Work Text:
The end of it all comes in the form of a text.
Apple scented freak
Hey can u help me dye my hair
Susie squints at her phone, because what the hell, Kris . It's around three AM in the morning on a school night, and she's a delinquent but not a heathen.
She answers them anyway, of course.
You
Yeah sure
And then she climbs out her window.
"What the hell, Kris." She says after she knocks on their window frame. Lightly, so as to not wake up Toriel, despite Kris insisting that she's in fact a very heavy sleeper. A yawn breaks its way through her words midway through her sentence. "It's late. What's even up?"
Kris is busy rummaging through a plastic bag, hair falling into their eyes. They look up, and she sees red-rimmed red eyes. Her heart does disgusting little sympathy flips.
"I'll tell you in the morning," they say. "Just—" their posture sags, and they pull out a bottle of red hair dye. They set it on the bathroom counter with a solid thud. "Help me? I want to make sure I get it properly done."
She leans against the wall, conflicted. She's not really sure how to deal with a friend in crisis— she's never had to deal with a friend in the first place, so she's way out of her depth. But Kris seems fragile. Pushing may end up doing more harm than good.
She's never been very good at this shit. She wishes Ralsei were here, with his emotional intelligence and soft touch.
But the school is hard to break into (she's tried), and Ralsei would probably end up looking like a serial killer if he tried to dye their hair with all that white fur, so Susie pushes off the wall and stalks into Kris' room to grab a t-shirt for them to wear. They never change out of that damn sweater, so she can make the educated guess that they don't want it ruined.
When she returns, Kris is staring in the mirror. They snap out of whatever daze they're in when she throws the balled up t-shirt into their chest.
"Alright freak, let's get moving. I have no idea how to do this but I'm sure it'll be easy."
They snort. "I'm going to get chemical burns and it's going to be your fault."
"Damn right." She grins. "Your fault for asking me ."
Surprisingly, it turns out alright. A little splotchy in some places, but much better than expected considering Susie's never dyed hair before.
Kris looks at themself in the mirror for a long moment, expression unreadable but distinctly depressing, before they grab bleach from under the counter.
"Clean up time before my mom comes in and thinks I was murdered." They sing-song.
They both end up crashing in Kris' room, Susie too tired to make the trek back to her shitty house that's halfway across hometown.
She half expects Toriel to be mad in the morning when she walks in and finds them curled up on the floor with red bangs and a stained t-shirt, but all she does is make a strange, wobbly expression and cheerfully state, "it's nice of your friend to help you with your hair, Kris. Susie, right?"
She nods awkwardly.
Toriel ends up making breakfast for all three of them, fussing with Kris' plate when they barely eat despite how often they push around their food.
Susie ends up leaving no less confused than when she arrived.
She'll drill them for answers later.
Kris doesn't end up telling her what's happening until a week later.
"I have cancer." They say, casual as anything. She doesn't buy it, because their shoulders are stiff and their face is ashen, but she doesn't push.
She sits up, alert. That's— oh.
"You can get that?" She thought cancer was a monster-specific disease, some boogeyman reserved for sick fathers in one of the few rooms of the hometown hospital. Not for— not for her human friend, who's healthy and doesn't have magic to multiply out of control.
"Yeah." They lean against her side, sliding down like a limp cat until their head is on her leg. "Stage three. The doctors found it last week. They don't really know how to deal with me."
All she can do is sit there, hand on their shoulder, and say, "damn."
"Yeah." Comes their muffled reply.
"What happens now?"
"They're bringing in a human doctor." Kris says. "Gonna do chemotherapy starting tuesday."
It's selfish to ask, but all Susie can manage to say is, "are you gonna be okay?"
Kris is silent.
They don't show up to school on tuesday. She kind of freaks, but they text her midway through the day with an apology and a request for her to come to the hospital, so she ignores the comforting call of the dark world and makes the walk to the hospital in silence. When she shows up, the nurse up front looks at her with apprehension, but softens when she mentions that she's here for Kris.
"They're in the room to the left," she says, and Susie walks away from her before she can give the platitudes she can tell she's gonna receive.
Kris doesn't look small in the hospital bed. They actually look quite normal. It's a relief.
"Hey," they rasp. "Guess who the coolest looking mother fucker in the hospital is."
"Mr. Holiday?" She asks, and they laugh, a big, barking sound.
"Uncle Rudy has nothing on me. He's not even half as cool as I am."
Susie leans up against the bed. There's a machine attached to Kris, some type of IV. The bag attached has a little toxic-warning symbol on it.
It's comfortably quiet for a bit before Kris states, "I'll be in and out of school." They shift in bed, IV-arm stretched out and uncomfortable looking. They don't seem to want to bend it at all. "They're keeping me in the hospital to monitor how I do."
Susie moves towards the bottom of their bed and perches on it, dipping the mattress. "Do you want me to tell Ralsei why you aren't showing up?"
"No." They say, eventually. "I doubt he even knows what cancer is. Just tell him I have— homework, or something. You know how he gets about homework."
"Alright."
"I'll tell him eventually," they curl their hands defensively. "Just— not right now. I don't want to talk about it right now. Can we talk about something else?"
They talk about something else.
Susie ends up coming to the hospital every day they're admitted. Around the third day, she walks into Asriel Dreemurr.
Literally. His horn almost pokes her eye out.
"Oh, golly—" He starts, and angel he sounds like such a nerd, "howdy, I'm Asriel. Sorry for bumping into you." His voice lacks the enthusiasm she knows he's known for, and his fur is unkempt and tugged every which way.
"You're fine." She says, gruff.
"Uh—" He hesitates, but continues. "Are you visiting Kris?"
She pauses for a moment before affirming his assumption. His shoulders slump in something like relief.
"That's— That's good. I'm glad they have a friend with… everything that's happening."
"You leaving?"
"... heading in." He tugs at his fur. "I— I was just trying to come up with something to say. So I was—" He waves his paws around. He seems to think that adequately finishes his sentence, so Susie doesn't push farther.
They end up walking in together. Kris sits up when Susie comes in, opening their mouth, but freezes dead still when Asriel walks in behind her.
"Uh." They say.
Asriel's face visibly crumples. Kris' face does something complicated and sort of negative. Susie kind of wishes she didn't come today.
He ends up rushing over and wrapping his arms around them, soft like he's holding a baby dove. Kris lets him, a high pitched whine coming from their throat. Their eyes get all big and round, and it all comes out, all the ugliness that Susie has been expecting to spill from the moment she heard the news. It's not surprising that Asriel is what triggers it. Asriel left before she moved in, but she's heard from Kris about what they used to be like. If anybody were to convince Kris to be emotionally vulnerable, it would be him.
She attempts to slip out of the room, content to just visit them at home tomorrow since they're getting released today, but Kris narrows in on them like a homing beacon.
"Azzy." They rasp. "Meet Susie, my best friend."
Shit. Now she definitely can't escape.
"I— uh, met her in the hallway." Asriel laughs. "It's good that you've been making friends. I thought I'd come back and you'd be—" He cuts himself off. The room goes tense.
The rest of the visit is painfully awkward, and she's kind of glad to leave.
Only kind of, though. She doesn't like the thought of leaving Kris alone in that sterile room.
Kris calls her three days after they're released from the hospital. When she gets there, they've got their mom's car keys in hand and a smile tugging at the edges of their mouth.
"Can you even drive ?" Is what she ends up asking.
They give her a look that screams obviously and open the passenger door and bow like a scrawny knight. Without their armor they look more like a twig than a warrior of prophecy.
She doesn't play into their bullshit, because the moment she acts like some princess is the moment she throws herself into the river.
They start the car. They're a surprisingly careful driver, but they're going way over the speed limit. She doesn't comment on it.
When they pass the sign welcoming people to Hometown, she asks, "Okay, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I'm starting to think this is a kidnapping."
"If this is a kidnapping, then it's one you walked into."
"That's true." She nods. "Is it at least a fun kidnapping?"
"So fun." They say, then fail to elaborate.
They end up at a river, which— there's literally a river in Hometown, might even be the same one, but she supposes it was more about the journey? They pull over into the grass and grab a spare shirt.
They tug her out of the car and over to the bank. She follows them down as they sit. She could get out of their grip easily and spare her pant legs from the river, but she doesn't.
They're in shorts, which is just unfair. They should have warned her that they'd be dragging her to a river so that she could have worn shorts. These are her good jeans , man. She only has one pair of good jeans and now they're gonna be all musty .
They look peaceful here, though. She forgot what that looked like on them.
"Morbid question," she starts, then pauses. When all they do is look at her curiously, she continues. "How'd you even find out about it?"
Kris turns away from her and tugs their sweater up. There's a neat scar on their stomach.
"There was a lump." They explain. "Big one. Thought it was an infected bug bite, so I went to the doctor."
"Oh."
"I didn't even have any symptoms," they continue. "Just the f— freaking lump." Their voice is a little choked.
"You should yell." She suggests.
"At what?"
"I dunno, God? The angel? I'm not your boss."
Kris sits up from where they've been slowly slumping over and shouts out a hoarse " Fuck ."
"Yeah!" She cheers. "Now do it louder. "
" FUCK YOU. " They yell. " Fuck your stupid diagnosis!"
Their voice echoes through the forest.
If they tear up, Susie pretends like she doesn't notice. Not her business.
The next day, she shows up at their house only to get lightly shooed away by Toriel.
"I, uh, I don't think Kris is up for visitors right now, my child. Maybe tomorrow?"
Kris comes stumbling into the hallway, ashen and shaking. Their words slur as they say, "no, mom, I want Susie here."
She turns back to look at them. "Are you sure, dear?" Her eyebrows furrow, and she glances over them.
"Yeah." And then they double over, crouching on the ground and staring hazily at the carpet. Toriel hurries over to fuss at them, but they wave her away. "'M fine, 'm fine. Just got dizzy."
Susie steps in, hesitant. "I can— uh, I can get them to bed. Miss toriel." She ticks on the formality as an afterthought. She's not used to dealing with adults she doesn't want to make a bad impression on. She's gotten rusty.
"That would be nice of you, dear." She still hovers as Susie lets herself be used as a support. She only stops when Kris closes the door in her face and slumps down onto the bed.
"Urgh." They groan.
"Bad day?"
They groan into their pillow once more. Susie flops down onto the bed— gently. Kris curls into her side, all cat-like and miserable.
"I'm dizzy and my body hurts." They say. Quieter, they add, " clumps of my hair have started to come out."
All she can say is "yikes."
"Yeah." They shift until their head is no longer buried in the bedspread. Their eyes aren't red rimmed, but they look miserable either way. She can see some thin spots in their hair, and she makes sure to keep her eyes on their face. They don't need to know she's noticed. "You probably came over to hang out, but just a warning, I'm going the hell to bed. You can leave if you want. It'll be boring."
She snorts. "What, you think I'm gonna leave after you give me a free invite to sleep somewhere that's not my parents house? Pass."
They snort. Then they tug her close, quick, like they're embarrassed to be doing it. Something disgusting and fond squirms in her chest.
They both end up falling asleep like that.
She wakes to the sound of retching. She bolts up and spots Kris leaned over the bed, bile coming out of their mouth and dripping into the trash can.
She pats their back awkwardly.
"I hate this." They say in-between dry heaves.
"Yeah, I bet." She says, then cringes at herself.
They laugh.
She ends up curled against their back, holding them while they occasionally retch into the bucket near their bed.
The next time she sees them, they're wearing a beanie. No stray hair sticks out. There's nothing to hide their expression, no fringe to shield their eyes.
They look a little flayed out, raw and wounded.
"Mom took me to get my hair shaved." They say, quietly.
Susie shifts around to lean against them.
"I asked her to. Better to get it all over with at once." They don't sound sure.
She doesn't know what to do in this situation. There's no guidebook to what to do when your first friend gets cancer.
There's eyebags under their eyes, and they look drained of energy in a way that reminds her of how they used to look when she'd first moved in, depressed and motionless. But somehow it's worse, because this isn't an internal demon, but something actively killing them .
She doesn't know what to do, so she does nothing but sit there. Silent support.
Kris deteriorates. They aren't allowed to go to school anymore. Too sick from chemotherapy, she hears Miss Toriel say.
Susie still comes over.
Kris rolls over in bed.
"I need to get to the dark world." They say resolutely. "Need to tell Ralsei. I should see him."
Susie does not like their tone of voice, the resigned determination clinging to their words, but she's useless with words, so she'll have to settle for bringing them to Ralsei and having him talk some sense into them.
She sneaks them into the school. They wobble on their feet and brace themself on the wall, but they end up at the supply closet eventually, and don't hesitate to jump in. Susie dives in after them.
The dark world is just as comforting as she remembers. Ralsei rushes over as soon as he senses them.
"Susie!" He shouts joyfully. Then his smile widens. " Kris ! It's been so long!"
Kris' smile weakens, but they dutifully take the hug he hands out and weave their hand together with his paw as he walks and chatters. Susie hurries to catch up.
They keep silent until they're settled into their room in the castle, then sink into the bed with a wheeze.
"Kris?" Ralsei questions. "Is everything alright?"
"Came down here to tell you something." They mumble into the covers. "Y'need another warrior of the prophecy. I'm no good."
"Don't say that, Kris!" He admonishes. "You're plenty good. You've done so well so far."
They turn their head to look at him. "That's not what I mean." Their eyes shut. "M'dying, Ralsei. I'm not gonna be around to finish it."
It's the first time they've said it, and it nearly shocks her silent.
"You're not—" She begins, "you're not dying . You're just sick for a little while."
Pause.
"You're just sick, right?"
They clench the starry blanket in their fist. "No, I'm dying. Chemotherapy isn't working on me. All it's doing is making me sicker."
Ralsei is shaking where he sits on the covers. "What— how are you ill? Maybe I can help. I— I'm good at healing magic. I'm the best here."
Kris shakes their head, but doesn't resist when Ralsei puts a trembling hand on their stomach and casts a spell.
The corners of his mouth wobble.
"Didn't work, did it." They say, flat.
"I can— I can try again—"
"It's okay." Their voice goes soft. They grab Ralsei's hand. Then they consider Susie for a moment, and grab hers too. "I just wanted to tell you in person how nice it was to be part of something big."
Susie resolutely does not cry, but Ralsei doesn't seem to have the same hang ups as she does, because he lets out a soft hiccup and curls around their hand.
They stay down there as long as they can, but before long they both have to head up so Kris' missing status isn't noticed by Toriel.
Ralsei seems to know this is the last time he'll see Kris. He puts on a brave face, but Susie is much better at it than him. She can see through a flimsy little thing like that. She doesn't mention it, but she shakes him by his shoulders a little bit. He leans into her side. She lets him, for once.
When they rise and step out into the empty school halls, she stares at the back of their head as they lean on the wall and step forward at a snail's pace.
"So you're really dying?"
"Yeah." They stop walking. "You'll still visit Ralsei when I'm gone, yeah?"
She hurries up to them and slaps them upside the head. "Of course . That's not even a question. Someone's gotta keep him from going kooky from being all alone."
They smile at her. Her heart hurts, but she's much better at brave faces than Ralsei.
Their deterioration goes faster, after that visit. It's like they were waiting for all their business to be in order before they let go.
They don't have the energy to do anything anymore. Their time together is usually spent in bed, chatting with lethargy.
"I think I'm gonna go, soon." They say into the empty air.
Susie stiffens in alarm.
"I thought the doctors gave you a year?"
"It's merged with my spine. They didn't know that."
"Fuck, man."
"I told my mom to bury me near the river. Y'know the spot we hang out?"
"That's a good spot." She says roughly.
They laugh, but there's something choked about it. "That way we can still hang out."
She sniffles, and all her carefully kept composure cracks away until she's crying silently into their beanie.
It's not fair , but nothing about her life has ever been fair, and it's more awful for Kris than for her, so all she does is hold them so tight they wheeze and shout expletives loudly enough that Toriel can probably hear from the living room. She doesn't scold them.
It's the last time she gets to hold them. She wishes she'd spent it better.
They're pale in death. They had tan skin in life, a healthy glow even when they were depressed and sallow.
It's an open casket funeral. They almost look like they're asleep. They're in a dress she knows they'd hate, all soft greens and gentle lilacs, and when she walks up to the casket to hold their hand one last time, she lets go of it like she's burned her hand.
They're so cold.
As requested, they're buried near the river. She wants to claw at the ground they're lowered into, scream at the world to not bury them alive. But they aren't alive.
They were her first friend, and now they're a headstone.
Funny how life works.
She stays until everyone but family has left. Then she stalks her way up to the grave in her ill fitting suit and gently sets wrapped up poppies on the soil covering their casket.
And before anybody can speak to her, she's gone.