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i. frisk
frisk wakes up with their hand clamped over their mouth to keep a scream from escaping, sweat dripping down their skin, their blankets wound in and out of their limbs. they fall back, hand still over their mouth as they try to calm down (their vision is still flashing blue, they can feel their bones crack as they slam into the hard marble floor) and they slam their face into their pillow, letting out breath after long, panting breath, trying to squeeze any noise back inside their body.
frisk? chara says after a moment, their voice echoing and shivery inside frisk's mind. are you okay? frisk doesn't respond, instead clenching their hands into fists so hard that their nails bite into their skin and threaten to spill the blood filling up their body, straining against their paper-thin flesh.
frisk, please, talk to me, chara pleads, their voice desperate. frisk bites the inside of their cheek, hard enough to draw blood, and they focus on that-metallic liquid, sharp pain, ragged edges of their skin-and slowly their fear fades.
frisk, chara says, and their voice cracks. frisk tries to focus on them, but they're slipping away, their voice fading as frisk tries to find them. frisk's hands claw at the blankets, and chara's going black, everything is going black-
"hey, frisk, buddy, you okay?" sans is there, suddenly, and frisk doesn't know how he knew, but they press themselves into his welcoming arms and sob, the sounds absorbing themselves into his thick jacket, catching there with countless other sobs (human tears, skeleton tears, it's all the same to an object.) it smells like glass and sharp, acidic chemicals and blood and bones splintering marble, skin, organs, and frisk pulls back with a movement sharp as a knife. they whip their head side to side, searching frantically for a weapon-anything, anything to defend themself, anything to stop him from killing them again.
sans swears and says, his voice as calm as he can make it, "frisk. i'm not going to hurt you." chara carefully draws on some of frisk's strength and projects themself into the air. they stand in front of frisk, feet drifting a few inches off the floor. "frisk, listen, you're okay. you're okay," they murmur. frisk pauses, their body going suddenly slack at the familiar voice, and chara steps forward, reaching a hand out. frisk takes it after a moment, their wild eyes clinging to chara's form, and then chara murmurs, "it's not your fault. you haven't killed anyone in this timeline, and you never will again." it's part of their script, the one they're supposed to recite any time frisk has a nightmare, and frisk nods numbly, their panic fading.
"chara?" sans asks quietly, and frisk nods as their attention returns to him. sans swallows, pain twisting in his chest as he takes in the kid before him, their body wracked with shivers, their eyes huge and afraid. his voice trembling slightly, because oh, how well he knows that look, how often has he himself worn that look, sans begins his part of the script.
"i don't hate you," he begins, and frisk's head snaps up, focusing on his words. "you haven't ever hurt anyone. the other timelines weren't the you that you are now, and they weren't the me that i am now, and i'm never going to hurt you." the words calm frisk, their oft-repeated familiarity settling in them like a warm blanket, and they hug sans again, still shivering but calmer now.
thank you, they sign when they pull back, and sans nods, relief weighing down his bones as frisk sits down gingerly on the edge of their bed. sans sits next to them, taking one of their hands in his and tapping out a comforting rhythm on their skin. frisk swallows heavily and takes a deep breath, pulling their attention to the tapping until their shivers fade and their breath returns to normal.
"better?" sans asks, his voice still quiet because he knows how sensitive frisk gets to noise when they have nightmares, and frisk nods, clenching their fists in their blankets. sans goes to stand up, his hands jammed in his pockets, but frisk grabs his sleeve, and he stops, turning to face them. stay, they sign, their exhausted, tear-streaked face a mask of hope. sans nods because he knows exactly how this feels, back when it was just him and papyrus in their tiny little house in snowdin, and he's had his fair share of waking up biting back screams, wishing someone would come, hating himself for wanting his brother to see him like that. he sits back down and frisk wraps their tiny arms around him, leaning their full weight into him (which is admittedly not much,) and they fall alseep almost immediately.
sans sighs, leans his skull against their head, and drifts off to sleep next to them. chara perches in the corner of frisk's mind and watches their sleeping thoughts for any sign of panic or fear, ready to soothe them at a moment's notice, a ghostly guard.
when toriel comes in in the morning to wake frisk and finds her child curled up next to sans, she sighs and gently strokes frisk's hair. she knows what it means when she finds frisk and sans together (frisk had a nightmare again, that's what it means, and though her child will never tell her what they're about, just sans, toriel knows they're bad.) toriel sighs and backtracks, letting the two sleep a while longer.
she decides that she'll have butterscotch-cinnamon pie waiting for them when they wake.
ii. chara
frisk is taking a walk through the woods outside their house when they punch the tree.
it's not a conscious decision on their part, they just stop, their legs freezing in the middle of a step, and when they come back to themselves, their knuckles are split and bleeding and they can feel the sharp pain that means that their fingers are broken.
frisk, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, i didn't mean-i'm sorry- chara's voice in their mind is high and panicked and frisk's breath automatically speeds as chara subconsciously takes control of the body, and when frisk manage to wrest control back, they're on their knees hyperventilating.
frisk tries to calm chara down, but their voice seizes in their throat, and instead they retreat inwards, approaching chara's form (curled up in the fetal position, hands pressed to their own throat, strangled, high laughter emitting from their mouth) in headspace. chara, frisk says. it's okay. i know you didn't mean to, i'm not angry-chara, please, look at me, they plead helplessly, and slowly chara turns to face frisk.
their face is pale and the deep shadows around their red eyes are darker than usual. frisk notices a few buttercups littering their body, and pales. that's not good. chara, frisk says, and kneels next to them. it's not your fault. chara laughs, their head thrown back like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard, but their eyes are dead.
of course it's my fault, they bite out from between giggles. you know me, frisk, you know i'm not a good person-you don't deserve to have to live with me, all i do is hurt this body anyway, frisk, why do you even let me live? they choke on their own words. you could destroy me, you know, they say, still laughing, buttercup petals spilling out of their mouth as they rip their fragment of a SOUL out of their translucent chest and present it to frisk. break it, they snarl, their eyes going black. please, frisk, i'm a demon, i don't need to live-
frisk gently reaches out and cups chara's SOUL in their hands. chara closes their eyes, missing the sight of frisk pushing their SOUL back into their chest. they feel it, though, and their eyes fly open. frisk, they say pleadingly, their hands shaking as they clutch at frisk's forearms.
chara, frisk replies, taking chara's hands. you're not a demon, they begin, you're not bad. i know you didn't mean to hurt the body, it's not your fault-please, chara, you didn't do anything wrong.
chara looks up at them and snickers. i punched a tree, frisk, they snap, and frisk sighs and pulls them into a hug. chara's form is stiff and rigid, but slowly they relax into frisk's hug, and frisk is about to continue their calming routine when something outside the body jolts them back into consciousness.
"jesus christ, kid, what did you do?" sans says, staring at their hand, panic glimmering in his eyesockets, and frisk flinches.
sans immediately regrets what he said. "sorry," he says hastily. "you're not in trouble, i just-how did you get hurt?" he already knows, of course-that sort of injury only comes from punching something, but he wants to know why frisk did it.
chara got scared and punched something, frisk signs, wincing as they try to bend their broken fingers to the shape, but i think they're okay now. sans nods, running his hand over his skull. "okay, okay, um-oh, god, tori's going to kill me," he says. "uh, come on, we have to get you healed." frisk frowns. it's not your fault, they sign. the words sting, because, oh god, this kid just punched a tree and their hand is twisted at all the wrong angles and they're trying to make him feel better. he stares at them for a moment before carefully scooping them into his arms. "you up for a shortcut?" he asks, and they nod, so he steps forward and lets space twist around him until he's standing in tori's kitchen.
"they, uh-something happened," sans says to toriel, and she barely even looks at him, just takes frisk and heals them with a single-minded intensity while sans hovers worriedly next to her.
"what happened, my child?" tori asks after frisk has flexed their hand enough to tell that it's fixed.
i'm fine, they sign immediately, chara just got scared. they're okay now, i helped them calm down. tori lets out a sigh of relief and nods. "my child-" she breaks off, and wraps frisk in a hug. after a moment's hesitation, sans hops up next to frisk on the counter and takes their hand, and frisk lets out a contented hum, still gripping chara's hand in their head.
are you okay? they ask chara, and chara nods gratefully. thanks, they reply, and frisk nods. you're not a demon, chara, they say one last time, and chara glances over at them.
i know.