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"..."
He stood with his back to her, giving no clue as to what he was looking at. She in turn stared at the green jumper he wore, and the white fur climbing his neck and head, all the while as she knelt, the cushioning of her purple robes making no impact on the discomfort. It wasn't apparent how much time had passed, how long she continued to drink the sight of the small figure, mingled as it was with memories of the figure at play. At last she attempted to break the silence.
"...is it you...?"
The words came only with significant effort, and Toriel somehow doubted that she'd actually spoken them aloud. He didn't reply, but his head turned slightly, the only acknowledgement he deined to give for now. She dared not reach out, or relieve the pressure on her knees, as if a sudden movement would scare him off. And yet she refused to retreat. She opened her mouth, accutely aware of how dry it was, and summoned her strength to speak again.
"...my child, is it you?!"
His head tilted slightly, so despite her self doubt he must have heard her again. Time slipped by without comment or notice, leaving no record of how long it took, but at last he turned around to face her. Despite being at arms' length, Toriel couldn't make out his expression. It mostly looked neutral, like he didn't care about what he was seeing, and yet whenever her eyes left his face to see the rest of his body she thought it had suddenly shifted to a polite smile, or a gleeful smirk. His eyes never shifted however. They were beadier than she remembered, but they truly took in the sight of her. She could even feel them move slightly as her own glances moved around the room, following her movements. There was no great emotional upheaval as who she beheld sunk in, no sudden tears or cries of shock or wonder. With an ancient longing she just mechanically reached out to gently caress his face, a motion he showed no sign of objecting to.
"Asriel... I'll never let you go again..."
His expression shifted at these words, solidifying into a look of intense curiosity or confusion, one that did not twist when in the corner of her eye. Unable to hold back any longer, Toriel leaned forward to wrap her son in a great hug, her copper-red eyes shut tight as she embraced the curiously lukewarm body. Unaware of how long it took, she eventually felt his arms try to creep up around her back, in an attempt of reciprocation that felt like being wrapped up in rope. That response broke the tension in her soul which had begun in the unknown moment she first spotted him, and she felt exhaustion flood her body, her grip gently loosening. He never let go as her awareness of her surroundings diminished, but she thought she heard him say something before darkness fully enveloped her.
"Idiot..."
Toriel felt her back supported by something. Something soft. Despite the darkness this support was oddly familiar. It took a long time to recognise that it was her bed, and that it was dark because her eyes were still closed. The bedroom light was still on when she opened her eyes, momentarily blinding her as she happened to stare at the bulb within the lampshade. Her mouth was dry, as it had been when she... when she... when had she gone to bed, anyway?
Sitting upright in bed, she tried to piece together the previous day. She remembered really struggling to get out of bed, the need for sleep calling her to once again slip beneath the sheets, and yet her mind would not allow it. She'd definitely gotten dressed, and...
"Oh," she croaked, patting her chest, "I am still in my robes."
Had she forgotten to don her nightgown last night? Why? Other end first. She'd gotten dressed, and thought perhaps a warm drink would ease her fatigue, so she'd walked towards the kitchen, and in the hall she'd glanced at-
"...the calendar..."
The icy grasp which had seized her heart the previous day returned right there, but she resisted the sudden despair it offered. Yesterday. The anniversary of when he left, despite her pleading and warning, to venture into the wider Underground. Where he met the fate she had failed to shield five other from. The anniversary of the last time her nest was not empty. Maybe her weariness was why it had affected her so. And maybe she had just slept entirely through the day to shield herself from the anguish, she wasn't sure. She certainly felt more refreshed than the previous day, so she might just have forgotten. Well in any case, it was time to get up.
"Hmm?"
As she put her hand on the bedside cabinet to help get to her feet, she felt it brush against something unexpected. Looking down at her hand a tall glass of water stood there, filled to the very top and peeking over the brim.
"This is...?"
She wanted to pick it up for further examination, but caution stopped her. In this the caution was sustained by memories of spills, and complaints about said spills soaking into fur upon feet, and the chuckles that she gave to such beds he'd chosen to lie in as a result. And despite her heavy heart at the significance of yesterday, a comforting warmth settled there as well, for the first time since perhaps those spills. The comfort steadied her hand as she picked it up to take a sip. She ended up draining it in one motion, the desert that was her mouth now flooded. It had been room temperature, no doubt she poured it for herself in the middle of the night, but it was still a welcome quenching of her thirst, and she felt more like herself.
Toriel returned the glass to the drainer by the kitchen sink, forgetting she'd been wearing the same clothes for maybe two days, then in the living room she conjured a small fire in the fireplace with a wave of her hand, sitting down next to it with 72 Facts About Snails open on fact 27, telling herself today was going to be a nice day. She was half way through fact 27, for the seventh time since she hadn't turned the page, when she heard something in the distance.
Knock knock...
"Oh!"
Knock knock...
The echoing cadence was unmistakable. Dropping the book on the table, she hurried into the hall and down the stairs, briskly walking along the stone corridor and through the grassy antechamber, stopping before the looming door with the Delta Rune carved into it. Her timing was impeccable.
Knock knock!
"Who is there?" she called.
"orange," came the reply.
"Orange who?"
"orange-ya glad i didn't say banana?"
Her heart cast off the heavy weight she'd been struggling with like it was a loose feather. Her laughter echoed all the way back to her hall, where any opportunistic eavesdropper and water delivery person may have heard it.
"Hee hee hee hee hee! Oh, knock knock!"
"who's there?"
"Boo."
"boo who?"
"There is no need to cry, this is just a joke!"
Toriel heard some muffled scratching as her friend shifted position. "heh-heh, that's a good one, lady. hey, knock knock."
"Who is there?"
"justin."
"Justin who?"
"justin time for dinner."
"Oh, hee hee! But, um, it is just after breakfast..."
"heh, the old catch-an'-throwback. nice."
Toriel blinked. "That was a joke? Oh, I suppose it was."
The otherwise perfectly normal silence from the door felt pronounced. "ain't like ya to second guess yourself, lady. you got a heckler in there?"
"Hmm? Oh, no no," she said, rallying the power of her funnybone. "Hey, what do you call a fake noodle?"
"i dunno."
"An impasta!"
The door emitted a thump, like he had hit it with his fist to control his laughter. "heh, that reminds me of my bro's dinner last night..."
"Oh, you have a brother? And he makes you dinner?"
"nah, he makes his own dinner, it stinks."
"Hee hee, that is a lovely joke!"
"...joke? anyway, he's pretty cool, an' that's no joke. hey, knock knock."
"Oh, who is there?"
"calendar."
"Calen- wh-"
"can-lend-her a coupla bucks, she needs a coffee."
A quiet "hee" passed her lips as she retreated into her own head, recalling the reason for her woes and missing time over the past few days. Her entire life since entering the Ruins loomed unsteadily over her.
"alright, that 'hee' was too polite to just be telling me the joke sucked, you okay lady?"
She responded on autopilot. "You okay lady who?"
"hey, i never knew you were hawaiian."
It was her friend's turn to experience unnervingly usual silence, as Toriel imagined eight shadows cast across her back. The eight she could not protect. But before she withdrew fully within herself, unusually loud bangs came from the door.
"say 'who is there' before i let myself in to use your bathroom, what's the matter?"
"Oh, oh! Please stop, no need to do that, I am... fine."
The banging stopped. "...that's the worst joke you've told all day."
Toriel sighed. "I am sorry for worrying you, my friend. It is just... yesterday was difficult for me."
The silent door felt contemplative. "like you had a test an' didn't study?"
Despite herself she smirked. "No no, it is just... yesterday was the day I... I became alone."
More silence. The worst silence. By allowing things to become so serious in tone, Toriel feared she had forever altered the tenor of her time with her fellow joke lover, perhaps he would seek someone less burdened. Or even-
Pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!
A mad chuckle escaped her. "I- Hee- Heewhat?!"
"been savin' that for a rainy day," he said, "but we dunno what the weather's like up topside, so figured i'd save it for when you wanna come out. guess not yet."
"Not yet..." she repeated. "I am sorry for worrying you. And thank you. I sincerely needed something so... silly."
"mission accomplished, then." Toriel could feel his smug grin through his words. "look, if you wanna take a rain check, i can come back another time. can't force the audience to be in the mood, right?"
"Right..." she once again repeated. And then, "Could you please, please promise something?"
A secondary pbbbt announced his stuffing the unseen device into a pocket. "a promise...?"
Why am I asking him this, she wondered. Because I cannot bare it alone. Not again. "If a human ever comes through this door, watch over them, and protect them, will you not?"
The utter absurdity of her request hit her like a blow. He had great taste in jokes, and he had a brother with questionable cooking skills. That was all she knew of him. Not his job, not even his name. For all she knew he was an officer of the Royal Guard, and she'd be asking him to go against his very job, the job bid by... by HIM to follow his cruel orders to capture... maybe even kill-
"aight," he said. "no problem."
Her eyes suddenly stung. "Truly?"
"truly-ruly lemon squooly." Knocks to the rhythm of Shave-and-a-Haircut sealed his oath. "can't say no to a fellow jokester."
She struggled to suppress a sob of gratitude. "Th-thank you my friend."
"any time. 'cept bedtime, 'cuz i'll be asleep." the regular silence let the promise sink in. "welp, i'm goin' to grillby's. old lady, do you want anything?"
"Erm, no thank you. Take care."
The door's silence lost all context, telling Toriel her friend had left. Returning to her house, she felt so light on her feet she almost toppled over. A stray idea came upon her, to prepare a picnic to have besides the patch of golden flowers at the far end of the ruins. She still had most of a warm pie she recently baked, it would go well with some fresh sandwiches, and maybe some lemonade filled to the very brim of the glass. Perhaps include some chocolate as well. If she no longer felt alone, they deserved to feel such as well. She was so caught up in this planned picnic, by the time she reached her kitchen she didn't notice the glass she left earlier had been washed and put away.