on. Then his critical mind made him notice something.

“Wait, nothing tells me that everything you told is veracious. I only have your word.”

“You're right,” the mother conceded, “and I won't try to convince you that it is. It's up to you to believe it or not. What matters are the lessons it provides you.”

“Anyway, we believe you mom,” Jessie assured as she embraced her sister.

“As for me, I'll think about it,” Charlie said with a smile before getting up. “By the way, I think it's time for me to go back home.”

He took off the pink scarf as well as bracelets Jessie also lent to him.

“Do you want me to take you there?” the mother offered.

“It's kind of you but no thanks, do not bother,” he refused, heading towards the door.

He would have to remove his makeup and undo his hair, and he didn't want her to ask questions or worry.

“You're sure? But you fell from very high, really,” Justine pointed out.

He stopped and frowned.

“What?”

“Come back to see us when you'll get up,” Jessie smiled to him.

“Wake up,” their mother finished.

************************

Charlie laboriously opened his eyes and gold flooded his vision. He stood up with difficulty, his weak muscles barely supporting his own weight and petals fall from his hair. He was lying in a bed of golden flowers. In cave with dark rocks tending to purplish. With pillars of the same color that were starting to erode against the walls. It didn't look like the cave he had found. He remembered the hole and that he…

He looked up to the ceiling. The sunlight was coming from very high to light him. He then asked himself two questions. The first: for how long had he been unconscious if the sun was now up? The second: how could he even be still alive to see it? Such a height would already be fatal for anyone. With his fragile bones, it should have been his ticket for the afterlife. Yet as he checked himself, he didn't see any injury. He was aching, yes, but not the slightest scratch, not the slightest broken bone to report. It was impossible. It was a miracle. No, because it wasn't flowers that would cushion such a fall.

He left the question aside to focus on his biggest problem: to get out of this hole. He would never be able to climb up the walls so what did he have left? He saw that the cave was extended into a corridor on the side. He didn't have a better option so he went there. At the end was a passage framed with two columns carved in the rock and topped with a slab in which was engraved the symbol of the circle, the wings and the triangles. Weird. Did it mean people lived here? Inside of the mountain? If it was the case, there probably was an exit somewhere further on.

On the other side was a new cavity illuminated only in its center with a ray of light from a crack in the ceiling, allowing to a tuft of grass to grow there. On the opposite side was a passageway similar to the one he had just passed, this time made of purple rock and with doors. He went and pushed them and a lukewarm breeze ruffled his face.

He found himself in a room with a smooth floor and brick walls of purple stone. It was lit in he-didn't-know-what way but he could see well. Symmetric stairs joined a platform where a new door was, topped with a slab with unreadable inscriptions and what resembled ivy falling around it. Red dead leaves where disposed in a square at the center of the room and others formed a carpet between the stairs. He moved a leaf with his foot. It wasn't fixed on the ground. So someone carefully arranged them like this. As unlikely as it seemed, there were people here! This discovery gave him renewed hope.

A golden glint brought his attention back to the stairs. A strong golden light, like a star, just appeared in front of the carpet of dead leaves. This, was even weirder than the surprising luminosity of the room, the purple stone and his non-deadly fall. He carefully approached and reach out towards it. As the star wasn’t hot, contrary to what he would have thought, he touched it and a warming feeling filled him. He felt full of energy and his aching soothed. He didn’t know what just happened but it was really weird. He decided to go and see the rest before his head could explode with questions.

Tough luck, the next room didn’t reduce the number of questions, quite the opposite. Six flagstones were emerging from the ground on the right. Knowing the adventure stories in ancient ruins, he bewared of them and stayed on the lighter stone path that bypassed them to go to the double-wing door, engraved with the same symbol he was seeing since the beginning. On his right was what looked like a switch and, on his left, a gray slab with inscriptions. “Only the fearless may proceed. Brave ones, foolish ones. Both walk not the middle road.” Strange message.

He tried to open the door which turned out locked. He tried to press the switch but it only produced an inconsequential “click”. He touched a flagstone to see. It was moving so he pushed it as he braced for the worst. Just a “click”. The door wasn’t opening yet. He tried again the switch. A new “click” and the flagstone emerged again. He then guessed what this was: a puzzle. Exactly like in the adventure fictions. He had to find which flagstones should be pushed to unlock the doors. The inscription should be a hint. “Both walk not the middle road”… There were two “central” flags out of the six. He walked on the four others, each time producing a “click”, before he pressed again the switch. This time the doors opened.

So it really was a puzzle. Interesting. And surprising for it to be in this direction. Were the unfortunate like him, or intruders, frowned on? He decided to stay more on the lookout. In the new room was a new puzzle solely with switches this time (and easier). Only here, there were two parallel streams that crossed the room coming out of the walls and passing under wooden bridges, and what prevented him from going further was this time metal spikes coming out of the ground and blocking the exit. This time no doubt, visitors from outside were not welcomed.

Once the puzzle solved, the spikes retracted, giving him access to a small room with what resembled deformed dummies, sometimes blackened and often restitched. It was open so he didn't linger too long and entered a new empty room. He looked for a mechanism without finding one and noticed the strange curves the path formed on the ground. He spotted a new clue plate in the back hallway and went to look at it... to find himself face to face with a white frog that was half his size.

He screamed and jumped backwards, brandishing his plastic knife as everything suddenly turned to black around him. A light blue heart appeared just in front of his chest and he screamed again with fear and surprise. When he saw that nothing was trying to attack him, he examined the floating heart with curiosity. Slightly glowing, it seemed to move along with him, as if they were connected.

The frog, or at least it looked like one, had a pair of black eyes with a white pupil on his head and a second pair of normal eyes on its black tummy above another small mouth. He wondered what kind of mutations could have happened to this creature and if this place was the cause. In which case, he really didn’t want to discover what staying would do to him. Then another possibility came to his mind. A monster. The girls had talked about it at their home once and their mother had seemed to suggest that they could be not as monstrous as they seemed. He felt stupid to have doubted her story now.

The frog didn’t move from its place, seemingly waiting for something. If it wanted to attack him, it probably would have done so already. He could try to flee but he decided to attempt to act. To talk with the creature.

“Huh, hello? My name is Charlie.”

The frog croaked, tilted its head to the side and he shockingly distinguished the incomprehension in its features. He never imagined he would see a frog expressing emotion. This instant of distraction made him see too late it was going to jump. When he saw it leap at him, he froze with dread and only managed to move when it crashed on him.

A tremendous pain.

The heart broke.

Then the void.

******************

Was he dead? No that couldn’t be possible. He couldn’t die like that! Right?

“You want to go to our house Charlie?” he suddenly heard Justine's voice ask.

“I have a new outfit idea for you,” Jessie's voice echoed.

“It’s up to you,” their mother's voice said.

He felt something burn in him. No, he didn’t want to die. He refused to die. He wanted to see them again. He had to come back!

*******************

He was standing with his hand in the golden star between the stairs of the first purple room. He pulled back his hand to palpate his body. He was alive?! Did he dream?

He cautiously went in the next room. Everything was the same way he found it, the inscription, the closed door, the flagstones… if he had dreamt, he had well predicted what he was going to see. He solved the puzzle again, then the next, walked past the dummies and moved with extreme care in the following room, the plastic knife ready, watching out for the giant frog. He still started when it jumped in front of him.

Everything went black again, the cyan heart reappeared, and the monster didn’t try to attack him. Not yet. Charlie was shaking. He remembered the pain he felt when it crushed him. He didn’t want to go through this again. He breathed deeply to calm down. He was going to try and intimidate it this time.

“Let me pass or you’ll have to deal with me,” he said in a menacing tone, the knife pointed at the creature in a confident attitude.

The frog looked perplexed again. Did it at least understand what he was saying?! But it also looked afraid. Intimidation seemed to work pretty well this t-

The frog leapt at him. He screamed in terror and swung his arm with the knife as he ducked. He heard a plaintive croak and opened his eyes again just in time to see the frog turn into dust.

The room regained its colors and his eyes remained fixed on the white particles mingled with gold coins on the floor. Did he… just kill a monster with a plastic knife? He was feeling bad. Very bad. He didn’t think a knife could do so much damages. He didn’t think he could do so much damages. He felt something weird grow in him but he wasn’t able to know what. He collected the gold coins then promptly wiped the dust on his hands, all with immense guilt. But you never knew. It could be useful.

He felt that he was not far from cracking. There too much things happening too quickly for him. He would rather have had more time to digest them little by little because now he was having indigestion. And when he saw the rows of spikes further on, blocking a bridge over a large body of water, he really thought he was going to cry. Why was it happening to him? He just wanted a normal life. Go back to his village.

He thought to himself that maybe the best solution was to wait for a moment. Perhaps he was being sought and would be found? In any case, he had to take a break. He had a vague supposition on how to pass to the other side but he didn’t want to risk his life anyway with the metal spikes, and he may well know how to swim, after the frog he bewared of the water. He settled down against a wall, between and well away from the dust and the puzzle.

He just sat there, focusing on his breathing to soothe it before repeating in his head what happened until here more calmly to methodically analyze it and find answers or at least plan strategies.

He didn’t know since how long he was there when he heard voices. They were coming from the hallway on the other side of the spikes.

“Are you really sure it was a human child you saw, Borsta?” a worried woman’s voice asked.

“Oh noooo, it’s been soooo long since I’ve seen one it completely disappeared from my memories Queen…” a monotone voice full of sarcasm that must be Borsta answered.

Charlie first thought of hiding himself, then decided to wait and see the comers.

“I am sorry I doubted you and please stop calling me that,” the one that wasn’t named Queen sighed.

“Aye-aye Queen,” Borsta replied with still as much sarcasm.

The heart beating, Charlie watched a tall horned figure and a kinda oval form floating alongside appear in the hallway.

“You really have a gift for annoying people, you know Borsta?” ‘Queen’ pointed out. They seemed to be the monster of the first engraving he saw on the surface coming to life. “We have to quick find this child, they must feel so lost here-”

The monster stopped as they saw him and opened wide eyes. They, or rather she, had a head that resembled a little a white goat with long floppy ears. A fang came out of each side of her muzzle, her… arms were ending with paws almost like hands rather than hoofs, and she wore a purple tunic sporting the mysterious symbol of this place. Her comrade turned out to be a ghost from a children’s book. A simple white flying sheet with eyes and a mouth. A sheet with an extremely jaded look.

“My child,” the goat called with a motherly voice, “do not be afraid of anything, we are coming to help you.”

She then rushed in the spiked and it was Charlie’s turn to open wide eyes. She was gonna impale herself! Much to his surprise, she moved forward easily, zigzagging, and once in front of him, he understood w she did it: the spikes retracted when she stepped on them. The ghost just floated slowly above.

The goat monster gently kneeled before him and offered him a surprisingly warm smile despite her pointed fangs.

“Greetings, my child, I am Toriel, guardian of the Ruins,” she introduced herself.

“Charlie,” Charlie introduced himself in a murmur and still didn’t move as he waited to see what would happen.

“What is this dust?” Borsta asked with a less monotone tone and without sarcasm in front of the white powder.

“Sorry,” Charlie piteously apologized, feeling guilty and ashamed tears go up to his eyes. “It wasn’t on purpose… I just wanted to defend myself against this giant frog and it…”

Big silence. Eyes down, he thought he heard the ghost sigh “Those Froggits…” in an exasperated and bored tone before catch sight of them leave by going through a wall.

“I am the one who apologize,” Toriel then said, “I try to instill in everyone here not to attack the humans but it is often complicated… And I should have been here sooner. I go every day to see the golden flowers but I was late today. I am sorry you had to face all this alone. It must have been hard.”

Charlie sniffled and nodded. It was sure that dying and accidentally killing a monster was not easy to live.

“Are you hungry? I could take you to my house and make you something," Toriel offered. He strangely wasn’t that hungry but he nodded. Toriel got up and reached out her paw to him. “Take my hand, I will guide you through this puzzle.”

He looked a moment the white fur covered paw before taking it and getting up. The goat monster lead him through the frightening metal spikes. Toriel then released him and he half regretted it – her paw was warm and soft. She continued to guide him in the purple rooms as she kept with a severe look the other little monsters away – insects, frog, cyclops… She also made conversation with him, obviously trying to make him think of something else. She reminded him a little of his friends’ mother with her maternal attitude. Except that she seemed to like to make puns from time to time. And also that she was a monster. She also seemed to be thinking about something.

“Tell me, do you prefer butterscotch or cinnamon?” she finally asked.

“Butterscotch,” Charlie answered, thinking back to when Justine introduced him to it.

“All right thank you, but you do not dislike cinnamon either?”

“I don’t think so…” he cogitated as he remembered the few times he ate some. “Why?”

“You will know soon enough,” Toriel eluded with a wink.

There wasn’t any new puzzle until now but, entering a new room, he didn’t like the cracks he saw on the floor in the middle. There were two opening in the wall on each size of these cracks.

“Ah, I am sorry Charlie, I suppose you will not be thrilled about it but to get to the other side, you will have to fall through the floor,” Toriel announced with an apologetic look. “But worry not, it is not dangerous, there is a thick layer of leaves to cushion beneath.”

“Why isn’t there a bridge to avoid that?” Charlie asked, really reluctant to experience any more falls after the one that landed him here.

“Well, to be honest, the floor of this room is a bridge, but with a construction error that we cannot seem to fix,” the goat monster explained and laughed a little. “And I can assure you that we tried for a long time.”

Ok, as strange as it was, at least there was an explanation.

“I am going to show you,” Toriel softly said him upon his apprehension.

She advanced to the cracked floor, stepped on it and was swallowed by the earth. Charlie couldn’t help but be overcome with worry and went to look through the hole. The monster waved at him from below, far below, and there indeed were piles of red dead leaves.

He sighed in relief, then remembered he had to do the same. He really didn’t like the idea. He already fell one time from a similar height and broke several bones. What was telling him there were enough leaves to prevent that? It could be that monsters didn’t have a skeleton and thus nothing to break when falling. He watched at all the cracked area. It looked like it had been made with wet sand and split as it dried. Maybe he could jump over it? With enough run-up, he might be able to do it.

He decided to give it a try. He went back to the entrance, readied himself and threw himself towards this unstable floor. He jumped before touching the fragile part. And he almost made it to the other side. He felt his panic shoot up as he felt the ground give way beneath him. And even more as he saw the dead leaves coming closer. No, no, no! He was gonna crash! He didn’t want to! He closed his eyes, thinking about how much he’d like to try again.

*********************

He was standing with his hand in the golden star between the stairs of the first room of the Ruins. What the…?! He was back again? But he didn’t die this time, right? What was the matter with this star? That wasn’t normal. Then he thought to himself that nothing was normal anymore in a world of monsters. Including him evidently. He didn’t know what was the matter with this star but it obviously made something to him.

He went and cast a glance at the next room. The door was closed once again and the puzzle rebooted. He reached into his pocket and only found the band-aids that always followed him. The gold coins he collected had disappeared. He went back down the stairs and sat in the dead leaves, his back against the wall, the star facing him, to reflect. If it simply gave him the… power? - he didn’t see any other word to use – to come back here, he would still have the coins with him. And it certainly wouldn’t have work when he died. No, he must have traveled through space but also in time. He must have come back to the exact moment he touched the star.

If that was the case, then Toriel didn’t come yet. She did said she had to come here but that she was late, isn’t it? So if he waited there, he would eventually see her arrive. He thought it was the best thing to do. She could probably explain more things to him, or he could ask her more questions, and he wouldn’t be alone in front of the frog.

Then he realized what he just thought. The frog (or Froggit as Borsta called it). If he had rewound time, then it wasn’t dead! He felt relieved. But he still felt bad. Maybe it was alive again but it didn’t erased the fact that he did killed it one time. He had the ability to do so. He had to be very careful about what he was doing if he could do it with a dinette knife. He could ask information and advice to Toriel when she’d come.

Now that he was thinking about it, if he really went back in time, did it mean she wouldn’t know him? Since they didn’t meet yet? But on the other side, if he remembered, maybe she did too. He hoped so. He couldn’t tell if the Froggit seemed to have memories of their first meeting or not. A shiver ran through him at the thought that the frog also remembered what happened. He knew what it felt like to die and he would have greatly preferred to forget this moment. Just like the one when he killed it. Maybe he’d rather be the only one to remember that case. He would see what would happen anyway.

He observed the room in details while waiting. The walls had numerous little cracks, attesting to their ancientness. After all, Toriel did say she was the guardian of the Ruins . He was wondering if it really was the name of this place. A strange choice really for the only place were monsters lived. He was curious to know the monsters’ history now. Another question for Toriel.

He was also wondering what was currently going on in the village. Was he looked for? Justine and Jessie surely must have noticed his absence at school by now. Was the police going to see his father? Would people find out what kind of parent he was with him? Would he not have to worry about him anymore? Or would he on the contrary be in troubles?

A little squeak and a rustle of leaves besides him brought him out of his thoughts. A mouse just went out a cracks beneath the stairs and headed in his direction between the leaves. It looked like a perfectly normal gray mouse. But, as he didn’t make any movement to not frighten it, it stopped and its eyes stared at him with intelligence. It wasn’t a normal mouse.

“Hello?” he tried, hoping it really was a monster and not a common animal.

The mouse stood on its back legs and greeted him with a wave of paw before making another squeak. So it really was a monster.

“You live here?” he asked.

The mouse nodded and pointed its snout towards the wall. The it stared at him and tilted its head on the side with an interrogative glint in its eyes. It obviously couldn't talk but knew how to make itself understood.

“I fell here by accident last night,” he explained before sighing, “because I was acting in a haste. I didn’t have the time to think and didn’t really took it after, which made me do mistakes. So I’d rather think for now before making anything I could regret. And it is quite clear that someone comes regularly to take care of this place so I’m waiting for them.”

The mouse nodded comprehensively and sat against the wall besides him. He giggled without joy as he thought about what his rushed actions made him do again.

“It really isn’t my thing to react fast, what I need is time to watch hings and develop strategies. And then, when its the right moment, then I can take action!”

The mouse that seemed to attentively listen to me, nodded its snout again with an approving squeak. This time, he chuckled with amusement.

“I never thought I would ever reflect on myself with a mouse.”

There were several things he would never believe before today upon reflection. And he was surely not at the end of his surprises.

The mouse suddenly ran away and disappeared in the cracks through which it had come. He waited a little but it didn’t came out again. Too bad, he was starting to appreciate this little monster. Perhaps he offended it one way or another…

He looked again at the golden star in front of him, a little put out. Then frowned. Was it him or was it a little dimmer?

He then heard muffled steps behind him and looked up to try and see who just entered, without success. He remained silent, waiting to see who would go down the stairs and if he had to hide or not. The white paws and purple tunic made him sigh in relief. When the goat monster reached the bottom, he coughed to get his attention. Toriel started and turned to him. When she saw him, her face showed a mix of surprise, shock and disbelief.

“Oh well! I was not expecting this!”

She walked up to him, passing through the star as if it wasn’t here to Charlie’s great surprise, who opened his eyes wide with surprise.

“Ah, do not be afraid, my child,” Toriel said as she gave him a reassuring smile, seeming to misinterpret his expression. “I am Toriel, guardian of the Ruins. I pass everyday to take care of the golden flowers and see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first human to come here in a very long time.”

“I am Charlie,” he introduced himself in turn as he mentally took notes.

She clearly didn’t seem to remember him. And she presented herself practically the same way but said some other interesting things. He didn’t necessarily listened to what she told him before but he was positive she didn’t mention coming here to see if people had fallen down. And she d he was the first human here in a long time. It could very much imply he wasn’t the first one at all. At least one human had already fallen down here and now Toriel regularly came to check if it was the case again. He had a little idea of the identity of the previous human.

“Pleased to meet you,” Toriel smiled to him. “Follow me! I will guide you in the Underground.”

That she already mentioned, the name of these places under the mountain. The goat monster passed again through the star and Charlie then noticed that, though it shined normally again, it didn’t light up anything. He tried to touch it again. It wasn’t exactly solid but there still was some kind of resistance. He felt again overwhelmed with warmth and energy at its contact. He stared another short moment at this intriguing star. Then he went and caught up with Toriel who was patiently waiting at the door.

Chapter Text

Toriel did the following room’s puzzle while explaining he had to get used to see them all over the place. When he asked the question, she informed him that they did reset after someone’s passing, which explained why it wasn’t already solved even thought she left it barely minutes ago. He raised an eyebrow in the next room when he saw she marked with yellow the switches he had to press after asking him to turn his back. He was starting to notice how much Toriel was acting in a maternal way and he wondered if it had to do with him looking so young or if there was another reason.

He expected them to go through the dummies room without pausing but, to his surprise, Toriel held him back.

“Things work differently for the monsters than they do for you humans, including FIGHTs,” she informed him. “And as a human, I am afraid that you risk being attacked by monsters. Stall for time if this happens, by talking for example, and I will come to end the conflict. You can train with one of the dummies.”

He slightly raised an eyebrow. Train to… Talk? With a dummy? Seeing as she looked serious, he approached the nearer, the one she was showing him. Funny, it almost seemed like it had a jaded look. He started when everything went black and the cyan heart appeared before him.

“Hum, Toriel?” he called, a freezing feeling running through him with bad memories. “What’s happening? Why has everything gone black? … And white?” he added, noticing that Toriel who seemed far away and the dummy before him had no longer colors.

“It happens that Queen apparently don’t know how to explain the basics,” a monotone voice coming from the dummy sighed as it seemed to roll its button eyes, to Charlie’s great surprise. “Who wanted to be a teacher in another life already?”

“I already told you not to call me like that anymore, Borsta,” Toriel said and gave the dummy a severe look. “And I was precisely about to explain him-”

“And think about checking out if a ghost is possessing a dummy next time,” Borsta cut her off with a more serious tone. “This little one has very few HP, you’re lucky it’s me and not Warsta, he’d be down already otherwise.”

Charlie quietly watched the exchange, a number of new questions adding to his list. Toriel sighed.

“This charming ghost in a dummy is named Borstablook, they are an old acquaintance. To answer your questions, when a fight or any other interaction including SOULs starts, they are invoked, creating a magic space that, in the case of a fight, prevent damages to the environment. This heart in front of you is your SOUL, Charlie. Us monsters are intimately linked to our SOUL, thus why it does not appear like yours.”

Charlie nodded, mentally crossing some of his questions and noting that magic seemingly was a thing too. Then a long awkward silence followed. He didn’t know if he still had to try and start a fake conversation now that he knew someone was in the dummy or wait for them to do something.

“There are people who have died from waiting,” the bored dummy let out. “Perhaps it should also be explained to him how combat works and what all his options are.”

Charlie gave the dummy a thankful glance while Toriel pinched her forehead with an exasperated look.

“I sometimes really wonder how is it we are friends…”

“I’m the voice of good sense, that’s why.”

“…But it is true that more explanations seems like a good idea,” Toriel continued without paying attention to what the ghost just said. “Monsters are accustomed to turn-based fights. In general, if your opponent does not do anything, it is because they expect you to start. A turn is defined by an action you choose: FIGHT, ACT, use an ITEM, or refuse to fight, which we also call Spare and ends the fight when both participants want it to. You can also attempt to Flee but it is quite rare to succeed. The opponent must have lost enough of their attention or be less willing to fight for an escape to be possible. Your SOUL will not be able to leave the magic space otherwise.”

Charlie nodded, processing the information. Now that was a strange way to do things, but at least it was organized and courteous. He then thought about the Froggit he killed again and wondered if he might have acted during the monster turn. He felt even more guilty as he realized it surely was the case. He randomly picked one of his questions to quickly think about something else.

“Borsta talked about HP too, what is it?”

“Our way of measuring how much damage the SOUL can take,” Toriel replied. “We use magic for everything, including fighting. And magic impacts the SOUL not the body. If you concentrate, you should be able to feel how many you have.”

He didn’t quite understand what she meant by that but he tried to see. He intensely stared at the cyan heart in front of him. He didn’t see anything particular. But a number came to his mind.

“Is three not much?” he asked with worry.

Toriel didn’t say anything for a few seconds before turning to the dummy.

“Borsta? Could you..?”

“Already done: Attack 3 and Defense 4. With his ribbon,” the ghost precised.

“Then yes it is really not much,” the goat monster answered with concern.

“I told it, even a Froggit could ki-”

“Charlie, how about you Check Borsta for this turn?” Toriel interrupted them. “Afterward I would like to have Borsta Attack you for at least one turn to practice dodging.”

“Alright, but check in what way?” Charlie asked and tried in vain to prevent the ghost’s unfinished sentence from spinning in his head.

“Like Borsta did with you, look how many damages your adversary can inflict and take, Attack and Defense,” Toriel replied. “All you have to do is the same as when you want to look at your HP but with your opponent. You who seem to like knowing what you deal with before acting, I think you will appreciate being able to do it with everyone here. I will not lie to you, some monsters might deform these measurements or make them inaccessible but it at least gives you time to well observe your adversary.”

Charlie indeed liked the idea of gaining more information, especially if he was facing unknown creatures. He focused on the dummy before him. Once again, he didn’t see anything. However he felt something. His perception of the dummy seemed extended. He didn’t know how but he felt it was made of cotton, fragile and they didn’t want in the least to do anything including hurting him. Attack 1 and Defense 0. Well that was interesting!

“Watch out, I Attack,” the ghost warned.

White cotton balls slipped out of restitched slits and slowly flex towards his soul. Charlie watched with amazed eyes the magic display before making a step on the side to move his soul out of the attacks’ way.

“Good Charlie!” Toriel congratulated him. “You know, you could also move your SOUL without moving yous body! Some bullet-patterns might be easier to dodge like that.”

Move his soul without moving his body? How was he supposed to do that? He tried to see. He only managed to quiver the light blue heart, not to move it.

“Well, we will work more on that another time,” Toriel said. “Strike up a little conversation with Borsta as planned and both end up the fight.”

Charlie looked at the dummy, which wasn’t making any movement that would help him know what to tell them, and ultimately went with the simplest.

“Thank you for helping me understand fights and sorry for the trouble.”

“No worries, kid, not like I had a choice but better me than another monster,” Borsta replied and seemed almost eager for it to be over.

Toriel gently applauded and the world regained it’s colors.

“This was a good training!” she declared with a delighted air. “Now, my child, I suggest you to continue, I have a house at the end of the... Charlie?”

He had approached the dummy as he reached into his overalls’ central pocket.

“I saw you were coming apart, I don’t have any thread but would a band-aid do?” he asked as he held one out to them.

Borsta stared for few seconds in silence.

“No thanks. Anyway, I don’t like this body so I don’t stay in it,” the ghost said as they got out the dummy under the widened child eyes. “And an advice, you should rather keep a healing ITEM like that for yourself with your condition.”

Borsta then went transparent until they disappeared. Toriel shook her head and sighed.

“I really do not understand why Borsta still tries bodies when it clearly does not interest them to become corporeal… Come on Charlie, let us continue.”

As he put back the band-aid in his pocket, he found out with surprise something else in his hand: 3 gold coins. He didn’t know when and how they appeared. But he had an idea om where they came from. He looked one last time the dummy before leaving.

He nervously followed Toriel in the next room. He was watching out for the frog. He felt it was here, waiting for the right time to jump at him. He then realized at the goat monster had talked to him and he didn’t listen.

“Pardon?”

“I was saying that is was very nice of you to offer a healing ITEM like that,” Toriel repeated with a smile. “But Borsta is right, with so little HP, you better keep them for yourself. I will make sure that you will not be attacked but you never know. It is already a miracle that you came out of your fall unscathed.”

She winked to him.

“For now, let us see if you will manage to solve this puzzle,” she said with a cheerful look. “Watch the room carefully, I will be waiting for you a little further on.”

He didn’t even have time to protest that the frog jumped before him and everything went black. He let out a little silent scream and froze in fear. He forced himself to calmly think before making anything stupid. The frog/Froggit had always waited for him to do something before attacking so it was his turn. Toriel had kept going without realizing what was happening. He had to catch her attention. And to concentrate to correctly dodge the attack, he knew that he didn’t have room for error. Perhaps by surprising the monster he’d increase his luck? He decided to check it first.

Attack 4 and Defense 1, it looks more curious than aggressive. He wondered for a moment if it was possible that the frog had simply mistaken his soul for some kind of fly or other insect to eat every time it had attacked him. He refocused and prepared to dodge it. He was ready not to let it kill him again. What he really wasn’t ready for were the meowing that the mouth on its stomach let out and the little white insects that left its normal mouth to rush towards him. He moved just in time out of their way.

That was new! And not necessarily in a good way. If the monster had other attacks he didn’t know, he wouldn’t last long. He couldn’t fight back or he’d risk killing it once again. He really had to get Toriel’s attention. He stroke up a conversation.

“Hello, I am Charlie,” he loudly said with a forced smile. “You have a pretty meowing, I didn’t know that frogs could do that.”

The Froggit looked at him with incomprehension. He had forgotten this detail… However the monster seemed a little happy. It didn’t stop it from preparing to jump. Charlie started to shiver, ready to duck to avoid a new death. A white flame suddenly appeared and ejected the monster that ran away with panic. Toriel came too, throwing a cold glare in the frog direction, her hand still fuming.

“What a miserable creature,” the goat monster mumbled with aversion. “Attacking such a weak, young and innocent child…”

Weak he agreed. Young and innocent, he wasn’t so sure… She looked angry, Charlie feared for a moment that she attacked him. He almost had the impression that her eyes were glowing red. But to his great relief, the colors went back and an apologetic smile softened Toriel’s face.

“Perhaps it would be wiser if we stayed together after all,” she said, reaching out.

He took her hand without hesitation this time and followed the goat monster to the spikes.

“Have you figured out how to solve this puzzle or would you prefer me to guide you? Toriel kindly asked.

Charlie didn’t say anything. He looked at the spikes, remembering the path of lighter stone in the precedent part of the room. The same path he had taken with Toriel before. He stepped on the first metal plate and the spikes retracted. Confident, he pulled the monster by the arm and continued forward, without making a single mistake. Toriel enthusiastically applauded him once on the other side. And he was pretty glad to have done it on his own this time. However, he still had the feeling this maternal monster was taking him for younger than he was… Or at least even more than usual, which  kind of bothered him.

“Toriel…” he started hesitantly, passing into the next room.

“Yes?”

“You know, I’m actually older than I look,” he slowly said.

“I do not doubt it, my child,” Toriel nodded with a tender smile, the kind reserved for little ones who play big. “How old are you then?”

“10 and a half years old.”

He saw the goat monster’s eyes widen with surprise. As he suspected, she well and truly assumed he was younger and undoubtedly believed he wanted to show-off. But even so he had to do her justice, she didn’t seem to question his statement.

“Have humans decreased in height over the last few years?” she asked.

“No it’s only me that do not grow because of a disease. But it’s not contagious,” he quickly added, bad memories concerning the only time he talked about his height to his class replaying in his head.

Toriel quietly giggled.

“Even if it was, it would not change much for me.”

“Yes, I guess since adults do not grow up anymore,” he muttered, feeling a little sheepish.

“Oh no, not only that, I stopped aging a very long time ago,” the monster smiled.

“Stop aging?” he repeated and frowned. “What is your age?”

“I forgot. 1000 years old? Less?” Toriel pondered before she lightly laughed. “I stopped counting after 400.”

It was Charlie's turn to open wide surprised eyes.

“For real?!”

“I was present during the war that led to our imprisonment down here,” the goat monster replied as she nodded, a hint of pain passing through her eyes and smile.

“War?” Charlie asked, thinking back to the engravings before the hole at the surface.

Toriel snorted a brief joyless laugh with her snout.

“I deduce that they really decided to erase us from history…” she sighed. “Would you like to know how us, monsters, all ended up beneath the ground?”

If he had had dog ears, they would have perked up on his head at this question. He rapidly nodded, hardly containing his haste to learn more about this unknown world. Toriel related the monsters history. The harmony with humans. Then, some centuries ago, the war that the latter had started. The overwhelming victory they had over monsters. And eventually, the wizards who had raised a magical barrier on the mountain to imprison all the monsters.

Charlie listened with all his attention. No wonder he was getting funny looks from all the little monsters they passed. If Toriel didn’t accompany him, no doubt he would have been attacked more than once. He was even surprised now that she was so warm and protective to him, especially after witnessing all this. He wondered a moment if she wasn’t putting on an act to lure him in a trap. But in that case, why bother to explain and protect him? No, she sincerely seemed to care about him. Nothing in her attitude betrayed any deception. He decided to still trust her for now.

“Oh well, we are still alive so we are not at our lowest point, no need to look down in the dumps,” Toriel concluded with a smile.

Charlie got the feeling she had tried to lighten up the atmosphere with new puns. The first ones she was doing since his return back in time. He smiled and managed to laugh a little to make her happy, because despite what she was affirming, she looked sad.

“That’s for sure, I didn’t think either I would come down to earth with a bang like that,” he tried back and immediately sighed. “Sorry, it was bad.”

“Not that bad for a first time,” Toriel softly laughed. “It is not always easy, especially in the beginning.”

She suddenly stopped with a concern look.

“But for now, I think we just fell on a little problem.”

Charlie understood why she used the verb “fall” when he saw which room they just entered. The cracks in the floor just a bit away and the lack of hole were taunting him by reminding him that his inability to cross made him go back in time.

“Usually in this room, you must pass through the floor and go back up but I doubt that this is a good idea for you…” Toriel said.

Charlie was glad she considered the problem this time. Although now that he thought about it, she couldn’t know he first time, he didn’t say anything. He had played really badly. It was lucky that he could try again.

“Unless…” the goat monster pondered before turning towards him. “Would you allow me to take you in my arms? Thereby I could make you go down with me.”

After a quick analysis of the possibilities, he positively nodded. It seemed like the best solution to him. Much better than asking her to throw him to the other side anyway. He couldn’t believe that such a thought had crossed his mind for a second.

Toriel cautiously took him under his arms and lifted him as if he weighed nothing to bring him up against her. He suddenly felt smaller and more fragile than usual. This lady goat monster really was impressive. He was happy she decided to protect him. To imagine how would a fight against her go… No actually he couldn’t see a fight at all, only a broken cyan heart and the void. No doubt, he was more than happy she wasn’t seeing him as an enemy.

“Hang on tight, Charlie,” Toriel recommended as she approached the cracks. “I am going on three. 1. 2. 3!”

They passed through the floor and Charlie clung with all his strength to the goat clothes, closing hard his eyes. He didn’t feel any impact with the floor but he heard dead leaves cracking and swishing when the fall stopped. He opened his eyes. They were well down. No injuries. No return back in time. Toriel gave him a reassuring smile.

“You have nothing to fear anymore, my child. We just have to go back up.”

Charlie logically knew that the danger was over but apparently his body wasn’t aware. His fingers remained clenched on the purple fabric of the monster's outfit. And was he really shaking? He manifestly still didn’t recover from his falls from great heights.

Toriel didn’t move for a few seconds then gently rubbed a hand against his shoulder.

“Everything is fine Charlie,” she whispered. “You are safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

A warm feeling passed through his body at her gesture and words. He stopped shaking. He relaxed but stayed clung to her. He didn’t want to let go. Was this what a hug was? As far as he could remember, nobody ever took him in their arms. Not even Justine or Jessie. The first one had kind of a hard time showing sentimentality and the second one blushed with timidity just by holding his hand. He felt safe now.

Toriel went up stairs and the wall opened to take them back in the room, on the other side of the unstable floor. The goat monster, that he didn’t released, put him down on the ground. Despite himself, he felt a little disappointed. He would have liked to stay longer in her arms. He looked at the hole they had fallen through. He had passed this time. As long as he was with Toriel, nothing could happen to him.

A golden glint caught his eyes and he noted with surprise that a star appeared besides the exit. Toriel, who was waiting there, didn’t seem to notice the strange phenomenon once again. He caught up with her and he brushed the light with his fingertips before entering the new room, filled with warmth and energy.

“Tell me, Charlie, do you prefer butterscotch or cinnamon?” then asked the goat monster.

Oh well, he’d forgotten she asked him this question last time.

“Butterscotch,” he answered, waiting for the question she had asked next.

“I do not know why, but I was sure you would say that,” Toriel slightly laughed. “And I bet you do not have anything against cinnamon.”

Charlie froze. And slowly nodded. Now that was weird. With the context that changed, some phrases she had said to him before his return in the past had changed a little too. But not to this point. What she just told could almost make one think that she had remembered the answers he had given her the first time. Yet he had already confirmed that she didn’t remember anything. It must have just been because they interacted more than the last time.

“Anyway, we are lucky, today all the rocks are cooperative,” Toriel stated as she placed herself next to the one that was in front of them.

He frowned a little. What was that supposed to mean? Where the rocks alive? Upon reflection, he did see from afar a giant carrot chitchat with green jelly so it wouldn’t be so surprising.

The gray rock had to be part to the puzzle that would make the spikes in the middle of the room go down seeing the odd plate besides it. It probably had to be pushed on it. He did it with some difficulties – it was a bit heavy – expecting for it to come to life or do something at any moment. Surprisingly, nothing weird happened. The spikes simply retracted in the ground as usual. Toriel congratulated him and didn’t seem to notice his confused look. He didn’t understand.

In the next room, he felt his blood leave his face.

“Maybe you should be more careful of the way you build to avoid having fragile floors,” he pointed out in a small voice, staring at the expanse of cracks in front of them.

“Oh no, this is not a construction error but really a puzzle here, there is a solid path,” Toriel tried to reassure him. “Follow me, and make sure to walk in my steps.”

He moved across the room in the goat monster's trail, expecting at any moment to fall through the floor. He was shaking like a leaf when he arrived at the end on stone that was definitely solid. Toriel offered him a candy that he accepted, thinking that it could help him calm down. Despite its appearance and licorice texture, the sweet surprisingly didn’t have its taste. He felt like it dissolved unexpectedly fast in his mouth. Weird this monster candy.

The next room puzzle consisted in moving three rocks on plates. These ones remained extraordinarily normal as he pushed them. It was almost disappointed.

He spotted a clean little hole in the following hallway’s wall and his eyes widened with hope. Maybe he would see the gray mouse that spent some minutes with him again. He bend down under Toriel curious eyes to try to see in the hole. Black and silence greeted him.

“Ah, I do not know if you will see a lot of mice, they are a pretty reserved community,” the goat monster said. “I have not seen them in forever but I do know who is doing the puzzle maintenance.”

Charlie looked up and down at Toriel without making any comment. She obviously didn’t consider that her impressive stature could be for something in their hiding. But really what did he know?

“Do you have another candy, please?” he asked instead.

She hold one out to him with curiosity. He then put the colored sweet in front of the hole without a word and get up. He thanked the goat monster and they continued forward.

When they entered the next room, a new ghost was in here. They seemed to start and slightly turn blue upon seeing them, then quickly floated away towards a wall… to pass through the floor with a little surprised cry.

“This is the last room where you have to fall through the floor to leave,” Toriel stated without looking disturbed in the least by what just happened. “You do not need to go down with me, I only have to go and press a switch.”

“And the ghost..?” Charlie half asked as he was quite disturbed after seeing the latter fall through the fragile floor.

“Shysta is fine, do not worry, ghosts are quite… particular monsters.”

Toriel headed towards the middle of the left wall and disappeared, swallowed by the ground. Charlie waited, turning his head to where the ghost had disappeared. He seemed to hear voices from there. A small shy one and a rough angry one. A ghost showed their head through the floor. They weren’t either Borsta nor Shysta. This new one had an irritated look and their eyes were squinted with suspicion. Charlie oddly didn’t feel so safe all of sudden. He made a slow and careful step backwards.

“Everything is good!” Toriel then said and her reappearance startled him with surprise.

He took the ghost monster hand and felt the burning glare of the ghost following him until they exited the room. He wholeheartedly hoped he’d never have to meet them again. He let Toriel resolve the four next rooms’ puzzles, consisting of pressing the right switch on the ground – knowing that a mistake would make him fall in a room to get him back to the first one discouraged him.

The goat monster then guided him to a yard with a big black bare-branched tree sitting in the center. The floor around was littered with red dead leaves. At the back, there was a plain door with a window on each side.

“We are finally at my house,” Toriel declared with a smile. “I will only ask you to wait a little outside while I’m doing a quick cleaning, I was not expecting guests. Be good, alright?”

Charlie nodded with relief. He wasn’t bothered to wait if it meant to not be facing any of those endless puzzles that included a possibility of falling almost every other time. He sat down next to the tree with the crunching of leaves and watched Toriel rush into her home. She didn’t give him any reason to doubt her while they crossed the Ruins. But if she had put on an act to lure him into a trap, first off she was a very good actress, and it would be in her house that the betrayal would take place. Honestly, she genuinely seemed to be an old and really kind lady who truly loved children. He supposed he would see what turned out to be true.

He let his gaze wander over the tree branches and as surprised to catch sight of a small red leaf peeking out of a bud. The leaf entirely unfolded and immediately came off its support to slowly fall and vanish among its pear on the ground. He then saw on the edge of this red carpet a familiar gray mouse watching him.

“Well hi! It’s been a while,” he smiled.

It crossed the leaves to join him and climbed on a root next to him.

“Did you find the candy?” he asked.

The mouse nodded then turned its head on the side and faced him again. He opened wide surprised eyes. It was now holding in its teeth a purse that was about its size which it seemingly pull out of thin air. It put it down and waited, standing on its two back legs. Hesitantly, Charlie took it and opened it. It contained 5 gold coins. It took him a few seconds to understand.

“Ah, no it’s not necessary,” he refused, a little uncomfortable. “It was just a small gift, that’s all.”

He handed the purse back to the mouse. The latter retrieved it to better empty it in his hand before making it disappear the same way it appeared. He stared a few other seconds at the mouse whose eyes were defying him to give it back the coins now. He let out an amused sigh and tucked the coins in a pocket. The way it acted reminded him a little of himself. And this interaction made him think of the Tooth Mouse. Without any lost tooth.

“Thanks.”

The mouse gave a satisfied squeak and sat down. They both sat quietly for a few moments. Then Charlie turned his gaze to the house door.

“Toriel scares you all a little, doesn't she?” he asked, thinking back to the way all the little monsters they had passed looked at her.

After a second, the mouse nodded slightly.

“But she's nice, right? I can trust her?”

This time the mouse nodded immediately with a confident squeak. Charlie smiled, reassured. He had less reason to doubt with the opinion of an outsider who seemed well informed. Besides, there was another question on his mind.

“Toriel… she's already taken care of a child before, right?”

The mouse gave him a funny look. But before it could do anything else, the house door opened and it dived and disappeared into the leaves.

“All is good, my child, the house is ready,” said Toriel with a big grin.

Charlie got up and saw that a golden star had appeared next to the tree. He discreetly brushed it, felt energized and went to join the goat monster in her house.

Bonus: Borsta's inner thoughts before the inevitable

Chapter Text

He found himself bathed in warm shades of ocher, welcomed after spending so much time in the supernatural purples of the rest of the Ruins. The temperature was also better inside, which was not unpleasant. And there was a good smell of…

“Did you smell?” Toriel asked with an air of complicity. “It is a butterscotch-cinnamon pie! You are lucky, I do not know why but I felt like doing one before leaving for the entrance of the Ruins, instead of the usual snail pie. It should have cooled enough to be served, but I'd like to show you something first.”

She headed down the hallway to the right and he followed her curiously, holding back from asking about the snails. There were several doors but she stopped in front of the first one. He stopped too and discreetly removed a piece of spider web that had clung to Toriel's tunic. There also was some specks of dust left on it. The house was clean now but it evidently hadn't been in a while before his arrival.

“Here is a guest room where you can sleep," Toriel pointed to the door. “Make yourself at home, do not hesitate to go in and look or visit the rest of the house. I would just rather you did not go down the stairs, that is all. I will start to cut the pie. Come join me whenever you want.”

She gently rubbed his hair and headed to the room on the other side of the entrance. He decided to see all the hallway before entering the room.

There were diverse potted flowers and plants on the few sparsely filled pieces of furniture along the hallway. Since he hadn't seen any vegetation other than ivy and the tree with dead leaves, he wondered where they could have come from. Then he thought that he had surely not seen everything of the Ruins, which must be full of secret passages. There surely was a garden somewhere and other houses than this one for the other monsters. The last door on the left had a sheet saying "under renovation" taped to it. He tried to turn the handle but, unsurprisingly, it did not open.

There was a large mirror next to it. He looked into it and opened his eyes in horror. Why hadn't anyone told him about his hair? Wisps of hair going every which way, his ponytail hanging sadly to one side, the red ribbon threatening to fall out at any moment. He rummaged in his pockets for his comb before remembering that he didn't have it on him. Great. He then looked at the door behind him in the mirror before turning around. If there was a mirror there, maybe that door was... bingo, a bathroom. He took a look around the room. The bathtub was huge, which was not surprising for a monster the size of Toriel, with a lone soap sitting on the rim. One shelf was mostly empty, frequented only by three neatly folded towels, a brush and a comb. There was a jar with a single worn toothbrush in it on the sink, at the bottom of which white hairs were accumulating. He returned his gaze to the comb. Toriel had told him to make himself at home, so he could borrow it, right? He decided yes.

He went back to the mirror and began to arrange his hair. He then noted the two slight yellow bruises on his cheeks, gifts from his father the day before. He pinched his lips together at the memory, but the thoughtful part of his brain pointed out that they should have been more visible. They seemed almost healed already. The golden stars came back to his mind and he wondered if they had anything to do with it. Once his hair was done, he took care of his outfit, brushing off the dust and dirt that he had not paid attention to before.

When he re-examined himself in the mirror, he smiled slightly. It was more like him.

He went to check the other doors. On the bathroom side, there was also a toilet. The door between the guest room and the room being renovated opened without resistance. A blue bedroom was behind it. He put one foot in to get a better look. It was obviously Toriel's room because of the size of the bed. Except for the second door on the side that would lead to the room being renovated, there were only things normally found in a bedroom: a desk, a book shelf, and a dresser. There were also some potted plants like golden flowers on the shelf. He decided not to intrude further into the private sphere of the goat monster and finally went to his guest room.

An adorable red child's bedroom greeted him. It was clearly a child's room given the normal size of the bed and the various toys around. But something else jumped out at him. It was someone's room. The basic drawing of a golden flower hung on the wall, the few striped sweaters in the closet and in the box, shoes of different sizes for kids' feet… human feet.

He left the bedroom and returned to the hallway. There were only two pieces of furniture here, on either side of the stairs. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen much of these so far. He leaned against the railing of the stairs and tried to see what was down there, without much success. As he walked away, his eyes fell on a calendar with a piece of it sticking out of the furniture next to him. He didn't know why it caught his eye until he picked it up. It wasn't new. It was from twenty years ago. That was about when... He put the calendar down and went to join Toriel. He had to ask her the question.

He entered the cozy but a little empty living room with only a big armchair, two book shelves and a big table. The goat monster was poking a little fire in the fireplace and her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“Ah Charlie! Did you explore? Do you want some pie?”

He stayed still for a few seconds, looking at her smiling at him, then nodded his head, ultimately deciding to wait a little before asking a question that might prove difficult. He turned to the table and his eyes widened. He didn’t pay attention at first glance but this pie – which looked very appetizing by the way – was huge! It was easily the width of his body if not more! He looked at the two plates, each containing a slice of the cake. He… He wasn't sure if he could eat his whole slice. He was already – strangely – still not very hungry…

Toriel invited him to sit in the small raised chair before sitting herself in one of the other two large chairs. A small chair between two large chairs… He added that to his observations without saying anything. He apprehensively attacked the impressive piece of pie on his plate. He put a piece in his mouth and... It was the best thing he had ever eaten. The cinnamon and caramel blended together in a surprisingly wonderful way and the pastry almost literally melted on his tongue. Without realizing it, he had already gobbled up half the slice. He was surprised, not only by that but also because he didn't feel as full as he thought he would. In the end, maybe he could finish his slice.

“Oh well! You were hungry, it seems,” Toriel said with a smile as he swallowed the last piece.

“Not that much, but this pie can easily be eaten,” he replied, giving her a small smile. “Honestly, I didn't think I'd finish it.”

“Ah, this is because monster food is different from human food, it turns directly into energy that is absorbed by the SOUL,” Toriel explained. “And even though it works differently, it still provides sustenance for humans.”

That explained how he managed to eat that huge slice and the feeling that the food was dissolving quickly in his mouth.

“However…”

Toriel waved her hand and a black and white flame burst out of it. Charlie started to recoil, but the flame disappeared and was replaced by a glass containing a pale yellow drink.

“...good hydration is still important,” Toriel continued, handing him the glass. “This is lemonade, I hope you like it.”

Charlie took the drink and looked at it in shock before looking up at the goat monster.

“How did you...?” he tried to ask, pointing to the glass, the words refusing to come.

Fortunately, Toriel seemed to understand what he wanted to say.

“I did not magically create it, I just pulled it out of my dimensional pocket,” she replied, then went on to explain further when he looked confused. “All monsters can store a given number of OBJECTS in a magical space that they can access at any time.”

Charlie nodded and sipped his – deliciously refreshing – lemonade. So that was how the mouse had conjured up that purse. And it was probably the same way Borsta or even the frog carried money. Pretty handy, especially when you had no pocket.

“I could teach you to do it, it is not very complicated,” Toriel then added.

Charlie’s last sip went down the wrong way and he started to cough badly.

“For real?” he hacked between two coughing fit.

“Of course,” the goat monster acquiesced, retrieving the glass and making it disappear while gently patting his back. “Humans do not have magic on their own, but we monsters are the source of magic and therefore enabled them to have access to it in the past. In this place, that we have filled with magic by our presence, you should be able to do it with a little practice.”

Charlie considered the idea. It seemed very practical. His pockets had limited space after all. But something about the way she said it made him uncomfortable. It was as if she expected him to spend some time down here but…

“Will I really have time before I leave?”

Toriel looked at him as if he just spoke in another language.

“Leave,” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Leaving this place. The Underground. People must be looking for me outside, I have to get out.”

“Ah.”

Toriel looked at him in a sad and sorry way.

“Forgive me, my child. I thought that you understood when I told you… Do you remember this magic barrier I mentioned and that has kept us locked up for centuries?”

Charlie started to realize and it took him a few seconds before he could nod his head, hoping she wouldn’t say what he knew she would say.

“All that gets in cannot get out. I am sorry Charlie.”

He said nothing. His mind was racing for a solution because he refused to believe he was stuck there. He refused to imagine that he would never see Justine and Jessie again. Almost every problem had a solution and prisons had a key. Then he recalled the story of the sisters' mother.

He looked up and locked eyes with Toriel. He had to know.

“Toriel, you have fostered another child before, didn’t you? Another human.”

The goat monster's eyes widened almost imperceptibly and he thought he saw a sparkle glow red in her irises. Then she looked away and a small sad smile appeared on her face.

“Yes,” she whispered, seemingly lost in various memories.

“A mother in my village told me about the disappearance of a child when she was young,” he said slowly, “but also that a monster had brought back…”

He didn't finish his sentence when he saw her mouth twisting, her eyes getting misty and one of her hands tightening on her arm. Her reaction was enough to understand that it was indeed the same person. And now that he thought about it, Toriel could fit the description of the monster that had come to the village.

“Was it you?” he asked and couldn’t help a glimmer of hope in his voice. “There is a way out of here?”

“No,” Toriel firmly said, her eyelids shut before continuing with a softened expression, her eyes half open. “No, it was not me. It was my son. Asriel.”

He couldn't say that he was expecting it. There was nothing in the house to suggest that there had been two children. Unless... They had shared the same room of course. Another question came to his mind: where was…?

“When our child died of a serious illness, Asriel wanted to bring them back to their village, probably to fulfill their last wish to see again the golden flowers they loved so much…” the goat monster said and her mouth twisted into a painful smile. “The Barrier can only let out beings with a powerful enough SOUL, the fusion of a monster SOUL and a human SOUL. When we die, we turn into dust, body and SOUL. But for you humans, your SOUL persist, which may allow us to absorb it…”

Toriel's grin began to tremble and her voice rose slightly in pitch.

“So he took their… And he…”

A sob cut her off, and she took deep breaths to calm herself, unable to stop a tear from running down her fluffy cheek. After a few seconds of hesitation, Charlie leaned over and placed a hand on her human paw. She didn't need to say anything more. He had understood.

Now he felt bad for having doubted her. And he understood her maternal and protective attitude better. Losing her two children at the same time… He obviously didn't have any himself, but the idea of never seeing his two best… his only two friends…

Fear came over him. There was a way out but not for him. Not alive. That couldn't be true, could it? But even if he could get a monster's soul himself, it would mean killing one. And turning the first one he'd met into dust once was good enough for him. No way he was going to do it again. So he really was stuck here? He was now terrified as he realized he would never be able to get back to the surface.

Then came the horror when he realized something else: down here, he was certainly a walking exit ticket for the monsters. He wondered if this was what Toriel had meant about the monsters that would attack him. Would walking through the Ruins alone be the same as walking around with a sign with "FREE FREEDOM" written in big letters? Would it even be possible for him to survive here?

He felt a warm, fluffy weight on his hand and discovered Toriel's other paw resting on it. He looked up to meet the goat monster's eyes, which had lit up with a red glow.

“Do not worry, Charlie. I will do everything in my power to protect you and offer you a new home,” she affirmed with resolution and confidence.

Charlie didn't move. Then he claimed back his hand and got down from his chair. He didn't know how to ask, so he stood next to Toriel and shyly reached out to her, looking down at the floor. He felt her warm paws lift him up and hug him gently. He tightened his arms around her silky-furred neck and just hung there, trying in vain to hold back his tears.

********************************

It was hard to count the time in the Underground. Without the sun to set the rhythm of the day, only the urges to sleep and eat enabled more or less to measure its passing. And Charlie had needed an indefinite amount of time curled up in the guest room bed to recover from the shock. But he was still sure to have been there for at least a week.

Toriel showed him the rest of the Ruines which, as he guessed, were hiding behind secret passages. They had thus spent a whole afternoon – or at least what he felt like an afternoon – in a small garden picking some flowers, vainly trying to catch insects – he was bad at that – before finally looking for some snails before going home.

He appreciated a little more each day the goat monster who turned out to be like the mother he would’ve liked to have. Once he changed his usual half ponytail for two braids that joined together and Toriel had complimented his hairstyle. He then asked her if she didn’t find him weird that he was a boy but liked to… cross-dress. Toriel then responded that it was his choice and there was no harm doing that. That a person was never as good-looking as when they were in harmony with themself. Charlie was deeply touched and ended up asking her if she wanted him to comb her hair. She accepted with pleasure and he passed the comb in Toriel’s white mane for several minutes, both of them silent, quiet, peaceful.

When the goat monster went out, to do shopping, attempt to educate the monsters that lived here or he didn’t know what else, he stayed in the house and its surrounding to explore, search and read. The few times he tried to go out farther alone, he found himself facing a cyclops or a giant carrot. The first time, he died and went back to the star in front of Toriel’s house, that he touched without thinking before leaving – which allowed him to observe they acted as anchor points in time and thus prevented him from reliving everything from the beginning. The second time, he had been lucky Toriel was nearby and they almost had vegetable gratin for dinner.

He refrained from trying his luck again since. And he had rummage through the whole house to discover all its objects and mysteries. He notably observed: the appearance one day and disappearance the next day of a chocolate bar in the fridge, the lack of knives in the kitchen drawer, the non-existence of ashes in the fireplace suggesting that Toriel was making a magic fire in it, and an intriguing drawer full of socks in the goat monster room – yes, he ended up giving in to curiosity and entering into her private sphere.

He also got back to reading, an activity he somewhat dropped since he didn’t have to hide anymore during the breaks at school. There were books on miscellaneous subjects: children's stories, cookbooks, facts and uses of snails, documentaries and historical accounts. With the latter, he learned more about the monsters' history and their lifestyles. How they expressed themselves through magic, such as in battle, which explained why there was always a way to dodge their attacks. When Toriel came home, he would ask her questions about what he had read and she would answer him, happy to share her knowledge. There had just been one odd time, when he had asked her if there was a monster king after reading that he had named their town "Home", presumably before taking the name "Ruins". Instead of answering, she had diverted the conversation to various facts about snails. He hadn't insisted, but it had made him tick.

After that, he started to think about the way almost everyone seemed to respect her authority and about Borsta's habit of calling Toriel "Queen"… He would have to ask them some questions if they met again.

The ghost monster had not given any sign of life, or non-life, since his arrival. The other two ghosts had not reappeared either. It was rather strange even though the city was quite large. It was also very empty, the number and variety of monsters more or less stopping at the ones he had seen from the first day. None of them had Toriel's stature, the taller ones only being a couple of centimeters taller than him. He found it strange and even a little sad that Toriel was the only one of her kind, but considering what had happened to her son, he didn't dare ask any more questions.

Charlie sat against the ramparts of the stone balcony from which the expanse of the Ruins was visible. He'd figured this place was safe, still close enough to home that the few monsters that passed through wouldn't attack him. It was also where one of the secret passages to the rest of the city was, but he wasn't going to use it, at least not alone. He took out of his pocket one of the books about monsters that he had taken before going out. He smiled slightly. This exploit would never have been possible without the dimensional pocket he now had access to.

Creating it had been childishly simple, it had come to him very quickly. He didn't even have to think much about it. At least it was something Toriel had managed to get him to do. She had also done fight training with him and... there was no way, his soul refused to move if he didn't move too, and still hardly. He didn't know why, he felt slowed down in the combat zone, as if his movements were restricted, which was not to his advantage with stats like his. Oh well. Toriel was there to protect him at least.

He opened the book and picked up where he left off. The Barrier. Seven mages had joined forces to create it. And the monsters needed the same amount of strength to hopefully destroy it. The strength of seven human SOULs. He pinched his lips together with a disgusted scowl. The humans who had decided the fate of the monsters had been particularly twisted. This barrier was not only a prison but a particularly vicious trap.

He had read in another passage that monster’s SOULs were said to be made of love, hope and compassion. The mere fact that they had to wage war was against their nature. They didn’t make a single victim. They were incapable of it. Humans were way too strong for them. The power of all monster souls combined was merely equivalent to that of a single human soul. If they wanted to get out, they were obligated to have those 7 human souls. The Barrier was an invitation to make victims, to corrupt the very nature of the monsters and make them exactly like humans were seeing them. Whether it be by waiting for people to fall one after the other in their jail, or by having the opportunity on the very first soul to go out and get more.

He stumbled over this thought for a moment. Toriel's son... had he wanted to...? No, surely not. He was a child, like him, and Justine's and Jessie's mother had said he hadn't tried to attack. But what had happened to him showed the perversity of the Barrier: if the monsters ever came out, they would be seen as the evil creatures that humans imagined them to be. Because it would be at the cost of the lives of seven of their kind. A good excuse to slaughter them again.

His thoughts returned to Justine and Jessie. He missed them. He missed them dearly. Every morning he would wake up, eager to get to school and find them, only to realize he wasn't in his usual bed. And to remember that he was stuck under a mountain now. He couldn't deny the relief he felt to no longer see his father and be able to be himself but the cost was still high. He tried to forget his thoughts by diving back into his reading and skipped several pages. There was no way for him to get out anyway.

A title caught his eye. “Boss Monsters.” He began to read without thinking, then frowned, wondering if the text said what he was thinking, before widening his eyes in disbelief. He withdrew what he had just thought. He had a way out. But he couldn't apply it. It was out of the question.

“Good reading kid?” a monotone voice asked above him.

He jumped violently and the book flew out of his hands in the movement… To remain suspended in the air next to a jaded-looking ghost.

“Ah, hello Borsta,” Charlie sighed with relief as the ghost moved to face him, the book floating by their side. “Yes, this is interesting. How are you? I haven't seen you in several days.”

“I had to go back and take care of my child,” Borsta said with a non-existent shrug that was very audible in their voice. “I don't live here permanently, I just come to visit Queen from time to time.”

Several questions came to Charlie's mind and he had a hard time deciding which one to start with. Even though he was itching to do so, he decided not to ask how a ghost could have a child, fearing that he would be rude.

“Where do you live then? So I know where to find you.”

“…You'll have a hard time. I meant I don't live in the Ruins.”

Charlie frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all in the name: Ruins,” Borsta emphasized. “You either have to be crazy like Queen, love the quiet or be old school to live here. Or be stuck in the spiders’ case.”

He stared at the ghost, trying to understand what they were saying.

“There is more than just the Ruins in the Underground??”

Borsta stared back at him with a hint of puzzlement before looking even more jaded, so much so that Charlie was certain the ghost was mentally slapping their forehead with a non-existent hand.

“So she's back to preaching safety through non-information of the danger,” Borsta sighed for a long time before looking up at the ceiling and mumbling. “It turned out so well for her last time…”

Charlie looked at them in silence, waiting for the ghost to explain. He was beginning to think that perhaps the start of the purple cellar at the bottom of the stairs at Toriel's house wasn't actually a cellar. He hadn't looked very far when he had found himself in cold purple again the time he had gone to look down. He had quickly returned to the warm ochre of the house.

“I shouldn't be surprised, there probably aren't any books about it either since they are from before the relocation here. When the human before you was adopted by the royal family, we practically all left Home to build our New Home further up the mountain. There are four other areas besides the Ruins of Home in the Underground and I live in one of them,” Borsta explained, handing him the book (or at least the book floated towards him).

Charlie was frozen, his hand reaching for the object but stopped in its movement as his mind went wild at the mention of…

“The royal family?”

“I should have bet she hadn't told you either. Do I need to explain?” the ghost asked with the least enthusiastic face in the world, seeming to regret having started the discussion.

Charlie shook his head. He was getting it. Now Borsta's nickname for Toriel made sense. He finally retrieved the book.

“If Toriel is the Queen, who is the King? And where is he?” he asked, intrigued and thinking back on the way the goat monster had changed the subject at his mention.

Borsta gave him a long, indescribable look before speaking.

“You realize she’s going to look for a way to kill me if she finds out that I told you about her ex-husband?”

Charlie blinked with surprise. That subject was that sensitive? … A ghost could be killed?

“But I'll enlighten you anyway, so we can both rest easy. The King's name is Asgore Dreemurr. He and Toriel had a son.”

“Asriel,” he murmured without realizing it.

“Oh, so she talked about him? That actually surprises me,” the ghost commented without looking surprised at all.

“Only because I knew for the monster bringing back a dead children to their village.”

“Alright…” Borsta said, slightly nodding. “Did she tell you what happened next?”

“I guessed that he died when he came back.”

“That means no,” the ghost concluded as they nodded one last time. “The poor boy managed to come back to the throne room before turning into dust. Toriel and Asgore were devastated. And Asgore lost his mind. He declared war on humanity and that all humans who fell should be killed for their SOUL... Toriel did not approve. She came to lock herself up here, hoping to intercept and protect those who would fall.”

Charlie remained silent. This was a sensitive subject. He took a few moments to digest. No wonder Toriel was so severe with the other monsters. They had been encouraged to kill him. No wonder she didn't tell him about the King or the rest of the Underground. Only here was he more or less safe. He unconsciously clutched the book against him and then looked down at it, remembering its existence. A thought came to his mind.

“I just have one more question to ask you and then I'll leave you alone,” he said slowly and seriously. “Is Toriel a Boss Monster?”

A monster that would not age unless they had a child according to the book. A powerful monster. A monster whose SOUL could persist for a few moments after death before turning to dust.

Borsta looked at him and Charlie felt that the ghost had guessed his train of thought. There were a few seconds of silence before the answer.

“All the royal family.”

… He thought so.

***********************************

Charlie couldn't stop thinking about it. About this Boss Monster thing. The reason why humans couldn't absorb a monster's soul didn't apply to this kind. So all he would have to do is get one and he could cross the Barrier and get out.

Problem: you'd have to kill the Boss Monster for that. And he had already decided that what had happened with the Froggit would not happen again, let alone on purpose.

Furthermore, the only two individuals to his knowledge that matched these particular monsters were Toriel and Asgore. The motherly goat lady who had cared for him like a son since they met, and the King of the Monsters who had fought and survived the war and was ready to start it again against Charlie's kind. And who was eventually on the other side of an Underground filled with monsters that would try to kill him. Suffice to say, it would not be possible, not for either of them.

“Are you doing good, Charlie?” asked Toriel, whose voice drew him out of his reflections.

He blinked, surprised that he had let himself get carried away in his thoughts. His pen hung a few inches from his exercise sheet, waiting to be finished. Over the past few days, Toriel had indeed begun to teach him at home so that he could continue to learn as he had at school. This had the advantage of allowing him to actively use his head and distract him from such thoughts. But it also reminded him of his old school, which he had, he now realized, really enjoyed the last few weeks he had spent there.

He nodded and wrote down the answer he was thinking of before drifting on to something else.

***************************

He had been cooking all day with Toriel. The idea was to make as many dishes as possible to give to as many monsters as possible and thus try to have cordial interactions between Charlie and them. Maybe that way they would be less likely to attack him? He could then go out without fearing for his life.

He waited patiently in front of the butterscotch-cinnamon pie for it to cool. He wanted to take a piece to the dead tree, hoping the mice would pick it up. They would surely enjoy it. He'd also have to take a piece for Justine and Jess-

He vigorously shook his head. Justine and Jessie were not there. They were at home in the village. Safe with their mother. Not here…

… He really missed them.

************************

Charlie was absently braiding and unbraiding one strand of his hair as he laid on the floor of the guest room. He was pretty sure he could braid them one more notch than before his fall into the Underground.

He had read the last book in Toriel's house today, if he excluded her diary, which she was careful to put well up out of his reach.

Now he didn't know what to do. He had finished all of Toriel's exercises. He was not good at drawing. He had already tried on the entire meager wardrobe and shoes in his room. He had briefly tried to juggle with Toriel's socks. There was no point in styling his own hair only to mess it up right afterwards to do it again, it was more enjoyable as a group activity…

He didn't know if the food from the other day had softened the other monsters' opinion of him. So he preferred to stay inside anyway. It was too risky to try to get out.

************************

He had died several times trying to get out of the house. On the positive side, he was attacked less quickly than before. But when he was, he died just as quickly though. So his best chance of survival was clearly to not get caught in a fight. But how to get around in the Ruins without being spotted?

He looked at the white sheet in his hand and wondered if this really was a good idea. Maybe Toriel would scold him for cutting into it and drawing on it. But it would be worth it if it worked. If it didn't, the problem would be solved anyway since he wasn't going to touch the star again right away. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, covered himself with the white sheet, arranged it to place the holes he had made in front of his eyes and looked again. He really felt like he was in a cheap Halloween costume, but well, that was what ghosts really looked like here.

He walked out of the house. He took a deep breath and concentrated on walking at a steady pace, his arms glued to his body. He also had to not make any noise while walking, but it wouldn't be too difficult. He had long since mastered the art of being discreet in his old house.

He saw a Whimsun through the holes in the sheet and held his breath. This monster was harmless, but if it recognized him and ran away, it might attract more dangerous ones. The Whimsun moved away from him without fleeing. This was a good sign.

He ventured further. He came across a Moldsmal that wiggled, perhaps to greet him – it was difficult to understand the body language of a jelly.

He became bolder and went even further. He passed a room where Toriel was lecturing other monsters, and was just then telling them not to attack human children. The few participants who saw him greeted him.

He smiled behind his sheet. He could walk around the Ruins now.

**************************

He had been all around the Ruins. With Toriel when she wasn't busy or disguised as a ghost when he was alone. He was about to run out of things to do.

This thought was keeping him awake in his bed.

When he came back from his less than exciting outing, he had tried to draw, even though he sucked, flowers, again, and again, and again, and eventually threw the sheets into the fire. Because it was magic, the papers had not burned and he had recovered them to tear them up before throwing them in a trash can. He had a hard time explaining why his hand and said trash can were on fire afterwards.

He remembered what he had thought when he first read the story of Rapunzel long before. He had thought the young woman was stupid to let a stranger into her home. But now he was beginning to think that she must actually have been very bored in her tower. Anything that was out of the ordinary, out of the daily routine, had to become the most fascinating and exciting thing in the world.

Despite himself, his thoughts continued to loop between the Ruins, his village, Toriel, his father, Borsta, his school, King Asgore, golden flowers in a familiar vase, the rest of the Underground, sharp scissors, a tasty pie, tired green eyes, golden stars, the sun in the sky, mice, Justine and Jessie…

*****************************

He was spending as much time as possible with Toriel. She was the only thing that brought him some novelty since the ghosts had not reappeared to him for a long time and he had just the time to see the mice before they disappeared.

He jumped at the exercises she prepared for him, listened attentively to her lessons, followed her when she went out, and was always trying to learn more about her. There was one problem with this last point, however. The goat monster seemingly wanted to avoid at all costs the memories that included her ex-husband, who seemed to have been present during many periods of her life. And since her return to Home, now the Ruins, not much of interest had happened to her. So the number of anecdotes she had to tell from her life was less than those in the book about the different uses of snails.

But it was better than nothing. Better than now knowing every single snail trivia by heart. He wasn't going to try reading a book for the second time, that was for sure... Or at least not until a longer time. He felt like he was going to become crazy. His thoughts wouldn't leave him alone when he had nothing to do.

***************************

He was in the void. A black and cold void like the one he found himself in every time he died. Only this time everything was silent. There were no voices of Justine, Jessie and their mother as he usually heard.

He called. But nobody came. He tried again. He was still alone.

An ominous mass took shape in the darkness. Scissor blades glowed. A giant white version of his father advanced toward him. He stepped back, trying to scream, but suddenly his voice was gone. His father's menacing, aggressive features melted into a cloud of monsters that hurled themselves at him for his soul. He ran away, avoiding the dozens of scissors that were reaching for him but were actually claws. The horde screamed at him to come back with his father's distorted voice. There was a familiar house in front of him. Faint voices echoed from it.

“You want to go to our house Charlie?”

“I have a new outfit idea for you.”

“It’s up to you.”

He cried with joy and ran to the door. But it had no handle. He knocked frantically. But nobody opened the door for him. Yet he could see them through the window. Why didn't they hear him??

The swarm of monsters with eager claws roared behind him again. He knocked with the energy of despair.

“I’m here! Let me in! Please, I need to get in!”

His foot was grabbed and he was pulled down. He squirmed and struggled as he saw the house moving away.

“No! Let me go! I want to go back! I want to come back!”

The earth's maw began to close over him. He cried out in tears.

“I WANT TO COME BACK-”

******************************

“…HOME!” he finished, still moving in all directions as he woke up.

He screamed when he saw the dark mass leaning over him blocking the light and frantically moved backwards, still lying down, until he touched the wall.

“Everything is fine, my child!” the creature exclaimed, stretching its big hairy paws towards him.

He struggled when it grabbed him, crying and letting out incoherent syllables, until the creature called him.

“Charlie! It is me! It was just a nightmare, a nightmare!”

He recognized the voice and calmed down instantly. Before collapsing into Toriel's arms.

“I-I want to c-come back h-ho-home,” he sobbed as he had never sobbed before. “I w-want to go back to m-my home.”

Because Justine and Jessie's house was that for him. He didn't realize it until now, but this was where his real home had been.

And he was terribly lonely. Before he had friends, he didn't mind being alone. But that had changed. Justine, Jessie and their mother had become integral parts of his life. Sure, there was Toriel here, but she was more like the mother (or second mother) he wished he had. He was missing friends. But all the other creatures in the Underground, except for one or two, wanted him dead or at best avoided him.

“I want to go home,” he repeated in an almost inaudible whimper.

**************************

“Water… A piece of pie… A sweater… The disguise…”

A squeak interrupted him. He looked up from his list to see the gray mouse he had met the first day crossing the sea of dead leaves to join him.

“Well, hello there,” he said with a tired smile. “It's been a long time.”

He had rarely come across it, the little monster running away as soon as a bigger one passed by. But he knew that the mouse was keeping an eye on him because the puzzles were always deactivated the few times he would go.

It climbed up his arm and reached for his hand, in which he held a pen. It glanced at his current list and gave him a questioning look.

“I… That's what I'll need,” he said vaguely before sighing. "I can't stay. Even with all the love Toriel can give me…” He turned his head toward the door of her house with a regretful smile. “…I won't last. I don't have her strength or her will. I have to at least try to get out.”

Something glinted in the mouse's eyes. It rubbed its head against one of his fingers, a gesture he understood to be compassionate, before jumping up on its pad of paper and staring at him with a determined look. He laughed a little.

“Glad to know I'm supported,” he said before turning his attention back to what he would need. “I went to look in the basement and, as I thought, the doors at the end seem to lead to another part of the Underground. I felt a puff of cold air so I grabbed a sweater…”

He saw the mouse nod vigorously.

“Do you know what's back there? Is it that cold?”

The little monster acquiesced twice.

“Oh. That’s good to know. Should I take boots too?”

Another positive gesture.

A leaf fell gently from the branches above him and he caught it in the air. He watched it for a moment before looking around at the now familiar purple walls of the room. He was about to discover a new world. And he knew it was completely crazy what he wanted to try but he would rather take this tiny chance than give up all hope.

He had a plan.

Chapter Text

The cold wind penetrate through his sweater and Charlie shivered. Perhaps a warmer clothing item would have been wise… But how was he supposed to guess that he would come into a completely different season when he exited the Ruins?! That there would be snow and a pine forest under the mountain? He was understanding better the mouse's insistence to take warm clothes and boots and what it tried to tell him.

He looked at the door behind him and pinched his lips together. He felt like he left like a thief in the night. He didn't dare to face Toriel and tell her his project. He felt like either she would have tried to stop him or he would have lost his motivation to do it if he saw her. So he had waited for Toriel to sleep and left her an explanatory letter on the table before sneaking in the basement.

Charlie shook himself and turned away from the door. He wasn't going to double back now. He rummage through his dimensional pocket. He had time to test its limits and find out he could carry about twenty objects in it. The dozen of band-aids with which he had arrived filled most of it. He also had a water bottle, a slid of pie and a monster candy. He didn't take more food because he noticed that touching the golden stars made his hunger disappear. He accidentally took out his usual shoes, replaced with boots he'd taken in his room, before he finally retrieved his ghost disguise.

With this snow, he couldn't pretend to float very near the ground, the cracking of his steps would betray him. On the other hand — he turned the sheet inside out so that the drawing of the face was inside – he could camouflage himself. He covered himself with the clothe, touched the golden star that had appeared as soon as he stepped out and started to move forward, a little warmed up. The trees around him rose so high that no branches appeared before several meters above the ground. The snow reflected a light from an unknown origin, which once again allowed him to see where he was going. For that matter, he didn't know where he was going or what was was in store for him, except monsters that would want his soul. The rare times Borsta visited again, the ghost had seemingly tried to avoid him, probably to prevent new questions. The gray mouse looked like it knew a number of things but unfortunately he didn't speak mouse (or mouse monster, he didn't know if there was a difference). And he didn't find any book with a map of the Underground. If Toriel ever had one, she really made sure she got rid of it.

He continued to walk straightforward, in the kind of snow path the space between the trees was forming. Until he came across a crevasse. It wasn't very wide but deep and long. He would not risk jumping over it. He slipped through the trees to go around.

As he was about to come back on the path, he heard a howl and froze. It was coming from farther ahead. He decided to back up quickly as he wiped off his footprints in front and behind him. He then sat down and curled up, cringing and shivering when the cold made contact with his behind. He watched for what was happening through the holes in the sheet, breathing as slowly as possible to not move too much. He heard irregular and hasty steps that were coming closer. No, not irregular, he realised. Four legs running in the snow.

He then saw a white dog in a t-shirt and shorts coming hurriedly and sliding in a stop before the crevasse. The dog smelled the air with excitement. Charlie felt a cold sweat run on his cheek and gulped. He hoped without believing it that his camouflage would hide his odor too. The dog then turned to his direction, barked and charge at him. He shut his eyes and braced himself for the impact or the fight that would follow.

What a surprise it was when he heard it skirt around him. He opened his eyes, confused. He thought he heard it passing on the other side afterwards, hopping and panting. Then a tongue licked the sheet at his face's level. He let out a little scream and fell backwards with the surprise.

The dog sneaked under the clothe to better lick his face and look at him with excited and sparkling eyes, his tongue dangling.

Charlie stared at the dog, blinking many times. He wasn't expecting that at all and his puzzlement blocked all his thoughts to the point where he needed several seconds before thinking of wiping the drool of dog monster on his face.

"Whelper. What are you doing?" a familiar voice then asked.

The dog suddenly turned around with excitement, sending the sheet flying and falling disorderly on Charlie's head in the process. He quickly pushed it away and found himself staring with wide eyes at a ghost he immediately recognized. The dog got up on its back legs and turned its head towards one and the other, shaking its tail. Borsta looked at Charlie in silence with slightly more opened eyes as usual before slowly letting out a:

"Oh. Snap."

Panic overwhelmed Charlie's mind.

"Don't take me back to the Ruins!" he exclaimed without thinking.

Borsta gave him one of their usual jaded looks in response.

"Kid, I can't touch you, let alone take you back to the Ruins," the ghost said as Whelper turned around them. "Even with a physical body I wouldn't be able to open the door, it's a one-way exit. Plus, I get why one wouldn't want to live in the Ruins."

Charlie turned his head towards where he came from. He didn't know for that detail. That means that even if he wanted to, he really couldn't backtrack.

"Whelper, I just said I wasn't corporeal do I have to remind you again that I can't pet you?" Borsta sighed as the dog jumped through them.

The latter's ears drooped and it hunched its shoulders as it whined.

"Yes, if I was corporeal I would pet you," the ghost sighed again.

Whelper started to jump again like crazy in the snow.

"You understand what it's saying?" Charlie asked Borsta, a bit impressed.

The ghost scrutinized him with their eyes before seeming to realize.

"Ah right. I've forgotten humans can't understand that type of language."

The dog froze while abruptly turning its head towards Charlie and barked with a surprised expression. Charlie gulped. Whelper manifestly didn't figure out what he was before and now he feared what it was going to do.

"Yes Whelper, this is what a human looks like," Borsta confirmed indifferently.

Charlie stared at the ghost with shock. He knew they weren't really friends but for Borsta to tell on him as soon as he came out…

"And he actually have hands to pet so maybe he'll do it if you help him to not be spotted by others," the ghost then suggested still indifferently.

Charlie didn't have time to think anything before the dog leaped at him, licking him even more and rubbing itself against him before it sat in front of him and barked, its eyes filled with hope.

"He covered you with a dog's scent to hide yours from the other dogs," Borsta translated.

Charlie looked up at the ghost with grateful eyes before looking down at the dog monster which he petted hesitantly at first then with joy. It was the first time he was petting a dog.

"Thanks Whelper," he said with a smile before the dog's pleasure.

The monster stretched his neck more than a normal dog could do it and licked again his face before running off on his four legs on the path and Charlie wiped his mouth scowling.

"He'll surely take care of spotting and distracting the monsters he'll met," Borsta said. "You'll be able to move forward safely now."

Charlie smiled gratefully, got back on his feet and got rid of the snow that clung to the black leggings he wore under his overall before retrieving his white sheet.

"He seems kind," he pointed out as he shook the cloth to remove the snow off it.

"He isn't really clever but he's a good dog," Borsta agreed. "He follows me every time I'm going to the Ruins, hoping pets if he "protects" me."

Charlie smiled as he pictured the scene and checked that the sheet was cleared of any snow. The ghost didn't move when looked up again. He lifted a questioning eyebrow and Borsta sighed.

"You remember when I told you Queen would kill me if she knew I talked about Asgore to you? Well she'll annihilate me if I go see her now instead of protecting you."

Charlie nodded. Indeed, make Toriel angry wasn't a good idea. He still remembered for the Froggit and the Vegetoid. He put back his camouflage on and secretly smiled, feeling relieved to know he wouldn't be alone out there.

He set off on the snow path again, closely followed by the ghost.

********************

He didn't see the patch of ice. How would he have been able to with a sheet limiting his vision? As he slid in a totally uncontrolled way towards what seemed to be a cliff edge, a small furious voice in his head wondered why Borsta didn't warn him. He figured just as quickly that the ground must be one of the least interesting things to the ghost. Then he stopped feeling the ice under him.

He just had the time to start panicking as he felt the gravity take him back towards a ground he couldn't see before a soft and cold mattress stopped his fall. Dizzy, it took him a few seconds to understand he landed in a thick mound of powder snow. He struggled in the sheet and icy powder to get rid of them and get back to his feet. If he overlooked the fact that he was freezing, the snow cushioned the impact and he wasn't hurt. It was the positive point. The negative point was that he was freezing and couldn't see how he would go back up. The cornice he was standing on only had a descending snow-covered path, which surely wouldn't help to get back up there.

"Everything's alright, kiddo?"

Charlie started at the question of the ghost, which he didn't see apart right next to him.

"I'm fine, Borsta, but I can't climb back,"  he said as he looked at the edge from where he fell off before looking back down at the ghost. "Do you have any idea?"

"I can't do anything, unless I put you in my inventory, which is impossible," Borsta replied in their monotone tone in which he thought to detect a bit of embarrassment.

"Then we're going on downward?"

"No, that wouldn't get you out of Snowdin fast."

Charlie nodded. Borsta told him it was better for him to not stay there all day as he wouldn't be able to sleep here. The inhabitants of this snowy place were living dispersed and sometimes without a house, and many would be more than delighted to try and harvest his soul. The ghost intended to take him to his home in the next area, Waterfall, where he would be safer to rest.

"So how do we do it?"

"Stay here, I'll look for Whelper, he will be able to bring you up," Borsta informed him before disappearing.

Charlie ended up alone, shivering and rubbing his arms a little to warm himself up a bit. He would have liked to have fire magic like Toriel. He was trusting the ghost. He just hoped he wouldn't die from the cold before the two monsters could arrive.

A morbid thought then crossed his mind. If he died, he'd come back to the last star he touched, that appeared after passing the first monster distracted by Whelper, which would cancel his fall.

He shivered but of repulsion as he realized what he just contemplated. He hated to admit it, but after dying a dozen of times in the Ruins… he was starting to get used to it. He was starting to get used to it and death was scaring him less since it became reversible. And it was frightening him. He was frightened by what he could do if l he forgot the fear of dying. The fear of getting hurt. The fact that he started to think like that was a good indicator it already started to change him. He really has a messed up mind for a 10 and a half years old child.

He was about to pick up the sheet he left in the snow when he heard grumbles on the side. He held his breath and turned his head to see a little monster climbing the snow path without looking up. He had already seen some sort of a bird-dragon-snowflake-like monster and a monster that… he had no idea what that hideous flat thing was supposed to be, both distracted by Whelper. But he hadn't seen a snowman monster like this one yet. He prayed that it wouldn't see him from under his impressive light red stalagmite hat. Unfortunately, the monster raised its head, widened its eyes and charged towards him, shouting.

“YOU!”

Charlie gulped and prepared for the confrontation. Unsurprisingly, the world turned black and his soul appeared.

“ADMIRE MY HAT!”

Charlie blinked, stunned. Had this monster just engaged a fight... just to make him admire its hat? He felt an unpleasant sensation crawl up his back but pushed it aside to focus on the present moment. The monster was manifestly waiting for him to do something, his carrot nose spinning impatiently, so he decided to ACT and Check out the monster to see if he had a chance of surviving it.

As the various fights in which he had found himself went by, he had more and more the impression to perceive in his head the various options which were offered to him as well as the statistics information. He saw in his head that the monster in front of him was an Icecap, a teenager desperately trying to attract the attention of people they crossed on their hat. Attack 11 and Defense 4. He didn't stand a chance.

He felt dejected in advance. With his low stats, his only chance would be to dodge the attacks, but without knowing how they would be, it was very likely that he would die right away. A weary part of his mind thought that at least he would get back before he fell and avoid making the same mistake twice.

“MY head accessory looks awesome!” the monster said in a tone that Charlie really didn't appreciate.

He closed his eyes when he saw white top hats appear and waited for the attack without moving. Except for a strange sensation in his body nothing happened. He reopened his eyes after a few seconds to see stalactites of ice pass through his unmoving soul without doing any damage to it and fall back into one of the hats. He and the Ice Cap stared at his undamaged soul in stupefaction. What had just happened?

“Hey! It's cheating to use blue magic on yourself! the monster complained.”

Charlie fought the anger he automatically felt rising in him at that tone to focus and figure out what had happened. In one of the books about monster magic, there was a section about the different types and colors. The light blue attacks only did damage to things that were moving. Could it be that, with his soul being light blue, it worked on a similar principle? After all, up to this point he had constantly tried to dodge the attacks he received. This was the first time he had not made any movement at all.

If that was the case, then maybe he had a chance after all! He had to try again.

“Is that shapeless thing on your head your hat?” he taunted to provoke the monster, a small satisfied smile on his lips despite himself.

“You're just envious because it's gorgeous!” Ice Cap affirmed in a pretentious way.

This monster was seriously getting on his nerves. Waves of stalactites and stalagmites came towards him and he waited for them without moving. They all passed through his soul without harming it.

Charlie couldn't help but feel a great satisfaction fill him at the bewildered look on the little snowman's face.

He mentally scolded himself. It wasn't his insufferable stepsister. It wasn't Stacy. He was going to be nice now to end the fight peacefully.

“No, you're right, it's impressive,” he Complimented them with a slightly forced smile.

“My hat is too loud for me to hear you!” Ice Cap boasted with a smug grin, sending him attacks that did nothing to him.

Peacefully.

Charlie barely restrained himself from Ignoring them to be nice to them again.

“I was saying that your hat is impressive,” he repeated louder.

“NO KIDDING! Who DOESN’T know?”

Charlie gritted his teeth and forced his breathing to slow as he waited for the attacks to pass. It wasn't his half-sister.

Well, obviously the compliments were just giving them a big head, and it was already big enough. He remembered reading that if one of the opponents in a fight had low enough HP, he would not want to fight anymore and could be Spared. Given their respective stats, he wasn't likely to kill the monster in one hit so it was possible.

He hit the monster with the flat of his dinette knife with restraint. He saw 3 damages in its head. He felt that it was not much for the snowman. The latter huffed disdainfully.

“Where is YOUR hat?” the snow monster asked contemptuously as they sent more attacks at him.

It wasn’t Stacy.

He hit the Ice Cap again with the flat of the plastic blade. 10 damages. He had to calm down. It wasn't-

“I have one and I looove it!” the snowman bragged.

"SHUT UP!" his whole mind screamed and he swung his arm with all his might towards the monster. 40 damages. The hat shattered, the little snow monster gave him a hurt look, turned to dust, and the world regained its colors.

It took Charlie a few seconds to calm down, his knife still out, panting. It took him a few more seconds to become aware of what he had done. He looked down at the small pile of dust almost indistinguishable from the snow at his feet, in which several gold coins were shining. He stopped feeling the cold.

He had wanted to hurt him. So that was what had happened. He had intended to hurt. And his blow had become lethal. That was how monsters worked. He had to go back. Like when he had killed…

He then noticed something. Just like when he had killed the Froggit the first time, he felt that something had grown in him. Frowning slightly, he tried to see his stats in his head. 7 HP. What? He made an effort to focus and see his other stats. Attack 5 and Defense 4. Had his attack ability increased too? Then he saw two other stats he hadn't seen before. 17 EXP and LV 2. What was that?

He thought he heard distant barking that brought him back to earth. He panicked. He looked around with the unpleasant feeling of being watched to make sure there was no one there. He stuffed his knife into one of his pockets, retrieved the gold coins from the ground, mixed the snow and dust, and rubbed his hands and sweater to get rid of it. He then quickly pulled his now frozen sheet out of the mound of snow it had fallen into, and began to shake and tap it to try and thaw it.

He was startled by the sound of barking above him. He looked up and saw Whelper looking at him with a worried whimper.

“Everything okay?” Borsta translated as they appeared next to Charlie who flinched with surprise.

“Like before,” he answered with a pale smile.

It was a lie.

“Whenever you want Whelper,” the ghost said to the dog before turning back to him. “Sorry it took me a while, he was held back by one of his peers.” Borsta examined him with slightly squinted eyes. “Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale to me.”

“It’s the cold,” Charlie asserted, shivering.

It was partly true. He could feel the freezing air of Snowdin again.

He jumped when Whelper licked his cheek. How long had he been dow..? Ah. He was half down. Literally. He looked at the dog's head and front legs, which really were down, then his gaze traveled up the incredibly long body to the top where his back legs and tail were not visible. He understood better how Whelper was going to help him back up now.

“If you say so...” Borsta said as they watched him shove his disguise into his dimensional pocket.

Charlie approached the dog monster, ready to climb up along its stomach. But Whelper seemed to have another idea in mind. As he swung a leg over him to begin the climb, the dog stretched a long, loose neck that went up the cliff above which his head disappeared. Because of course he could stretch his body even further in a logically impossible way. Then Charlie found himself astride, backwards, on the back of the dog, which retracted its body to make it go up along the cliff. Because of course he could do that too. Charlie thought maybe he'd been right when he thought monsters might not have bones. He couldn't ride up on a dog-elevator if it had had a skeleton.

When he got to the top, Whelper clawed into the ice, let go of the trees he was clinging to by his teeth and tail, and brought him to the other side of the patch to keep him from slipping again. Charlie climbed down and petted the stretchy dog a bit.

“Thanks Whelper.”

He received a warm lick on his cheek. Then the dog rubbed against him, circling him. Charlie noticed that his back legs had not moved just before he felt a fluffy weight on his shoulders and head. The monster had stretched its body again to wrap itself around him, its front paws over his shoulders and its muzzle resting on his hair. Charlie was about to ask him what he was doing before he realized he was shivering less. Whelper was trying to warm him up.

He smiled weakly and patted one of its front paws. He noticed on the occasion that the monster's fingers, though dog-like, were organized like a hand (with four fingers) which must allow it to pick things up with its thumb. It was strange to be cuddled by a dog, especially since he had always been wary of them on the surface. He had always been afraid of being attacked. Now he wondered if they were all as affectionate as Whelper. Probably not, just like all people and species.

His mind drifted back to the subject he had been trying desperately not to think about for several minutes. The Ice Cap. He had killed again. And by breaking the rules again. He should have gone back right away. He had the power to undo its death. But... that would also undo the increase in his stats.

And better statistics meant a better chance of survival. Granted, now he'd discovered that the attacks didn't do anything to him if he didn't move. But he wasn't sure if that would work with orange attacks, which were supposed to do damage to stationary things. Not to mention the spells changing the color and properties of SOULs that would most certainly negate this ability.

And he hated himself for it but... he hesitated. He wondered if it was really worth it. He hadn't asked for anything in the first place, it was this monster who had come to bother him after all. And they had been horribly insufferable. But in the end, Charlie had indeed killed them. And that wasn't trivial. He didn't know what to do.

Whelper sniffed his hair and let out a small, questioning grunt. He realized he wasn't cold anymore.

“Everything's good? Are you warm?” a monotone voice asked beside him.

He flinched with surprise. Borsta really had to stop appearing like that without warning. He nodded.

“Yes, thanks Whelper,” he said reaching up to pat the dog’s neck.

The latter licked his hand – and hair in the process, which froze his thoughts in an internal scream – before uncoiling and swelling up his chest with a proud air. Charlie caressed his neck a little more (partly to wipe his hand).

“I think we should go now,” Borsta suggested as they began to float down the path.

Whelper immediately jumped and run ahead. Charlie pulled out his sheet again and covered himself with the cold clothe.

"Let's go," he said as he went forward in the ghost's wake.

They passed near a cliff. A squeak drew his attention. He turned on the side and looked up, searching as best as he could through the holes in the clothe in front of his face. He eventually found a crack from where a familiar snout poked out. The gray mouse pointed the path, as of it incited him to continue, and disappeared in the hole. A big smile remained on Charlie's face. That's why the little monster knew what was on the other side of the Ruins door. The mice had their own passageways to this place, maybe even through the entire Underground. That meant he would see it again.

He turned toward the road to continue – Borsta was waiting for him after all – and his smile melted away. There was a golden star a little further down the road and his inner debate began anew. If he touched it, the Ice Cap would be dead for good. There was no turning back. He bit his lip.

He watched the star get closer with each step.

He walked beside the star.

He touched it.

The warmth and energy that went through him almost covered his guilt and feeling of being watched again as he moved away.

***************************************

He was more careful of the patches of ice and Borsta also made the effort to look at the ground from time to time. Whelper scared a group of monsters looking like reindeer from afar. Seeing his chagrined face when he came back, it was clearly accidental.

They took a break at the top of a hill when Whelper started pushing a huge snowball over some cleared rock and it… started to shrink?

“It’s the Ball Game of Snowdin,” Borsta explained seeing him standing still, his water bottle in his hand, before the sight. “You have to put the ball in the hole before it disappears.”

The dog eventually put the ball in the hole, where it shrank and disappeared. An orange flag popped out of the hole and Whelper retrieved something before coming back. Charlie jumped when a new giant snowball fell from nowhere where the first one had been.

“You want to try?” Borsta asked.

“Hum…” Charlie hesitated as he put back the water bottle in his pocket. “I don’t know? Is that fun?”

The ghost looked at him with a more jaded look than usual and he remembered the obvious. They were a ghost. A ghost couldn't move an object that big.

“I couldn't say, but Whelper seems to think so.”

Charlie figured he could give it a shot. It might distract him a bit. He looked at the ball that was easily his size and tried to push it. It was as heavy as he thought it would be and he almost fell over when he insisted and his foot skidded on the ground.

“This area is pretty safe, kiddo, so you can take off your sheet, that might help,” Borsta suggested.

Charlie thought this was not a bad idea. He removed the white cloth and stuffed it into a pocket. When he looked up, the ball had shrunk by half. He quickly tried to push it again and this time it rolled and slid on the stone. Further than he imagined. It continued to shrink until he reached it and then he pushed it again. It went further and faster, bouncing against the snow that marked the field out. Charlie rushed to catch it as it seemed to shrink faster and faster. He shot the ball, which was now the size of a normal snowball. It slid in the right direction but much too fast and bounced back up again to end up on a small patch of ice on which it finished disappearing.

Charlie gave the ice a dark look before turning to the new giant snowball. From what he understood, the moment he touched it, it began to shrink. He felt that this happened particularly quickly if he broke contact. It also seemed to roll better as it shrank. He observed the terrain better to predict the trajectory to make it take.

He approached the huge snowball under the silent and attentive watch of Whelper and Borsta. He touched the snow with one finger and watched it shrink. He waited a few seconds and pushed it. Then he ran after it when it went faster than he expected. He lost the game again when the ball passed over the ice again and shrank alarmingly before disappearing.

Now determined to succeed in this game, he returned to the starting point, concentration at its peak. He slowly but surely pushed the ball, letting it shrink little by little and measuring the force he used to move it in a controlled manner. It had quite shrunk by the time he turned to face the hole, quickly assessing the distance he still had to go. He looked down again at the ball, which was now the size of a golf ball, and quickly shot it before it shrank any further. Right into the hole.

Whelper barked excitedly and Charlie felt a big smile come over his face. He had done it. He blinked in surprise when he saw the cyan blue flag sticking out of the hole. He didn't think the flag would change color. Let alone this color. He figured it must be a coincidence and came closer. He bent down to see what Whelper had retrieved from the hole when he had won.

“LIGHT BLUE - "Ball" is "Small." You waited, still, for this opportunity... then dethroned "Ball" with a sharp attack.”

Charlie froze at the voice he heard out of nowhere. Okay, now, this was no longer a coincidence. He retrieved the twenty or so gold coins from the hole and walked away, seriously wondering what this game was and if it was alive.

“So?” Borsta asked when he returned to them.

“That game is weird,” Charlie simply said, looking warily at the new “Ball”.

****************************************

They set off again without stopping after that, Whelper still distracting the few monsters they encountered, Borsta and Charlie watching the ground. The light didn't change, but Charlie could feel himself getting tired little by little. He must have been walking for hours with only a nap from the previous day in his sleep counter. He ended up eating the monster candy to regain some energy.

“Hold on a little longer, kiddo,” Borsta said. “We'll reach the boat soon.”

Boat? The ghost hadn't said anything about a boat. Why would there be a boat? What also surprised him was that Borsta had noticed his fatigue whilst he was still under his sheet. The ghost was obviously paying more attention to him than it seemed.

Whelper caught up with them, running and barking excitedly. He was coming back from a chase after some poor bunny monsters who hadn't asked for anything.

“Whelper, be more quiet,” Borsta grumbled a bit, while Charlie petted the very happy dog. “We're going to pass by houses, we mustn't…”

A dog howl sounded and Whelper turned around, pricking up his ears.

“And here comes Dogma again,” Borsta sighed. “Charlie, hide.”

It took him a few seconds to understand, and he dashed to the side to sink into a pile of snow. Whelper hopped and rolled over his tracks to cover them. The ghost had vanished.

Running noises came closer and he saw a black figure emerge from the last bend in the road, running. The monster turned without sliding in their direction, moving on two legs and slowing down as it got closer. Charlie made out a tall white dog with floppy ears under a black hood. It wore gleaming armor plates over its tunic. It took off its hood and walked over to Whelper, arms crossed and a stern look on its face.

“Here you are at last Whelper. You know, the least you can do when someone calls you is answer?”

Charlie blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected to hear this dog speak. Besides, from the sound of its voice it was probably more a female.

Whelper, sitting in the snow, tilted his head to one side with an look that seemed genuinely questioning.

“You're acting really weird today,” Dogma said. “What's-”

She paused, sniffed the air and turned towards Charlie. He stopped breathing and watched the dog approach with furrowed brows, her nose wiggling.

“Whelper, that pile of snow smells funny, did you roll in it?” she finally asked, turning back to her peer, much to Charlie's relief.

The dog nodded and barked with excitement and pride.

“So first you bother everyone, as if bothering this ghost regularly wasn't enough, and now you're rolling around like a puppy in the snow?” Dogma deplored. “What on earth is wrong with you today?”

Whelper let out cheerful barks while shaking his tail.

“All this over one person who petted you?” the dog exclaimed with a look of disbelief.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and then sighed with a desperate face.

“Oh Whelper, how many times do I have to tell you? We may be dogs, but we can still have some dignity. That's the reason you failed the Royal Guard tests.”

Whelper whimpered with a sad look on his face. Charlie frowned behind his sheet. ‘Royal Guard?’ The white dog did indeed look like a guard in armor.

“I know you just want to help, but that's not how you're going to get better,” Dogma said in a softer tone. “Just remember what I told you to practice: wear more proper clothes, respect people's privacy, don't chase them or sniff them without their permission, don't roll around anywhere, don't accept caresses from strangers and, above all, try to resist to-”

She cut herself off and opened wide eyes that instantly filled with excitement.

“STICK!” the dog shouted enthusiastically.

Whelper turned his head sharply and began to wriggle with as much delight as his colleague. Charlie finally spotted a branch floating two meters off the ground. The piece of wood moved left and right and then quickly moved through the air, passing over the two doggies who ran after it barking excitedly, disappearing in the direction from which they had come.

Charlie waited a few seconds in a puzzled silence before moving, turning his head to check that the dogs had left. He stood up and shook himself to try to shake off the numbness he felt from the cold, on the lookout for any sound that would make him immediately return to the snow pile.

“It's good,” he heard Borsta say behind him, startling him. “We can go on now.”

Charlie turned to the ghost and nodded before following him. They walked past small wooden houses at a respectable distance. He glanced at the ghost and noticed that its eyes looked more tired than usual.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Holding an object is hard for a ghost,” Borsta replied without looking at him. “Especially while invisible. And a stick is pretty heavy too.”

Charlie tried to turn his head back but he couldn't see anything behind him with his camouflage unless he turned around completely.

“And Whelper?”

“I couldn't separate him from Dogma like last time,” the ghost said in an indifferent tone. “They are looking for the stick in a pile of branches.”

Charlie felt a tinge of disappointment come over him. He thought the friendly dog would accompany them to the end. He heard the sound of a stream before he saw the river a little further on. Borsta glanced at him.

“Don’t worry, kiddo, he doesn’t take the boat anyway. And he’ll surely drop by Waterfall later.”

Charlie smiled a little, reassured. He was glad to hear that this was not the last time he would see the dog monster. He saw a golden glint out of the corner of his eye. He reached out automatically to touch the star and followed the ghost to the river.

Chapter Text

Charlie was observing the humming person with their back to him, at the front of the boat moving slowly along the quiet river. Or at least the long hooded tunic that didn't seem to have a body to stay on when he had first seen it arrive. Maybe this monster was invisible? Unless their head was completely hidden by the shadow of their hood? Or maybe the long dark cloth was the monster itself. Impossible to say and Charlie was too afraid to ask.

Borsta had assured him that the river person was a harmless person who would lead him to the inhabited area of Waterfall safely. But he couldn't help but be nervous.

First, this individual looked a little too much like the general idea of the ferryman of souls in many myths and beliefs, which was not something that made him feel comfortable. He really hoped he wasn't being led to the realm of the dead.

Second, their wooden boat was very small and seemed to move by itself, which didn't appease him either (fortunately they weren't going very fast.).

Third, they had gone to the left, a different direction than logic would have wanted based on the direction they had taken so far, at least in his tired mind.

Four, fatigue did not make him any more serene.

Five, especially as his camouflage/disguise was very obvious in this situation. They were no longer in Snowdin, the snows had recently disappeared in a fog that had soaked the white sheet - which surely made him very visible on this boat. And since Borsta had disappeared and was later found in Waterfall, this meant that the ghosts were surely not using this means of transportation. So no way to camouflage himself, to pretend to be a ghost, or to remove the sheet soaked in cold water that stuck to his skin. He thought he must look like some kind of white river person if he was seen from afar right now. But he didn't know if the real river person had figured out about him - it was complicated with a lack of facial expressions and their back turned. And he didn't know how this strange character might react if they did.

Six, that was a little too many reasons to be nervous.

He observed the surroundings. He had noticed that the stony wall that bordered the other bank at Snowdin was made of a dark blue rock different from the rest of the place. Now the two banks looked the same.

“Tra la la,” the person hummed again in their toneless voice that was impossible to assign to a gender, before turning the darkness under their hood slightly towards him. “A mask is always temporary... unless you become it.”

Charlie felt an unpleasant chill run through him from head to toe. All right. Seven, their cryptic words were scarier than the song they were humming all along. Was he unmasked as he feared? The hooded figure turned forward again and continued singing as if nothing had happened. He felt the strong desire to jump in the water and finish by swimming now.

He saw blue and pink crystals appearing on the right wall and spotted an opening in the stone a little further down. He hoped that was where he was going to get off. The boat slowed down and stopped. Charlie quickly left the boat, trying not to trip on his wet sheet. The inexpressive voice of the river person made him turn around sharply, on his guard.

“Come back another day. Or don’t. It doesn't matter. Tra la la.”

Charlie hurried to join Borsta who was waiting for him a little further on. Even the ghost had more life in their voice than this person.

Borsta's eyes looked him up and down before they asked: “Why are you shaking?”

“My sheet is wet and cold,” Charlie replied as he continued to shiver.

“Ah. I guess that's a problem,” the ghost half-questioned.

Between the cold and the fatigue, it took Charlie an effort to understand why Borsta would make such an obvious comment. Surely this wasn't the kind of thing ghosts were concerned about. He nodded his head.

“Follow me.”

He followed Borsta without discussion along the path surrounded by the same dark, bluish rocks. There were a few crystals encrusted in them, always blue and pink, but there were quickly fewer as they went up. He blinked, exhausted, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw dark tall grass lit by fluorescent water on the edges of the path. He blinked several times and the vision immediately disappeared. He rubbed his eyes to wake up. This was no time to fall asleep.

Eventually they came to an intersection with a mine-like entrance in the wall in front of them. Charlie could just make out pink and blue sparkles at the bottom. There was a black plaque covered with shining blue glyphs on top.

“Gerson?” the ghost called.

The sound of a chair creaking against the floor echoed in the cavity and Charlie heard heavy, quiet footsteps coming closer.

“Woah there!” an old and cheerful voice exclaimed. “Finally back from her house Borsta? Wa ha ha! Sure took your time today!”

A large old green turtle wearing the stereotypical archaeologist's outfit emerged from the darkness.

“Why are you callin’ me? You've finally found a body that suits you and you want my th-”

The new monster cut himself off when he saw Charlie, in his wet, shivering sheet state.

“Ah,” he let out.

“Do you have a dry towel or something?” Borsta asked.

“Sure, just lemme go get one,” the turtle monster said as he turned around.

The ghost turned to Charlie.

“Stay here a few minutes, I have to go tell my siblings first. Feel free to take something, I’ll pay for it.”

Borsta floated off to the left, leaving Charlie confused, shivering and worried. He thought the ghost was really not afraid to leave him with people he didn't know. Even if it turned out that these people didn't mean him any harm at all. He heard rummaging in the cave and thought that if he had to stay with this Gerson, he might as well not be visible on the path. He entered what was surely the house of the turtle monster.

He was surprised to see a counter with many consumable items for sale. He understood better what Borsta had meant. The bottom of the cavern was strewn with many glittering crystals. The symbol he had often seen since he was in the Underground, the emblem of the Monster Kingdom, the Delta Rune, was engraved large in this same wall.

He was observing what was obviously fruit but in the shape of crustaceans on the counter when Gerson returned from a room to the side behind.

“Here you go, kid,” said the monster, handing him a towel and smiling with all his sparse little yellow teeth. “Dry yourself before you catch a cold. Where is our friend?”

Charlie took the towel through the sheet, not daring to remove his disguise.

“Borsta went to see their…”

“Siblings? Yeah, there’s four of them living in one house, without counting the two kids. They all have to be on the same page before they do anythin’ about their house. Or more or less the same spirits, wa ha ha.” Gerson laughed before scrutinizing him with his only open eye. “Hey, Charlie, that’s right? You ain’t gonna dry if you keep that wet thing on you.”

Charlie froze, the towel around his shoulders in an attempt to soak up the water from the sheet covering him.

“You…” He tried to talk before realizing his mind was empty of words.

“Kid, I know what a human is, I was there at the war, as was that stubborn Borsta by the way.” The monster smiled as he raise his gray eyebrow above his good eye. “When they talked to me about you and their worry that you end up leavin’ the Ruins, I said I could always make space for you to hide if it was to happen. But this ghost is obstinate and I must admit, their idea to take you to their house is better in terms of a less visited corner.”

Charlie blinked many times. Several information had a hard time to make their way to his brain. Borsta and “stubborn” or “obstinate” already had a hard time staying together. Then the ghost talked about him and guessed what had happened today way before it did happen. And they were way older than he thought too.

He eventually removed his sheet, not without apprehension. The monster gave him a kindly smile.

“There he is!” he exclaimed. “Bored face ain’t lied when they said you were an original. Give me that, I’ll hang it out in the dry.”

“I didn’t think Borsta talked so much,” Charlie stated as he gave him the wet clothe.

He wiped the humidity off his body and clothes with relief, then removed his damp sweater and tucked it into his dimensional pocket, while Gerson continued to talk as he made his way to the part of the cave from which he had brought the towel.

“Doesn’t seem like it but of the Blook siblings, they’re the second most sociable. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have any news from Queen. And even if like me they disapprove his plans, Borsta still talks with the King too. Including to try and change his mind.”

Wrapped in the towel to warm up and the gourd out to drink, Charlie raised his eyebrows. Borsta? Sociable? He thought back to the other two ghosts he had seen in the Ruins before. Sure, compared to those two, the jaded ghost must seem like a model of sociability. Then he thought of something else. Four ghosts from the same family… Could it be that the fearful ghost and the angry one were among them? He put the water bottle back in his dimensional pocket. He sincerely hoped not, one of them really seemed to want to bump him off for some unknown reason.

Gerson came back with a blue wooden comb and a small mirror he handed to him.

“Here, looks like you need these,” he explained with a wink (or by simply blinking since he only had one open eye).

Charlie gave him a grateful smile and fixed his damp hair, insisting on the strands Whelper had licked. A shower would have been better but he worked with what he had.

“Thanks,” he said as he held the comb out to give it back.

“Keep it, I have five of these,” the turtle monster kindly refused. “And it’s not like it’s of great use for me now, wahaha!”

To prove that point, he raised his beige hat to reveal the few gray hair still growing on his scaly head.

“Though, you’ve got to give me back the mirror, it's a gift from my son,” Gerson said.

Charlie was observing the inlaid shell in the back of the object. That either must not be found in the area, or must be really rare. If on top pf that it was a gift from his son, he understood that it had value. He returned the mirror to the old turtle and slipped the comb in his pocket with a grateful smile. Then he looked down at the counter. He never had the occasion to spend the coins he collected little by little yet.

“Can I buy one?” he asked, pointing at the odd fruits.

“A Crab Apple? If you want, I’ll even give you a special price: 3 golds the apple, sounds fair?”

Charlie gave him a big smile.

“It’s perfect, thanks.”

He paid the turtle monster and got one of the crab apple. He bit into a piece that looked like a pincer. It indeed had the surprising taste of an apple. He felt a little refreshed.

“Made it, we ended up finding an agreement,” a voice sighed at the entrance of the shop.

Charlie flinched and turned over towards Borsta who really seemed tired now.

“Took you some time,” Gerson noticed before rising a questioning eyebrow. “Warsta?”

“Warsta,” Borsta nodded.

“You still have the ladder?”

“Yes, I checked.”

The ghost looked down at the half-eaten fruit Charlie was holding.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve already paid for it,” Charlie smiled which seemed to make Borsta slightly puzzled. “3 golds.”

The ghost had a spark of comprehension in its eyes and maybe it was just Charlie’s impression but he was certain to see a concealed smile behind their neutral expression.

“Clever,” Borsta admitted. “Is your disguise dry?”

“Adter a few hours, it’ll be,” Gerson answered.

“Alright. We’ll manage without it then.”

“Aaron and Woshua?”

“Aaron and Woshua,” Borsta confirmed.

The turtle monster appeared to know the ghost really well and interpret the few words they let out. Charlie could only assumed they were referring to other monsters although the last name was disconcerting.

He ate the last bite of fruit he had left and gave the towel back to Gerson.

“Thanks for everything,” he said as he followed Borsta towards the exit.

“Bah, t’was not much, kiddo. Feel free to pop by again if you need anything, wa ha ha!”

******************************************

Charlie was walking stiffly, holding back every moment from screaming in disgust at the indescribable but unpleasant sensation the ectoplasm caused with his body. When Borsta talked about managing without his disguise, he didn’t imagine that that would be their idea. To serve as a living disguise. The ghost didn’t looked much more comfortable around him.

He glimpsed through the opaque body of the ghost what looked like a mermaid but with a muscular horse half and a strange short-legged creature that he couldn't make out more clearly. They walked up a path carved into the rock and after several more steps, Borsta rose in the air to free Charlie. He shook himself wildly in an attempt to erase this horrible sensation from his skin. It certainly only lasted for a few seconds but they were long and he’d hated each of them.

“You’re okay?” the ghost asked.

Charlie looked them straight in the eye.

“Never again,” he answered, with a new shiver running through him.

“Sorry, I had no idea of what it would be like,” Borsta apologized. “The house is straight ahead, we won’t run into anyone dangerous for you here.”

Rubbing his arms to try and remove the phantom feeling – ah ah, very funny – he followed the spectrum along the path of dark sand. A minute later, the rocks cleared away to open onto a most peculiar house. It was bluish, round and curved in such a way that it looked like a ghost with a round window as an eye and a small roof that made a pointed hat.

“Knock, knock,” Borsta said in front of the door.

A ghost burst through the wood and threw itself on Borsta, tackling them to the ground with a semblance of arms under Charlie’s wide eyes.

“So that’s it?? He’s here??” the new ghost asked them with an ecstatic smile.

“Yes, he’s here, but please calm do…”

The stranger raised their black ghost eyes with white pupils that seemed to sparkle when they saw Charlie.

“Oooooh my!!!”

They set off towards him with a wide grin and he leaned back when the ghost faced him a little too closely.

“Hello and welcome big boy!! Although you’re not that tall for a human child, are you? Borsta, Chara was taller than that, right?”

“Jolsta…”

“Oh right, sorry, where are my manners!” the ghost apologized. “Let me introduce myself, Jolstablook, it's a pleasure to meet you!”

“That wasn’t what I wanted to say…” Borsta sighed.

Charlie watched as he blinked several times at Jolstablook, who overwhelmed him with a positivity far greater than any other person he knew. The ghost appeared to be lightly colored a cheerful yellow and had on its head what looked like an ectoplasmic summer hat and adorned with a flower of the same "material" (or non-material but he didn't have the strength to ask).

“Charlie, thanks for having me,” he eventually said.

“It’s a pleasure little man!” Jolsta declared before they hopped up and down excitedly. “Oooh, did anyone ever tell you how cute you are?! I love your style! Well, come on in, you look exhausted, sweetie!”

Charlie nodded. Indeed he was and he was trying to slowly integrate the sentences spouted at full speed by the excited ghost. He wasn't used to so many words at once. But the compliments were pleasing.

He saw a golden glint on a side and discreetly touched the star before approaching the house. The door opened and another ghost shyly peeked its head.

“hmm, m-maybe it’d b-be better t-to open the d-door to him,” the latter stuttered in a low voice.

As he moved forward, he recognized them. They were the ghost who fell through the floor in the Ruins.

“Good reflex Shysta!” Jolsta appreciated.

So, if Charlie wasn’t mistaken, there was Shysta, Jolsta, Borsta and so the last ghost should be Warsta… which seemed to be the most problematic of the four from what he understood… He thought back of the other angry ghost in the Ruins. Oh no…

“I really, really, really can’t believe I accepted to let the titch that pushed Shysta come into our house,” an annoyed voice mumbled on the side as he crossed the doorstep.

Charlie took a fearful glance in the direction and met those same eyes narrowed with suspicion he dreaded to see.

“w-warsta, i already t-told you it’s m-me that f-fell,” Shysta timidly rectified.

“No offense, Shy, but you’d take the defense of everybody so I still don’t believe it,” Warsta curtly replied as they seemed to turn slightly red.

Charlie stepped to the side to move away, fearing that the aggressive ghost would attack him, and saw out of the corner of his eye Shysta become a little more translucent.

“Now now Warsta, the good manners! He’s our guest after all!” Jolsta reprimanded them.

“Alright, alright, alright, Jo! I’m the only sane person here but I’m keeping quiet, I get it,” Warsta complained.

“ooooooh…”

Everyone turned towards the new voice. Charlie didn’t look at the inside with his attention taken by the ghost’s argument. He was in a single room lightened by several lanterns, with lots of plush and some dummies against the walls. And in the middle of the room were two little ghosts.

“does that mean that we are insane too, auncle?” the taller of the two asked as ethereal tears came to its eyes.

Warsta seemed distraught and got panicked or black looks from their siblings.

“Ah! No, no, no, Blooky! Not at all it’s just that-”

“That auncle Warsta said again something they didn’t thought, honey,” Borsta sighed as they moved closer to the little sad ghost.

Charlie looked at them with wide eyes. Now he recalled that the ghost had mentioned being a parent but he didn’t realized it until now. The littlest ghost and Shysta also got closer to one another and the adult whispered something to the quiet child which nodded.

“so quysta and i aren’t insane, mada?” the one called ‘Blooky’ asked again.

“On the contrary, you are quite sane for children. I would even say that you’re the sanest of us all here,” Borsta softly answered, looking their child in the eyes.

The tears disappeared without falling and Blooky smiled sightly.

“heh.”

Charlie heard Jolsta and Warsta let out a little sight of relief besides him, which he found a little excessive for a child that just got comforted.

“Sorry for all that, Charlie,” Borsta sighed, “will you stay with the kids while we go get the ladder? So you can sleep upstairs like that,” the ghost thought to clarify for once.

Charlie nodded and the four adults flew up to the ceiling or disappeared. He turned to the two younger ones who were silently looking at him with curiosity. He tried to break the ice.

“Hello?”

Borsta's child looked up timidly at him, while the other, who was certainly Shysta's child, moved back a little in silence.

“oh… hello…”

“Your name is Blooky, right?” Charlie asked them.

“oh, no… it’s just my nickname, but i don’t know why… i'm napstablook… and this is my cousin quystablook.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Charlie smiled.

“hum… excuse me, i forgot your name,” the ghost apologized with a sorry look.

“Charlie,” he introduced himself again with a patient smile.

Napstablook seemingly was a sensitive child and it didn’t bother him to repeat himself anyway. Moreover, he liked their talk speed and the peaceful aura they gave off.

“oh, thanks… you’re a human charlie?”

“Yes,” he acquiesced. “But please refrain from telling everyone about it, okay?”

“mada told us that too…” Napstablook said. “they also asked us to prepare you something to sleep upstairs…”

The base of a ladder then hit the floor with a small thud.

“Thank you very much to…” He hesitated before finding a correct wording. “...both you folks. I appreciate it.”

He wasn't used to using neutral language but fortunately he heard it a lot more since he was in the Underground. He didn't want to disrespect this odd monster family that was welcoming him. He looked up to see three of the adults coming down (Warsta was missing).

“It's okay, kid, you can come up,” Borsta informed him.

Charlie nodded and began to climb the ladder. He was apprehensive but was relieved to see that it was solid and would not budge.

“Umm, sleep well? he wished them with embarrassment.

Jolsta burst out laughing.

“Oh darling, we should be the ones to tell you that, but thanks anyway!”

Charlie legitimately wondered if the ghosts were actually sleeping. He climbed the last rungs of the ladder and found himself on the floor where the window was... well, two windows, one on each side, but they didn't provide much light. In the darkness, he distinguished a tower computer and a crate that seemed to be filled with toys against the wall. There was a sleeping bag on the floor and a stuffed dog on it, like a pillow. He crawled over to them and fell on them, feeling all the fatigue of the day again. He fell asleep when he heard someone singing softly downstairs.

******************************************

He was wandering through a meadow of large, bright blue flowers that lit up the darkness. A few golden flowers mingled with them. With each step, he heard an old conversation that echoed in the silence.

“Miss Necto?”

“Oh please, call me Jane.”

“Alright, hum, I realized that you didn't say the name of the child in your story the other day.”

“Ah, so it’s on your mind.

“How can I check their existence if I don’t have their name?”

“Even with it, people act as if they didn't exist, both them and their parents, who are long gone. And that was not the name they chose.”

“Why didn’t you used this one then?”

“An old habit. They didn’t like their name being used more than necessary and even less when it wasn’t to talk to them directly.”

“…That’s weird.”

“That was one of the things that differentiated them from the others. And it rubbed off on me too. I feel like my ears are ringing when I know someone is talking about me, ha ha.”

“…”

“Hmm, just for this time, I’ll tell you their name but you won’t find them anywhere in the town’s archives. It’s-”

The voice became younger and the interlocutor changed into another child's voice.

“Why did you choose to be called ‘Chara’?”

“It's the name of a star...”

“It's also ‘joy’ in ancient Greek...”

“Oh. I didn't know.”

There were no more flowers. He walked in the darkness until he felt something rubbing against his arms with every step he took. He began to see his surroundings again.

He was in strange tall, dark blue grass. Bluish light came from fluorescent water on each shore. Despite this water, it was very dark in this place. A strange little rectangle lazily flied in front of him. He had to move his loose hair away from his face to get a better look. He couldn’t find either his ribbon or his dinette knife.

There was movement in the grass. Someone sneezed to his left. There was another crouching child who reminded him of one of his half-sister's girl friends but older than him and with boyish hair. To his right, another dark-skinned child caught one of those strange rectangles flying in a net with a graceful movement. He saw a little further on a black hair and a redhead like his half-sister, as well as a blond mane that reminded him of Justine's.

He suddenly felt watched. That's when he saw him. On the other side of the grass. A tall man in black with pale skin stared at him from afar, his hands behind his back. His gray hair seemed to be pulled back. His eyes were not human. They were black holes with white pupils that stared at him through glasses. Two black lines like scars ran from each of his eyes up and down his face. He was smiling from ear to ear.

He sees everything.

The man pulled one of his hands out from behind his back. He was holding a hat of red stalagmites.

Come join the fun!

******************************************

He woke up with a start, sweating. The unpleasant sensation of being stared at had followed him. What a weird dream. Obviously, what had happened the night before had decided to haunt him but most of what he had seen made no sense... Except for the conversation at the beginning which came directly from his memory. He realized that he was strangling the poor plushie between his arms and released it.

He sat up and looked out the window. The light hadn't changed so he had no idea how long he had been sleeping. As always in the Underground... He squinted and got up to look out the window. Was he still dreaming? There were stars twinkling outside. Yet he was still below the mountain, right?

“The crystals on the ceiling of Waterfall are the closest thing we have to talk to kids about the stars.”

Charlie jumped and turned around. He hadn't seen Borsta, who was half-transparent on the other side of the room. He wondered if the feeling of being watched as he woke up was from the ghost.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked in an attempt to start a more natural conversation.

“Perhaps a little more than reasonable time for a human child.”

“… And you've been here long?”

“A while.”

Charlie didn't really feel comfortable. And Borsta's evasive responses weren't helping. The ghost sighed and became more visible.

“You don't speak much, but you observe. Like me,” Borsta said softly, in a less monotone than usual, as they came closer to look out the window. “With experience, you see more things. The good and the bad.”

Charlie still felt uncomfortable. He didn't know what the ghost was getting at. But he didn't feel wary either. Borsta wasn't attacking him.

“Small details that make you happy... Like a spark that you thought forever lost reanimated in the eyes of an old friend. Details that make you sad... Like marks on the skin that are not natural. Details that pique your curiosity... Like a large number of bandages and a fake knife in a child's pocket.”

Charlie looked down. He thoughtlessly put his hand in one of his pockets and felt the hard plastic of the knife and the soft material of the bandages against his fingers before pulling it out.

“And then the expressions and body language have no more secrets. You can see the pain behind the anger. Worry behind irritability. Agitation behind calm. Distress behind a smile.”

Charlie listened carefully, still uncomfortable but calmer. It was the first time Borsta had spoken so much without him asking questions.

“Everything becomes transparent and predictable. The repeating patterns. The secret plans. The weight of bad decisions. But we have so little control over the world…”

The ghost remained silent for a moment before sighing and turning to him.

“It's tiring to see everything. Especially when you have little impact on things. But I want to try despite everything. Despite the things I wish I hadn't seen. Like a paleness from shock. Remorse that weighs on the nerves. A slight detachment. But above all…”

He felt cold, wet metal in his hand. He opened it and saw a gold coin.

“…dust mixed with snow.”

Charlie felt his heart drop in his chest. His hand felt heavy. His knees felt weak and he fell sitting on the floor. He'd left that coin on the ledge at Snowdin in his haste, hadn't he? He pinched his lips and lowered his head, overcome with shame and guilt.

“It's hard to stop a fight against an Icecap if you don't know how,” Borsta said. “I regret that I wasn't there.”

He looked up at the ghost with bewildered eyes. He had expected a reprimand or... or... probably anything more violent. He didn't expect an apology. He didn't understand. Why, the two times he had killed a monster, another monster was apologizing to him? He was the one at fault! What he had done was wrong! It wasn't like he had killed a mosquito. These monsters probably had a family. Why wasn't he punished for that?

He then felt a slight weight on his leg. The gray mouse he was beginning to know well was perched on it. It patted his leg with one of its paws in a compassionate gesture. He felt water running down his cheeks.

He didn’t understand.

“Modous showed up at the house a few hours ago. She was worried and wanted to know how you were doing,” Borsta said, looking at some plush toys Charlie hadn't seen before.

The ghost possessed a large teddy bear and moved closer before sitting down opposite him.

“Do you want to tell us about it?” Borsta asked him in his calm and neutral tone.

The tears continued to roll down Charlie's cheeks. He looked into the impassive eyes of the stuffed animal and then at the mouse, Modous, who were staring at him with an attention that was not oppressive.

He repressed a sob and answered in a choked voice.

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Charlie remained silent, sobs shaking his shoulders, incapable to look Modous and Borsta in the eyes. After recounting what had happened during the fight against the Ice Cap, he had explained his half-sister then drifted on to his entire life before his fall.

He had just spoken out loud for the first time to someone about his childhood. After he having Toriel as a parental figure, putting words on what he had experienced because of his original family made him realized what his childhood was. Abuse. Seeing how Justine and Jessie's mother was towards them and him, he was surprised by her kindness and thought that they were lucky to have such a nice mother. And also for a second that they were lucky to be girls and healthy like his half-sister. Now he realized it was the normal way to treat all children, regardless of gender and condition.

"Well… I can't say I'm surprised," Borsta stated. "That explains your strong survival instinct and your generally thoughtful actions."

"Generally..." Charlie muttered with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Again, the few times he rushed, he had done messy things. And even when he was thinking he did irrevocable things, like choosing to keep that monster dead.

Modous rubbed her head against his hand.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," the ghost said, "you're still a child, and you lived with an abusive father. You had to learn to think of your survival first. And it's normal to make mistakes."

"All my family was abusive," he rectified before adding sarcastically, "and my behavior was worthy of them."

Borsta shook their plush head.

“What you did was wrong, it's true. You wanted to hurt that monster and you did.”

Charlie lowered his head a little more.

“But you’re different from your father. Because you regret. You’re aware of the harm you caused. And you can choose not to repeat that mistake in the future if that’s possible.”

He pinched his lips and didn’t raise his head. To reach his goal, it wouldn’t be possible. A teddy bear paw then touched his knee.

“You’re smart Charlie,” Borsta softly stated. “I don’t think any other kid your age would have thought of disguising themselves like you did to get around here. You’ll know what to do in the future.”

The ghost then left the plush which fell back to the ground inanimate.

“I'll let you think about that. You can come down to eat if you want, Gerson brought back your disguise and left some fruit and tea for you.”

They started to leave through the floor then stopped and slight went up.

“By the way, I don’t know what to think of the imitation,” Borsta added. “Oh well. I don’t know yet what it looks like when you wear it in the right way so I’ll see.”

The ghost disappeared in the floor? The mouse looked at him and gave him a little squeak of encouragement before starting to head for a wall where there was surely a hole.

“Hey, uh, Modous right?” Charlie stopped her.

The mouse turned and nodded.

“Thanks for listening to me. And for still following me. I appreciate it.”

Modous gave him another squeak that made him slightly smile before disappearing entirely in the darkness. He looked again through the window. The crystals twinkling on the ceiling really looked like stars from here. He missed the stars.

He looked down. He was so tired the day before he didn’t take the time to really watch the new landscape. From what he had seen for now, the area was pretty dark. The crystals were lighting a little but that was all. No wait. By focusing he could make out what resembled somewhat luminous plants. He thought he might explore to see. It would take his mind off things and/or allow him to reflect peacefully.

He went down to the first floor, in the soft light of the lanterns. Of the four ghosts here, Warsta saw him immediately. They sighed and grudgingly head for the door as they mumbled.

“I’m out, I’m out, I’m out…”

“Don’t bother, I’m leaving!” Charlie intervened before turning to Shysty who was seemingly eating an ectoplasmic meal with the two kids. “Hello.”

“hello,” the shy ghost replied and moved to a fridge Charlie hadn’t noticed before. “you… do you want s-something?”

“I’d like to try some of Gerson’s tea,” he said, looking around for his disguise.

He suddenly got hit by the sheet in his face.

“There, here’s your disguise!” he heard Warsta snicker. “And good riddance!”

There was no denying it, this ghost really didn't like him and it was starting to be mutual.

“oh. so you’re really leaving?” Napstablook asked with a disappointed face.

“I am just going for a walk,” Charlie corrected and retrieved the little bottle Shysta was handing him. “Thanks.”

“f-feel free to go see o-our farm nearb-by,” the ghost stuttered. “borsta is i-in charge of it t-today.”

He nodded and walked to the door. Warsta surprised him by opening it. He was about to thank them when the ghost cut him off as they leaned in very close.

“I’ve seen lots of humans, I was in the war and I know your type,” the monster muttered, just loud enough for only Charlie to hear. “You look innocent, harmless, helpless! But I know how well you hide your game. I have my eye on you kid and if you become a danger to my family, I won’t hesitate to act accordingly.”

Charlie gulped and quickly nodded his head. He hurried to get out under the burning and wary stare of the ghost, and jumped when the door slammed slightly behind him. He wondered if that irritable ghost had heard the conversation he just had with Borsta… In any case, the fact that Warsta was aware of his potential to do harm and reminded him of it didn’t put him at ease.

He looked around him. There was a path on the side of the house leading to a little meadow surrounded by barriers. As he suspected that it had to be the farm Shysta talked about, he decided to go back the way he had come the day before instead. He didn’t feel like seeing Borsta again right now. He put on his disguise, touched the golden star that was there and left.

He wasn’t used to walking on sand but he remained discreet by going slowly. He went back to where the two monsters were the day before. No one for now. He observed the little pond of dark water then looked at the paths he could take. There was one on his right, another ahead of him, one to his left and a second one behind him near the one he just came from. He noticed a wooden sign on the left and went to see. The latter indicated:

North – Blook Acres

East – Hotland

??? - Temmie Village

He frowned. “North”? “East”? How would anyone be sure of these directions without the sun? He looked at the two paths side by side that were in front of him now that he was facing the sign. Unless it was a point of reference to know in which direction to turn after facing the sign? If the Blook Acres were to the “North”, the East was to his right so the road past Gerson’s lead to that “Hotland”. However that was strange that this “Temmie Village” had no direction. Why put it on the sign in this case?

He went to see the path at the “South”. It was dark and an odd smell was coming from it, like a stench of garbage. He decided to pass and went to see the “West” path. A bluish light and a slightly salty smell were coming out of it. Intrigued, he went forward and ended up in cavity illuminated by fluorescent water that lazily flowed from one side of the path to the other, cutting it with a trickle that he could easily step over. But he didn’t go over it. He froze, flash-backs from his dream coming back to his mind.

It didn’t make any sense. He never saw any water like this one before this moment. Nor tall grass like the ones further down the path. How could he have seen such a similar place in a dream before he discovered it in real life? It wasn’t possible to imagine something that similar without ever having seen it. What was happening to him?

He began to tremble as he thought back to the tall man in black who was staring at him in his dream. He felt watched again. He looked around, paranoid and fearing that he would see that smiling deathly pale face at any moment. Was this his punishment for killing that monster and leaving it dead? Being haunted by this thing?

He then saw a couple of yellow birds watching him, hidden in reeds in the water. Oh. That's all it was. He sighed and calmed his breathing. This place was really disturbing him. And not just Waterfall, the whole Underground. Ever since he was here, this place kept messing with his head by changing the laws of the world. Monsters existed. So did magic. His soul seemed to have magical properties too. He had dreamed of things he had not yet seen. Food healed. Stars that only he could see healed him. It made hunger and thirst disappear. Allowed him to go back in time. Undo his death. For crying out loud, he didn't even know how he had survived his fall in the first place!

His thoughts froze. He had never thought about it but... He had survived that fall... Right?

He sat up and removed his sheet to the birds' manifest surprise, but he needed to breathe. And he had a feeling they weren't going to attack him anyway.

How could he have survived his fall? It was one of the first questions he had asked himself when he woke up down here but he had never thought about it. And the chances of that happening were small but not impossible... except that he hadn't had a single injury from that fall. And that wasn't possible. Had he died and come back? But he had never touched any stars at that point. Was he... dead at all? Or in a coma? And everything he'd been experiencing for weeks was a dream, a hallucination, or the afterlife? That would explain a lot of things that didn't make sense. But he didn't like the idea that he was... dead dead.

He shook his head and pulled Gerson's tea from his pocket. No, it was certainly not that. There was probably another explanation. He just didn't know it at the moment. Many things seemed too real, like the salty smell of the water here, not to be.

He opened the small black bottle and was surprised to see bluish light coming out of it. The liquid inside looked like the one around him, with a stronger smell. He took a sip to test it. It was indeed salty but at the same time thirst-quenching and not bad at all. He quietly drank the rest while looking at the starry ceiling of glittering crystals. He had to stop thinking about things all the time. A little break like that would do him good.

******************************************

He turned around, avoided some blue Moldsmals and went to take the “East” path. A garbage dump. The path that smelled like garbage led to piles of trash floating or sinking in the water. Logic. He didn’t even know why he had bothered to go look. Or well yes, his curiosity. He walked past Gerson’s shop and briefly waved his arm behind his sheet to greet him. He wanted to explore but he hadn't been able to bring himself to go through the tall grass on the other side after that night's dream so he was left with only the path to Hotland. He continued down the dark stone corridor in front of him and eventually saw faint bluish and white lights at the end. As he approached, he began to hear unintelligible whispers then the gurgling of falling water. He walked ahead with prudence and calm, preparing himself to see monsters and pretend to be an odd silent ghost. A little spark of white light passed before him when he emerged from the hallway.

Surprised, he stopped and looked at the empty cave. He couldn’t see any monster in here – unless if all those funny little ball of light peacefully flying around were. Yet he was well and truly hearing whispers and that didn’t came from the floating lights. Nor the two waterfalls lazily flowing on the path. He saw black plaques covered in blue ancient writings on the walls. By focusing, e managed to identify the words written and realized they must be recounting the monsters history. He went to see the next plaque. Indeed, this looked like what he read in the books, talking here about the Barrier and the necessity to have 7 human SOULs to break it.

He looked down at the water of the first waterfall, lifted the bottom of his sheet and carefully put a foot in to test the depth. Fortunately, he had kept his waterproof boots on since the day before. The water reached his heel. He grabbed folds of the sheet in each hand and raised his arms to cross without getting his disguise wet. He was definitely going to have a hard time passing for a ghost since he had come out of the Ruins, first snow and now water everywhere. Would his costume really help him in these conditions?

He looked at the third plaque between the two waterfalls. Now, that wasn't in the books. The monster who did those plaques manifestly didn’t have any hope, thinking the mountain had no entrance or exit.

“They didn’t think someone was going to fall here…” he mumbled without realizing it.

“They didn’t think someone was going to fall here…”

He jumped backward and raised his head as he heard his voice above him. He then understood from where the blueish light illuminating the place and felt his blood drop to his feet. Large, glowing blue flowers quivered gently from the top of the ledge from which the waterfalls flowed. The same flowers as his dream. With each rustle his sentence was repeated in a whisper that gradually became distorted and joined the general murmur that reigned from the beginning.

“They...dn’t think someone was...o fall here…”

“Y...think someone...s...here…”

“Someone’s… Here…”

He quickly crossed the other stream, splashing the bottom of his sheet in his haste. Now he felt like he was hearing phrases to himself in the muddled whispers and he didn't like it.

“…sees every… …talks in… …ome join…”

He had to get out. He hurried down the stone road on the other side and kept going until he could no longer hear the whispers. That place was frightening, he understood why he didn’t see anyone there. He poked at the bottom of his disguise and winced at the contact of the wet fabric against his skin. Once again, haste had made him make a mistake, he scolded himself mentally while wringing out the sheet. He stood up and continued to follow the path.

It was getting more and more darker and his disguise didn’t help to see better. He ended up guiding himself by keeping a hand against a wall, hoping not to run into any monster. At a corner, he couldn’t see anymore but felt the texture of the ground changing under his feet. He looked down and observed curiously the black grass dotted with fluorescent blue blades that seemed to draw a path on the ground. He followed it while avoiding to bash into the walls he felt but didn’t see on either side.

He ended up at a circle of grass in the center of which stood dull mushrooms. As he looked up, he could see trees that were also fluorescent blue but whose glow illuminated nothing. There wasn’t any other path defined by the grass. He looked at the mushrooms, slightly put out, then touched one with the tip of his foot as he wondered why they weren’t luminescent like the rest. These then lit up with a high-pitched squeak and a new path of grass emerged from the circle. Surprised, he tried again to touch the mushrooms that turned off as well as the path.

He looked around him, trying to see in the darkness if there were any monsters nearby, then he crouched with curiosity and half removed his sheet to better observe those funny mushrooms. Was it some sort of switch? Like a puzzle? He poked one with his fingertip. A new little squeak and they started to glow. The path was lit up again. How could the light of the mushrooms light up the grass? Mushrooms and grass were living beings, not mechanisms! He poked several times the mushrooms to check out, turning them off and on as he did. They had the same texture as the real ones. Well that was fascinating. And amusing…

“Hi!!” a childish voice behind him shouted.

He jumped and turned with panic to find himself almost face to snout with the monster that had just appeared.

“I am Temmie!” the creature declared and opened its eyes wide with excitement before screaming. “You are a human?! So cute!!”

He had such a hard time figuring what was in front of him that he didn't notice right away that the darkness surrounding him was now that of a fight. This monster looked like a cross between a white little dog and cat in a T-shirt, with black hair and four ears, two pointy on top of its head and a rounded one on each side of an ecstatic face. It stood on long, floppy legs to level with his face. Then like a rubber band, it went back to where the tips of its legs touched the ground as they shortened. And stood there, vibrating on the spot as it stared at him with its slightly shifted eyes with a delighted smile.

Charlie felt deeply disturbed by that monster, that Temmie. Though it wasn’t the weirdest one he had ever seen, this one made him very uncomfortable. Now he figured why the direction to their village wasn’t indicated if they were all like that. His nose also tingled and his skin itched. Like an allergy.

He looked at his options in his head and immediately considered to Flee. Only Temmie got all its attention on him and didn’t seem to want to let him go so his chances of success were slim. He Checked it, fearing what he would see. He winced with despair. Her statistics were blurred, showing only “TEM”. He was allergic. And she wanted to pet him. Great.

He looked at the monster who was vibrating so much that her face seemed out of alignment wiht her head. She made him think of a bomb about to explode. He began to pray that she wouldn’t explode.

“HUMAN!” Temmie exploded as she run towards him on long legs.

His arm moved by itself. He had to not let that thing get close to him. He founded himself covered in dust without understanding what was happening, his dinette knife in hand. Since when was the knife in his hand? It took him a few seconds to realize the faint blue light he was seeing was no longer his soul but the mushrooms. The fight was over.

He felt nauseous. He did it again. He killed a monster once more. He felt something had grown in him again, but he didn’t dare to look at his statistics.

He took his head in his hands. It was getting worse. He didn’t even realized he took his knife out of his dimensional pocket. He was more and more reckless and impulsive. That wasn’t him. He was becoming like his father.

“You’re different from your father.” Borsta’s words came back to his mind. “You can choose not to repeat that mistake in the future if that’s possible.” Too late. He just made the mistake again. Involuntarily this time but he made it anyway. Another monster had died by his hand.

He then released the pressure he was applying to his head. Dead but not yet permanently so. He had still only made one of the two mistakes he had actually made so far. “You’ll know what to do in the future.” It was a mistake to decide to keep the Ice Cap dead. He wasn't going to do that a second time. He had to go back in time.

He thought, even though it was very far from pleasant, about ways he could die as soon as possible. Maybe those luminescent mushrooms were toxic? Or he could try to drown in the waterfalls of the whispers room? Or wander without his disguise until he ran into a monster and let them kill him… He grimaced. No, he really didn’t like the idea, and he knew he would try to survive, eating monster food, poking his head out of the water and killing a new monster for sure. But he had to die to get back to his last anchor point in time.

Then he realized that perhaps it wasn’t the case. The second time he went back, he didn’t remember dying. What had happened again? He was in a huge panic because he thought he was going to die. Alright but there had to be something else, right? He realized that yes and that it was this very thing that happened each time he died. He refused to let things go on like this. He wished for a second chance. He wanted to go back.

He closed his eyes and focused on that desire. He didn’t want to leave that monster dead. He wished to change his actions. He refused to continue being violent.

He felt a wave of burning willpower rise within him. He refused to become like his father!

******************************

He was under his disguise, his hand in a golden star. He turned around and saw the Blook’s house behind him. He rummaged in his dimensional pocket and took out the tea that he had drunk entirely before. He smiled and let out a small laugh of relief. He’d done it! He had gone back in time and without dying! Borsta had been right. He had known what to do. Maybe he wasn't such a hopeless case after all!

He turned toward the side path leading to the small meadow. Borsta had to be there. He went there this time.

He didn’t really know what he was expecting in terms of farm but he would have thought there would have been something else than just grass behind the fences. Why was grass behind barriers if there was nothing in it? Actually no, there was not nothing by taking a closer look. The meadow was swarming with snails. Toriel would have probably loved it.

He continued on his way and found another line of fences behind which the grass was hardly present, unlike the snails. Okay, maybe it was a snail farm then? The idea seemed absurd to him but it wasn’t impossible. He only saw Borsta when the ghost gradually became visible as he approached the enclosure. They turned towards him and watched him move forward in silence.

“No, I can’t figure out if that’s flattering or offensive,” Borsta finally let out, certainly talking about the disguise. “Did you reflect a little? You can take more time than that to…” They slightly frowned. “What are you-?”

Charlie cupped his arms around the ghost.

“Kiddo?”

“Thanks for listening to me earlier,” he said. “And to believe in me.”

He regretted a little that he couldn't really hug Borsta, but he hoped that the ghost monster understood what he wanted to convey to them.

“I can't say I expected it,” Borsta said with genuine surprise in their tone.

Charlie looked up and saw he was holding emptiness in his arms. Borsta had come out of his embrace and was standing one step away from him.

“But no worries, Charlie,” the specter continued. “I'm used to it. I mean, you've got to see what my kid is like? And the rest of my family?”

Borsta said this in a serious manner, but Charlie chuckled a little.

“It's true that you must be the only ghost in your family to keep a cool head no matter the situation. Jolsta seems to get excited over nothing, Shysta seems to be afraid of a lot of things, and Warsta seems to cause you a lot of trouble.”

“Not badly analyzed.”

“Warsta doesn’t like me at all by the way.”

“They are the oldest of us. I saw the war but they took part in it. It has left some after-effects. They’ve always been overprotective of us and are a bit rough but you can't really blame them after that.”

Charlie nodded his head. It was true that Warsta had all the reasons not to be pleasant with him with what they had to live.

“Even if their bad temper and constant distrust caused us more problems than ne-”

A small noise in the pen interrupted them and caught their attention. Charlie turned his head to see what looked like a ball of paper in the middle of the snails.

“Was this already there?” he asked, glancing at Borsta.

“No, that must be from our neighbors," the ghost sighed, looking up. “They’re a little weird.”

Charlie looked at the top of the cliff bordering the pen and whose edge he could make out. Two questions came to his mind. If monsters lived up there, how did they manage to get up there? And in second:

“Weird? You mean more than your family? That’s possible?” he asked teasingly.

“Heh. Wait until you meet them and you can judge for yourself.”

Charlie gazed at the ball of paper, hesitating to go and get it but he was afraid of crushing snails in the process. He ended up simply leaning his arms against the wooden fence and contemplating them slowly moving.

“So, you have a snail farm,” he said.

“All they need is a meadow and a meadow doesn’t require lots of materials to maintain. It’s perfect for immaterial beings.”

“Toriel would love this place,” Charlie sighed, feeling a surge of melancholy.

He left the goat monster the day before and he started to miss her.

“She loved this place,” Borsta corrected. “She was our most regular customer.”

“Customer? You’re selling them?”

“One has to make a living. Where do you think her best snails for her pies come from?” the ghost asked with sarcasm. “I bring some to her each time I visit.”

Charlie continued to stare at the little mollusks, thinking back to the smile on Toriel's face when she came out the kitchen with a snail pie, which he made an effort to eat to please her even though he was not fond of the main ingredient. He caught himself wanting to eat one.

“By the way, Jolsta went to see her to give her some news about you and bring her some in passing.”

“Oh.”

So that was why the jolly ghost wasn’t here. Would Toriel want to convey a message to him? He wondered apprehensively what she would say.

“She won’t leave the Ruins, will she?” he ended up asking.

“No. She must have been there for twenty years and it’s not about to change. She's a first-class stubborn one,” Borsta affirmed.

Charlie felt a tinge of sadness unexpectedly sting him. Toriel might well worry enormously for him, the mission she had assigned herself to help all humans that would fall in the Underground was no doubt too important to her to let it go. Like Borsta just said, she was stubborn.

“mada?” a little shaky voice called.

Charlie turned towards the path he came from to see a Napstablook with tear-filled eyes holding a paper ball in a semblance of an arm.

“What’s going on Blooky?” their parent instantly asked. “Did someone throw this paper ball on you?”

“oh this? no, i found it on the ground when i came…” the young ghost said before looking at Charlie. “oh… are you a cousin?”

“What?” Charlie wondered as he looked down on his sheet, then figured out the source of the confusion and removed his disguise. “Ah no. It’s just me.”

“oh okay…”

“Blooky, something’s going on right?” Borsta asked again to bring their child back on topic.

“oh, um…”

Napstablook then seemed to remember why they came here and tears filled their eyes again. Everything went black when they cracked.

“auncle shysta got scared of a mouse and took refuge in the elephant plushy by accident and couldn’t get out of it. quysta disappeared when auncle warsta started to get angry. and now auncles shysta and warsta are turning the whole house upside down to find in which object quysta took refuge in and i didn’t know what to do then they asked me to come out,” the young ghost sobbed, their white tears flying in all direction.

Charlie opened wide eyes when he saw some of them rushing at his SOUL that just appeared. And he fought all his instincts to stay still and not be hit. He understood better the general panic of the day before when Napstablook was just about to cry.

The world suddenly got his colors back and he saw the young ghost with a headset on their head connected to a walkman, eyes wide opened and dry, calmer.

“Is that better?” Borsta breathed out

“yes…” Napstablook nodded with a relaxed face.

“THAT WAS CLOSE! GOOD THINKING MX BORSTABLOOK!” said a voice behind Charlie.

He jumped and turned around to see the newcomer he hadn’t heard coming. It was a skeleton that had to be around his size, holding a wooden box in his arms and wearing an orange and blue stripped T-shirt and shorts hanging loose on his bones – like Charlie’s clothes. He sported a smile that was missing a tooth and his white pupils floated in his dark sockets, one of which was slightly bigger than the other.

“For the I-don't-know-how-many-times kid, you can just call me Borsta,” the adult ghost sighed. “We're neighbors, not acquaintances.”

“BUT CERTAINLY, ONLY, FOR THE I-DON’T-KNOW-HOM-MANY-TIMES-PLUS-ONE, I RESPECT YOU TOO MUCH, MX BORSTA,” the young skeleton replied as his smile widened.

“Clever boy,” Borsta let out before sighing. “Alright, stay here children, I’m going to go stop my siblings from destroying the house.”

“The ghost went towards their house and Charlie heard them mutter:

“We really need to get rid of that stuffed elephant…”

He then looked at Napstablook who was floating softly, looking like they were listening to something in the headset.

“DO YOU NEED SOME MORE TIME TO CALM DOWN, NAPSTA?" the skeleton asked, whose voice's intensity startled Charlie once again.

“yes, i think…” the ghost answered.

“IN THAT CASE, I WILL RESPECTFULLY DISTANCE MYSELF TO NOT DISTURB YOUR SERENITY WITH MY STRONG VOICE,” the other monster affirmed as he started to step backwards. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO ‘QUIET WATER’?”

“yes…”

Charlie watched the skeleton nod with an approving smile, still backing away.

“SO CLOSE YOUR EYES, TURN UP THE SOUND, AND IMAGINE YOURSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST PEACEFUL PONDS OF WATERFALL.”

Charlie watched as Napstablook closed their eyes and seemed to relax a little more. Then he saw the ghost become more and more translucent until it disappeared. He didn't dare turn back to the skeleton right away. This young monster looked nice but his eyes did not make him feel comfortable. They reminded him of those of the scary man in his dream.

“YOU ARE A WEIRD MONSTER, YOU,” his voice then said, closer than it should have been.

He jumped again and turned to the skeleton. He was still holding his box in his arms and watching him curiously, his skull tilted slightly to the side. Charlie began to panic inwardly. He had taken off his costume and now a monster he didn't know had seen him. Then he thought back to Whelper not knowing he was human until Borsta said so and relaxed a little.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” he stated while trying to keep an impassive face.

“YOU WERE NOT HERE LAST TIME.”

“Oh, I…”

C harlie cogitated intensely.; The skeleton was certainly talking about the last time he had visited the ghost family, perhaps even the day before. How to explain his sudden arrival? Then he realized he could partly tell the truth.

“I’m just passing by. I got lost and Borsta found me. They’re helping me going home since I don’t live in the area.”

“OH ALRIGHT! YOU WERE LUCKY TO COME ACROSS THEM. BORSTA IS VERY HELPFUL, EVEN IF IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE IT AT FIRST SIGHT. BUT LIKE MY PARENTS ALWAYS SAY, ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS. OFTEN. AND BORSTA IS ONE OF THOSE WHO TAKE ACTION.”

The skeleton then looked towards the place where Napstablook had disappeared before leaning towards him.

“HEY, SINCE NAPSTA IS LOST IN THEIR MUSIC WORLD BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY SECRET, I’M GOING TO TELL YOU!”

Charlie blinked. But wasn't it precisely the skeleton that had made the ghost get lost in the music? And he wanted to share a secret with him? When they had just met? He didn’t have time to ask himself more questions, the young monster had crouched to put his old wooden box on the ground. Charlie briefly noticed he was wearing only mismatched socks at his feet before his attention was drawn back on the box by the hand the skeleton proudly placed on it.

“I’M A GENIUS,” he revealed and gestured with his free arm in all directions as he spoke. “YOU SEE THIS BOX? I MANAGED TO CREATE A DIMENSIONAL SPACE TO WHICH I LINKED IT AND THEN I ASKED GERSON TO DUPLICATE IT AND THEY BOTH SHARE THE SAME SPACE!”

He seemed to wait a reaction from Charlie which didn’t understand where the skeleton wanted to get at. He looked in the direction that the outstretched bone hand was pointing and then noticed a similar box a little further behind the monster. He didn’t see it before.

“I FOUND THE WAY TO CREATE DIMENSIONAL BOXES! PUT AN OBJECT IN ONE, YOU CAN ACCESS TO IT WITH THE TWO!”

“Oh!” Charlie said. “That's nice! Is that your secret?”

“THIS? NO THAT’S MY INVENTION,” the skeleton refuted him. “THAT WAS JUST TO GIVE YOU CONTEXT SINCE YOU DON’T KNOW ME YET!”

O…kay? This skeleton was a curious person.

“MY SECRET IS…” the young skeleton began, looking left and right to make sure no one else was there. “I INVESTIGATE ON TEMPORAL ANOMALIES!”

Charlie blinked several times.

“What?”

“AH! I WAS WAITING FOR THIS QUESTION!” the skeleton exclaimed excitedly. “WELL, I WAS WAITING FOR A QUESTION, NO MATTER WHICH. IT'S BEEN HAPPENING FOR A FEW WEEKS, IN A COMPLETELY RANDOM WAY. MORE OR LESS STRONG SENSATIONS OF DÉJÀ VU. OR RATHER DÉJÀ LIVED, OR RATHER! PREMONITION! THE FEELING OF KNOWING WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE NEXT FEW MOMENTS, OR EVEN NEXT FEW HOURS! THE KIND OF THINGS IMPOSSIBLE TO KNOW UNLESS YOU HAVE LIVED IT ALREADY! BECAUSE I AM INDEED CONVINCED THAT THE WORLD RETURNS MORE OR LESS IN THE PAST WHILE LEAVING THESE SENSATIONS!”

Charlie unconsciously gulped. That wasn’t possible right? He couldn’t be talking about all the times he rewound the time right? He had already established that no one but him remembered those moments.

“For real?” he asked, trying not to let anything show.

“YES! AND I EVEN FOUND THE WAY TO PROVE THAT I'M NOT SPINNING YARNS!”

“For real?” Charlie repeated and felt a bead of sweat run down his skin.

“I TOLD YOU. I’M A GENIUS,” the skeleton said smiling confidently with his fingertips together in front of his face. “IT HAPPENED AGAIN EARLIER AND I WAS PREPARED IN CASE IT WOULD HAPPEN AGAIN!”

He turned to the snail pen and waved his hand. The ball of paper in it flew up and landed in his palm before Charlie's wide eyes.

“I WROTE DOWN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE INFORMATION ABOUT WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN – TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE FACT THAT I WAS NOT COMING RIGHT AWAY THIS TIME – ON DIFFERENT PIECES OF PAPER THAT I HAVE NOT TOUCHED UNTIL NOW.”

He handed the ball to Charlie.

“READ! YOU’LL SEE!”

Charlie unfolded the ball of paper with apprehension. It was…

“Are those drawings? I thought you had written?” he asked, surprised. “Besides, they don't make any sense..?”

“DO NOT LOOK! IT’S MY SECRET WRITING!” the skeleton panicked. “TURN OVER THE PAPER.”

Charlie complied and squinted in an attempt to figure out the almost illegible writing.

“‘PROBLEM AT THE BLOOK HOUSE. NAPSTA WILL ARRIVE’,” he read with difficulty while trying again to keep an impassive face.

He remembered when the ball had landed there. Napstablook probably hadn't even left their house yet.

“You could've sent it to us to warn us of what you’d seen,” he argued, trying to convince himself.

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT PEOPLE WOULD THINK SO I WROTE THIS SECOND MESSAGE!” the skeleton smiled as he pointed behind Charlie.

He turned around to look at the paper ball that Napstablook dropped during their tear crisis. He went to pick it up and unfolded it to read it.

“‘NAPSTA CRY. BORSTA STOP THEM WITH MUSIC. BORSTA ASK THE CHILDREN TO STAY HERE AND LEAVE.’”

He swallowed and forced an incredulous smile.

“Alright, that’s troubling but you could’ve predicted it as you know your neighbo…”

He trailed off, his eyes fixed on the young monster's bony finger pointed at the box behind him. The skeleton was still smiling.

He approached the object, making an effort to breathe calmly. It was just a harmless magic object, nothing to make a fuss about. He crouched and opened it. It was empty.

“Er, is that normal that there’s nothing in it?” he asked, closing it.

The skeleton then rummaged in one of his short’s pockets and took out a third piece of paper he showed him before putting it cautiously in his box and closing it. Charlie opened back his and, after a second, took the paper laying flat in it. It took him a few seconds to make out the words and he felt himself turn pale.

‘THE FAKE GHOST GOES EXPLORING WATERFALL.’

He started to shake and dropped the paper. He knew. He knew about the walk he took before rewinding time. He remembered what he had erased by going back.

There was another note behind the paper. ‘BORSTA HELPS A HUMAN.’

He saw mismatched socks entering his field of vision and raised his head. The skeleton stared at him with his big, strangely benevolent, one-tooth-less smile. He leaned over and held out his hand to him.

“HELLO HUMAN CHARLIE, IT'S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU! MY NAME IS WINGDINGS BUT YOU CAN CALL ME WING!”

Chapter Text

Charlie stared, motionless, at the young skeleton still holding out his hand, his thoughts upside down.  

“UM, DON'T HUMANS SHAKE HANDS TO GREET EACH OTHER? Wingdings asked. STRANGE, I THOUGHT IT WAS ONE OF YOUR CUSTOMS.”

“Ah no!” Charlie finally woke up. “I mean yes it’s one of our customs but no it’s not that it’s just… I didn’t expect this at all I… You’ve messed with my head…”

“THANKS.”

“But you're not going to turn me in, are you?” Charlie worried, finally shaking his hand.  

Against his skin, the monster’s bones were lukewarm and rigid, without being hard.

“NO, WHY?” the skeleton questioned while helping him to his feet.

Charlie released his hand and blinked several times, confused.

“I don’t know. Or well I mean I’m a human and…”

“I AM NOT GOING TO PUT MY STRONGEST LEAD ON TEMPORAL ANOMALIES AT RISK!” Wingdings replied, waving his hands. “YOU’RE THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHO SEEMS TO BE FULLY AWARE OF IT.”

Charlie took his head in his hands.

“How did you realize that… I thought I was the only one who remembered…”

“OH, I DON’T REMEMBER,” the skeleton belied, “BUT I HAVE VERY STRONG INTUITIONS WHEN I SEE AGAIN THINGS SEEN BEFORE A RETURN IN TIME. AND I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE. HOWEVER YOU ARE THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHICH, LIKE ME, CHANGED WHAT THEY DID, SO I KNEW YOU WERE THE RIGHT PERSON TO TALK TO ABOUT IT.”

Intuitions, then? And he wasn't the only one… Maybe that was why Toriel seemed to vaguely remember certain things while she didn't remember him. This Wingdings had done a heck of a job of observation, he managed to discover and understand a number of things about this power even though he wasn't the one who held it. And to find the holder of the power, even if he seemed to think he was just remembering the flashbacks… For now. The skeleton was right. He was really intelligent.

Charlie bent down to pick up the piece of paper he'd dropped on the floor.

“So that last note..?”

“EVERYTHING WAS PLANNED!” Wingdings proudly affirmed. “THE PLACE, NAPSTABLOOK, TIMING, EVERYTHING!”

“That was well done, but you gave me quite a scare,” Charlie admitted.

“MY APOLOGIES BUT THAT WAS WANTED. BABA SAYS FEAR IS A SINCERE EMOTION HARD TO SIMULATE OR TO HIDE. AND I NEEDED TO DESTABILIZE YOU IN CASE YOU WANTED TO HIDE SOMETHING.”

The skeleton leaned his face dangerously close to his.

“AND I KNOW IT’S THE CASE,” he declared, staring at him with his now squinty sockets. “OTHERWISE YOU WOULD HAVE SAID RIGHT AWAY THAT YOU KNEW ABOUT TIME RETURNS. HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW TO HIDE IT?”

Charlie stepped back, raising his hands in an appeasing gesture

“Alright, yes, I’m hiding things but how about a deal?” he proposed. “A fair exchange of information by answering honestly to each other’s question? I don’t know everything and I’d like to learn more about the Underground.”

The skeleton straightened up and seemed to consider the idea intensely. Charlie watched with fascination his face, wondering how he could change expression being made of bones, when his eye sockets fully reopened and he smiled all the way to his cheekbones.

“THAT’S REASONABLE. I ACCEPT YOUR DEAL, BRILLIANT FELLOW!” Wingdings said, clapping Charlie's still-raised hands.

He appeared to notice his confused look because he then frowned his sockets.

“DO YOU NOT CLAP YOUR HANDS TOGETHER TO MAKE A DEAL?”

“Oh!” Charlie then understood. “No, we clap our hands together for other reasons, often between friends…”

A flash-back of the time Juliette had patiently made him understand that you could slap hands in a friendly way and had shown it to him came to his mind. He blinked to chase it away and fight back the tears he could feel coming.

“We shake hands to make a deal,” he explained.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS TO GREET EACH OTHER?” the skeleton said, surprised.

“It’s done for both.”

“YOU REALLY ARE BIZARRE,” the skeleton commented and vaguely shook his fingers while shrugging before clapping his hands together with a rattling noise. “WELL! SO TELL ME, WHAT DO YOU KNOW MORE ABOUT THE TEMPORAL ANOMALIES THAN I DO?”

“I'd have to know how much you know for that first,” Charlie half-joked, uncomfortable at the thought of talking aloud about his weird power.

“HMM, YOU’RE RIGHT,” Wingdings agreed earnestly while going in circle under his incredulous gaze.

He didn’t thought that would work. The skeleton rummaged in one of the pockets of his shorts’ pockets to get out a notebook too big to fit in it – dimensional pockets really were practical.

“I’VE NOTED DOWN EVERY MOMENT IT HAPPENED AS WELL AS VARIOUS THEORIES,” says Wingdings, flipping through the pages before grimacing. “YIKES, THIS ONE IS OBSOLETE. STRANGE, I THOUGHT I CROSSED IT OFF…”

The skeleton then slapped his forehead with one hand and pulled a pencil from the void with the other, leaving his notebook floating in the air before Charlie’s stunned eyes.

“I’VE ALREADY CROSSED IT OFF,” he said as he did so. “SEVERAL TIMES EVEN. SEVERAL DAYS AGO. TIME WOULDN'T STOP REWINDING, THE DÉJÀ-VU WAS AMPLIFIED.”

Charlie slightly pulled a face that Wingdings fortunately didn’t see. It must have been the last time he'd gone out into the Ruins and tried to get past the monsters he came across. He died half a dozen times before looking for another way, his disguise.

“What was that theory?” Charlie asked, a bit curious.

“THE STRENGTH OF PREMONITIONS ACCORDING TO AGE,” Wingdings answered as he leaned against the pen’s fence behind him and continued to turn the pages more slowly, occasionally stopping to cross something out with an annoyed scowl. “BUT IT DOESN’T HOLD UP. GERSON HAS SOME AS STRONG AS ME AND THE YOUNG AARONS AS WEAK AS NAPSTA.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“But Napstablook is a child too, so isn't their age close to ours?”

It was Wingdings' turn to raise an eyebrow as he turned his white pupils towards him.

“THEY’RE 44. I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I AM ONLY 6.”

Charlie felt his jaw drop. 6 years old?! That child was as, if not more, intelligent as him and he was only 6?! And Napsta was 44?! He didn’t know which of the two pieces of information astounded him more. He understood better now why the skeleton called himself a genius and how Borsta, without being a boss monster or a grandparent, had seen the war.

“I’m 10 and a half,” he said.

And at that moment, he realized something as Wingdings looked him up and down. The skeleton was the size of a normal human child of his age. Of course.

“I’m small for my age,” he quickly added in a jaded tone before the monster opened his mouth.

“INTERESTING,” Wing commented. “COULD SKELETONS AND HUMANS BE THE SAME SIZE?”

“It’s possible.”

The young skeleton monster nodded and returned to his notebook.

“WE’LL HAVE TO CONFIRM WITH MY PARENTS,” he casually said, flipping another page or two.

A triumphant smile then lit up his face and he straightened up, turning over his notebook to show him.

“BINGO! I FOUND BACK WHERE I WROTE DOWN THE RELIABLE INFO!” he exclaimed, pointing to the muddled, almost illegible text scattered disorganized across the two pages he was showing him.

Wingdings looked very excited to share what he knew. Charlie was excited, too, to learn more about what was going on outside his personal experience, but the anguish that was turning his guts inside out made it hard to show enthusiasm in return. The skeleton took a deep breath – did skeletons need to breathe? - before getting started.

“THE SERIES OF TEMPORAL ANOMALIES STARTED SEVERAL WEEKS AGO, AND THE DÉJÀ-VU WAS RATHER NOTICEABLE SO I THINK THAT TIME REWOUND MORE THAN ONCE. THE LAPSE OF TIME BETWEEN TWO ANOMALIES IS NEVER THE SAME AND SEEMS TO BE RANDOM. EVERYONE SEEMS TO HAVE DÉJÀ-VU BUT THE STRENGTH OF THE PREMONITION OF WHAT IS TO COME CHANGES WITHOUT ANY APPARENT CORRELATION TO THE GENDER, THE AGE OR THE TYPE OF MONSTER.”

And just as Charlie thought that would be all, the skeleton blinked his eye-sockets – seriously, how was this possible?? - and when he opened them again, his pupils had changed into overexcited reflections, making him look as if he had two large drops of black water for eyes.

“AND THE MOST INTERESTING! IT IS NOT THE VERY FIRST TIME THAT SUCH PHENOMENONS HAPPEN! THE FIRST TIME FOR ME, I WAS WITH BABA WHICH COMMENTED THAT SUCH DÉJÀ-VU DIDN’T HAPPEN TO THEM IN A LONG TIME! MORE OR LESS 20 YEARS! CAN YOU IMAGINE?!”

Charlie felt overwhelmed with incredulity and stupefaction mixed with questions and a realization he didn’t have until now. He had gotten so worked up about this strange power, its functioning and the reason why he could possibly possess it that he hadn't considered the idea that he might not be the first to have it. That the Underground might have affected the first fallen child in the same way. He now knew it really was the case. Chara experienced that same change before him. A little thought then crept discreetly into his mind: how could they have died even with this power?

He quickly pushed aside this chilling question to refocus and realized that if he had made the connection between the first time the phenomenon had happened and the child before him, Wingdings had certainly already made the connection between the recent examples and him. He looked for a second at the skeleton’s excited smile, in which he felt a hint of slyness, and sighed.

“Alright I’m going to tell you everything now, please don't spook me again,” he resigned himself before inhaling to give himself courage. “You surely already have a theory about the connection between the phenomenon and the presence of a human in the Underground, and I think you can validate it.”

Wingding’s smile widened with delight and he turned two or three of pages in his notebook before circling something in it.

“However I can only tell you my experience. I don’t know what the first human's was like, but I can say that mine was not pleasant,” Charlie warned him as he leaned against the fence too, and swallowed before continuing, his throat dry and his eyes staring at a point in the distance. “I’ve died…”

Charlie paused despite himself. It was the first time he was saying it out loud and it was even more disturbing than thinking about it. He really did live that, didn’t he…

A bony finger touched his arm and he turned to see Wing watching him dubiously.

“YOU DON’T REALLY SEEM SPECTRAL OR DUST-LIKE TO ME FOR A DEAD,” the skeleton joked.

Charlie grinned weakly.

“Because it’s my death that caused the first return in time, the day I fell here.”

The skeleton’s smile disappeared. He turned to his notebook and silently counted a few pencil strokes in the corner of a page.

“YOU MEAN THAT…”

For once, Windings didn’t finish his sentence.

“It was practically always caused by my death,” Charlie completed, digging a little in the ground with the tip of his foot.

He was beginning to realize how many times it had happened. There was six lines in the notebook but Wingdings hadn’t been able to count all the times the time had gone back several times to the same point. There easily must have been half a dozen more missing.

“AND YOU REMEMBER EVERYTHING,” Wing said with a lower voice than usual.

Charlie nodded.

“It’s one of the worst things about it.”

The skeleton remained silent for a little while before speaking again, asking an interesting question.

“CAN YOU CONTROL THE MOMENT YOU COME BACK?”

He pondered before answering.

“Yes and no,” he said, crouching down to draw a four-pointed star in the ground as best as he could. “Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve been seeing those odd golden lights appearing in different places. When I go back in time, I always come back to the last time I touched one. So it’s me who decides when it’ll be but I’m very limited. I don’t know what makes them appear, where, when or how.”

Wingdings crouched down too to observe the shape and scribbled in his notebook.

“INTERESTING. THERE’S ONE NEARBY, ISN’T THERE?” he asked with calm.

Charlie gave him a sidelong look. The skeleton was still filled with curiosity but he seemed to contain it now, out of respect for him and the difficulty of what he was telling. He appreciated.

“Yes, near the Blook’s house,” he nodded, his eyes turned towards the path that led to it. “I touched the star on the way out.”

“SO THAT’S WHAT YOU WERE DOING BEFORE YOU ACTED WEIRD AND DIDN’T GO TO THE REST OF WATERFALL LIKE I WAS SURE YOU WOULD,” Wingdings pensively said.

His white pupils then shrank and he looked at him in horror.

“WAIT, YOU DIED WHILE EXPLORING WATERFALL?”

Charlie open his eyes wide.

“No no! I found out that my death wasn't required for that! I don’t really know how it works but I have the impression that if I refuse very hard to let things go a way, I can go back in time. Just like when I die, actually.”

“AH. ALRIGHT. GOOD,” the skeleton sighed with relief, before taking new notes and giving him a questioning look. “BUT WHAT HAPPENED THEN?”

He briefly winced and started to stare at the drawing on the ground, fearing the young monster’s reaction.

“I accidentally killed a Temmie…”

Wingdings jumped on the side in a movement to get away from him and the world became black. Before he could react or understand, Charlie saw his soul appear then disappear when the world got its colors back.

“She’s fine now!” he quickly said, extending his arms in an appeasing gesture to try and calm the skeleton.

“ARE YOU SURE? YOUR LOVE AND EXP ARE HIGHER THAN THEY SHOULD BE,” Wingdings affirmed with a distraught look.

“Love?”

“OR MAYBE YOUR RETURNS DON’T AFFECT YOUR CHANGES OF STATISTICS,” the skeleton thought, wiggling his fingers briskly in nervous little clicks. “FOR ASGORE'S SAKE, HOW ARE YOU GOING TO EXPLAIN THAT IF ANYONE ELSE EVER SEES THEM…”

Charlie felt a little warmth rise in him as he understood that he wasn't afraid of him but for him. Even if, once again, he didn’t deserve such kindness and compassion.

“Wingdings!” he called to catch the young monster's attention, before speaking calmly. “Temmie is really back, just like the first monster I accidentally killed, and my statistics are normal. I killed another monster in Snowdin and I left them dead.”

He turned his gaze away from the skeleton’s eye-sockets, unable to stare at them after this confession, and looked with bitterness and remorse at his drawing of the star.

“That’s another of the worst things about this power.”

A great silence fell. He still didn’t dare to look at Wingdings and the latter said nothing, which didn't dispel his unease. After several long, excruciating seconds of fidgeting with his fingers, waiting for something to happen, the skeleton finally started to move again, as if he was about to talk.

“Everything okay, kids?” Borsta asked, appearing in front of them.

Charlie and Wing violently started and toppled onto their behinds. The skeleton managed to hit his skull against the fence behind them in the process.

“VERY OKAY, MX BORSTA, WE WERE GETTING ACQUAINTED,” Wingdings replied, rubbing the point of impact. “WHAT ABOUT YOU?”

“Everyone has been found and calmed down at ho…” the ghost started to say, slowly turning towards the rest of the farm without ending their sentence. “Where is Blooky?”

Charlie and Wing turned to where the little ghost became invisible. They had forgotten they were there too.

“NAPSTA DISAPPEARED WHILE LISTENING TO THEIR MUSIC OVER THERE,” the skeleton said, pointing roughly to the spot.

Borsta stared at Wingdings without moving for a few seconds. And Wingdings seemed to have a revelation.

“OH. THEY AREN’T HERE ANYMORE, ARE THEY?” he asked with an embarrassed smile and a hint of fear.

“Blooky was listening to ‘quiet water’?” the ghost questioned in return.

“YES. SORRY, I FORGOT…”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” Borsta sighed. “I’m going to find them.”

The ghost disappeared. Charlie turned to Wingdings, confused.

“Napstablook is not here?”

Wingdings shook his head.

“NO, THEY MUST BE IN A PEACEFUL PLACE OF WATERFALL AS WE SPEAK,” he answered. “AS LONG AS THEY’RE ETHEREAL, GHOSTS CAN DISAPPEAR FROM A PLACE TO REAPPEAR ELSEWHERE, AND NAPSTA STILL TENDS TO ACCIDENTALLY TRAVEL IF THEY’RE NOT CAREFUL.”

“Like teleportation?” Charlie asked as he recalled the word.

“EXACTLY THAT,” the skeleton nodded before dreamily sighing. “IT MUST BE GREAT TO BE ABLE TO TELEPORT WHEN YOU MASTERED IT…”

“And only ghosts have this power?”

“THIS AND ‘CONSTANTLY DEFYING THE LAWS OF PHYSICS” AS BABA SAYS,” Wingdings shrugged. “WHICH US, SKELETONS-”

Charlie suddenly found himself knocked over by something white and hairy that just pounced on him. The creature rolled over him with loud panting before starting to lick his face. That’s when he understood.

“Whelper! I… can’t… breathe!” he managed to say, miraculously avoiding eating any drool or hair.

The dog immediately pulled away and sat at a respectful distance of 50 cm. Charlie wiped his face with his hands, grimacing, and noticed with a quick glance that Wingdings had moved away and was staring cautiously at the dog monster.

“Guess who escorted me back through Snowdin?” a ghost in an ectoplasmic hat floated cheerfully in their direction.

“MAYBE THE QUESTION SHOULD HAVE BEEN ASKED BEFORE, SINCE THE ANSWER IS ALREADY UNDER OUR EYES, MX JOLSTA,” Wingdings pointed out.

Like Charlie, he seemed to regret that the ghost didn’t do it. They would have been a little more prepared to the dog monster’s arrival. Who was also sniffing with interest in the direction of the young skeleton, who took a discreet, wary step backwards.

“I would have if I could hold him back, but he’s overexcited today,” the ghost chuckled before turning to Charlie. “Oh honey, before I forget, I have a letter for you!”

Jolsta looked down. Charlie followed their gaze and discovered a letter in one of his hands. “For Charlie”. With Toriel’s writing. He felt a lump in his throat and his stomach made a knot. He swallowed with difficulty and the lump descended to weigh in his chest. He put up a smile.

“Thanks Jolsta,” he said, putting the letter in one of his pockets.

Even knowing it was in his dimensional pocket, he could sense its weight in his overalls.

“You’re welcome darling. Did you sleep well? You look better than yesterday. Our attic is cozy, isn’t it?”

Before he could answer, Whelper cut him off with barks addressed to the ghost.

“Oh! Right, where’s my head?” Jolsta exclaimed. “We’ve got to prepare the snails!”

The dog monster barked again, glancing briefly at his clothes.

“Perfectly presentable, sweetheart,” the ghost nodded.

The only difference with his outfit of the previous day was that his clothes had been washed and ironed. And that he had a bow tie around his neck.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Wingdings asked with puzzlement before he could.

“He may have a chance of joining the Royal Guard, here in Waterfall!” Jolsta explained as Whelper was running a paw over his head in an attempt to comb his hair.

“THAT’S SUPER!” the skeleton smiled.

Charlie frowned. What was the Royal Guard exactly? And why would the dog monster have a chance here specifically?

“How come?” he prudently questioned.

Jolsta looked at him with surprise.

“I didn’t tell you? What an airhead!” the ghost laughed with a big smile. “Apparently the King, Asgore Dreemurr, is visiting us today!”

Charlie froze and Wingdings turned to him with his eye-sockets wide open. Jolsta looked at them one by one with a confused smile.

“CHARLIE I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY HOUSE AND STAY THERE THE NEXT FEW HOURS,” the young skeleton announced quickly and suddenly.

“With pleasure!” Charlie replied in the same way, with a strangled cry.

The ghost blinked with puzzlement.

“Really? Don’t you want to stay and have a chance to meet the…” Jolsta started, staring at Charlie, before widening their eyes. “Oh dear!”

They finally got it.

“What’s happening now?” Borsta’s voice asked.

The skeleton and human jumped at their unexpected reappearance. Napstablook was there too. Whelper bounced on the spot while emitting excited yaps, surely announcing what was good news for him. Borstablook froze.

“Ah.”

They seemed more annoyed than surprised.

“Do we know when he comes?

“No, I’m going to fetch Warsta and Shysta, we have to prepare the snails,” Jolsta declared, quickly floating towards the house.

Borsta turned to Charlie.

“I didn’t think he’d come sooner,” the ghost muttered before speaking to him. “Kiddo, you’ll have to…”

“HELP ME BRING MY BOXES BACK HOME,” Wingdings chimed in as he stuffed one of them in Charlie’s arms. “I COULD SHOW HIM AROUND AND NAPSTA COULD COME AND PLAY WITH US, WHAT DO YOU THINK MX BORSTA?”

“That your parents let you read too many books, you’re talking like them,” the ghost sighed without seeming to care that they’d been cut off. “That’s a good idea. Do you want to go with them honey?”

Napstablook, who up until now was watching everything happening with wide, confused eyes, shyly smiled with a contented air and slightly nodded. Wing picked up his other box and turned to Borsta. Charlie noticed that his skeletal finger was discreetly tapping towards the box’s latch. He partially opened his and looked inside.

“AND IF YOU AND CHARLIE BOTH AGREE, THEY COULD EVEN SLEEP AT MY PLACE?” Wingdings offered.

“I have no authority over him, so if that’s what he wants…”

“That’s what I want!!” Charlie shouted as he closed his box.

All eyes turned to him and he felt embarrassed.

“I mean, with pleasure,” he said more calmly.

“Well that settles it,” Borsta declared with a perceptible shrug in their voice. “You should go quick, we don’t know when Asgore will arrive.”

They nodded. Charlie wished Whelper good luck, then followed Wing as he set off at a brisk pace towards the cliff, followed afar by Napstablook.

“FOR HAVING ALREADY SLEPT AT THEIR PLACE, I KNOW IT’S MISSING BUT I DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD CONVINCE YOU,” the skeleton admitted in a low voice, tapping his dimensional box in which he had placed a piece of paper.

“You’re kidding? I dream of it since yesterday!” Charlie whispered gratefully.

Wing had written “We have a shower” on the paper. After two days of being covered in dog slobber, nothing could please him more.

They stopped at the feet of the cliff. Wingdings turned to him with a mysterious smile.

“BEFORE BEING INTERRUPTED EARLIER, I WAS SAYING THAT SKELETONS TOO CAN DEFY GRAVITY. THAT IS OUR SPECIAL MAGIC,” he explained, cracking the fingers of his left hand. “HOLD THE BOX TIGHT AND DO NOT PANIC.”

He didn’t have time to ask why before everything went black and his soul appeared. Wingdings extended his hand towards it and his soul took a dark blue color with a “ping!”. Then he raised his arm, his soul flipped and Charlie felt gravity reversing. He found himself falling upward and clung to the box with all his might, filled with confused panic. The world regained its colors and he passed over the cliff to land softly in a low gravity.

He staggered, dizzy from what had happened and the return of normal gravity. Wingdings landed masterfully beside him and Napstablook appeared before them.

“BLUE MAGIC!” the skeleton exclaimed like a magician presenting his act.

“Modification of gravity on the affected subject,” Charlie said, citing the book on magic he had read.

“OH, YOU ALREADY KNEW?” Wing said, surprised and looking a bit disappointed.

“Only in theory. I would have liked to be warned.”

“THAT’S WHAT I DID, BUT I APOLOGIZE FOR THE ABRUPTNESS, I PREFERRED TO NOT LOSE TIME EXPLAINING TO YOU HOW TO JUMP HIGH WHILE BEING BLUE.”

Wingdings turned around and waved at Borsta. Charlie imitated him and stood still, amazed by everything he could see from here.

Waterfall was a set of gorges carved into dark cliffs, lit up in blue by the water running through them or the plants growing here and there. Some cascades were falling directly from the ceiling strewn with stones shining like stars. He saw the four adult Blooks being busy below.

“CHARLIE, YOU’RE COMING?” Wingdings called behind him.

He snapped back to reality and set off to join the skeleton and little ghost who were moving towards what looked like a normal house from afar. The ground was covered with black grass spiked with blue blades, with fluorescent mushrooms and trees growing here and there.

“Say, why does the king come to the farm?” he asked after a few moments.

“oh, the tall hairy guy that comes once a month is the king? he’s our biggest client,” Napstablook replied before widening their eyes. “in the sense of the one we sell the most snails to! oh no… that wasn’t…”

“DO NOT WORRY NAPSTA, WE UNDERSTOOD,” Wingdings reassured them.

Charlie stayed silent. Snails, huh? Like Toriel. The letter still felt heavy in his overalls.

They passed over a small stream of luminous cyan water. He brushed against cattails in the process and a little black insect flew away. He followed it with his eyes, vague memories of his last dream returning to his mind.

“CHARLIE LOOK! YOU SEE THESE FLOWERS THERE? THEY ARE ECHO FLOWERS,” the skeleton exclaimed as he pointed a field of large blue flowers further to the side.

Charlie took a reflex step to the side to move away, even though they weren’t very near. With this name, the blue flowers now made more sense.

“Are they called that because they repeat things we say?” he guessed.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU NEED ME THAT I TEACH YOU THINGS?” Wingdings asked, raising an eyebrow arch. “YOU ALREADY KNOW A CERTAIN NUMBER OF THEM.”

“I saw some when I explored earlier.”

“THE ROOM WITH THE HISTORICAL PLAQUES?” the skeleton supposed. “SOME FIND THEIR WHISPERS THERE FRIGHTENING BUT DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY. THEY ARE FASCINATING.”

Charlie continued to follow him while staring warily at the plants.

“I wasn’t expecting it, it scared me to death…” he muttered.

He heard the voice of an adult man snort and laugh quietly.

They had arrived near the bluestone house, lit by lamps of different colors, sizes, shapes and positioning. Why some of them standing on the walls or upside down under the roof, it was a mystery. A hammock was set up between two trees and the source of the laughter sit up straight inside to look at him.

“hehe. heh. are you saying that it came out of the blue?” the visibly adult skeleton asked before laughing harder at their own joke.

“PAPA…” Wingdings sighed exasperatedly as he attempted to not smile.

Charlie stared at the character, mouth agape, trying to process what was before his eyes.

Under his straw hat, the individual had similar eye-sockets to Wingdings’s (excepted one wasn’t larger than the other), prominent cheekbones and a jawbone more square than round, which he didn’t move to speak or laugh. It was cracked on both side of a single visible line of big, large teeth, from which a blue stalk came out. He would have had 6 of them if the rightmost one hadn’t been missing.

He looked stocky, his head set on his bow tie and the turned-up collar of his shirt, tucked into pants held up by suspenders. He also had fingerless gloves on his hands, and the sleeves of the shirt and pants were pulled up over his skeletal elbows and knees. But that wasn’t what shocked Charlie. NO, what was stunning him was that none of the clothes he was wearing had the same color. And none of these colors matched each other. The most striking of which were his hot-pink suspenders, dark green bow tie and neon orange mittens. A disaster for the eyes. Fortunately, Jessie wasn’t there to see this.

“so widy, you still think this room doesn’t freak people out?” the skeleton smiled, turning to his son.

“I WILL PROVE THAT THE MAJORITY IS NOT STUPIDLY AFRAID OF A FIELD OF HARMLESS FLOWERS!” Wingdings affirmed confidently, stamping his foot on the ground with a sound of wet sock. “I JUST NEED TO FIND THE 81 RIGHT PEOPLE FOR MY SURVEY.”

“hum… i'm not afraid of this room…” Napstablook shyly said.

“THE OTHER 80 RIGHT PEOPLE,” the skeleton modified before turning to the ghost with confusion. “HAD I NOT ASKED YOU?”

“no…”

The adult skeleton took his clog-wearing feet out of his hammock and nodded with an amused face.

“hu-huh,” he let out with a skeptical tone. “as stubborn as your baba. when will you introduce me to your new friend?”

He put his benevolent gaze on Charlie, who somehow managed to take his eyes off the shoes – which complemented the skeleton's absurd attire – to avoid appearing impolite.

“OH SORRY, THEY’RE CHARLIE,” Wingdings introduced him, holding out a hand towards him.

“I’m a boy, you can say “he”,” he quickly whispered.

“HE IS CHARLIE,” the skeleton corrected. “AND HE IS STAYING THE NIGHT.” He moved his arms to point Charlie and his father by turns. “CHARLIE, PAPA.”

Charlie extended one of his hands.

“Nice to meet you, Mister…”

The skeleton stood up and shook his hand, a big smile rising to his cheekbones.

“call me semi, kid. and don’t worry ‘bout what you are, chela and i babysat the child before you,” the adult told him with a wink before pointing the house with his free hand. “mi casa es su casa.”

Charlie remained speechless for a few seconds. He met more kind monsters when he left the Ruins than he would have expected. He had prepared to keep a low profile and fend for himself. He was… pleasantly dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand Italian,” he ended up saying awkwardly.

Semi’s eye sockets slightly widened before he leaned back and burst into a laugh that rattled every bone in his body. Wingdings gawked at him with a look of disbelief.

“i love this kid, widy!” the skeleton exclaimed with mirth and wiped a tear. “oh dear! don’t say that in front of chela! they’d be offended that you confused italian with spanish!”

Charlie felt his cheeks heat up and hunched his shoulders, embarrassed. Oops.

“SHALL WE VISIT THE HOUSE?” Wingdings proposed, seeming to hesitate between continuing to be shocked by Charlie's mistake or annoyed by his father.

Charlie nodded behind the wooden box he was still holding. Semi calmly stretched, causing his bones to crack.

“have a good time kids, i've still got work waitin’ for me,” he said as he settled back in the hammock. “an’ don’t forget to take off your socks before you come in, widy, there’d better be no wet marks in the house before chela gets home.”

“YES, YES, PAPA, YOU CAN GO BACK TO YOUR NAP,” Wingdings sighed in exasperation.

Followed by Charlie and Napsta, he took a path traced by flat stones against which his mismatched socks did indeed make wet "splotch" sounds. He stopped in front of the door to take them off, leaving his box on the side.

“PLEASE WIPE CAREFULLY YOUR SHOES,” Wingdings asked him and showed the doormat on which was written ‘Welcome every-bone!’. “I WOULDN'T WANT BABA TO HAVE A CLEANING FIT.”

Charlie also put down his box and proceeded meticulously. The skeleton opened the door to a warmed, colorful interior and began a tour of the place with high spirits.

There was a dismantled antique television against a wall of the living room and a comfortable sofa on the other side. There also was a bookshelf and a table against another wall. The house smelled of pasta, cooked meat and tomatoes, an odor that made Charlie’s stomach rumble slightly. The scent of various herbs complemented this when they entered the large kitchen. The fridge was covered with recipes hung with bone-shaped magnets, while others where nailed on the walls with real little bones. The bathroom was relatively normal, except for a corner strangely dedicated to make-up, which Charlie couldn’t help staring at for a few seconds. The balcony was nice, lit by more lamps, of course. There was a painting of a white bone on a green background in a corridor. A classic according to Wingdings.

Eventually, they entered the latter's room. Like the rest of the house, it was fairly tidy, apart from the jumble of books and sheets on the desk and plastic science equipment for youngsters on a table. There were figurines lined up on a shelf of books of all kinds. A ukulele and a telescope were laying beside the bed and there was a skylight above it offering a view of the crystals on Waterfall’s ceiling.

“THERE YOU GO, THAT IS ALL I CAN SHOW YOU OF THE HOUSE!” Wingdings declared with a satisfied smile.

“oh… it’s very pretty anyway…” commented Napstablook, who seemed to rediscover everything during the visit, even though they'd apparently been here more than once before.

Charlie nodded. All the same, he was beginning to wonder if the little ghost might be having little memory problems.

“WHAT ABOUT PLAYING A GAME NOW?” Wing suggested with excitement.

He nodded again with a smile, followed by Napsta.

“Do you have a particular game in mind?” Charlie asked.

The skeleton clapped his hands and looked at him with a big mysterious smile.

"DO YOU KNOW SNAIL RACES?"