Work Text:
The evening sun was filtered through Kris’s window, scattering a yellow glow throughout their room. The beams of light seemed to attack each reflective surface; it bounced off of bronze drawer handles, computer monitors, trophies against the wall, refracting and finally landing right in between Susie and Kris. It was a perfect split between the two of them, in the middle, parting them as they lay facing each other. Kris was lightly curled into themselves and Susie was stretching out her legs as much as possible on the smaller human's bed. Their arms were both draped over themselves, stopping a few mere centimeters before really touching each other's hands. The light laid in between.
Kris had this gentle look in their eyes, one Susie knew, deep down in the pit of her stomach, that was full of love. Just pure love. The light illuminated what little of their eyes were shown, hair slightly obscuring their face. Susie caught glints of red, then orange hues when their eyes were stained by the glow of the sun as they would slightly shift on their bed. Despite the mystery of their eyes, she could tell that their gaze softened whenever it landed on her– it always did.
She figured most people would find their current predicament awkward, and if it was anyone else, she would agree. Even now, if she told the Susie from seven months ago how they’d both become entangled with each other, downright almost obsessed, she would be embarrassed. She would currently feel embarrassed, if only she wasn’t doing the same thing.
She traced every part of Kris with her eyes, taking the time to really absorb their physical beauty and surroundings. Their sharp eyes, obscured by soft but raggedy dark chestnut-brown hair, and the way the tips of their bangs were wispy as it tickled their button nose. She flushed as she realized Kris was probably doing the same to her; it was unspoken admiration for each other, an intimate bonding moment despite neither of them even having skin-to-skin contact. It was just them, their thing. Kris’s breath’s presence was known only by astute observation as their sides and chest gently moved with every inhale and exhale, barely audible. Kris was always kind of quiet. Sometimes, Susie is afraid that if she closes her eyes, Kris would disappear. And so she’s always hesitant to look away; today she’s given the sanctity of being able to gaze at them for however long she wants.
Their legs were lazily draped over the bed, Azzy’s hand-me-down, red oversized tennis shoes still on, brown pants still dirty (and even browner) from today’s excursion. Their sweater remained miraculously untainted save for the frayed edges of the hem. Her observing eye focused back on them, who was still holding eye-contact with her. Kris wasn’t necessarily smiling, there was more of a soft, content press of the lips decorating their face instead. That’s how they always were around Susie– it wasn’t just giddy happiness that they rarely experienced since they were a child, but this comfort, familiarity, this knowing that they would always have each other, that this was every day, not something they’d desperately cling to in fear of it disappearing, not something rare, and that was a good thing.
Susie thanks whatever higher being Hometown currently believes in that she somehow, in the span of the billions of years of the planet existing, in the entirety of the world and its locations, that she ended up here, with Kris, in this moment and time. Her eyes rest as they feel heavy and they naturally gravitate towards Kris’s bare arms, their sweater having been rolled up to their elbows. Though the summer was slowly fading into the fall season, it seemed that Hometown would forever hold a comforting warmth-- there was a certain heat that refused to subside until the little town was well into the winter months.
It never really upset Susie, the scars. She could see the small traces, it being the first thing that caught her eye whenever she first saw Kris's arms. That was months ago, when they went night swimming and Kris had changed into a t-shirt they no longer cared for, and she still cringes at the memory of her eyes going wide, still not knowing to this day if Kris saw her unfiltered reaction or not. Smoother skin was interrupted by smaller raised bumps, sprinkled across the tan skin that she'd come to know well. But it never really bothered her. She tried to not let it bother her, more like. Sure, she never had the best coping mechanisms either, much like other teenagers, so who was she to say anything about it? It would be rude to bring it up out of nowhere, or would just be awkward if Kris felt they were put on the spot.
‘Hey, I noticed your scars. What's up with that?’
That was the best she could come up with in her head when thinking about confronting them-- not a great start. Not worth making them uncomfortable in the case it was too much of an intrusive question. It didn't matter because they were all faded, anyways. As far as she knew (and she was damn sure she did), it was all in the past. Cut, past tense.
Cuts , past tense.
Her eyes then drift down to stare at Kris's hands, limp and resting against the duvet, but reaching out towards her. Something along their wrist catches her eye. That was definitely not past tense. That looked like…recent.
Susie always told herself it was fine and of no concern, as long as it wasn't a current thing going on. Well, these scars seemed somewhat fresh, or at least…redder…than the other ones. It took everything in her not to react at the sight of some of them, not wanting to offend Kris, whose eyes were trained on her and most likely knew where she was looking. She wanted to wince not only at her lack of discreteness, but the fact that anyone could hurt Kris, even if that person was themselves.
She slowly sat up on the bed and pushed herself to rest flush against the wall. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as Kris followed suit in sitting up, settling into a criss-cross facing her. She felt a pit in her stomach. She didn’t know how she would even begin, how she could comfort them, if she even could. Imagining Kris in any kind of pain made her feel sick. She can feel the blood slowly drain from her face as she starts to feel slightly squeamish, a mix from the guilt and anxiousness. Kris’s tranquil smile falters as they slightly frown at the sight of Susie clearly being bothered by something.
“Um…” Susie begins. Great start, idiot! You’re sure good at this comforting thing. Goin’ real smooth, you’re already making them feel awkwa-
“It’s okay.”
Kris sounds small and their hand is grabbing at Susie’s wrist. They attempt to smile. “We don’t have to talk about it. I know it’s hard to. Or…weird.”
She doesn’t know if Kris says this for their benefit or for hers, and she has a strong feeling that this is yet another one of their self-sacrificing moments; at this point in her friendship, she can recognize the signs within Kris to understand when she needs to push further, and when she needs to stop. Susie looks down and she feels pathetic that she can’t even comfort her best friend. She can put herself in front of them to take an attack, she can hold their hand confidently in public (sometimes), she can threaten and thrash anyone who stands in their way, but emotional vulnerability is seemingly what crosses the line for her. Not that she wanted to be that way, but it’s simply the way she was raised. Lack of attention and obliviousness towards a suffering child leads to one believing there’s no point in reaching out for help at all, much less having the ability to comfort those that do. She wonders if this is how Kris feels sometimes.
“...are you doin’ okay?” she mumbles, albeit genuinely, mentally kicking herself. It’s okay, she’ll find the words as she keeps going. This isn’t something that comes naturally, at least for her; when words start to come up front in your muddled brain, you have to seize the moment and just say them when necessary. It’s a start. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a brief moment, collecting herself.
Kris looks down at the question, avoiding eye contact, the way they felt was most important for communicating their feelings. There’s somewhat of a sad smile forming on their face as they intensely focus on the blue weavings of the comforter.
There’s a silence that hangs in the air for what seems like hours, Susie worriedly looking at Kris, who is just as concentrated, on anything else but her. Just as Susie is about to clear her throat in an attempt to change the topic, a small voice rings out, cutting the tension.
“Not all of them are mine,” they squeak out. There’s no emotion in their voice, and Susie can’t see their face well enough to determine how they feel, if this conversation is comfortable or not for them. Their head still hangs low.
“Some of them are from fighting, from… the dark world,” they explain, animatedly raising their hands to wave it around, as if painting a picture. “Not always a perfect victory, y’know?”
Susie nods and slightly chuckles. Of course she knows.
“Others are from knife tricks,” they explain, and they lift their head slightly, where Susie can now see a smile slowly starting to appear on their face. One of Kris’s favorite hobbies, an avid knife collector, and some unfortunate small accidents in the process of doing so. Still, they love it and it’s obvious to those around them that they have an affinity to collecting them. Their smile is gone fast though, and their head goes back down along with their hand. They’re balancing themselves with their free arm on the bed. In a barely audible whisper,
“...most of them are mine, though.”
Susie doesn’t want to say anything yet, in case they want to continue. She’ll give them a few moments, she thinks, as she also tries to figure out what to say next.
“I’m sorry I’m not like…flawless,” Kris continues, still quiet. “I know you don’t expect that from me,” they explain before Susie can say anything in protest.
“I know it’s weird. That
I’m
weird for doing this. I’m just a…a freak, I guess,” they mumble. Susie again begins to make a noise of protest before they interrupt. “I don’t know. It’s hard. And I’m constantly in pain. Physical pain, or mental, whatever. It’s nice to at least have control of
how
I feel it.” Kris clutches their chest for a second.
Susie’s face slightly contorts. She doesn’t know what Kris is talking about, or that they even felt that way. Sure, the presence of scars signified to her that there was something wrong, but they were older and faded, and she feels even more guilt for never speaking up about it, asking if they were okay, if they needed help, anything. She wonders if Toriel knew about the scars, how it would be nearly impossible if she didn’t, especially on her own child, who she sees every day, in various states of dress and ready.
“Is that scary?” Kris asks, whipping their head to meet Susie’s eyes. Their own eyes, though slightly covered, she can see are as big as saucers, and there’s an illegible emotion held there that she cannot decipher, further concealed by the lack of sunlight they both failed to notice. The room was darker now, a shade of navy blue blanketing everything the window gave it access to. There was a pale glow from the moonlight, somehow managing to reach out to illuminate the pair out of everything else in the room.
“That I’m like this?” Kris continues after a short silence. “Is it scary?”
It sounds like they’re almost pleading to Susie, desperation now in their eyes. Their hands are cupping each other, held close to their chest. Susie’s brows are furrowed, and there seems to be some sort of heaviness covering the room, a complete switch from the soothing atmosphere held just moments before. The room feels cold, and she can see Kris start to slowly shake. Just as she is about to answer, no, never, you could never be scary, I will be by your side no matter what, and you even having to ask that makes me want to start laughing and crying at the same time because God, how can you not see how perfect you are? –
“See how I…mess up…m-moments like this?” They’re having a hard time getting the words out now. There’s somewhat of a dry chuckle as they spit it out.
“Kris, you didn’t mess up anything,” Susie quietly begins, finally being able to get a word in. She can feel her demeanor and voice turn soft, her heart aching at the thought of however Kris talked down to themself.
“Listen…we have good moments, like all the time. Look at us, we’re…” she doesn’t know how to label themselves right now, and she doesn’t want to have a ‘ what are we’ moment either, so she settles on gesturing towards herself and Kris.
“We’re us. We’re inseparable.”
She sighs softly, and then looks back to meet Kris’s eyes.
“Listen, Kris…I…I don’t know about you but, uh…” she clears her throat and covers her mouth with her fist for a moment as she can feel blood rush to her face. “I’m…I’m in this for the long haul, ya’ know? Like, to me, this is some for-lifers shit.” That gets a small giggle out of Kris, who’s slowly turning red, and she smiles sheepishly before she continues.
“Anyways, my point is that yeah, we mostly have good moments. And that brings us together, right? Like, we’ll probably mostly have happy moments together n’ stuff, our little routine of adventuring or gaming or doing stupid school stuff, and that’s what makes us bond and feel closer to each other or whatever. But being that close also means that sometimes we need to talk about things that…aren’t so happy. I mean, like you said earlier, not everything’s a simple victory, yeah?” She puts her hand on Kris’s anxiously fumbling one, noticing how they’re thumbing over some scars, and she slowly pushes it down to rest on the bed.
“You can’t truly get to know or like… love someone if you don’t accept their flaws. And to do that, you need to make sure you’re, like, open enough for them to feel comfortable telling you that kind of stuff. O-only if they want to! Like, we don’t have to tell each other everything but… we at least need to tell each other when we feel bad. And to reach out for help, even just to talk or have a distraction. I know for a fact that you would do that for me. I have trouble reaching out too, y’know? I guess what I’m trying to say is that we need to have each other's backs. We need to look out for each other, Kris. I don’t want my best friend to feel bad and meanwhile I’m just too dense to not notice.” She hears small sniffles every few seconds.
“And for the record, I don’t think you’re a freak. And if you think you are, then you’re my freak.” Kris laughs quietly. Susie gets serious again before she continues her speech.
“I want to know if something is bothering you,
when
something is bothering you. Like I said before, you don’t have to tell me everything or even
anything
if you don’t want to, I just want you to feel like you have a place where you’ll be accepted no matter what.” She gulps in between her sentences. “A-and I want that place to be with me, you know?” She squeezes Kris’s hand softly.
“I know I’m like a ‘bad’ girl and tough and cool and awesome and all that, but I also have my…moments. I’m not all… rotten inside or whatever. I know how this kind of stuff feels. Obviously I don’t know what exactly you’re going through, but I know I’ve probably felt just as low in my life before. And when you’re scared to reach out, or embarrassed, or hesitant even a little bit, I’m sorry if my attitude ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me stuff, ‘cause that’s not at all how I want things to be between us.”
“You’re not rotten, Susie. You’re not rotten at all. Don’t say that.”
She smiles back at Kris, who is speaking with pure earnesty and even a little anger.
“I know, I know.” She lifts Kris’s hand and kisses it. She can almost see their brain short-circuiting as she does so. She slowly brings the base of their wrist up to herself and presses another soft peck to it. “Is this okay?”
Kris nods furiously, not being able to even choke out words at the moment. Susie laughs against their skin, tickling them slightly. She puts back down their hand, and softly pulls on their arm, signaling a familiar beginning to a routine of theirs: come on, ya dork, come here.
Kris slowly crawls over to sit in her lap, and they turn around to where their back is against her chest. Susie plays with the material of their sweater as they both sit in a comfortable silence.
“Thank you,” Kris softly speaks. Susie feels like their voice is as soft as butter, melting her heart.
“And I do want to talk about stuff. I just need more time than other people do, I think.” Susie rests on Kris’s head before they continue.
“I don’t know if the scars make you feel uncomfortable or anything like that but-”
“They don’t, Kris.”
“...but I promise to be more open,” they finish softly, finally resting their head back. Susie decides to resign her anxiously-charged soft confrontation despite certain things Kris said still tugging at her mind. She wants to ask what kind of pain they feel, that she didn’t even know they dealt with physical pain. Why they looked so anguished as they clutched their chest for a second. Was it a chronic illness? Does it take up so much of their energy that it eventually starts to creep into the way their brain functions? Or are they depressed because… a lot of reasons, she admits to herself.
The divorce, Asriel “Azzy” Dreemurr leaving, the lack of Dreemurrs together, this nagging feeling that maybe Kris and Toriel aren’t always on the same page, why Kris seems to sleep all day throughout class, how they often struggle to finish anything that’s not junk food, and then she has to shut herself down before she thinks further about all the things Kris hasn’t told her. She’s getting ahead of herself.
“Okay, ‘Suz?” Kris asks, looking up as best as they can. Susie pulls them in closer as she’s brought back to reality.
“Yeah, you?”
“...’m okay,” they respond softly. Susie can recognize that they’re on the brink of a slumber.
“...Susie?” they mumble softly. She’s surprised that they can even say words right now, given the emotional exhaustion and sleepiness they’re experiencing. She makes a surprised noise of confirmation. I’m listenin’, go ahead.
“...it’s stupid,” they resign. Susie squeezes them briefly as punishment and they slightly squeak at the pressure.
“Hey. What is it, seriously?”
Kris seems to take a small deep breath.
“I…I’m really trying,” they whisper. It breaks Susie’s heart, for a multitude of reasons: the way they say it, sounding like they could break down at any moment, the way they think that she thinks they aren’t trying, the way she starts to feel droplets on her hand that’s holding their waist.
“I know, Kris. I know you’re trying. And I’m, I’m proud of you. I’m really proud of you.”
Kris shakes their head.
“Just being with you makes it feel like everything is healed. Like everything is gonna be okay. And I don’t say that because I want to put pressure on you to be around.” They get quieter as the statement goes on and Susie has to really try to listen closely. “I mean, even when you’re not around, just even getting the opportunity to know you has inspired me in ways that you don’t even know. It jus’...it feels slightly better when you’re here with me.”
“H..huh?” Susie can feel her heart beating slightly faster as she stutters.
“I mean, you talking here with me, offering help, all of those things you said.” She can hear a smile in their voice, albeit quiet as hell. “Cuddling,” and Susie blushes.
“I mean…all of it’s a start,” Kris whispers. “I know I can heal from everything. How I feel. And one day we can talk about everything. Everything about what makes us sad and what cheers us up, about what makes us feel like home, different parts of our lives that we haven’t told each other yet.”
Susie can hear Kris smiling wider and she tightens the bear hug around them, unmeaningly tickling them and making them laugh until they’re out of breath.
“I’m already healing,” they sputter out in between giggles. "'Cause of you."
And that is enough, enough for Susie’s heart to swell up, for her to know that things will be okay, for her to realize that they will always be there for each other, for her to admit that she capital ‘L’ Loves Kris, and that together they will heal from whatever hell they’ve both been put through in their complex lives.
Though scars will develop over time through hardships, she knows they will always be able to heal.
That night they fall asleep in each other's arms, the luminescence of the moon’s phase shining down on them, their breaths bouncing off of one another’s skin, finally knowing true peace.