Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sudden ringing of a phone ripped Sans away from his slumber.
Jolting upright in his desk, his eyelights darted around frantically, the last vestiges of his dream state dissipating in the glaring light of his desk lamp.
Bringing up a skeletal hand to give his eye socket a rub, Sans gave a half-lidded glance at a chiming cellular device that was slowly vibrating itself towards the edge of the desk.
Sans reluctantly picked up the phone and flipped it open, sighing as he read the name displayed on the screen.
He brought the phone up to his head, reaching down for his glasses, which had fallen off during his ‘quick’ nap.

“What’s up, doc?” Sans drawled, blinking tiredly as his eyes readjusted to the light of the room.
Holding back a yawn, he slid the blue-rimmed spectacles onto his nose, which stayed firmly in place thanks to the blue magic they were imbued with.

“This better be important, you interrupted my… hardly workin’.” The skeleton chuckled quietly to himself, adjusting his glasses.

“It is very important. It is imperative that you come to the lab as soon as possible.” A staticky voice cracked through the phone’s speaker.

“Uh, yeah…” Sans fiddled with his glasses until they sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be right over, doc. Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’on?”

“I will tell you once you get to the lab. It is very important. Get here immediately.” The voice cracked and popped over the cell phone, distorting to nearly inaudible levels.

“A surprise, huh?” Sans looped his fingers around the chain on his neck, sliding the single silver key up and down.

“If that’s what you want to call it. On the matter of grave importances, have you filled out those papers yet?” The voice hissed.

“Right… yeah, I’m nearly finished those...”

Sans gave a furrowed glance at the aforementioned paperwork, its lopsided blue writing now smudged with drool.
Something else crackled out of the phone, only a few syllables coming through from the other side. Try as he might, the skeleton could not make out what was being said.

“...Alright, I’ll see you soon, Dings.”

Sans flipped the phone closed with a click, ending the call. It probably wasn’t anything important, very likely a repeat of how ‘imperative’ it was that Sans ‘get to the lab with utmost haste.’

“Hey Papyrus!” Sans yelled out, grabbing a stained off-white lab coat that had been hanging on the back of his door.

“WHAT DO YOU NEED, SANS?” Came a reply.

“I’ve got to head into work!” Sans called back, closing his room behind him and heading down the stairs, stashing his flip phone securely in the pocket of his coat.

“OKAY, BROTHER! THERE IS A SNACK FOR YOU ON THE COUNTER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS PREPARED IT FOR YOU WHILE YOU WERE WORKING IN YOUR ROOM!” Papyrus’ enthusiastically loud voice echoed from the taller skeleton’s room.

“Thanks, bro.” Sans spotted the ‘snack’ and hastily grabbed the soggy paper bag while slipping his arm into his lab coat.

“SAY HI TO DOCTOR GASTER FOR ME!” Papyrus added, slamming open the door to his room to give his brother an energetic wave goodbye.

Sans waved back, shaking the greasy brown bag. “Will do.”

Sans stepped out of the house, shoe crunching on the snow, sighing as he filled his lungs with the familiar brisk pine-scented air of Snowdin. His ears popped and the pine was replaced by the smell of static electricity as Sans took a second step, his shoe stepping down onto cold stone as he entered the lab.
Thank Asgore for shortcuts. Sans thought to himself as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the sterile environment he now stood in. Surrounded on all sides by dark cyan walls, complemented by matching teal tiling across the floor, the lab stretched out dark and menacing. Various tubes and wires stuck out in odd places, although their placement in reality had been meticulously thought-out.

Various log stations were embedded in the walls; large black screens that could display various scientific entries and logs.

“Ah, lab sweet lab.” Sans sighed, the stale air tasting of dust and copper.

The bright-eyed skeleton set down the ‘snack’ his brother had given him, which oozed a red substance onto the clean grey of the table, which was most certainly just pasta sauce.

“And the trip here is so scenic.” Sans quipped to himself, unable to resist the urge to chuckle at his own joke.

His ability to ‘take shortcuts’ was certainly a handy one. He could use his magic to step through certain places in the Underground that were a little weaker than others, allowing him to slip through the cracks between time and space.
Many shortcuts were naturally occurring, ones he had stumbled upon by chance, but using his magic he could also make shortcuts himself, like the one directly outside his front door.
However, these ones took a great deal of magic to create, so he didn’t make them often. It wasn’t like ripping through reality was easy.

“Hey Dings?” Sans called out, his voice echoing through the empty lab.

“Where are you?”

Nothing replied but the quiet beeping of machines, and the cold vastness of the laboratory. Sans shivered despite having a knit sweater underneath his lab coat.

“Come quickly, Sans.” The voice from the phone no longer crackled and popped like it had through the speaker, its clear tone ringing out from the largest room in the lab, the DT Extraction Chamber.

“Be right there!” Sans nervously headed towards where the voice had called from. Cautiously swinging the door open, Sans glanced anxiously over his shoulder.

“Paps says hi by the way…” Sans called out as he stepped inside the room. “Hey, what’s the big surprise, any-”

Sans turned and stopped dead.

“-way…” He trailed off, looking at the scene in front of him in horror.

A skeleton in a black lab coat stood looming over a desk covered in scattered papers and blueprints, which Sans knew for a fact had been meticulously organized the last time he saw them.
To the black-clad skeleton’s right, a purple human soul in a secure glass cylinder glowed softly, which clashed with the blue glow emanating from the potted echo flower that was also on the desk.

“Hey Dings, what’s all this?” Sans’ brow bone furrowed in concern, looking up at the massive animal skull-shaped machine that hung from the roof, the DT Extractor. Sans then glanced back at the human soul.

This wasn’t the surprise he was expecting at all.

“I thought we were done with the Determination experiments.” A wave of nausea washed over Sans, and he had to bite back the bile rising in his throat, begging his voice to stop quavering.

“I’ve figured it out this time, Sans.” The taller skeleton rested a bony hand on the soul container.

“Heh, Dings, c’mon…” Sans’ smile became strained as he stepped towards the royal scientist, swallowing the worry now worming in his stomach like a parasite. “I thought we agreed that we were going to stop… messing around with that… stuff.”

“We need to do this experiment.” Gaster picked up the soul container, the purple light streaming through the circular holes cut into each of his skeletal hands. He brought the soul up to eye-level, looking into the pulsing violet heart.

“It’ll work this time.”

Gaster confidently strode past the desk and headed out across the small metal catwalk that extended over the looming darkness that resided below the DT Extractor.

“The souls we used were too weak.” Gaster stated, “This time we are going to use a stronger soul.” He reached up and slotted the soul container into place within the jaws of the large, skull-shaped machine.

“A stronger soul?” Sans asked nervously. He didn’t like where this was going. Everytime he closed his eyes he could see the horrors of what had happened last time they tried mixing Determination and monster souls.

“Yes. One of a monster who has not fallen down. One who is perfectly healthy.”

Gaster responded to Sans in a straightforward manner, even though the meaning behind his simple statement carried a terrible weight that made Sans feel sick.
“Dings… heh…” Sans chuckled quietly, horror overtaking him, “Dings, whose soul are you planning on using?” He asked sternly, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Gaster turned to look at Sans, his white eyelights meeting the terrified pinpricks of the smaller skeleton’s.

“Mine.”

Sans stared at the Royal Scientist in shock, unable to comprehend the words he had just spoken. Months ago he would have reacted in apathy, but he knew better now.

“I-” Sans began, trying to string together a coherent sentence, “You can’t be serious.” His smile grew wide in disbelief.
It took less than a second for Sans to see that Gaster’s face was the one of a monster who was entirely serious.

“I can assure you, I’ve never been more.” Gaster turned away from the DT Extractor, his white eyelights making direct contact with Sans’, who was nervously glancing down at the scattered blueprints and papers across the desk in front of him every few seconds.
He reached down and picked up a paper scrawled with neat handwriting, the letters replaced with odd symbols like smiling faces and hand gestures.
Sans picked out a couple of keywords from his brief glance, words that stuck out like ‘determination’, ‘echo flowers’ and ‘soul’.

“This is way too dangerous.” Sans put the paper down, “We know what determination does to a soul.”
The fear washing over Sans was nearly crippling, and he couldn’t repress the deep shudder that rattled through the skeleton as he recalled the results of their last determination experiments. He chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

“This is a joke, right?” Sans watched as the DT Extractor whirred to life at the touch of a button, the purple glow from the soul in its jaws gleaming up through the ‘eyes’ of the machine.
The purple-hued determination filtered up through the Extractor, the glow intensifying as the energy was sucked up, wrapping around and around and eventually condensing drip by drip into a small glass vial that was fed into by all the tubes connected to the DT Extractor.

“Haha, you sure got me.” Sans laughed, a strained smile plastered across his face, sweat rolling down his skull.

“I don’t ‘joke’, Sans, you know this.” Gaster scoffed, rolling his eyes and striding over to the panel that contained the condensed determination.

Sans nervously followed the Royal Scientist, giving the DT Extractor an anxious glance as he attempted to stifle the growing worry in his gut.

“Dings, are you sure about this?” Sans hurried along beside Gaster, who maintained a brisk walk that required the smaller skeleton to use a light jog in order to keep up.

“I am certain it will work this time.” Gaster glanced down at his assistant, noticing his fearful expression.

The Royal Scientist would have to mark down that Sans continued to show signs of trauma. After what had happened with the last experiments, Sans had begun to exhibit symptoms like heightened anxiety and paranoia, which were present even now as he glanced nervously around as if someone were hiding in the shadows.

“You do not have to worry, Sans.” Gaster made an effort to reassure him. Although he thought the nervousness was excruciatingly infuriating, getting mad at his lab partner would not do anyone any good, and so trying to dispel the anxiety was the best course of action.

“It’s science, Dings. You can’t be certain of anything.” Sans shook his head, parroting one of the Royal Scientist’s favourite phrases, however Gaster made no motion to acknowledge the sentiment.

The two now stood in front of the vial of condensed determination, and the smaller skeleton shook slightly, sweat still dripping down his face.

“It is our duty, Sans. As scientists.” Gaster watched as the last few drops of determination trickled down the tube and into the vial, the DT Extractor now hissing to a stop and leaving the room in the previous ‘silence’ of white noise. “We have to do this. For the king.”

The Royal Scientist felt a shiver of pleasure as he reached forward toward the vial of pure determination. Pure, sheer power unlike anything anyone in the Underground had ever witnessed.

“I have to do this. For me.”

Gaster’s bony hand wrapped around the vial, pulling it free from the wall panel with a hiss of pressurized air, an aura radiating off the determination and glowing violet through the hole in his hand. Even through the thick barrier of the glass, its strength could be felt in the tingling of Gaster’s fingertips.

“Dings, you know how dangerous this is, don’t you? There isn’t anything to prove it’ll be different than last time.” Sans’ eyes darted nervously from the vial to Gaster, who pulled a gun-like object from a holster on his belt.
The Royal Scientist didn’t respond, but instead slotted the vial into the device in one smooth motion, the click echoing in Sans’ skull.

“You know how dangerous this is, right?” Sans repeated, unable to stop the anxiousness from seeping into his voice. Gaster continued to ignore him, setting the lock on the machine and giving it an experimental flick.

“Right, Dings?” Sans said again, his voice shaking.

“Gaster?” The smaller skeleton swallowed the worried lump rising in his throat, his mouth drier than it usually was. A strained smile remained plastered on his face, although it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it there.

“Here.” Gaster finally spoke, holding the device out in front of Sans, a wickedly sharp needle glinting in the barrel of the gun.

“Follow me.” The black-clad skeleton dropped the device into Sans’ outstretched hands, then turned and briskly walked out of the DT Extraction Chamber.

Sans stared in horror down at the injection gun in his skeletal hands, then looked up at where Gaster had disappeared to and slowly headed in that direction, his head turned down and his eye sockets fixed on the device he was holding.

“Hurry up, Sans!” Gaster’s voice echoed from outside the door, and Sans took a couple quicker steps to catch up, his pink sneakers squeaking on the floor as he followed the dark-clothed scientist as he led his assistant through the winding maze of corridors, before stopping in front of a reinforced steel door.

Sans swallowed again, bile rising in his throat as he had to fight back nausea. He tried his best to maintain an apathetic expression, despite feeling the complete opposite.

Gaster produced an ID card from a coat pocket, swiping it against a sensor on the door. The door hissed and made a loud click, and Gaster swung it open, holding it to make sure Sans headed inside, and then allowed it to swing closed behind the pair with a loud slam.

In the middle of the room was a large operating table, outfitted with shiny restraints that matched the same cold silver of the steel door. Surrounding the metal table were screens and wires of all kinds, hooked up to various unique machines, and a tray covered in many sinister-looking tools.
One wall had a large cabinet with a glass front, revealing vials of vibrant glowing liquid in many different colours, the remnant of the determination previously harvested from the other human souls.
Sans gave another rattle and peeled his eyes away from the powerful glowing liquids and back to Doctor Gaster.

The Royal Scientist placed the potted echo flower he grabbed from the desk, pushing aside the wickedly gleaming tools to make a space for the tranquil blue flower, which gently repeated the clank of the tools in response.
Sans gulped down the fear he was feeling, knowing that he had to try to remain calm and collected for whatever Gaster had planned next, even if he was anything but.

“See this flower, Sans?” Gaster gave the petals a loving brush, as if petting a small creature.
“See this flower, Sans?” The flower whispered back to him.

“This flower is going to change everything.” Sans watched as the Royal Scientist lifted his clothing and began to hook himself up to machines, connecting the wires right onto his now exposed bones.
The flower gently echoed his message.
“This flower is what is going to change everything.” It’s eerie ‘voice’ sounded exactly like Gaster’s, but if he had been slightly farther away.

Sans stared at the echo flower, the weight of the gun in his hands getting seemingly heavier with each passing moment of silence.
Gaster finished hooking himself to the machines, which were now beeping quietly, almost inaudible even in the vast emptiness of the room.

“This flower, Sans, is what is going to save the Underground.”

Gaster held the echo flower up to his face and studied each gentle tilt of its blue-hued, faintly glowing petals.
It whispered his words back to him, and his smile widened.

“You see, Sans, this flower has an energy that no other plant life in the Underground, or the Surface, possesses. It has the ability to hear and speak, which in botany has been completely unheard of!”

Sans still stood, his arms growing tired from the weight of the injection gun.

“Right…” Sans murmured, trying to follow along. He was quite used to the sciencey rants Gaster went on by now.

“I’ve come to understand that in order to keep up the energy required for such an ability, echo flowers must consume large amounts of energy from the environment around them. This is why echo flowers only grow in the nutrient-rich bogs of Waterfall.”
Gaster explained.

Sans nodded along. He had always wondered what the deal was with echo flowers.

“Keeping this echo flower alive has been very time-consuming for me, since I am no Royal Gardener.” Gaster gestured to the potted echo flower, which was much smaller than the normal flowers growing in Waterfall.
“The echo flower’s voracious ‘appetite’ is why nobody uses them as house plants.” Gaster chortled, “It took me various tries to get a plant to stay alive, although the size of the specimen isn’t exactly what I hoped for. However, it should do the trick for what I’m planning to do.”
Sans shifted his feet nervously.

“What exactly are you planning to do?” He pried, remembering the last time they had used determination in an experiment.
Gaster gave Sans an irritated glance, but continued despite his annoyance at being rushed.

“I am going to allow the flower to take root in my soul, so that when you inject me with determination, the echo flower will absorb some of the energy and act as a buffer, in theory.” The black-clad skeleton explained.

Sans took a step back.

“I’m not so sure we should do this, Dings.” Sans looked behind him, the darkness of the room seemingly beginning to close in on the pair.

“Sans, we have to do this. If I am able to regain a working physical form while possessing determination, I will be able to cross the barrier. Using this technology, monsters will be able to leave the Underground and go back to the Surface like before.”
A non-human determination shone in Gaster’s eyes as he spoke.

Sans tried to think of some argument against what he said, but his mouth went dry as he failed to come up with a counter to anything Gaster explained. He likely could find a good reason to not do this experiment if given a couple hours, but with the stress lurking in the back of his mind and down his spinal column, no quick ideas came to him.

“What if it doesn’t work? What if… what about last time?” Sans asked, genuinely afraid despite his attempts to push his feelings down.

Gaster scoffed loudly, the glowing blue flower beside him echoing his scorn.

“Last time we had no idea how a monster soul would react with determination. This time, I have a lot more evidence to work with, and I have a lot more insight at my disposal. I have a buffer, so my soul will not take the brunt of the energy.”

He seemed so sure, sitting there attached to various machines, fully ready to use his own body for science. Gaster, Royal Scientist, creator of the CORE.
Sans wished he could be half as brave, however trying to muster any courage just resulted in bile rising in his throat.

The smaller skeleton took a step forward again, half-hoping some of the confidence would rub off on him, although the effort needed for such a miniscule movement was much more than it would have normally been.
Gaster noticed Sans’ nervousness, and a sudden odd softness spread across his face. He allowed the ever-present mask of graveness to slip from his features, revealing a small side of himself that was usually buried deep beneath layers of stern and distant formality.

“Everything is going to be okay, son.” He promised, reaching out to squeeze the smaller skeleton’s forearm reassuringly.

In an instant, his demeanor returned to normal, coldness tracing the lines of his jaw and eye sockets, all traces of the faint warmth evaporating into the harsh lines of his skull that matched the lifeless surroundings.

Sans stood in shocked silence, looking at the Royal Scientist. Gaster almost never called him ‘son’. Typically their relationship was that of lab partners, or maybe even old friends. It was not typically familial like most other father-son relationships.

The cold blue glow from the echo flower mixed with the eerie white of the lab’s fluorescent lights and cast sharp shadows across Doctor Gaster’s face, and Sans caught himself longing for that warmth and pride back, even if just for one more moment.

The Royal Scientist turned and made himself busy adjusting the operating table until it had folded into a sort of make-shift chair, before sitting himself down on it, being careful not to disconnect any of the wires that were attached to him.

The times that Sans could remember seeing that previous softness were few and far between. Once when Sans had summoned a full gaster blaster all on his own Gaster had turned and smiled at him with the same loving warmth, and had picked him up in a hug and almost spun him around in pride, but instead quickly put him back down and returned to the same Gaster he had been before, giving a curt congratulations and telling Sans that they would have to continue practicing before heading off to write some notes on the experience, as he always did.
That fleeting love and warmth was a high Sans had been chasing his entire life, and a small child-like voice in the back of his head whispered that Gaster may show it again if this experiment worked.

“Okay, Dings.” Sans nodded, stepping forward again, the injection gun glowing a sinister purple between his bony fingers, which shakingly unhooked the safety and curled themselves around the cold trigger.

“Wonderful.” Gaster closed his eyes and brought a hand to his chest, concentrating on summoning his soul from between his ribs and giving it a corporeal form, an upside-down white heart now floating in front of his chest, casting the faintest of glows.

Sans took another step closer, his pink sneakers squeaking as he shuffled his feet against the floor.

Gaster sat down on the chair, his white soul still floating in front of him. He reached over and carefully removed the echo flower from its pot, shaking the excess dirt off before pressing the spindly, exposed roots against the glowing heart at his chest, gritting his teeth as the echo flower slowly wrapped itself in and around his soul.
The disgusting display made Sans sick to look at, and if he had eaten the spaghetti Papyrus had given him, it would have been all over the floor.

Gaster hissed in pain, reaching over with one hand to strap his other down with the metal restraints on the arms of the operating table.

“Get my other one, would you?” Gaster snapped, clearly uncomfortable at the foreign object now lodged in the culmination of his very being.

Sans quickly leaned forward to snap the other restraint into place around the Royal Scientist’s bony wrists. He wiggled both arms to make sure he was secure and unable to move, nodding in satisfaction, discomfort etched in the lines of his skull.

The release for the restraints were on the bottom of the operating table, behind him where he couldn't reach. Sans made sure to note that if anything went wrong, he would have to run around and release Gaster.

“I should have asked you to take notes as well.” Gaster winced, “I don’t suppose you brought anything to do that with.”

Sans shook his head, and the doctor sighed disappointedly.

“It’s… akin to…” Gaster seemed to be lost for words, “Maybe eating too much. Like a painful, sort of bloated feeling.” He closed his eye sockets, trying to relax.

Sans shifted his weight from foot to foot, his finger still poised on the trigger of the injection gun, the wickedly gleaming needle hiding just within the barrel of the device.

“Alright.” Gaster sighed, the machines next to him beeping slowly.

“Alright” The flower in his soul whispered softly, audible now that the room was quieter again.

“You remember last time, don’t you?” Gaster queried.
Of course Sans remembered last time, who would be able to forget?

“Exactly like that.” Gaster sighed again, his shoulder’s relaxing as he prepared for the injection. His breathing slowed, and his white soul's glow slowly pulsed against the blue light of the echo flower.
Sans raised the gun, pressing the muzzle against the Royal Scientist’s soul.

“Are you sure about this, Dings?” Sans asked, his voice coming out strange and fearful.

“Of course I’m sure. It’ll work this time.” When Gaster said it, it seemed like maybe it would work out.

Sans took a deep breath, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“Are you ready?” Sans’ voice was better this time, calming and more sure. Gaster was sure, so Sans would try his best to be as well.

“Yes.” The Royal Scientist nodded, remaining completely relaxed.

As Sans pulled the trigger, something in the back of his mind cried out in protest, and a horrible sinking feeling washed over him at the reminder of the last time he had used this gun.
Gaster cried out audibly, but quickly regained his composure and returned to his relaxed state, although Sans knew that the needle now inserted in his soul was causing him a great deal of pain even if he did not outwardly show it.
The echo flower repeated Gaster’s pained cry, and Sans fought back a wince.

As the determination drained out of the injection gun, Gaster’s soul took on a purple tint, and the black-clad skeleton’s face twitched as he fought to maintain his stillness.
The last of the determination dripped out of the needle and onto the floor as Sans pulled the device away from the Royal Scientist.
The echo flower pulsed brighter, and the previously white soul now glowed a vivid lavender.

Sweat dripped down Sans’ skull, and although he tried to muster the words to ask Gaster if he was okay, they died on his tongue. Attempting to swallow resulted in a mild stinging sensation at the sudden dryness that filled Sans’ mouth.
There was silence for a few seconds, and Sans relaxed, watching Gaster as his face contorted in pain, and then reverted back to his relaxed state before contorting again in a couple seconds.
So far, nothing bad was happening.
Maybe it had worked this time.
Gaster fully relaxed, sinking back in the chair with a strained sigh.

“It’s an odd feeling, for sure.” Gaster noted, and Sans cringed at his forgetting to bring a notepad.

“It’s a bit like… like I’m standing in the sun again…” The Royal Scientist sighed almost contentedly at the memory of the sun against his skull.

“A-are you-” Sans finally managed to find the words.

The smaller skeleton was cut off as Gaster suddenly screamed in pain.

A sickening cracking noise echoed through the room alongside the scream, and Sans watched in horror as two large dark lines had found themselves tracing along Gaster’s skull.
One crack had shattered up from his right eye and splintered into two as it wrapped around the back of his head, and the other crack etched itself down from his left eye to his jaw.

“It’s okay, Sans” Gaster hissed, “The flower should stabilize my soul, don’t worry.” For the first time, Gaster looked mildly unsure, a fact that was horrific just in itself.

Beads of sweat dripped down the Royal Scientist’s skull, and he shook slightly, his bony fingers wrapped tightly around the arms of the chair. The cold metal restraints around his wrists shone sinisterly, and Sans considered unlocking them.

“All according to plan…” Gaster clenched his teeth, the sweat pouring down his face now. “Asgore, those cracks hurt.” He exclaimed, bringing his hand up to gently rest it over his right eye.
“I’ll have to make a note not to inject determination that… fast…” Gaster trailed off, a realization dawning on his face, eye socket widening, as he slowly pulled his hand away from his dripping face, strings of white connecting his bony fingers to his skull.

Sans knew by the familiar sheen that covered Gaster that things had just gone horribly wrong.

“W…what’s happening to my hands??” Gaster cried out, looking down to note that his wrist had simply melted off, allowing him to bring his hand up to his face despite being meant to stay restrained.

“What’s happening to me??” Gaster watched in horror as his other wrist melted away, both of his hands now floating where they should have normally been, sustained by his magic. The machines he was attached to began to beep rapidly.

“Oh, Asgore…” Gaster choked out, in a sound akin to a sob, “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

Sans just stared at the Royal Scientist as his skull dripped down his face, his right eye socket drooping down at the weight of his own liquifying body.
The ‘sweat’ that had been dripping down Gaster oozed from his face, his formerly rigid jaw structure sagging and melting as Sans stood in shock, his feet glued to the floor and his entire body rigid and immovable.

“I- I had everything figured out!” Gaster wheezed, slowly beginning to get up out of the chair, “My… my soul should have been… should have been strong enough…” His breathing was laboured and came out in odd gasps next to his strained voice.

“Why… why do all my experiments keep failing?” Gaster stood up from the chair, his own body dripping down onto the cold floor, his coat melting into his body as his fragile frame sprouted small echo flowers out of his back.

Sans was barely aware of the fact that he had dropped the injection gun, the only sign being the large clattering of the device as it hit the floor.
Run. Sans’ mind cried out. RUN.
Despite his brain’s signals, his body remained fixed in place, watching an oh-so-familiar scene as the Royal Scientist’s body came apart in front of him.

“It hurts, Sans” Gaster hissed, a pained smile appearing on his melting face, “It hurts so much…”
Gaster stood for just a second, finally up from the chair.
A scream rang out again as Gaster’s legs became unable to support him, pitching him forward to fall to his knees.
The scream was echoed by the many flowers now sprouting out of Gaster’s body, ringing in Sans’ skull.

“I can feel their roots burrowing into my bones… into my soul…” Gaster rasped, a demented smile stretched across his distorted face.

“You… you can’t imagine the agony I feel…” Gaster looked up at Sans, his purple pinprick eyelights meeting Sans’ white pinpricks.

“...like I’m being torn into a million pieces.” Gaster slumped over, the flowers now growing out of the concrete floors, bursting up through the grey like an explosion of blue lava.
“I know the echo flowers will keep me alive…”
Gaster’s body was now a melted unidentifiable mass, with unsure lines between where his limbs met his body, or where one stopped and another began, all meshed together in a conglomerate mess.
“I guess death was too good for me…” Gaster’s smile grew larger, his mouth now just a melted black chasm across his misshapen skull.

Sans still stood, echo flower tendrils poking at his pink sneakers as the plants grew up around everything around them, wrapping around the table and chair, growing up like vines across the walls, and sprouting straight out of the Royal Scientist, bursting out of his decrepit form like mushrooms on a human corpse.

“Please make it stop, Sans. Make it stop.” Gaster begged, and his voice was echoed a hundred times by the rapidly growing blue flowers, the pleading whispered around the room like a choir of hellish voices.

Sans stood, staring at Gaster as he attempted to crawl forward, reaching out a dripping hand towards the smaller skeleton.

“HELP ME.” Gaster shrieked, the flowers screaming along with him.

Sans just stared, and although his brain switched between telling him to run and telling him to try and help his father, his body still would not listen to anything he tried to tell it.
A loud crash accompanied by the shattering of glass rang out, echoed to a mind-splitting decibel as the flowers grew far enough to knock over the case of condensed determination.
The vials lay shattered across the floor, the bright liquids splattered on the concrete like a colourful crime scene.

The sound of the cabinet being knocked over was just enough to kick Sans’ body into action, and the smaller skeleton immediately turned tail and attempted to run, forgetting that echo flower vines had been slowly wrapping around his foot.
As quickly as he had turned around, Sans felt himself slamming face-first into the floor, his glasses shattering on impact, the sharp fragments of the lenses digging into his face.
Sans groaned and tried to pick himself up, his hands wet as he was oriented with the fact that he had fallen face-first into the puddle of determination.
Yellow and blue determination dripped off his face and seeped into the glass cuts, burning in an indescribable pleasure.
Sans looked behind him in fear, frantically kicking his leg to dislodge the echo vines.
The flowers grew in towards him, snaking across the ground like hungry blue vipers, and as soon as his leg was free, Sans jumped to his feet and rushed towards the door, his soul pounding in his chest as sweat and determination dripped down his face.

“You… you… you can’t… you can’t leave me here.” A voice filled with venom hissed from behind the fleeing skeleton.

Sans stopped for just a second, his hand pressed against the door, preparing to swing it open.
He turned and looked back at the Royal Scientist, his father, melting and covered in flowers and vines. The whole room had been overgrown, the vines curling themselves in the puddles of determination, soaking up its potent power.

“Sans…” Gaster hissed, pain and anger gleaming in his glowing purple eyes.

“I’ll come back, Dings, I promise.” Sans felt the words leave his mouth before he had time to think, pushing the door open.

“I’m sorry.”

And with a pop and the smell of static electricity, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Mount Ebott was a hungry mountain.
Disguised as a quaint grassy hill, Mount Ebott boasted a simple forty-five minute hike to the top, where you would be treated to a breathtaking view of expansive deciduous forests that glowed golden in the light of the rising sun, a sight that was as legendary as it was beautiful.
Knolls of long grasses would wave in the breeze, tall wildflowers sprouting up from the rocky soil and dotting the pastures in splashes of colour. Butterflies and bees would flutter from flower to flower, and when the sun went down flickering fireflies would give their nightly performances, dancing and flashing in the darkness.

Once at the top however, life seemed to go still.
Crickets no longer would chirp, and birds previously giving serenades would go silent. No flowers grew on the sandy stone peak, and only small tufts of grass clung to the soil with their dry exposed roots.
You would think that such a beautiful mountain would surely have some semblance of human expansion at least bordering its majesty, but Mount Ebott had been left untouched by humanity.

For good reason.

Whispers of disappearances were carried on the winds that swept through its valleys, but it had been hundreds of years since anyone could remember why exactly Mount Ebott was a forbidden place.
Some of the older folks knew something closer to the truth, and would scoff at the young ones who would tell grandiose tales of demons or spirits haunting its peak.
Hidden away in scrolls and tapestries that were covered in dust and slowly falling to pieces was the truth.
Mount Ebott did not contain demons or ghosts, or some large-footed creature.

It contained monsters.

Many people laughed at the old writings and believed they were made up by a couple of kooks that were long since dead. The existence of monsters was a debate that was silenced for many years.
Any evidence of monsters living on the surface had been wiped from history books, a deliberate course of action that was a common practice amongst those that commit genocide.
Only a rare handful believed that monsters were real, and still alive deep within the hungry jaws of Mount Ebott.
The curious few would take a day trip to go find the mysterious prison of said fabled creatures, but none would return to tell their tale.

Frisk knew about the legends and mysteries surrounding Mount Ebott, but they were never one to believe in scary stories.
That was, until they were staring directly into the mouth of the mountain.

In the center of the peak spanned a large gaping crevasse. It was filled with sharp stalactite teeth stretching far down into the mountain, its hungry darkness reaching towards the surface.
Every instinct was telling Frisk to turn around and run back as fast as they could, but some strange pull was prompting them step by step towards the mountain’s jaws. Twisting vines wrapped themselves around the lips of the pit, hanging down past the sharp stalactites into the reaching darkness below.

Maybe it was curiosity getting the better of them, or maybe it was a sudden call to adventure. Perhaps it was even fate that was drawing them closer still.

It was the pastime of many a bored child to want to explore, and Frisk was no different. After slipping past the Caregiver’s negligent but piercing gaze, Frisk had snuck out into the forest to go find the fabled ‘resting place of monsters’.
They knew that once they got back and told everyone of their adventure, the other kids would think they were brave, determined, cool, and would finally want to play with them.

However, Frisk hadn’t actually expected the legends to be true.

Picking up a small stone, the young child heaved the pebble into the great maw of the mountain, straining their ears for far too many steamboats before hearing the tiniest echo of the rock bouncing off the cavern floor.

That is certainly a long fall.
Frisk leaned a little farther over the chasm, peering curiously down into the abyss. Squinting as hard as they could, they could not see the bottom, nor any monsters.
Carefully, they took a couple steps back, avoiding tripping on the vines.

It would be cooler if I had any actual proof of monsters, but I guess this’ll do.
Frisk pulled out a polaroid camera from the front pocket of their overalls, holding it up carefully to get a good picture of the hole.
A quick flash and whirr, and Frisk pulled the fresh polaroid out of the slot, shaking it quickly to help it dry.
Before the picture had even finished developing, a sudden gust of wind snatched the small square from Frisk’s tiny hands, sending it swirling towards the other side of the chasm.
Frisk reached out to grab it in a panic, momentarily forgetting exactly where they were. A sudden new wave of panic washed over them as their foot caught on a vine, pitching them forward.

With a frightened yelp, Frisk was plunged down into the darkness of Mount Ebott.

The silence of the mountain continued as it always had, now with the addition of a small polaroid photo fluttering gently from where it had landed in the waving grass, displaying a picture of the abyss that had just swallowed Frisk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk slowly blinked their eyes open, vision blurry and dark.
With a groan, they rubbed their eyes gently, a sullen throbbing in their temples.
Light from the evening sun filtered down in slashes of orange, and tiny particles floated through the sickly sweet air.
Frisk lay on something soft and gently glowing, but they remained motionless for a few minutes, assessing how hurt they were while their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Their thoughts moved sluggishly as they went over all their injuries.
Chest hurt really bad, it was a little harder to breathe. Arms and legs scraped up, head pounding. Hurt to think. Hair felt wet.

How did I not die?
Frisk closed their eyes again, trying to help the terrible headache they were experiencing. Whatever they were laying on was soft and pillowy, and probably the reason they didn’t die on impact.
The air smelled musty and damp, but was very floral and somewhat marshy.
A soft rusting was heard, and the light from above was obscured by something glowing a faint blue.
Frisk opened their eyes and came face to face with a… flower?

It was bright blue, with two eyes and a mouth in the center of it. The ‘face’ was surrounded by five glowing petals, and the thing tilted its ‘head’ at Frisk, who just stared at it, too injured to react.
The two stared at each other for a few more seconds.

“Hello…?” Frisk finally croaked, their voice hoarse and dusty.

“Hello?” The flower replied.

“Hello? Hello? Hello?” A strange third group of voices whispered.

Frisk struggled to sit up, and realized that the soft thing they had landed on was a massive patch of similar bright blue flowers, but without faces.

Maybe I’m seeing things. There’s no way a flower just spoke to me.
Frisk winced as pain shot through their body from the strain of sitting up. When they turned around, the same smiling flower was still… standing… in front of them.

“What happened?” Frisk asked the flower after a minute of silence.

“What happened?” The flower smiled widely, tilting its head again.

“What happened? What happened?” Frisk realized it wasn’t an echo off the cave walls they were hearing, but eerie whispering voices from the flowers they had landed on.

What is going on?
“Are you a monster?” Frisk breathed, squinting at the talking flower. The floating particles around them swirled as Frisk breathed out.

“Are you a monster?” The flower tilted its head the other way.
The flowers around Frisk echoed the words quietly.

“No, I’m a human!” Frisk shook their head.

“No… I’m a human!” The flower stuck its tongue out, smiling widely.
Frisk’s eyebrows furrowed. The flower creature clearly wasn’t a human.

“No you’re not.” Frisk scoffed, breaking into a coughing fit as they breathed in the strange particles.

“No you’re not.” The flower smiled.
The blue flowers around them whispered Frisk’s words back at them.

Is it copying me to be mean or is this the only way it can talk?

Frisk stayed quiet this time, narrowing their eyes at the thing.
The flower broke out giggling, which was echoed by all the smaller flowers around, as if Frisk was surrounded by laughing flowers.

“I’m just playing with you!” The flower finally spoke its own words, while the smaller flowers around it echoed what it said.

“Howdy! I’m Flowey! Flowey the Echo Flower.” The flower smiled warmly.

Frisk tilted their head, confused, as the other ‘echo flowers’ around them whispered Flowey’s introduction.

“Echo flowers!” Flowey smiled widely, winking at the human. “They grow all over down here! Aren’t they pretty?” He looked around for emphasis.

Tiny glowing particles floated through the air as Frisk studied their surroundings.
Flowey wasn’t lying, the strange blue flowers were scattered all around the room, blue vines coiling around stalagmites and sprouting faintly glowing blooms.
Frisk coughed as they breathed in a few too many of the glowing particles.

Frisk coughed again, covering their mouth with the sleeve of their sweater. It seemed that it was likely pollen from all the echo flowers.

“Oh don’t worry! The pois- pollen is harmless! It’s a special type called… Friendliness Pollen!” Flowey giggled.

Frisk’s head spun and their vision tilted.
“It’s making me dizzy…” Frisk mumbled, wetness dripping down their face.

“Haha! You’re so silly… I think the dizziness is from blood loss! You did get that nasty bump on your head from when you fell!” Flowey giggled, the other echo flowers quietly giggling with him.

Blood loss?
Frisk reached up a hand to touch the wet stuff on their face, and bit back nausea as they pulled their hand away to reveal tiny fingers covered in a scarlet smear.
Their vision shifted even more, going in and out of focus.

Frisk felt something wrap around their foot and turned their blurry gaze to see one of the blue echo flower vines slowly moving to wrap around Frisk’s boot.

Frisk cried out, unable to stop the panic that slipped into their voice, which was growing more present as the plant continued to wrap around them. They clumsily crawled away from the plant, kicking at it.

Flowey giggled, “Hey, hey! Calm down! They’re just giving you a little hug is all!”

Frisk coughed again, eyelids drooping. It was odd they were getting tired at such a time, since it was still an estimated couple of hours until their normal bedtime.

“You okay, new friend?” Flowey asked, “You’re looking a little sleepy there, buddy.” The talking flower leaned closer to Frisk, who was suspiciously eyeing the ‘hugging’ vines. Flowey gave a little shake, releasing more pollen into the air.

“Don’t worry! Your best pal Flowey will take care of you! You can go ahead and take a little nap right here! Echo flowers are very soft, and they’d love to strangle you-... I mean cuddle you!”

Frisk was too tired to really think about Flowey’s little trip up, focused on the vines that were now entirely wrapped around Frisk’s legs. The small child’s head bobbed as they briefly started to fall asleep, woken up as the vines increased their grip. A strange heat pulsed in their chest.

Frisk whimpered in pain, kicking at the plants again, but the vines continued to constrict. The pain was enough to keep them awake, although exhaustion hung heavy in their limbs and eyelids.

“You don’t like tight hugs?” Flowey tilted his head, looking confused.

Frisk shook their head, tears pricking the edges of their eyes. They didn’t want to be here, they wanted to go back to the orphanage even if it meant the other kids would make fun of them. Frisk had decided getting picked on was better than whatever this situation was.

“It’s okay, buddy! They’re just a little excited about getting a new vessel! I mean… new friend!” Flowey’s voice sounded weird, less friendly and more impatient. Frisk felt dizzy again, swaying back and forth, trying to keep their eyes open.

“Down here, echo flowers are everyone’s best friend!” Flowey smiled, “And you don’t want to be rude to your new friends… do you?” The flower’s face became shadowed, his eyes glowing threateningly, voice dropping to a sinister octave.

“Do you? Do you? Do you?” whispered the flowers.

Frisk struggled against the vines, body feeling even weaker now, head pounding.

“Hey what are you doing? You don’t want a hug?” Flowey frowned.

Frisk continued to struggle, the vines almost completely restraining them.

“Hey, buddy… You’re not making it very easy for them to infect-... hug you.” Flowey’s brow twitched and he gave a strained smile, clearly starting to get annoyed.

Frisk thrashed in vain against the foliage holding them down.

“Stop that.” Flowey commanded. Frisk did not stop.

“I said stop that!” Flowey’s voice grew louder and angrier.

Frisk weakly struggled, consciousness fading.

“Just give up and let me kill you!!” Flowey yelled, opening his mouth to reveal sharp teeth. Frisk’s heart pounded in their chest, growing hot.

I survived such a long fall just to die to a flower? Maybe they were right about me, maybe I am pathetic.
Frisk’s vision was encircled by a growing black fog, Flowey’s glowing blue form in the center of it.

“You idiot.” Flowey laughed as he watched Frisk fade. “Down here, we’ve got a little rule.” He chuckled.

Vines wrapped themselves further around Frisk, pinning them to the ground. The blue serpent-like foliage was criss-crossing the little human’s vision as they began to nod off. Their chest pulsed.

“Down here, it’s kill or be killed.” Flowey hissed triumphantly as Frisk stopped struggling, the echo flower’s eyes had gone dark, his pupils constricting into two sinister white slits, like a cats. He grinned, showing off his grotesque flower teeth.

I guess this is it… I’m going to die here. To a flower. Pathetic.

As Frisk was losing consciousness, they watched as a blurry Flowey turned to the side with a confused look, before a faint orange light illuminated his suddenly panicked face. He cried out as Frisk’s eyes closed and they slipped away into the darkness, at the mercy of the strange flower or any other monster that was lurking in the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk opened their eyes and screamed, body feeling well enough to react to danger again.
The creature above them this time was a white goat-like humanoid with gold-rimmed glasses. Blue echo flowers were weaved into the creature's long hair, and it looked shocked at Frisk’s scream, jumping back in surprise.

“Do not worry, my child!” The creature's voice was one of honey and warm milk, but Frisk was still feeling very on edge after almost being killed by a talking flower.

“I will not hurt you, human.” The goat creature smiled warmly, but Frisk eyed them warily.

“What a horrible creature, picking on a defenseless child.” A fire burned in the goat’s glare, and Frisk realized she was talking about Flowey. “Do not worry, you are safe now.” Her eyes returned to being friendly and welcoming, and she offered a furry hand out to Frisk.

Frisk hesitantly took her warm hand, and she helped the small human stand up. Oddly enough, all of the injuries Frisk had previously were mostly healed. No more pounding headache or aching ribs, and when the little human touched a hand to their face, it came away clean.

“My name is Toriel.” The goat creature smiled, “I live here in the Ruins, waiting for humans like you to fall down from above. I am sorry I was not here earlier, I’m sure that flower gave you quite the scare. He wasn’t acting very… humane!” Toriel giggled, covering her mouth.

Frisk stared at Toriel, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Toriel smiled sympathetically, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“I am sorry, human. I’m sure you are very scared and confused as to what is going on. I will explain. This is the Underground.” She gestured up towards where the small child had fallen from, “After the war, monsters like me were sealed down here, unable to return to the Surface.”

War? Monsters? Surface? What is she talking about? What is going on?

Questions floated through Frisk’s mind, and Toriel smiled knowingly.

“You’ve been through a lot today, why don’t you come with me to my home and I can explain everything there.” The goat monster looked around warily, “I think it’ll be safer for you.”

The Caregiver always said not to go with any weird adults. She never said anything about going with weird goat creatures, though.

Frisk glanced nervously back at the flower patch they had fallen onto, but Flowey wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Taking one last look up at where they had come from, the ‘Surface’ as Toriel had called it, Frisk turned and followed the large goat monster as she headed through an arched doorway in the stone wall.
Frisk blinked, taking in the strange and breathtaking room they had stepped into.

Cracked stone in a brillant purple covered the walls, and the dirt was a much darker violet. Glowing blue vines slithered their way across the walls, lavender-tinted flowers blooming across the bricks. The echo flowers here were very slightly purple compared to the ones Frisk remembered from the other room, which were a brilliant blue.
Engraved stone pillars reached their way up to the stone ceiling, also wound with echo flower vines. However, not only echo flowers were growing in the dark purple dirt.
Strange glowing ferns were sprouting curled tendrils up from the ground, along with small bioluminescent mushrooms.
Most of the ground was covered with dark blue petals that had fallen from the echo flowers, their glow faded. Although the air was still stale and dusty, there were less particles floating around, despite the larger amount of foliage covering the room.

“Come, child.” Toriel called to Frisk, “The plants here are much less aggressive than the ones previously, but we should still keep moving. They will begin to get agitated if they sense us here for too long. They are not very… friend-leaf!” The goat giggled.

Frisk cast a nervous glance at all of the glowing plant life, and jogged to catch up with Toriel. The small human still wasn’t sure how much they should trust her, especially since she was covered in the dangerous flowers herself.
Frisk studied her closer as they walked, careful not to tread on any stray vines that crept out onto the dirt path.

Toriel was much taller than Frisk, at least twice their height, if not taller. The goat monster was bigger than any human Frisk had ever seen either.
She was wearing a dark blue dress that had long flowing white sleeves. She also wore a long apron that was embroidered with echo flowers along the bottom edge. Two horns sprouted from Toriel’s head, and she had long hair that flowed in wavy tresses down to her back, woven with echo flowers.
Her eyes were soft and rimmed with gold glasses, but gleamed a bright ruby, which was a little eerie for the small human. The front of the apron had a curious symbol in gold across the chest, but Frisk didn’t recognize it.

“Do you need something, my child?” Toriel tilted her head, her long fluffy ears swaying.
Frisk blinked in surprise; Toriel must have noticed her staring. The small human shook their head sheepishly. The goat monster smiled knowingly.

“You do not have to be frightened of me. I know I am much different from anything you’ve ever seen before,” Toriel chuckled, “But most monsters are not as evil as you’ve been made to believe.” She sighed, her smile sad.
“Here in the Ruins, you will be safe. I will take care of you.” Toriel promised.

Frisk continued to follow Toriel through the Ruins, the glowing ferns around them whispering gently among the other strange foliage.
A rustling was heard, and Frisk jumped in fright as a strange creature shambled out across the path, whispering like the ferns.
It was a little frog creature, covered in echo flowers, which were growing out of its skin; bursting through open wounds. Frisk quickly hid behind Toriel, a sickly sweet smell masking something more sinister wafted into their nose.

“Oh…” Toriel wrapped a protective arm around Frisk, “Um… I am sorry, my child. As of late, strange monsters like this one have been appearing. This is a Froggit, but… overgrown. They are a little more hostile than normal ones, but you do not need to be afraid, the monsters like this in the Ruins are much more passive.”

Frisk wondered what Toriel meant by that statement.

“It is alright, we will simply move past it.” Toriel held tight to Frisk as they made their way briskly past the frog creature. As they walked nearer, Frisk heard a strange static echo in its whispering.

“Meow. Meow. Meow.” It whispered, and Frisk shuddered.

It turned to look at the goat monster and human as they passed it, one eye completely overgrown with flowers. Frisk bit back a gag, looking in horror at the strange zombie-like frog monster. It hissed and shambled towards Toriel, who glared at it.
The overgrown Froggit warbled something between a ribbit and a growl, backing off at Toriel’s warning glance.

“Ribbit. Ribbit.” It echoed.

“Although many monsters down here will try to attack you, you do not need to attack in return.” Toriel whispered to Frisk as they reached the next room, “Especially the infected monsters, like the one we just saw. They… are not entirely themselves…”

Frisk looked up at Toriel.

“Infected?”

“Yes. You see, my child, echo flowers never used to grow in the Ruins.” Toriel explained, gesturing to all the blue glowing plants around them.
“They could only grow in Waterfall, everywhere else was inhospitable to them. However… a while ago, they suddenly started popping up everywhere in the Ruins. And… they also started behaving strangely…” Toriel’s eyes were glazed over, and she kept her focus on the path ahead of them, leading Frisk through the winding tunnels and puzzles of the Ruins.
“I… I’ll explain everything once we get home. I am happy to give you a full… tu-Toriel!” Toriel chuckled gently, continuing on.

Frisk stayed quiet again, allowing Toriel to lead them through the Ruins. Although they tried to commit the path to memory, it was very difficult for the small child to remember, and they soon gave up. They could see how it would be very easy to get lost down here, and they were glad to have Toriel to guide them.

A massive tree came into Frisk’s vision as they entered through another curved archway. Echo flower vines had curled themselves up around the trunk and out across the branches, hanging down like sinister blue snakes. Flowers bloomed across the entire tree, but it was clear to see the actual branches of the tree were completely bare, or any visible foliage on it was covered up by the massive bloom of echo flowers.

Toriel noticed Frisk’s awe-struck gaze, and smiled wistfully.
“This tree used to be covered in beautiful red blooms, but… eventually every time it grew anything, it would fall right off. Then, of course, the echo flowers started growing on it, but I think that they’re… bud-dies!” Toriel giggled again.

Behind the tree was a quaint looking house, and Frisk gave a small smile as they followed a giggling Toriel inside. Even the outside felt home-y to the child.

“Welcome to my home, my child.” Toriel welcomed Frisk inside, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

Inside, the house was warm and light, a nice pale cream yellow covering all the walls, as if the entire house was bathed in a sepia filter. Frisk wandered around, looking at everything. It all felt cosy, from the numerous rugs covering the ground to the bookshelves filled with books on snails. The small child couldn’t help but take a quick peek into Toriel’s room, which was painted a gentle blue, and had three picture frames hanging up on the wall; one of a human child with dark hair, and one of a young goat monster. There must have been a third picture hanging up, but it had been removed, leaving only an empty frame.
Frisk wondered who they were.

When peeking into the second room, Frisk saw that it was a child’s room, complete with a toy box and desk with rainbow crayons and paper. The books on the shelf were all children’s books, and the neatly made bed was nowhere big enough to be for Toriel. Maybe Frisk wasn’t the only kid here.

Another kid? Frisk hoped, Maybe they’ll want to play with me.

“My child?” Toriel poked her head into the room and Frisk jumped.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you! I was just wondering if you preferred cinnamon or butterscotch.”
Frisk stared at Toriel, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted in confusion.

“Oh, is that a weird question? Or… you do not know? That… that is okay… I… I’ll leave you to it!” Toriel quickly retreated from the room.

Weird. Frisk thought, returning to looking around.

This bed looks really comfortable. Frisk admired the child’s bed in front of them. It was very neatly made, with pretty red blankets that matched the red rug on the wooden floor.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt to… Frisk climbed up onto the bed, which was very soft.
Toriel did say to make myself comfortable. Frisk lay down, sighing. They blinked sleepily. Everything going on was so confusing. Maybe they were still in bed back at the orphanage, dreaming. Frisk’s eyelids grew heavy, and they slowly drifted off to sleep to the thoughts of goat monsters and strange blue flowers.

Chapter Text

I just deleted my whole fucking chapter by accident I actually am going to cry <3

thought I copied it but nope :D

I was actually working on it and it was so good and then I hit post by mistake and panicked and then hit the wrong button to copy it and then went "oh no worries I can just delete the chapter since I copied it" and then did that and went to go paste it AND THERE WAS NOTHING so yeah-

:[

I spent like a couple hours on it too... and I finally had enough energy to work on it...... but no.... the universe didn't want me to do that.
so anyway see you guys in a couple months!!!!!! yayyyy